“I won’t tell him,” said Ginny. “But I will tell you this. I’ve had that lasagna of his and it could use more garlic, for sure.”
“He can’t cook that spicy on account of all the different guests, Mom,” said Leland. “He’s cooking for almost fifty people each week.”
“He used to cook for a hundred people before that dang fool of a guest up and disappeared.” Ginny wiped her hands on a towel and leaned back against the farm sink, her arms across her chest. “And the police still don’t have a clue.”
“It’s a cold case now, Mom,” said Leland. He took a drink from his iced tea. “Besides, I’m sure Quinn didn’t do it on purpose.”
“That’s not what you said at the end of last season,” said Ginny. “You had quite the string of words to describe him then.”
“C’mon, Mom,” said Leland. He gestured to Jamie as Ginny brought out several slices of strawberry-rhubarb pie and sat down next to Jamie to join them. “You’re going to give Jamie the wrong idea about me.”
“I’m sure he’s got the exact right idea.” Ginny smiled as she ate a forkful of pie. “You fellows look any harder at each other, well. You might as well be holding hands across the table.” She laughed at their reactions and patted Jamie on the arm. “Don’t mind me, Jamie. But what you don’t know is that Leland has never brought anyone home before. So you’ll have to excuse my assumptions.”
A small silence fell in the bright kitchen as Jamie and Leland looked at each other.
Jamie’s mom and dad, with icy hearts, had turned their back on him when he admitted to them he liked boys, and he had no real experience being that honest with anyone else. That is, until he met Leland, who, when Jamie had admitted he was gay, had turned around and been honest right back. And now, in Ginny’s kitchen, it seemed the same was happening all over again, except Jamie had no idea what to say.
“We’re still new, Mom,” said Leland, looking at Jamie with affection blazing in his grey-blue eyes, a smile curving his mouth. “So be gentle with us, would you?”
“Of course I will,” she said to him, reaching out across the table to touch his hand with hers. Then she looked at Jamie, her eyes full of stars. “I just like to see a young man with a healthy appetite.”
Jamie looked up, his mouth full of pie. He felt flushed, uncertain what Leland would make of his mom paying him so much attention, but both of them laughed like it was an old joke between them.
“I cook for one these days, Jamie,” she told him as she got up and gathered their empty plates. “So it does me good to cook for more.”
“Jamie and I will come every week, Mom,” Leland said. “I just don’t like putting you to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble,” she said. Her back was turned to them as she rinsed off plates and cutlery in the sink and set them to one side. “I like the company, is all.”
“Mom.”
Leland got up and went to her, wrapping his arms around her, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her hand came up to press his face to hers, and though Jamie was seeing this all without seeing their expressions, his throat grew tight. That was how a mom acted who loved her son, who loved and accepted him for who he was.
“C’mon now, son, let me finish this up.”
Leland stepped away, and Ginny turned around, patting the corners of her eyes. When she saw Jamie sitting there, she smiled.
“You’ve got such wide green eyes, Jamie,” said Ginny, the fondness in her voice folding around Jamie like a warm blanket. “And I know many a girl who would curl for that hair.”
“I might cut it,” said Jamie, shifting under this glow of attention.
“No,” said Leland, then he stopped himself with the force of a Mack truck slamming on the breaks. “I mean, if you want to cut it, of course it’s your hair. But I kind of like it—dang.” With a rough hand he rubbed the back of his neck, as though worried about Jamie’s reaction to this information.
“Then I’ll keep it, if you like it.” Feeling warm all over at having an audience, even a nice one, for such a declaration to Leland, Jamie shifted in his seat.
“All that hair barely fits under his hat,” said Leland, smiling to lessen the tease. “A hat which he forgot today.”
“I wouldn’t talk,” said Ginny, teasing Leland in her turn. “You’re the one who always leaves his shirt off when working outdoors, and now you have permanent freckles on those shoulders.”
Again they laughed, bringing up in Jamie small bubbles of joy, of happiness. When Leland looked at him, his mouth open as he laughed, his face was bright and his grey-blue eyes were full of light. As the laughter turned to warm smiles, Jamie remembered those freckles from when they’d painted John Henton’s cabin, and how he’d wanted to kiss them. Now, he would get that chance.
Leland winked at him, as though he knew what Jamie was thinking, and Ginny smiled, though she couldn’t possibly know. But what if she could guess? Horrified that his wayward thoughts might be plainly seen, Jamie scrubbed his face and got up, pushing his chair in.
“We should get back, Mom,” said Leland, giving Ginny another hug and a kiss. “I’ll mention the amount of garlic to Levi.”
“He’ll know I’m right,” said Ginny. “Now, you boys want some pie to take with you?”
“Yes, please,” said Jamie.
