Our Secret Summer

Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

Dylan stared blankly at Raffo’s message, at a loss for an appropriate response. She typed and deleted, typed and deleted, until she drove herself crazy, and put her phone away.

She couldn’t look at that painting of herself any longer, either. It was much more explicit and much more recognizably her than the one Raffo had made in Big Bear. She could only hope Connor hadn’t seen it. He and Murray were finally coming to dinner, so she would soon find out.

When they arrived, Murray’s hug was noticeably warmer than Connor’s. Dylan could immediately tell Connor was in a mood. She felt sorry for him, because she was probably responsible for it.

“He and Raffo had a fight,” Murray said, not wasting any time. Maybe because he had a plane to catch later tonight and he didn’t want to leave Connor in this state.

“For the millionth time, it was not a fight,” Connor said.

“I’m sorry, darling.” Dylan couldn’t help herself. She put an arm around her son.

“In case you’re wondering, it was about you,” Connor said, contradicting himself.

Dylan didn’t know how many more times she could apologize. She had just about run out of I’m-sorries when it came to this—also because it was very difficult to actually regret her time with Raffo. If only she regretted it more, that would make everything so much easier.

“She painted you and…” Connor didn’t sound very angry, more despondent and a little sad. “Ugh, the work was so good. So exceptional. So Raffo on absolute steroids but it was you, Mom.” He scoffed. “All of you. Naked.”

“It’s art,” Murray said. “I went to see Raffo earlier to say goodbye and she showed me. It’s beautiful, Dylan. You need to see it.” Murray sounded so casual about all this.

“I have seen it. Raffo texted me a picture.”

Connor’s eyes went wide. “You’ve seen it?”

Dylan nodded.

Connor bit his lip, as though trying to stop himself from saying something vile.

“My flight’s in three hours and I would like to say something before my taxi gets here.” Murray had that air about him that made you want to listen when he spoke—or maybe Dylan was just really curious about what he wanted to share. “Con, babe, I love you and I understand why you feel the way you feel about this.”

“But?” Connor’s voice couldn’t sound more sarcastic.

Murray pinned his gaze on Dylan. “You don’t give up on something potentially great just because it’s difficult,” he said.

Both Connor and Dylan protested at the same time.

“Stop.” Murray held up his hands. “Please, let me finish.” He looked at them as though he was the principal who’d called two wayward teens into his office for one last chance before expulsion. “You can’t see any of this clearly because you’re in it. You’re too involved. Dylan, you’re smitten with Raffo and that, too, I totally get. And Con, Dylan’s your mom so of course you’re freaking out about it. It’s normal. But?—”

Connor started to say something, and Dylan was infinitely impressed with Murray’s power to stop her son from talking simply by holding up a finger.

“The fact that I don’t live here gives me more of a bird’s eye view on all this than either of you. From this vantage point I’m telling you that love, just as life, is precious. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Someone you love can die. I don’t mean to be grim, but it’s true.” He paused. “Ask Raffo.”

“That’s a little unfair,” Connor said. “And quite emotionally manipulative.”

“It’s not,” Murray said. “If only you could see that.”

Dylan stood there, witnessing this bizarrely intense conversation between her son and his boyfriend, of which she was the subject. She and Raffo. Raffo would be mortified by all of this—or would she? The truth was that Dylan didn’t know. She hadn’t even replied to her text. She hadn’t even complimented her on that magnificent painting she’d made. This work of art that conveyed, without words, exactly how Raffo felt about Dylan. And wasn’t that what art was for? To say the things that couldn’t be put into words?

“Mom gets why I can’t accept her having an affair with my best friend,” Connor said. “Don’t you, Mom?”

“I do,” Dylan confirmed. It was hardly a matter of not getting it.

“That’s not the point.” Murray put his hand over Connor’s. “You know that rainbow heart that Raffo’s being paid a massive amount of money for,” he said. “I think you have forgotten what that stands for, babe.”

“No, I haven’t. It’s not because they’re two women?—”

Murray cut Connor off. “It stands for all the love, Con. That includes the love between your mom and Raffo.”

“ Love? They slept together a couple of times in Big Bear.” Connor spat out the words. He pointed a finger at Dylan. “Where you weren’t even supposed to be, by the way. In case we all forgot that my dear mother, aside from sleeping with my best friend, also lied to me about a bad investment and where she was spending her summer. And what? Now it’s all on me? Now I’m the one standing in the way of their ‘love’?” He curled his fingers into air quotes. “Give me a fucking break.”

“Okay,” Dylan said. “That’s enough.” She started to walk out of the kitchen, but turned around. “You two, make nice before Murray leaves. Make sure there are no hard feelings before saying goodbye. I’m done with this conversation.” Contrary to what she’d just said, Dylan walked back into the kitchen and planted a quick kiss on the side of Murray’s head. “Thank you for what you said. I really appreciate it. Have a good trip back to New York.” She headed over to her son and mussed his hair about, knowing full well how much he hated that. Still, Dylan couldn’t help herself—it was the story of her life lately. “I love you, Con,” she said, before going up to her bedroom, where she stopped in front of Raffo’s first painting of her.

You don’t give up on something potentially great just because it’s difficult.

Murray’s words swirled in her head. There might be some truth to what he said, but Dylan not giving up on Raffo could equal losing her son, so that battle was already over before it had even begun. There were some risks Dylan would never take.

Still, Dylan fished her phone out of her pocket and—finally—texted Raffo back.

It’s insanely beautiful, and I’m not just saying that because it’s a picture of me.