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them this week and I’m going to talk to my dad privately after.

My mom promised she won’

t say anything to him. I’ll tell my

brother after that. He’s busy, so it’s more just trying to figure

out a good time for him in between all the meetings and other

stuff he has going on. I want to take small steps. This is all

pretty new.”

I can’t say why that translates to me as doubts and

fears that Steph will lose her courage or get talked out of it.

That maybe she’ll tell them in the end that she was wrong.

That it was just a phase. Or that maybe her dad won’t take

things like her mom did and will threaten to disinherit her or

something. I shouldn’t think things like that, but all my

insecurities bubble over.

“Are you sure?”

Steph’s face goes blank. “Am I sure about what?” Her

face changes, her eyes losing some of their spark, the openness

and softness fading away to be replaced with something

harder. Some of her own doubt maybe.

“You’re really going to do this? We never really talked

about it. We should have, but I guess I didn’t want to rush you.

We’re still new. I didn’t want to make demands. I didn’t want

to put labels on it. That scares people off.”

“It doesn’t scare me off.” Steph crosses her arms.

I focus on something external to try and get out of my

own head. I focus on the steam curling up from the mugs, the

slight hum and hiss of the kettle as it cools, the intense, dark

gold sunlight that cuts through the open window and slants

across the counter and floor. It’s the last light of the day, as the

sun is starting to set.