by Max Hudson
That is, unless, Owen has his daughters. Those evenings after work, they simply said goodbye in the parking lot. No kiss, no hug, no holding of hands, nothing. It kills Owen to make Mason stay away from his family, and he can see in Mason’s eyes that it hurts him as well, but Owen isn’t ready for anyone to know.
On one such night, he arrives home to the smell of pasta and garlic. He inhales deeply, reveling in the homey smell. Entering the kitchen, he sees Faith and Grace at the stove and sink, getting dinner together while Rebecca does her homework at the counter. He smiles, just watching them for a moment before heading in and giving each of them a peck on the cheek.
“Smells good, girls,” he says appreciatively.
“Thanks,” Faith and Grace respond in tandem. As he turns to go set his things down, Faith leaves her post for a moment to grab his arm.
“You have a date tomorrow night, by the way,” she murmurs, quietly so that the other two don’t hear her.
“What?” he gasps.
She smiles at him. “Well, you said that you hadn’t been using the dating app, and so I went on there to get you a date. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry I did it this time, but I thought that this might give you a nudge to do it yourself next time. We’re with Mom tomorrow, anyway, so you don’t have to worry about rushing home or anything.”
He gapes at her, unsure what to make of the information he’d just been given. “Who – what, uh, who is this person?” he splutters.
“Her name is Renee. She’s forty-one. She’s a third-grade teacher, and she has two kids. She’s beautiful, too. I think you’ll like her. You’re meeting her tomorrow at Raffio’s at seven for drinks.” Faith stands on her tip toes to kiss her father on the cheek before turning back to the pot of pasta on the stove.
Owen shuffles back to his room in a daze, overwhelmed by the information he’d been given. He desperately wants to cancel it, to just be with Mason tomorrow night, but he knows he can’t. If he doesn’t go on this date, Faith will know. She’ll be concerned and worried that he’s not okay, that he’s lonely, that he’s still hung up on Jenna. None of that is true, but how can he tell her that he’s got someone, that she just can never ever meet them? He’s terrified of what Jenna will do if she finds out, of how his girls will look at him if they knew, of how his congregation will behave toward him if they hear?
He groans, rubbing the back of his neck and sitting on the bed. He brings out his phone, pulling up Mason’s number.
We need to talk later—call you around 10?
The response is quick and concerned.
K. Everything ok?
Ya, just need to talk.
Owen tosses his phone on his pillow, heaving himself off the bed and plastering a happy face on before heading out into the kitchen. He sits down to dinner with his daughters, pushing all anxieties and fears aside while he tries to just enjoy being in their presence. He manages to keep his emotions in check for the majority of the evening, asking each girl how her day was, if they had homework, laughing at their jokes and stories, and settling in with them for an hour after dinner to watch television.
Around nine, he tucks Rebecca in and turns off her light. An hour later, he sends the other two off to their rooms, reminding them both that it’s a school night and not to stay up too late. They head off quickly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before doing so.
As soon as they’re in their rooms, Owen takes a deep breath and snags his coat off the rack, ducking outside and closing the front door as quietly as possible. He dials Mason’s number, and he picks up after a couple of rings.
“Hey,” Mason answers. “What’s up?”
“I don’t…I don’t even know,” Owen stutters, all of the negative emotion he’d suppressed over the course of the evening rushing back and crushing him. “Faith, my daughter, she…she, uh, set me up on a date tomorrow night.”
The line is quiet for a moment. “Are you going to go?”
Owen sighs. “I don’t see how I can’t. She’ll worry if I don’t go, and I can’t lie to her again and say I went on a date with someone that I didn’t go with. But I don’t want to go, obviously. I just want to blow it off and go home with you and listen to you comment on stupid movies that I don’t care about. I…I don’t know what to do here, Mason.”
Mason breathes deeply. “You’re going to go on the date. You’re going to tell your girl that you had a nice time. And then you’re going to come over to my place and let me remind you who your real beau is. Okay?”
Owen laughs, tears leaking from his eyes as he thanks God for sending him a man like Mason. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t thank me too much,” Mason grumbles. “I’m not thrilled about this. But I get it. So. Date, happy daughter, sexy session with Mason. Mm-kay?”
“Okay,” Owen sighs, smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
The line is dead silent. Owen claps a hand over his mouth, cursing himself in his head. He hadn’t meant to say it. The words just slipped out. He normally only really talked to his daughters on the phone, and he was so used to saying that he loves them before they hang up. It isn’t as though he doesn’t feel that way for Mason, though. Early on he’d realized that he loved the man. He just hadn’t wanted it to come out this early, and certainly not over the phone.
He holds his breath, waiting for Mason to say something.
“Well…that was unexpected. And probably unintentional. But, since you’re probably wishing you’d just melt into the ground over there, I’ll ease your suffering. I love you, too, you anxiety-ridden goof.”
Owen releases his breath, relief and warmth spreading throughout his chest. Mason laughs, saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. Owen puts a hand to his chest, smiling giddily and leaning against the house, all thoughts of the cold, of the looming date tomorrow, fleeing from his mind as he basks in the realization that Mason, indeed, loves him, too.
