Chapter 38
Venus
The Queens and Dreams Diner shines from a block away, its pink and yellow neon signs glowing across the darkened street like spilled tie-dye, so I’m surprised to find a CLOSED sign in the window as we approach.
“It’s closed,” I say, tugging on Henry’s arm to stop him from opening the door.
“It’s closed for us,” he says, his lopsided grin urging me inside.
My confusion compounds as I step into the quiet restaurant.
A silver disco ball spins overhead, reflecting the glow from the neon lights and candles on the long counter.
Balloon structures occupy corners, and streamers, foil fringe, and paper lanterns hang from the ceiling, creating a pastel cloud overhead.
Tables have been moved from the center of the dining room, leaving the checkerboard tile floor open.
The drag queens form a beaming huddle at the hostess station. A flash from Sunny’s phone makes me blink—I can only imagine the gaping, tearful, wide-eyed expression she captured. And, as my eyes adjust to the darkness and the intermittent light, I see that the queens aren’t the only ones there.
Dot catches my attention first as she twirls on a barstool, leaning close to an elegant woman with tattoos and a short haircut. Next to them, Marnie bounces with energy, hanging onto the guy next to her. She makes an eep sound, like she can’t contain her excitement.
My heart rams in my chest when my eyes land on Ivy. Instant comfort, warmth, good sister vibes—these feelings crash over me to see her, standing near the jukebox, giddy as she watches me, with Gil smiling beside her. An iPad hangs from his neck with Dad and Christie waving from the screen.
My eyes dart from the iPad to Ivy to Henry and back again as I try wrangling my big feelings.
“Welcome to Prom,” DeeDee announces with a wide grin, and I gasp, a sharp inhale that everyone hears.
Henry eases his arm around me. “It wouldn’t be a prom without other people, but I didn’t want just anyone… These are our people.”
A choking sob bubbles up my throat—our people. That feels almost as wonderful as the realization that, “You… you did all this… for me?”
The words barely come out, but Henry leans closer, holding onto me like he’s afraid I might swoon. Given my rapid heartbeat and surging emotions, I could swoon. I brace myself against his shoulder.
“I wanted to give you something you’d remember forever,” he says, looking sheepish and blushing under his glasses. “Something for us.”
“I-I-I’m overwhelmed,” I whisper to him, “but in a good way.” I swipe away tears that clash with my smile. “I don’t know what to say. What’s the customary response to the most beautiful, romantic gesture anyone has ever done for you?”
“Just say you’ll dance with me,” Henry says before nodding to the queens.
“Yes, of course,” I manage.
Lucy claps beside DeeDee as her arms open in a dramatic flourish, and the jukebox, aglow in soft yellows, blues, and pinks, hums over the speakers as a song starts to play—“Everything Has Changed” by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran.
Henry leads me to the center of the room and slips his hands around my waist. His fingers slide along my bare spine, bringing me closer, his touch calming me.
My arms settle on his shoulders, careful of my wrist bouquet, and my thoughts spin—Henry says he’s falling in love with me again, and the evidence is all around me.
It is enchanting, overwhelming, and uniquely us.
No romance novel could compete with this.
The other couples join us, offering greetings as they take their places around the makeshift dance floor.
Dot introduces her wife, Jaye, and says, “Nice shindig, Henry. Chasing’s working out for you, eh?”
Henry smirks. “Always, right?”
Marnie spins in her partner’s arms, facing us and leaning against him. He wraps his tattooed arms around her. “Henry and Venus, meet Grady, my husband,” she says, giggling and tilting her chin toward him. “Gosh, I still love saying that.”
He nuzzles her neck before smiling at us. “Nice to meet you. Best prom I’ve ever been to.”
“Glad you and Marnie could join us,” Henry says.
“You’re Gil’s brother,” I say. “I see the resemblance.”
He nods and glances at Ivy and Gil. “Yep, I’m betting our families will be seeing a lot more of each other.”
