Incandescent

His eyebrows drew together. “I think the early 1800s.”

“Tell me more about which militaries adopted them while we stand in line.”

And he did, with much animation, as we stepped inside the busy restaurant. Once our burgers, fries, and shakes were ordered, we found a table near the window. As usual, Grant received some gawks from nosy adults, but this time I stared back until they looked away. Maybe because being around my father had driven the point home that Grant was mine. I’d helped create him and shape him, the job was sacred and precious, and I needed to remember that more often. I wouldn’t trade him for the world, and maybe he needed to hear that more too.

At grief group the following week, there was a certain buzz in the air when Marcus entered the room, everyone undoubtedly anticipating the details about his date with a guy. I’d admit, it felt like ages ago since he’d met that dude for coffee, and I was curious if he had anything else on the horizon. The idea of Marcus holding or comforting another guy made my gut tighten uncomfortably, but I knew it was selfish to want to hoard more of his time.

That wasn’t the only reason, though, and I knew it. Ever since the night I’d gotten tipsy, there was a different vibe between us, our text conversations striking a bit deeper in tone. Like my visit with my father, for example. I’d told him everything that night, including some childhood crap, and even about my dinner afterward with Grant.

“All right, everyone,” Judy said loudly, and all the side conversations became muted. “Let’s address the elephant in the room. But it’ll be Marc’s decision to share anything.”

When our eyes met, his crinkled in amusement. Judy likely knew that little would get done if she didn’t address it head-on.

“It depends,” Marcus replied, folding his arms across his chest, and I found myself mapping the prominent veins along his muscled forearms. “Do they want to know the details so it helps them in some way, or for pure titillation?”

“What do you think?” Harmony asked with an eye roll.

“Not true. I want to know what it’s like to move forward,” Frank said. “Not that I’d be any good on the dating sites. I’m not young and virile any longer, but I’d like to think there’s a possibility of me finding companionship again.”

“It depends what you mean by companionship. A true courtship, or something to scratch the itch?” John piped in, and the group laughed uneasily.

“Both are valid,” Judy said. “As long as you’re on the same page with the person and there’s mutual consent.”

“True,” John said. “Though this consent thing they talk about nowadays isn’t something my generation discussed. A man had his place, but he should never put his hands on a woman.”

“Well, you’re actually saying the same thing. That’s how we referred to it back then,” Frank said. “Now, can you be quiet long enough to let Marc speak? I want to hear how his date went.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it didn’t actually go so well. We weren’t a good fit.” Marcus winced. “What I realized is that typing messages into a phone is different from figuring out if you’re compatible in person. That’s not to say people can’t meet and find their person that way. It’s just not a perfect system.”

“Because there’s no sarcasm font?” I teased.

“Exactly,” he replied with a laugh. “I also can’t tell if their dad joke is cute or corny.”

I shrugged. “Cute, obviously.”

“I sense an inside joke.” Harmony winked at me, which made me blush. “Do you plan on deleting the app—or maybe you already have?”

“I haven’t, and I don’t have any plans to delete it, not yet,” Marcus replied, and I felt my gut pinch again. “It was a good experience regardless of the outcome. My advice is to go for it, even if the end result feels like a waste of time. It’s good to make connections with people so we don’t feel so alone.”

“Hear, hear!” Frank said, and I blew out a breath, wondering why I was feeling so strange and overheated.

“Great advice,” Judy said. “Anyone else want to share their dating experiences?”

When others jumped in to share, I only half-listened, not because I couldn’t relate, at least not yet, but because I remembered how I’d confessed my sexuality to Marcus. In his own way, he’d helped me find myself—a part of myself that had been buried for years. Maybe that saying was true that people came into your life for various reasons and to help you find different versions of yourself. But not all of them stuck around, and you had to find a way to live with that.

After the meeting ended, we walked together toward the parking lot.

“So, I’ll see you this weekend?” Marcus asked. “To discuss a plan for the kitchen and take measurements?”