Ty sat next to him at the table and held his hand as they all bowed their heads to offer thanks for the meal. Zane squeezed his fingers, wanting nothing more than to be able to hold Ty’s hand whenever they wanted. The fact that Ty had broached the subject of telling his family had warmed Zane’s soul in ways he hadn’t known he’d needed. It might take time, but maybe they would get there sooner rather than later.

Zane dug into the delicious dinner, surrounded by warmth and laughter, feeling remarkably at home.

It was a good while later, with dessert on the table, that Mara cleared her throat and reached out to put her hand on Ty’s forearm. “By the way, I told the minister and choirmaster you boys would be at the service in the morning.”

Deuce and Ty groaned in unison.

“Hey, I’d get to hear you sing,” Zane said, perking up. “Something besides the national anthem and the Battle Hymn.”

Ty growled at him, then looked at his mother. “They have a perfectly good choir. I’m sure they don’t need us.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Deuce asked with a jerk of his thumb at Earl. “He doesn’t sing with his fingers.”

Mara narrowed her eyes at them both.

“Okay, okay,” Ty conceded, holding up both hands. “We’ll sing.”

Deuce grumbled but didn’t argue. The brothers locked eyes and seemed to communicate silently, devising a way out of it. Mara was too pleased to notice.

“As long as Dad sings with us,” Ty added with a shit-eating grin at his father.

Earl rolled his eyes.

“Whatever it takes,” Mara said. She stood and went to the refrigerator. “All of you shitheads need Jesus so far as I’m concerned.”

Zane almost choked on his tea.

“That includes you,” Mara told him. She sat back down with a dish of whipped cream, and Zane waved a hand in acknowledgment as he tried to clear his throat.

Ty was laughing beside him. He patted Zane’s knee under the table and squeezed, resting his hand there. Zane’s eyes were watering, and his cheeks were warm with a shade of embarrassment, but it was okay. Par for the course with the Gradys.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for coffee. Zane sat on one end of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The weather had turned drizzly toward the end of the afternoon and dropped the temperature a little low, even for late June in the mountains. The windows were open, letting in the breeze and the scent of rain.

It was a pretty scene, homey and comfortable. For all that the Gradys had bickered over the construction of the new roof and made fun during dinner, they seemed to enjoy the verbal battles, and there was no tension or malice in the air. Zane could feel weariness encroaching as the breeze and familiar scents seeped into him.

He sat slouched with one arm outstretched off the end of the couch, his fingertip brushing a little cut-glass figurine on the table. It reflected the light as he nudged it, watching it sparkle.

Ty sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch and looking exhausted. Deuce lounged on the other end of the sofa, his feet up on a stool in front of him. Earl and Mara sat on the loveseat across the room. They cuddled together, Mara curled in the crook of Earl’s arm draped over the back of the loveseat. For a couple who’d been together so long and seemed to lack any sentimentality about their marriage, it was an oddly sweet thing. Zane had never seen his parents cuddling.

Deuce groaned. “Ma, what sort of pie was that?” He was rubbing his stomach.

“Bitter cherry. Lucy Hopewell had one at the potluck a week back, and I thought I might try it. It wasn’t good?”

“It was good, Ma,” Ty said, voice flat.

“Where do you get bitter cherries?” Deuce asked.

“Disgruntled trees,” Ty said. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk.

Earl barked a laugh and Mara gave a surprised giggle. Zane studiously kept his eyes on the figurine, biting his lip as laughter shook through him.

Deuce glared at Ty, but Ty returned the look with wide-eyed innocence. “Maybe they need a shrink.”

“I hate you.”

Chester cackled and shook his head. He rocked in his chair, facing the couch from the other side of the fireplace, drinking from a mason jar of clear liquid that Ty had implied was some incredible moonshine. He watched the glass figurine as Zane played with it.

“I gave that to my wife on our fiftieth Christmas together,” he announced, looking at the little angel with a melancholy fondness.

Zane let his head fall to the side as he watched the light play off the glass. “I bet she loved it.”

“She did love a shiny thing, my Evie,” Chester said with a smile.

Earl and Mara both laughed.

