“How are you?” they asked. “Like, in your head?”
Beth smiled. “Good, actually. I was ready this time. Therapist on speed dial, physio booked in for the foreseeable future. Plus, he’s sleeping better than Simon did.”
“Good,” Sal said with relief. “He’s such a little cutie.”
“He is. But he’s also too pinned down by gravity to be much of a problem right now. Unlike your brother.”
“Sorry?”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this all week,” Beth said. “I know about him putting the hard word on Curtis for you. I almost screamed when I found out.”
Sal winced. Byron had promised he wouldn’t let his very-recently-expelled-a-human-from-her-body wife worry about their dumb shit. “He told you?”
“I figured it out. Nice try, both of you. Byron was very clever, trying to pretend it was some football related thing, but the man can’t lie for shit. Imagine my horror when I find out he actuallyblew his stack because a boy tried to talk to him about dating his sister...”
“He was just trying to look out for me.”
“Of course,” Beth said lightly. “But he’s also sleep-deprived and worried about meandtrying to make up for lost time with you.”
“What?”
“He feels really guilty about not being more supportive of you being non-binary. Especially when you were living at home. I think a lot of this Curtis-stack-blowing is about that. But also, when I finally got him to be honest about what the dude actually said about you, he was nothing but respectful, Sal.”
Sal picked at the corner of a pink throw blanket, their fingers trembling.
“Byron’s such a knob sometimes,” Beth muttered. “He’s one to talk about football players all being dirtbags—he was one.”
“He always told me that’s how he knows.”
“Hypocrite. Anyway, there isn’t one kind of football player, which I reminded him when he tried to defend his 1980s sitcom behaviour.”
Sal looked away. Part of them wanted to have the conversation. Most of them wanted to tear their shirt off, run into the street and start screaming until someone called the cops. “Anyway… how are you sleeping?”
“No,” Beth said firmly. “You’re not getting me with that Thomas classic. I’ve spent too much time with your brother. We’re talking about this, my love.”
Sal groaned. “But it’s so boring!”
“No, it really isn’t. So, let’s do it. I’m assuming you didn’t want Byron to go nuts at Curtis. I mean, it’s actually really cute that he wanted to let Byron know that he was into you, right?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sal muttered. “It’s just not gonna work.”
“Really? Because you seem quite sad.”
Sal pulled harder at the blanket, pulling a thread loose and flicking it aside. “He sent me flowers yesterday.”
Beth smiled. “That’s pretty sweet.”
“It’s cringe.”
“I get that, but it’s also sweet. I think you should tell me how you’re feeling. And we have a full bottle of whiskey somewhere if you need cocktails to smooth the process along.”
Sal smiled sadly. It felt like forever ago that they’d rolled up to the place Beth was housesitting to have a drink and ask for advice about their parents. It was depressing to think they were back in that same place with a far more embarrassing, football-player related issue. “I dunno, dude. I really think I’m better off just leaving it.”
“Because Curtis is this he-man sports guy?”
God, she was switched on. Why couldn’t Sal be attracted to someone like her? Why couldn’t they fall for some nice femme with two kids and just slot into the textbook gay family?
“Sal?” Beth pressed. “Just say what you’re thinking. At the very least, you’ll feel better.”
