Chapter 54
I love being home.
I love my parents. I love that I know Larry’s daughter wants to be a teacher and that Mrs. Davies is going stir-crazy, recovering from hip surgery. I love sitting in Alice’s kitchen, hands cupped around a hot cup of coffee, while she rolls out dough and makes me laugh until I cry.
I love the wide spaces and thin roads and being able to see the stars at night.
But right now? I’m nervous as hell.
Not because of Huey—oh, no, that became clear as soon as we stopped for gas. There he was, two pumps over, back turned, smiling to himself, unaware that I was only a few feet away. I stared at him, waiting for anger, tears, betrayal to bloom within me, but there was only relief.
He’s happy here, and I’m happy in Chance. It’s better this way.
That aside, I did point him out to Lucky and Sterling and got a wicked thrill at how much they instantly hated him, smiling as Lucky came up with ways to pay him back somehow.
“Brilliant decision, this,” Lucky says as he pops a piece of pork in his mouth.
We made it to my parents’ house in time for dinner, and he was given strict instructions to stay out of the kitchen. Ma quickly slaps his hand away from getting a second, but she’s smiling back at him when he tells her how good it is.
“Go make yourself useful.”
Lucky’s laugh follows him out the kitchen, and even Sterling’s smiling until Ma rounds on him too.
“You too. Come on. Out.”
He nods with all the weight of a man given a royal decree, and I’m so immensely thankful to have them both in my life that I forget I’m not alone until Ma’s hustled so close to me that it’s like she’s trying to mind-meld with me.
No, the reason I’m nervous has nothing to do with Huey and everything to do with the two men I’m certain I’m falling in love with.
Ma took one look up at them when she opened the door, her thick auburn hair piled high, and said, “I see trouble has arrived.”
She knows. In that Ma way of knowing, I know she knows. And from the way she’s looking at me now, she knows I know she knows.
This is why I’m nervous.
“Honey, are you sure you’re eating enough?”
“Yes, Ma.”
Jean Finnegan is a smile, wrapped in a hug, stuffed into a person. She talks loud and sings louder and doesn’t care that she’s never been in tune. She also has as much tact as a donkey.
“Because I know you don’t like cooking—”
“Don’t worry; Lucky always makes sure I have at least one home-cooked meal a day.”
Ma squeezes my shoulder. “He’s a sweet boy.”
Here we go.
“Yes, he is very sweet.”
“And handsome.”
Oh my God.
“He’s here with his boyfriend.”
Pa steps into the room and doesn’t miss a beat. “I seem to remember you being obsessed with a Sterling before you left.”
I can hear murmurs of conversation coming from the dining room, which hopefully means they aren’t hearing this.
“I wasn’t obsessed.”
“Those aren’t his articles you have pinned above your desk?” he teases.
Oh God, he’s right; they are still there. New rule: Sterling and Lucky cannot see my bedroom.
“I should go help them set the table.”
Ma shoves a butter knife in my hand and sets me in front of the rolls. “They’ll figure it out.”
Pa is less subtle. “They care about you.”
“We’re friends.”
“It would be okay if it was more. Relationships don’t always look one way. If three of you want something different, then you should have it. Don’t hold yourself back from something good because of what anyone else might think.”
It sucks all the air from my lungs, and I lower the knife to force a full breath back in.
“It’s not …” I start, but one look at him, and I know he knows too.
“It’s just me, okay? It’s not—they’re not—” I take another breath.
“They’re happy, and I’m happy for them, and I’m dealing with the rest of it. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”
He shares a look with Ma over my shoulder, but I’m saved from any further discussion of a throuple situation when Alice’s car pulls up outside.
She rushes me as soon as she’s in the front door, almost dropping the stack of Tupperware she’s carrying before Sterling steps in and rescues it. I squeeze her tighter and bury my face into her shoulder. Every bad thought melts in the face of sugar and flour and cinnamon.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
She lowers her voice to a whisper. “There’s extra cinnamon rolls in the car.”
“I love you.”
Alice is the best person in the world. Hands down, no competition.
Hilariously, the first time I ever heard the term polyamory was after Alice and I marched up to our parents to tell them we were getting married someday, only to then have to explain to them that we meant as friends, obviously, and that we’d also have husbands, duh.
A few awkward explanations—and my ma excusing herself to cackle in the kitchen—later, a whole new world of possibilities opened up to me.
Alice is sharp, of eyes and mind, a riot of black ringlets cascading around her at all times, with a laugh that will restore joy to your heart.
