Chapter 2

“But my dad came to my rescue again. He still didn’t understand why I was attracted to men, and there was a part of him that still thought it was wrong. But I was his son, and that meant he backed me one hundred percent. His support and strength got me through the worst times in my life. It continues to be what gets me through the hard times. And that’s what I want you all to take away from this today. Even if you don’t understand it, even if you think it’s wrong, this is your child. Or sibling or niece or nephew or friend. And no matter what else, they deserve—noneed—your support.”

God, he was good. The confidence that he showed was inspiring, and he was eloquent and heartfelt. He started out a bit shaky with nerves, but as he settled into the topic, he just shone. I was a little bit in awe of him. He’d been an excellent choice for a speaker. I’d have to remember to compliment my father on finding him.

The room burst into hearty applause. I blinked, a little surprised. Joshua had apparently finished up his talk while I was ruminating. He stepped out from behind the podium and was instantly swarmed by people wanting to ask questions. He smiled a big, open grin, and listened as they spoke.

I caught sight of my mother approaching out of the corner of my eye. I straightened up and turned to her with a smile, nodding to my father, who was just behind her.

“He was really good,” I said to my mom as I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. I’d gotten my lack of height from her. She gave my arm a squeeze.

“Yes. Joshua is lovely. I’m very pleased he agreed to talk tonight,” she said in her soft voice. Then a gleam came into her eye. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Ah, so my mother had matchmaking on her mind when she’d begged me to come tonight. I shook my head a little ruefully, and tried to beg off. “He’s busy with his admirers.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mom dismissedmy objections with a wave of her hand. Her fingers curled around my wrist. “Come on.”

I shot my dad a panicked look, but he was no help. He just shrugged one of his big shoulders. “You know there’s no use arguing with her, kiddo. Your mother always gets her way.”

“Ben!” she admonished my dad indignantly. Then she grinned, letting the pretense go, and turned her gaze back to me. “He’s right, you know. Let’s go.”

I gave a very put-upon sigh but trailed along obediently as she led me to the front of the room. Mom knew exactly how to work things to her advantage. I should really take lessons.

We stood quietly at the edge of the group. My mother didn’t release her grip on my wrist. As soon as a little gap in the crowd opened, she pushed her way through, tugging me along behind her.

“Joshua, dear, that was wonderful,” Mom said as soon as she had the man’s attention.

I watched a light blush appear high on his cheeks as he rumbled, “Thank you, Mrs. Grant. It was my honor to be here.”

Mom patted his arm, and then took a step to the side, tugging me so that I was standing in front of him. She let go of my wrist. “Joshua, I’d like you to meet my son, William.”

“Will,” I corrected as I held out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rhinehardt. You were great up there.”

His blush intensified, but he took my hand in a warm, firm grip. “Call me Joshua. And that’s nice of you to say. Thank you.”

Our fingers slid against one another as he gently extricated himself from my grip. Little tingles raced up my arm from that contact. I was strangely reluctant to let go of his hand. I wanted to reach out and take it back, hold on to it a little longer. My mother, though, was completely oblivious to our interaction.

“Will here is the reason we started this of PFLAG in the first place.” Her pride was evident.

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes, but I did manage a smile. My mother had never seemed to grasp the concept that it was obvious to anyone who had eyes that I was gay. My mannerisms were a bit over the top, and I’d never tried to hide that. But even when I was standing still, my clothes were usually an excellent indication. If the fitted cashmere sweater didn’t give it away, the fact I was wearing skinny jeans should have. Straight guys never wore skinny jeans. I unabashedly embraced all the stereotypes, made them my own, because it just increased my fabulousness. I would readily admit I liked the positive attention. I was also somewhat addicted to nice clothes.