Into This River I Drown

“—care less what I do.”

“Maybe before, but this? Benji, how well do you even know this guy?” “We’re not doing anything!” I’m getting pissed off now.

“But you want to,” she says, turning back to me. “Benji, I can see it in your eyes. Even now, there’s something there. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Not since….” She can’t finish.

I look down at my hands, scraping my thumbnail against a chip on the countertop. “And you’re questioning it?” I ask bitterly. “You see me happy and you want to stop it? How fucking fair is that?”

“Benji—”

“And since when did you give a rat’s ass about me being gay? It’s never been an issue before. Or at least it wasn’t for Dad.”

“That’s not fair,” she says, looking hurt. “I am just as much on your side as your father was.”

I feel like a bastard, but she was trying to push me into a corner. “You’ve got a weird way of showing it sometimes.”

“But—”

I wave my hand at her. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing’s going to happen. You don’t have anything to worry about. We’re too different.” Understatement.

She hesitates, looking unsure. But then she reaches out and covers my hand with her own. “I just want you to be safe,” she says, her voice cracking. She shakes her head angrily when I look up, obviously pissed at herself for breaking down in front of me. “You’re all I have left.”

“You have the Trio,” I say, trying to stop myself from pulling my hand away.

“You’re all I have left of him,” she says, and I understand.

“Mom,” I sigh, not wanting to think about it anymore. “Cal’s a good… guy. Just give him a chance, okay?”

She nods, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Everyone seems to like him,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I just worry about you.”

“Yeah. You are my mom, after all. It’s kind of in the job description.”

“And you better not forget it,” she says, bending over and kissing my hand on the counter. I look away before my own eyes start to water.

She grabs her bottle of water and turns and heads for the door. “I’ll expect you both for dinner soon,” she calls over her shoulder, our rare display of emotion held like a secret between us. “If he’s going to stick around and cause you to gaze out the window with that look in your eyes, I need to get to know him.” She pushes out the door before I can respond.

“I’m not gazing out the window!” I shout, even though I totally was. She waves her hand like she hasn’t heard me.

I scowl after her.

And I’m still scowling when he walks into the store thirty minutes later, numerous bags in his hands. “Benji,” he says with a grin.

“You,” I growl at him, “are in so much fucking trouble.”

He cocks his head at me, not looking particularly intimidated. “Why is that? Hey, I didn’t hate shopping like I thought I would. It was actually pretty okay. I got some pants from the pants store and there were these boots that almost didn’t fit my feet and I almost didn’t buy them because why would you need to wear boots when you can just walk bare—”

“I am pretty sure I don’t need a rundown of your entire day, since everyone you spoke to has already told me all about it.”

He has the decency to look somewhat guilty. “Ah. About that. See, I didn’t want to be rude and people were looking at me like they didn’t know me, so….”

“It’s because they don’t know you,” I remind him through gritted teeth.

“Well, yeah. And I felt bad, because I know them, so I thought it would be rude if I didn’t introduce myself. And then we got to talking about stuff, and before I knew it, I had talked to a lot of people. I still went shopping, though, like you asked,” he says, showing me the bags in his hand. “Even though I didn’t want to.”

I am incredulous. “Are you trying to guilt-trip me?”

“Is it working?”

“No!”