Page 89 of Hotshot

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I stood in the foyer, surrounding by faded family photos, unsure how to answer that question. I opened my mouth, hoping something clever would come out, but that fucking lump expanded.

“I…”

Grams cocked her head curiously, her gaze softening as she reached for my hand. “Come in, love.”

I followed her into the living room, unsurprised by the flash of déjà vu of teenage me standing in front of her fireplace, lost and shaken, reeling from my mom’s sudden spiral into darkness. I’d never felt more alone in my life, and this tiny gruff woman had seemed like the least likely safe space ever. I’d been wrong. She’d hugged me as if she’d known me all my life, not just an unknown kid she’d sent birthday and holiday cards to over the years.

She looked me up and down now and opened her arms wide.

I’d grown a few inches taller since high school, but I bent low and let her hug me. Maybe my eyes leaked a bit…so what? I was fucking wrecked, and I couldn’t think straight. Nothing added up. Math failed me, words failed me. I was a walking bundle of emotions I couldn’t compute. It was easier to lean on Grams.

She didn’t fuss or ask uncomfortable questions that night.

She waited till morning.

I showered and got dressed for a day at camp, hoping to sneak out of the house without disturbing Grams, but she was up and serving coffee.

“Good morning,” I mumbled. “I’m going to head to the rink and get some reps in. I’ll grab a latte in town.”

Grams pointed at the old wooden kitchen table. “Sit.”

I obeyed. “Okay…one cup.”

She handed me a mug and sat across from me. “It’s okay, you know.”

“What is?”

“To be sad.”

I sipped my coffee. “I’m fine.”

“Tell me about him.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “Huh?”

“You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed in the morning, are you? Did you really think I didn’t know about you and the cowboy?”

I squinted, burying my nose in my mug in temporary avoidance. “Hank?”

Grams nodded. “Yeah, him. He’s cuckoo about you. I knew it the first day he came to see me at the bakery. He smiled when he said your name. It was cute. At first, I felt bad for him. I thought, ‘That man is barking up the wrong tree. Too bad, ’cause he’s handsome as all get out.’ But after a while, I noticed it wasn’t so one-sided.”

“Oh.” Yeah, I’d lost command of the alphabet.

“Are you gay or the other one…” She tapped her fingers on the table. “The one where you like both.”

“Bi. Yes.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t know if you need to hear it, but I love you no matter what.”

“Thanks, Grams.”

“I know I’m being nosy now, but I don’t see the problem. You like him, he likes you…what else is there? Hockey?” She waited a beat for me to respond. When I didn’t, she continued. “Does anyone care about who’sschtuppingwho anymore?”

I snorted my coffee. “Jesus, Grams.”

She pursed her lips primly. “As long as you’re happy and no one gets hurt, why does it matter?”