Deacon’s heart was breaking, his chest aching for the man he loved.
“Oh, Grady,” Cat said softly.
“I didn’t know,” Janice said. “It just felt like you stopped wanting to be a member of this family. We couldn’t get you to eat at family meals, and you’d stay out all night, and then you were gone. And when you left, you didn’t come back, and the calls dwindled until they disappeared altogether. Then one day you were here and telling us you were gay, and we did the one thing a parent is never supposed to do—we let our child walk away.”
“You changed your phone number, Grady,” Betsy added.
Deacon hadn’t known all that, all the details, but it didn’t change things. He still thought they could have done more, could have made sure he knew he was loved.
“So this is my fault?” Grady asked.
“No,” Betsy said, “that’s not what I meant. It just felt like you didn’t want us, that you’d put a wall up between us even before you told us you were gay.”
“To protect myself!” Grady said, louder than Deacon had heard from him, fire and years of pain in his voice. “Because I knew what would happen. I was fifteen when I realized, and I was alone—alone and afraid and felt broken. After years of that, yes, old habits die hard. I steeled myself because I knew what would happen, and I thought maybe it would hurt less if I’d already put space between us, but it didn’t.”
The room went silent then, except for the sound of everyone breathing, of Janice crying, and Betsy rubbing her hand on her mom’s back.
“You’re his family,” Deacon said. “You’re supposed to love him regardless of anything else. You’re supposed to be at his side no matter what. You’re supposed to want him to be happy, even if you think that happiness looks different from yours or what you wanted for him. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t my business, but—”
“But you love him,” Cat said. “You’re showing you love him better than we did.”
Grady’s head snapped toward Deacon. They hadn’t said those words to each other yet, and now probably wasn’t the time to have that discussion, but Deacon wasn’t going to deny it either. “Yes, I love him.”
Grady’s mouth parted on a breath, his eyes holding Deacon’s, glistening with unshed tears—because of what Deacon had said, or what was happening with his family, or a combination of both…Deacon couldn’t say. He just knew he didn’t want Grady to hurt. That he would take on the whole damn world to keep that from happening if he had to.
“You do?”
He hadn’t known? How could he doubt it? “Yes. I’m getting you furry mini-cows and giant metal Sasquatches. That didn’t tell you?” Deacon tried to tease, but Grady didn’t take the bait.
“I love you too,” Grady replied, his voice rough with emotion. His hands went to Deacon’s cheeks, pulling him close and kissing him. There was so much heart in it, like Grady’s lips had been painted in it.
When they pulled apart, it wasn’t only Janice crying anymore—Betsy and Cat were too.
“Oh God, what have we done?” his mom whispered. “I’m so sorry, Grady. What kind of mother walks away from her son? I loved you… I love you. I miss you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. The more time that went by, the more I realized that my son was more important than anything else, than what I’d been taught, but at the same time, it made it harder to reach out too. How did I find you? How did I make up for what we’d done? How do you ever look your son in the eye again when you failed at the one thing you’re supposed to do as a parent—make sure they know how much they’re loved. I know I can’t make up for what I did. I will go to my grave with regret, but…I want another chance. I want to be the mom you deserve.”
Deacon’s eyes were watering then too. He let go of Grady when he got up, watched as he went to his mom and took her into his arms again, and while he knew nothing had been fixed, that there was a long road ahead of them, it was a beginning. That was the only place to start.
Chapter 31
Grady
It had been a hell of a day, and it wasn’t even over yet. They’d talked for a while longer—him and his sisters and his mom. A lot of tears had been shed, followed by apologies, and I-love-yous, and how-can-we-do-betters. Those were what meant the most to him. Life wasn’t always about being a good person or always doing the right thing. It wasn’t even about having all the answers, which Grady didn’t, not really. He didn’t get how just time and love would change them, but they said the only way to see was to allow them to prove it, not with words, but with actions. That’s what life was about—falling and getting back up. Forgiveness. Trying. Accepting. He was accepting them at their word, and if they proved him wrong, then that said more about them than about him.