#jake lourdes

David’s sure Andrea meant what she said about Mary Anne being fine with it. He’s sure she believes that, and probably with good reason, but he’s noticed that some people are perfectly fine with it, just so long as it isn’t something they have to look at too closely. A singer coming out, or an NHLer on some other team, that’s one thing, but anything closer and the smiles start to slip.

Of course, Andrea said two of her cousins were gay, and they were Mary Anne’s favourites, but that’s not —

Close to you, he thinks, but of course, Andrea’s cousins are Mary Anne’s nieces and nephews, and David thinks, as far as closeness goes, a niece or nephew would cut close indeed. Certainly closer than a kid she took care of decades ago. Closer than almost anyone, so if that didn’t faze her, then David being —

Presumably, Andrea’s right, and she’ll take it well. David trusts her too, her and her family, in a way he doesn’t trust most people outside of hockey. He trusts them not to tell anyone else, trusts he won’t become a rumor online, ‘a friend of a friend was David’s former nanny and she says—‘.

It’s certainly better for her to know than to continue to conceal it, Jake demoted to his roommate, and while Jake’s all smiles about it, Jake’s all smiles about most things, even the things David knows he dislikes, and David knows it isn’t fair to him, and certainly isn’t plausible in the long-term.

David should tell her. Andrea being perceptive enough to figure things out without being told doesn’t make it her job to relay messages, and Jake barely knows Mary Anne, is only there as David’s — well, David supposes that’s another thing Mary Anne needs to be told, though those two things feel mostly inseparable to him by now.

David should tell her, but when Andrea excuses herself to the bathroom, Mary Anne singing to herself in the apartment’s kitchen, which she’s taken over, insisting on making them dinner to thank them for the hospitality, Jake touches his wrist, his knee when David pulls it away, glancing back towards the kitchen.

“You still want to tell her?” Jake asks.

“I—“ David says. He does, he just —

“You want me to do it?” Jake asks, and David mutely nods.

*

David doesn’t know what Jake tells her. He doesn’t really want to either, not beyond the basics — knowing that she knows who Jake is to him, knowing that she knows what that means. But when David returns from the bathroom break he took right before dinner, Jake shoots him a small smile, and David lets himself exhale, because that means he told her, means that it went okay, at least as far as Jake’s concerned.

“Have I mentioned how great this place is?” Mary Anne asks. “You two have a lovely home.”

“I—“ David says. “It’s just a sublet. It came fully furnished.”

“Good taste,” Andrea says, and Mary Anne nods.

“I—“ David says, and then, simply, “Thank you.”

*

“Help me with the dishes, David?” Mary Anne asks after dinner, and David follows her to the kitchen with an armful of plates. Mary Anne takes her time, making sure the water's the right temperature, soapy enough to her liking, David too struck by the fact she still washes dishes the exact same way she did when he was a child to tell her they can all just go in the dishwasher.

But then, they had also had a dishwasher when he was a kid. It didn’t matter — Mary Anne would wash all the dishes by hand, David at her side with a tea towel, proud she trusted him on drying duty.

David takes the open spot beside her, tea towel at the ready. He slows her down at first, he can tell, disrupts her rhythm, but she doesn’t say anything, and after a few dishes he catches up.

“Jake’s a lovely person,” Mary Anne says. “You can just tell.”

“He is,” David says.

“He seems kind,” Mary Anne says, and David can’t manage any words, so he just nods, hoping that will suffice.

“And funny!” Mary Anne says. Jake’s been doing his best to entertain Mary Anne and Andrea in all senses of the word, pulling out his best stories, the ones David knows by heart by now, though he found himself laughing at a few of them over dinner, less out of amusement than relief at the way Mary Anne was laughing just as hard now that she knew.

“You were such a serious child,” Mary Anne says. “I was always so proud of myself whenever I could get you to laugh."

David always remembered her being one of the funniest people he knew. He didn’t know she was trying.

“Does your mother know?” Mary Anne asks as she hands over a glass.

“No,” David says, and she nods slowly, doesn’t ask if his father does.

“I don’t think she’d take it badly,” she says after a moment.

David doesn’t think so either. He thinks she’d actually be quite pleased. He also thinks it’s a fact she’d be willing to use to her advantage, if she felt like it was worth it, can already hear her now, ‘this issue is very close to me, as my son himself is gay’. If it’d help her, she wouldn’t hesitate, and while she works in the background of politics rather than the forefront, things said behind closed doors don’t always stay there, and David’s met many politicians, but he doesn’t think he’s ever met one who wouldn’t use something said in confidence if it’d give them an advantage.

“It’s none of her business,” David says, and Mary Anne puts a hand on his shoulder, holds on until David exhales a shaky breath.

*

David’s more emotional than he expected to be when it comes time for them to go. Certainly more emotional than he should be, considering he has a game in Ottawa at the start of the season. He’d already asked the team to secure tickets for him for that one when the schedule came out, told them about it that night, so they wouldn’t think they had to buy tickets. Mary Anne accepted them, but with the caveat that David was still expected to come for dinner, a caveat David gratefully accepted.

“I’ll see you in October,” David says, though it’s more to himself than to Mary Anne — she’s still holding on, long past the appropriate length of a hug, but it’s not like he’s letting go either. “I’ll come to dinner, I promise.”

“Think if there’s anything you used to like,” Mary Anne says. “I’ll make it for you. And lumpia. Do you still like lumpia?”

David nods into her hair, even though he can’t remember the last time he had one. He’ll like if it’s hers.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” she says. David nods again, holding on a little tighter, and end the end, Mary Anne’s the first to let go.

He exchanges a much shorter hug with Andrea while Mary Anne hugs Jake, feeling a little bereft when they close the door behind him, the apartment feeling much too big, even though it really could really only be considered big by New York City standards.

“I think she took it pretty well,” Jake says after a long moment of silence, then, without David needing to say a word, he wraps his arms around David’s trembling shoulders, lets David tuck himself into the cradle of his arms until he feels ready to come out. It takes awhile, David thinks. It feels like a very long time.