Page 14 of Various Intentions
“Then why haven’t you called?”
Oh, fuck. “I don’t— I guess I assumed you were busy with Charles and making art—and hobnobbing with the elite.”
Juno’s mouth twisted. “The elite. Those nasty fucks.”
I moved over and sat down beside them, leaning against the door and staring at their bedroom. The furniture was elegant and feminine, with throw pillows in jeweled tones on every plush surface. “Juno, I’m very sorry I haven’t reached out.”
“It’s all right, Nic. I know I’m stupid and dramatic and entirely fucking useless to anyone. Charles should collect his things and run far, far away from me.”
I glared at them, frustrated and angry now. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t…care.” But their breath hitched, and they had to force the words out. “He’s better off without me. I thought I could support him, so he left his job as an interpreter. And now we’re fucked.”
Oh, good Lord. Juno’s life was a mess. But that was no reason to give up and throw away everything they’d worked for.
“I’m sure Charles can get another job,” I said.
Juno’s expression became hopeless. “Then I’ve truly failed, haven’t I? Can’t even be a proper Sugar Daddy.”
I couldn’t help it, but those words and Juno’s vivid reality combined to cause me to snort a laugh.
“Um, Sugar Person,” I corrected.
Juno regarded me with disbelief for a long moment. Then the corner of their mouth twitched.
“Honey Mummy?” I suggested.
The lip twitch turned into a grin.
“Candy Aunty?” they offered.
“Oh, that’s a good one.”
For the first time, Juno seemed like they might not be devising ways to hurt themself or someone else.
“I know things look bleak right now, but, Juno”—I took their hand, threaded their dainty fingers with mine and thumbed at the door behind us—“that despondent boy out there? I’m pretty sure he loves you. And whatever you think of yourself or your talent at the moment, you need to give him the respect of taking him at his word. Helovesyou, and he doesn’t want to leave you. And he is stressed as hell right now thinking that you don’t love him, thinking that you don’t care if he stays or goes. Or that you actuallywanthim to go.”
“I don’t,” Juno whispered.
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere.” I squeezed their hand. “Then stop telling him to leave.”
Juno was quiet for a long time. “I don’t know how to live up to his expectations of me.”
“What do you think his expectations are?”
“That I…take care of him and give him everything he wants, like a proper Sugar Da— I mean, Candy Aunty.”
“You think if he finds out you don’t have the money to keep him as your pet, he’s going to hate you and leave you, so you might as well chase him off?”
Juno mumbled something.
“Pardon?”
“It sounds stupid when you say it.”
“Itisstupid. Why don’t you ask Charles what he wants?”
Their head swung around, and they gaped at me. “What? But, how can I do that? What if what he says he wants is…impossible?”
