Chapter 26
Rowan
The loud creak of the front door echoes loudly in the hall. If anyone’s home, they’ll know I’m here in about a minute, but I’m not in the mood to face them.
I didn’t bother telling anyone where I went for a reason. I didn’t want the questioning, and I didn’t want them to try and guilt me out of going once they knew Circus was involved.
So I left them a note saying I’d be gone a couple of days and then texted Mom that it would be a couple of days more.
And damn were they good days.
I dump my bag on the bed, tempted to pull the Polaroids out, just to remind myself that day happened. In this house though, that’d be a recipe for disaster, so instead of listening to my instincts, I start looking for a good hiding place.
There’s a knock at my door, and I quickly shove my whole bag in the closet before the door starts to open.
Mom pokes her head inside.
“I thought that was you,” she says, walking closer to pull me into a hug. “How was your time away?”
“Yeah, good. Didn’t miss me too much at the diner?”
“I’ll always miss you, but the diner was fine.”
I smile, really hoping she means that.
“You picked a good night to get back. Piper’s coming over for dinner, so Gran cooked her cheesy chili bake and apple pie. And we all know how much you love her pie.”
“It’s like you knew I’d be here for it.”
She taps her temple. “A mother’s intuition. Now get changed, dinner’s nearly ready.”
Pity her mother’s intuition missed a pretty big thing about me. If she’d just known, it would have made a world of difference.
If I couldn’t hide the gay, I’d already be outed and therefore I’d already know the outcome.
It’s the not knowing that’s driving me crazy.
It’s the wanting to be with Circus, so much, that I’m actually for the first time in my entire life tossing up just how bad things could get—and whether it would be worth the trade-off.
Mom leaves me to unpack my shit, and I finally stash the photos away where I’m sure no one will accidentally find them. Now, if they were to purposely go looking for some big, gay contraband they’d probably sniff them out quickly, but while my family are a lot of things, they’re not snoops.
I’ve just put a load of washing on when I hear Piper arrive, but even still, I drag my feet.
When I imagine family, I picture warmth and love and acceptance, and I wish I could claim that was because my own family empowered me to think that way, but unfortunately, mass media consumption has more to do with that impression.
My family are warm in their own way. But when it comes to Grandpa and his opinions, it’s fall in line or leave.
It constantly makes me wonder whether Mom and Dad just do the church thing for him or if they actually believe it themselves.
Not that it matters.
After going to church for so long, it’s hard to get those teachings out of your head. And while I have to admit there is a lot of good in there, it also comes with a heavy undercurrent of obedience and compliance which I’m not so comfortable with.
Some days I wish there were an off switch for religion.
But without one, I just have to hope my parents’ love is stronger than the voices the church leaves in your head.
And I know firsthand how loud those voices are.
I sigh and run a hand through my dirty hair, figuring I should probably take an actual shower after a week of bathing in ponds or whatever off-road dingy motel we could find.
Then I guess I can’t put off facing them any longer.
I’m too jittery to enjoy my shower, so I scrub quickly and get out, dress, and decide I might as well get all the questioning over with.
I can never tell them the whole truth, but I’m not going to lie about who I was with.
So if they ask, it’s on them.
I’m surprised Mom didn’t give me the third degree the second I walked in the door.
“Ah, he is alive,” Grandpa says dryly, the moment I walk into the living area. “Here we were thinking you’d run away again.”
All I have to do is keep my cool. “I didn’t run away the first time, I went to college. Big difference.” I quickly turn my attention to my sister, swamping her in a hug. “Piper, blessing us with your company, huh?”
She snorts. “Hardly. It’s more like I wanted company.”
And like she’s said the magic words, the heat immediately passes from me to her. I’d feel bad, but … I don’t.
“You just need to find yourself a husband,” Gran says. “Once you have a man in your life, you won’t feel so lonely.”
I wonder if she’d give me the same advice.
“Yeah,” I agree, and Piper frowns at me. “Or a dog. A hamster. Maybe one of those descented skunks.”
Her frown deepens. “Or I could just visit my family and not transfer my emotions onto another being.”
Gran sniffs, and I know she’s immediately about to launch into her you’re getting older bit. “Don’t leave it too long, Piper. You’re a beautiful girl now, but in a few years …” Right on cue.
And instead of just taking it like she normally would, Piper bites back. “Well, you’ll excuse me if the guy I liked decided he’d rather go gay than date me. Sorry, Gran, that must be so disappointing for you.”
Yikes. There’s a definite tone there I’m not liking.
It has me torn between pointing out Tanner is bi and he and Royce were always going to happen, and keeping quiet.
Because if there’s one thing I’ve always relied on, it’s knowing my sisters will have my back.
But can I count on that when she’s holding on to this resentment?
Grandpa waves his hand. “I swear the gays are everywhere these days.”
“We pray for them, you know,” Gran says.
And that’s more than enough for me. I get up to go check if Mom needs any help in the kitchen, but she meets me in the doorway.
“Dinner’s served,” she calls, ushering me toward my seat. Which means no getting away from any of them.
It’s stifling. The tiny dining room, bumping elbows with Piper at the six-seater table. Sitting directly opposite Gran and right next to Grandpa.
And yet it’s like I’m worlds apart.
They’re all talking like there isn’t a gigantic wall between me and them, and they cover off every mundane topic from town gossip to how Harvey’s is going.
And I should care. I should enjoy this with them. But after spending so much time with Circus, and letting myself feel what I’ve been running from for years, I don’t want to keep it all in. I want to share that I’m happy and possibly in love.
It fucking sucks that I can’t.
Gran’s chili usually helps boost my spirits, but even it’s not enough to distract me.
