by Kyle Autumn
I give her one last squeeze and rest the side of my head against hers. “I know. One step at a time.” Then I let her go and stand up. “But maybe you could not run away,” I offer, holding my hand out to help her up.
When her hand lands in mine, it feels like much more than just assistance. The power behind her grip feels more like we’re making a deal. A deal to be more of a team on this. To stand stronger in the face of this new situation. We’re together. In strength and in reality.
How could that possibly go wrong?
Chapter 9
Zo
By some miracle, we’ve managed alone time for two weeks. Two whole weeks of that new-relationship goodness. That blissful, fun, everything-is-happy-and-good part of the relationship. We’ve even made it through two Thirsty Thursday nights out with Shiree and Lyra and no one’s suspected anything or been weird. And, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no end in sight.
Well, except for tonight, maybe. It’s the first Friday dinner with my family since Patti and I officially started dating. And, because we missed the one two weeks ago for Shiree’s party and last week because my parents were busy, they definitely want us both there. They miss us, they said, and we have to be there at six p.m. sharp.
If it weren’t 5:59 and I weren’t outside their house, parked behind Patti’s car, I probably wouldn’t be freaking out as much. But it’s 5:59—nope, it’s actually six now—and I’m outside their house, parked behind Patti’s car. So I’m a bucket of fear and worry. And the bucket is full.
“Zoeybell!” my dad says with enthusiasm as I walk in the door. Then he hugs me tight. “How was work today?”
I practically melt in his embrace. I love my dad, how soft he is with me and kind he is to my mom. And I’m sure he’d love for me to end up with a man just like him. But, when I think about it, Patti’s also soft and kind. She’s exactly what he wants for me. Just with the wrong parts. And that, to them, makes all the difference. Obviously, I won’t be telling them tonight.
“It was fine, Dad.” I squeeze him back and then let go to follow him into the kitchen.
My mom’s at the stove, pulling a roast out of the oven. “Hi, honey. Glad you made it right on time.”
“Smells good, Mom,” I say, dropping into the chair next to Patti’s.
“Doesn’t it?” Patti turns to my mom’s back. “You’ve outdone yourself, Ma. I can’t wait to dig in.” When she faces me again, she’s smiling, her eyes lit up.
“She’s been slaving over it for hours,” my dad tells us, putting his arm around my mom while she stirs gravy in a pot.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She dismisses us with a wave of her hand. “Patti, doll, will you set the table? Zo, want to get the silverware and napkins?”
“Of course,” Patti agrees as we both get up from the table.
Five minutes later, the table is set, the food is in the center, and we’re all sitting, ready to eat. But, before we do, we all hold hands to prepare to say Grace.
“Honey,” my mom says to my father, “will you do the honors tonight?”
He smiles, closes his eyes, and bows his head. So we follow suit. Once he’s thanked Our Heavenly Father for all of our blessings and good fortune, we’re able to start eating. I, however, want nothing more than to empty my stomach rather than fill it. Nausea builds as my stomach rolls. Bile creeps up my throat. But I force carrots and potatoes down to appear as normal as possible. No one here has secrets. Nope. Not one.
“Zo.” My mom’s voice catches my attention sometime later. “You’re just pushing your food around. Is everything okay?”
Crap. I’ve been caught. “Oh yeah,” I say as cheerily as possible. “Just a long day at work on my feet. Lots of patients. Too many cavities.” I smile, though lightly is all I can manage, to throw her off the scent.
After a moment, she relents. “Okay.” Then she takes a bite of roast. “Oh. Have you thought any more about getting a dog?”
“I thought it was a cat,” my dad chimes in.
“It was a cat,” Patti confirms. “Are you thinking about getting a dog now? You didn’t tell me that.”
“That’s because I never said I wanted to get a dog,” I immediately reply, but it comes out more harshly that I intended.
Patti isn’t pleased with my tone. “Seems like you’re not saying a lot of things,” she mumbles under her breath. But I caught it.
