by Radclyffe
“Smart guy, although with the crew that she’s got down there, anybody could handle it.”
“Marcus probably knows that too,” Blaise said, “but you know as well as I do what he needs is hand-holding. Treating the anxiety matters sometimes too.”
Flann grabbed the screen door and held it open for Blaise. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve even held a few hands myself. This ought to go on awhile, so hopefully she’ll make it.”
Blaise blinked as she stepped from the shadows of the porch into the brightly lit kitchen, already jammed with people milling about, collecting drinks and food. The yellow plaster walls vibrated with the rise and fall of excited voices. The sounds, the throngs of bodies pressing closer, the sudden claustrophobia had her taking a step back. If she hadn’t sensed others just behind her, inexorably moving inside, she might have backed all the way out the door and disappeared into the anonymous comfort of the warm, dark night. Easier to retreat than steel herself for the inevitable discomfort, and she’d retreated a lot over the years, but she’d usually had better excuses than she had tonight. After all, hard to argue with a baby at home, or a sick kid, or an extra shift at the hospital. All legitimate reasons she avoided parties, even innocent ones like this one. As if there was really any other kind around here.
But she’d never quite managed to shake the anxiety that surfaced with the onslaught of too many too loud voices and the fraying of boundaries that went along with the lowering of inhibitions or plain old carelessness. She took a breath. That wasn’t the here and the now. This was the Homestead, and these were not strangers. These were friends she could trust, and she was careful. Always. With another, easier breath, she plunged into the chaos.
* * *
Grady filled a paper plate with way too much food—wings, a wicked looking mac and cheese with what looked like buffalo chicken bits scattered through it, a nod to well-rounded nutrition with some leafy green salad, and a brownie square that she definitely didn’t need after a day replete with many doughnuts. Somehow, the hours in the crisp air, the lingering excitement from the game, and the general exuberant atmosphere of everyone around her kicked her appetite into overdrive. She grabbed a paper cup from a big stack on a long oak sideboard and filled it with beer from a keg just inside the back door. When she finally turned around, she’d lost sight of Courtney and craned her neck to find her. Her gaze fell instead on Blaise standing just inside the back door, a look on her face that meant she was assessing and considering. Grady was getting to know her looks—not a big surprise seeing how she spent a lot of time surreptitiously watching her. When Blaise appeared to be on the verge of leaving, Grady took a couple steps in her direction. She couldn’t move far or fast considering the crowd around the keg.
“Get everything you needed?” Courtney asked brightly, slipping in beside her. She too carried a cup of beer and a laden plate. “We’re probably still early enough to find a place inside to sit and eat, unless you want to try for the back porch.”
“I’m good either way,” Grady said, throwing one more quick look in Blaise’s direction. Blaise had somehow managed to make it to the long oak table in the center of the kitchen filled with platters and casserole dishes. She wasn’t leaving. Grady relaxed on a surge of relief and focused on Courtney. “Your call.”
“Let’s eat inside,” Court said. “That will give me a chance to introduce you to some people, if you want. Or,” she said with that sly smile, “I can keep you all to myself. However you choose.”
Grady laughed. “Let’s just go eat.”
Courtney’s smile widened. “Follow me, then.”
Grady kept close behind her as the house continued to fill with people, more people than she expected. Teenagers, young kids, and adults of all ages swarmed in the back door, around the food and drink tables, and throughout the downstairs, which was fortunately expansive. The door from the kitchen led to a wide hall that ran all the way through the house to the front door. She could see archways on either side that she assumed went to the main living areas. Courtney adroitly wended her way through the throng, nodding and returning greetings, until they reached the far end of the hall, where she ducked through a set of open, ten-foot-high walnut doors into the library. Dark wood floor-to-ceiling bookshelves flanked a central fireplace with a wide stone mantel. A landscape oil painting depicting a winding river flowing beneath a red covered bridge against a soaring mountain vista dominated the space above. A high-backed floral-patterned sofa stood beneath a trio of front windows, matching armchairs faced the huge hearth set with logs for when the nights chilled enough for a fire, and an oversized desk took up the far end. Taylor, Margie, Blake, and Tim occupied the sofa, legs and arms tossed willy-nilly as they talked and ate. Margie waved a fork in their direction.
