As I was about to pull out of the space and go home, a pair of maintenance men walked behind my car and started up a conversation.
“Did you hear about Freddy getting arrested?”
“Yeah, it’s been making the rounds through the gossip mill. I’m not surprised.”
“Freddy was always a first-rate asshole. He drove Nancy out. Even when the guys that got together to defend her, the boss tookhisside.”
“Because they’re family. Blood is thicker than sexual harassment, man.”
“I hope they throw the book at him.”
“Don’t let the boss hear that. He’ll find an excuse to fire you like he did Nancy.”
“Prick. You wanna’ hang tonight?”
“Scotty’s pub?”
“Aight, see you there.”
It wasn’t my opinion, but fact the fucking sun shinned just for Danny, and he could do no wrong. The assholes had taken the sun away from him and whatever it took, I’d ensure the sun would shine for him again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Danny
Ronnie got me set up on the porch with a book and a light blanket. My headache had abated to a light throb, and I didn’t want to waste the day. It was past noon, the air cool and comfortable, the autumn vibes getting me excited for pumpkin spice and all the fall colors I loved. Also, because I refused to let my life be dictated by bigots and dickheads, and wallowing alone in my bed was depressing and not at all fun.
“Anything to drink?” she asked, laying the blanket over my legs. “I can make us some apple cider tea.”
“I think I’m good for now. Did Jere say what time he’d be back?” I’d woken up alone and instantly missed him. I needed him fiercely right now but accepted he had his own way of dealing with things. He was like a hit of dopamine, his presence both soothing me and elevating my spirit so it felt like I might die of happiness. Until he came back to me, I’d make do with a good book and the sound of birdsong.
“Danny, honey,” she said and sat down next to me in the empty lawn chair. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh, okay,” I muttered and set my book in my lap.
She took my hand, her lip between her teeth. “You know I think it’s funny I used to hate singing karaoke in front of a bunch of strangers. You got me on stage and now I’m the one that has to force you to sing with me.”
I smiled, squeezing her hand. “You’re a better singer than I am. You deserve to be on that stage. Me? I’m like nails on a chalkboard.”
“Oh, you are not. Maybe more like a parrot squawking, but—”
“Ronnie!” I gasped and smacked her on the arm.
She laughed, her smile lighting up her face. She had bags under her eyes and her hair was a mess, but she was beautiful to me. I could never express how grateful I was to have her in my life.
She was quiet for a long moment, her attention on a beetle crawling across the wooden boards of the porch. “Danny, Jere knocked some sense into me this morning. But I think I’d rather give you the option.”
“What kind of sense?” I asked. “Everyone used to say he wasn’t bright, and I think he’s convinced himself he isn’t smart, but he is very world wise.”
“He made me realize this morning I’ve been running from what happened and that’s not fair to you. He none too politely ordered me to tell you what happenedthat night, but I think I want to give you the option,” she said, practically jumping in my lap, her grip tightening around my hands. “If you want every detail about what happened, I’ll tell you. And if you don’t, that’s okay too. I want it to be your choice.”
I moved my mouth like a fish, my thoughts swirling. “I…” I pulled my attention from her, swallowing something hard and painful. “I thought I might remember after all this time, but after last night, the confusion of trying towillmy memories into existence… Ronnie, I need tounderstand. Please, tell me.”
She nodded ruefully as if she’d been expecting my answer. She pulled in a big breath of late-summer air and pinched her eyes closed. “We shared a lunch of tacos and a slice of tres leches cake for my birthday. Sometime in college you’d taken to celebrating my birthday as the day I’d officially transitioned. It always meant so much to me you remember a date I must have mentioned in passing.”
“May second, when you filled your first prescription for hormonal therapy,” I said. “You told me that was the day you felt like you’d been born.”
“We had lunch, went shopping and ended up at a bar where we sang karaoke and got tipsy. We decided none of us was sober enough to drive so we walked over to a late-night diner for a midnight snack. Do you remember any of that, honey?”
