The frame was disappointingly, heartbreakingly empty. Colson ran his fingertips over the blank space. “No sign of the photograph?”
“No, I’m sorry.” Martinez met his gaze. “I heard it was a sentimental picture.”
“My grandparents. My favorite one I had of the three of us.”
The detective’s brow creased, and his eyes reflected sympathy. “We’re still looking, Mr. Delacourt. If we find it, we’ll be sure to return it. I can’t give you the items just yet as they’re in evidence, but we believe we’re closing in on the gang. So hopefully soon.”
“I hope so too. You think you know who these bastards are?”
“We have an idea, but we want to make it as tight a case as possible.”
“I understand. It’s just so…creepy, knowing someone’s been in your home, touching your things.” He shivered. “Have you ever been robbed?”
“No, but I understand what you’re saying. It’s a violation of your personal space. But you’re home now, correct?”
“Yes,” Colson answered with more confidence than he felt. “I refuse to let these fuckers drive me out of my own space.”
Martinez nodded with approval. “Good. That’s the right attitude. We’ll get them, and things should return to normal for you soon.”
“Thanks.”
But on the walk home, Colson realized he wasn’t sure it would ever be normal again. Even now, in the early afternoon, he was hesitant to be there alone. Was it only a few weeks earlier he’d considered his house a sanctuary? His safe space? He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, then decided to head to the park and sit in the sun. He’d written his words for the day and deserved a break.
He sat on a bench by the water and stared out at the skyline across the river. Seagulls skimmed the surface, and boats sailed past. When he’d turned four, his father had started taking him out on their boat, and they’d spend the day together on the Long Island Sound. But after a few years, after he’d shown no signs of sailing aptitude and preferred reading a book rather than learning about masts and flaps, his father had stopped bringing him. He left for college, with his father’s words ringing in his ears.
College will make a man out of you.
And when he lost his virginity to a man he barely knew, he heard that taunt in his head. With each and every man he let touch him and whom he touched and kissed and fucked, he’d think,Am I enough of a man for you now, Dad?Knowing all along, he’d never measure up to who his father wanted him to be.
Futile as it was, he’d tried to keep communication open between him and his parents, but they’d never reciprocated. It had always been him reaching out. Even Evan had dismissed it, but Colson understood. Evan had kept his sexuality a secret until he’d graduated business school. The day he came out, his parents refused to accept it and cut him off, so Evan had little desire to have Colson and his parents make peace.
But now, after the break-in, the desire grew stronger, and without thinking about what he’d say, he placed the call. It rang several times.
“Hello? Colson? Is it you?”
“Mom, yeah. How are you?”
“Is everything all right?”
Not exactly a warm and loving response after not speaking for so long. But Colson wasn’t surprised. That was the way they were.
“Yes. I’m okay. I was just thinking…maybe it would be nice to talk.”
“About what?”
He blinked and huffed. “I don’t know…what we’ve both been doing all these past years. Come on, Mom.”
“I don’t understand what you think I should say. You told us the distressing news and didn’t even ask us how we felt.”
As usual, his mother was making it all about her and her feelings, completely negating his. Not to mention calling his coming out “distressing news.”
“Out of curiosity, what would be the purpose of asking how you felt about my being gay? It’s not going to change anything.”
“Really, Colson. I know you like to think of yourself as rebellious, but couldn’t you have—”
“What, Mom? Not been gay?”
“I’ve heard that sometimes men think they are…that way…but later they realize it was only curiosity and they return to normal.”
