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“Heavens, you’re late!” Antonia yawned heartily as she stood up and greeted the three at the door. Her gaze fell first on Denny, who immediately stumbled into her open arms. She pressed a quick kiss on his head and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Well, my big boy, still awake? At this hour you’re usually long gone to dreamland.”
“It was a wedding, Grandma,” he defended himself, but quickly shrugged his shoulders because he knew he didn’t really have an excuse.
Antonia laughed, then reached out to her daughter, stroked Hen gently on the cheek. “You look tired, darling. But beautiful. As always.”
Hen grinned wearily back. “You really need new glasses, Mom.”
“Nonsense.” Antonia waved it off, turned to Karen and placed a hand on her shoulder. “And you, daughter-in-law, look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up.”
“Feels like I already am,” Karen replied with a strained smile.
Antonia straightened up again, smoothed her skirt. “So, Mara fell asleep about two hours ago. She ate well, but she woke up several times. Nothing dramatic, just a little restless. I think the exciting day is still in her bones.”
Hen nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Mom. Without you we could never have managed all this.”
“Oh, nonsense. That’s what family is for.” Antonia patted her chest lightly, yawned again, and then raised her hands in farewell. “Well then, I’ll be off. Otherwise I’ll fall asleep here in your hallway. Good night, you three.”
“Good night, Mom,” said Hen, pulling her briefly into a hug.
“Sleep well, Grandma!” Denny called after her and grinned when she stuck her tongue out at him as a farewell.
No sooner had the door closed than Karen spun around, her eyes widening as she stared at the clock on the wall. “10:20 p.m.?!” Her voice was sharp but also a little shocked. “My God, Denny! Off to bed! Brush your teeth, right now!”
Denny, who had just thrown himself grinning onto the sofa, looked at her with exaggerated innocence. “But Mom, I’m not even tired.”
“Oh, really?” Hen put her hands on her hips, eyeing her son with her head tilted. “Then explain to me why you yawned in the car earlier like an old bear in hibernation?”
“I did not!” Denny jumped up, waving his arms indignantly. “That was just once! And besides, it was a cool yawn.”
“A cool yawn?” Karen couldn’t help it, she burst into laughter. “Denny, there’s no such thing as a cool yawn. Only a clear sign that you belong in bed already.”
“Can’t I at least play a little on my tablet?” he tried again, putting on his famous puppy-dog eyes. “Just twenty minutes. I was quiet the whole time and listened.”
Karen was about to argue, but Hen raised an eyebrow warningly. “Come on, honey, just say it. You know he’s already softened you up. You’re just not immune to that look.”
Karen shot her wife a mock glare. “Thanks for the support, very helpful!” Then she turned back to Denny, who was grinning at his mother as if he had already won.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly and finally said, “All right. Twenty minutes. But then that’s it, understood?”
"Yes, Mom!” Denny threw his arms in the air as if he had just won a major game.
“And heaven help you if I hear any sounds coming from your room after twenty minutes.”
“Not a chance! I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”
Hen grinned as she gave her son a light pat on the back. “Off to the bathroom, champ. Those teeth won’t brush themselves.”
“Okay.” Denny shuffled off, but turned at the door once more. “But really only twenty minutes, right?”
“Yes, Denny!” Karen rolled her eyes, laughing.
“And no complaints tomorrow morning that you’re too tired to get up,” Hen called after him.
“Don’t worry, Mom! I’ll get up like a pro!” came his muffled reply, just before the bathroom door clicked shut.
Moments later, the sound of running water came through the pipes, and both mothers exchanged a long glance.
Karen sighed, dropped into the Sofa and muttered, “That boy is going to put me in my grave one day.”
Hen laughed tiredly, reaching for the wine bottle. “Oh, that’ll take a while. For now, he’s only depriving us of sleep.”
Hen had already opened the bottle of wine, pulled the cork out with a soft pop and filled two glasses. She handed one to Karen and raised her own with a tired but mischievous grin.
“To Chimney and Maddie, the newlyweds. And to the 150 dollars you owe me.”
Karen raised her eyebrows in surprise and blinked at her. “Wait a second. What 150 dollars? The bet wasn’t that Buck is bisexual. The bet was that he and Eddie would finally get together. Instead he’s with Tommy now. If this were a horse race, you’d have bet on the wrong horse entirely, sweetheart.”
Hen snorted and took a strong sip of wine. “Ha, you’re such a killjoy. A girl can hope, can’t she?”
“Hoping, yes, but betting? You’re just too much of a romantic,” Karen teased, tapping Hen playfully on the shoulder with her glass.
