“That’s because you haven’t spilt the tea yet,” she replies.
“You’re grand at writing your own stories; you don’t need my help.”
“You might need ours,” Casey cuts in.
“And why would you think that?”
“Ah, Dad, you’re not exactly…” Evan says.
“Not exactly what?”
“You’re not great at this kind of thing,” my son goes on.
“And what would you know about that?”
Evan just raises an eyebrow.
“You mean I’m not good enough for him?”
“Him?”Casey leans on the counter, elbows down, edging closer to me.
“I meant…” I start, but it’s already too late.
“Please, Dad, don’t.We’ve already put all the pieces together, and after last night…”
“What about last night?”Casey asks.
“Martin was at our house, and then Jamie arrived,” Chris explains.
“And then what happened?”Casey presses.
“Nothing!What could have happened?”Evan says.“Dad almost collapsed, and Jamie was too busy trying not to stare at him!”
I turn to my son, who smiles at me, triumphant.
“That’s right,” he says.
“You’re just messing with me.”
“I can tell it was one of thoserun-fast-if-you-don’t-want-me-to-jump-on-youkinds of looks.”
“What do you know about that kind of look?”Chris asks.
“Mum, please.”
Chris gives up on Evan and goes back to questioning me.
“So… something’s going on.”
“I’m not discussing this with you.”
“All right, we’ll talk about it for you.”Evan rubs his hands together.“You’re still in the early stages.Maybe you’ve seen each other once or twice.There’s too much awkwardness — and way too much sexual tension — in the air.”
“Evan!”I snap.
“Can’t I say the word ‘sexual’?”
“Not when you’re talking to your dad,” I say.