“We saved you some floor.”
The teens shifted their feet, and Court and Grady settled down on the floor with their backs against the arms of the sofa.
Grady balanced her food on her lap and looked over her shoulder. “Just waiting for us, right?”
“Right.” Margie grinned, looking a lot like an amused Flann.
“Where’s Dave?” Court asked.
Blake answered, “He just texted me. They’re still with the coaches, reviewing the game.” He shrugged. “He’ll show up sooner or later.”
A pair of steel-toed shitkickers topped by faded blue jeans stopped an inch from Grady’s outstretched legs. A young guy in a Budweiser T-shirt, a bit of scruff along his jaw, a buzz cut, and a burly build stared down at her before fixing on someone behind her. She pulled her feet back a little.
“Hey, Taylor,” he said in a gravelly baritone.
Grady put him anywhere between sixteen and nineteen. Possibly older, but there was still a little softness around his face that suggested the bones hadn’t quite matured yet.
“Hi, Billy,” Taylor said flatly.
Grady didn’t need much in the way of deductive powers to figure out this was Billy Riley, the guy who’d been hitting on Taylor.
Billy said, “Some of us are going to go to a real party in a couple minutes. Why don’t you come.”
Grady didn’t have to see his face to hear the sneer.
“No thanks,” Taylor said, again without inflection.
Tim’s knee where it rested against the back of Grady’s shoulder jostled up and down, but he kept quiet. Letting Taylor handle the guy.
“Come on,” Billy pressed. “There’s nothing going on here, unless you like hanging around with a bunch of old fu…farts.” He snorted. “And queers. But we already know about that, don’t we?”
Grady cleared her throat and set her plate aside. He was big and looming over her, not the best vantage point, and she slowly eased up until she could plant her butt on the arm of the sofa. Not a particularly aggressive movement, but it gave her room to maneuver if she had to.
“Excuse me,” she said. “We haven’t met. I’m Grady.” She held out her hand.
He looked at her, puzzled, as if he couldn’t quite decipher what she was about. He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “So?”
“Well, I thought you should at least know my name. And, by the way, I’m queer.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“Well, since that seems to be important to you for some reason, I thought I’d let you know. Is there anything you’d like to share?”
“What?” His voice rose along with his brows.
“You know, something personal about yourself, since you seem to think that matters somehow.”
He looked at Taylor. “What the fuck?”
“Billy, I don’t want to go to the party with you,” Taylor said. “Or anywhere else. So could you please just stop asking me.”
He shifted his gaze back to Grady. “You’re crazy.”
“It was nice meeting you too.”
“You know, Taylor, you’re gonna find out sooner or later it’s not a smart thing to hang around with…freaks.” He spun on his heel and stalked away.
“That was…awesome,” Taylor said softly.
“Yeah,” Margie echoed.
“I couldn’t let him toss around slurs,” Grady said, reaching for her plate. Court got to it first and handed it over to her, letting her fingers brush over Grady’s thigh as they exchanged a hold on it. “But I really haven’t any interest in escalating anything physical. He is pretty big.”
“Tell me about it,” Taylor muttered.
Grady studied her. “What has he done?”
Margie, Tim, and Blake shot up straight.
“Taylor?” Blake said urgently. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing,” Taylor said quickly. She blushed. “Really, nothing. Just this one time at school…”
Court rose, sat on the other end of the sofa, and rested her hand on the back of Taylor’s neck. “You want to go someplace and talk?”
“No, it’s okay.” Taylor shook her head, her blond hair swirling around her shoulders. “A couple of weeks ago after field hockey practice, I was coming out of the locker room and it was late—five, maybe? It was pretty deserted and Billy…Billy was waiting. He wanted me to go for a ride with him. Get some pizza or something.”
