Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
Kiera
Kiera sat at the kitchen table, filling out the spreadsheet that Danica had forced her to create to keep track of every job application she’d put out. As she filled in the mundane details, all she could think about was Izzy and their phone call the night before — the way their voices were low like they were keeping a secret. Her body still hummed with distraction and unmet need.
Across the kitchen, her parents moved around each other in their usual chaotic dance of domesticity. Her dad was chopping an excessive amount of ginger, while her mom poured hot water over loose-leaf tea.
“You’ve been at that for two hours,” her mom observed, setting the kettle down. “Honey, I’m sure color-coding the spreadsheet isn’t that big of a deal.”
Kiera sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. “You’re probably right, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something at least.” She paused, exhaling hard as she rubbed her temples. “I feel like I’m floundering.”
Her dad, still focused on butchering a hunk of ginger, let out a hum. “Floundering is just another word for figuring it out.”
Kiera shot him a flat look. “That’s not even remotely true.”
Her mom slid a cup of tea in front of her. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. The right teaching job will come once this part is behind you.”
Kiera couldn’t help but groan. “Trust the process, right? Well, in case you have your rose-colored parent glasses still on, I am extremely bad at that. I’m divorced, I live with my parents, and I need help raising my daughters.”
Her parents exchanged a glance, the kind of silent parental communication that usually meant they were about to approach a subject carefully .
Her dad cleared his throat. “You’re worried about the girls.”
Kiera pressed her fingers into her temples. “Of course I’m worried about the girls. I’m worried I won’t get a job in the fall, and that I moved them here without any kind of plan beyond ‘start over and hope for the best’.”
Her mom frowned. “You’ve always landed on your feet. This won’t be any different.”
“That’s the thing,” Kiera said, voice tight. “I don’t feel like I’m landing anywhere. I feel like I’m just free-falling, hoping the application is going to magically fix everything.”
Her dad finally abandoned the ginger and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Or maybe you’re just adjusting. Starting over is hard — doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.”
Kiera scoffed, shaking her head. “You don’t get it. I used to know who I was. I was good at my job. I thought I was a good wife. A good mom. I had a system. Now I’m pretending I’m not terrified that I’ve made a huge mistake.”
Now that the words were out there, they felt disingenuous. She knew she’d done the right thing by leaving, by bringing the girls to Denver, by ensuring that they’d see their mom being strong and standing up for herself.
A silence settled over the kitchen, warm but weighty. Kiera stared into her tea, her pulse a little too quick, her nerves too raw.
Her mom was the first to speak again, voice softer. “Sweetheart… is this really about applications or a spreadsheet?”
Kiera swallowed. “What?”
Her dad gave her a knowing look. “You’ve been organizing that same column for damn near an hour. So… what else is going on?”
Kiera opened her mouth, then closed it. The words were there, but they caught in her throat. The intensity of the last few days — Izzy’s kiss, the way it felt like something inside her had been knocked loose — sat like a stone in her chest.
She took a breath. “I kissed a woman.” She pointedly did not add that they’d had epically good phone sex the night before.
There was a beat of silence before her mom let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “ Finally. ”
Her dad, however, simply broke into a slow, satisfied grin. He turned to her mom with an outstretched hand, palm open. “Pay up,” he said with a grin like he’d just won the lottery.
Kiera blinked. “Wait. You bet on me kissing a woman? On… coming out, I suppose?”
“Not if you’d come out — when, ” her dad corrected with a grin. “Your mom said last year. I said you’d figure it out before forty. Clearly, I had faith.”
Kiera let out a strangled noise, somewhere between disbelief and sheer mortification. “Are you serious? You knew… what?”
Her dad shrugged, unbothered. “Kid, we knew you were queer long before you did.”
Kiera stared at them, her heart still racing. “Okay, so you’re both shockingly calm about this. But I’m still kind of…” She waved a hand, struggling for the right words. “Processing.”
