Page 45 of Zero Confusion

Soon, this wouldn’t be home anymore. All evidence of Zach’s existence—his collection of sci-fi paperbacks, the clothes that were three sizes too small for anyone else, the glass bison figurine he’d begged his parents to get him on a family trip to Yellowstone—would be boxed up and shoved into the attic. Possibly thrown away. If there was anything he wanted, he had to get it before it was too late.

He ran a fingertip down the glossy spine of his senior-year yearbook. He had no use for most of these things, but each one had a memory attached to it. Like the encyclopedia of Greek gods—a Christmas gift from Jerry, a reminder of the brief time he was obsessed with mythology. Or the Lord of the Rings extended-edition box set. It had been on sale—back when box sets were still a thing—and the cover art had been intriguing enough for Zach to buy it. No one in his family had shown the slightest interest in the movies, and he’d ended up watching them with Miles. A sweet memory, but it’d been years since he owned a computer that could play discs, so it was useless to him.

But Jerry had his gaming console. He could watch it. He probably wouldn’t, but Zach wanted to at least offer.

He checked his phone to see if he’d gotten anything from Miles, but it was unsurprisingly dead. The charger was in the bag he’d left in the back of the rental car. He really should have grabbed it before leaving, but by that point, he’d been exhausted from the long night and overwhelmed with relief at Max’s good news. Besides, it gave him an excuse to see Miles before leaving.

Jerry’s charger would do, though one look at the tangle of cables by his bed made Zach groan in frustration. This year, Jerry was definitely getting a cable organizer for Christmas.

After managing to plug in his phone, he headed down the stairs. As soon as he reached the bottom, his mom rushed out of the kitchen and wrapped him in a cloud of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Did you get enough rest?” she asked, cupping his cheeks with both palms and examining his face. “You can sleep some more. Laura called to tell me all about your long night and how you drove Miles to the hospital.”

“Nah, if I go back to bed, I’ll be up all night.”

She assessed him with a hum of disapproval, and he did his best to look awake. Despite her petite frame and sweet smile, Evelyn Bishop could be an overprotective force of nature. It wouldn’t matter one bit that Zach was an adult—if she suspected for a second that he was still tired, he would find himself thrust back into the bedroom with strict orders to lie down and close his eyes.

Thankfully, it didn’t come to that as she seamlessly switched from one bodily need to another.

“Come on, then. You must be starving!” She ushered him to the dining table and quickly whipped up a skillet of eggs and potatoes sizzling in hot oil. As he ate, she placed a plate of his favorite cinnamon cookies next to him—fresh out of the oven, clearly baked with him in mind.

As she flitted around the kitchen, asking after his classes and nodding along, something tugged at Zach’s chest. From hundreds of miles away, keeping his distance—even cutting all contact—had seemed like the most sensible course of action. But here, in the cozy warmth of his childhood home, with the aroma of bubbling cheese drifting from the oven and his mom beaming at him as though his visit was the highlight of her month, the whole idea suddenly felt foolish. There had to be a way for Zach to live his life and keep his family at the same time. He just had to figure it out.

He lost track of time chatting until Jerry and Abe popped their heads into the kitchen, enthusiastically greeting Zach with a wave before rushing upstairs to wash off the day. His dad, Walter, wasn’t far behind, the familiar scent of sun-baked straw and faint diesel fumes lingering on his clothes as he trudged through the living room.

“Zach.” He nodded at him before heading up the stairs, and Zach might have felt slighted if it hadn’t been for the fact that his entire family was home by six o’clock. In June. During early harvest.

For his dad to call it a day before the sun was well on its way to setting was practically unheard of, and if that wasn’t a show of love, Zach wasn’t sure what would be. He was missed. He was loved. He was a part of his family.

It wasn’t until halfway through dinner that his bubble of quiet satisfaction shattered.

“This tastes so good, Ma.” Jerry’s words were muffled by a giant bite of casserole.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” his mom scolded lightly, simultaneously pushing the platter toward Abe. Despite being a foot taller than Zach and a legal adult, he would forever be the baby of the family. “I picked up some fresh mozzarella at the farmer’s market while I was in town.”

The table rocked as Walter slammed his glass down onto the wooden surface. “The Kellers?”

The sharpness in his voice made everyone look up at him in confusion. The Keller farm was a good hour’s drive away, and they rarely came to any community events, but every Wednesday in the summer, their stall offered a wide variety of dairy products from their cows and goats. Everybody in town bought from them.

After a beat, his mom slowly nodded. “Yes, from the Kellers. What’s wrong?”

“Something about their boy,” his dad said with a grimace. “I don’t like it. He always seemed a little sissy to me, and last month he had one of them rainbow bracelets on.” He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t like you buying from them.”

Zach’s entire body went cold.

Not this again.

Couldn’t he have one nice dinner with his family without the reminder of why he had to escape?

“Sissy, Dad, really? You can say gay, you know.” Jerry chuckled.

His mother sent him a sharp look. “Jeremiah, language!”

“I’m done.” Walter pushed his plate away and stood, his angry gaze flickering to Zach as if he’d just remembered his presence. “I hope you ain’t making friends with people like that. Folks in the city can do whatever twisted stuff they want, but it’s different here.”

Zach lowered his head and picked at the food. Delicious as the green bean casserole had been, he’d completely lost his appetite.

“Anyone up for some apple pie?” his mom asked cheerfully after his dad had stomped to the living room.