Chapter Twenty-Two

As Gray had so recently been reminded, moving is a nightmare. Packing up all the trappings of a life into a series of boxes, debating what memories to keep and what to throw away, unearthing mysteries and mostly unpleasant surprises, only to unload it all again shortly afterward is an exercise in emotional and physical torture.

The challenge had been all the more harrowing a few months earlier, when Gray had to separate her life in Tulsa from her partner's, one item at a time, wondering, Who paid for this decorative basket? Had she chosen that candle scent? When had their important documents gotten shuffled together like a stack of cards? Each drawer held an existential crisis of what belonged to Gray and what belonged to McKenzie, which parts of their life had been shaped by whom. How could she separate a decade of shared decisions, ten years of gluing their lives together a piece at a time? And even more, how could she do it alone over a couple of evenings while McKenzie was out working weddings with all of Gray's friends?

Ultimately, Gray had erred on the side of minimalism, taking the things she absolutely needed or that were hers from before they met. The rest she left so that McKenzie could keep living her normal life in their once-shared home without searching for the scissors or the hand towels or the extension cords only to find they had disappeared along with Gray. Leaving the house mostly intact felt a bit like an apology for blowing up the life they'd created. Sometimes, though, she did wonder if leaving McKenzie in a house full of their nostalgia-laden belongings was its own form of torture. That wasn't how she'd intended it, at least.

But as she moved out of Cherry and Robbie's garage apartment, it was a bit shocking to see that her almost thirty years of life had amounted to only a small pile of boxes and furniture, hardly even justification for hiring the two-person moving crew and truck. She'd taken the whole day off work to move, but the movers were in and out in under two hours, leaving her the rest of the day to unpack. Most of that time was spent shuffling the same few pieces of furniture back and forth as the afternoon light shifted across the wooden floors. It was a novelty to organize and decorate her space without caring what anyone else thought.

Of course, the novelty quickly morphed into frustrated indecision. Should the bed go under the window for optimal sun? Or across from the door to create more open space? Overwhelmed, Gray decided to take a break and check her work inbox on her phone. She was halfway through writing a response to an email from Veronica when she decided she could kill two birds with one stone—or rather, one phone call.

"This is your last warning before I contact your parents again, Ian," Gray heard Veronica's voice saying distantly on the other line once the call went through. "I don't want to hear anything more from Mrs. Sanderson about you causing disruptions in class, especially regarding hidden mason jars. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Principal Taylor," a tiny voice said.

"Good. Close the door on your way out, please." Gray heard a click, then Veronica's voice sounded loud and clear. "Gray. Hi."

"Mason jars?" Gray asked immediately.

Veronica sighed. "The fifth-grade American history class just learned about Prohibition and seems to have developed a fascination with moonshine. One student has been trying to convince his classmates that his concoction of Dr Pepper, grape juice, and old ketchup will get them drunk."

Gray burst into laughter. "Sounds like you might have inspired the next Jim Beam."

"It would be funnier if his friend hadn't vomited all over the gym after trying it," Veronica said grimly, although Gray could also hear her smile through the phone.

Gray got back to business, answering a few questions Veronica had emailed her about how to announce the bank-sponsored scholarships to the board, now that they were officially in the works. "I'll write a draft memo for you, maybe some FAQs," Gray offered once they'd agreed on a plan. "I can have them on your desk in a couple of days. It can be first order of business once I finish my move."

"The move!" Veronica said. "How's it going? Oh, you shouldn't have called me while you're supposed to be off work."

"No problem. Talking to you hardly feels like work," Gray said. "And it's going pretty well. The movers you recommended were fantastic and superfast. Now it's just me, begging my furniture to tell me where it's supposed to go. The bed is being particularly tight-lipped."

"Against the wall across from the door, obviously," Veronica said.

"Whoa, I've been staring at this room for an hour but you just know like that?"

"It makes sense. It gives you more space for a bedside table, and it won't block your access to opening the window. More floor space too."

Gray snapped her fingers. "I thought about the floor space part, but the rest didn't even occur to me. You know, if you ever get tired of this principal thing, you might have a future in interior design."

"I think interior design takes a little more skill than knowing where to put a bed." Gray heard Veronica's desk chair squeak like she was leaning back. "Anyway, your birthday's sneaking up on us. When's your Aquarius date?"