She fell silent, and Blake took her hand. “I’m sorry. He’s hassling you because of me.”
“No,” Taylor said adamantly. “He’s hassling me because he’s a jerk and I said no.”
“Go ahead,” Court said. “What else did he do?”
“Nothing, except…something about him was scary, and I backed up and realized I was right against the lockers, not a great position, but it was too late and he put his arms on either side of me. I was kind of trapped.”
“Did he touch you?” Margie asked. “If he did…”
Taylor took a deep breath. “No. He just…scared me.”
Anger, rage, boiled in Grady’s stomach. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know Taylor and Taylor didn’t know her.
“Did you tell your mom?” Courtney asked.
“No,” Taylor said in a small voice. “Nothing really happened. I promised her I would tell her if anything happened, but that wasn’t something.”
Margie blurted, “Yes, it was. It was intimidating and scary, and someone needs to kick his ass.”
Taylor smiled. “Uh-huh. Well, it won’t be you, shrimpboat.”
“Excuse me, but I’m an inch taller than you are.”
“Maybe nobody should try ass kicking,” Grady suggested. “How about reporting him to someone?”
Taylor shrugged. “And say what? That he asked me to go have pizza with him and I said no? He didn’t do anything. It was just the way he sounded, and those few seconds. Then he backed away, and I left.”
“It’s not safe to be alone with him,” Court said.
“I know,” Taylor said, emphasizing the word. “And I’m careful.”
“It’s true,” Tim piped up. “We’ve got kind of a buddy system going. We all know where everyone else is, and we meet up coming and going to school and stuff.”
Blake said quietly, “But it’s not fair that we have to.”
“You’re right,” Grady said. “It’s not. But sometimes it’s not about being fair. It’s about being safe. And that’s about being smart.”
“Yeah,” Blake said. “Tell me about it.”
“So we’re all agreed that you guys have this under control, right?” Court asked.
“We’ve got it,” Taylor said.
“Okay then, I’m going to get some seltzer.” She glanced at Grady. “I can drive you home if you want another beer.”
“I’ll go with you.” As they worked their way back toward the kitchen, Grady said, “You think we should say something to someone?”
“Blake’s parents already know he’s been hassled, and they’ve talked with him.”
“I sort of got that he’s been targeted. Why is that?” Grady asked.
“He’s trans.”
“Ah. And he’s one of the cool kids too.”
“Yeah,” Court said. “Double whammy. I’m not sure anything we say would make any difference right now, and I’d hate to undermine the kids’ trust in us. They’re doing all the right things. If Blaise knew about the school thing, she couldn’t do anything differently except worry more.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. What about the school board or someone?”
“Carson Harrington—Flann’s middle sister? She’s on the board, and she’s aware of Blake’s situation. She’s a good friend of Blaise’s too, so I’m sure she already knows.”
“Good to know.”
“Hey, Court.” A woman in blue jeans, a short-sleeved blue-and-white checked shirt, and work boots angled her way over to them.
Courtney stopped, smiling, “Hey, Mel. How you doing?”
“Great. Busy. The usual.” She glanced at Grady and back to Court. Curious, and questioning.
“Oh, hey,” Courtney said, “Mel, this is Grady McClure. She’s a new surgeon at the hospital. This is Melanie Cochran—she’s got the farm next to the Rivers place.”
Grady held out her hand. “Great to meet you.”
“You too.” Mel turned back to Courtney. “Listen, when you get a chance, I wanted to let you know about that litter of pups you were asking about.”
“Oh, hey, did they whelp?”
Mel grinned. “Any day now.”
“You’ll call me right away?”
“Sure.” Mel hesitated. “It might be the middle of the night, though.”
“Not a problem…let me make sure you have my cell number.”
