Page 19 of Tailored for Them

“Oh,” Violet nodded, “…Wait, likemyNicole?”

I caught myself before I frowned.

I didn’t like the sound of that.

I knew what Violet meant, I knew that Violet was, as far as I could tell, mostly straight. That she and Nicole weren’t like that. But that didn’t mean I liked hearing her say those words.My Nicole.

Nicole didn’t belong to anyone.

Not her ex.

Not Violet.

Frankly, not even me.

Which, weirdly, didn’t make me feel better.

“Yeah,” I shrugged as I watched Violet and Gracie play in the sensory bin together.

“You two text each other?”

“Now we do,” I plucked a marble out of the sensory bin and gently set it on the table, watching as Gracie frowned and snatched the marble with her little fingers, before placing it back in the bin with the rest of them. I smiled at the little girl, loving how her brain worked.

Violet opened her mouth to respond, but I was saved from having to explainwhyI was texting another coworker of hers by one of mine gently knocking on the door and entering my office.

Beck’s hazel eyes and dark brown hair greeted us as she said, “Hi, sorry to interrupt.”

“You’re fine,” I smiled at my long-time friend, “What’s up?”

“I’m just delivering this,” Beck quietly stepped into the room to set a hot coffee on my desk, careful not to startle Gracie or throw off her routine. “Also, we’re going to visit Gram later if you want to join us.”

I gave her a thumbs up, “I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good,” Beck turned to Violet, “You’re getting ready to move soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Violet sighed, “I have lots of feelings about it.” She gently tucked a blonde curl out of her daughter’s face, who hummed as she focused on her sensory bin.

“Post lots of pictures,” Beck replied with a grin, “It’ssobeautiful up there. I love how green northern California is.”

“You’re so right,” Violet grinned back, but she looked nervous. “I will. Say bye, Gracie.” Violet prompted her daughter by tapping her on the shoulder. Gracie glanced up at Beck, her former speech therapist, and stared for a solid three seconds before focusing back on her bin.

“Take care, Gracie!” Beck signed her goodbye as well, before ducking out of the room.

“Who is Gram?” Violet immediately asked.

I smiled, a familiar but faded ache burning in my chest at the question.

“Beck’s grandmother,” I replied, “She passed away a few years ago. We visit her grave every now and then.”

Susan Scott was an icon. Both sets of my grandparents had passed away when I was too young to build any memories with them. My older brother had memories and told me stories about my grandparents, but I always felt left out. When I became friends with Beck after starting work here at the clinic, she was living with her grandmother at the time. After many movieand game nights at the townhouse that Courtney and Josh now resided in, Susan Scott became an honorary grandparent of mine. She considered all of us her honorary grandchildren.

For the longest time, she and I were the only openly queer people in our little trusted circle of friendship—until Courtney reconnected with Josh at one of his concerts. Because of this, I felt like she and I had a special understanding of each other. How many people my age could say that they had a queer grandparent they could look up to? Susan Scott wasn’t my grandmother by blood, but she was my Gram in all the ways that truly mattered.

“That’s sweet,” Violet replied, seconds before Gracie grabbed a handful of beans and tossed them across the room. “Girl, why?”

I smirked. Violet was a hilarious mom. Not only was she shamelessly alt with her tattoos and bright blue hair, but she also spoke to her daughter as an equal.

Gracie ignored her mom and dug her fist in the beans again, grabbing a large handful, before Violet grasped her daughter’s wrist to keep her from chucking the contents of the sensory bin again.

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