Page 27 of Silver Lining (London Love #6)

“ Y ou didn’t sleep here,” my son commented after I’d traipsed up the stairs and walked through the door, thinking I was getting away with murder.

Obviously, I wasn’t.

“Walk of shame,” Gray commented, standing by the stove in his apron. Ehhr. My apron. “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” I muttered, trying to shoot evil glances at them both, out of sight of the children, who were on the floor, their iPads balanced against the kitchen table legs.

Totally normal. I didn’t even question this slip in table manners, their breakfast plates still untouched on the table.

“Jasmine, please sit up and eat.”

“I don’t like eggs.”

“You love eggs. I scrambled them. No black bits.”

“I only like American eggs.”

“Eggs are the same.”

“The American ones were organic.”

Gray rolled his eyes. I did too.

“Dad, don’t agree with her. It’s good food, and she’s being silly.”

“I don’t like eggs either,” said Jay. He didn’t even look up.

“Good morning, children,” I tried, gratefully accepting the tea Gray handed me. I’d taught him well. His mother had raised him even better, as he just snorted .

“You didn’t sleep in your bed,” Jasmine accused, not even looking up at me. “We brought you tea down, and you weren’t there.”

“Apologies.” I wasn’t ready to start teaching my grandchildren life lessons. Not yet.

“I told you Granddad was having a sleepover with Dylan.”

“Dylan is a stranger,” Jasmine pointed out. “And that’s bad.”

“What’s bad?” My son combed his fingers through his hair. I did too. I loved his hair. So soft.

“I slept over.” I had no better explanation to give. “He’s my friend. We were having a…playdate.”

“Can’t believe you’re being a dirty stop-out,” said Gray.

“Your choice of words!” My son sighed. “Think of the children! You’re their dad, Gray! Now you, Dad. You should…know better.”

I nodded too. I agreed. I was an absolute idiot. And my son was still not happy with me.

“I…” I st arted.

“You can’t just move in with someone, like, after a few weeks. It doesn’t work like that.”

I laughed. Gray did too, giving me a wink.

“Worked out well for me, didn’t it? I kind of moved in…on day one.”

“We were just…” My son sighed.

“What were you, Reuben? Roommates?”

I was teasing, but yeah. He was frustrated as anything, stomping upstairs without a word.

“Don’t tease him,” Gray said, sitting down opposite me. “He’s just got his knickers in a twist.”

“And if you start quoting song lyrics, I will…” Threats never worked with Gray.

“The hot neighbour next door…” he sang quietly as I picked up a coaster off the table and threw it at him.

“Granddad!” Jay scolded from the floor. “Behaviour!”

“Sorry.”

“I’m going to deduct one point from your behaviour chart. You don’t throw things on the floor. And you learn to control your emotions. ”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

“Give Granddad a red dot on the board, Jay.”

“I’m giving him two,” my grandson said, picking up magnets from the jar on the side, then proudly marking me down. Two red dots.

Goddammit. My previously perfect track record. Two down.

“And one blue one because Granddad serviced Dadda’s car, and it looks lovely.”

Thank you, Gray.

“He should have another red one for not sleeping in his own bed,” Jasmine piped up.

What was this? Mutiny?

“I’m a grown-up,” I said defiantly.

“Rules are rules,” said Gray, winking. Now I wanted to throw another coaster at him.

“So it’s going well?”

“Well…” What kind of question was that? I wasn’t going to sit here and talk about my private life .

“You know you can always ask,” he continued, an amused smile on his face. “I have supplies of every kind, should you need to—”

“No, thank you.” Yes. I was embarrassed. Trying to sink through the floor as Gray just smiled.

Cheeky.

“How long have you known?” he asked.

What was it with people and all these direct questions? Had they no shame?

“Known what?” I asked, brushing invisible crumbs off my tie.

“That you have a thing for hot guys.”

“Gray.” I sighed.

“Honest question, Stew.”

“I don’t know?” I shrieked, making Jasmine sit up and wag her finger at me.

“Indoor voice, Granddad.”

“Perhaps we should have this conversation somewhere else?” I suggested, motioning to the floor, where I was being stared at by four small eyes .

“Nothing they don’t understand,” he said.

I took it back. None of us here were any kind of father of the year.

“It’s nothing… I have…”

Fuck , as Dylan would have said, or at least muttered it under his breath, just the way I did now. I was no better than the grandchildren, picking up bad habits. New words.

Double fuck. I still couldn’t talk about it, even in crude words, and if I was truly honest with myself, a pint would have been good. Cold. Soothing.

“Reuben is right on that part,” Gray said. “This didn’t happen overnight.”