“We made it sixty-three years.” Chester raised one gnarled finger and pointed at Zane. “Takes a whole lot of shiny things.”

Zane raised an eyebrow, but smiled, and his eyes strayed to the compass pendant around Ty’s neck. “Keeping anything worthwhile generally does,” he agreed, looking back at the figurine, his eyes skimming over Ty along the way.

Ty wasn’t looking at him, though. He was sitting with his arms around his knees to keep his balance as he rocked from side to side, staring at the rug in the middle of the floor. It was possible he’d already zoned out and wasn’t listening, but Zane doubted that very much.

“Got to find the right fit,” Chester continued. He waved a hand at Mara and Earl, who were watching him in bemusement. Then he looked back at Zane and pointed at him, waving his hand toward Ty to include him. “It’s good you got the right fit.”

Zane wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but he figured he should just be glad that he wasn’t at the top of the shovel list anymore.

“Well, somebody’s got to watch his back,” Zane said, glancing at his partner.

“That too,” Chester said as he began rocking again, hands folded in his lap.

“What are you talking about, Dad?” Earl asked Chester with a laugh.

“All’s I’m saying is love’s a blessing, no matter all the same.”

Ty’s head shot up, and he stared at his grandfather for a moment before looking over his shoulder at Deuce. Deuce shook his head and mouthed something to him, assuring him he’d never told anyone.

Zane forced himself not to move, not even to twitch as he blinked at Chester. It was an implication the old man couldn’t possibly mean. Nerves started cramping his stomach.

Earl and Mara both stared at Chester, looking confused. But then, Chester probably got that look a lot. Chester rocked on for several tense moments before looking around at them all in surprise. “What?” he asked. “Y’all didn’t know they was sweethearts?”

Zane was so shocked he knew it had to show as he stared at the smile on Chester’s lined face. Distantly he thought he ought to be preparing something to say, but he’d gone blank. His eyes searched out Ty’s.

Ty wore much the same expression as he stared at Chester. He opened his mouth to speak and looked over to the loveseat, where Earl was looking at Chester intently.

“Do what, now?” Earl asked.

“Dad,” Ty said as he struggled to his feet.

Earl stood to face him, shaking off Mara’s hand as she tried to tug him back down. Zane sat up straight, though he stayed on the couch. Every warning instinct in him was firing.

“Is that true?” Earl demanded, voice low and deceptively calm.

Ty put up a hand and stepped toward him. “Let’s sit back down and—”

“Is it true?” Earl ground out again, not budging. Mara stood and took a tiny step closer, still looking thunderstruck.

Ty stared at his father, his lips parted. The hand at his side was trembling. Zane curled his fists in the couch cushions as he made himself sit still. He wanted desperately to go to Ty for support, to stand beside him in this moment. It tore him up to know he had to try to stay out of it.

Ty didn’t look away from Earl; he swallowed hard and raised his chin. “Yes.”

Zane felt Deuce shift on the sofa next to him, but no one else moved or made a sound. Mara finally raised her hand to her mouth, her eyes riveted on Ty.

Earl continued to stare at him. “How long?” he asked in the same dangerous tone. It seemed like an odd question to follow up the first with. Ty shook his head, apparently thinking the same thing and not certain how to answer. “How long have you known you were gay?” Earl shouted.

Ty flinched, but he didn’t back away. He opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t.

Zane’s heart ached for him. He’d never seen that look in Ty’s eyes. He wanted to reach out and give Ty a hand, help him get the words out, stand between them to shield Ty from something he knew his lover had dreaded for half his life.

Ty swallowed hard and tried again. He sounded remarkably steady as he said, “Senior year.”

He’d barely gotten the words out when Earl backhanded him. Zane leapt to his feet as Mara screamed, but Deuce stepped over to stop him with one arm across his chest. Mara grabbed Earl’s arm to keep him from swinging it again, but Earl didn’t make another move toward Ty. He actually looked surprised that he’d taken a swing at his son.

“Leave them to it,” Deuce whispered as he held Zane back. He was watching them like a hawk, though, clearly ready to move in himself if things got uglier.

