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Times change. It's a very cheap thing to hear when you're young, but the older you get, you realize quicker all the time how far you've been left behind by the next generation. You see how many more sides there are to the latest issues of our time, and how many you already picked without knowing there were any at all. Or sometimes, worse, you picked the easier of two explicit choices when you were just as young as today's generation. I have seen for myself that scale from my younger days balancing now, and I can still only wait to see how much farther it has to tilt the other way.

I wasn't born in these hills either, you know. This land is Joshua's heritage, where we made our home together. I fell in love with these hills after I fell in love with him. The people here are my family after Joshua and Harley, for better or worse, and much of the time, it is worse. Falling in love with any of them was not something easy. I know that acting on your love for someone is sometimes the hardest choice.

I was Harley's age when I stood in my parents' house, held Joshua's hand in mine, and told them we were getting married. I was terrified about what they'd say, because I'd already heard what they'd said. My sister was away at her higher education then. I remember quite clearly my mother refusing to look Joshua in the eye as she told me what she thought about our arrangements.

'Is this a fucking joke?'

My mother was the mean one. She's quite deceased by now, God rest her soul, but there's no reason to hide her constant attitude. Neither of my parents had very simple feelings, but they always laid clear what they felt.

My own words, however, muddle themselves in the scene running through my mind. The gist of what I responded with was that I was going to move into Joshua's home and how we'd save up for our very own place in the country. My mother's further response was more noises than words. Let me tell you, she mastered long before I was born the articulation of grunts and hawkish laughs to explain her feelings.

Joshua let me do most of the talking. Joshua—he stays honest even when it embarrasses him. There's a good man in his heart and a harsh man on his tongue, even when his words are pointed toward himself, but the man who stood by me that day knew exactly how to keep his tongue in check.

It was only when we made it clear together that we'd made our choice that my mother and father both stopped protesting. My father shook his head. My mother said, 'Get the fuck out of my house.'

Through lingering fear of the future and relief that we'd weathered this first storm, that's what we did.

If you'd really like to know why my folks were so dead set against Joshua and I marrying, it wasn't for us being still so young—they wanted me to marry someone richer. Joshua was still working at the Henderson Family Dairy Farm when it was just going industrial, and I had no work but for whatever I could soon find. I put what I wanted with someone else over what they wanted, and in this case, of course it was the right choice.

But now, before she's told me a word of it for herself, I do wonder what kind of choice Harley is making with Apollo while she thinks I can't see. I know what they're up to. I still wonder why. That said, if you'd really like to know why I've treated him the way I have in my life—

Now, so would I.

Times change.

My niece can hardly ever keep her mouth shut when she's agitated, too, for better or worse. Clover's death may have affected her badly, but I don't think that's quite what's going on. Makes me wonder what else has kept her from speaking a word all day.

It's our weekly family night, marked mostly by the three of us watching Joshua's crime drama together. This is about the point Harley would be grinning herself smug and cracking whatever old joke she's come up with about Joshua's tastes, but she's sitting stiffer tonight than I've seen from her. Apollo's got a queer look on his face just the same beneath her, like I don't notice.

“It doesn't have to end like this, Carter… just put the gun down. We can talk this through. You still have another way out of this."

That's the main character, Tom, flashing the audience with one more button open than usual as he strikes a pose for talking down the episode's villain. The only man I've ever seen share my husband's heart, I believe, as Joshua leans in from his chair and tunes out the whole rest of the world for this silly hero and his silly moment.

“Don't tell me that! Don't you freaking tell me that like you know anything! Marie is gone because of this scum, and he just gets to keep living? No! That's not okay!"

I can't tell you who that is. I haven't paid enough attention. He's got a gun pointed at some other man, and you know as much as I do past that in whatever it is he's complaining about.

“I do know something, Carter," Tom explains for us, inching closer to both of the men. “I know that life hasn't been very fair to you. I know that your little girl just died, and you can't bear it. It's not fair. It won't ever be. I know that because I've lost someone, too, Carter. And I know that this isn't going to bring Marie back. I think you know that, too."

