Clearing my throat, I say, “Yeah, it was…something.”
“I bet August is hurtin’ this morning.” Finn chuckles. “Hell,I’mhungover just thinkin’ about the number of tequila shots he tossed back.”
I open the dishwasher, needing something to occupy my hands and, hopefully, my mind so my son doesn’t notice that something is off with me. I’m normally pretty good at compartmentalizing shit, but this is different. I’m afraid it’ll be written all over my face if I’m not careful.
“What do y’all have planned for today?” I ask, avoiding eye contact as I transfer the clean mugs to the cabinet.
“Ash is teaching a couple classes today down at the community center, so it’s just the two of us for most of the morning. Tuck wants to go see some new movie, so we may do that. Then maybe grab some lunch.”
Ash is a yoga expert. Truly, I’ve never seen anybody as flexible and nimble as him. He’s tried convincing me to give it a shot—apparently, it’s good for stress and relaxation—but I’m not doing that.
“What’s the movie?”
“Some live-action remake. I can’t remember which one.”
“That’ll be nice.”
Coming up beside me, Finn grabs the plates out of the dishwasher. We unload the rest of it together, neither of us saying a word. The silence stretches on between us. It’s stuffy. Tense. And I can’t tell if it’s because of where my head is at this morning, or if there’s something he wants to talk to me about.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait long to find out because as soon as we finish, Finn heaves a sigh and says, “Hey, can I say somethin’ without it becoming a whole thing?”
I glance at him over the brim of my glasses. “Don’t like the sound of that,” I grumble.
“It’s nothin’ bad,” he says in an attempt to reassure me. It doesn’t work. “Hollis was talkin’ to me about their wedding plans last night, and I don’t know… I got to thinkin’ about you.”
My brows pinch together. “Me?”
“You’ve spent your whole life takin’ care of everything and everyone else. Me and Hollis, the ranch, Mom, before y’all got a divorce. You’ve given up so much for this family, and I don’t think anyone’s ever told you it was okay to want more.”
Where is this coming from?
“What’s gotten into you?” I ask with a forced chuckle. “Since when are you the sentimental type?”
“I just—” He sighs again, running his fingers through his hair like he can’t find the right words. “You’ve been alone since you and Mom split up. Do you ever wish you had somebody else here?”
My throat tightens. This isn’t something we talk about. Ever. Their mom, June, and I decided to end our marriage after Hollis graduated high school. It was about as amicable and mature as a divorce can be. And Finn’s right; I haven’t dated anyone else since then, but not because I’m still pining after their mom, or whatever he thinks is going on here. It was an intentional choice I made years ago. Being single is better for me. Less messy.
“I’m just fine by myself.”
Finn folds his arms over his chest, and he glances down at the counter before meeting my gaze again. He looks uncomfortable, which isn’t like him. It makes my heart race.
“I’m just sayin’, you’ve always loved Hollis and I unconditionally. Always advocated for us to be authentically who we are, no matter what anybody else thought. You taught us that families come in all shapes and sizes, and that no one version of a family is more ‘normal’ than another. I just want to make sure you know that Hollis and I love you unconditionally too. We want nothing more than for you to be happy. And if happy to you is a quiet, empty house and being by yourself, then great. But it’s also okay if you want more than that. We want to see you find love, Dad. After all the love you’ve given us, you deserve to find your person. You deserve to be loved for who you are.”
My pulse is a steady beat in my ears, and my mouth is dry. “I know that, Son,” I murmur, my voice rough. “I don’t know where this is comin’ from, but I promise, I’m very happy with my family and my life. I don’t need a partner to find happiness.”
“Okay, but I want you to know that whoever you are, or whoever you may end up loving one day, I want that for you. All of it. And I know Hollis does too.”
I swallow around a golf ball-sized lump in my throat. “Well, thank you, Son.”
Guilt hits me square in the chest. I’m gay, and it’s something I’ve kept hidden my entire life. My parents never knew when they were still alive, and I’ve never admitted it to my kids. Not when their mom and I got a divorce, not when they came out to me. This is something I’ve always known. Keeping it close to my chest has nothing to do with worrying that they’ll treat me differently. I know they won’t.
But I was raised in a very different time than my boys. Wolf Creek may be sliding more progressivenow, but back then, if you were different than what was deemed normal or acceptable, it was an unspoken agreement that you kept it quiet. My granddaddy was an old, traditional man, raised on strict beliefs set forth by his father and the church. He wasn’t shy about those beliefs, nor was he shy about his opinions of those who walked a different path in life. I didn’t agree with his way of thinking, but I did love him and never wanted to disappoint him, which meant hiding my truth.
I’m not ashamed of who I am, but I also don’t feel the need to come out either. I’m single, have been for many years, and never had plans of changing that. But every now and then, guilt creeps in, like right now, and I wonder if keeping this part of me a secret from my kids has been the wrong move.
“Daddy,” Tucker calls out as he runs into the kitchen. “Can we go to the movies now?”
Finn glances at the watch on his wrist and nods. “Yup, we better get goin’.”