She hadn’t expected it to feel like this — like her ribs had loosened a notch, like she could finally exhale after holding her breath for years without realizing it. And still, part of her couldn’t help scanning their faces for any flicker of hesitation, any shift in tone that might mean she’d read it wrong. But there was nothing. Just quiet warmth and the easy rhythm of her parents acting like they were talking about the weather.
It should’ve felt anticlimactic. Instead, it felt huge. Not loud or dramatic — just quietly, terrifyingly real.
She hadn’t even said the words out loud until recently. And now, here she was, standing in her childhood kitchen, saying them without apology and being met with love.
Her throat tightened. Processing didn’t even begin to cover it.
Her mom reached over and squeezed her hand. “And that’s okay, sweetheart. But just so you know — you don’t have to have it all figured out right this second. And you don’t have to be scared to tell us things like this.”
Kiera exhaled, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Okay.”
Her dad gave her a grin. “So… was it a good kiss?”
Kiera groaned and dropped her head onto the table. “Oh my god.”
Her dad leaned forward, his smile widening. “I mean, we need details. Was it a movie-worthy kiss? A ‘slow-motion, dramatic music swelling in the background’ kind of thing?”
Her mom chimed in, eyes twinkling. “Or was it more of a ‘whoops, didn’t see that coming’ situation?”
Kiera groaned again, covering her face with her hands. “Why did I tell you this?”
“Because we’re your loving and supportive parents,” her mom said sweetly, taking another sip of tea.
“And because you knew deep down that we’d eventually drag it out of you anyway,” her dad added, stretching his arms behind his head like he had all the time in the world. “So, was this just a casual kiss? Or are we talking Big Feelings?”
Kiera peeked at them between her fingers, equal parts mortified and exasperated. “Please stop.”
Her mom gasped dramatically. “Big feelings, then. Got it.”
Her dad pointed at her, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t deny it.”
Kiera groaned, slumping forward onto the table. “I take it back. You two are not supportive. You’re busybodies.”
Her mom patted her back soothingly. “Sweetheart, we’re just happy for you. And also, frankly, relieved. I knew you’d come to your senses.”
“Come to my senses?” Kiera lifted her head just enough to glare at them.
Her dad nodded sagely. “Well, yeah. The way you used to talk about your totally platonic girl crushes growing up? It was painfully obvious. And in college, there was that girl you never stopped talking about. I’m just shocked it took this long.”
Kiera threw up her hands. “I hate this. I hate this entire conversation.”
Her mom just laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, honey. You don’t hate it. You’re just flustered.”
“I am not flustered.”
Her dad raised an eyebrow. “Then why is your face turning the exact color of a tomato?”
“Wait, what girl did I talk about in college all the time? Danica?”
Her mom rolled her eyes. “Yes, but not like that. I believe it was Missy, if I remember correctly.”
“Missy?” Kiera repeated.
“Pixie?” Her dad added rather unhelpfully.
“Izzy?” Kiera clarified.
Her mom’s eyes widened. “Yep, that was it. Izzy.”
Kiera groaned again and pushed back from the table. “I’m leaving.”
Her mom clutched her arm. “But sweetheart, where will you go? We know where you live.”
She could see the laughter bubbling up inside her dad.
Kiera crossed her arms, grumbling, “I was trying to make a spreadsheet before you both turned this into a full-fledged intervention. Now I’m going to go to Pilates and forget this conversation ever happened.”
Her mom leaned in conspiratorially. “Kiera, darling. What we really mean to say is that we hoped you would come out, but we did begrudgingly accept you as our straight daughter, as well.”
Kiera turned to leave, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”
Her dad called after her, his voice still teasing, “We’re just saying, if you need advice on handling complicated romantic feelings, you should just ask us. Between your mother and me, we’ve got so many complicated romantic feelings about each other, it isn’t even funny!”
Kiera stopped in the doorway, turning back just enough to give them a dry look. “I'm not sure that a straight couple that has been married for decades can help me in this new queer adventure.”
Her mom winked. “At least you admit it’s an adventure.”
Shaking her head, Kiera disappeared down the hall, still feeling the heat in her cheeks. But as much as she wanted to be embarrassed by the conversation, she couldn’t ignore the slight weight that had lifted from her chest.
