“Sure,” she said. “And times have changed.”
Okay. She knew. He relaxed a little. “Yes. True.” When Sam had joined the FBI, there was no question of an agent being out. Back then the closet was everyone’s default. Certainly, everyone in law enforcement.
Ruby added in a thoughtful tone, “Not counting Ethan, of course.”
Boom! And there it was. Jason said nothing.
Behind the laundry-room door, the dogs had settled down to muttering scurrilous things about the company Ruby was keeping.
Ruby scrutinized him. “I guess he told you about Ethan.”
“Some.”
Despite his curiosity, he was pretty sure Sam would not be okay with the direction this chat was going. At the same time, he did not want to offend Sam’s mother.
“I’m not surprised. He doesn’t talk about personal things. Even when he was a little shaver.”
“No. Well.” Repartee. We haz it! To direct the conversation into safer channels, Jason asked, “What was Sam like as a kid?”
“Shorter.” Ruby gave a curt laugh at Jason’s expression. She sounded like Sam in that instant. “Single-minded.”
“Was he a good student?”
“Oh, sure. Always got As. Didn’t even have to try, I don’t think.”
“What was he interested in?”
“Oh, a lot of things, I guess. He liked to read. He was always kind of a know-it-all.”
She said it with pride, though, and Jason grinned. Ruby grinned back.
“Some things never change,” she added.
“It doesn’t help that he’s usually right.”
She cocked her head, considering him. “I guess it’s lucky you think so.”
“I wouldn’t tell him that.”
She laughed. “No. I wouldn’t advise telling him that.”
He nodded at the newspaper and said at random, “So you’re getting a new magic club?”
“I guess so. They’re having some kind of conference here for magicians next weekend. It’s going to be good for business. Were you injured in the line of duty?”
“Not exactly. It turns out fast food really is bad for your health.” She chuckled, but he thought he knew what she must be thinking. “Sam’s job keeps him pretty much out of the line of fire nowadays.”
“Oh, Sam.” She seemed further amused. “Sam can look out for himself.”
Which was surely true. Suddenly Jason couldn’t think of anything to say. He drank his coffee and ate a second cinnamon roll.
“I think we’ll get some rain tonight.” Ruby was gazing out the window.
Jason murmured politely.
“Ethan was an artist,” she said suddenly, turning her gaze on him once more.
“Was he?” The idea had never occurred to him, and he was surprised to find he didn’t like it. Which was irrational. What the hell did it matter what Ethan had been or hadn’t been?