Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,72

I had a lease to break, and then I needed to get to work packing up my meager belongings and figure out how I was going to move. “I’ve been busy getting settled, plus I’ve been working a lot.”

“Surely your job gives you time off. What’s really going on? Is this because of Jennifer? Your father and I adored her, but if being with her doesn’t make you happy, then we support whatever you decide.”

“Do you mean that?”

I had avoided my parents partly because I wasn’t sure how to tell them I was seeing a man. They were very open-minded, but they were extremely close to Jennifer, so I was worried about what their reactions would be. My feelings for Stellan ran deeper than magma, but I didn’t want to disappoint my family.

“Of course, I mean that. You’re my son, and I only want you to be happy.”

“No matter who I’m seeing?” I hedged and pressed my thumb and finger into my eyes, pressing so hard I saw spots behind my closed lids. I tried to tell myself the tears that sprung to my eyes were from the pain I caused them and not from worry.

“Are you seeing someone new? Well, that’s wonderful. What’s her name? Do I know her? What does she do?”

My panic increased at the barrage of questions she fired at me. I gripped my phone so tightly my hand ached, but I couldn’t loosen my hold. Not when dread settled like a rock in my stomach and a lump formed in my throat so big that it was difficult to breathe. Or maybe that was from the anxiety squeezing my lungs.

I cleared my throat a few times, trying to clear the lump so I could speak.

“Are you getting sick?” my mother asked, her concern causing the tears to course down my cheeks.

“No,” I managed to choke out. “No, I’m not getting sick. And no, you don’t know who I’m seeing. His name is Stellan, and he plays saxophone in a very popular jazz band and works as a mechanic at Baker’s.”

There. I’d done it. I’d just come out to my mother, and there was no going back now. All I could do was wait and pray that she didn’t hate me.

Her silence was deafening, and I pulled my phone away and pried my fingers from my eyes to check the connection. She was still there, so maybe she was trying to process the information I’d just given her. And when I put the phone back to my ear, I couldn’t help but say something.

“Mom? Are you still there?”

“I am. I just needed a minute, and I have so many questions to ask you, but they need to be done in person.”

“I understand.”

“Are you free Sunday?”

I nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see me. “I am.”

“Good. Come over so we can talk and bring that young man with you so your father and I can meet him.”

“R-really? You want to meet him?”

“Foster Andrew Morgan, you are my son. All I want is for you to be happy, and I don’t care if that happiness comes in the form of a man or a woman, just as long as they treat you well. And if they do that, then who am I to judge what body parts they have?”

“What about Dad?”

“Don’t you worry about him. He’ll agree with everything I just said to you. And if your young man repairs cars and plays in a jazz band, they’ll have plenty to talk about.”

A deep, relieved sigh ran through me as fresh tears started to pour. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too. No more hiding from me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll see you both on Sunday.”

She hung up the phone before I could say anything else, and I found myself staring out my windshield in disbelief. That just happened. My parents knew about Stellan and were okay with it. On top of that, the ink on my new lease probably wasn’t even dry yet. I couldn’t wait to tell Stellan about everything that had happened and invite him over to my parents’ on Sunday. And tonight, when I saw him playing at his gig, would be the perfect time.

Fucking traffic and bad time management. I was late getting to the bar to watch The Messengers play. I was putting my foot to the floor and breaking way too many traffic laws to get there when I couldn’t afford the expense of a speeding ticket. But I wanted to be there—since he