Page 79 of Summer Lessons

Julie hadn’t said much about Terry’s bid for independence—but then, Terry hadn’t given her much of a chance to.

They went inside, where she was sitting in the small, recently refloored living room, watching television with dead eyes.

“Mom, we’re done with the eaves and I’m taking off,” Terry said, acting for all the world like he did this all the time.

“It’s Sunday!” she protested, looking up from the TV. “Who’s gonna make dinner?”

“Well, Mom, since there’s all those nice soups in the fridge and some salads in a bag, I figured you could do it. Dinner’s been made!” He sent Mason an exasperated look before trotting up the recently repaired stairs to his eight-by-eight bedroom. Mason had been in it a couple of times while they’d been repairing the house, and each time he looked in vain for something, somewhere, some indication of who Terry was becoming. Mostly he saw a green-and-blue comforter and pictures of soccer teams on the walls. And those were recent.

But then, there wasn’t room for much more than the bed and a dresser with his computer on it. Maybe, like a lot of tech guys Mason knew, all of Terry’s personality was in the little box on his drawer.

Or maybe he wasn’t the kind of guy who posted pictures and looked up porn.

Mason was very much looking forward to finding out.

“I don’t know where he thinks he’s going,” Julie Jefferson grumbled. “He’s got work tomorrow.”

“He can leave for work from my house,” Mason said neutrally. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. You just love having him over there so you can make him all fucking gay. You think you’re a big man, right? With the fancy clothes and the car. You’re a fuckin’pervert, and you’ve made my son one too. Fucking pansy-assed pervert. I can hardlywaituntil all this shit with the house is done—he won’t have any excuse to hang out with you no more.”

Ouch. Well, it was no more than Mason feared—but it hurt, and he was goaded into cruelty with his response.

“Whether he hangs with me or not is between us. But he’s certainly not going to be hanginghere—not after he finds an apartment.”

“He’s going towhat?” she shrieked, and Mason winced. Well, apparently Terry had saved this little tidbit for later, not that Mason blamed him.

“Uh—”

“Hey, Mom—taking off. See you tomorrow night. Late. Got stuff to do after work.”

Mason and Julie both turned toward his voice as he pattered down the stairs, a duffel bag with the logo of his tech company slung over his shoulder.

“You’re moving out?” she demanded as he approached the landing. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Mason glared at him too. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I told you months ago,” he snapped.

“That wasn’t real!” she yelled.

“Oh!” Mason stopped glaring. “I’m sorry. I should have known better. Yeah, c’mon, Terry. Let’s let her calm down.”

“You think you’re so high-and-mighty,” she snarled at Mason. “Talking about me like I’m not right here!”

“Well, you don’t talk to us like we’re human,” Mason said back. “I’m just returning the favor.”

Terry came to where he was standing and bobbed his head toward the door. Back in January this exchange would have destroyed him, rendered him helpless, negated all of the strength and personal growth he’d worked so hard to achieve. But now he managed to ignore her, to hold himself together, and to function in the face of her vitriol.

Mason turned and followed Terry out, her ranting echoing at their backs.

Terry’s composure didn’t slip until Mason went for his car and Terry went for his. Terry paused and looked at Mason beseechingly.

“Look, I know this is a lot to ask,” he started, and Mason’s heart melted.

Four months ago he had barely accepted a ride from IHOP.

“Sure I’ll take you to my place and drop you off,” he said. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”