Page 27 of Margins

“Maybe, but none of them have made me want to listen.”

There are a couple beats before either of them moves, but eventually their food gets delivered and they take it outside, where lunch is relaxed, and everything Alex needs to finish settling his nerves. They enjoy soda and pizza and cheesy bread on the sunny but cold afternoon, and they have hours to themselves before Elijah has to go to work, taking their time to exchange stories and laugh plenty, and though they don’t touch, everything about that feels okay. There’s only the shadow of tension between them, not like there had been in the hallway when they’d shared a breath for a moment or two, and maybe Alex wants to look for it again, or maybe it’s going to have to look for him.

Eventually, Elijah pops the last piece of crust into his mouth and grins around it. Alex reaches down to pet Poe when he walks by.

“We loved with a love that was more than love,” Alex recites, pulling a memory from a high school English class where he’d sat with Cassidy by his side.

The turn of Elijah’s head is strangely slow, his eyes wide. “Alex.”

“Oh, no. Wait, no, I—” Alex shakes his head, his cheeks warm. “It was just because of Poe. I was quoting—”

“'Annabel Lee.' Yeah, no, it’s not—I—it’s Uncle Edgar.”

“Edgar Allan Poe was your uncle?” Alex asks, the furrow of his brows almost painful.

“No, god, I—” Elijah stands and scrubs a hand over his face, somehow lost and still very much right there in front of Alex. “I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. How could I not—oh my god. Poe belonged to my grandpa, and like you said, the name fit because of the whole ‘Raven’ thing, but it was also a nod to his Uncle Edgar, who wasn’t his literal uncle, but was—”

“A very close friend of his father’s,” Alex finishes. “E.”

“Peter and Edgar.”

“So, that means your grandpa definitely knew, and he kept their secret his entire life.”

“Seems like it, yeah,” Elijah agrees. “Which is really fucking sad because he’s probably also a lot of why it was so much harder for them to find ways to be together back then.”

Alex nods. “Because he would’ve been a kid, still at home with Peter, and likely with some other live-in childcare after Evelyn died. Sneaking Edgar into his house might have been risky no matter what, but Peter definitely couldn’t have tried it with his son there.”

“And Uncle Edgar would’ve lived somewhere crowded and loud, if he had somewhere official to live at all, so my great grandfather would never have been able to go there.”

“So, then, Edgar was some kind of what—errand boy between the dockside warehouses and the fancy office buildings in town?”

“Probably, yeah,” Elijah says. “I know he was younger than my great grandfather, so that tracks. Then they met at the law firm somehow, and everything grew from there.”

“Wait, did you ever meet Edgar?” Alex asks, pushing up from his chair to help clean up their lunch and move back inside.

“I—yeah, I—it’s so vague,” Elijah sighs, still stunned as they stack everything on the kitchen counter. “I feel like there was a birthday party for my grandpa in San Diego one year when I was little—I remember my parents taking us to the zoo one day we were down there—but yeah, I—I’m almost positive my great grandfather lived down there, and I think Uncle Edgar might’ve been with him.”

Something loosens in Alex’s chest at the thought of them staying together all those years, but tightens again when he realizes that the relationship doesn’t seem to have ever been a public one, and it both sharpens and dulls every one of his own fears. He falls onto the couch and waits for Elijah to join him there.

“You don’t remember the rest of your family ever talking about Peter being gay?”

“Nope,” Elijah says, the line of his jaw tight when he sits next to Alex. “But so much makes more sense now.”

“Like your relationship with them?”

“Yeah. Peter was my mom’s grandfather, but it never seemed like she knew that much about him, and maybe she didn’t. And there’s no way my grandpa would’ve judged them, but maybe he was so intent on protecting his father’s relationship that he didn’t let his own kids see Peter all that often.”

“What about that trip to San Diego, though? Seeing Peter and Edgar together there? Did something happen before or after that?”

“Like, did my parents figure something out about them being gay?” Elijah shrugs. “Maybe. I honestly don’t remember them saying anything at all, but they both seemed very ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ my whole life. Loudly approving when I liked girls and then remaining remarkably silent when I—did not. It got to the point where I tried to mix it up enough that they were satisfied half the time.”

Alex pulls one of the books from the table so he doesn’t wrap his arms around Elijah instead. “Okay, and you said you were really close to your grandpa. Were your brother and sister close to him, too?”

“Not like I was, no,” he admits. “They were always close to my parents.”

“So, maybe your grandpa saw something in you that needed to be protected, too.”

Elijah’s head falls and Alex isn’t surprised when a teardrop lands in his lap. “Fuck, I miss him.”

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