“Will I see you after the play?” he asks.
“Yes, definitely. We’re leaving today, but you’ll definitely see us before we go.”
“Good.” He walks away, holding his mother’s hand. “I had to make sure I liked her.”
“And? Do you?” his mother asks.
“Nope. I love her, just like Ashley does.”
My jaw drops open as Ashley steps out of the bathroom and sees me staring at the door.
You love me?
Ashley hurries over to the door, listening as Kenny’s voice—“Do you think they kiss?”—fades down the hall.
I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed that Kenny is asking his mother about us kissing and mortified that a seven-year-old feels comfortable talking about us kissing when I’m such a chickenshit in public. I don’t hear her mother’s response.
“Told you he has no filter.”
I love her, just like Ashley does. That little boy overwhelms me, in a good way. He loves me even though I want to kiss his sister and my own parents couldn’t seem to.
Ashley and I have a few hours to kill, so we go for a drive and she shows me the elementary, middle, and high schools she attended. We get out at the high school and walk around the brick building just to kill time.
“What was it like being out in high school?” I know she won’t mind that I ask. Ash is like an open book, unlike me, whose true self has been kept under lock and key forever.
She shrugs. “At first it was a little weird. Some people looked at me funny or avoided me for a while, but there were other gay and lesbian kids at school. And I had Bolton. He never acted funny around me. Now that I think about it, he is kind of like Wyatt. He would never let anyone say anything bad, and if anyone looked at me funny, he gave them hell. But I think even if he hadn’t been there, it would have been like anything else in life. After a few weeks it was no big deal. And I had my parents’ support. I think that made everything easier.”
She stops walking and looks at me. “I’m sorry you didn’t have that, Dee. I wish you did, and not just so our relationship could be easier, but for yourself. So you weren’t so conflicted for all those years. I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”
“Thanks, Ash. I wish I did, too, but if there’s one thing I learned in counseling, it’s that I have to figure out how to move forward, because I can’t change the past. Talking to your mom last night helped. She helped me to remember how much I loved hugging my mom and hearing her voice.”
“Well, I’m glad it helped, but if it’s too hard being here, just tell me.”
“No. It’s just the opposite. I like it here. I loved my mom and dad, even though they were strict and even though their views were different from mine. I just…I guess it’s easy to forget the good when I’m wrapped up in the bad.”
We’re walking again, and I don’t even realize I’ve reached for Ashley’s hand until our fingers connect. I wait for the rush of worry to swell in my chest, but it’s so faint I barely feel it, making it easier to push away.
“I’m glad you invited me. Thank you.”
“Me too. I think going home next weekend will be good for you, to gain some closure. Do you want me to go with you?”
“I always want you with me, but this is…I don’t know. I think I have to do it by myself. Is that rude?”
“No. I understand. And if you need me, I’m only a phone call away.”
“Why are you so supportive of me?” I ask as we cross the parking lot toward the car.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she says lightly. “I love you.”
I reach for the car to stabilize myself.
“You love me?” I whisper. I heard Kenny say it, but I didn’t think it was real. Ashley never said those words to me before.
Ashley steps closer and presses her finger against my lips. “I don’t need you to say it back. I just need you to know how I feel.”
You love me.
The words are still tying a pretty little bow around my heart as she continues speaking.
“I’ve been falling for you every second since the moment we met, and I’ve been trying to hold it back because I didn’t want to scare you off, but…”
“Scare me off? You’re so careful with me and protective of me.”
“Seeing you with my family and being with you…” She shrugs again. “I don’t want to hold it back anymore, even if I can’t show you in public. I love you.”
“Ash.”
She shakes her head. “Please, don’t say it now. I know how you feel about me. I feel it every time you kiss me. But please don’t tell me until you can say it without worry of who hears you, because as much as I want your love, I want it free and clear of all the rest of the stuff we have to work through. I want to know that when you tell me you love me—whether it’s next week or next year—that you would be just as confident saying it into a microphone as you would whispering it in my ear.”