Release(22)

“The Darlingtons don’t do any of that,” Adam would answer. “Though I think they probably did vote for all the Clintons.”

“I’m just saying, the tendency is there. Towards a relative look at the world, where you can eventually talk yourself into thinking that pretty much anything at all is okay.”

“Oh, come on, Brian,” his mother said this particular time, filling in a job application on her laptop. “You like Angela.”

“I do like Angela,” his father answered. “I’m just saying it’s hard to deprogramme from that stuff. I don’t know how many times we’ve invited them to church.” He glanced over at Adam. “You could be a real witness to that girl.”

“I don’t even understand what they mean by the verb,” Angela said to him whenever he brought it up. “Wouldn’t I be the witness, watching you tell me about it?”

“It’s more like I’m giving you a witness statement.”

“Like you saw God committing a crime?”

“I’m supposed to be offering my own witness on what Christ has done for me.”

“Made you gay and put you in the best possible family for dealing with that? At least He has a sense of humour.”

“Maybe I’m meant to witness to my family?”

“How’s that working out?”

“We’ve all silently agreed to disagree.”

But Adam’s parents did like her. That was true. They liked her manners around them, liked how hard she worked on her farm and at the pizza place without ever seeming to complain. They liked her enough that Adam was sure they still held out the hope he’d one day just marry her, whatever sexual agreement they had to work out to do it.

They didn’t know Angela was fluid enough to sometimes flow to girls. Particularly girls with kissable lips, the thinness of Angela’s own the sole physical feature she regularly complained about.

“I’ll bet Dutch people have really thin lips,” he said now, in the back room of Pizza Frome Heaven.

And again, she knew him well enough not to even blink at the non sequitur. “Like their really tall bodies?”

“You’d be very short if you went. Shorter.”

“You’re tall, Adam. I know your ways and tempers. I know when to feed you and what your mating calls sound like.”

“It’s all about rolling into a ball when we want to rut.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“What if I need you here to be my guide for the clinically short?”

“You’ll do fine without me.”

“I won’t,” he said.

“No, probably, and I won’t be fine without you.”

“It’ll be like losing a minor limb. A hand or something.”

“An ear.”

“My hair.”

“Oh, you’ll be losing that soon enough. I’ve seen your dad.”

Then she waited, waited to see how he would really take it.

He patted the seat next to him. She came over and sat down. They leaned side by side against each other.

“When do you leave?” he asked. He was so much taller than her he could rest his left cheek all the way across the top of her head.

“Week from Tuesday,” she said, sounding sadder than he wanted.

“Wow. Will you come back for Christmas?”

“I want to, but my mom is already talking about Christmas in Rotterdam.”

“Zwarte Piet,” Adam said.

“Maybe I can start a protest movement or something.”

They didn’t move as Angela’s shift manager came in, a tall black senior called Emery from their school who was essentially raising his younger brothers as their mother slowly died of dementia. “Hey, Adam,” he said.

“Hey, Emery, how’s your mom?”

“Oh, you know. No worse this week at least.”

“Good.”

Emery glanced at Angela. “Lunch rush is coming. I’m going to need you back.”

Angela nodded. “Give me a minute, though.”

Emery shook his head affectionately at her and Adam. “Weirdest couple I know.” He left them, holding up his fingers to say she could have two more minutes.

“You going to miss me?” Angela asked.

“Are you kidding?”

“Yeah. You are.”

“But I know you wouldn’t go if you didn’t want to.”

And even though he couldn’t see her face, he could practically feel her smiling. “Europe, Adam. I’ll be living in Europe. For a whole year.” She turned to him. “You have to find a way to visit.”

“With what money? I don’t have a job any more.”

“Oho, that story isn’t even close to being finished. You’ll come to Rotterdam with the money you win from the sexual harassment suit against Wade.”

“Because my parents would totally support that public debacle.”

She got up and stood in front of him. They were finally at matching heights and she rested her forehead against his own. “I’ll sure as hell miss you, Adam Thorn.”

“You won’t have a shortage of super-tall Dutch people to remind you of me.”

Her eyes lit up. “And maybe one of them will be straight.”