"Tonight at five," Gray said, plopping down in her armchair and imagining she was sitting across from Veronica in her office. "At the art museum in City Park. Kristen. She's working on a PhD in anthropology at Tulane. Seems pretty cool."

"Oh, an academic," Veronica said in a singsongy voice. "I was already rooting for Aquarius, but she sounds like a real winner. I better let you go so you can get your apartment together. If things go well, you may want to invite her back for a nightcap."

"Don't you put that pressure on me, Veronica Taylor!" Gray said in a faux chiding voice. "But I probably should run. Thanks for the design advice. I'll see you soon."

"Good luck tonight!" Veronica said before ending the call.

Buoyed by Veronica's Aquarian enthusiasm, Gray got her furniture settled and a few pieces of art on the walls. She wouldn't want a messy apartment to get in the way of astrological magic, if this really was her destiny. And even with all the unpacking she accomplished that afternoon, Gray still managed to pick an outfit—a simple but flattering maroon Henley, jeans, and the same boots she'd worn to visit Madame Nouvelle Lune—and arrive at the art museum five minutes early. Gray settled down on a bench beside the front doors and arranged herself in a casual pose that boldly declared "eligible lesbian bachelor."

Five minutes ticked by as Gray smiled at anyone who looked even a bit like Kristen's profile picture on Mercurious. Then ten minutes. At fifteen minutes after their designated meeting time, Gray double-checked her chat history with Kristen to make sure she was at the right spot, then messaged her to ask if they were still on for the date. It wasn't until another ten minutes after that missive that Gray started to feel the dull burn of being stood up.

Gray was pacing the sidewalk in front of the museum, wondering how long she should wait before giving up, when her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket eagerly expecting a note from Kristen saying she would be there any moment, but instead found a text from Veronica.

How's it going? Is your Aquarius living up to my high expectations?

Gray typed out a response, a bit embarrassed of her truthful answer.

She didn't show and isn't answering my messages, so either she got abducted by aliens and the spaceship doesn't have wifi or I got ghosted.

Oh no! And with only four days until your birthday!

Doesn't she know you're on a deadline here?

I don't tell my dates about the astrology thing, so no, she doesn't.

The dots indicating Veronica was typing appeared and disappeared a few times. Gray assumed she was struggling to come up with sympathetic words, or perhaps laughing at her misfortune. After another minute, a text came through.

Are you still at City Park? I happen to know an Aquarius without plans this evening.

Really? I'm still here!

Okay, sit tight.

Gray's disappointment rocketed right back up to eager anticipation. Maybe her birthday deadline wasn't impossible after all. Who was Veronica sending her way? Would it be weird for Gray to go on a date with one of Veronica's friends? Did Veronica even have other queer friends besides Gray? And how was she going to know who her date was when she saw them?

After another fifteen minutes of anxiously waiting, Gray saw a beautiful woman in the distance and hoped it was whoever Veronica contacted. The woman was wearing a green sundress that billowed dramatically in the wind, sunglasses, and a wide-brimmed hat that partially blocked her face. Her dark hair swung loose above her shoulders and she had a casual swish to her walk that kept Gray's eyes on her as she drew closer. Something about her gave off the vibe that she could be friends with Veronica. In fact, she kind of looked like she could be Veronica's sister. Actually…Wait. Was that Veronica?

"Gray!" She said as she approached, waving.

Shit.And also, thank god. It was Veronica.

Gray stood, and Veronica's hat brushed her cheek as she leaned in for a hug. Her nerves dissipated in Veronica's embrace.

"Sorry you got ghosted," Veronica said once she pulled back, grabbing Gray by the elbows. "Have you been stood up before?"

"Nope, first time."

Veronica tilted her head. "You're kidding! Well, I guess dating when you're gorgeous really is different. I've been ghosted on at least half the app dates I've ever tried to go on."

Warmth rushed to Gray's cheeks. "Anyone who ever skipped out on a date with you is a nitwit who should regret their decision for eternity."

"Good thing you didn't make the same mistake," Veronica said with a grin.

"I didn't realize the Aquarius with no plans was you," Gray said, still surprised but not disappointed.

