“Many ace people have children, Cody. Many have sex, too. Many of us are on a lifelong journey. Sexuality isn’t necessarily static.”
“But… I don’t understand.” It’s true. I don’t. I don’t understand anything anymore.
“When I met my wife, I already knew that I wasn’t like my friends. I just didn’t have a name for it back then. I knew Iwas different, but I didn’t know why.” Victor then laughs softly, shaking his head. “It was actually my wife who found a word for it first,” he smiles wistfully. “She’d read an article in a magazine and came and showed it to me one day. I think our kids must’ve been around ten and twelve. Our relationship was at a dead end. We were hardly speaking and the resentment between us was so thick that you could cut through it with a chainsaw.” Victor wipes at his eyes before continuing.
“She placed the article in front of me and said, ‘Read this, then come find me in the garden.’ It took me fifteen minutes to read the article and then three hours to come find her in the garden. By the time I was done howling on my office floor, it was late afternoon, and my wife was on her third glass of Chardonnay on the deck.” A wet sheen is coating Victor’s blue eyes by now, his story clearly leaving him raw and emotional. I’m stunned out of my mind. There’s no other way to explain how I’m feeling at this very minute. I’m in awe of Victor’s openness, but I’m also confused as fuck.
“When I sat down next to her on the deck swing, she took my hand and just said, ‘It’s okay. We’ve always known and now we have a word for it. Everything will be okay from now on.’ Just like that. No anger. No accusations. Just acceptance.” Victor clears his throat, wiping his hands along his face. I feel like I’ve just gone five rounds against Mohammad Ali. My head is spinning, and I feel like puking my guts out. “After a year, I quit my job as a high school math teacher and got a degree in sexuality and gender studies instead.”
“So, what are you saying?” I finally manage to say.
“I’m saying, young Cody, that there aren’t any guarantees in life. But there are regrets. Yes, there’s no guarantee that Luke is ace. And if he is, there are no guarantees that it’ll work out between you, anyway. People leave people every day for numerous reasons. They fall in love, and they fall out of love.They get bored or they get excited about someone new. You can’t pin your life and your happiness on guarantees, Cody. You can’t.” He pauses as his words settle inside my chest. It’s true. I’ve been looking for a guarantee that Luke is ace.
“I can, however, tell you I’m pretty sure you’ll regret it if you don’t explore this budding thing between you,” he smiles softly.
“How? How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s always the things we don’t do that haunt us at the end of our lives. It’s never the blows that life gave us or the hardship that fate sent our way. It’s never our mistakes. It’s what we failed to do. It’s those small pieces of happiness and light that we didn’t grab that fill us with regret. That leave us wishing we’d been brave and just gone for it. Because they could’ve changed everything. They could’ve been something great. Monumental even.”
Monumental.
“But what about your wife? I mean, you said that she isn’t ace. What about her?”
“What about her?”
“Isn’t she missing something?”
“You know, kid,” Victor chuckles. “I’ve lost count of the number of times I asked myself and her that question during that first year after we realized I’m ace. Torturing myself with guilt. Shame.” He pauses, licking his lips. “You know what she said? Every time I asked her?” I shake my head. I don’t know. I have no idea. And still, I feel like my entire future may just depend on it. Depend on the words of a woman that I’ve never met and likely never will meet.
“She said, ‘You silly man. Don’t you get it by now?’” I wait for Victor to continue. To elaborate. But he doesn’t.
“And what? That’s it?” That’s not an answer. That’s not a fucking epiphanic answer. Victor nods slowly.
“That’s it,” he laughs. “My wife is funny like that. She says something and lets you do the math.”
“The math?” I swallow.
“That I already have the answer to my question. That her staying by my side is my answer. The only answer there is.”
“But what if she changes her mind?” I ask, still dumbfounded.
“What if I change mine?” Victor says, and I know deep in my heart that he’s right. We can’t build our lives onwhat ifs.It’s not a solid foundation. It’s frail and feeble.Why not, on the other hand… Maybe that’s the question.
Why not?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Luke
Just as I anticipated—andwarned Cody about before we landed in Lancaster—my sisters are all over him. It’s like the fucking Pennsylvanian Inquisition from the moment we walk in the door at my parents’ house, with Elly and Lilly firing random questions at him. I know I’m the same, but still, let the guy catch a breather. Cody answers everything politely and with more patience that I could ever muster until my mom asks them about homework. That elicits a round of moans and complaints from my twin sisters, but if there’s one thing that my hippie mom has always been adamant about, it’s the value of a good education.
“Off you go,” she shoos them out of the kitchen, the smell of cardamom buns lingering in the air, making my mouth water. Where most kids have grown up with cinnamon rolls or chocolate chip cookies, my mom has had a passionate love affairwith cardamom for as long as I can remember. And I can’t say I blame her. Cardamom is fucking awesome. “Cody will still be here when you’ve finished your history essay.” She shoots them a glare that can’t be mistaken.
“And Roosevelt will still be dead tomorrow,” Lilly counters, a pout curling on her lips, her hands placed on her hips in protest. She looks one pout away from making a scene when my dad enters the kitchen. Holding out his hand toward Cody, he pats him on the shoulder.
“Good to see you again, Cody,” my dad hums enthusiastically as they shake hands. Cody blushes adorably as he returns my father’s welcome with a quiet, “Thank you for having me, Mr. Carrington.”
“Looking forward to enlightened dinner conversation,” my father winks, before throwing over his shoulder, “and you heard your mom, you devil’s spawn. Homework, now.” I try to smother a chuckle as my gaze finds Cody’s across the room. His granite eyes flicker between my parents and siblings, taking everything in. From his posture, I can tell that he’s nervous but not uncomfortable. It’s strange how I know these small nuances by now, but everything in me is so tuned into Cody. If he’s happy, I feel happy, too. If he’s not… well, let’s just say that I’ve made it my mission in life to make sure that he is.
