“Hello?” he answered, sleep still clear in his voice.
“Good morning,” came his mother’s curt voice. “Am I waking you? I assumed you wouldn’t have been out late on Valentine’s Day, so there was no harm in having this conversation first thing.”
Noah ignored the dig at his dating life in favor of more important matters. “What conversation?”
“There’s been a mix-up with the wedding. One of your father’s business partners wanted to bring his wife but didn’t say so on the RSVP. It’s too late to change the seating or the catering arrangements.”
This wasn’t the first time his mother had called him with “a mix-up.” The first had been when she informed Noah that there wouldn’t be room for him and Aspen to stay at the house. Noah had insisted they only needed one bed, and his queen-sized bed would do, but his mother had scoffed and said she was adding him to the room block. All the other mix-ups had been something along these lines, her trying to accommodate the other guests at the expense of him, Braxton, his fiancée, and even sometimes Noah’s father.
“Okay. I mean, don’t some people RSVP but not end up coming to weddings? I feel like it’s probably okay to be one person over–”
“That’s not a chance we’re willing to take,” she said, her tone final like she’d already made the decision. If she didn’t want Noah’s input, why had she called him? “We’ve decided that you just won’t be able to bring a plus-one anymore. Plus-ones are meant for partners and spouses, and since Aspen is neither, there’s no need for you to have a plus-one anymore.”
It was rather impressive how she could avoid using Aspen’s pronouns if she tried hard enough. At least she’d gotten their name right while uninviting them from the wedding. “That seems a bit extreme–”
“It’s already been done. The day-of coordinator is redoing the seating chart, and it should be fine to move your cousin up to our table so you’ll still have afriend,” she said the word with such disdain that Noah couldn’t tell if it was meant for his cousin,who was one of those “California type” as his mother said, or for Aspen.
Noah’s brain was still waking up, and he almost just said it. Almost told her that Aspen was so much more than just a friend. He almost said that, actually, he would be needingtwoseats for his two…more than friends. But that would involve coming out as polyamorous, and probably greyromantic, and there was just no way he could ever do that. Aspen, Charlie, and his few other friends accepted him, and that was just going to have to be enough. At least for now.
Besides, Charlie had been very clear he wasn’t interested in going to the wedding, which, after last night’s revelation about his foster family, Noah could understand. Aspen wasn’t thrilled about it either; they were just going to provide emotional support. They could do that just as easily before and after the wedding, right? Maybe it could be a little mini-vacation for Aspen.
“Alright,” Noah said, because that was about as much as he could get past the press of all the things he would never say to her.
“Good. I’ll text you with the final details tonight.”
“Okay,” Noah sighed, and that got him a stern huff from his mother, but he was too tired to care.
He hung up and crawled back into bed. While he may never be able to come out to his parents, or any of his former friends and family back home, he could still enjoy a sleepy morning nestled between Aspen and Charlie.
Chapter 13
Aspen
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you, Aspen. You’ve been here for a little over a year, correct?” Susie asked as she clicked something on her computer screen.
Aspen was sitting across from her in her bright pink and purple office. Everything from the computer monitor to the mousepad to the picture frames on the wall were pink and purple. Aspen hadn’t intentionally dyed their hair to be the same color, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt their chances.
“That’s right, ma’am, I–”
“Please, call me Susie,” Susie said, not for the first time. She’d told Aspen this the last time they were in here pitching an idea for the salon and Charlie’s shelter, but they were nervous and had forgotten.
“Sorry, Susie. I’ve been here for a little over a year. After my divorce, I moved to this side of town, and after just one visit, with all the amazing staff and the beautiful space, I knew I wanted to work here.”
Susie smiled kindly at them. “Thank you for saying so, and I’m very glad you came to work here with us. It seems the work you and Blair—and now Kristen and a few of the other stylists—are doing is really beginning to make a name for us. I’ve seen ourflyers all over town, at the queer cafe down the road, and even on some online forums for queer safe spaces.”
Aspen nodded, because they weren’t sure what else to do. There was a picture on the desk of Susie with her arm around another woman, but Susie had never said anything about a partner or spouse so they didn’t want to assume.
“That wasn’t exactly my intent when starting the salon,” she went on. “I wanted it to be inclusive for all folks, regardless of sexuality and gender, but I hadn’t intended to have a queer salon, per se.”
Suddenly, Aspen wasn’t entirely sure why they’d been called into her office. Were they…in trouble? Had they upset Susie in some way?
She clicked her long, manicured nails on the keyboard a few more times before she reached up and grabbed the monitor, swiveling it around for Aspen to see. It had a logo on it, the name Pride Parlor, with scissors making up the ‘a’ and a rainbow next to the words.
“What do you think?”
“What do I…think?” Aspen asked.
“About the logo, but also the name. The salon is approaching its five-year mark, and I’ve been thinking about doing a rebrand anyway.”
