Second Hand: A Tucker Springs Novel 2

happy?”
It didn’t surprise me when she teared up and sat down beside me, taking my hand and pressing it tight against her chest, over her warm and rapidly beating heart. “Yes. Absolutely.” She said the words like a vow.
“No matter what?” I said, wishing I could let the cat out of the bag without letting her know there was a cat at all.
She caught my other hand too and drew it to her mouth. “Paul, sweetheart—yes. Yes, I will love you even though you’re gay.”
I blinked for several seconds, sure I couldn’t have heard her right. Except I was also, contrarily, sure I had. “Mom?” I said, my voice cracking.
She made this funny cooing sound and stroked my cheek. “It’s okay, baby. I know. I’ve always known.”
“Mom, I haven’t even said anything yet.”
She hesitated. “Well—you are gay, yes?”
“I don’t know!” I leaned back and shoved my hand into my damp hair. “How—?”
She laughed. “How did I know? Paul, I’ve known since you were eight and I caught you masturbating in front of the TV to Bo and Luke Duke.”
If the battery had still been in the smoke alarm, I’m sure my face would have set it off again. I’d completely forgotten about that day, but I remembered now. “Mom.”
She stopped laughing, but her expression was calm and soothing as she petted my hand, my arm, my knee, whatever she could reach. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Of course I love you, and so does your father.”
“Dad knows?” My voice was so high soon only dogs would be able to hear it. How in the hell was this happening to me? “How? I didn’t even know until a few days ago. And I still don’t even know. I think I might be bi.”
“Whichever is fine, honey. So long as you’re happy, that’s what matters. Of course we didn’t know, but yes, we suspected. All the literature told us to let you come to us with it, so we were waiting.”
They’d been reading literature? “But I was engaged! To a woman!”
“You did say you might be bi, yes?” When I sputtered, she started patting me again. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Does it matter what you are? Do you really need a label? Can’t you just be Paul, who loves people however they come to him?” She winked at me. “Though I’d love to hear that bitch Stacey was just a phase.”
I kept shaking my head, not knowing what to say. She moved her patting to my back.
“There, there, honey. Go ahead and breathe. I’m still here, and I still love you.”
I pushed her hands away. “That was Stacey on the phone. She wants to come back to me. She begged me.”
For the first time in the conversation, my mom frowned. “Have you tried porn, honey? I hear the Internet is full of it and that the gay stuff is really top notch.”
“Mom.”
She flattened her lips. “Well, fine, but please don’t take her back. That woman never loved you, not like you deserve. She used you and treated you like you were something she picked up at that pawnshop.”
The knife that had been hovering over my chest ever since she’d unveiled that damn panini press drove right into my heart. “That—that’s El, Mom. The guy who gave you the panini press. My . . . boyfriend.”
Her face lit up like I’d told her I’d won ten million dollars. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful! You need to get him to quit smoking, of course, but he was so charming, so kind. And so handsome. Why in the world are you thinking about taking Stacey back when you have him?”
I have no idea.
Except I did, and finally, finally the chipmunk let go of the question I’d been wanting to ask her ever since I came out of the bedroom. “But Mom, what if I don’t want to be gay, or bi, or anything but normal?”
My mother’s face turned to steel. “Paul Allan Hannon, you are normal. Who you are is not a choice. If you’re gay or bi, you’re gay or bi, and that’s that. You can’t choose to be straight if it isn’t who you are.” She searched my face a few moments, and then hers fell. “I should have told you that when you were younger, shouldn’t I?”
I swallowed against a throat that was suddenly dry and scratchy. “Maybe.”
She kissed me on the cheek, tears running down her face, and when she pulled back, I had tears too.
“Eat your dinner,” she said, “and then we’re going to go buy a few more things for this fantastic yard of yours. Then we’re going to stay up late talking about boys, and girls too so long as they aren’t Stacey, and tomorrow morning you’re going to