An hour later, Kiera found herself standing outside Luna Pole how she had let herself be bold for once, and brave ; how her parents had been so unbothered when she’d told them. The relief of it. The realization that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t always have to be the careful, predictable version of herself.
Maybe she could just try .
She squared her shoulders. “You know what? Yeah. Why not.”
The woman grinned. “Love that energy. Let’s get you signed in.”
Ten minutes later, Kiera stood in a bright, mirrored room, barefoot, surrounded by sleek metal poles spaced evenly throughout the studio. A handful of other beginners — some looking just as nervous as she felt — stood or stretched nearby.
The instructor, a bubbly redhead named Sam, clapped their hands together. “Alright, welcome to beginner pole! Who here is brand new?”
Kiera raised her hand, nerves spiking the moment she did. She glanced around and saw she wasn’t the only one, but that didn’t make her feel any less exposed.
Sam beamed. “Awesome. First thing you need to know is that pole is for everyone . No matter your strength level, no matter your background, this is a safe space to learn, have fun, and maybe discover you’re stronger than you thought.”
That was… oddly reassuring.
They started with basic warm-ups — shoulder rolls, hip circles, core activation exercises — and then moved into simple grips. Kiera had assumed it would be all spins and climbing, but the first ten minutes were just learning how to hold the pole properly.
When they finally moved on to a beginner spin, the fireman spin, Kiera was sure she was doing it wrong. She watched Sam demonstrate, the move looking effortless, before she tentatively copied the motion. She stepped, hooked her leg, and… immediately clunked against the pole, sliding down in the least graceful way possible.
“Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath, laughing as she caught herself.
Sam chuckled. “That was a perfect attempt . Try again but trust your momentum more.”
Kiera tried again. And again. And by the fourth or fifth time, she managed a wobbly, slightly stilted spin.
Her arms ached. Her legs were already burning. She was terrible at this.
But she was having fun .
For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t worrying about what came next. She wasn’t thinking about Alex or the divorce or teaching or what the hell she was doing with her life or even Izzy. She was just here , in her body, trying something new.
And damn, it felt good.
After picking the girls up from school, Kiera went through the well-worn motions of their afternoon routine. Shoes scattered in the entryway, backpacks unzipped and emptied onto the kitchen table, snack requests flying at her from both sides. Eliza, ever the chatterbox, launched into a story about how she and her best friend had started a “detective agency” at recess, while Quinn sat on the counter, munching on an apple, solemnly nodding along.
“Mommy, can we have a tea party after dinner?” Eliza asked, swinging her legs under her chair.
Kiera pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Of course. You want the real tea set or the plastic one?”
“The real one,” Eliza said, grinning. “But not the Sleepytime tea. That one is yucky.”
Kiera laughed. “Noted.”
Eliza paused swinging her legs and looked up at her with wide eyes. “Mama, are we gonna live with Grandma and Grandpa forever?”
Kiera’s heart clenched. She glanced at Quinn, who was also watching her with interest, then back to Eliza. “No, baby. Just for a little while. We’ll have our own place again soon. I promise.”
Eliza asked softly, “Why don’t we see Daddy anymore?”
Kiera swallowed hard. “Daddy works a lot, so you get to live with Mama and visit Daddy. Like a vacation. Isn’t that fun?”
Eliza seemed to think about that response, nodding after a beat. “Okay. As long as Daddy still loves me too.”
“He does,” Kiera assured her. “So, so much.”
Quinn, still silently eating her apple, reached over and grabbed Kiera’s hand with her tiny fingers. Kiera squeezed back, trying to anchor herself in that simple, pure connection. “I don’t mind living with Grandma and Grandpa and the chickens and you, Mama.”
“Me too, Mama. But you first, then the chickens,” Eliza said.
Kiera smiled, her heart still tight in her chest. The fear of the unknown was still there — pressing in from all sides — but for now, she had her daughters. And perhaps she was finally piecing herself back together.