"Well, I figured you were in a pinch," Veronica said, readjusting a tote bag on her shoulder. "Karys is at her dad's tonight, so I'm free to help you out. Since you're racing the clock and all."

"That's very kind of you," Gray said cautiously. "But does it even count as a date? I'm supposed to find, you know, someone who could actually potentially be a romantic match. Someone available and queer."

"Last I checked, I'm exceedingly single and bisexual."

Gray's jaw dropped.

Veronica, taking in Gray's shock, laughed. "Be careful or you'll catch flies."

Gray snapped her mouth shut and tried to mask the fact that her brain was actively exploding. "I'm sorry. I mean, good for you. I mean, fuck. I'm just…surprised, I guess. You never told me."

"You never asked."

"You're right. I've just been over here, relearning what happens when you assume." Gray offered her arm to Veronica. "Shall we check out the museum while I remove my foot from my mouth?"

Veronica took Gray's arm, luckily looking more amused than offended by Gray's discombobulation. "Let's skip the museum for now. I have a better idea."

They took off in the opposite direction of the museum, Veronica pointing them toward a calm lake surrounded by gnarled old trees and a few eye-catching sculptures. While Gray's mind reeled, rethinking every encounter they'd had and trying to figure out how she had missed Veronica's queerness, her date seemed completely at ease.

"Wow, this is beautiful!" Gray said, trying to ground herself in the moment. The early evening light was beginning to fade, illuminating the surface of the lake with reflections of the pastel-painted sky. Gray pointed toward a few empty picnic tables. "Are we going to sit down and enjoy the view for a while?"

"Yes, but not here."

They stopped for a moment to watch a duck and her trail of tiny yellow ducklings floating across the surface of the lake, then continued around the curving path until they came upon an old oak tree, its branches spread wide and dotted with freshly emerged green leaves. As Veronica guided Gray off the path toward the tree, Gray heard a mesmerizing, ghostly kind of music. It was all-enveloping, so enchanting that at first she couldn't tell if the sound was coming from somewhere or emanating from her own body. The closer they got to the trunk of the oak, the louder the sound got, as if the tree were calling to her.

"What's that sound?" Gray asked.

Veronica pointed to the branches of the tree, where Gray could now see clusters of black metal tubes hanging and drifting in the wind. "Wind chimes," Veronica said, her soft voice blending into the strange music. "Dozens of them. Installed by some local artist, all selected to ring in the same scale."

Gray stood wordlessly in the majesty of the tree for a moment, Veronica still holding her arm as she absorbed the echoing clangs of the wind chimes. "It's remarkable," she said finally, feeling the sound ring through every cell of her being.

"It's called the Singing Oak." Veronica dropped her head onto Gray's shoulder and closed her eyes. "It's one of my favorite places in the city. It's no secret—plenty of people know about it—but it still feels like it's all mine, in a way. At least the music it makes when I'm here is always unique."

"I see why you like it," Gray said, her hair rustled by the same wind playing the chimes. "I could sit here and listen to it for hours."

"Lucky for you, I brought a blanket." Veronica pulled out a sheet of blue-striped fabric from her tote bag. Gray helped her spread it on a patch of grass under the farthest-reaching branches of the tree. "City Park closes at sunset, but we've got a little while before then. Almost an hour, I'd guess," Veronica said.

They settled down on the blanket, side by side, looking out at the lake. The sound of the wind chimes grew and faded with the shifting breeze, mixing with the songs of the crickets and katydids. "It feels like a movie score," Gray said after listening for a minute. "Like we have our own theme music."

"And with the sky like that?" Veronica leaned toward Gray, her finger tracing a tuft of peach-colored clouds floating across the lavender sky. "Definitely a movie moment."

"You sure know how to impress a date." As soon as the words left her mouth, Gray froze, her shoulder bumping against Veronica's. "Is this a date? Or a friend date? Or a…something else?"

"You've got a challenge to complete, so it's definitely a date," Veronica said. "And we're also friends, right? So I guess it's a date between friends."

"A date between friends, of course." Gray didn't feel like that had answered her question in the slightest, but she didn't ask for clarification. Looking at Veronica now, with the sunset giving her a soft, warm glow, Gray liked the idea of leaving the door open to something more.

