Eventually, the rain lets up, which means it’s time for both of us to go home. We exchange numbers (yay), and then he has to go (not yay). Once he’s gone, I head out back, get on my bike, and ride home through the wet streets of my city.

When I get home, I unlock the door and yell, “Nana! I’m home!”

After about twenty seconds, I get a “I’m in the living room, dear!” and I find her on the couch knitting yet another blanket for the doggos. Benji, our golden retriever, is curled up at her feet, and our Bernese mountain dog, Jerry, is next to her on the couch. 

I sit down in an armchair near her and Jerry immediately gets up to attempt to fit on my lap, like he does every day when I get home from work. This, this is my routine. 

“How was work, honey? And why are you home so late?” 

“It was great, there was this lady who came in named Ethel, and she had the same bag as you.” I debate telling her about Oscar. She knows I’m bi, it’s part of the reason I’m living with her. And she’s a lesbian. But I’m one of the only people who knows that. 

She would understand, wouldn’t she? Probably. I should just tell her. But that makes my queerness even more real. It’s not just something I said, it’s something I am. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Oh, um, yeah. It was raining, is all. I didn’t want to bike home while it was still pouring out.”

“That’s not the entire story, is it?” Why does she always know? After years of this, I’m convinced that she’s some kind of psychic, I mean. How else might this be possible?

“Well, um, no.” Why do I keep saying ‘um’? Why can’t I just tell her? “There was. Um. Well.” And I feel like a dam breaks inside me, because suddenly I just want to tell her everything I know about Oscar. “This really cute boy was there and after my shift ended I sat down and talked with him for a while and he’s so nice, Nana, his name is Oscar and he goes to Hamilton, and I got his number and-”

“Woah, Liam, sugar, slow down. I want to hear all about him, but let’s talk over some tea.”

“Oh, uh, okay, sure.” She gets up and walks to the kitchen, and I follow.