"Come on, Agent Walker, I'll get you a beer or something, and there's probably something to eat in the fridge, if you're hungry."
Drew followed them along the path. Nathan stopped and waited for them to catch up, taking Quinn's hand in his when they came along beside him. And before Drew could react, Nathan threw his other arm over Drew's shoulders. Quinn's arm went around Nathan's waist and they walked like that along the trail. "We were talking about that day and the tattoos. I'm sorry, Quinn. I thought she was far enough away. I wouldn't have said the things I said if I knew she could hear while she was flying through the air on the swing."
"I know you wouldn't. Kid's got a wicked set of ears to go with her mouth." Quinn sighed. "What do we do about that other thing?"
"School gets out in a couple of days. I don't know. We can't make people not talk. They don't realize their kids can hear, or maybe they don't care. What do you want to tell her about us? Is she even old enough to understand?"
Drew felt like a third wheel listening to them talk. Nathan's arm around him made him uncomfortable, but he didn't want to insult the man by throwing it off. "Ask her what she knows and go from there," he suggested helpfully.
"She knows we love each other. She knows we sleep together. She knows other parents are not like us. It's not as simple as knowing when other kids know something different." Quinn sighed. He reached over Nathan's shoulder and laid his hand on Drew's shoulder, patting it as if he understood. "We could take her out of school."
"And do what with her? I'm not homeschooling anyone. Mama loves her, but damn, even Mama has to escape occasionally. Sorry, Quinn." Drew was so close he could feel Nathan's laugh rumble. Sweat trickled down his back.
"She is relentless. We put her in public school so she could have kids to play with. The closest private school is in Chattanooga," Quinn replied slowly.
"It would be the same there too."
"We could move to LA."
Nathan stopped for a moment. "We could. It would be different. No one would call us sinners there. But is it the best option in the long run? Here she has home, roots, and family. But is that enough to offset hearing her dads called faggots by her classmates?"
"Shit, Nate. Why do you have to be so argumentative? Just say you don't want to go."
"I didn't say I wouldn't go. I'll go if that's what's best for Emma." Nathan dropped his arms. Drew could feel the tension between them, but he was drawn into the conversation whether he wanted to be or not.
"You'd do that? Give up the job, move to California? Just like that?"
"If that's what it takes, Quinn. Don't look at me with those pitiful eyes. It was different then. Shit like this wasn't something I considered then. If it's best to take Emma away from here to protect her from what we are, then we'll do that. I'm not a completely selfish bastard, you know."
"I know. Jesus, what do you think, Drew? What would you do if it was your kid?"
Startled, he didn't know how to respond at first. "Well, I don't have a kid so I don't know what I'd do. Whatever I had to do, I guess. But I'll tell you what I see: People are the same pretty much everywhere. It might not be that she has gay parents in LA, but there will be something. There is always something. Nathan is one scary-looking beast. You sing country music. She has pink Reeboks when everyone else is wearing purple Nikes. Who the hell knows? Kids have always been like that. Think about when you were in school."
"He's right. We've known the people here all our lives. They accept us to our faces, but you know they talk at home. Everyone says what they think at home. We can't protect her from everything." Nathan pushed his half-dry hair back from his face as he looked back and forth between them. "Christ, Walker, you must have the patience of a saint to listen to us stand out here and bicker like a couple of lunatics."
"Reminds me a little of my parents. I heard more or less the same thing growing up. Little Mexican half-breed. God, how my dad hated that. He kept threatening to move out of Tennessee too."
"I thought you said he's Puerto Rican?"
"He is. That's what pissed him off the most, being called Mexican because his native tongue is Spanish. It's not the same, I know."
"Close a-damn-nuff," Quinn said, looking at him as if he'd never seen him before, much like Nathan had done that afternoon. "Bigots are bigots. You're getting ready to go in undercover, aren't you? That's why you're here alone?"