She’s my moon, my stars, my faith when all is lost. I can’t imagine life without her.
“Oh my gosh.” She pulls back. “Remember the state fair I was telling you about? They got back to me! I’m in. This time next year, you’ll be looking at a gold-medal baker.”
“Heck yeah, I will be. That’s amazing.” That’s Alice for you. “Hey, I’ll come cover it, get some photos you can use for the website. Make it a girls’ weekend too. Drink a little, flirt a little …”
“You might not want to tell your boyfriends that in case they do something drastic.”
“We’re just friends.” Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?
“Who you’re in love with.”
“Shh.” I cover her mouth with my hand. “That’s between you, me, and the cinnamon rolls I’ll be comfort-eating later.”
* * *
After dinner, Ma puts music on, and Lucky pulls me out of my chair to dance. Mostly, he picks me up and spins us until I’m worried dinner will make a reappearance, but it’s the lightest I’ve felt in months.
When the song ends, Sterling holds out his hand. “May I cut in?”
I step back so he can join Lucky, but it’s Lucky who moves away.
“Look after our girl for me.”
Sterling’s hand is warm in mine. His other settles on my back, and I’m trying desperately not to notice every little detail—the buttons at his collar that he loosened during dessert, the heat radiating from him like a sunburn, his grip, his lips, his smell …
“Missing the city yet?” I ask to distract myself.
The music has slowed, and Sterling moves us in a gentle sway.
“Not at all.” He pauses, corrects himself, “A little.”
I thought so. “Thank you for getting us from the airport in one piece.”
“You’re welcome. I couldn’t let Lucky behind a wheel.” His eyes are always so bright. “Thank you for letting us be here.”
For a second, I could swear he wants to kiss me, but that can’t be right.
I drop my eyes, try to corral my heart back into place. Lucky has started washing the dishes, and I can hear him swapping recipes with Alice while Ma referees.
“What was he like in college?”
“Worse,” he says, and he’s not smiling, but there’s glee in his eyes.
“What were you like?”
“Worse,” he repeats.
I can barely imagine it. “I’m picturing you holed up in a dark corner, planning a horrific fate for anyone who dared disturb you.”
The laughter fades from his eyes.
Oh no. “Sorry, that was a terrible joke.”
“Is that really what you think of me?”
“No, no, of course not.” At least not now.
“But you used to.”
I sigh. Trying to lie to him is impossible.
“I didn’t know you then. You were this super-scary-slash-impressive big-time journalist. In my defense, the whole office was afraid of you.”
“I don’t care about them; I care about you.”
“Well, obviously, I’m not afraid of you now.” Just the super-scary-slash-impressively-big feelings I have about you. “I’m so sorry. It was a really bad joke; I just wanted to make you smile. Can we just forget I said anything?”
I take his silence as a yes, but I know I hurt his feelings, and it cuts deep. I need to fix this, but I’m not sure how. I didn’t know I could hurt him, and now I’ve messed up. I’ll need to ask Lucky what to do.
When the song ends, Pa calls it a night, and I do, too, walking Alice out to her car to say goodbye and get my hands on her treats.
It’s been years since the farm was operational and about six months since Louis convinced my parents to turn the barn into a vacation home.
They agreed mostly to keep Louis busy between jobs, but he did good, lots of warm colors and soft touches.
The light from the main house gives it a gentle glow, and by the time I step inside, the hum of crickets and smell of new grass soothe over the fraying parts of my soul.
I’ll always have a home here, always leave a part of myself behind when I go. No matter how far away I am, it’s waiting for me when I return. I could do that—come back, save myself more months, years, of wanting what I can’t have. My folks would welcome me. Alice too.
But I’d miss the city like a limb, and I’d be leaving two-thirds of my heart behind.
Lucky and Sterling are sitting together on the couch when I step out of the bathroom. I’m pinned by their joint gazes, a delicate trap I can’t help but feel I’ve laid a hand in setting.
It’s not their fault I love them. I should have moved out when they got back together. I knew I’d end up here, somehow, someway.
Where Lucky is a warm and inviting beach, Sterling is the cool and unknowable sea. As powerful as a riptide, as beautiful as the endless horizon. And I’ve let myself go adrift.
“Come,” Sterling says, the low command rearranging my body temperature.
I want to, but there’s a line between us I know will be crossed if I move.
Do I go?
* * *
Make Your Choice:
confess your feelings (go to 56)
go to bed (go to 55)
go back (go to 36)