Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Don’t you think I’m a little old for you to be asking me that?” he replied.
She looked away, and wiped her eyes, making Van frown. That wasn’t like his mother at all.
“I thought…I thought you left again.”
It hadn’t seemed to bother her much the first time. Not outside of…what will we tell everyone? Things were different, he noticed. Now, she was alone. Now, he almost sensed…fear? Sadness? At her confession to having thought he left. Anger flashed white hot through him but Van stamped it down. She should have felt those things back then. As long as she had his father, she had been okay. It hadn’t ever mattered to her if Van was, but now she was worried if he was here or not?
“My suitcase is still upstairs. I wouldn’t have left without my stuff.”
“But you would have left without telling me again?” she asked.
He sighed, then replied honestly, “I don’t know. I don’t know how to do this. Not after all these years and not after all I’ve been through.”
She waved him off that easily; he knew the conversation was over. She’d always been good at sweeping things under the rug. “Were you with Jonathan?” she asked.
“No.” Van opened the lid on the coffee machine and began to make a pot.
“He’s a lawyer, you know. He’s done very well for himself. He and his wife have three kids. He met her in college. She’s not from Last Chance, but she fits right in. He’s done a lot for this town. It’s like he’s living out your dream. Remember, the two of you wanted to go into practice together?” She told him everything about Jonathan’s life that Jonathan had already said.
Van scoffed. “That was never my dream. That’s what Dad wanted for me and I knew better than to say I wanted something different.” He looked at her, waiting to see if she would make eye contact. Waiting to see if she would show any kind of remorse, but she didn’t.
“Don’t be silly, Maxwell. Maybe you changed your mind, but you wanted those things. Jonathan comes to see me sometimes. He’s such a good man.”
If she knew more about who he was, would she tell people the same about him? Van had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer to that question. “What about me? Don’t you want to know what I do?” he asked.
“You’re a photographer, right? Painter? Both?”
“Yes, but of what? Do you want to know that?” Maybe he was being an ass and that he shouldn’t be doing this right now, but he couldn’t help it. If they were going to have any kind of relationship, she had to accept him for who he was.
When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Do you want to know if I’m married? If I have anyone special in my life?”
“Do you?” she asked.
“No…but I need you to know, if I did have someone special in my life, he would be a man.”
She gasped.
“And I’m not ashamed of that. I haven’t been in a long time. I’m happy. I’m a gay man and I’m an artist who creates homoerotic art. I put myself through art school. I worked two jobs at a time sometimes. I rented rooms and spent time in shelters, but I made it and I’m proud of that. Are you?”
She shook her head. “Of course, I’m glad you’re okay. You’re trying to pick a fight with me, Max. You’re trying to hurt me.”
“Telling you who I am hurts you?” But the truth was, he feared she might be right.
“Your father—”
“Has no say in my life. Even if he was still here.”
“Are you trying to be difficult?” she asked.
“No.” And he wasn’t. “I’m trying to have a relationship with you and the only way we can do that is if we put all our chips on the table. If you can accept me for who I am. Can you do that?”
She looked down and he closed his eyes while he waited for what would come next. “I don’t know, Max. This is…this is a lot. I just don’t know.”
CHAPTER TEN
Shane hadn’t meant to sleep so long. He stayed at the lake for hours after Van left. It felt easier to think of him as Van. It was almost as though he could then pretend it wasn’t the same person, because he no longer felt like the Maxwell of his dark memories, and he was glad for that. He hadn’t realized how much those old scars lingered and hurt until they dug them up and reburied them again. Yelling at Van had been therapeutic, releasing all of the anger he’d held against the old Max.
He hadn’t caught any other fish as he sat there, but then, he wasn’t worried about that. He went out there more for time alone than anything else, which was funny because he had plenty of time by himself. It was different there, though.