“I concur,” I say.
“It’s so exciting,” Marnie bubbles. “I can’t wait for Ivy’s bachelorette party—”
“Hold up,” Grady cuts in, laughing. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. No one’s asked anyone about marriage yet.”
Her smile widens. “It won’t be long, Grady. We’ll have to do something very special for her, huh, Vee?”
Usually, I wouldn’t be pleased by event planning, but I don’t mind in this case.
If Ivy should choose to marry Gil, I’d like to be involved in the festivities.
That’s what sisters do, I’m learning—provide unsolicited fashion advice, dance in parking lots, and offer support in crises and festivities alike. As she’s doing for me right now.
“Yes, I’d like that,” I tell Marnie.
“Oh, Henry, it’s a shame your folks couldn’t make it,” she adds.
Henry’s eyes cut to mine. “Yeah, um, they were busy. Short notice.”
His response sounds forced, and I wonder if they had plans or if Maggie didn’t want to see me. Probably the latter, but I don’t entertain the thought for long.
Ivy twirls across the dance floor, dragging Gil behind her, and she insists on an embrace, breaking between Henry and me and latching on to my neck. I don’t mind.
“Isn’t it so sweet and gorgeous, Vee? Marnie, DeeDee, and I did the decorating,” she gushes. “It was Gil’s idea to invite Dad and Christie.”
Gil holds up the iPad secured around his neck.
“Oh, Venus and Henry… this is so… I can’t… It’s gorgeous… I can’t… ” Christie babbles, almost incoherently, and waves a hand over his face to dry his tears.
“Hmm, I believe Christie is trying to say we love you two, and we’re glad you finally got your prom,” Dad says. “As I like to say… one should always make time for dancing.”
Christie coos and waves his hand again. “Always.”
I want to speak. My mouth opens. But my words are inexplicably blocked by the lodge in my throat.
It’s not just that Henry has enacted this beautiful gesture for me.
It’s that they all have, that they’re here to share it.
I’ve been away from my family for years.
Months would go by without speaking to them.
I barely even know Christie. And yet, seeing them on the screen solidifies the fact that I miss them. I’ve missed them all along.
Ivy, Gil, Dad, Christie, and Henry stare at me, waiting, but I only choke on a sob.
“Um, now’s a good time for dancing,” Henry says, finally, as I lean into his shoulder, embarrassed at my inability to give a customary response. I should be thanking them for their attendance, complimenting Ivy’s dress, and asking Dad and Christie about their travels—not emoting in silence.
“Good idea,” Ivy says, before whispering, “Ins and outs. It’s okay.”
I nod as she takes Gil and his iPad away.
“Come here.” Henry tugs me into our pocket again. Swaying to the music, his hands slipping up and down my back, and warmed by his breath on my cheek, I practice my breathing and slowly my surging emotions level out to a dull rumble.
Tucked against his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around him, I finally manage to speak. “I-I’m happy, Henry.”
“Then, we’re even,” he says, edging away enough to see my face.
“Is it strange that I wish Olly were here?” I ask.
“Not at all,” he says, his smile growing. “He’s your biggest fan, after all.”
“I might be his, too.” I swallow another lump in my throat. “I-I’m not falling in love with you, Henry.”
His brow quirks curiously. “Are you sure?”
I nod, nuzzling my nose with his. “Loving you is a fixed constant. Unchangeable, regardless of any experiment.”
“Let’s stop calling it that,” he says. “Let’s be a fixed constant. You and me, together.”
“I…” Reasons and worries crowd my thoughts, hindering my agreement. He makes it sound so simple, but it isn’t.
His smile falls slightly at my hesitation. “Let’s just dance for now.”
Stricken speechless again, I only nod, but I’m grateful that once again, he’s released the pressure.
We dance, slowly, closely, keeping the same pace even as the songs change. Hips pressed and swaying, legs mingling around each other, it feels delightfully like sex, only softer and sweeter.