I glance over at where Piper’s pushing her food around the plate, and I guess I’m not the only one going through emotional stuff.
Is she still upset over Tanner? And if she is, am I breaking some kind of sibling code by being friends with him?
I nudge Piper with my elbow and pitch my voice low. “I’ve been thinking about the diner and how you’ve been looking for new ideas. Ever thought of adding something vegetarian to the menu?”
A light smile crosses her lips, but before she can answer, Dad cuts her off. “Vegetarian options cost too much in overhead and wastage. There’s no market for it.”
Apparently I didn’t speak quietly enough. “We make everything to order anyway, why don’t we just let people choose what they want?”
“Then you create the habit of people changing everything just because they can. You’ll have custom orders coming out of your ears and be unable to keep up. The way we do it now is a process we’ve perfected over years, and it works.”
My jaw ticks as I clench my teeth.
There’s no point arguing. But apparently Piper thinks there is.
“Actually, it’ll make us more competitive.
We’re still pulling a steady profit with our regulars, but we rarely see new people through the doors.
I’m there every day, and I pay attention.
Changing some things up wouldn’t be a terrible idea.
I mean, look at Peg’s. That place is constantly full.
And if we sit around just relying on our current business, that business will eventually dry up. ”
Dad’s eyes flick toward Grandpa, and it’s so subtle I almost miss it. But as usual, he’s worried about saying the wrong thing.
I watch as Grandpa knocks his veiny knuckles against the table, then sighs.
“Well, just take a look at Tanner Everett. If he’s not a sign that times are changing, I don’t know what is.
That whole little …” He screws up his face.
“That group of them. And people your age, always looking to try and be different.”
“I like the idea,” Mom says suddenly. “If you two want to work on a business plan for how it could happen—”
I hurry to lift my hands. “Not me. Piper. Sorry, but I’m only at the diner for as long as I can, umm …
” My heart is pounding in my ears. This is the first part of the plan.
The thing that is going to get me that much closer to living the life I want to live.
“I’m opening a gym. Hopefully. I have some money saved up, and I’m going to start looking into it.
Piper will be the one who gets the diner, and I’m okay with that. ”
To say Piper looks shocked to hell is an understatement. We’ve always known the place would be split between the two of us, but she loves it there. She actually enjoys going to work.
“Sorry,” I say. “Probably should have talked to you first.”
“Sorry? That’s amazing. Are you serious?”
“Definitely. I want to use my degree. And Leon mentioned the town could use a gym, rather than people running over to Port Welling all the time. So I figured I might as well.”
There’s a beat of silence before Mom smiles. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”
“Just”—Dad runs a hand over his mouth—“seems an unstable sort of business. The diner’s solid, people need food. Who needs exercise?”
“Literally everyone.” I barely manage to hold my smile back.
“Interesting.” Grandpa turns to me, and the tone sets me on edge. “You’re opening a gym, because Leon told you to. You’re suggesting vegetarian foods for I’m assuming Kelly Atkins—and that pizza you and your gran made a while back was for him too, wasn’t it?”
He might be old, but there’s no denying he still has all his marbles. His tone is way too careful for me to relax. “It was.”
He huffs a short, humorless thing. “Seems like you’ve been hanging out with these gay boys a bit too much, Rowan. Eric Fletcher mentioned he sees you at the bar with that group sometimes.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask, forcing my tone to stay light, even though by this point I want to growl. I clench my hands under the table to stop anyone from seeing that they’re shaking.
“You need to be careful. Be friends all you want, but those kids are sinners, and the last thing you want is to get messed up in that nonsense.”
Nonsense? I lean forward and meet his stare. “You might need to spell that out for me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Oh, do I?”
“They’ve lost their way, Rowan. Turned their backs on God and the church, and now they’re doing devil knows what with their lives.”
“You mean becoming a firefighter? Or running successful businesses?” My voice is growing loud. “Or finding loving relationships, or helping people out with whatever they need in town, or being kind and friendly and—”
His hand thumps down on the table. “This is what I mean. Walking out on church, the back talk and disrespect—”
“It’s not disrespectful to point out when you’re talking shit.”
He splutters. “The cursing! What is going on with you lately? You had your poor mother worried to death when you picked up and left and didn’t bother to tell anyone.” His eyes narrow. “Where have you been?”
“In LA.”
His mouth gapes open for a second. “With?”
I could lie. It’s not like they’d ever be able to verify the story, but the blood pumping thick in my ears is making it hard to think. It’s urging me to be reckless. “With Circus.”
“I knew it.” He pushes his plate away. “I’m warning you, Rowan. That boy is trying to turn you into a fucking queer!”
My mouth drops as I stare at him. Then at Grandma, who’s watching her plate, trying to block us out. Dad’s looking at me in shock, and Mom’s biting her lip.
Piper reaches for me, and when I meet her watery eyes, I know she knows. “Oh, Rowan …”
And … wait. It’s not her eyes that are watery. It’s her whole form.
I swallow thickly.
Then stand. “It’d be a bit hard for him to turn me when I’ve been a fucking queer all my life.”
I toss my fork at my plate, and it rings out so loudly I almost miss the gasp. Someone sobs. But I can’t tell who because I’m already tearing blindly from the room in a mad race to get to my room before anyone follows me.
I blink and blink again, trying to clear my vision as I grab my wallet and keys and those Polaroids and shove whatever else I need into my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder and racing for the door.
Piper beats me to it. Her eyes are big, cheeks streaked with tears. She steps forward without a word and gives me a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, just as Grandpa shouts, followed by the sounds of breaking china.
Piper darts away, and I leave.
Under no illusions about ever coming back.