Page 74

Story: Silver Lining

“Say it, Dad. Don’t be a bloody chicken. Not in this house.”

I cringed. Because he was right, and I was…

A chicken.

“You need to give me another red dot,” I said to Jasmine, who triumphantly held one up, a knowing grin on her face.

“You’re bad, Granddad. Really bad.”

“I know. I’ll have to sit on the naughty step in a minute.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Dad.” My son grinned.

Kids. I took it all back.

“I like women,” I said. Okay. Deep breath. “I also like…Dylan.”

“So, you’re bi. Easy.”

“Not that easy.” I coughed.

“So you’re what?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

They laughed. Right there in my face.

“That’s okay, Dad. As long as you can say it out loud.”

“Say what?” God, I was being stubborn. I needed all the red dots.

“That you’ve fallen in love and you’re getting some and you’re loving it.”

“Am I?”

I was old. I felt a million years old as the two of them laughed.

“You’re a little bit queer, and you’re happy. That’s all we needed to know, Stew. Now, are you having another tea? Would you like to finish Jasmine’s cold eggs? She’s not eaten a thing.”

“I’m…taking Dylan down the pub. Lunch.”

“I see.”

“Dylan doesn’t drink either.”

“Former alcoholic?”

I gave Gray a stare. Not things the kids needed to hear. This whole breakfast conversation was wildly inappropriate.

“The children know you don’t drink. They also know why because this is our family and we’re honest. We talk about things. I never want the kids to grow up realising there were secrets all around us. That is not how we live.”

When had my son become this wise? When had he outgrown that childish stubbornness and become this kind, wonderful man?

“I agree,” I said quietly.

“Why does Dylan not drink?”

“Story for another time, when he can choose to divulge that himself.”