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I made the excuse of wanting to wash my hands and went into the restaurant in search of Lorenzo’s mom. She’d propped open an employee exit with a bucket and was outside smoking. When I joined her, she looked guilty and said, “Stan hates it when I smoke, but he’s nice enough to pretend he doesn’t notice the smell on my clothes when I sneak one.” For the first time, I realized she had a faint Spanish accent.
“He seems like a great guy.”
“He is.”
“You know who else is a great guy? Lorenzo. In fact, he’s the kindest, sweetest, and most loving person I’ve ever met, and he deserves a hell of a lot better than the way you’re treating him.”
“I can’t help it,” she insisted, as her hand went to the gold cross she wore on a flashy chain. “I was raised to believe what you and he are doing is a sin.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Marquez, but that’s bullshit,” I said, as I let my natural accent return to my speech. “I was raised in a redneck town in rural Louisiana. Everyone around us was racist, xenophobic, homophobic—you name it, they probably hated it. But like my parents before me, I made the choice to think for myself, and not to use religion as an excuse to hate other people.”
“I don’t hate you, or my son.”
“Maybe not, but you don’t accept us either, and you know for a fact that’s hurting Lorenzo. Don’t you see he’s exactly the same person he’s always been? He didn’t just wake up one day and decide to be bisexual. It’s how God made him, and it’s who he’s been all along, even when he was too afraid to come out. You don’t have to like it. But you also really don’t have to let it ruin your relationship.”
“I’m too old to change,” she said.
“That’s just an excuse.”
I started to leave, and she called, “Will?” When I turned back to her, there was a lot of emotion in her dark eyes. “You’ll take care of him for me, won’t you?”
“Every day, for the rest of my life. I adore your son, and I plan to marry him one day. If that makes you uncomfortable, I actually feel sorry for you.”
I went back inside and found Lorenzo right where I’d left him, and I asked, “Are you ready to go?” He nodded, and we both said goodbye to Stan before heading to the rental car.
Since Lorenzo had been drinking, I got behind the wheel. We drove in silence for a few minutes before he said quietly, “You smell like cigarettes. That must mean you talked to my mom.”
“I did.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked me to take care of you. I told her that had always been my plan.”
He asked, “Did you yell at her?”
“Nah. Yelling doesn’t accomplish anything. I just let her know you deserve better than the way she’s been treating you.”
“Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Always.”
Our lodging for the night was a chain hotel near the capitol building. After we checked in, Lorenzo decided he wanted a shower. While he was in the bathroom, I pulled out my phone and made some plans for the next two days, since we’d decided against remaining in Tallahassee.
He seemed tired when he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. It was as if his usual spark had been dulled somehow. But he smiled when he saw what I’d done in the room and asked, “Did you really pack candles, barware, and alcohol in your luggage?”
I joked, “Uh, yeah. Doesn’t everyone?” I’d turned down the bed, lowered the lights, and lit three travel candles in little round tins, which sat on the nightstand with a nice bottle of whiskey and a pair of shot glasses. I’d also stripped down to nothing but a cute pair of briefs, and I patted the mattress beside me and said, “Come here.”
When he joined me, I poured two shots of whiskey and clinked my glass against his as I said, “Cheers.” It burned all the way down. Then I said, “Why don’t you stretch out on your stomach, so I can give you a massage?”
“You don’t have to go to any trouble. I know I must seem depressed right now, but I’ll be fine.”
“After all you’ve done for me, let me take care of you for once, Lorie. Please?”
He climbed onto the bed like I’d asked, and I straddled his hips. Then I rubbed some of my nice, scented body lotion between my palms and went to work. It was so gratifying to see and feel him relaxing beneath me. He fell asleep soon after I finished the massage, and I kissed his forehead and pulled the blanket over both of us.
* * *
The next morning, I snuck out to get us some breakfast. When I returned to the room, Lorenzo was just waking up. I kissed his cheek, then put a small stuffed animal on his chest and said, “Happy Groundhog Day.”
