Chapter 87

On the second flight of stairs, he warns her, “His mom’s here, too. She’s not like you—”

“I’d imagine not,” his mother says, her voice terse. He doesn’t like the way she smooths down her shirt self-consciously, as if Mrs. Talonovich will care about a few wrinkles.

“You look fine,” Dante whispers. Brushing away the flour on her cheek, he explains, “I mean she doesn’t know Ryan’s with me. She thinks we’re just friends.”

There’s that tight frown, the one she wears when he mentions the fact that he’s gay. At the foot of the stairs he stops, forcing her to stop on the step above him. Taking both of her hands in his, he looks up at her and asks, “Mama? Please don’t mention it, okay? I don’t want to lose him.”

“Your mama knows how to keep her mouth shut,” she tells him as she cranes her neck to see out the tiny window set high in the door to their building. “You said he’s waiting?”