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“Maybe we’ll need to hire Mason to help your dad out.” She smirked. “Not that we could afford him.”
“Doubtful,” I said half-heartedly, then turned away to clean the other surfaces, hoping she didn’t note how I tensed at the mention of his name.
“How is Mason?” Mom asked in a tentative voice, not a moment later.
“Why do you ask?” I threw over my shoulder.
“No reason, just haven’t seen him lately.” My family noticed everything, so for Mom to ask this wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it still made me feel on edge.
“Finals are coming up, and our last game of the season.” I averted my gaze. “We’re all pretty busy.”
When she didn’t respond, I thought the conversation was over. But then she stopped me dead in my tracks. “You care about him. Just like he cares about you.”
“Yeah, sure, we’ve become good friends,” I replied, and that was true enough. I could’ve taken that as my opening to divulge some things about my sexuality, but as it turned out, it didn’t matter how loving my family was, the words got stuck in my throat like thick taffy. I couldn’t shake the deep-seated fear that my revelation might change how they regarded me, and that was scary as fuck.
I could only imagine what it was like for Maclain, whose worse fears had been realized the other night. So who knew how I’d respond if the same thing happened to me? But whereas I would undoubtedly seek out support from other friends, Maclain tended to turn his pain inward, to the detriment of everyone around him, not to mention himself.
I should feel lucky he’d let me in at all. This had been one of the best years of my life, and I’d always be grateful to him for it.
“You care more deeply for him than you did your girlfriend last year,” Mom said, and I nearly dropped the sugar container I was holding.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Honey.” Sliding behind me, she placed her hand over my shaking fingers to steady them. “It’s okay.”
I nodded numbly but still couldn’t dislodge that ball of fear from my chest.
“Does Dad suspect too?” My voice sounded thin and reedy to my own ears.
“Of course. We know you, Nickie,” she replied in a soothing tone and, ah fuck, I wondered how long ago they’d guessed it. Probably even before Easter dinner. “We support you no matter what. And right now, you’re hurting.”
I finally turned to face her and allowed her to pull me into a warm embrace. Holy fuck. Why did this feel like such an enormous release? I swallowed the emotion clogging my throat as I soaked in my mom’s scent, which always brought me comfort.
“Thank you. I love you,” I said into her shoulder, then drew away to swipe at my eyes with my forearm. “I knew—well, I hoped—I’d have your support, but I didn’t realize how difficult the conversation would be. All these feelings came out of nowhere for me, and I’ve been struggling to…to figure it all out.”
“My sweet boy.” She brushed my bangs from my forehead. “I’m sure it’s been scary and confusing. For both of you.”
I nodded, appreciating her care and warmth. “So imagine Mason’s stepdad, who happens to be homophobic, finding out. He’s the only family he has.”
Her eyes wrinkled with worry. “Is that what happened?”
“Yeah. We went out to do something so simple—grabbing dinner together for the first time,” I explained, and her eyes softened. “His dad saw us, and it was…awful.”
“Oh no.” She drew me into a hug again as if I was an extension of him. “You tell Mason we can be his family.”
I squeezed her harder, wishing it could be true. If only it were that simple…
But maybe it was. I’d overheard Jasmine and Kellan talking one day about the LGBTQ community on campus. They used the words found family for those who weren’t accepted by their own, and now I understood it all too well. Though I wasn’t so sure Maclain would be brave enough to put himself out there again.
“Thanks, Mom.” I pulled back to kiss her on the cheek.
“What’s with all the hugging?” Gemma asked, swinging around the counter. “What did I miss?”
Mom chuckled as we stepped apart. “Just a mom-and-son moment.”
“Well, I want a moment too,” she said, and it reminded me of when she was younger and even poutier. “How about a brother-and-sister one?”
Mom winked at me. “I’m sure Dominic would love to have one.”
“C’mon.” I threw my arm around her shoulder and led her toward the end of the counter. “Help me fill up these salt and pepper shakers for tomorrow.”
Mom turned up the music and hummed to herself as we finished our remaining chores. This was one of my favorite times of day, even though we were usually tired and sometimes cranky after hours. The other night when Maclain had been here—when I’d last fucked him and, Jesus, that’d been hot—I’d caught him humming an old-school Motown tune with Mom. She’d put him to work straightening and wiping down the stools, and when I’d teased him, he just hummed louder and pretended to ignore me. Mom had cracked up and hummed louder in solidarity, Maclain’s cheeks had darkened and, yeah, it had felt perfect.
