Page 21 of Emil

“It was a gift.”

“From your mom?”

“Ha! I’m not sure my mom knows what a sewing machine actually looks like, and she definitely doesn’t know how to use one. One of my aunts made it.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I used to help her by doing yard work and taking her to the grocery store after she stopped driving, and this was her graduation present to me when I graduated from college.” The importance of it was evident from his voice and the almost reverent way he smoothed over the panels. “She passed away pretty quickly after that. It’s my favorite thing.”

“Is there a significance to the fabric?”

He traced the seams of the panels. I didn’t know what the pattern was called, but they looked like little houses.

“Yeah, I’d come out to my family, and she wanted to remind me that I always had a home, so she did a log cabin design in rainbow colors.”

“I like how they are more muted,” I said with a quick glance in his direction. His lips were turned up with the tiniest hint of a smile. Keep him talking. “There were no beautiful gifts for my coming out.”

“What?” Anders asked with clear shock in his voice. “Since when are you gay?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

ANDERS

“My whole life,” Mr. Magnuson said with a chuckle. I felt foolish that I hadn’t figured it out. My gaydar was an abject failure.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s anything to be sorry about. I’m pretty okay with it.”

“Yeah, I mean…” I said with a sigh. “Never mind. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Let me start again.” I paused and took a breath before I said, “So, no coming-out present?”

“No, but I did get a box of condoms from my dad,” he said with another chuckle.

Mr. Magnuson seamlessly pulled into the ferry line as we spoke and patiently waited for the attendant to wave him on. Despite everything that had happened today, I was still excited to see the island. It had always sat out in the bay, waiting, but somehow, I’d never managed to make it onto the ferry.

In front of us, the ferry docked and cars began exiting. I studied the barge and saw the enclosed observation deck. I tried to be subtle as I checked out the boat, but I don’t think I pulled it off very well.

“Once we’re on board, we can get out of the car and go up to the observation deck. The view is really nice.”

“Was I that obvious?” It had never not annoyed me that my blushes were so obvious, and I could feel the flush on my face.

“Maybe a little, but there’s nothing wrong with being excited about new experiences.”

I appreciated what he had to say, but there wasn’t much I could add without outing my friends’ lifestyles. John always complained that when I got excited about something, I was turning into one of those goddamn littles, as he called them. I wasn’t a little like the rest of the boys. Hell, I wasn’t even a boy. But the one thing I was jealous of was how they could find so much pleasure in small things, and I thought that was really cool.

Once we were directed to our spot, Mr. Magnuson killed the engine and turned to face me. His voice wasn’t annoyed at all when he said, “Let’s go up.” I scrambled as much as a guy my size could out of the car and was waiting eagerly by the hood before he was out of the vehicle.

He directed me to the stairs leading to the upper deck. As usual, a steady stream of drizzle left everything damp. The wind off the Sound was cold, but our coats kept us warm enough, though I couldn’t keep all the shivers at bay. Mr. Magnuson stepped closer to where I stood at the rail. He was a furnace, and his close presence was enough to warm me up. The sharp bite of wetness was enough to stop any spirals into overthinking the current mess of my life.

I didn’t want to ruin the mood, but I had to say something about the office fiasco. He hadn’t mentioned it one time. Whatever feelings I had for John, they’d been stomped and then ground under his heel until they were dead and gone. I’d known our relationship was rocky, but I never expected this.

“Mr. Magnuson, I really appreciate the way you’ve handled this mess.” The words came out in a hurry, like I was afraid I wouldn’t get a chance to finish saying it.

“Emil.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Emil.”