Chapter Twenty

VERONICA GAZED AT the steel and glass arches of the roof of the Glasgow airport. Six short months ago she had found her way out of customs and into the waiting black car that had carried her to the ferry to Skye and then to Rowan House. She shivered. Dread bubbled up, knotting her gut. Veronica thought about all the subtle and not so subtle racism she’d experienced over her life. It was a low frequency hum, affecting everything and every moment. Veronica slumped in her seat as she thought of all the ways she moderated the way she spoke, and looked, and acted growing up; how she had doubled down on it after her release.

She hadn’t had to do any of that since she had arrived at Rowan House. And now they were headed back to a place where a wrong look or tone could have her face down on the sidewalk with cuffs on her wrists and a knee in her back. Sadness and anger battled for first place in her thoughts. Will she understand? Will she get it? She’s faced some shit over her butch appearance and being queer, but does she have any idea how much worse it can be? How assholes will react when we go out as a couple? She’s not ignorant. She’ll be okay. She wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t mean it.

She glanced over at Millie. Her face pulled into a grimace as she checked her phone messages. “Problem?” Veronica’s voice squeaked. She swallowed around her apprehension.

“No. Another ridiculous email from that woman who shall remain nameless’s solicitors.” Millie turned her phone off and stuffed it into her pocket.

Veronica rubbed her hand over Millie’s back in small circles. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Not your fault. And if she had any sense at all, she’d let this go. Before I call in some favors.” The low tone of menace in Millie’s voice shocked Veronica.

“What kind of favors?” Veronica’s failed attempt to hide her fear was evident from the exasperated expression on Millie’s face.

“Nothing violent. You’ve watched too many movies.” Millie lowered her voice. “I’ve driven many people to Rowan House over the years. Powerful people who like me and trust me to keep their private trysts private. People who have the ability to make my mother’s life a living hell if she doesn’t stop trying to get her claws on my gran’s money. Money for the scholarship Gran wanted to create in her name at Cardiff. I’m not going to let her take that from Gran.” The set of Millie’s chin and the resolve in her voice reminded Veronica of why this woman and no other would do for her.

 

THE FIRST-CLASS seats were roomy enough for Veronica to stretch out and sleep, but her thoughts circled around to what lay ahead. Her family had been great on the phone about Millie’s past, but she had neglected to mention Millie was white. She sorted over her family’s history and came up short with anyone ever even dating a white person, let alone being engaged to one. No need to tell them we’re engaged. Not right away. Let them get used to the idea of Millie first.

She glanced over at Millie, her face peaceful as she slept. She had a fresh haircut, the edges of her fade sharp, and Veronica longed to reach out and touch the pink skin above her ear. Not wanting to wake her, she satisfied herself with simply enjoying the view. The deep laugh lines around Millie’s eyes and the corners of her mouth and the strong angle of her jaw were visible in the low light of the cabin. Her long legs were stretched out and she had her arms clasped over her chest, holding on to the blanket. The subtle curve and dip of the muscles in her forearms had Veronica shifting in her seat as a low heat simmered in her belly. With no chance to do anything about it, she sighed in frustration and looked out of the window into the midnight blue surrounding the plane. Damn it. They’ll be okay. They’d never make me choose.

She turned her head and took in Millie’s sleeping form and knew who held the keys to her heart and life. She turned back to the window and peered out as their plane rushed toward a future she knew included Millie no matter what.

 

VERONICA’S HANDS WERE damp where they gripped the steering wheel. Millie had grown quieter the closer they got to Veronica’s home. As she made the familiar turn on to her parents’ street, she glanced over at Millie. Her expression was as blank as it had been when she came home from the nursing home the day her gran had passed. Her hands were clasped in front of her, white across the knuckles. Veronica pulled the car over to the curb.

Millie turned to peer out of the window. “Are we here?”

“No.” Veronica reached over and smoothed her hand over Millie’s forearm. Her muscles were whipcord tight under her shirt. “I wanted to talk a minute.”

Millie sighed and lowered her chin to her chest. “Okay.”

“No matter what happens, I’m not letting go of you. Nothing my parents or anyone else could say would ever make me change my mind about you.” She touched Millie’s cheek, drawing her gaze, and leaned over and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Nothing.”

Millie kissed her back, and Veronica sensed the tension bleed out of her.

“If you kiss me like that again, mo ghràdh, we’ll be late to your parents’ house.”

Veronica settled herself in her seat and pulled the car out onto the street. Two blocks later she pulled into her parents’ driveway.

