The Chicken Sisters(91)

“Perfect. We’re done. Getting a little deep there, for Food Wars, but I loved it. We’ll keep filming the rest, of course, and you need to do a reveal with Barbara, but this will be good stuff for the episode, too.”

With Sabrina satisfied for the moment, Mae set out to find Jay. She needed to talk to him, but would he hear what she had to say? There was no time to linger and plan if she wanted to seize this moment when the cameras were focused on other things. She got up, then headed for the back patio. Andy, Kenneth, and Frankie were there, with Jay, who was putting his phone back in his pocket.

“You were good, Aunt Mae,” said Frankie, a little begrudgingly.

“Your mom and I will work things out, Frankie,” Mae said. Amanda had made Mae so angry, yes, but Amanda didn’t know yet about Barbara’s illness, or that as much as it mattered who came out on top in Food Wars, there were things that mattered more. She took Jay’s arm, meeting his eyes, asking permission, and he turned to follow her. “Sorry, guys, but Jay and I need to talk.”

Quickly, she led him out the back trail, the one that went down to the river and the old cottonwood tree, rushing into speech as soon as they were out of earshot. “I’m sorry. I know, I need to explain, and I couldn’t, not with them filming everything. Thank you for going along with it. Seriously. Thank you.”

Jay, beside her, was silent for a moment, and she loosened her grip on his arm, slid her hand down to his, willing him to take it, trying to push aside her fear that he was already halfway out the door, and the instinct to protect herself from how much it would hurt if he went. He did, and she squeezed, glad to have even the chance to tell him what she was thinking.

“You could start with why we’re not in a Kansas City suburb,” Jay said, giving her a sideways glance. “A very small town an hour away is not exactly a suburb.”

Mae bit her lip and felt herself flush. “Well, this is it,” she said. “This is home. It was hard, coming from this to New York. Or even from this to SMU. Everyone else knew what to say, and how to act, and what to wear. I had to learn to fake it. By the time we met, I had my story down. It was easier just to keep it that way.”

“It didn’t matter where you were from, Mae. It never would have mattered.”

They had reached the path down to the fallen tree now, and Mae stopped and faced Jay at the top. “Maybe not, but it was easier to just stick with the script. I’d been telling people my mom ran a restaurant in a Kansas City suburb for a long time before I met you. In my head, all this—the chicken, my mom, the house—it felt like it was following me, all the time. It was bad enough just dealing with all the Kansas jokes—No, we’re not in Kansas anymore. I’ve only heard that a thousand times.”

“So you lied,” Jay said. He was making his way down the path now and didn’t look back at her.

“It wasn’t lying,” she said. “I put a good spin on things. I can see how it looks like lying. And I can see all this differently now, too. But I couldn’t then. And I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know. I guess. And your mom— I can see why you don’t talk about that, although you could have, to me. My parents aren’t exactly perfect either.”

Mae still saw a pretty big gap between her history and Jay’s, which was at least neat and clean and looked more normal from the outside, but he was right. They’d both had to be their own support as kids. She knew that, but she’d never seen how much it connected them until now.

Jay went on. “So that’s it? Any other surprises? Besides our future as dog owners?” Mae cast a quick look at him, and he smiled. He was kidding about that, anyway, she could tell—probably about all of it—but there was something else she hadn’t told him. Sabrina hadn’t worked her stint as an exotic dancer into any questioning, but she had it. It might only be a matter of time. And she was proud of it, she reminded herself. Proud that she had found a way to support herself.

That really didn’t make this any easier.

Jay was watching her, wary now, his teasing expression fading. Couldn’t she just skip this and accept the olive branch he seemed ready to extend? Maybe later would be a better time—but no. Clear the counter, right? “I also might not have mentioned that I put myself through college working at a place called the Yellow Rose of Texas Gentlemen’s Club.”

Jay’s eyes widened as the implication of the name soaked in. “Working?”

“Onstage. Dancing.” Mae needed to get that clear. “Just dancing. Nothing else, not ever.” As she spoke, it all came back to her—the too-brightly lit dressing rooms, her own very neat costume bag, the other girls, some up for a little more than dancing, but most toeing the line, in it for the money, just like Mae.

Jay stood, gazing at her. Mae didn’t even know what to expect. This was so long ago, before they even met, but it was— Well, if she wasn’t maybe a little embarrassed by it, it would be on her résumé. She smiled weakly. “It was a long time ago.”

Half of Jay’s mouth turned up into a smile, and now she could see—he was trying not to laugh. For a minute, she felt a little pissed—she was telling him important things, here—but she got it, kind of. She smiled a little more herself, and then he laughed, and now they were both laughing.