“You did? Congratulations! This is so exciting.”
“Thank you.” I clear my throat. “So anyway, I’m free right now. And we haven’t cooked together in a while. What if I went to the grocery store and got us something to make?” Maybe I sound pathetic right now, but it’s worth it. I don’t want to be alone tonight. My life is completely up in the air. But the only thing I really care about is how much I miss him.
“Sure,” he says softly. “In fact, swing by the house and pick me up. We’ll shop together.”
“Okay, yeah.” My heart gives a happy kick. “I’m on my way.”
Then I hang up before he can change his mind.
Roderick
Here I go again, breaking my own rules. Spending time with Kieran isn’t the problem. He had a crazy, shocking afternoon, and I am here for him. The problem is the hope that’s fizzing through me as I climb into his truck and see his bashful smile. There’s no denying how we feel about each other.
Maybe he’ll become the kind of man who’s not afraid, my poor little heart says.
“So what are we cooking?” he asks as we pull away from the curb.
“I’m not sure yet. Let’s see what looks good. How do you feel about fish?”
He shrugs. “If you’re cooking it, I’ll probably like it.”
Oh, Kieran. He kills me sometimes.
The truck does a careful circumnavigation of the town green and then points toward the commercial strip. It’s a gray, cold day, but the truck is warm. There’s country music on the radio again, because I apparently have a thing for guys who like twangy guitar and heartbreak. But I’m in a sentimental mood, so I don’t even change the channel.
Kieran’s phone rings in the cup holder. “Man, that’s loud,” he says. “Could you silence it?”
“Sure.” I grab the phone. “It’s your mother.”
“I’ll get ’er later.”
“Are you going to tell your family you’re enrolling in the art school?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says. “I already know what my father would say. I’ll save us both the aggravation.”
And now I’m sorry I asked. The phone rings a second time. “It’s her again.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe I’ll call her before we go into the store. Just turn the ringer off?”
I’m doing that when Kieran makes a startled noise. “Did you hear that?”
It takes me a second to figure out that he’s talking about a story on the radio. The announcer is saying, “Country star Brian Aimsley made this announcement onstage in Tampa last night.”
And then I hear my ex’s voice. “I know it will surprise a lot of my fans to hear that I’m attracted to both men and women. But it’s just part of who I am.”
Wait. What?
“And I’m telling my story now, because there might be some fans out there who are struggling with their sexual identity. And I want them to know that it’s okay to be yourself.”
“Christ.” I feel a hot rush of anger, and I squeeze my eyes shut as Kieran pulls into a parking spot.
“Hey, that’s crazy!” He pops the parking break. “I can’t believe he’s bisexual. It’s pretty cool to just announce it like that.”
I make an angry, gagging sound. “No way. Somebody forced his hand. I’d bet you any amount of money that the story was just about to break anyway. In fact—” I grab Kieran’s phone again and unlock it. Then I hastily google Brian Aimsley and watch the screen fill with news stories. I scroll for a second, and then, boom. “Look. It was a gossip rag.” I shove the phone in Kieran’s hand, so he can see the story. “Somebody had pictures.”
At least they aren’t of me.
Shit. They aren’t, are they?
“Oh my God.” Kieran takes a sharp breath.
I go cold inside. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s my dad.”
“What?” For a moment, my mind serves up a strange image of Brian Aimsley making out with Kieran’s dad. But then I realize Kieran is staring at his texts. I lean over to read whatever it is that’s turning his face a gray color.
Kyle: You have to come to the hospital in Montpelier. Dad had an accident. It’s bad. He might not make it.
He drops the phone in his lap and grips the steering wheel. “Shit,” he whispers. “I have to go to Montpelier.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a breath, and trying to think through my whiplash. “Breathe. And how about you let me drive? That way you can talk to him while we’re on the way.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He unbuckles his seatbelt. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I dash around the front of the truck, past the store that we didn’t make it into. Then I climb into the driver’s seat and adjust the seat a few inches forward, because Kieran has the long legs of a giant. “Buckle up. Let’s go.”
During the twenty-minute ride, Kieran speaks with both his mother and his brother. From the one-sided conversation, and snatches of Kyle’s voice, I can piece together most of the crucial information.
Kieran’s dad was alone in one of their outbuildings, trying to fix some piece of equipment. But he isn’t very mobile these days, and some kind of spinning tool caught the loop on the end of a wrench he was holding.
The wrench became a spinning, high-speed weapon, and it slashed Mr. Shipley several times before he got free of it.
“He lost a lot of blood,” I hear Kyle say. “It’s bad. It’s so bad.”
“You keep saying that,” Kieran grinds out. “Why was he screwing around with the PTO shaft?”
“Because he does whatever the fuck he wants!” Kyle shouts. “He doesn’t listen to me. This isn’t my fault. Mom and I were out at the feed store.”
“I didn’t say it was your fault,” Kieran says quickly. “Who found him? Mom?”
“Rexie,” Kyle says. “Rexie saved his life. The minute I got out of the truck, there’s Rexie barking his head off. I knew something was wrong. I dropped everything and ran after him.”
Kieran hangs up the phone before we reach the hospital. He drops it like it’s burning him, and then he leans back in the seat and closes his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbles. “This might kill him.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” I whisper.
“And I feel—” There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “Freaked. I guess that’s the right word. We never got along. Never. He doesn’t even like me. But I don’t want him to die in a farming accident.”
“Hey.” I reach out and grab his hand. “Your relationship is complicated. I get it.”
“Complicated is not the half of it,” he says.
“Don’t think about that right now,” I try. “Just get through this. Get your mother through this. Who else shall we call?” I pull into the hospital parking lot and start looking for a parking space. It has to be big, because I don’t know how to park a pickup truck.