and kissed the tip of his nose. I jerked my gaze away.
It still weirded me out to see Deacon being affectionate, openly affectionate, with a guy. He’d been so deep in the closet, I’d thought he’d never come out. But if I were being honest, it was the stab of pain in my chest that made me turn away. The twist of my gut that said, ‘You’ll never get that. No matter how long you wait.’
I knew Julian had his reasons for not coming out. But it didn’t make it easier to watch Deacon and Mal. To want what they had so badly. And to know I would never get it.
“Uncle Connor thinks we should have gnomes,” Lily said, picking her backpack up from the floor.
“Uncle Connor has not entered an opinion in this debate,” I corrected her. “I’m neutral. I’m the Switzerland of garden gnomes.”
“Walk to school with me and Dad.” She shrugged into her backpack. “There’s this house that has like, twenty of them.”
“Twenty sounds like a lot of gnomes.”
“You just have to see it,” she wheedled. “Come on. Please?”
Which was how I found myself walking to school with Lily, Deacon, and Roxie. Lily didn’t really need the supervision, but it was a ritual she and Deacon had. I almost felt like I was interrupting as Lily chatted excitedly about visiting her mom and the upcoming summer play and, yes, the adorableness of the veritable battalion of garden gnomes in the front yard of a little green cottage we passed.
At the end of the block where Adair Elementary was located, Lily took off down the street with a casual, “Oh, I see Ella! Bye, Dad!”
Deacon wanted to continue down the block, just to make sure Lily made it inside the building, and he gave me a pained look.
“Aren’t they supposed to wait until they’re at least thirteen before they start ditching you in favor of their friends?”
“Feeling jealous?” I asked absently.
I wasn’t precisely scanning the front of the building and schoolyard for Julian, but I wasn’t precisely not doing that either. He had that meeting with his principal sometime today. Maybe I should text him to wish him luck?
“How embarrassing is it if I say yes?”
“For the average person, or for you?” I pulled my eyes away from the school for a second to raise an eyebrow at Deacon. “You’ve done some pretty embarrassing things in your life. I’d say this barely even registers.”
“Have I told you lately how much I enjoy having you home?”
“You don’t have to say it with words. It radiates from your every pore.”
Deacon rolled his eyes. “I’m just glad she made friends so easily. I was worried with her moving here at this age.”
“Eh, she’s an easy kid to like.” I sighed. Wherever Julian was right now, it wasn’t here. I had no right to feel so disappointed, and yet, I did. “You couldn’t pay me enough to be that age again, though.”
“Bad memories?”
“Something like that.”
Deacon nodded at the school. “When’s the last time you were even in that building? Must be like twenty years now or something.”
Twenty years. Or three days. What’s the difference, really?
Last Friday did feel like a lifetime ago. Three days since admitting that avoiding Julian wasn’t working. Three days since accepting that I was going to get hurt again no matter what. Three days, and I was as hung up on him as I’d been the day I left Summersea.
I shrugged, not intending to answer, but Deacon must have seen something in my face. It had always annoyed me that he was able to do that, because Deacon was never content to just notice something about you. He had to comment on it. Turn it into a ‘Talk’ with a capital ‘T.’
“You seem suspiciously quiet.”
“It’s not suspicious. I just don’t have anything to say.”
“In response to a totally innocuous question? I’d say that’s a little weird.”
“I thought it was rhetorical.”
“Not now that you’re refusing to answer, it isn’t.” Deacon looked back at the school. “Except I’m confused, because unless you’ve been secretly teaching a class on how to be taciturn to fifth graders, or converting all the kindergartners to your cause to save McIntyre Beach, there’s no reason for you to—”
He stopped, and looked back at me, eyes wide.
“What?”
“I just remembered.”
“Just remembered what?” I hated it when Deacon went all older-brother on me.
“Oh, Connor. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry. Was it hard, this walk? You didn’t have to say yes to Lily, you know.”
“I still have no