Page 30 of A Case of You

Once it was only the three of them, they locked up the house and retired to the bedroom.

Stuart knew he couldn’t delay the call any longer.

“Can I take one of your Xanax?” Stuart only half-joked to Jeff, who sat on Stuart’s left on the edge of the bed. Brandon flanked Stuart on his right.

Brandon cupped his chin. “You don’t have to make this call if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I kinda have to.” He stared at his phone. “I need to learn to stand up to them. I can’t let my emotions about them control my life with the two of you.” He finally called up their house number in his contacts and dialed, putting the phone in speaker mode.

It rang three times before his mom answered. “Hello?”

His throat threatened to lock up. “Hey, Mom. It’s me.”

A slightly awkward pause followed. “Hi, Stuart.”

He took a deep breath and plunged in with the feel of Brandon and Jeff’s arms around him. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

It immediately became painfully obvious to Stuart that he had nothing in common with his mother, and he was hesitant to bring up discussions of Emma and her swimming or school, or anything relating to his life there in Florida except maybe his job.

She damn sure wasn’t making it easy on him.

“I talked to Eileen,” he said. “She invited us to the wedding.”

“I know. She told us. We’re okay with it. I told you that I love you. I don’t agree with what you’re doing, or understand why you’re doing it, but my pastor said if you want to go to hell, that’s your business. Love the sinner and hate the sin.”

He could tell Brandon wanted to snatch the phone from his hand and tell her to go to hell, but he somehow resisted.

“Brandon’s coming with me,” Stuart said. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Is that one ofthosemen?”

Stuart closed his eyes. “Yes, he’s one of my husbands.”

“You’re not married to them, so they’re not your husbands.”

What he couldn’t understand, beyond the obvious, was how her tone could remain so steady and even, as if discussing any bland topic.

This bread is stale.

That cat is pretty.

They’re not your husbands.

“I won’t argue semantics with you, Mom. Theyaremy husbands. I’m sorry you don’t agree with me being happy with two men who love me.”

“I’d rather not talk about that, please. You have no idea how upset that has me and your father, that you’ll be going to Hell.”

I already lived through hell once.

But he didn’t say that. “Since I disagree with your religion, I’d rather not talk about that, please.”

Stalemate.

“So why isn’t the other one coming with you?” she finally asked.

“Jeff has Lyme disease.”