“Well, that’s no way to treat your boyfriend.”
I spun around so fast to stare at her, the glass rolled off the stack of dishes then hit the floor with a crash. Mom launched into protective mother mode, warning me back from the shattered glass on the linoleum as she wheeled herself to the kitchen cupboard for the broom and dustpan.
“Mom,” I managed to croak as she swept shards of glass into the long-handled dustpan. I hadn’t moved. Her dark eyes flickered to me. “Mom, I’m not…Will and I aren’t…what are you even talking about?”
She flattened her lips and placed the dustpan and broom aside. “Perry, honey, we know you’re gay.” The dishes in my hand started to rattle. Mom took them from me before we had more of a mess. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“Yeah, I think…yeah.” I sat back down in my seat. The same seat that had been mine since forever. “I…he…how did you know?”
She moved closer, carefully avoiding my splayed feet. A small hand gathered up one of my larger ones. I couldn’t look at her so the floor got my undivided attention.
“I’ve known for years.” That brought up my gaze from the yellow linoleum. She smiled then gave my rough hand a gentle squeeze. “I began to suspect when you were fourteen or so and that pretty little girl with the big doe eyes and blond hair was calling you every single day.”
“Maggie Langford,” I said as the memory of the cute little cheerleader blossomed in my mind. She’d been so popular, so sweet, so chesty even at fourteen. Every other guy in school lusted after her hard. Not me. I did my best to avoid her at school, partly for fear that she’d bat her lashes and rub that big chest against my arm and partly for fear that the overwhelmingly White student body would see her rubbing her chest on me then take it upon themselves to teach the half-breed a lesson about upstart Injuns eyeing White women. I spent a lot of time in the library. That was a safe zone. Maggie rarely spent time there. Eventually, she moved on to someone else, Dave Clancy, a real hellraiser. I had suspected she only came onto me to piss off her pastor father. It was a real slice of Footloose minus Kevin Bacon and that funky 80s hair. Dave knocked up Maggie then went to prison for armed robbery. Last I heard, she’d moved to Texas and married an Evangelical preacher. They had seven kids and one large revival tent.
“That’s the one. You never returned her calls. When I’d ask, you’d say you were looking for a girl with more inside her skull than inside her bra.”
“Didn’t buy that?”
“Not for a second. I can’t imagine any straight fourteen-year-old male who’s more into brains than boobs.” A wobbly smile played on my lips. “But we didn’t want to push you. We knew you’d come out when you were ready. You always did keep your emotions to yourself.”
“We? Does Kenruh know?”
She nodded. “He does. We’ve known forever it seems. He was the one who first commented about the way you look at Will Abbott. Then you two had that fencing trip and when you came back you were covered with hickeys.”
My jaw dropped. Shame tinted my neck then raced to my cheeks. “I was not covered.”
She chuckled. “Well, your grandfather likes to elaborate at times.”
“God I feel like…” I squeezed my eyes tightly shut to push back the tears that were welling up. “Stupid and scared.” When I opened my eyes my mother was looking at me with such empathy and love I coughed and sniffled. “I feel bad for hiding it from you, but I didn’t want to add to your worries. You’ve been through so much, Kenruh too, all the loss and hard times. I didn’t want to be another worry for you to deal with.”
“Honey, you being gay isn’t a worry. It’s who you are. How people will react to your gayness might be a concern, but you know me and your grandfather have never backed down from a fight in our lives. I don’t see us changing any time soon. So if some asshole wants to come at you about being queer, he’ll have to come through an old man and a mama bear in a wheelchair.” She growled low like a grizzly, which made me snort.
“I never wanted to be another burden,” I confessed.
“That is one thing you can never be. You’re the most joyous thing in our lives, Perry. You bring your grandfather and me such joy. We’re so proud of you, of how smart you are and how hard you work. We love you so much.” I choked on the emotions lodged in my throat. Mom pulled me closer. I leaned in, wrapped my arms around her, and held her tight until I had myself under control. “Your father would be so incredibly proud of you.”
That one did me in. She hugged me close as I cried, whispering gentle words as she stroked my hair as she had when I had been a little boy. I’d wished I knew my father better, or at all, but thankfully, I had Kenruh to fill in for that missing father figure. Silly fishing hat and raunchy jokes included. Speaking of which…
I sat back in my chair, used a dirty napkin to dry my face, and blew my nose. “It’s taking them a long time to dump scraps out for the chickens,” I said.
“Oh, they were at the window ten minutes ago. I waved them away.” Oh hell. Awesome. Will had seen me crying on my mommy. Great. That would be a thing for eternity. “Don’t look so stricken. It’s okay for men to have feelings.”
“I know.”
She rolled her eyes. “You say it, but you don’t believe it. They’re fine. They probably went for a walk down to the haunted old well at the end of the property line.”
Probably. Kenruh liked to fill people’s heads with horrifying tales of dead Indians that rose from the well to torment those who ventured too near. Which worked well when I was a kid. I never once went near that damn old well. Then it had been filled in by someone with a backhoe. Kenruh had dowsed for the guy in exchange for having the well filled and covered.
Knowing I’d hear shit all the way home I was ready for the teasing. Will had been the perfect guest and my mother was enchanted with him. Her words whispered in my ear when I kissed her on the cheek before we left. Enchanted. Kenruh also liked him. He only took folks he liked to the haunted well. Resting between us on the bench seat were enough leftovers to feed all the hands in the bunkhouse for a week. Will was humming along to a Conway Twitty song as he made swooping motions outside the window with his hand. Twilight had arrived, striping the sky behind the Tetons with brushstrokes of marigold, coral, and mulberry.
“I like this song,” he lazily proclaimed.
“Yeah, me too,” I replied, darting glances his way. “My mother and grandfather know about us.”
He nodded and swooped. “I know. He told me I needed to hide those love marks so people didn’t see them.” He chortled as Conway sang about make believing. “Also told me to be good to you, treat you with respect, and not hurt you. If I did hurt you, he said he would toss me down the haunted well.”
“That well was filled in years ago, but I kind of like the knowledge that my grandfather will beat you down if you treat me wrong.”