Page 96 of The Ampersand Effect

Feeling irrationally defensive, Grier bristled before retorting, “What do you want from me? To tell you it was basically fulfilling a fantasy—spending all weekend in bed with a sex goddess? To say I forgot to eat because I was so thoroughly fucked that sustenance lost all meaning? That I literally could’ve died from the wholeness of satisfaction I had after every orgasm, but somehow still found the want for more each and every time? To tell you she’s so fucking skilled with her tongue, it’s like she’s a… a—acliterati?”

She was breathing hard, and when she looked down, she realized she’d shredded the napkin on her lap during her irritated monologue. She’d shared more than she intended. She didn’t understand how she lost her composure—it was something in the suggestive undercurrent of their comments. Grier knew what they were implying, but she wasn’t ready to evaluate that part of her emotional repertoire yet. It was far too early. And she wasn’t a U-Haul lesbian. She certainly wasn’t going to become one now.

“Grier, honey. We didn’t mean to upset you. You just seemed so… reverent when you described your weekend with Tobin. It’s so uncharacteristic for you.” Grier watched as Maren glanced at Alix for support. “We’ve never seen you like this with a woman before. Wearehappy for you—we’re just wrapping our heads around it. Much like you seem to be.”

Grier took a deep breath. Her friends were right. Her feelings were growing, no matter how hesitant she was to name them. And shewasstill trying to wrap her head around it all. She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely a different experience. You’re right. I’m sorry I got defensive.”

Alix reached for the straw from their water and began chewing on it.

“Good, I’m glad we got that out of our systems.But—can we go back to the part about her being acliterati? Because I’m gonna need way—Way!—more information on that!”

Grier choked on a giggle and tossed the remnants of her shredded napkin at Alix. It broke apart midair, snowing down around them as they all dissolved into laughter.

“She named the owl?” Grier whispered to Grant, perking an eyebrow as they conversed in the kitchen over steaming mugs of coffee the next morning.

“Owlivia,” Grant groaned into his mug, squinting as if bracing for the inevitable. “We’re never going to be able to release it now.”

“Is it even legal to have a pet owl?” Grier asked, half-serious. “Aren’t there, like, laws or wildlife groups that frown on that sort of thing?” She watched Grant mull over the futility of applying rational arguments to his precocious preteen daughter.

Delta walked into the kitchen—presumably in search of human interaction, which she rarely sought now that she had a veritable backyard animal shelter and could readily disengage from people at will. Lake padded in after her.

Grant just shrugged. It was the most valid response.

“I know you guys are talking about me,” Delta declared, leaning on her forearms against the kitchen counter, her voice full of mock suspicion.

“Your dad was just telling me the owl has been cleverly named,” Grier said, engaging her niece.

“Yes—Owlivia, after Olivia Benson,” Delta replied, looking pleased with herself.

Grier smirked. Delta could’ve picked a worse role model. “Well, I like it. How is Ms. Owlivia doing? Do you think she’ll be ready to be released in a few weeks?” Grier figured she might as well help Grant gauge exactly how difficult this was going to be.

“She stopped eating worms. No matter how much I masticate them for her, she won’t eat them anymore. Just bugs with exoskeletons.”

Grant choked on the coffee he was sipping and looked at his daughter, horrified.

Delta glared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“You’reeatingworms for the owl?” Grant’s color was changing. Grier could see he was struggling not to gag, which only made it harder to stifle her own laughter.

“Gross, Dad. No! I’m crushing them—like her mother would’ve done in the wild. With rocks and sticks. You’re so dense sometimes!” With that, she grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and walked out into the backyard. Lake looked torn between her and Grant, but pledged her allegiance to the girl and trotted after her.

Grant dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

“I hate to state the obvious, but you are going to havesomuch fun when she’s a teenager,” Grier chuckled.

“Ha, if you think I’m going through that alone, you’ve got another thing coming,Auntie!” He pinged his mug to hers in a forced salute.

“Speaking ofalone—we haven’t had a chance to talk since your date with Haleigh on Wednesday.” Grier had volunteered to stay home with Delta, giving Grant the opportunity to finally bring his secret relationship out into the open. She hoped it had gone well— she had high hopes for him and Haleigh. But ultimately, she was just grateful he was beginning to entertain the idea of dating again.

She looked at her brother, trying to read his body language for any clues that she shouldn’t press. He was watching her patiently.

“How was it? Did she enjoy being wined and dined?”

Grant’s eyes brightened as he recalled his date. “It was incredible.Shewas incredible.Isincredible! It felt so good to pick her up and take her out instead of sneaking takeout into her house or the hospital.”

She managed to withhold the snort trying to escape the back of her throat—only because she recognized the posture of genuine relief in her brother’s body. Her phone buzzed in thethigh pocket of her yoga shorts—one of her preferred weekend wardrobe staples, especially when paired with a slouchy T-shirt or oversized sweatshirt. She reached for it but stopped herself, knowing she might not get another opportunity to talk openly with Grant while Delta was occupied.

She rolled her eyes, making sure he saw her. “That was entirely your choice, my friend. You didn’thaveto hide your illicit affair from me. I adore Haleigh. You have all my support.”