Page 16 of Fighting

I blow out a long breath. “Mom is out of town for work, which means I need to put in extra work with Dad while also co-leading the Sunflower Fest. With Mateo. I do not have time to deal with a dick-measuring contest too.”

She gives me a sympathetic smile.

Pinching the stem of my wineglass, I lower my focus to the table and clear my throat, eager to shift this conversation away from men.

“Want a sibling update? Way more interesting if you ask me,” I deflect.

Delia pauses, eyeing me, but eventually nods.

“Tal has decided to use they/them pronouns.”

“Good for them,” she says, her tone light. “Do they plan to change their name?”

“No, Tal is a genderless name. But Dad Gabe is having a field day with semantics. His first language was gendered. The conversations are driving everyone up a wall.”

Biting her lip, Delia nearly whispers, “Is your dad…?” She shakes her head and starts again. “Do you get the impression it’s about the queerness of it all?”

“Oh—” I suck in a breath. “No, no. Not at all. Since going into private practice, he’s focused on the legal spiderweb around parental rights for same-sex couples, legal name changes, and all kinds of affirming paperwork. This is all failed attempts to make jokes or debate for fun.”

Taking a fortifying sip, I give Delia a soft, nervous smile.

“Want the tea on Shae?”

“Always.” She smiles brightly.

“From the look of her socials, I’m convinced that she’s back to her party girl ways. Any time I bring it up, she scoffs and moves on. She talks about her work a lot, but then it’s just parties.”

“Isn’t she in public relations?”

Delia finishes her wine and turns to the sink, muttering.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she says, turning back holding two glasses of tap water. “She’s twenty-five, and you aren’t her mom,” she adds weakly.

“Yeah, but our parents basically grew up on Mars. I get every phone call. They unload every stressor on me. I do not have time to babysit Mateo too.”

“Maybe you can let him babysit you.” She waggles her blond brows as she sips her water.

I stand and push in my stool with a little too much force. “Maybe when you tell me the real story with Landan.”

The glass hits the counter with a wallop. Mid storm-out, Delia pauses and glares at me over her shoulder. “Low blow.”

“Nighty night.” I wave as she heads toward her bedroom.

Eventually, I will wear her down. Something happened, and it’s making me crazy. Everyone is making me crazy.

I wipe down the counters, put my cup in the dishwasher, and head to my room. There’s really only one way to get myself over this and off to sleep.

I scroll through my e-reader until I find a passage in one of my favorite stories, then change into my silky nightshirt. I don’t need Mateo to babysit me, or for anything else. I can take care of myself. In more than one way.

I reach into my bedside drawer for my trusty vibrator and proceed to do just that: take care of myself.

seven

Mateo

“How’s unpacking going?”Phone on speaker, I give myself a quick appraisal in the mirror, considering whether I should change my shirt.

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