His aunt looks away, her jaw tight. There’s still hardness in her eyes, but also something else, which Owen hopes could be doubt. “We saw the marks on Joel.”
“The marks heforcedWill to leave on him. Why didn’t you stop it if you thought Joel was in danger?”
“He… he said he’d kill himself if we got between them.”
“Yeah, he said the same thing to Will to make him stay. And at the same time, he kept Will isolated and made everybody think he was an abuser. My God, a man who is supposedly being abused by his boyfriend doesnotgo around town telling people about it just so he can also tell them to butt out. Either you keep your mouth shut and suffer quietly, or you seek help by speaking up. Am I wrong?”
His aunt still looks away, but the doubt is stronger in her eyes. She says, “He should have left town, then, right after Joel died.”
“Back when his sister got sick? He’s a better man than that.”
She lets out a deep sigh and finally meets his eyes. “Whether or not this town has done wrong to Will Thomas doesn’t make your relationship with him any less ridiculous.”
Owen digs his fingernails into his knees. “Please don’t call our relationship ridiculous. We’ve just established that you don’tknow everything.”
“I know that I agreed to have my nephew here so he could keep a low profile and get his act together.”
“And haven’t I been doing that?” He’s hurt that all of his hard work can be so easily dismissed.
“Since the day you got here, I have been proud of you—and I made sure your parents knew that. But you have been lying to me, Owen, and I don’t know how you can expect to keep a low profile when you’ve just invited a shitstorm of trouble.”
“A shitstorm for you as well, right?”
She raises a warning finger. “Don’t think I give a fuck about what people think or say about me. Some call me a dyke because I curse too much. Some think I let my husband die for the insurance money. Fuck all of those hillbillies. This is aboutyou, Owen, and whatyouwill need to deal with.”
“Then it should be up to me to decide if I’m ready to face what’s coming—and I am.”
The anger in her eyes is replaced with pity. “Oh, silly boy. You’re not ready at all.”
*
He waits for his aunt to go to sleep and passes the time by drawing Will. It has become like therapy to him, a secret way to calm his anxiety.
In the dimness of the house, he creeps downstairs and takes the cordless phone into the kitchen. He sits on the floor with his back against a cabinet, hoping it’s not too late to call Will. He wishes to go there right now and spend the night with him, but there’s still tension between him and his aunt, so he’d rather not push it. He can’t tell yet if she’ll have his back when push comes to shove, but at least she didn’t threaten to kick him out. Yet.
“Hello?”
Owen lets out a sigh. “It’s me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I thought we’d have more time before people started talking.”
“Me too, but perhaps the same person who tried to keep me away from you is giving it another try.”
Will remains quiet for a few moments before saying, “It makes sense that it was him.”
“Is it about his friendship with Joel? I don’t understand why it bothers him so much.”
Will once more grows quiet before he says, “Don’t try to make sense of this man. Does your aunt know?”
“Yes. She waited for me to get back home, all ready to fight. But I think we’re okay. I was honest with her. I wish…” He stops himself from saying he wishes that Will could be as honest with the rest of the town about what truly happened with Joel.
“You wish?” Will asks.
“I don’t know. I wish for some more time without drama, I suppose.”