With wide eyes and a racing heart, I glare at her. What in the ever-loving hell is that about?
“What was that, sweetie?” my mom asks her.
Patti puts her fork in her mouth. Chews. Shakes her head with a too-sweet smile aimed at my mom. When she’s swallowed her food, she says, “Nothing. I think a dog would be great. Someone needs to keep our girl company.”
My dad laughs. “That’s a good point. That house must be lonely without a man there with you. Do you have any dates lined up?”
I gulp and flick my gaze to my dad, pushing my potatoes around on my plate. “No, Dad. None at all.”
“Honey, didn’t someone new start coming to church last week?” my mom asks him. “What’s his name? Darrel?” She turns her attention to me. “We’ll find out if he’s single for you. Don’t worry.”
“That’s a great idea,” Patti agrees, stabbing a carrot with her fork. “Is Darrel cute? Maybe he already has a dog.”
I drop my fork onto my plate with a loud clatter. “Stop!” I shout louder than I needed to. So I quiet my voice. “Sorry. But please. Stop. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” my mom prods. “You seem rather nervous today, and you’ve barely eaten a th—”
“Yes! Mom, I’m fine. Okay? I’m fine.” I stand up so fast that my chair topples over behind me. After a moment, I right it and tuck it under the table. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m gonna head home now. I’m just tired after a long day. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Zoeybell,” my dad calls after me, but I ignore it.
I shut the door behind me, thankful for the cool evening air. But the door opens and closes when I’m halfway down the driveway on the way to my car.
“What the hell was that?” Patti asks.
When I spin around, she’s pointing back at the house. Her face is scrunched, and she’s vibrating with frustration.
“Oh, I could say the same to you,” I spit back at her as quietly as I can while she’s still able to hear me. “What are you mad at? You’re the one who almost spilled our secret!”
“That’s the whole point,” she sneers, crossing her arms over her chest.
When I don’t do or say anything, she tosses her arms in the air and then marches over to her car. So I follow.
“You don’t get it.” She hits the button on her fob to unlock her door.
I stop in front of her. “No, I guess I don’t.”
“I just thought…” Taking a deep breath, she glances up at the sky. Then she releases the air and looks at me. “It’s been a while now. And this was the first dinner we’ve had with your family since…” She waves a finger between us. “So I thought…”
I blow out a breath, put my hands on my hips, and stare at the ground. She thought I’d already be ready to tell them that their daughter does have dates lined up, but they’re with a woman? Oh yeah. A couple of weeks is long enough for me to gather the strength to ruin my parents’ lives. Plenty of time.
Actually, the only thing it’s long enough for is for me to lose my dinner all over the road next to Patti’s car. What little I ate of it, anyway. Luckily, I miss her shoes, but it isn’t by much.
Immediately, her hands go to my hair to hold it back as I retch in the street. I think some already made it into my hair though. If it did, she doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, she rubs circles on my back.
“Goddammit. I’m sorry, Zed,” she says while I spit the rest of the vomit out. “I don’t even know what came over me. I had a hard day at work, and then, when you didn’t immediately tell them, I just…saw red.” She pauses her hand on my bac
k. “It wasn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
When I stand up, her hand falls off me and she lets my hair go. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Then my vision goes black as the world spins around me and I sway right into her arms.
“Whoa!” she says. “I got you.” She holds me until I’m able to see again. “Did you just get up too fast?” she asks when I’m standing on my own again.
I nod, rubbing my eyes “Yeah, I think so.”
“Well, you just lost the dinner you barely touched too.” She puts a hand on her hip. “You should probably eat something. What did you have for lunch?”
Squinting, I think back to lunch. Dr. Phelps ordered pizza for everyone, but I wasn’t very hungry when it came in. By the time I was ready to eat, I was busy with back-to-back-to-back patients and never got the chance. And I can’t even remember breakfast. I don’t want to tell her that though. So I just shrug.
