The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,97
grumbled, but there was no longer such a harsh edge to his voice, and that gave her hope she could at least be on speaking terms with her only sibling again.
“So do I,” she said softly.
He shot her a dirty look. “You really fucked up.”
Normally, she would’ve pointed out that she’d already admitted that and apologized. But she deserved his anger. “I know.”
He dropped his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “If it makes you feel any better, I got the worst of it. I mean, think about it. You’ll be okay. You can finish school and still go off to college and play water polo or whatever. It’s Oliver who will have to help support a kid for the next eighteen years.”
“That’s true,” he muttered. “He fucked up, too.”
“Does that make you happy?”
He scratched his head. “Nothing about this makes me happy. So when are you going to tell him?”
“If I don’t say something soon, he’ll figure it out for himself.”
“He’s already suspicious or he wouldn’t have texted me.”
“I’ll have to call him.”
Caden, head bowed as though he was still thinking it all over, sat there for several seconds before looking up again. “So...are you and Sierra getting together now or what?”
Oh, God. Were they going to tackle that topic, too? He must’ve figured out that he’d been right before, when he’d approached her about Sierra liking girls. “How’d you guess that might be a possibility?”
“Before you got here, she was giving me every reason there could be for why I should understand and cut you some slack. You were going through a hard time. Everyone reacts to circumstances in a different way. Yada, yada.”
“So?”
“She loves you,” he said simply. “That’s obvious in the way she talks about you, how quickly she comes to your defense. The question is—do you love her back?”
“I don’t know that I’m gay, Caden. But I could be. Would it be so terrible if I am?”
He stood. “Of course not. I can see why you’d be attracted to Sierra. Even I can tell she’s pretty cool.”
Taylor smiled at his unexpected response, especially because he didn’t add anything derogatory like, “For a lesbian.”
“Thanks.”
“Everybody’s waiting for me. I’ve got to go.”
She followed him to the door. “I’m glad you came over.”
“So am I.”
“Caden?” she said as he stepped out.
He turned back.
“You’re a good brother.”
“Not good enough to let you ride shotgun for the rest of the summer,” he joked. “Now you owe me that.”
She leaned against the door she was holding. “You’d make a pregnant girl sit in the backseat?”
“You’re not even showing yet!”
“Fine,” she said with a laugh. “Take it.”
* * *
Autumn wasn’t sure whether to mention to her mother what Taylor had revealed on Tuesday. She didn’t believe Mary would think any less of Taylor, and she wanted to discuss what she’d learned—and how she should react to it—with someone she could trust to have Taylor’s best interest at heart. But she caught herself every time she was about to bring it up.
Ordinarily, she would’ve turned to Nick. That she couldn’t made her miss him more than she had in a long time. Mary loved Taylor, too. Autumn knew that. But sexuality was such a private matter. It didn’t feel right to say anything to anyone other than Taylor’s father.
In the end, she decided to leave whether or not Mary found out up to Taylor. If Taylor got together with Sierra and they made it obvious around town, it was possible Mary would hear about them. Or Caden would hear and say something. But Autumn decided to take that risk in favor of minding her own business and being a trustworthy confidante to her daughter.
The only downside to keeping her mouth shut? If Taylor was gay, Autumn would have to come to grips with it on her own.
She felt guilty even thinking that way, as if she now had something else to mourn. Love was love. She honestly believed it. But it wasn’t easy to accept that her daughter would at some point be reviled or possibly harmed by narrow-minded bigots.
Her only escape from worrying about Taylor was the upcoming fundraiser. She even used that as an excuse not to see Quinn. Her children still needed her; she had to put them first.
She was sitting up in bed Friday night with her laptop, going over the many lists she’d made of everything that had to be done in time for the event tomorrow night, checking and double-checking that she hadn’t missed anything, when