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“Yes?” No point trying to squirm out of this one. “Dylan. I told you about him.”

“You made bloody jokes about him! ”

“If I remember rightly, you made the jokes. Gray threatened to sing.” I wasn’t going to let him railroad me. I’d done nothing wrong.

“But I thought you were kidding! Dad! You’re straight!”

My son. The idiot. I took it all back.

“How do you know?” I asked, trying to stay calm. “You can’t help who you fall in love with. Pot? Kettle? Black?”

Irrational, I knew, but there was a little bit of anger. A smidgen of shame. And yes. Perhaps not a hundred per cent honesty.

“Dad.” His head dropped into his hands, and he made a frustrated sound towards the floor.

“Yes,” I said calmly.

“You can’t do this. Not now.”

“What are you on about?” I reached out and squeezed his arm.

My boy. My beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful boy. My son.

“You’ve never done this. Ever. I leave you alone for a couple of months, and you go all…unhinged and start hooking up with blokes?”

Oh God. Another thing I hadn’t even thought of .

“I have to admit that I haven’t really thought this through, Reuben.” I had to look around to ensure the kids were out of earshot.

“They’re upstairs,” Gray said. “Rediscovering their toys and hopefully not destroying anything.” He was always the sensible one and still understanding of the situation. “Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

I nodded. Perhaps this was what we needed. A chance for my son to yell at me, and for me to see if I could make him understand.

“Reuben, this just happened. I didn’t set out to meet someone. I didn’t make myself a profile on some dating app and go all out trying to get myself… What do you call it? Lain?”

“Laid, Dad.” He looked tired.

“Laid. That wasn’t my intention.”

He made another frustrated sound. Then he looked at me. Really looked at me.

“Dad, you like women. You like Black women especially, with big lips and big hips. That’s what you always say. You liked my mum. A lot. ”

“I adored your mum. She was the most beautiful girl in the world. Stunning.”

“And now you expect me to believe you’re suddenly into scrawny, middle-aged white men? He’s like…old, Dad. And balding!”

Was he? I hadn’t noticed. Didn’t care.

“He’s also got a warm heart. He’s got three children, and he makes me laugh. Divorced. He’s a lawyer.”

“So he’s rich.”

“He lives next door, Reubs. And he’s not rich. He’s a very normal man, and one I incidentally found myself becoming friends with. And then…”

“One thing led to another? It doesn’t work that way. You expect me to believe that you just woke up and put a man in your bed?”

Now he was shouting again. And I kind of started to understand this. Fear. So much fear. Fear of change. Fear of things not being the same anymore. Maybe even fear that he was losing me.

For the record, he wasn’t. Never.

“Would I ever do anything to hurt you?” I asked softly .

“No,” he answered. Good. Conviction. I liked it.

“You have your family. And I have you, and that is enough, Reuben. More than enough. But I have Dylan now, and this might be the biggest mistake of my life, or perhaps not, and it’s all new and fragile and strange and beautiful, and I’m not going to force you to have a relationship with him.

I’m not even going to make you talk to him if you don’t want to.

But he’s special. He makes me happy. And right now, it’s something in my life that is going really well. I hope it will stay that way.”

“Dad. You’re nuts.”

“Maybe?” At least he was doing that thing he did, trying not to smile. He was angry at me. I really didn’t blame him.

“I’m not calling him Daddy, if that’s what you think,” he huffed out, a small glimmer at the corner of his eye.

“Who you calling Daddy, my man?” Gray waltzed back in, talking in some put-on American accent.

“Dad’s new squeeze. Not doing that.”

“Do you call him Daddy, Stewart?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

“No. I don’t. He’s called Dylan. ”

“And when are we meeting Dylan?” Gray asked.

Reuben let out a deep sigh.

“Can we talk about something else?” I suggested. “Like, what are you doing home early and why didn’t you tell me?”

“Kids wanted to surprise you. You sounded down, and well…” That was the son I knew and loved.

All that warmth. Compassion. Kindness. “But actually, we rang you like fifteen times this morning, to get you to come pick us up at the airport. We had to get an Uber, and the driver got all crazy and took pictures of us in the back. You know what it’s like. You promised to pick us up.”

My son wasn’t a child anymore, but sometimes, he made me wonder.

“Also,” Gray picked up, walking back over to the table. “We had a leak on set, and the whole production has ground to a halt while they rebuild the damaged parts, and yeah. We thought we’d come home for a bit. Find some normality.”

“Turns out there is zero normality here,” Reuben whined. “And where are the cats? ”

“Somewhere?” I offered weakly. “I do feed them. They’re usually lounging in the front room, and I cleaned out the litter box yesterday. They are around.”

“Sure.”

“I’ve been keeping up. And I’ve been doing some driving and helping Dylan.”

“The lawyer next door.”

“Yes.”

“What do you know about the law, Dad?”

“Nothing. But I’m really good at making tea.”

At least they laughed.

“I’m okay,” I said softly. “I’m happy. Can’t I at least have that?”

“You’re okay,” Gray said, planting a cup of tea in my hand as if I’d asked for one when I hadn’t. But we were family, and this was what family did.

“And he has kids,” my son stated.

“Three. Young ones.”

“So now I have to share my inheritance with a bunch of brats. ”

“Reuben.” I sighed, and he just laughed. “What inheritance? My collection of fine socks and teacups?”

“Dad, it’s fine. Just a bit of a shock. I need to let this one settle. My God, my dad is gay. Who would have thought?”

“Well, Mabel wasn’t too shocked,” I pointed out.

“You told Mabel?” He actually looked frightened now. “And they were fine with all this? When the hell did you see Mabel?”

“Well…” I smiled. “I can tell you some stories.”

So, I did.