Page 74 of Him

His grin is wry. “There are benefits.”

“Yeah? Hit me. What’s good about going gay?” I nudge him back under the table.

“Well,dicks,” he says. “Obvs.”

“Obvs.”

He smiles. “Okay, now picture this. You wake up on a weekend beside your really hot boyfriend, and fuck like horny hedgehogs for a couple of hours. Then you spend the rest of the day watching sports on television, and nobody ever says”—he pitches his voice high—“honey, you said we could go to the mall!”

Now I’m laughing. “And I guess you can leave the toilet seat up, right?”

Wes spreads his hands. “See? Benefits everywhere. And here’s one more—the parents don’t nag you for grandchildren.”

“I have five siblings,” I point out. “They’re guaranteed at least a basketball team.”

The waiter brings our beers, and I actually give him a wink before he goes.

“Look at you!” Wes crows after he walks away. “You could be good at this.”

“Like it’s hard?” Wes is grinning at me, and I hate to kill the mood. But I realize that I’ve got a question for him that’s been bothering me. “What did your parents say when you told them?”

His face falls. “Well. At first they didn’t believe me. My mother said, ‘This is just a phase.’ And my father said nothing.”

“When was this?”

“Freshman year of college. I decided to tell them on the way to my grandfather’s house for Thanksgiving. We were all trapped in the car together.”

“Nice timing.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t even know what to do with that reaction. It never occurred to me they’d just sort of ignore me. Though in retrospect it makes plenty of sense.”

His dull admission brings an ache to my heart. It also makes me wonder how my own family would react if they knew I was hooking up with a guy. But no matter how many times I try to picture their expressions filling with horror or disgust, I can’t see it. Support is all I’ve ever gotten from them.

“So what did you do?” I ask, hoping my inner distress doesn’t show on my face.

“Well, Canning, this is me we’re talking about here. So I got really fucking mad. And next time I was home on break I picked up a guy at a party and blew him in the family room when I knew they were on their way home.”

Yikes. “That probably got the point across.”

Wes takes a long pull of his beer and I watch his strong throat work. “It did the trick. My dad did all the yelling I expected him to do the first time. He said I was disgusting. And that I was going to fuck up my hockey career. Hell. That’s still his biggest concern.”

Ouch. “What does your mom say?” He never mentions her. How can a mother not defend her son?

“She’s his yes man and pearl-clutcher-in-chief. So she never says much.”

Shit, Ireallykilled the mood. But luckily our appetizers arrive a moment later, and we’re happy again. Sometimes it’s just that easy.

TWENTY-SEVEN

WES

I drive us a mile farther up the road to the park where the band is playing. Neither of us has ever been to this place before, but it’s nice. A lawn runs all the way down to the water. A band shell has been set up near the shore, and people of all ages are settling down on the grass.

We find a spot easily enough. I sit down, but Jamie doesn’t. “Shit. I didn’t think this through,” he says, eyeing his rather nice pair of khaki shorts.

I look up at him. “And here I thought I was the gay dude.”

He smacks the top of my head. “Tomorrow is Pat’s parents’ weekend. I’m just trying to represent.”