Hen pulled a face, but her wife was right. It had never been about Buck’s orientation, only about whether he and Eddie would finally find each other.
“Still…” Karen leaned forward slightly, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Did you see Eddie’s face when he noticed Buck’s smudged mouth after Tommy kissed him? All covered in soot? I don’t think you’re that far off from your 150 dollars.”
She kissed Hen quickly on the lips and dropped onto the sofa, while Hen still stood frowning in thought.
“How did he look?” Hen finally asked, curious, almost unbelieving.
Karen took a deep swallow of wine, lowered her glass and smirked. “About the way I would look if another woman kissed you, someone I didn’t know, or someone I thought was just a friend.”
Hen opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment the bathroom door opened. Denny stood there, hair slightly damp, toothbrush in hand. His eyes were half closed already, but he trudged into the living room.
“Good night, Moms,” he mumbled sleepily, holding out his arms to both.
“Come here, you,” said Hen softly, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Off to bed with you, champ. Sleep well.”
Karen leaned down too, cupped his cheek and gave him a kiss. “And remember, twenty minutes on the tablet, then that’s it. Otherwise I’ll come take it away myself.”
Denny grinned drowsily. “Got it. But I’ll set the timer, I promise.” Then he let himself be hugged once more before yawning and shuffling to his room. A soft click signaled that he had closed the door behind him.
At that moment, almost as if on cue, both Hen and Karen reached for their phones. Without realizing what the other was doing, they each set a twenty-minute timer. It had become a strange little tradition: Denny always promised with great ceremony that he would put the tablet away after twenty minutes, and they had started setting their own timers in secret, just to keep track. Of course, they never intended to barge into his room, but the memory of that one night when Denny was still playing after an hour had made them cautious.
Karen placed her phone on the table and picked up her wine glass again, but as she turned she caught a glimpse of Hen locking her own screen. “Wait a second…” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just set a timer too?”
Hen froze, looked caught for a moment, then broke into a wide grin. “Um… maybe?”
For a few seconds they just stared at each other, then both burst out laughing. Karen smacked her forehead with her hand, still giggling. “This is insane, Hen! We both set the exact same timer without noticing!”
“Oh come on,” Hen chuckled, “when were we ever normal? Besides…” She raised her glass. “It’s quality control. If Denny manages to outsmart us, at least we have double coverage.” Karen was still laughing so hard she clutched her stomach. “Do you realize we’re going to end up like those couples who wear matching jackets and shop in the supermarket in sync?” “And? Would that be so bad?” Hen leaned forward and nudged her gently with her nose. “Honestly, I think it’s kind of sweet that we had the same idea.”
“Sweet, huh?” Karen winked and shook her head. “More like silly. But fine, let’s call it a family tradition.”
Hen finally sat down next to her on the sofa, set her glass on the coffee table and let out a deep breath. “So you’re seriously telling me that Eddie looked jealous? Or hurt? Or both?”
Karen tilted her glass thoughtfully, letting the wine catch the light. “I’d say a mix. A touch of surprise too. I think he already knew about Buck’s relationship, but part of him… doesn’t agree with it. You know what I mean?”
“Of course I do.” Hen sighed, staring into the dark liquid as if searching for the right words. “Those two are so close, I always thought they’d eventually find each other. Remember when Buck was struck by lightning? Or when Eddie fell into that shaft and Buck was clawing at the dirt with his bare hands to dig him out? Or when they carried Buck into the hospital on that stretcher and we’d only just gotten his pulse back?” Her voice softened, almost broke. “You should have seen Eddie’s face. It was like his whole world was being ripped away. I was sure that day he finally understood what he felt for Buck. But maybe… maybe he’s just too stuck in this idea of being straight.”
Karen raised an eyebrow, set down her glass and folded her arms. “You think Eddie’s pansexual?”
Hen nodded firmly. “Yes. Not that I’d tell him what he should be. But I don’t think his needs are purely physical. I think they depend on feelings. On love, closeness, security. Do you remember how he had panic attacks just imagining a future with that teacher? Panic attacks, Karen! That says it all.”
Karen laughed softly, almost disbelieving, and tilted her head back. “Macho Eddie, pansexual?”
Hen lifted her hands as if it were obvious. “Of course. What else could he be?”
They looked at each other, silence stretching for a moment, before they both started laughing. They leaned in, kissed gently and clinked their glasses again.
“This wine is fantastic,” Hen sighed at last. “Where’d you get it?”