Veronica sat up and reached for the tote. "Are you hungry? I picked up dinner on the way." She pulled out two sandwiches wrapped in paper. "Muffaletta from the deli around the corner from my place."

"I'm starving," Gray said, accepting one of the parcels from Veronica. "Thank you for thinking of everything."

Between bites, they chatted more about Gray's new apartment and Veronica's plans to renovate her back patio. Gray was still confused about the nature of their date, but she was more at ease than she had been with any other sign so far, even when she'd had the help of an edible with the Libra.

When they finished their sandwiches, Veronica pulled out two plastic containers and handed one to Gray. She opened it to find a cinnamon-scented slice of a sweet roll, topped with a glaze and dusting of purple, green, and yellow sugar. "Is this king cake?" Gray asked.

"Yes, homemade," Veronica said as she handed Gray a plastic fork.

"Wow! Thank you. But, uh…Wasn't Mardi Gras, like, almost a month ago?" Gray asked, cautiously poking at the cake.

Veronica laughed. "Don't worry, it's fresh. Like a true New Orleans kid, Karys absolutely adores it. She made a whole PowerPoint presentation last year about why king cake shouldn't only be for Mardi Gras. She said it's basically cinnamon rolls, and I couldn't really think of a good argument against that, so I make it pretty often."

"A slideshow and everything? Wow." Gray took a bite, relishing the perfect combination of soft doughy bread, warmly spiced filling, sweet glaze, and crunchy coarse sugar. "You know, I think Karys is onto something," Gray said. "I could eat this every day."

"She is a pretty smart kid, huh?"

Gray couldn't help but smile at the proud look on Veronica's face as she cut a bite of her dessert. "She's the best," Gray agreed. "I feel really lucky to know her. And especially to get to watch you with her. How you create a safe, loving environment for her to explore the world and flex her creativity and build empathy. It's incredible, really. I hope I can be a fraction as good at parenting as you are someday."

"You will be," Veronica said, lifting the brim of her sun hat to look directly at Gray. "I see you with River. I mean, I even believed he was your kid for a minute. He obviously loves you and trusts you and looks to you for help when things go wrong, and that's not easy with a toddler." She paused to take a bite of cake. "So you really want kids? Even after living with one almost in his terrible twos? And after seeing what a nightmare dealing with schools and other parents can be?"

"I really do." Gray set her cake aside and leaned back on her elbows. "More than anything else, really. I know life with kids is messy and unpredictable and challenging, but it's exactly the challenge I've always wanted. To introduce them to the world, and encourage them to be exactly themselves, and love them through whatever challenges they face." Like a good luck talisman, her old softball teammate's moms appeared in her head. "And a partner who wants that too. Someone I can love fiercely and grow alongside and share big important events and tiny inconsequential moments with. Someone to help our kids develop into thoughtful, empathetic adults, even if they like different things or make different choices than we would. As long as our kids are kind and openhearted, they'll be perfect to us. That dream has kept me going through the darkest days."

She could feel Veronica's gaze on her, waiting for her to continue, but Gray sensed it was more of a patient, open presence, ready to listen to whatever she wanted to share, not at all judgmental. With the ringing of the wind chimes drowning out the rest of the park, Gray felt like they'd found their own private corner of the world.

"My parents wanted perfect children too, but their idea of perfect came with a lot more conditions," Gray said after a moment. "They wanted kids who looked like them, spoke like them, acted like them, believed what they believed. I never could follow all of their rules or be who they wanted me to be, even when I was hardly older than River. The more I pushed at the borders of what they thought was ‘normal,' the more they tightened the rules, and the smaller my world got. Thank god I had Cherry. There were some days I felt like she was the only person who got me, you know?"

"Cherry sounds wonderful, from what you've said about her," Veronica said, lying down on her side next to Gray and resting her head on her fist. "I'd love to meet her someday."

Gray pictured Cherry's fire-engine-red hair and chaotic energy next to the Veronica she'd met that first day at the middle school, stern and rule following. It was a strange combination. But then she looked at the Veronica in front of her today, lounging in her sundress, relaxed, open, easygoing. Veronica had proved over and over again that there were more layers to her than Gray ever expected. "Yeah, I think you'd like her," Gray said. "Anyway, growing up in my family was tough, to say the least. My brother, he got into plenty of trouble, but he was into the whole church thing. And the rules were a little easier to follow as a boy. He was always their pride and joy, and I was always the disappointment. I don't think my parents were intentionally cruel. They cared about me. But they thought loving me meant fixing me. And if I wouldn't let them fix me…Well, when I came out in high school, they made it clear that I couldn't be gay and their daughter. It was one or the other."

