“Nothin’. Can’t a mama call her son without there bein’ a need to?”
There shouldn’t need to be, no. But she hadn’t called me in almost a year.
“Wasn’t expectin’ to hear from you, is all.” To my dismay, Harlan picked himself up and probably, to give us privacy, left to go to the bathroom. “And yeah, color me surprised.” A thought popped into my head. “Daddy ain’t home, is he?”
“No,” she whispered. “He just left for his tour. I-I wanted to tell you I’m so sorry I can’t be the mother you need. The other day on the phone…I wish you could come back home.”
“Why do you let him push you around? You should be able to call me if you want.”
“What am I supposed to do? I ain’t got no place else to go if he kicks me out.”
I snorted. “He ain’t gonna kick you out. He couldn’t survive without you doin’ everything for him.” A terrifying thought crossed my mind. “He don’t hurt you, does he? If he ever touched you—”
“No, no. Never,” she interrupted me hurriedly. “I swear on my life, he never laid a finger on me. But he’s hurtin’ too. Every night he goes and sits on the porch, drinkin’ a beer and starin’ out at nothin’. I know he’s thinkin’ about you.”
“If he cared so much, he’d never’ve told me to get out and not come back.”
“It’s hard for him to come to terms with…” She said cautiously, “You know how people are here.”
“You’re my family. My mother and father. You’re supposed to love me no matter.”
“I’d take a bullet for you. I’d die for you. And I know Daddy would too.”
“That’s hogwash, Mama. He hates me and can’t or won’t even look at me, like I’m disgusting or somethin’. But now that Bobby’s married, everyone forgot he was with me? Bully for him.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Harlan watching me. “I love you, but you didn’t care enough to stand up for your own son. You’d rather believe a stranger than your own blood.”
“That’s not true. We do care. It’s just—”
“It’s just that you care what other people think, more than you do your own son’s happiness.”
Her crying used to break my heart, but it didn’t anymore. It was in too many pieces already for it to ever be put back together whole.
“Why can’t it go back to the way it used to be?”
“I was always gay, Mama. I never ever was gonna get married to a woman and live that life. Being gay ain’t something I decided to be one night because I thought it looked like fun. Did you think I liked being stared at everywhere I went in town? Do you think I enjoy not having any family, getting kicked out and told to leave and never come back until I was normal?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’ta called.”
“I think maybe you’re right. Maybe you shouldn’t no more. Not until you’re ready to accept me. G’night, Mama.” I clicked off and threw the phone on the sofa, then lay back staring at nothing. The sofa cushion dipped next to me, and Harlan put his arm around me. He’d come in so silently, I hadn’t noticed.
“Want to talk about it?” He massaged the back of my neck.
“Not really,” I said grimly. Harlan remained silent, his hand circling in a soothing pattern. I huffed out a sigh.
“The summer I turned sixteen, my daddy hired a college kid to work with them in the sheriff’s office. He was four years older than me and so gorgeous, I couldn’t look at him without gettin’ a boner. One day when we were alone, he kissed me, and I thought I’d died and seen the Lord. It was better than any wet dream I’d ever had about him.”
I smiled at the memory, and Harlan cleared his throat. “Okay. Can we end the walk down Horny Lane?”
I blinked, the memory of Paul fading to the background once again. “Simmer down. I ain’t seen or thought of him in years. Anyway, after that day, I’d tell my daddy Paul was helpin’ me brush up on my sight trackin’, but in reality we’d be out in the fields, makin’ out. Paul taught me a lot in those three months.”
“Hooray for Paul.” Harlan kissed my neck. “I guess I do owe him a debt of gratitude.”
“Yes, you do. He opened my eyes to being true to who I was. Before Paul, I thought I could maybe be with girls. But spending the summer with him, I knew I couldn’t. Then in the fall, when I went back to my senior year of high school, I met Bobby.”
Between the conversation with my mother and now this, I’d revealed more about my past to Harlan, who I barely knew, than to my best friends Austin and Frankie, who’d known me for over a year.
“Who’s Bobby, and why do I have a feeling this story is going to make me very angry?” All the teasing had fled Harlan’s voice, and the comforting massage stopped. He grasped the nape of my neck in a protective, possessive way.
“Bobby moved to town that summer I was with Paul. He came to school and made a big splash—got to be captain of the football team, had a fancy red sports car, and was good-looking enough to make the girls forget any other guy existed. He was smart too; both of us were in some honors classes together and took to studyin’ together.”
