Page 16 of What You Own
“Did you know about the memory loss?”
Her eyebrows went up. Even Daddy stopped eating long enough to stare at me.
“What memory loss?” he asked.
“Most of the night,” I said. “He says he remembers deciding to go to Pizza City because he wanted to talk to me, and then he woke up in ICU. He doesn’t remember what we said to each other, what Chad said to us, nothin’. Adam’s father wouldn’t let us talk to each other, and he apparently wasn’t all that truthful to Adam, so Adam’s been in the dark all these years.”
Momma picked at her paper napkin. “You believe him?” she asked.
“I do. Adam was… we could never lie to each other. He had no idea we were friends again, for a little while, before the fight started.”
“That man!” Daddy said. He slammed his palm down on the table, making the bowl of string beans rattle. “Slimier than a greased pig and twice as useless, lettin’ his child spend three years not knowin’ facts of his own life. Not knowin’ what you gave up to save him more hurt.”
My nerves jumped. “I didn’t tell Adam about that.”
“Obviously Raymond Langley didn’t, either. Son of a bitch.”
I didn’t disagree. Adam had been lied to and not given any choices about how things were gonna be after the bashing. “I gave Adam the highlights, but he wants the details. He does deserve them.”
Momma caught my tone. “But?” she prompted.
“Seein’ him again stirred up all those old feelings for me, and maybe for him too. But Adam’s not out, and I doubt he ever will be. Not with his daddy holdin’ the purse strings so tight.”
“You don’t want him to break your heart again.”
“No, I don’t, and I’m pretty sure he will.”
You’d think talking about stuff like this, especially gay stuff, with your parents would be weird. But my parents are pretty awesome, and nothing about it was awkward or embarrassing. They knew it all, anyway.
“You don’t have to see him again, y’know,” Daddy said. “If he wants details, send him an e-mail and be done with it.”
“I kinda do have to see him again,” I said. “Langley-Quartermaine is backing the fundraiser at the center, and part of the deal was allowing Adam to assist on the committee so he could use it for college credit. We’re gonna be workin’ together all summer.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Momma asked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a horrible idea, but I can’t do anything about it. The center’s too important to me. Ellie and I came up with the idea for the benefit, and I can’t bail now.”
“Oh, baby, I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.”
“I don’t want either of us to get hurt again, trust me.”
Daddy grunted. “Well, maybe you two can finally put this to rest once and for all and move on with your lives.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Dinner continued with more casual conversations. Momma put the leftover chicken in a container for me to take home, and then I helped her do the dishes while Daddy went to watch the news. I washed and she dried, and we did it silently for a little while.
“I wish you didn’t still have feelings for that boy,” she said.
I nearly dropped the glass I’d been rinsing. I wanted to deny it so she’d drop the subject, but she wouldn’t. She wasn’t like that. She came from a big family that knew each other’s business, and she’d bully information out of me with the determination of an eight-second rider. “I wish I didn’t too,” I said.
“When will you see him again?”
I glanced at the rooster clock on the wall. “In about an hour. We have our first official fundraiser committee meeting at eight.”
“So you’re not stickin’ around for TV?”
“Can’t tonight.”
