Page 22 of After the Rain

SIX

READING BETWEEN THE LINES

EZRA

Setting up my classroom Monday morning, I caught myself humming while arranging art supplies, my improved mood obvious even to me. The weekend had felt like a glimpse into a life I wanted but had been afraid to hope for—belonging somewhere, being part of a family unit, having someone appreciate both my professional skills and the person I was when I wasn't performing teacher mode.

Wade's kitchen. Cooper between us during story time. The easy way we'd moved around each other like we'd been doing it for years.

I was in deeper trouble than I'd ever let myself get into before.

"Okay, spill." Brook appeared in my doorway with two cups of coffee and a knowing look. "You've been floating on cloud nine since Friday afternoon, and now you're humming show tunes while organizing crayons. Either you won the lottery or a certain single father made quite an impression."

I tried to deflect, busying myself with lesson plans. "It was just educational support. Cooper needed help with his family tree."

Brook's raised eyebrow said she wasn't buying it. She settled into the student chair across from my desk, clearly preparing for interrogation.

"Uh-huh. And this educational support required you to spend the entire day at his house because...?"

"The project was complex."

"Ezra."

"Fine." I sank into my chair, abandoning pretense. "It wasn't just the family tree. Wade gave me a tour of his house, we cooked together, Cooper insisted I stay for dinner and bedtime stories. It felt..." I searched for words that wouldn't reveal how completely I'd fallen. "It felt really natural."

Brook's face lit up with excitement. "Oh my God. You had a domestic fantasy date with Wade Harrison."

"It wasn't a date. He was being polite."

"Honey, straight men don't invite single gay teachers over for all-day domestic bliss unless they're interested in more than their child’s education." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Tell me everything. And don't leave out how he looked in work clothes."

Despite my protests, I found myself describing the easy domesticity, Wade's impressive renovation skills, the way we'd worked together in the kitchen like we'd known each other for years. Brook listened with growing excitement, clearly seeing romantic potential I was still afraid to acknowledge.

"He doesn't even know I'm gay," I said, trying to inject reality into her enthusiasm.

"Are you sure about that?"

The question stopped me. Was I sure? Wade had seemed remarkably comfortable with Cooper's casual mention offamilies with two dads. He'd asked thoughtful questions about different family structures without any discomfort.

"Even if he did," I said, "that doesn't mean he's interested."

"Ezra. Sweet, oblivious Ezra." Brook leaned forward. "Did he seem nervous around you? Awkward? Like he was trying to figure something out?"

I thought about Wade's lingering touches, the way our eyes had held contact longer than necessary, his obvious reluctance to end our time together.

"Maybe a little."

"And when he called you last night? How did that go?"

"How did you—never mind. We talked for almost an hour. He invited me to see his Victorian house restoration project. And we're going to the library event together next weekend."

Brook's grin was triumphant. "See? He's courting you. In his confused, recently-divorced, probably-just-figuring-out-he-likes-men way."

Wade appearedin the drop-off area right on schedule, but there was something different about his demeanor. More confident, more purposeful, like he'd made some kind of decision over the weekend. When our eyes met across the parking lot, his smile seemed warmer, more personal.

My pulse quickened in response.

Cooper bounded toward me with extra enthusiasm. "We went to the park and met Jackson's two dads and they were super nice and Daddy said families can look different ways and then we went to the hardware store for treehouse supplies and then Daddy called you and talked for like a million hours!"

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