He lets the silence linger, comforting me.
“I’ve never done this before,” I whisper into the heart-shaped pocket between us.
He kisses my forehead while his fingers drift up and down my spine. “You’d think we would’ve tried it after watching Dirty Dancing.”
I chuckle against him. “Or Sixteen Candles.”
“Or When Harry Met Sally,” he adds. “Mom’s basement wasn’t exactly a romantic venue.”
“I don’t know. I thought so. A few times.”
“Which times?”
“Oh, the time you got creeped out by The Blair Witch Project and snuggled closer under the blanket,” I chuckle.
“I wasn’t creeped out. I pretended, so I’d have an excuse to get closer to you.”
“Hmm, if you say so.” I don’t quite believe him, but I want to.
“What else?”
“When I fell asleep on your shoulder during Dazed and Confused.”
His fingers tickle my back. “I played the movie a second time to keep you there longer.”
“Did you? How sweet.”
“I’m a sweet guy,” he smirks. “What else?”
“Never Been Kissed. That prompted our first discussion on the use of absolutes,” I remind him. “And our mutual desire not to end up kiss-less.”
“That was our best basement moment. Remember how funny we were?”
The memory rushes in, making my cheeks heat against an unstoppable smile. “Oh, which part? Our lengthy discussion that led to agreeing to be each other’s first kiss, deciding what kind of kiss it should be, or the act itself?”
“All of the above. Your argument for being each other’s first kiss was very convincing.”
“I believe you negotiated for a soft, slow kiss rather than a quick peck,” I say. “That was the better plan.”
He chuckles. “You insisted on no tongue, but then…”
My eyes widen. “I got a little carried away. You didn’t seem to mind.”
A delightful pink twinge appears beneath the rims of his glasses. “No, I didn’t.”
The same firecracker warmth spreads through me, just as it did then, and he leans down, softly, slowly, to recreate it.
“This is the best date I’ve ever had,” I tell him when we part. “It’s like you studied all of our favorite rom-coms to devise a plan for this evening.”
“I just thought of what would be nice for us.”
His words remind me of Dad’s, about finding our normal.
And suddenly, this is it—it’s right here, all around me—and I imagine more for us, like tonight has opened a portal into an alternate universe that I didn’t think could exist. A universe with Henry.
The dried chrysalis of the past, holding my guilt and faulty notions about myself, is finally falling off my tired shoulders—a relief because I’m so sick of carrying it.
Those mistakes, that night, shouldn’t wreck us forever.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, Henry.”
“Us together—that’s perfect, Vee.”
After several songs, the other couples meander to the bar, and DeeDee announces a “Milkshake break!” We perch on barstools between the other couples and share a strawberry milkshake with two straws.
“How very Norman Rockwell,” DeeDee gushes, leaning across the bar and beaming at us. “Jay would’ve loved this. With the jukebox playing, it feels like he’s here.”
Henry smiles. “Yeah, it does.”
“Besides, he never said no to a party,” DeeDee laughs, and Henry seems warmed by the memory.
Soon, Ivy declares Henry and me Prom King and Queen. She and Marnie adorn us with handmade crowns, gaudy and bejeweled but brilliant. We take pictures and act silly. We laugh over our guests’ bad prom stories.
We pick songs on the jukebox, and everyone starts dancing, like we’re in a musical. It’s surreal and vivid, like stepping into a painting in a museum. The queens teach us to shag, barely, and by the end, we’re hot and sweaty and laughing hysterically.
Somewhere in the midst of our night with our people, I imagine that I could stay.
Here. Forever. That I could give up tents and wild rivers and mountainsides for something just as beautiful.
Milkshakes, holding hands, camping in the backyard.
I could buy a little house, get a dog, and have a job that keeps to regular business hours.
I could be here for Ivy and Dad. But especially for Henry and Olly.
I could stay. I could be very happy.
It’s the best night I’ve ever had. And for once in my life, I can’t stop smiling.