His heart skipped. “Uh, no. Your mom was my best friend and I loved her very much, but she wasn’t my girlfriend. We were curious, so we had sex to see what it was like.” When Maggie had started asking a myriad of questions earlier that year, he’d bitten the bullet and borrowed a few books from the library on sex ed that they’d read through together. He didn’t want her to have any hang-ups, so he tried to discuss it as openly as possible using straightforward language.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend? Or even go out on any dates? Ever?”
His mouth went dry. “Well, I just haven’t met the right…person.”
She echoed, “‘The right person.’ Dad, are you gay?”
“I…” He had to be honest. He had to tell her the truth, but no words squeezed out through his closed throat.
“I saw you and Ben kissing at the hospital. I was supposed to be asleep, but I woke up and I could see you in the mirror.”
“Oh.” Say something! Say the right thing!
“I still love you just as much if you like boys.” She stared at him solemnly. “You know that, right?”
A weight lifted from Jason’s chest, and he exhaled. “I know, baby. Yes, I’m gay. I didn’t actually realize it for a long time, or I would have told you sooner.”
“Is Ben your boyfriend?”
“Uh…” Trust Maggie to cut right to the chase. “I’m not sure.”
She frowned. “Why not? Ben’s awesome. What’s there not to be sure about?”
“It’s just not that easy.”
“You like each other, right? Why does it have to be hard?”
“We live thousands of miles apart. There’s a lot to figure out.”
“Are we never going to see him again? Why didn’t he say goodbye to me?” Hurt was clear in Maggie’s plaintive whine. “Why didn’t he come see me before we went to the airport? Is he mad?”
“No, baby. It all just happened quickly when we left, and Ben had to get back to work.”
“But he was there, and he didn’t say goodbye. What if I never get to see him again? Don’t you want to see him?”
Memories of Ben’s smile and low laughter echoed, the sensation of his rough stubble on Jason’s skin, the caress of lips and hands. A tangle of contradiction suffocated Jason. One minute he was firm—he didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Yet in the next breath, he longed for the strength of Ben’s arms. Ben had seen Jason with every defense stripped away and wanted him nonetheless.
Maggie asked, “Do you still like him?”
Jason’s heart clenched as his brain answered clearly: I love him. Digging his fingers into the futon, he got out, “Uh-huh.”
Do I love him?
“Don’t you want to see him? Why are you scared?”
Jason didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know.”
She sprang to her feet. “I think you’re being dumb.”
“Maggie! Don’t talk to me like that.” Even if you’re right.
“I’m going to play with Max.”
“What? No. I don’t want you going out.”
She huffed. “It’s not out. He lives right downstairs. I want to see him. I want to play.”
Jason opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut. Having her out of his sight for more than a few minutes made him squirmy, but it was good that she wanted to play with her friend and do normal things. He’d be back at work soon to pay the mounting bills, and he couldn’t bring her with him. He had to deal with the reality that he couldn’t watch her every minute and that Maggie didn’t want him to.
He stood. “Okay. Let’s get dressed and I’ll walk you down and say hi to Mrs. Lane.”
Still in pajamas, Max’s mother greeted Maggie with a big hug, her curly dark hair hanging loose over her shoulders. Jason stood stiffly as she hugged him next, the kids already breathlessly planning what kind of fort to build.
He tried to smile. “Hi, Christy. You’re sure it’s okay for Maggie to invade?”
Christy grinned. “Are you kidding? She’ll keep Max and Madison entertained for hours with her imagination, even though Madison barely understands.” Her smile faded. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine. I’m great.”
Eyebrow popping dubiously, Christy said, “Look, I know we’ve never really talked about anything but the weather or the kids, but I’m here if you need an ear. I know you went through hell.”
Jason’s throat tightened. “Yeah. Thanks.” Christy was right that they’d never talked about anything serious, although she’d invited him to have drinks with her and her husband or dinner with the family more than once. He’d always said no. What had he been afraid of?
That they’d see I wasn’t good enough, that I could barely manage, that I’m a bad father.
He said, “Can you call me to come get her when she’s ready? I know it’s only one floor and I’m being paranoid, but…”