Ty had his head bowed to the side and his eyes closed, motionless after the slap. Then he touched the side of his thumb to the corner of his mouth and looked back at his father as he wiped at his lip.

“That’s for running,” Earl said, his words unsteady.

Ty stared at him, his fingers trembling. Earl had put the whole story together with remarkable speed: That Ty had joined the Marines out of high school to leave home, to run from his family and the truth. That this was the secret that had taken his son from him.

Ty let out a measured breath, nodding as he did so. His eyes never left his father’s. “Yes, sir.”

It was killing Zane to stand aside and watch the tension in Ty. Deuce patted his shoulder but didn’t let go; he knew how Zane reacted to threats to Ty. He wasn’t taking any chances on an all-out family brawl.

Earl moved again and pulled Ty into a hug, squeezing. Ty tensed, but after a second he put his chin down on his father’s shoulder and closed his eyes in relief, returning the fierce embrace.

“I’m sorry, boy,” Earl whispered, just loud enough for the rest of them to hear. He patted the back of Ty’s head with his bandaged hand.

Deuce loosened his hold on Zane, and Zane closed his eyes for a moment. Ty had wanted to tell them the truth, but Zane doubted this was how he’d imagined it going.

When he looked up again, Earl had released Ty and was patting him on the cheek, talking to him quietly. Ty was nodding in a quick, jerky motion, his lips pressed into a thin line like they always were when he was trying to restrain emotion.

Earl had one more word for him and then stepped back. “Okay, son, now take your shot,” he invited as he opened his arms.

“Earl,” Mara warned.

“I got mine, Mara; now he gets his. Take your shot, Beaumont.”

Before Mara could protest again, Ty reared back and hit his father with a wicked right hook that knocked Earl off his feet. Earl struck the floor hard enough to make the plate of cookies on the table rattle, and Ty immediately doubled over, holding his hand and cussing.

“Nice hook, Tyler!” Chester cried triumphantly. “Woo!”

“Jesus Christ, boy!” Earl shouted as he clutched at his nose and wallowed on the floor.

“What is your face made of, Dad, steel?” Ty cried as he held his hand. “Oh my God!”

He turned and stumbled into the kitchen.

“Should have seen that coming,” Deuce muttered.

Zane cursed and followed his partner, unwilling to stay away any longer. What he really wanted was his own shot at Earl.

Ty was rummaging through the freezer, a bag of frozen peas already on his hand as he pulled out another bag. He let the freezer door swing shut as he stepped away and looked at Zane, his hazel eyes wide with the remnants of stark terror. He was shaking from head to toe.

“Baby,” Zane said as he took a few steps toward Ty. All of his possessive and protective instincts were in overdrive, but he held himself back, reaching out to check Ty’s hand instead of wrapping him up in his arms and holding him until he stopped trembling. When Ty was upset, the last thing he wanted was to be restrained in any way.

“That wasn’t exactly how I saw that going,” Ty said. He reached out and pulled Zane closer, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding onto him.

Zane returned the fierce hug, his heart aching for Ty. Fear of what’d just happened had been the driving force behind many of Ty’s decisions and life choices. To have faced it in a moment not of his own choosing must’ve been terrifying. Zane held him, letting Ty hang onto him, cheek pressed to Ty’s while a long minute passed.

“Well,” Mara said from the doorway.

Ty pulled away and glanced sheepishly at her. She stood behind Zane, arms crossed over her chest.

“How’s Dad’s face?” Ty asked.

“Better than yours is going to be if I find out you been keeping any more secrets,” she threatened, putting her hands on her hips. She looked from him to Zane and back. “Is it serious, the two of you?”

It took Ty a moment to answer, but when he found his voice, he said, “Very.”

Mara narrowed her eyes.

“I love him,” Ty said, voice firm.

Mara just nodded, looking between them again. Her expression softened and she made a disgruntled noise, then she walked up to Zane and pulled him by his shoulders into a tight hug. Though he was surprised, he let her do what she wanted. She patted his back and kissed his cheek. “Welcome to the family, Zane,” she said, and the sincerity in her voice made his throat tighten. “I wish I’d known earlier, but if wishes was dollars, I’d be the Queen of Sheba.”