Page 44 of Ripped

“It’s not prying.” She shoots him a glare. “I’m just looking out for our son’s best interests.”

I freeze and my eyes snap to Phyllis, but she’s still glaring at Leonard. It probably just slipped out. Or she meant “son” in a figurative sense because I used to be her son-in-law. Yes, we considered ourselves family once, but that was before, and I barely ever see them these days. They couldn’t possibly…

Except Leonard’s studying me and I feel like I’ve been caught breaking curfew or something.

“Actually, this might be a good time to mention…” He glances at Phyllis with a questioning look.

“Oh, yes, that.”

That what?

Leonard stares me right in the eyes. “We’ve changed our will so that everything goes to you once we’re gone.”

I don’t understand right away. Why would they do that?

“It’s not going to be billions or anything,” Phyllis says, with an exaggerated hand wave. “But there will be a good chunk left. And the house, of course.”

“What?” My voice is small with my heart lodged right up there in my throat.

Phyllis and Leonard exchange a look, then she smiles at me with so much tender indulgence that I can’t breathe.

“Donnie, you’re our son. It makes sense for us to put you in our will.”

“But… but…” I don’t have the words to describe this mix of indebtedness and unworthiness and humility churning inside me. They don’t owe me anything. I haven’t done anything to deserve a gesture like that. I came here today debating whether I should tell them that I’m sleeping with someone who isn’t their son.

“My dear, you became our son the day you and Roger became partners. That hasn’t changed just because Roger isn’t with us anymore.”

“But…”

Phyllis tsks at me. “No buts, you hear me? We’re family.”

The tears slip past my lashes and I swipe at them, trying not to draw attention to myself. Hearing Phyllis call us family is like the prickling sensation when feeling returns to a limb that’s gone numb. It hurts like fucking hell, but it’s life coming back to a part of me that I’d forgotten was there.

I’ve been so lonely and I’d resigned myself to that solitary existence. Connor somehow wormed his way in and set up camp inside me. And now Phyllis and Leonard are reminding me of how much I’ve pushed away the people who love me most. Maybe it was what I needed at the time, to lick my wounds by myself. But I need life now. I need to live.

“You’ve been alone for too long,” Phyllis says, like she’s plucking my thoughts straight out of my brain. “You need to start seeing people.”

I nod. She’s right. “I have been seeing someone,” I manage to whisper.

Phyllis’s face lights up. “I knew it!” She looks so excited and eager that I have to laugh.

It’s a laugh that breaks through that dark, heavy place inside me. It shakes something loose, like a chunk of rock falling away from me. My body feels lighter. It’s easier to breathe. My heart rate settles closer to its resting pace.

“Tell me about him?” Phyllis asks, like we’re teenagers gossiping about boys.

I smile at the thought of him, the boy who is changing my life. “His name is Connor.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

DONNIE

After lunch, I follow Leonard and Phyllis to the cemetery in the car Roger and I shared. I don’t use it often. I don’t like driving very much and there really isn’t a need for it in the city. But during times like this, when I need to go to an out-of-the-way place, it’s nice to have.

The air is thick when I step out of the car. Gray clouds rolled in during the drive to the restaurant, hanging low and heavy in the sky. I feel like I’m walking through water. Every breath feels like I’m sucking in steam.

It’s always kind of a surreal experience when I visit the cemetery. I don’t fully feel like myself. Almost like I’m outside of my body, watching it weave through the headstones with a bouquet in its hand. My skin feels tingly and numb at the same time. My insides feel hollow.

It’s the same today—but worse. I told Phyllis and Leonard all about Connor over lunch. They asked dozens of questions. They want to meet him. I got that little tickle of nervousness at the prospect of introducing the boy I’m dating to my parents. I want them to like him. I want him to like them.

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