Veronica made a sympathetic sound, but Gray couldn't meet her eye.

"They sent me to conversion therapy, which was exactly as terrible as it sounds. At least what I saw of it. I spent most of the time sneaking out with Cherry's help. It was actually a little fun for a while, lying to make my parents think the therapy was working while really Cherry and I were gallivanting around town. There was one time in June before senior year when I was supposed to be at therapy but actually went to Tulsa Pride and kissed four different girls. That was a good day." Gray sighed, the memory still bittersweet on her tongue. "But six months later I had a blowout fight with my mother and told her the truth. I'm gay, and no amount of church or counseling or rule enforcing was going to change it. She sobbed. I'd never seen her cry so hard, like I'd ruined her whole life, just by being me. ‘Now you'll never give me grandchildren,' she said." Gray scoffed. "Like being a lesbian makes me infertile or incapable of adopting or something."

A particularly strong burst of wind set the chimes above them into motion, and Gray took a moment to readjust onto her hip, mirroring Veronica's position and looking directly at her big brown eyes.

"Well, I'm going to have kids," Gray said. "A ton of them. The coolest, weirdest, most amazing, wrapped-in-love kids you've ever seen. But she had something right—they'll never be her grandchildren. My children will know that family means love without conditions, support for whoever they are or choose to be, as long as they're also putting kindness into the world instead of hate. I'm going to have the most amazing family, each kid perfect in their own way, and I won't give her the opportunity to dim their shine like she tried to do to me."

Veronica stared into Gray's eyes for a moment, an emotional expression on her face, then reached out to tuck a stray lock of Gray's dirty-blond hair behind her ear. "Gray, I'm so sorry your family ever made you feel like you were anything less than wonderful. They didn't deserve all of the magic that you are."

Gray swallowed what could have turned into a sob, instead focusing on the way the vibrant sunset was turning Veronica's face into a watercolor painting. "Thank you, Veronica. I think you're pretty magical yourself. I hope your family saw that."

"Oh, I was lucky in the family department." Veronica pulled her sun hat from her head and tucked it under the tote bag, then continued. "My mother's family is super close, even though most of them still live in the DR. My brother and sister and I try to get down there to see them at least once a year or so. My dad, though, I think his family experience was closer to yours. His parents didn't approve of him marrying a Dominican woman. I think he shielded us kids and my ma from the worst of them though, and Ma has enough family to make up for them not being in our lives."

"Your parents…Do they know you're bi?" Gray asked.

"Oh yeah, they know," Veronica said. "I came out to them in grad school, when I had a pretty serious girlfriend. They were really supportive, having some experience themselves with being in a relationship outside of societal norms." Veronica shifted her hips, moving even closer to Gray. "I think me being a lesbian might have been a little easier for them to understand though. They didn't get the whole bisexual thing, thought it was more transitional, especially when I was bringing a woman home for the holidays. When I met Dylan a few years later, they were really thrown for a loop. But I think they've done some self-educating since then, and they're the first to speak up now whenever they hear someone say something biphobic."

"So they're still together?"

"They had their fortieth anniversary last year. I caught them making out in a closet like a couple of teenagers when I was visiting for Christmas."

Gray laughed, Veronica's story clearing any lingering sadness from her mind. "They sound amazing."

"They are. The way they raised me and my siblings, it kind of sounds like what you were talking about. You would probably thrive in the chaos of our DR reunions. Do you speak Spanish?"

Gray shook her head with an apologetic expression.

"Well, you and my dad could sit in a corner together trying to piece together what's going on while we're all talking over each other," Veronica said with a teasing grin.

