Page 188 of What We Brave
"It's different now. He's — things are different. He's good—we're good— and it's not the same as before, it's really not?—"
"Okay." Her voice is careful. Not cold. Just careful like she doesn't want to spook me. "How long?"
"Few months."
"And he's treating you right."
"Yes. God, yes. He's — yes."
She nods slowly. Picks her coffee back up. Sips it. I can see her working through it — not judging, just turning it over. Joyce doesn't do snap reactions.
"All right," she says. "So you're back with Reid. And that's the hard part? Telling me that?"
I stare at my cup.
"That's not the hard part."
Joyce waits.
Just say it. You said it to Jamila. Jamila didn't blink. Okay, she blinked a little bit. But it went ok. Just open your mouth and say it.
But Jamila is Jamila . Jamila lives in a world where things like this make sense. Joyce is — Joyce is my work mom. Joyce has been married to Harold for thirty-five years. Joyce goes to church and makes banana bread and held my hand after my first code and what if?—
What if what? What if she's awful about it?Joyce?
That's the thing though. That's exactly the thing. If Danielle thought I was weird, I'd get over it by lunch. If Joyce looks at me differently?—
"There's someone else," I say.
Joyce goes still.
"I'm not cheating. It's not — Reid knows. Everyone knows. It's all — we're all in it. Together."
"Together," Joyce repeats, brow furrowing.
"His name is Blake. He's Reid's best friend. They were in the Marines together. He's the one who — when Reid's brother died, Blakewas the one who got Reid through it. They've been — they're family. They live together. They've lived together for years."
Joyce is looking at me very steadily. I can't read her face and it's making my hands shake.
"And you're... with both of them."
"Yeah."
"At the same time."
"Yeah."
"And they both know."
"It's not — Joyce, it's not some secret. They're not competing. It's all three of us. It's a — it's like a—" I don't know what it's like. I don't have the word. "It's real. It's a real relationship. With both of them."
Silence.
I want to fill it. I want to explain and justify and lay out the whole history — how it started, how it works, how Blake looks at me, how Reid holds my hand, how the three of us fit in ways I didn't think were possible. I want to build a case. Present evidence. Make it make sense.
But I'm out of words. I used them all getting here and now I'm just sitting in this terrible chair under these terrible lights holding this terrible coffee and waiting for Joyce to say something.
She takes a long sip. Sets the cup down. Folds her hands.