Her eyes widen and then she blinks at me, huffing a breath out of her nose. Then she opens her car door. “Follow me,” she says before getting in, shutting the door, and starting her car.
As long as it’s away from my parents—and hopefully to food—I’ll follow her.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll follow this woman almost anywhere. Except, apparently, down the path that leads to telling my parents how we feel about each other.
***
Patti
This woman might be the death of me. If stress and worry aren’t the death of her first. God. She’s so stubborn because she’s so scared. And we were so close to telling Lyra at our first Thirsty Thursday night without Shiree—she’s on her honeymoon with Chaz. But Lyra has bigger issues of her own to worry about, so Zo clearly didn’t want to spill the beans.
Which I get. I understand not wanting to burden a friend while she has a lot going on. But for heaven’s sake. When will it be our turn? It’s been over a month now, and I’ve only accidentally told the barista at the coffee shop. All because my girlfriend still needs to keep us a secret. Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I want to be a secret. It feels dirty. Yet, if it’s the only way for me to be with her… I’ll take what I can get, I guess.
Not forever though. We can’t keep this from everyone we love forever. I won’t stand for that, and it’ll likely kill Zo in the long run—literally. So I need something from her. Just a little give in my favor. We don’t have to tell anyone, but I would like to go out with her. On a real, honest-to-god date.
Don’t get me wrong. I love nothing more than the alone time we spend together. It’s like heaven when we’re wrapped up in each other, bare skin to bare skin, tangled in blankets and bedsheets. Being out with my girl on my arm would be like heaven too though.
And she could at least use it as a means to tell her parents the truth in a roundabout way. That she’s seeing someone, going on dates, and starting a relationship. They’ll want to meet him, but together, we can come up with ways to get around that. I want her parents to know how happy she is. I want to see them be happy for her. Because, when we do tell them, they will have to see how ridiculous it’d be to be upset just because I’m not a man. Nothing else will have changed about the situation but that.
So I say, “Hey. Let’s go to the movies tonight,” as we lie in her bed, naked and satisfied, in the middle of the afternoon. I even roll onto my side to face her.
“Okay,” she agrees. Too easily. She tucks her hands under the side of her face. “What do you want to see?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I steal a kiss and tuck some fiery hair behind her ear. “I just want to go out with you.”
Her body goes rigid under my touch, but then she blinks and says, “Like a date?”
Slowly, I nod. I don’t want her to freak out, but yeah. Exactly like a damn date.
An unhurried smile spreads across her lips. “You want to take me on a date?”
I raise an unamused eyebrow. “Zed. It’s been how long now? Don’t you think you deserve to be taken out on a date?”
Her smile morphs into a smirk. “Well, yeah.” And then it disappears. “But—”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “We’re allowed to go out. Everyone knows we’re best friends. We used to go to the movies together all the time. It’s not unheard of, and no one will suspect anything, so stop worrying.”
She releases a deep breath. “Fine.” Then her smirk is back. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”
A grin breaks out over my face now. Until she nearly shoves me out of her bed.
“What the hell was that for?” I question, stumbling off the mattress and righting myself.
“If you’re going to take me out on a date, you’re going to do it properly.” She gets up off the bed and heads for the door. There, she pauses in the doorframe. “And you know my usual pre-date ritual. So you have to go so I can get ready before dinner with my family tonight.” Before she darts down the hall, she gives me a cheesy smile.
One that lands right in my heart and renders me speechless.
I quickly dress as she starts the water in the shower. As I pass the bathroom door, I briefly think about going in there and joining her, but she’s right. If we’re going to go on a date, we should do it the right way. So I grab my purse on the way out and head home.
