Gale glanced at the distant barn where the doors stood open. “He must have finally got it fixed.”
“Lex knows what he’s doing.”
A quiet moment of indecision passed before Gale aimed for the backyard. We found Merrison Windrow cutting even passesthrough the thick grass with his newly fixed mower. When he caught sight of his son, he let off the gas and waved.
Gale waved back, and although he didn’t indicate that he needed or wanted to talk, his dad powered down the engine and hopped off the machine, brushing flecks of grass off his jeans and shedding a pair of work gloves, leaving them behind on the mower’s seat.
I stood next to Gale, not touching, but close enough that I sensed his jittery nerves. I wanted to rest my hand on his lower back and whisper words of support and reassurance in his ear, but I didn’t.
“Good morning,” his dad called when he was close enough he didn’t have to shout. “Excellent timing. I forgot my hat, and that sun is going to bake my face off at this rate.” Merrison tipped his head in my direction. “Good morning, Ozrik.”
“Good morning. Got it fixed, I see.” I motioned to the mower.
“Yep. Lex got ’er running, but I figured I’d wait until this morning to tackle the grass. It was hot yesterday afternoon, and I would have cooked.”
“The jet stream is bringing a cold front. Clashing air masses are expected by the weekend. Arctic air vs subtropical air. Tornadoes possible.” Gale’s voice quivered as he recited random weather facts like a forecaster.
“I hear. Liv says you guys are running up to Kansas today?”
“Yes, sir.” I glanced at Gale, but he seemed numb. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, staring wide-eyed into nothing.
Inquiry hung in his dad’s eyes, and I sensed he was waiting for something to happen.
“How about some coffee?” he asked. “Are you boys just getting in? Have you had breakfast? I can pull something together lickety-split.”
“Coffee would be great.” I stepped closer to Gale and nudged his arm.
“Yeah. C-coffee. I need coffee.”
Merrison clapped his son’s shoulder. “I’ll get ’er started. You boys meet me inside when you’re ready.”
Gale was right. His father was no fool and knew exactly what was going on. The second he vanished, I rubbed Gale’s arm. “You’ve got this. He already knows what’s coming. The man could hardly contain his grin.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m serious. Put him out of his misery.”
Gale shook out his hands. “Why is it so hard?”
I had to think about it. Gale and I weren’t the same. To me, this was a piece of cake. To him, it was life-changing.
“I think you’ve spent so long convincing yourself of every possible way it could go wrong and bracing for impact that you forgot that there’s an entirely other outcome available. Not everyone is a bigot, Gale, and sometimes, it goes exactly as it should. Your dad is one of the good guys. Every gay kid out there should be so lucky to have a dad like yours. He’s going to love you no matter what.”
Gale’s eyes glistened in the morning sun, their surface wet with unshed tears. He blinked a few times and let out a heavy exhale. “Okay. I’m ready.”
We headed inside and were welcomed by the rich scent of brewing coffee. Merrison arranged three coffee cups on the counter and had a carton of eggs open and a frying pan on the stove. A pat of butter slowly melted in its center.
Gale moved to the counter and started cracking eggs into a dish. He added milk, whisked, and dumped them into the heating pan. He worked methodically, avoiding eye contact, spine rigid.
Merrison watched his son with a keen eye before glancing in my direction.
He asked without asking, and I nodded, answering the unspoken question.
Intervening, Merrison shut off the element, removed the spatula from Gale’s tight grip, and set it aside. He turned his son to face him and encouraged a trembling Gale into his arms, wrapping him in a bear hug. Merrison was a mountain of a man, and Gale sagged into the embrace as a load of anguish let go. A soft, barely repressed sob escaped his parted lips.
“It’s alright,” Merrison said, brushing a kiss on the top of Gale’s head.
For a while, Gale buried his face against his dad’s chest. I suspected he was crying and averted my eyes to give them privacy.
