Page 108 of The Secret We Keep
What I really want is a skin full, but one will do. “Yeah,” I tell him, stepping closer.
He pours two mugs that just happen to be on the side. Handy.
“And this is a regular thing for you?” I ask, accepting the mug he passes me.
“Only when I can’t bear things in there.” He points to the house.
I follow his trained finger. “Is that often?”
Pops slowly swallows, eyes dragging up, finding me. “Never, son.” He lets out a sigh.
My eyes scrunch. “Then why’d you have the bottle in here?”
“Been saving it for when you got home.”
My mouth opens, but what the hell am I supposed to say to that? “I’m sorry,” is what I come up with before taking another swig.
“Don’t be. It’s been ages since I did this. Last time was when you were going through your gay phase.”
I choke on my drink, thrown so far off kilter I’m certain there must be an earthquake underneath me. “Mywhat?”
He looks at me all wide-eyed. “Your gay phase, son. Your mother told me all about it.”
I stand motionless, eyes bulged and lips parted.
“When you wanted to meet up with men. You know? You put your number in the bus stop.”
He’s deadly serious.
Fucking Fi and that stupid prank. “I beg of you, Pops. Stop talking.”
“What? There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”
My God. I slap a hand to my head. “I know. Jesus, is that why you wanted to send me to military school? Because you’re sookaywith it.”
“No.” He casually sips from his mug. “That was for your own protection. You never know who could have called you. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Bewildered with my sanity shattering, I finish my mug with a hiss, the burn tracking its way down, making my throat burn. “Well, just to be clear, that wasn’t me. I’m as straight as they come. I’ve never wanted to give oral sex to men or have it in return for that matter.”
His lips roll in on each other in a look of surprise. “You really should—”
“That’s not what I mean,” I say exasperated. Lord, fucking help me. “Give me another, will you?” I hold out my mug.
Pops grins. “Okay. But this is the last one. We’ve got shit to be doing.”
The buzz from doing shots on an empty stomach was enough for me to grab some lunch up at the house, and for Pops to go take a nap. An hour later, fully satisfied after my not essential, but delicious full English bap, Pops is still sleeping, and I’m leisurely making my way back down to the yard.
My phone rings.
I pull it out of my pocket, still walking. “Hello?”
“Paddy.”
My feet falter. “Alright, Tom?”
“I have good news,” he comes right out and says.
I hold my breath, eyes fixed straight ahead.