Chapter Thirteen
“So, you’re an actuary?”
Owen starts, bringing his attention back to the present and to the woman sitting across from him. He smiles wanly, nodding. “Yes, that’s correct.”
“Honestly, I’d be bored,” she laughs. “Never been great with numbers. Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s all right, I suppose.”
Renee nods, sipping her wine and looking away from Owen.
Sensing he needs to interject, he gestures toward her. “You, uh, you teach, right?”
She smiles, her face immediately warming. “Yes, third grade. They’re a great group of kids this year. Most years they are, but this group in particular is probably one of my favorites.”
As she continues to ramble on about her class, listing off names of students she likes and dislikes, ones who she sees potential in and ones that are already hitting their strides, Owen absentmindedly stares at her. Faith was right; she is beautiful. The lines in her face don’t detract from her beauty, but rather add character to it. She has deep laugh lines around her face already, and from the little time Owen has spent with her, he can tell that she’s an extremely expressive person. Her entire body is animated when she speaks, using her hands to flourish, screwing up her face to mimic the tone of her voice, and her voice rising and falling with her excitement. She seems truly passionate about what she’s talking about, making her even more attractive. Any other time, Owen would have been enraptured by her, falling head over heels as the night went on.
Right now, though, all he can think about is Mason.
As the check arrives later on, Owen notices that Renee has become far quieter than she had been all evening. Thinking back on it, though, he realizes that she’d been getting progressively quieter as the evening went on, the spark in her eyes dimming slowly and steadily. He winces, feeling guilty. He’s sure it’s because it’s obvious his mind is elsewhere. He’d been so preoccupied with how much of an inconvenience this date is to him, he hadn’t even considered how his behavior would make her feel.
They get up to leave, and he walks her to her car, though he can sense that she just wants to get in her vehicle and drive away. As they reach it, he speaks up.
“I’m sorry if I seemed out of it tonight,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just have a lot on my plate right now.”
“Are you gay?”
He stares at her, mouth gaping.
She nods, narrowing her eyes with a wry smile on her face. “I figured as much.”
“Wa – wait, how – what…”
She rolls her eyes. “I would have just thought there was someone on your mind, probably a woman, except that the only time you looked even remotely excited to talk was when you mentioned a coworker named Mason.” She shrugs, turning to unlock her car.
Panic rises in Owen’s chest. He grabs her arm as she opens her door, forcing her to turn around. “Please – you can’t – please don’t tell anyone.”
Renee laughs. “Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about it. Who the hell would I tell?” She gives Owen’s arm a squeeze. “You were so animated when you were talking about him. I can tell you really care. I’m happy for you. And I think you’d be happier if you didn’t have to go on pretend dates with women for show when you have a guy that you love waiting for you at home.”
She gets in her car and starts it right away, not looking back at Owen as she drives away.
He stands in the parking lot for a few moments, stunned, and heads over to the curb. He sits down, not feeling the cold of the concrete beneath him, and just stares ahead for what seems like eternity.
Chapter Fourteen
A month flies by and Owen barely registers it happening. He and Mason continue on much as they have been, being as discrete as possible, but he can sense Mason getting increasingly frustrated with the secrecy and both are becoming laxer in their shows of affection. Once, at work, Mason had sneaked a kiss in the copy room, breaking apart at the sound of the door opening and both flushing red. About a week later, Mason had been over at Owen’s house. They’d been making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers, Mason’s shirt on the floor and Owen’s pants rapidly coming off, when a key started to rattle in the front door. They quickly dressed and fell off the couch, Mason hustling to the fridge for a beer and sitting nonchalantly at a bar stool. The girls filed in one by one. Owen had completely forgotten that he had them for the next few days. When they asked who Mason was, Owen just said he was a friend from work and he quickly left.
A few days later, he and Mason had their first true fight.
Mason had been silently fuming for a few days after the girls had nearly walked in on them, giving Owen curt replies to texts and stilted conversation in person. After work, they went to Mason’s, turning on the television and settling in with a beer. The room was tense, lacking the gentle banter that usually filled it. When Owen finally mustered the courage to ask Mason if he was okay, he exploded.
“No, I’m not okay!” he yelled, springing off the couch. “We’ve been sneaking around like fucking criminals for over two months now! I’m sick of it, Owen.” He sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. He kneeled down in front of Owen, who had remained stock still on the couch. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to have to hide that anymore. When your daughters walked in on us the other night and you just said I was a friend…it kind of killed me. I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”
Owen sighed, realizing that he didn’t want to hide it either. Mason was right. It was awful, what they were doing. He constantly felt on edge, always felt as though he was doing something wrong, always felt as though he was going to get caught any second. He was starting to lose sleep over it he was so strung out.
He agreed to try to relax a little at least a work, and to consider telling his family over the next month or so.
As he soon found out, though, he wouldn’t get a month.
A few days have passed since Mason’s explosive announcement, and, true to his word, Owen tries to let little acts of public affection happen. It starts with just a brush of the hand, standing closer than usual, small things like that. Owen quickly comes to a realization that sets him free—no one cares. He and Mason get a few looks when they first leave the office hand in hand, but other than that, no one treats them any differently. No one says a word, and no one honestly seems to give a flying fuck what they do outside the office. The realization fills Owen with hope, and it allows him to relax outside of work.