This is the point at which the villain is tearing up and his gun's shaking. Not to spoil the suspense, but we're about to see Tom walk even dangerously closer and take the man's gun without a fuss so that their tender moment isn't broken. More police will come, cuff both of the villains, and the lesser of a villain will get to have a good cry in a squad car while Tom admits something deeper to his high-heeled lady partner waiting behind.

That's what Harley would say if she had anything to offer. It is quite unsettling that Joshua gets to share his moment with Tom unspoiled tonight.

“It's a damn shame, Betty… Carter's just a man who was pushed over the brink. I was in his shoes once. When I found out who Jessica's killer was, I wanted to kill him, too. It consumed my mind. Almost convinced me it'd make everything better. Makes me think how differently my life would have turned out if I walked down that dark path Carter almost did tonight."

'Oh, Tom, you're so right. That's such a sexy backstory. Take me now in the middle of this dirty, dirty alleyway,' Harley might say over Betty's dialogue.

But she doesn't. Harley's not even watching anymore, just staring somewhere right beneath the screen with a color in her cheeks there from trying not to throw up.

What really happens is Betty patting a hand over her love interest's shoulder and saying, “But you didn't. Everyone has the choice to do something terrible sometime in their life, but you didn't, Tom. That's what matters."

My Joshua's the only one who puts any more than the littlest meaning into the heroes' cardboard babbling, just nodding at the screen and muttering, “That's right, Tom…."

Now the camera zooms out from those two having some reassuring little smile with each other, showing off the whole alley and the rest of the officers and how dark and sad the whole scene looks before the screen fades to black and the credits roll slow and gentle.

The show is over. More so than any of us previously thought, perhaps, as Harley gulps in her breath and Apollo stands up. Neither of them even look at me while he climbs into her lap, and only when she's wrapped her hands around his stubs for paws and they're both cuddled do they dare wander their gaze in my direction. Over a break in her voice, Harley announces, “We got something to say."

Only then is when my Joshua notices anybody outside the television, once he's clicked it off. He takes one look over and just says, “The shit, Harley. Get him down from there."

It's firmer now that Harley tells us, “We got something to say."

And it's my eyes that hers meet. Waiting for my immediate rebuke. Wondering which scenario in her head is about to play out, I suppose. Apollo, his shoulder tucked under Harley's chin and his paws reciprocating her clutch of them, looks to me and Joshua both through something like the expression Harley's trying harder to keep swallowed down.

Joshua stares them back, but he doesn't understand what I see plainly before me now. I look to only him as I keep my voice low.

“Honey, I think this is a talk Harley and I should be having alone."

Harley says, “No, it's something for both of you we got to tell."

I look back to her as square as she keeps looking to me. I have tried to help this girl.

“All right. Speak your peace."

Harley takes another deep breath.

“None of us have treated Apollo like he deserves," she says. The words come careful one after another. “You two have treated him like an animal and an idiot, and I let you."

Joshua shakes his head. “I swear to God, the hell—"

“I am not finished!" Harley says the clearest yet. She holds her Quilava tight. “Apollo is not just my friend. We—all his life he's had to hide who he is on the inside because of what people might do if he steps out of his part. I was raised—you raised me on every story about how dumb people like him are, and none of them were true."

Even my Joshua keeps his mouth shut now. Harley's words come faster as her front of confidence comes to a boil.

“Those sign language books I brought with me here as a kid—I didn't use 'em. We did. Apollo speaks just as good English as you or me, just not with his mouth. That don't make him stupid."

Joshua just shakes his head deeper.

“We figured out some of the signs a little sloppy, but they work fine," Harley says. “Wasn't any easier than the rest of the shit he been through but we learned together anyway. He never earned any of that shit he been through in the first place."

Joshua sighs. “So you're tellin' us you got into that pokie rights nonsense."

“—And also we're in love."

Now Harley's voice curtails. She looks to the floor as Apollo's gaze stays fixed on us, maybe frozen, and he nods.