"You'd have to give me a little warning so I could do a crash course in Spanish first," Gray said, delighted by the very idea of seeing what version of Veronica appeared with her family. Another burst of wind shifted the chimes in the oak branches above them. Gray looked up to see the sun approaching the horizon, reflecting its rays across the rippled surface of the lake as a few people walked or jogged around the perimeter. "I'm pretty sure this is the most perfect sunset I've ever seen," she said. "The colors are so vibrant, the way they're lighting up all these old oaks. And oh my god, do you see all these fireflies?" Little bursts of glowing golden light floated around them, one only a few inches behind Veronica's head.

"I'm enjoying the view from here," Veronica said.

Gray looked back to see Veronica was now less than a foot from her face, staring intensely into Gray's green eyes, her dark hair rustling in the wind like the leaves above them. Something had evolved between them as the sun moved lower in the sky. Gray wondered if the wind chimes had hypnotized her somehow, if the colorful sky and scent of spring blossoms were playing tricks on her.

"Maybe you were onto something about Aquariuses," Gray said, her voice hardly raised above a whisper. "This is the best date I've been on."

Veronica reached out and ran her fingertips from Gray's shoulder down her sleeve, across her wrist, tracing the crevices of her palm. "Since this is your chance to test astrological compatibility…could I kiss you?"

Gray's knee bent forward, bridging the gap between them and brushing Veronica's thigh. "It is a learning opportunity," she said. "Yes, I think we should. Academically speaking."

They both leaned in ever so slowly, Gray brushing Veronica's hair delicately aside and Veronica's hand resting on Gray's hip. Neither blinked as their faces came within six inches of each other, then four, then two. Their eyelashes fluttered shut just before their lips met, gentle, tentative, questioning. As softly as they'd started the kiss, they each pulled back the tiniest amount and opened their eyes, examining the other for a sign that they'd crossed a line and wanted to stop. But instead of finding resistance, they found matching expressions of longing. Every cell of Gray's body was telling her to lean in, to kiss Veronica again, to hold her tight and never let go. And based on the way Veronica pulled Gray forward for a kiss more heated and passionate than the first, her body must have been telling her the same thing. Had this chemistry been here all along, building between them, just waiting for the tiniest spark to catch flame?

As their bodies met, chest against chest, Veronica's knee tucked between Gray's, their lips locked together, the sound of the wind chimes swelled around them in a particularly strong breeze. The oak branches shuddered, dropping a few verdant leaves on the couple below. Their kiss could have lasted for minutes or hours or days, even years, their bodies becoming one with the tree roots beneath them. Nothing mattered but the feeling of Veronica in Gray's arms, the shared heat between their skin, the cinnamon-sugar taste of king cake on Veronica's tongue.

But the world did exist outside of their embrace, as they were eventually reminded by a park employee driving by on a golf cart. "City Park closes at sunset. Please make your way to the park exits," they announced over a loudspeaker attached to the vehicle.

Veronica and Gray carefully extricated their limbs, a bit stunned to find how lost they'd gotten in each other. They sat up wordlessly, straightening their clothes and adjusting their hair.

"That was the best science experiment I've ever done," Gray said, breaking the silence.

Veronica laughed. "Even better than baking soda volcanoes. And that's a high bar."

Together, they packed up the remains of their picnic into the tote bag, then shook off the blanket and folded it. Feeling a bit like her body was full of helium and she might float away, Gray offered Veronica her arm. "Shall we?"

Veronica looped her hand through Gray's elbow and they set off back around the lake toward the gravel parking lot. Although they'd walked the same way when they first arrived, something about their body language and tension was different now, more intimate. They walked slowly, silently, both unready to see the last sliver of sun disappear into the dark. When they reached Gray's car, they came to a stop and turned to face each other, Veronica's hand clinging to Gray's. Their gaze said something in a language their ears couldn't understand.

Finally, Gray found the courage to speak. "Do you want to come to my apartment? Perhaps help me figure out the layout for the living room? I could use some advice from a…" Gray gulped. "A friend." The word felt richer now on Gray's tongue.

"I'd love to," Veronica said, her shoulders relaxing down an inch. "It's what friends are for, right?" She squeezed Gray's fingers before releasing her hand. "I'm parked over there. See you at your place?"

Gray agreed, then watched Veronica's retreating frame as she walked across the lot. Once she reached her car, Veronica turned back and waved when she saw that Gray was still looking at her. In a daze, Gray waved back, then ducked into her driver's seat, wondering how a walk through the park had turned her entire world upside down.