them this week and I’m going to talk to my dad privately after.
My mom promised she won’
t say anything to him. I’ll tell my
brother after that. He’s busy, so it’s more just trying to figure
out a good time for him in between all the meetings and other
stuff he has going on. I want to take small steps. This is all
pretty new.”
I can’t say why that translates to me as doubts and
fears that Steph will lose her courage or get talked out of it.
That maybe she’ll tell them in the end that she was wrong.
That it was just a phase. Or that maybe her dad won’t take
things like her mom did and will threaten to disinherit her or
something. I shouldn’t think things like that, but all my
insecurities bubble over.
“Are you sure?”
Steph’s face goes blank. “Am I sure about what?” Her
face changes, her eyes losing some of their spark, the openness
and softness fading away to be replaced with something
harder. Some of her own doubt maybe.
“You’re really going to do this? We never really talked
about it. We should have, but I guess I didn’t want to rush you.
We’re still new. I didn’t want to make demands. I didn’t want
to put labels on it. That scares people off.”
“It doesn’t scare me off.” Steph crosses her arms.
I focus on something external to try and get out of my
own head. I focus on the steam curling up from the mugs, the
slight hum and hiss of the kettle as it cools, the intense, dark
gold sunlight that cuts through the open window and slants
across the counter and floor. It’s the last light of the day, as the
sun is starting to set.