Page 67 of Winter Break

“What? Turner? Are you okay? What are you even saying?”

He stood right in front of me and grasped my arms. “I used to worry about you spending all your time with Miss Anita and the old guys in the chamber, but maybe you’re spending too much time on your own these days. You should get out. Are you getting out? Whatever happened to that guy, Amed?”

“Amir,” I corrected.

He nodded, studying my face.

“Amir, yeah. Did he move away?”

“He did.”

“What about that guy that helps out at the Three B’s? The teacher? He’s gay, right?”

I shook my head again, even more confused about what our conversation was about. “Brett, we’ve been through this. Just because you know two gay people doesn’t mean you have to try and set them up. I’m …”

I’m seeing someone, or at least I think I am. And I’m really happy about it. I look in his green eyes, the ones that are just like yours except I can see everything in them, I can see my future.

“I’m fine, Brett. Really, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay. You sure?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Okay. You look good. Tired, but good. Anyway, there’s like no one here, so can you close up and come to my parents’ with me?”

“Okay. I was about to close up anyway.”

Oddly, Brett raised the back of his hand to my face.

At first I didn’t understand why, but it dawned on me at the same time he said the words: “Mal and I got married last week and …” It registered then what he had been saying when I was calculating whether I needed to run away from him. It wasn’t his baby brother he had been talking about.

“And you’re having a baby!”

“Yeah, man!”

“Holy shit.”

“Come on, the family’s waiting. Mal’s family is here too. So, no big wedding next summer, but I am going to need to do some shopping. For the baby. You’ll help me with that, won’t you, Uncle Turner?”

“Uncle Turner.”

We were hugging when we heard the door slam from the back.

“Hey, is your phone dead because I have so much gossip …” The curtain fluttered, and Dalton stood framed in the door, his eyes wide as he took in the scene, his brother and me arm in arm, Brett with a goofy smile on his face, me looking back at Dalton in horror, a look he shared; both of us, I assumed, running through what Dalton had said and whether or not we had just outed ourselves.

“Dude! I specifically told you I was coming to tell Turner.”

“He told you?” Dalton’s face changed in an instant, from concerned to elated.

“Yeah, Uncle Dalton, he told me.”

Brett sputtered in my hold. “He was gonna come in here and tell you himself! What the fuck, Shorty?”

“Please, Brett! Do you think you’re the only gossip in this town? Did you know that a vice president of New Day Technologies is staying with the Lessands, and that the author of The Clock Tower apparently lives here now and has a daughter at the middle school?”

“What’s New Day Technologies?” my brother asked.

“Seriously, Brett. Do you live under a rock? What have you been up to?” his brother asked. I could see Brett getting ready to answer, so I jumped in quickly.

“Do not answer that!”

“Eww,” Dalton added.