“We're intimate," Harley mutters.

Even without seeing the look in her eyes, she's thought a lot about what we might think of her for this. What we might do.

Joshua leans his chair forward, pointing his finger the same direction. “You're fuckin' him?"

Harley has none of her wit left for that. My Joshua stands up next, pushing off from his chair and leaving it rocking behind him as his finger comes back around to his own chest. “Are you fuckin' with us?"

Apollo, perched as straight as he gets in Harley's lap, lowers one paw from her grasp to shield barely a few more inches of her with it even as he looks like he'd still rather go for a long, long run about now. Harley just clutches his other paw closer to herself.

“Honey," I say next, taking Joshua's gaze to myself, “let me talk to Harley about this myself."

But Joshua spits, “Our own goddamn niece! People 'like him'? She's makin' a fuckin' mockery out of people like us for every fuckin' kind of rumor folks spread about—"

“Joshua," I tell him. “I will deal with this. You know I will. We need to talk it out alone."

My husband looks me in the eye in a way we've seen each other few times over our lives together. This is a kind of anger in him he's had little cause for over that time. I do not falter against what he's going through.

“Then you do that," he says. “I need a cold fuckin' shower."

He goes. Stomps off, really, and now I'm the one whose gaze withers Apollo's. That boy can hardly look at me straight. I've hardly budged for this whole session, but I cross my fingers over my lap and just sigh.

They still think I'm going to kill them for something. They wonder if the parts of Tammy and Reggie that led to such a horrible mistake with Clover exist in me as well.

Makes me wonder the things I've ever said that might lead them to fear me like that.

“I'm not angry," I tell them both. My voice remains as deliberate as Harley has managed tonight. “I know I'm too old to pretend to be. I have no rage to contain behind this face."

Harley looks back up to me. Apollo's little paw relaxes.

“Let me guess," Harley still mutters. “Disappointed?"

“Frightened," I say. “I am very frightened. Because how I feel, how Joshua feels, is not the real issue."

Harley wraps her other arm around Apollo's waist and slumps him deeper into the chair with her, saying, “We know that much."

“I would ask why you didn't tell anyone this sooner, but I still remember when you did," I say. “Twelve years old. Now I remember how we responded to that."

“Laughed it off," Harley says.

“Is that what's kept you from talking about it again until now?"

“Quit talking a-bout Apollo, please. He's right here."

The boy's cheek is nuzzled against hers now. He's almost looking comfortable again, if he ever can in front of me. I just rest my shoulders easier back against my chair to that.

Harley strokes her boy's paw still in her hand. “Why aren't you mad?"

“Because I'm not an idiot either, Harley. I have not missed that filth you do together."

And now she truly lifts her gaze to mine. “You knew?"

“You really thought you kept it secret for three years?"

“No, no, no—you knew about the sex and you just—we s'posed to believe you didn't even care?"

“I was your age once, and I've learned what not to say since then. Was there anything I could say that would've stopped you two, might not have chased you away?"

Harley's eyes squint ugly at mine all the way down to a frown curling across her jaw.

“You fuckin' knew."

“That's what I'm telling you, Harley—"

“No, you fuckin' knew all along," she says. “You already knew Apollo wasn't some kind of—not a person! You knew and you tried to teach me not to treat him right, not to let him on the fuckin' furniture, not to give him any goddamn 'people food'!"

I see the rest of the words still waiting on her tongue while she stares me down, that kind of disgust in her scowl I suppose I didn't expect from her in this scenario.

“Why?" is all the rest she says.

“That's not how I feel about him," I tell her. “And even if it was, I told you, there's more that matters than how I feel."

“Okay, what?" Harley says. “What else is it that matters so fuckin' much over obliterating Apollo as a person?"

I lean off the arms of my seat, and only now does it seem like neither of those two flinch at my movement.

“How the rest of the world feels," I say. “How meaner people feel. What it is they'll do to you both. You think you understand what it is you're sacrificing, Harley, but you don't."