Once I’m out of the shower and off the phone with Lyra—she’s having more Blake problems, and I might have accidentally admitted that I’m going on a date tonight—I text Zo. I want to know which movie she wants to see, even though I couldn’t care in the slightest. I’ll sit through whichever romantic comedy fright-fest movie or whatever she wants to see. As long as, in the dark of the theater, I can hold her hand and pretend we’re a normal couple.
She doesn’t message me back right away, but that’s okay. I imagine she’s painting her toenails in the middle of her bed like she usually does before dates. I wonder what color she thinks I’m worthy of. Though I’ll see soon enough.
~~~
Purple. She chose purple polish for her toes, which are looking super cute in her open-toe shoes. And that’s the first thing I say to her when I’m back at her house to pick her up for Friday dinner.
Her eyes widen as she smiles. Before she speaks, she tames her expression. “Someone once told me that, if my date was smart, they’d notice purple.”
My heart thuds in my chest. She remembers that conversation too.
“What I didn’t say that day,” I tell her, offering her my arm, which she hesitantly accepts, “is that I told you to go with purple because it’s the best color on you. You look great in every shade, but purple…” I whistle a high-to-low tone.
As we walk to my car, she visibly melts a little, apparently pleased with my compliment. I’m glad. She deserves to be complimented and praised. She’s beautiful inside and out—even when she insists on hiding us. Hiding me.
When we get to the passenger’s side of my car, I open the door. She gets in, and I close it before walking around to the driver’s side. As I start the car, she turns her body to face me.
“My favorite color on you is light blue,” she informs me. “I think it brings out the brown of your eyes.”
“Duly noted.” I wink at her and drive us to her parents’ house.
The whole way there, she holds my hand. Even as I park my car on the curb. When we’ve both unbuckled our seat belts and it’s time to get out of the car, she takes a deep breath and squeezes my fingers. So I don’t move. I wait for whatever she has to say.
“I’m sorry I don’t want to tell them yet,” she says, looking at our entangled fingers. “But I almost told Lyra on the phone earlier.”
I swallow hard. She did? What did she say? How did that even come up? And why wasn’t that the first thing she said when I picked her up? But I don’t get to ask any of those questions before she keeps going.
“She said that you didn’t-but-did say you were going on a date tonight. And I’d already mentioned that I was painting my toenails, so she knew what I was up to ton
ight.” She faces me now by turning her head and looking me in the eyes. “So I flat-out told her that I am going on a date tonight.” Then she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and bites it. “But I told her that I wouldn’t tell her anything else about it and blamed that on her having Blake drama.”
All I can do is stare at her. And try to keep my breathing even. I have no words. None at all. She misinterprets my speechlessness though.
“I’m sorry. I should have told her, but you weren’t there and I wasn’t ready. It came out of nowhere. But I thought you’d be happy that I almost—”
“I am,” I say, interrupting her. “I am. So”—my voice cracks, so I try again—“so happy.”
It’s a step in the right direction. She didn’t lie about me. She didn’t tell the whole story, but she didn’t deny anything. Which is most definitely a step in the right direction. And I’m so happy that I could cry. But I clear my throat and tighten my grip on her fingers. Then I let her hand go and reach forward to hug her. I won’t dare kiss her here, though the fear that I’m about to do that flashes on her face before I wrap my one arm around her. I can hug her though, so I do. Tight. The only way I can show my love for her and her impressive forward progression right now.
“Thank you,” I whisper in her ear.
She tightens her hold on me to tell me she heard me. Then she springs away from me when someone knocks on the window. When my eyes pop open, I see her dad standing outside my car.
“Everything okay?” he asks loudly to be heard through the window.
“Yeah!” she squeaks out as she opens her door, her voice too high-pitched to be considered normal. “I was just giving Patti a hug because she”—she pauses when she steps out of my car, but I think it’s more of a delay tactic—“drove me here. It was nice of her to pick me up.” Once she’s done, she hugs her dad too.
He laughs lightly and wraps his arm around his daughter as I get out of the car. “It definitely was nice of her,” he says before winking at me over the top of my car.