“I’ll catch you later, Court,” Grady said, easing away. Court and Melanie might just be friends, but something in the way Melanie focused on Courtney said maybe she was thinking differently. Putting a little distance between her and Courtney might be a good idea before half the town decided they were dating.
“Sure,” Court called as Grady faded back. “I’ll be around if you need that ride.”
Grady made it to the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and drifted out onto the back porch. By some miracle, a rocker half hidden in shadows at the far end of the porch was unoccupied, and she sank into it. The night was too dark for her to see very far down the sloped lawn, but the slap of the river against the shore and the slivers of moonlight reflecting off the water lulled her into a pleasant haze. The lights and noise from the gathering inside faded, and she slowly relaxed, sipping her beer and rocking a little. She hadn’t seen Blaise on the way out. She wondered if she’d left. She wondered if she’d left alone. She wondered when she would see her again. As questions drifted through her mind, she closed her eyes for just a second.
Chapter Fifteen
Courtney stuck her head around the corner into the library. Tim and Taylor had disappeared, but Blake and Margie were in the same place, side by side on the sofa, heads bent over Margie’s phone. Probably texting someone else in their crew. “Hey, have you seen Grady?”
“No, not since she left with you,” Margie said.
“Okay. If you see her, will you tell her I’m looking for her. Mel just got a call from the farm. Sadie is about to deliver.”
Blake shot up as if he’d been ejected from a rocket launcher. “Really? Can I come?”
“I’ll have to check with Mel. You know sometimes the bitches get really touchy when they’re whelping.” The eager look on his face was so compelling, she wanted to say yes right there. But she really did need to check with Mel.
“I know. I can stay way out of the way.”
“Really, Blake.” Margie nudged his arm with hers. “You’re going to ditch a party for puppies?”
Blake grinned, tossed his arm around her shoulders, and gave her a jubilant kiss. “Come on. It’s puppies.”
Margie’s stunned expression almost made Courtney laugh. Wasn’t expecting that, was she?
The wide-eyed look on Blake’s face said he wasn’t either. He vaulted
off the sofa and immediately shoved his hands in his pockets. “Um.”
“Yeah.” Half laughing and half perplexed, Margie frowned up at him. “Like, what was that?”
“I dunno…exactly. Happy?” Blake actually shuffled his feet. “It just sort of…popped out.”
“Popped.” Margie rolled her eyes. “Go watch the puppies arrive. Nerd.”
Court said, “Uh, I’ll just go look for Mel. Come find me in a minute, Blake.”
She backed out of the room, smiling to herself. She’d been a teenager once, and maybe as awkward as them, but she didn’t like to think so. She preferred to see herself in her memory as cool and sophisticated and above being flummoxed by her first kiss. Her first kiss. Archie Camillo. Not a great kisser. Still, she remembered it. Fortunately, she’d soon discovered she much preferred kissing girls, and she was positive she’d been a world-class snogger from the start.
Mel waited out of the way against the staircase leading up to the second floor.
“All set?” Mel asked.
“Just about. Listen, Blake Remy asked if he could tag along. He’s a really good kid, and you know he volunteers a lot at Val’s clinic, so he knows how to be around animals.”
“Sure. We need to go, though, if we don’t want to miss it all.”
“Okay, I can’t find Grady, and I don’t want to leave her without a ride. Let me text her and—Wait a second. Hey, Blaise!” She waved to Blaise. “Talk to you a minute?”
“Sure.” Blaise, holding her cup of wine in the air to keep it from sloshing on her shirt when someone inevitably bumped into her, headed for Courtney. Expecting to see Grady close by, the undeniable relief when she didn’t caught her by surprise. A pleasant surprise for a change. “What do you need?”
“Mel’s retriever is about to have puppies, and I want to be there. I gave Grady a ride over, but I can’t find her. If you see her, can you have her text me, and we’ll figure something out. We need to go right now.”
“No problem. I’m sure she won’t have any trouble getting a ride home, though, but I’ll see if I can find her.”