She opened her door and stepped out, breathing in the scent of soft pines and a fire burning in the fireplace.

Millie stepped out of the car and inclined her head toward the car. “Should I get our bags?”

“No. Let’s go in first. We can get them later.” Veronica had been so worried about Millie she had squelched her excitement to be home. She made herself walk up the sidewalk but only got halfway before her father and mother burst out of the door and ran toward her.

Her father scooped her up in a hug so fierce her back cracked. “Easy, Pop, you’ll break a rib.” Her dad squeezed her once more before he let her go. Her mother elbowed him aside and wrapped her arms around her, rocking and hugging her. Veronica looked over her mother’s back and saw Millie with one hand on the roof of the car, the other stuffed into her jacket pocket.

Veronica’s mother finally let go of her. Veronica walked back and looped her arm through Millie’s and led her to her parents. She saw surprise sweep over both their faces before their manners kicked in. Her father offered Millie his hand, and Millie took it. “Very nice to meet you, Millie.”

Millie shook his hand and made eye contact. “You as well, sir.” Her father released Millie’s hand.

Veronica’s mother stepped close, and she shook her head. “No. You are going to call us Vincent and Cora.” She raked her gaze over Millie, cocked her head to the side, and met Millie’s gaze. “You’re taller than I imagined.”

“I get that a lot.” Her arm tensed beneath Veronica’s grip.

“Ronnie, help your father with the bags.” Cora took Millie by the hand and pulled her arm from Veronica’s grasp. “Ronnie tells me you’ve been practicing together. Her cousin Frank will be joining you…”

Her mother ushered Millie into the house. Millie shot a look at Veronica over her shoulder and grinned. Veronica glanced at her dad. “Is it okay, Pop?”

Her father shrugged. “You know your mother isn’t going to be okay until she hears Millie play. She wants everything to be perfect.”

Veronica quirked her mouth at her dad. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Her dad kept his gaze fixed on Veronica’s eyes. He rested his hand on the trunk of the car. “If you care for this woman, we care for her. Now pop the trunk and help me get your luggage into the house before your mother makes Millie play for her dinner.”

 

“VIOLET, THIS IS Millie. Millie, Violet.” Veronica rolled the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “She’s going to accompany me for the recessional. On the guitar, I mean.” Veronica flushed. “And to the reception.”

Violet clasped Millie’s hand in both of hers. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She glared at Veronica. “Finally.”

Millie tilted her head at Veronica. “It’s not her fault we’re late.” She leaned closer to Violet. “Your mother has had us practicing for hours.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t ask her ‘how’s it going?’”

Violet laughed. “She has gone full-on ‘mother of the bride’ mode.

Violet let go of Millie’s hand and hugged Veronica close. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing home Prince Harry’s twin.” She whispered into Veronica’s ear.

Veronica poked her sister hard in the ribs and broke their hug. “Violet!” She frowned at her sister.

Violet stepped back and smiled, never taking her eyes from her sister’s face. “Millie, would you give us a moment?”

“Uh, sure.” Millie tilted her head and raised her eyebrow. She glanced at Veronica.

“I think my dad could use some help.” Veronica tilted her head toward the garage.

Millie stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked toward the house.

Veronica waited until Millie had closed the door behind her. “What the hell, Violet? Because she’s white? Or because she’s butch?”

Violet grabbed Veronica’s hand. “Sissy, I don’t care about any of that. Come on, I was kidding.”

Veronica’s anger melted at her sister’s use of her family name. “I’m sorry.”

Violet squeezed her hand. “You’re worried about Aunt Jean, aren’t you?”

“And everybody else, damn it.”

“Well, they are going to say stuff—to you and to her. And you know Walter won’t not say anything. You better be ready.”

“I know.” Veronica hated the defeated tone in her voice.

“And Millie is solid in who she is, right?”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah. I mean we both are.”

“So, fuck them.” Violet tugged Veronica into a hug. “You’re my Sissy, and I want you at my wedding, and they can all go to hell if they don’t like your girlfriend.”

“Fiancée.” Veronica watched her sister’s face.

“For real? Sissy, that’s wonderful.” She grabbed Veronica and squeezed her hard. “When? Have you told Mom and Dad?”

“No. I wanted to tell you first.”

“Who asked who?”

“She asked me, and I don’t know when to tell Mom and Dad. Mom is crazy right now.”

“Well, you better tell them soon. Mom will be pissed you didn’t tell her as soon as you said yes.”

Veronica hugged her back. “When did you get to be so wise?”