“So she’s not so pissed with you anymore.”

“No. I guess she likes the fact I might have turned out to be a faggot.” He was laughing, and shrugged. He stilled, his breath in Ronny’s ear. “I know I said I would call. But it wouldn’t have worked. I’d have melted. I’d never have gotten through this year.” It was football he meant, this year of football. He had to do it, it was his last chance to play. Ronny felt a deep release in himself. What did it matter now, if the waiting was really over?

Their heads were together. Ronny kissed his forehead, easy and slow. But he was wary, and so was Ben, because here they were, out in the open. Nowhere safe. “That was some scene back there.”

“In the bar?” Ben snorted. “You should see the shit that goes on in that place.”

“Tate’s not stupid, though. He’s probably got this all figured out.”

“Tate’s had this figured out for a while. He hasn’t said anything but I can tell. And Kathy’s not stupid either. We don’t have many secrets at this point, babe.”

“Can you live with that? It won’t be easy.”

Ben leaned his forearm on the steering wheel. “It’s so easy for you? Can we go somewhere? Back to your place? You still have the same room, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Ben started the car. “This what you want to do? Stay with me tonight?”

“Well, technically you’ll be staying with me.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Oh, horseshit. I had to get dicked up with a fucking lawyer.” Pulling onto the road.

He took Ronny’s hand, gripped it tight. Wiped at his eyes once, then held Ronny’s hand again. All the way back to town.

The Brooch

ON CAMERON AVENUE RONNY SAW MISS Dee at the corner, standing in her nightgown, looking at the stones of the retaining wall near the Carolina Inn, the streetlight stark on her, tiny, fragile, and he said, “Oh my lord, stop the car. Please.”

“What?”

“It’s Miss Dee. I don’t know what she’s doing out here.”

They were within sight of the boardinghouse. But the distance was vast in her terms. Ben pulled over to the curb and Ronny got out of the car. She was a shock, skin so loose, bones so tiny, her hair in disarray, feet pale, blue with the cold. She was looking for something, touching the stones with her fingertips, the thin nightgown fluttering, her body visible, a violation of her, to see her vulnerable like this, all lost. Ben was behind him now. Ronny said, “Miss Dee, sweetheart, what are you doing?”

She was shivering and watched him as though he might hurt her. “Who’s that? Oh, lord, it’s cold as the devil out here.”

“It’s Ronny, Miss Dee. I live in your house upstairs, you remember?”

“Yes, I do think I remember. And look here, it’s your friend. Oh, my, it’s Ben.”

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

“So good to see you. Oh, boys, can you help me? I lost a brooch somewhere. But I don’t know if it was here or not.”