I didn’t want to ask it, but my brain sometimes doesn’t seem to listen.
Surprise flits in their eyes at the sudden change.
“What’re you talking about, Gracie?” my mother asks, looking just a little hurt.
Good.
I sit up again and jut my chin in the direction of the crowd around us. “I heard what Jenna said. You never talk about me, and I know why. You’re embarrassed to have me as a daughter.”
Their eyes widen in unison, and they look at one another with unreadable expressions. For fuck’s sake, I hate when they do that.
It’s daddy who speaks this time, though. “Gracie, we aren’t embarrassed by you, sweetie.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. That’s why Jenna didn’t even know who I am.”
“Jenna is a gossiper,” my mother explains. “Once she knows something about somebody, everybody knows the exact same thing. We aren’t embarrassed, but we don’t want the entire town or even the whole state to know our family business. We chose not to tell her because we didn’t want to have to explain anything. We did tell her we have four kids, but that’s as far as we went with her. She doesn’t even know about Tris being an alcoholic.”
I’m still not convinced. “Not just her. You are embarrassed by me, by what I am. Aren’t you?”
My mother’s face softens, and she reaches over the table. I let her take my hand and squeeze it gently. “Gracie,” she says sternly enough for me to meet her eyes. “It isn’t embarrassing to have a child as an addict. It really isn’t. It’s heartbreaking. I’m not saying that to make you feel worse about it; I’m being honest. It’s heartbreaking because you’re our baby, and we don’t want to lose you to those things. We don’t want you to fall back into them. When we were called when you overdosed and when your father found you having overdosed – we would’ve died with you. You’re our baby.”
I press my lips together and look down at our folded hands, the tears stinging the corners of my eyes again. This time, they fall down my cheeks. With my free hand, I wipe at them quickly.
“I don’t want to be an addict,” I finally croak out, sniffling. “I really don’t, and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Gracie,” daddy says and reaches out, squeezing the wrist of my free hand. “Addiction is a disease. It sucks that you were hit with it, but what matters is you’re trying to stay sober. That’s what counts. We’re very proud of you for that.”
I snivel again and pull my hands out of theirs as I glance up in time to see the waiter approaching with our food. Folding my hands in my lap, I watch as our plates are set down, and the two men chat for a moment before the waiter leaves to allow us to eat.
“So, Gracie”—my mother perks up—“tell us about this new guy you’ve mentioned before. You said he has a bike.”
That has my father scowling in annoyance. “No, no bike,” he mutters.
I sniff and giggle at my father’s protectiveness. “He’s the one with the diner. Colton. He’s really sweet and nice. I like him a lot.” My cheeks flush bright hot. “But I also met this other guy, Luke,” I start slowly.
I know better than to mention that they smoke weed a little. If my parents find out about that, they might freak. I get why, and it’s because of that I’m not going to say anything. Besides, the guys respect that I’m sober and don’t pressure me.
“A new one?” my mother asks with arched eyebrows.
I nod and twirl a few red splashed noodles around my fork. I check the sauce to make sure it’s meatless and then take a bite. I chew and swallow, focused on that for a minute before continuing. “He’s helping me.”
“In your sobriety? I thought Tris—”
“Not that,” I cut her off. “He’s helping… figure other things out.”
“Is he the one who convinced you to quit school?” Daddy asks, sounding a little annoyed.
I shake my head and look up at them, setting my jaw. “No, not that either.” I squirm, feeling the discomfort, but I want to have an open relationship with my parents. Besides, going this route will mean I’m going to need them in my corner. I’m going to need their support to understand. “He’s in a polyamorous relationship and introduced me to his girlfriend and boyfriend. It made me realize a lot of things about myself.”
They share another look, and I really fucking wish they’d stop that.
“Okay,” my mother says slowly. “Go on.”
I clear my throat, raising my chin. “I think that’s sort of what I want, in a way. But not like a girl. I want the guys. I know I can’t really do it without them wanting to, but I do know that even if Owen especially never wants me again, I don’t want just one. Colton and Devon, and I do want Owen, but I don’t know if he’ll ever take me back. Or even dump Donna. I don’t know.” I’m rambling now and know it, but I have to get the words out before I chicken out. “You probably don’t even want to hear this or—”
“We do,” my mother cuts me off with a smile. “We’re glad you’re finally accepting yourself.”
I blink. “What?”