Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

gay."
    "I'm bisexual, Mom."
    "Bisexual… bisexuals sleep with anyone?"
    "Bisexual means I can be attracted to either gender. It doesn't mean I'll jump into bed with just anyone."
    "Then— then you could just… find a nice girl. Right?"
    "Sure. Except I fell in love with a man."
    "But—"
    "Marcia Louise Tucker Blake," Lilia said, "how many told you not to marry a cop, to marry a banker instead? I don't recall you ever giving Larry Moore the time of day."
    Mom shook her head. "That's different. That's— oh, forget it." She sat back to rub her temples. "Okay. Okay. I— Lilia, if I swear I won't say a word against this Alan and I won't berate Lukas either, will you let him out of your sight? I want to take a walk, and I'd like to talk to my son."
    "The rain's quit," Lilia said, getting up to look out the window. "Best go before it starts again."
    Outside Mom rolled her head on her neck, stretching, then tucked her arm through mine and leaned her head on my shoulder. "I never wanted you to go so far away," she said with a little laugh, "but I told myself Lilia would look after you. It seems I was right!"
    "We've grown very fond of each other," I said. "I'd defend her too, even in the face of something so terrifying as an angry mom."
    "Not angry," Mom said. "Not really. Just very, very confused. Take me for a nice walk, Lukas, and show me something pretty, and help me understand."
    "If you met Alan, Mom, I think you'd understand." Maybe. If he wasn't on the defensive, but how would I make that happen when she'd probably give him every reason to be defensive?
    "Then take me for a walk and tell me about him," Mom ordered.
    So I walked her over to the graveyard as I told her about the project, and how Alan's ideas had enhanced everything the rest of us came up with. I pointed out the tree he'd challenged in defense of Twiggy's honor. We walked around the graveyard looking at stones while I told her about that near-perfect day on Two-Face. As we trudged back through the mud of the field, she sighed.
    "I've always trusted you, Lukas. Maybe too much."
    "Mom—"
    "No, let me finish. You've always been my rock, and it wasn't fair. Just because I could lean on you, doesn't mean I should have. You were nine. I shouldn't have let you take a job."
    "Mowing Mr. Cotter's lawn wasn't really a job. He paid me a lot more than the work was worth."
    "And you worked for Mrs. Wilson, washing her cat, and weeded Mr. Benoit's flower beds, and— well. You took weight off my shoulders and I let you, and you took more, far more than any child should have to bear. I've always worried that I let you trade your childhood for early-old-man, Lukas. Even Will laughs more than you do."
    "Mom—"
    "Lukas. I'm trying to say—" She stopped and looked up at me. "I'm trying to say that I really like what Alan does to your face." She smiled. "I say his name, and it's like dawn breaking. How could I disapprove of that?"
    I hugged her hard and she laughed.
    "Easy on an old woman!" she said. "Now do you think I'm safe to go back in Lilia's house?"
    "If you're on Alan's side, she's on yours," I promised.
    "I'll take it." She took my arm again and I walked her up the porch steps. "I want to meet him," she said. "Should we ask Lilia to invite him to dinner tonight?"
    "I have to work, but for Lilia he might—"
    "No, that wouldn't be right," Mom said, flicking her fingers. "You can't get out of work?"
    "I can't call off on an hour's notice, no. I'll see if I can get tomorrow off."
    "Threaten them with me," Mom suggested. "Tell them your mother is a scary, scary woman who wants to meet your boyfriend. Immediately."
    To do that, I'd have to tell Jamal I had a boyfriend. And a mother.
    Well, he'd probably assumed the existence of a mother.
    I tried to call Alan before I left for work, but he didn't answer. I wondered if that was a bad sign, but it was one phone call, and we'd exchanged texts the night before. He was probably just busy. Got called in to work, maybe.
    "Don't leave a message," his voicemail said. "If you do, I might call you back. We could end up communicating, and that would be awkward."
    "I miss you," I said after the beep. "I'd still like to come over tonight. Either way, I'd like to see you tomorrow night. I'm trying to get the night off." I wanted to tell him about Mom, but thought I should do that in person. It was probably inevitable that he'd think of his own mother, and that could doom the entire night. "Do you like Chinese?" I asked, since