His phone rang, “MOM” filling the screen. He answered, and she said, “I’d better be invited to your funeral.”
“If it were real, of course you would be. I’m just having a party. My artsy friends will be there.”
“I’m artsy.”
He rolled his eyes. She was, but her beautiful watercolors of flowers that won blue ribbons at the fair weren’t the same as his trompe-l’œil skulls, or Déjà’s picnic ghosts, or Rye’s chairs made out of barbed wire. “Remember when I threw a Halloween party and there were chocolate-covered crickets in the snack bowl and a display of jarred pig fetuses I’d stolen from Science class?”
She made a strangled noise. “Y-yes. Is this the same thing?”
“Absolutely not. That party was terrible. It didn’t even have a theme. But my point is we don’t have the same tastes, and you would still findthisparty and my friends utterly grotesque, Mother. We’re all weird and gay.”
The bell on the door to the pizza place jingled as he pushed through. Piercing 8-bit sound effects from an arcade game made it hard to hear Mom’s reply. He turned up the volume on his phone as she said, “Did you break up with Zedd again?”
He swallowed and nearly bumped into the person behind him in line. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you always do the most dramatic things when you’re hurting. I might not understand the appeal of decorating with dissected animals–”
“There won’t be anything of the sort this time–”
“–but I want to be there for you no matter what.”
He sighed, tucking the phone against his ear as he picked up his order and left the restaurant. He loved Mom, but there was a clear divide between the activities he engaged in with her, and the ones he didn’t. Baking with her on the weekend or going to a flower show? Absolutely. Taking her to a Snake Milk concert or a showing of an independent horror film in an abandoned warehouse? Definitely not.
Mom was still talking. “And as for the other part, I have a whole stack of erotic sapphic paintings I did in college.”
Cosmo paused, staring at a fire hydrant on the corner. “You’re… You’re bi, Mom?”
“Honey, why do you think I kicked your father out after what he did to you? Aside from the fact that I love you unconditionally and would have done it regardless.”
Dad had been begrudgingly tolerant of Cosmo’s feminine traits as a kid, but he’d tried to throw Cosmo out at sixteen after catching him kissing a boy on the doorstep. Mom had thrown Dad out instead.
His heart swelled, and he crammed the memory back into the vault it came out of before he teared up on the sidewalk. No wonder she’d kept those paintings hidden.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked.
“Eh, it’s one of those things that just… I don’t know. I almost told you after kicking your father out, but I didn’t want to take away from what you were going through. You had queerfriends your own age who you could probably relate to better. I figured if I ever got a girlfriend, though, I’d let you know.”
He chuckled. “You can come to the party. If you want. Of course you can.”
“I want to decorate.”
“Absolutely.” He said goodbye, then tucked the phone back in his pocket. Mom’s revelation floated with him as he walked home. Snores drifted from the bed as Cosmo came back inside. Hopefully Zedd didn’t have anywhere to be this afternoon.
Detouring into the bathroom, he was met with yet another message that Cosmo needed to stop playing Soft Cell. Odd. Soft Cell wasn’t even going right now. And that wasn’t much of a flirt.
Well, the lug needed to get out of bed and eat anyway. Cosmo slid his pink LP ofCruelty Without Beautyout of the sleeve, flipped it to side B, and set it on the platter. He pushed the power button on the receiver, cranked the volume knob, and set the stylus on “Desperate.”
Zedd startled at the sudden blast of synthesizer, then sat up in bed and rubbed his face. “Jesus. What time is it?”
“Pizza time, darling. Put some clothes on.”
Zedd pulled on his pants, shook a cigarette from his pack on the coffee table, and walked out onto the balcony. Cosmo headed into the bathroom and picked up his marker.
I LIKE KEEPING YOU UP
He ran a blush-pink lipstick across his lips, then kissed the mirror. Things were going to be okay. It was different this time.
A gentle hand grazed his shoulder. He smiled and turned, prepared to kiss the rest of the lipstick off on Zedd.