“No, it didn’t,” I managed to croak out, loosening the tie that suddenly felt awfully tight around my neck.

“So what happened?” Reuben. Walking back in like he’d been eavesdropping behind the door. He sat down next to me, picked up his now cold tea, took a sip and grimaced.

“Can we get some fresh brews on, babe?”

“Do I look like your personal chef?” Gray sat back, crossing his arms. “You’ve been spoilt for the past few months. Here in this house, we make our own tea. ”

“Bah,” my son said.

Bah, indeed. Okay.

“Stewart?” Gray nudged. And here I was, pushed in a corner, everyone’s eyes on me.

“I can’t explain it,” I said, hoping I sounded calm. “I’ve never been able to…you know. Connect with people. Not in that way.”

Good choice of words. The kids were back on their iPads, obviously nothing juicy to hear here.

Or not.

“Granddad, why are you not married?”

Oh, fuck my life.

“Because nobody wanted to marry me.” I’d toed that line for years, and now my son’s head was dead against the tabletop as he groaned.

“Dad, you need to start talking. It’s not good for you to be like this. Come on. I kept trying to get you to date, and you refused everyone. Then suddenly you’re having playdates with Dylan. There’s more to this, and I need to know before I start to worry about your sanity.”

“You already worry about his sanity, babe. ”

I had no idea how I had survived living with these people for so long.

“I’m perfectly sane. Just…I never really…”

This was hard. Like a massive test I had no idea how to pass.

“What is this? An exam? I don’t really have any answers.”

Such a lame excuse. I was already ashamed of my choice of words. So were the boys, once again rolling their eyes. Gray leant back on the chair, recrossing his arms. Reuben was right. Those balloon muscles were ridiculous.

“Reubs sat through half a mock exam last night. Fifteen questions, straight up,” he said, staring at me, not missing a beat. “He got them all right and didn’t once stutter out any of his excuses about it being too much.”

“I can’t concentrate,” my son said flatly.

“I know you can’t. And you have to sit a thirty-question exam in two weeks. You’ve got this. We’re just building up to it.”

“What has this got to do with Dad being…like…queer? ”

“Queer?” I said.

“Yes, Stewart. In the old days, it was seen as a slur, but it’s something the community has claimed back. It’s a good umbrella term. Covers the spectrum.”

“Spectrum,” I repeated.

“You know all this.” My son rolled his eyes. “How many times did you and I have this conversation? Like, hundreds of times over the years. I’m queer. I’m actually pansexual, but who the fuck cares? I’m married to the idiot across the table.”

“Daddy, you said a bad word.”

“I get to put the red dot on!”

Now the kids were fighting over the jar of magnets. We’d obviously created monsters here.

“I like… I’m…”

“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.”

“Fair enough.”

And here was tea.

I loved my family. Wildly so.

“I love you. All of you.” I meant that. Every word. “And now there’s someone else too. Doesn’t mean anything is going to change. I live here. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Reubs here has already called the builder. He’s having the downstairs changed into a games room. Pool table and all that.”

I laughed, because yeah. He was making it all up.

“It’s fine, Dad,” he said. My son. “It’s fine. And we love you too.”

“Good.”

“Also, we’ve had a change of plan. Kids and Reubs are staying put. I’m flying back on Sunday. On my own. Bloody traitors, but it makes sense. Kids can get back to school on day one of the new term, and Reuben has in-person tutoring every day next week. That way, he’ll ace the exam. It’ll be fine. ”

“I assume you’ll need me to do the school runs,” I said. I would gladly do that. I needed it. Normality. Routine. The kids’ hands in mine.

“Would that be okay for you?”

“After-school stuff?”

“Gray is making a schedule. Also, Jay has karate on Mondays now, right after Jasmine’s ballet, so it’ll be a bit of a squeeze. We might have to rope Agnes in.”

“We can do that.” I nodded. “Want me to ring her?”

“She likes you.”

“Everyone likes me,” I huffed.

“Especially Dylan.”

“Dylan?” Jasmine questioned, coming up and climbing onto my lap.

“Yes?”

“So he’s not a stranger?”

“No. He’s my boyfriend,” I said, like it was normal, then almost choked myself on my tea .

“You have a boyfriend? That’s cool! I don’t have a boyfriend. I asked Akeem in my class to be my boyfriend, but he said he hates girls.”

“That’s not very nice,” said Gray, swallowing down laughter.

“I’d rather have another boyfriend. I like Harry Styles.”

“Don’t we all?” my son said. “I want to be Harry Styles’s boyfriend.”

This family. I shook my head. Then I hugged my granddaughter and watched Gray do a very bad impersonation of someone called Harry Styles.

Madness. But it was my madness, and I kind of…loved it.