The look in Apollo's eyes nearly mirrors Harley's, an expression he thinks I've never spotted from him before. Harley says for them both, “That ain't good enough. Playing along with how the rest of people like you feel—no. We're done with that."

People like me, now? It used to be people like us. I suppose that, at least, was always the line that was going to be drawn in this conversation.

“And how long do you expect your relationship to last under the strain of everybody bearing down on you?"

“We'll last long as we still love each other."

“And when one of you decides you want to have children?"

“That's for us to decide," Harley says. “Maybe we just won't. You and Uncuh Josh-ya didn't."

“Not for lack of trying," I say.

There may be some different tone in my voice now that tempers Harley's glare. She and Apollo both don't sit so relaxed anymore.

“I promise you, Harley, it is not easy to stay together through that feeling."

She stays quiet again.

“It is for you to decide, that's right. And it's a conversation you need to have now, not later," I tell them both. “And don't you think about coming up with adoption as some poor excuse."

“We're not coming up with excuses anymore," Harley says. “We'll decide that business by ourselves."

One leg goes over my other as I press back into my cushions, crossing my hands again. I say, “Fine. That's all you two wanted to let us know?"

Harley shakes her head.

“We're leaving."

“Harley, you don't have to. Your uncle will—"

“I'm applying for college," Harley says. “Getting in what letters I can 'fore deadlines. Hopefully not Lewis's, but I'm goin' find someplace my grades are good enough for, and then… we're going for it."

Apollo lifts both his paws from her grasp and swings them around each other, tapping himself and making gestures I truly don't understand. Harley watches, then smiles something small and genuine at the end of it.

“Lewis's school should be the first you apply to," I just say.

Harley looks back to me and her smile's gone just as quick as it came. She says, “Didn't think you were rooting for him that much."

“The county that school is counted in has anti-abuse legislation for all creatures, and none outlawing what you two are doing. Very strict gun control, as well," I tell them both. “I can't tell you how badly the people there might think of you, but it's the safest college close enough for you to still visit us some weekends."

Something smaller than both the smile and the frown surfaces to Harley's face.

“You know that off the top of your head?"

I smile for her.

“I do now."

Harley strokes her boy on the side. She says, “Did Uncuh Josh-ya really not know anything about us?"

I shake my head. “No. He'll be angry about this for some time, but he'll get past it. He's not willing to lose you, either, Harley. Not for anything."

Harley takes one more deep breath, then says, “I'm not sorry for yelling at you."

“That's fine," I say.

Apollo lifts just one paw and swings it into a shorter gesture up to his lips, pulling it down toward me. Harley watches him and smiles again already.

“That's 'thank you.'"

I give her the slow nod, that kind only we mature folks have truly mastered.

“I got that one."

Harley scoops both her arms under Apollo, lifting him with a grunt while she pushes off from their seat. She swings him into a cradling once she's up, saying after their bosoms are settled even closer together, “We're goin' get a start on what papers I got in my room. Prolly better we don't come back down for tonight."

“That may be true," I say. “You be ready for an earful in the morning, though. Can't stop him from that."

Harley shrugs as free as if there's no more weight on her shoulders. Apollo doesn't smile like she does, but I reckon there's still that thank you in his eyes when he looks to me.

“Goodnight, Harley," I say.

“G'night, Auntie," she says.

She hugs her boy closer and creaks up the stairs. Happy, long as it lasts. But as soon as she's gone, this chair of mine has never felt so uncomfortable to stay sitting in.

My Joshua's still in the shower, judging from our pipes I hear squeaking. I may be left with an angry husband, but my family is still mostly whole. My sister—God, please rest her soul—she did right by Harley while she could, but I wonder if I've really done any worse. Honestly, times like these make me wonder how Harley isn't my very own daughter.

Make me wish.

But I suppose this means I can't watch out for her like one anymore. I thought I'd helped her, but maybe I'd only guided her down my own hopes for her life. Shame on me for not doing better while I had the time, either.

Whether it's for better or worse, I don't care—times change far too quickly for my tastes.