cartoons at his insistence. They played quietly in the background even though Harley and I weren’t watching them.
“When?”
“Next weekend. It’s Reagan’s twelfth birthday. Van’s throwing a dinner. Just family.”
“Are Mom and Dad going to be there?”
Harley pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “Probably. She didn’t say, but I assume so.”
Our parents had blamed Harley for Edison leaving school. The fact he worked at a gay nightclub was another point of contention and something they hadn’t been pleased about. They’d been vocal and rude, throwing jabs where they could—mostly at Harley.
“Okay.” I rolled the idea of dinner around in my head, unsure why Harley was making a big deal out of it. We knew family gatherings would happen. This one just happened to be the first that had come up since we’d started this thing between us.
“You’re not worried?” Harley asked, stroking his fingers absentmindedly through Edison’s hair.
“No. We can play this off. It’s not a big deal.”
“Vanya knows I haven’t been staying at the house. She knows something is up with me, but she just hasn’t put her finger on it yet. I’ve been avoiding her.”
“That’s half the problem. You’re making yourself look guilty of something.”
“No, the problem is, she can see right through me. I’m afraid if she has all three of us under the same roof, she’ll know.”
I’d seen Vanya and our parents a few times over the past few weeks. Edison had visited his cousins once but had avoided his grandparents, claiming he wasn’t chasing them for attention they didn’t want to give. He’d also skipped his monthly dinners with his mother twice, which hadn’t gone over well and had caused a shitstorm between Harley and Shianne I’d known enough to stay out of.
But Harley had avoided everyone, including his other half, his womb mate who he was closer to than he let on sometimes. That in itself had probably pinged Vanya’s radar if nothing else. Vanya kept tabs on Harley, making sure his and Edison’s relationship remained kosher, and overall, ensuring her wild brother didn’t fly off the deep end more than he already had.
“We can’t avoid her forever. We talked about this. Vanya might figure it out. It’s a risk, but like you said, she’d be more apt to understand than anyone.”
Harley didn’t say anything. His focus was on Edison, and his attention was far away as he caressed Edison’s cheek. Harley was always touching him, like he couldn’t believe he was real.
“Is she why you haven’t sold the house?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Har?”
“I don’t want to make things worse for him. Mom and Dad and Shianne already give him the cold shoulder. If Vanya found out and did the same, I’d never forgive myself. He’s got a good relationship with her and his cousins. What if…?”
When he didn’t go on, I reached across the couch, trying not to disturb Edison, and touched Harley’s arm. Harley met my eyes. The strain of what could happen was painted all over his face.
“You know her best. Would she really do that?”
“I want to believe she’d understand. Dan won’t. God, I wouldn’t want him to find out. It could ruin their marriage. But, he’s oblivious.”
“It’s a risk we have to take.”
Harley sighed. “I’ll call her and tell her we’ll all be there.”
“Maybe since it’s Reagan’s birthday, everyone will be too busy celebrating to notice us.”
Harley was not reassured.
Chapter Eighteen
Harley
Spring was making a genuine attempt at an appearance on the afternoon of Reagan’s birthday party. The air held the scent of new life, and the trees, although still bare, were sprouting buds. It was cool. A breeze blew in from the north, making jackets a necessity, but it carried the promise of warmer days ahead. The sky was a robin’s egg blue and dusted with fluffy clouds. Some of the birds had come back. The squirrels were out in droves. Only a few dirty piles of snow remained under the trees where the sun couldn’t reach.
We drove together to Vanya’s, Denver at the wheel, me in the passenger seat, and Edison in the back. No one spoke. My wringing hands and jiggling knee caught Denver’s attention when we set off. A small worry line appeared on his brow, so I made an effort to hold still, clenching and unclenching my jaw instead.
It was stupid. We were family, and there should have been no reason to be concerned. Get-togethers were commonplace, and they would continue long into the future. We might as well get used to them. Our