Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I winced, already regretting the decision to share. But also hoping to get it over with so it wouldn’t be hanging over my head. “Actually, my date was with a man.”
I heard Keisha whistle as I took in my Aunt Sherry’s stunned expression. “Say what?”
“I’d been with a couple of guys back in the day. You already know that,” I said, waving my hand dismissively, hoping this didn’t turn into a thing. I could see Jeff shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’d been witness to plenty of family discussions by now, but I supposed not quite like this.
“It’s been so long, I’d forgotten,” Mom said in a near whisper. “I thought maybe it was a phase.”
Keisha snorted. “It’s really not a phase if you’re actively hooking up with dudes.”
Good God. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and I couldn’t even look at Mom, let alone Aunt Sherry. It made me feel like a teenager all over again. Keisha’s crude response didn’t exactly surprise me, and she normally always had my back. Though she was sure to get on my case later about not telling her or seeking her advice. The truth was, I hadn’t really needed it.
“Are you saying you’re gay?” Aunt Sherry asked with raised eyebrows, and I noticed how Jeff’s face had turned a bright tomato red like he wanted the floor to open and swallow him.
I squared my shoulders. Time to act my age and help my family understand. “I’m bisexual. I’ve dated both men and women, but when I met Carmen, it was all over. I knew she was the person I wanted to spend my life with. It doesn’t mean I’m less bisexual just because I was married to a woman. It’s part of my identity. I was monogamous and devoted to Carmen, who just so happened to be a woman.”
“I won’t say I completely understand,” Aunt Sherry replied, “but I will always support you.”
Keisha smiled, and so did Jeff, which made me breathe out in relief. Mom’s eyes softened, and she reached for my hand to briefly squeeze my fingers. “So this gentleman wasn’t up to your standards?”
I winced, remembering the awkwardness of the coffee date. “He seemed…self-absorbed.”
“So it was a perfect match!” Keisha declared, and I pretended to throw my napkin at her. She always thought I was too quiet and introspective, even when Carmen was alive, whereas Keisha could be outspoken and brash, which was why we fought like cats and dogs as kids.
They went on to discuss how Keisha was doing at her job in medical sales—she always kicked ass—as well as her and Jeff’s recent beach trip to Puerto Rico with his two adult children, whom Keisha had grown close to as well.
“Did you at least use sunscreen?” Mom asked Jeff teasingly, and we all laughed because he’d admitted in the past how easily he burned. Apparently, it had also been an inside joke between my parents because my dad would get red in the face if they spent any amount of time in the sun. My skin sometimes got blotchy too from being outdoors too long, so I felt like I had something in common with my father, some little connection that soothed that twinge in my chest every time I saw an old photo or heard a story and wished I’d known him.
After Carmen died, Mom was a constant comfort, promising I’d get through it despite the immense heartbreak. She’d always said my father was the love of her life, to the dismay of her family, who’d always had the worry about the escalating racial tensions back in their day and had been witness to the Hough riots. And don’t even get me started on Dad’s closed-minded family in rural Ohio.
But Mom had been modern for her time and even hyphenated her name when they married. She carried on the tradition with my sister and me, and though I was proud of the Davis part of my name, I mostly went by Worthy because of my grandfather’s business. Mom had never even dated anyone else, at least not that I knew of. But I’d always wished she’d find a bit of happiness again—not that a relationship defined you.
Mom was a force to be reckoned with. I’d married someone similar in Carmen, and had it been me who’d gone early, I’d want the same for my wife. We’d discussed it in our more tender moments, and I knew she’d encourage me to date again, even though I hadn’t had much of a desire to seek anyone else out since the date gone astray. Maybe because it reminded me just how difficult it could be to find someone you connected with. I’d probably try again, but for now, I’d stopped opening the app.
When my phone buzzed with a text from Delaney, I grinned at the message.