Ignoring my excuse, he asked, “Who else knows?”
“Marco and Becks. Mom and Dad.”
“What the fuck, Cooper?” His outburst caught the attention of everyone in the vicinity, but, undeterred, he continued to glare at me. “Does the fucking mailman know?”
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. I haven’t told Janis or Griff yet.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Just as I’d predicted, my brother focused on the secrecy instead of the secret. “How did Mom and Dad take it?”
“Good, considering Dad saw Ricky and I kiss.” Sam’s expression remained stoic, and I would’ve preferred a scowl or grimace. “They were upset I didn’t confide sooner… not unlike you. But they support me and understand. Not knowing if you would was probably why I cowardly held back from telling you.”
“Well, I don’t,” he conceded. “How can I understand?” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he took a moment to compose himself, again ignoring the glances we kept receiving. When he twisted his head toward me, I waited with bated breath. “I hope you’re happy, as that’s all I want for you… but…” He focused on the bottle in his hand, breaking eye contact. “It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around this, Coop.”
I hated that he wouldn’t look at me, even after I said, “I get it.” The long, uncomfortable drag in our conversation churned my stomach.
Sam had always been there for me, and the possibility he wouldn’t be was hard to digest. But I’d have to let him come to terms with this on his own, and hopefully, with time, he would.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cooper
Shit, I was emotionally exhausted.
Once Sam knew, the next day I called my oldest brother, Griffin, and told him. He took it much as Sam had, shock dominating his responses. The difference: by the time we hung up, I knew my brother had accepted my news and understood my position. The next call to Janis, who took it much as Rebecca had, focused on the love I found and not where I found it.
I didn’t believe it was a coincidence that my parents had come by last night with enough food to feed an army. Except to mention they knew I had told the rest of my family and to ask if things were okay between Ricky and me, the topic wasn’t discussed any further.
I wasn’t sure why I kept the status with Ricky so vague. It may have had to do with not wanting to sound like I was failing at yet another relationship, especially one I’d transformed myself for. Something in me felt protective of what we shared, and I didn’t want to defend Ricky to them. In all fairness, this was a transformation for him no different than it was for me. For me it had to do with sexuality, but for him it had to do with trust.
His entire adult life he’d held on to the belief that someone like Corey, someone like me, couldn’t be trusted. Who could blame him for that? My issue came from the need for him to indeed trust me. I refused to spend a month, a year, a lifetime with Ricky always wondering if he thought one day I’d up and leave. Sure, couples broke up all the time, but if I didn’t address his negativity now, our chances would be even higher right out of the gate.
I already trusted him implicitly and needed the same from him.
Therefore, for all anyone in my family knew, except Rebecca, we were still together even though I needed to be in Jersey for obvious reasons.
Dad and I watched the Yankees as though nothing had changed in my life. I guessed I needed to be grateful for that. A part of me knew he wasn’t intentionally avoiding my sexuality. It was just Dad’s way of handling difficult situations… and mine was as difficult as they came.
For twenty-eight years, my family knew me as one person. It wasn’t unreasonable to expect an adjustment period, nor was it to expect them to all process it in their own way. But the bottom line was they all had. I was just waiting for Sam.
Lydia had called me an hour after I’d left her husband. First and foremost, she’d made sure to tell me how happy she was to hear that I’d found love. The hushed tone of her voice meant she didn’t want Sam to know what she said next, which basically was to give him time. Just as I’d predicted, he was hurt. He couldn’t get over the fact his best friend and brother hadn’t confided in him. I couldn’t fault him for that. Had the tables been turned, I’d feel the same.
That didn’t mean I regretted not telling him. As he accused, I was complaisant. Maybe in trying to console my brother, I might have unintentionally failed myself. That time between Sam’s wedding and my arrival in Florida had started a necessary soul-searching period I’d had to navigate through. I’d put myself first and couldn’t regret that.
And there I was, two days later and feeling antsy for several reasons. Breaking my own rule, I called Ricky.
“Hey,” he said. Did his voice sound throatier, huskier… or was it my imagination?
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just having some wine.” Closing my eyes, I pictured him on his balcony, staring into the dark ocean and wearing that pair of gray sweatpants he loved so much—and probably nothing else. Before me, he claimed no one had ever seen him in those pants. I’d been quick to rib him as to why that was a smart move, since the imprint of his cock left nothing to the imagination. Needing to see him now, I tapped the video call icon, and after a warbling ringtone, Ricky answered.
“Hi.” It was dark enough outside to provide mystery, but he looked sullen and joyless.
Despite his appearance, he leaned toward the camera and said, “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” Scruff, unwashed hair, and dark circles under my eyes made his claim true. “I’m back to tossing and turning and haven’t been able to get much sleep.”
I expected a snide, crude, or even sexual response but instead received a simple, “Me neither.” His admission debunked that the dim evening light was to blame for his appearance. “I’m glad you called. I was about to,” he said, shocking the shit out of me.
“Why?”
My less-than-enthusiastic response caused him to huff. “Do I need a reason to defy your wishes?” he asked on a grin, slipping back into his normal pattern of using humor instead of the truth.
“No, we both know you don’t. I say black, you say white.”
“You wouldn’t want me any other way,” he quipped. I kept silent instead of arguing that wasn’t true. “Why are you breaking your own rules?”
Admitting to missing him sat on the tip of my tongue, but I held back. And no, that didn’t make me a hypocrite. If I continued to enable him by opening my heart as he joked and ribbed in return, he’d never be the person I knew he could be.
“I told Sam… and Griffin and Janis too,” I said.
“Ah… how did it go?”
Starting with my older siblings first, I recapped each conversation while he listened intently. “Sam didn’t take it as easily.” Ricky relaxed on his lounge chair as I told him what had gone down with my brother. “And I have yet to hear from him.”
“Give him time,” he said, repeating what Lydia had said. “He’ll come around.”