“Wow.” Micky couldn’t remember a lot of times in her life when she’d been rendered speechless—only when, bone-tired after labor, her children had been carefully deposited in the cradle of her arms—but this was definitely one of them.
“Life can be funny that way,” Robin said and squeezed Micky’s hand a little tighter.
Whatever happened to no strings attached?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The next Saturday afternoon, Micky invited her mother and Amber over for tea. No big meals would be served, but they would need something to do with themselves. Pastries would do the trick. Amber would be there for moral support. Both the kids and her mother held Amber in such high regard—and she was a lesbian.
“This is very unusual, dear,” her mother said when she arrived. “Do you and Amber have a special announcement to make?” Then she caught sight of her grandchildren, both hanging on the sofa with their headphones on. “Best get those off before Amber arrives.”
Micky’s mother occupied herself with asking how the kids were doing in school while Micky put on the kettle. This was it. Between then and an hour, it would all be out in the open. The knot in her stomach reminded her of how she felt when she and Darren had told the kids about the divorce, though, objectively, this was such happier news she was about to deliver.
The bell rang, and before Micky had a chance to say anything, Olivia shot up and yelled she would get it. Her children effectively already admired a lesbian woman. What could they possibly have against their mother being one?
If only it were that easy.
As Amber came in and said her hellos, exchanging a meaningful glance with her, Micky wondered—again—if she’d made the right decision of telling her mother and her children at the same time. After telling Darren, and the nice things Robin had said to her throughout the week that followed, it had been a quick and easy decision to make. Kill two birds with one stone while still riding that high of her first unexpectedly successful and—admittedly—heartwarming coming out.
Micky felt as though, if she didn’t tell the most important people in her life as soon as possible, her luck would run out. Having them all together in a room, with Amber there to reply to any questions Micky wasn’t knowledgeable enough or too self-conscious to answer, would make it easier for them to process together. But now, as everyone found their preferred spot on the sofa, she doubted her decision. Perhaps she should have confided in her mother separately. Then, she stopped herself. Micky should have and could have done a lot of things differently in her life. This was where it had gotten her, and really, the most important was that they all knew. That she didn’t have to walk around feeling guilty all the time for keeping this vital piece of information to herself.
She poured the grown-ups some tea. Chris sipped from a Diet Coke, much to his sister’s dismay, who got that particular sentiment about her brother drinking diet soda from Amber.
“This all seems very official. I’m starting to worry,” her mother said.
“There’s no need to worry. Nobody is sick or dying.” Micky fidgeted with a packet of sugar. “I, er, just need to tell you something.”
They all stared at her with expectation in their eyes. For comfort, Micky looked at Amber, who nodded at her almost imperceptibly.
She addressed her children. “You know how your dad introduced you to Lisa a few weeks ago? Well, I’ve met someone too.”
Just the night before, Micky had sort of rehearsed this moment with Amber, who had advised her to not practice too much but simply speak from the heart and, perhaps, break the news about Robin slowly. All night and all morning, Micky had practiced a, what she thought, well-balanced but to-the-point speech in her head, only to forget all about it when she needed the words to roll off her tongue now.
Nobody spoke. They were all still watching her as though she was playing a part in the most exciting thriller they’d seen in years.
Micky found Amber’s gaze, but no, she had to look her children in the eye when she told them. Because what did it say about her if she couldn’t even do that? That she was ashamed of who she really was?
“Her name is Robin. I met her at The Pink Bean. She works at a bank, just like your dad.”
Christopher’s eyes grew wide while Olivia screwed hers shut for an instant.
“But…” Chris started but didn’t continue.
“Goodness me,” her mother said.
“I know this is a lot to take in and that for you”—Micky made a swooping gesture with her hand—“it must come totally out of the blue, but, er, I’ve been having these feelings for a while and it’s no longer right to keep that from you.”