Karen swallowed the rest of her glass quickly, coughed a little, and covered her mouth with her hand. “From that new wine shop in the mall. The selection looked tiny at first, but apparently the quality makes up for it.”
She set her glass aside, snuggled up against Hen’s shoulder. Almost at the same time they both yawned, and instantly burst out laughing again.
“Bed?” Karen asked with a hopeful smile.
Hen didn’t need to be asked twice. For her, sleep had been a rare treasure these last two days. Four hours, if that, was all she had gotten since Chimney’s crazy wandering around Los Angeles and the endless hours at the hospital. Now every fiber of her body screamed: bed, rest, sleep.
But before they could crawl under the covers, they picked up the empty glasses and carried them into the kitchen. “Better to clear it now,” Karen whispered, “otherwise tomorrow someone’s bound to trip over it. Or Denny decides he’s old enough to do the pouring.”
Hen chuckled softly, rinsing the glasses quickly. “Don’t even joke. Imagine waking up to Denny serving us red wine for breakfast.”
“He’d try,” Karen laughed, corking the bottle and tucking it away in the cabinet, safely out of reach. “And he’d swear it was grape juice.”
Hand in hand, they left the kitchen, crossed the darkened bedroom and stepped into the adjoining bathroom, gleaming white tiles and two sinks side by side. Their nightly ritual. Hen splashed cold water on her face, sighed so deeply it was almost a groan. Karen stood at the other sink, pulling out her hair tie and brushing her curls slowly.
Their eyes met in the mirror. Tired, yes. But with a glow only familiarity could bring.
“You know,” Hen said around her toothbrush, “I don’t think Buck ever really knew who he wanted. Tommy makes sense because it’s easy. No complicated thoughts, no risks.”
Karen rinsed her mouth, turned half toward her. “And Eddie?”
Hen put her toothbrush down, bent to splash water again, then looked up at her wife. “Eddie is the opposite of easy. With him, everything’s at stake. Trust, family, love. But Buck blocks it out. He’s locked in this idea that Eddie’s straight. If he never opens that door, he doesn’t have to face what his heart might actually want.”
Karen considered her words, then stepped closer. “Maybe it’s not protection. Maybe it’s fear. Fear of losing Eddie if he dares to want more. Sometimes we don’t lock doors because we don’t want to go in, but because we’re afraid of what breaks if we do.”
Hen let out a long sigh, her gaze dropping, until Karen’s gentle touch on her arm coaxed a small smile back. Together they flicked off the bathroom light and slipped into bed.
Hen lay on her back, Karen immediately curled against her, head on her shoulder. The warmth soothed, but Hen’s thoughts still stirred. “And still…” she whispered into the dark, “I’m scared. What if they never find their way to each other? What if Buck stays trapped in fear and Eddie in denial? I don’t want them to miss their chance.”
Karen lifted her head slightly, eyes glinting in the faint moonlight through the curtains. “Hen, listen to me. Love breaks walls. All the walls we build around ourselves. You can push it away, ignore it, pretend it’s easier without it, but love doesn’t stop existing. And if it’s real, if it’s true, it will find its way. Always.”
Hen’s eyes softened, thoughtful and quiet.
Karen cupped her cheek, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Just like us.”
A tired smile spread across Hen’s lips. She turned toward Karen, pulling her close. They lay entwined, arms and hearts wrapped around each other.
At last, sleep claimed them. And in Hen’s dreams, she found herself at the 118 again. The common room was decorated for a party, voices overlapping with laughter, food and balloons everywhere. It was as if the family had decided simply to celebrate being alive.
Bobby stood near the kitchen with Athena, laughing over a recipe. Chimney had Maddie in his arms, more relaxed than Hen had seen him in ages. Karen was chatting with Athena, both smiling at something Mara had said.
And there, at the end of the sofa, sat Eddie and Buck. Close. Too close not to notice, if you were looking. Shoulders touching, their bodies leaning imperceptibly toward each other. Hen noticed.
She watched as Buck laughed, turning his head, and Eddie leaned closer, almost without realizing it. A quiet moment bloomed between them, invisible to the rest of the room. And then, as if they believed no one saw, their lips met in a brief, tender kiss.
Hen held her breath in the dream. It was not loud or dramatic, but quiet, unassuming. An at last.
Behind them, Danny, Mara, and Christopher played tag between the tables, giggling, weaving through the legs of the adults. Children safe with their family. Adults laughing. And two men who finally stopped hiding the pull between them.
In her sleep, Hen smiled. And as the image faded, a deep peace settled over her. Perhaps it was only a dream. But perhaps it was also a glimpse of what could be.