He and Mason go to dinner that Friday night, at the restaurant where they had their first date. This time, they walk in together with hands intertwined, much more openly touching each other and acting like a couple. A weight that Owen hadn’t noticed he was carrying lifts off his chest, and he can breathe easier than he has in months. They continue their meal, warmth and happiness enveloping Owen, and soon they’re getting up to leave. They step outside, and Owen lands on a patch of ice. He slips, but Mason catches him by the elbow, steadying him. Owen leans on him, laughing, and when he looks up, Mason plants a solid kiss on his mouth.
An all-too familiar gasp pierces Owen’s ears. He flinches, looking toward the source of the sound—and he immediately straightens up and out of Mason’s embrace.
Walking toward the restaurant is Jenna and Jake. She stares at Owen, her mouth gaping. He stares back at her, his heart in his throat as his mind races.
“Owen?” she says, her voice strangled as she puts a hand to her throat.
He takes a step toward her, but as soon as he does, she turns on her heel and stalks away, Jake following with a confused look on his face. They hop in their car and Jenna peels out of the parking lot, pointedly refusing to look at Owen as she drives away.
He and Mason stand frozen outside the restaurant. Mason clears his throat.
“Are you okay?”
Owen opens his mouth, but no words come out.
“I’m sure it’ll be all right,” Mason murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down Owen’s arm. “She’s freaked out, sure. I mean, you were married to her. Of course she’s freaked out. But she’ll come around, you’ll see—”
“Mason,” Owen breathes, his vision spinning and blurring. “Please stop.”
Mason closes his mouth, silently walking with Owen to the car.
The ride is quiet. When they arrive, Mason reaches out for Owen. “Owen, talk to me. Why are you—”
Owen jumps out and shuts the door before Mason can finish his sentence, jogging up the driveway and darting inside the house.
He walks into his house in a daze, setting his keys on the counter and shuffling over to the dining room table, just staring out into space. Faith pokes her head around the corner, hair thrown up in a bun, wearing pajamas with little smiling cheeseburgers. Seeing her dad in the room, she comes fully into it, clutching her phone to her chest with her brows furrowed.
“Dad? Mom just called and said she’s going to pick us up right now. She wouldn’t tell me why.”
Owen doesn’t see her, barely hears her. Simply continues to stare into space.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
A strangled laugh escapes his throat, and that’s all it takes for the flood gates to open. Tears fill his eyes, and flashes of the future hit him. Jenna will drag dragging the girls out of here. Screaming. Refusing to let him see his daughters. Whisperings at church. Pastor Joseph forcing him to leave in the middle of a sermon and making a scene in front of the entire congregation. Mason realizing that it was too much drama to deal with and breaking up with him, leaving him alone and shunned and broken.
“Dad, you’re scaring me,” Faith whispers, her voice trembling.
He finally looks up at her, her image blurry through his tears. He wipes his eyes and tries his hardest to look her in the eye. “I’m seeing a man,” he finally rasps.
She nods slowly, taking a tentative seat at the table with him. “Okay,” she says. “I still don’t understand why Mom is freaking out and saying she’s going to take us tonight.”
Owen stares at her,
and another laugh bubbles up. Faith gives him a look, reaching over to him in concern. He takes her hand, trying to calm his laughter.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s not funny. I just don’t know how I managed to be blessed with such an amazing, kind, open-hearted daughter like you.” He squeezes her hand, smiling at her through his tears.
She smiles back at him, rubbing circles in the back of his hand with her thumb. “I had a hunch, anyway. It’s that guy Mason, right? The one who was over here the other night?”
Owen nods, taking a deep breath.
“Do you love him?”
He looks into her eyes, nodding firmly and slowly again.
She returns the nod. “Good. That’s good enough for me. When do I get to meet him?”
His heart pangs. “Maybe never,” he whispers. Before she can protest, he continues speaking. “Get your sisters up. Pack your clothes and be ready when your mother gets here.”
Her eyebrows pull together. “Wait. Is Mom making us leave because you’re dating a guy?”
Owen doesn’t answer, but it’s enough for Faith to cement her conclusion.
“No!” she yells, jumping out of her chair. “I’m not leaving because of that. So what if you love a man? It doesn’t matter!”
He sighs. “It does to your mom. Look, sweetheart,” he says as he grabs her upper arms, forcing her to look at him through her own tears. “The next few weeks or months are going to be ugly. I don’t expect your mom to stay quiet about this or let it go, and she isn’t going to be happy about you girls being near me. Don’t you dare think for a second that I’d ever just lay down and let her keep you or your sisters from me, but for tonight, you need to go with her. You all do.”
Faith’s eyes widen perceptibly. “Mom’s… Mom might try to keep you from seeing us?” Her voice breaks, and Owen’s heart breaks with it.
He reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear like he did when she was young. “Sweetie, I don’t know for sure. I just know that your mother grew up with a homophobic family and it stuck with her. And I know that I need to let her freak out and hold her children tonight. So, please, get your sisters up and get ready.”