Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Silas hummed. “You guys were always tight.”
“They certainly were,” Aunt Rhona agreed, steering him toward a wall of embarrassing baby photos of my sister and me. “Those two were so precious. Harry and I couldn’t have children of our own, but we got to spoil Coop and Elle and send them home jacked up on sugar whenever they visited. That was before they moved in.”
“You lived here? In this house?” Silas asked.
“After their dad passed away. It was best for everyone at the time, though I don’t think Coop’s sister, Elle, agreed.” Aunt Rhona snickered. “She missed her friends in Fallbrook. But Coop had Reg. His folks lived right next door. Still do. Rose and Clark. Rose and I used to smoke pot at the lake with those cute Canadian boys who moved into town our senior year. Remember that, Harry?”
“That was me! I was the cute Canadian boy,” he yelled from the kitchen.
Aunt Rhona winked. “I knew that.”
Poor Silas had been subjected to a heap of family lore to go with his pot roast. My aunt and uncle had talked about their hippie days, hitchhiking clear across the country. They’d lived in California, Oregon, Washington, Saskatchewan, Nova Scotia, Maine, and a few other places they couldn’t remember.
“We wanted to do it all, see it all, but…it was nice to be home for Coop and Elle,” Harry said. “Family matters, eh?”
Later that night, Silas and I sat on Adirondack chairs in front of the fire pit at his friend’s house, sipping beers and listening to the forest animals chatter and the crackle of wood. He loved Rhona and Harry and their stories of their endless adventures.
“Were they really Hare Krishnas in the eighties?”
I shrugged. “Supposedly, there are photos somewhere. I was just a kid, so who knows? My dad thought they were a couple of nuts. He didn’t like us hanging out with them too much. Part of me gets that, but they were good to us when he died. They took care of us and made room for us…no questions asked.”
“That’s cool. You’re lucky.”
“I didn’t always feel that way, but yes, I am.”
Silas set his empty bottle on the ledge of the pit and tugged the sleeves of his sweatshirt to ward off the evening chill. “So…you and Reg?”
I let out a wry chuckle. “What are you insinuating?”
“I think you know.”
“Hmm.” I rolled the bottle in my hands, gazed trained on the fire. “Yeah, we were…not boyfriends, but secretly something more than friends in high school.”
“Ah. Well, I hate to break it to you, but Rhona and Harry clocked it. Do you think they knew way back then?”
“Yep. My aunt caught us fooling around on the sofa in the basement. Teenage nightmare come true,” I huffed. “Poor Reg almost had a heart attack. He was sure she was going to tell his parents. She went out of her way to assure us that queer sex was a beautiful thing and even bought us condoms. He wouldn’t look at me for a whole week after that.”
“Oh, man.”
I waved dismissively. “I didn’t blame him. His dad was strict, and times were different. We both married women, had kids, and got divorced before coming out as queer.”
Silas’s mouth fell open. “Really? I thought you’d been out for a while.”
“No. Maybe five years. Sarah knew, and obviously Reg…but that’s it.”
“Oh. So…did she care?” He winced. “Sorry. Maybe that’s personal. I just—no one knows about me. No one. And I don’t plan on coming out till I retire…if I do at all. But sometimes I wish I could tell somebody. It feels more real now, maybe. I dunno. I’m babbling. Ignore me.”
I reached out and linked our fingers. “It’s okay. It’s not too personal. I don’t talk about it either. With Sarah, it felt like something I needed to be honest about going into our marriage. I didn’t want any secrets, so I made sure she knew I was bisexual.”
“Did she care?”
“No, not at all. She’s cool. She’s…” I squinted, unsure where I was going with this. “Let’s just say my bi-ness wasn’t the reason we failed as a couple.”
Silas was quiet for a long moment, then blurted, “Oh, fuck it. I’m nosy. What happened?”
I bristled instinctively. I didn’t talk about that chapter. Ever.
But Silas’s expression was almost manically earnest. I wanted to laugh, though the story wasn’t particularly funny. It was heartbreaking and a little humiliating. And yet, if anyone knew what that was like, it was Silas.
“She fell in love with someone else,” I said, gaze fixed on the embers.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“Meh. She married him. Good guy, too. Frank sells life insurance or something equally boring, but more lucrative than logging. Or so she assumed.”
“She cheated on you.”
I froze as if I’d been slapped, then puffed out my cheeks and exhaled. “Yeah, I think so.”