The doorbell rang. Richard groaned. “What now?”
“I'll get it,” I said. “It might be the press.” I had already decided I'd talk to them, but not in our home.
I answered the door, expecting to see anyone but who stood on the other side.
My mother stared back at me, her eyes sad and hollow but focused on my own.
I was torn between slamming the door in her face and asking her for the truth I needed to hear. I didn't have time to do either. She barreled through the open door and flung her arms around me.
“Oh, Luke. He said he could make the charges go away.” Her arms squeezed tighter. “He said he'd get you help if I let you go.”
Charges? Help? Fowler had been right. Somehow my father had convinced her to stay away from me. And it didn't sound like he had used the truth.
She released me and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Come in.” I gestured for her to follow. We passed by the dining room with Richard and Matthew gawking at us. She gave them a small smile and a nod but said nothing.
Richard stood. “Ma'am, if you're here to hurt him in any way, you'll leave. He's been through enough. It's time for him to move on.”
Her mouth opened, but she clamped it shut before speaking. Couldn't she promise him what he needed to hear?
“It's okay,” I said. “I need to hear her out.”
Richard stared at her for another moment, then sat.
I continued on to the living room, and she followed. We each settled in a chair. The tension and unease filled the space between us. I said nothing as I watched her.
She stared at the hands on her lap. “You have a nice home.”
I nodded my thanks. I had nothing to explain, nothing to apologize for, and nothing to be ashamed of.
She took a deep breath and gave her fingers one last twist. “I knew your father had a problem with you being gay as soon as you told us. I knew he'd think it would hurt him politically. But I had no idea the lengths he'd go to, or I would have left him then.” Tears fell onto her cheeks. She swiped at them and continued.
“After you left for college, I found out he was paying men for sex. I asked him for a divorce. That's when he told me about the night you were arrested.”
Arrested? I leaned back against the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. This wasn't going to be good.
She spoke again, her voice unsteady. “He said you'd been having unprotected sex with men for drug money. He said he bailed you out of jail and begged you to stop— the drugs and the prostitution. But you wouldn't promise him anything.”
The tears gushed, and she didn't even try to catch them. “He wanted you out of our lives and said he'd help you if I agreed not to see you anymore. He said he'd get the charges dropped and keep you enrolled in school. He knew of a rehab program that would take you against your will and keep you there until you were clean. I didn't want you to get sick. I didn't want you to end up dead. I told myself all that mattered was getting you help.” She met my shocked stare. “It was all a lie, wasn't it?”
My one-word answer would break her heart more. Yet none of it was my fault, and at least she'd know the whole truth— about her husband, about me.
“Yes.”
She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. I fetched her a tissue and gave her a few minutes before I continued. When she could look at me again, I told her about Tim and how I'd loved him. About how my losing him was the first of my father's attempts to control me.
When I was done, she cried more.
“I knew... I knew in my heart my boy was a good man. A man who could love. I should never have believed him. I should have gone to you.”
“Dad helped take Tim from me, and he helped take away my ability to let anyone else in.” I glanced up. Richard and Matthew stood in the doorway. “But I've got it back now.”
She followed my gaze. “I see that.”
I smiled at them. Richard returned the gesture and tilted his head toward the stairs.
“No, stay. I have nothing to hide from you.”
He put his arm around Matthew, and they stepped into the room.
My mother watched them move past until they sat on the couch. She looked back at me. “I know I can't come in here and ask for your forgiveness. It isn't that simple. I may not have known everything he was up to, but I let him push you away from us, and I didn't do anything to stop it. I didn't try to talk to you, to help you.” She lowered her head. Everything about her radiated shame. It comforted me despite the pain she was feeling.
“Part of me felt betrayed when I learned you were gay. That was something I needed to work through. I didn't. I believed his lies. I let your father's hatred for who you were— and his hatred for himself— taint my own ability to love you and accept you.” She raised her head. “I know I can't expect anything. That's not why I'm here. I want to start by apologizing. I am sorry. So sorry, sweetheart. I've let him tell me what to do for a long time. But that's done. You're a good boy— a good man. I heard that when you came to our house. I stood in the hallway and listened to him threaten you.”
Knowing she had heard
