“It is.” Mom's voice was quiet. “But Grant, I want you to know—I'm okay. Really. I was scared at first, but then I got angry. These people don't get to make me ashamed of my son. Either of you.”
“I'm sorry I brought this to your door,” I said.
“You didn't. The media did. And they're going to leave eventually because this town is boring and there's no story here except a mother who loves her son.” She leaned forward, eyes serious. “Grant, I meant what I said when you told me about being bisexual. Nothing changed. Not then, not now. I don't care who you love. I just care that you're happy.”
“I am,” I said quietly. “Happier than I've been in a long time.”
She looked at Jace, then back at me. “Good. Then that's all that matters.”
Jace shifted beside me, and I saw him struggling with something. Then he spoke, voice careful. “Can I ask—are you okay with this? With us? Because I know it's complicated. The coach-player thing. The age difference. The media making it look worse than it is.”
Mom was quiet for a moment, and I held my breath waiting for her answer.
“I'll tell you what I told Grant when he came out to me,” she said finally. “I don't care what anyone else thinks. I don't care what the media says or what the league says or what strangers on the internet say. What I care about is whether my son is being treated well. Whether he's respected. Whether he's loved.” Her eyes moved to me. “And from what I can see, he is.”
“As for the complicated parts,” she continued, “I'm not naive. I know there are power dynamics. I know people will judge. But I also know my son. And if Grant says this is real, if he says this matters, then I believe him. Because he's never been the type to do anything halfway.”
Jace let out a breath I don't think he knew he was holding. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”
“You're welcome, honey.” She smiled at him and then stood up. “I'm going to make us some lunch. You boys must be starving after that flight. Cal, help me in the kitchen.”
“I'm not a boy, I'm thirty-four?—”
“Calvin.”
He rolled his eyes but followed her, and I heard them talking quietly in the kitchen, giving Jace and me a moment alone.
“Your mom is amazing,” Jace said quietly.
“Yeah. She is.”
“And she really doesn't care? About any of it?”
“She cares that I'm happy. Everything else is just noise to her.” I turned to face him. “I'm sorry the media found her. I should've been more careful.”
“This isn't your fault.” He reached for my hand. “Grant, we knew this would happen eventually. We can't control everything.”
“I know. But I wanted to protect her from it.”
“I get it. But she's tougher than you think.” He squeezed my hand. “And she's got Cal here. And us. And June's on her way to handle the legal side.”
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Cal answered it, and June walked in looking like she'd just stepped off a four-hour flight and was not happy about it. She had her phone in one hand, frustration written all over her face.
“Grant. Jace.” She didn't bother with pleasantries. “Mrs. Sutherland, I'm June Park. We spoke on the phone.”
“Call me Helen, please.” Mom shook her hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“I wish I didn't have to.” June set her bag down and turned to me and Jace, expression hard. “I told you both—explicitly told you—not to be seen together in public. And what do I find when I land? A dozen photos of you two arriving here. Together. At Grant's family home.”
“We were careful—” Jace started.
“Careful would have been arriving separately. Careful would have been one of you waiting an hour. Careful would have been literally anything except pulling up to the same house at the same time in front of cameras.” She rubbed her temple. “Do you understand what this looks like? Family introduction. Serious relationship. Exactly the narrative we're trying to downplay.”
I kept my voice level. “We needed to get here. The media was already camped outside.”
She pulled out her tablet, scrolling through something. “Now I'm dealing with headlines about 'meeting the parents' and 'taking it to the next level.' This is the opposite of laying low.”
Mom cleared her throat. “June, they're already here. What's done is done. What do we do now?”
