Free Something Beautiful by Jenna Jones

whereabouts and his friends. He wondered sometimes if his parents ever listened to anything he said, or if they kept asking in the hopes to catch him in a lie.
     
    Well, he didn't lie. Much. They probably thought he was still a virgin, since he'd never had a girlfriend, and he carefully edited various facts about his friends so they wouldn't ask too many questions -- but beyond that, he was honest. He still went to church, he didn't drink much, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs. He just had sex with men. That wasn't so bad, was it? On the scale of things?
     
    But it was getting uncomfortable, the way his father ranted on about the homosexual agenda in his sermons, the way his parents' friends would say "compassion" and "tolerance" as if they were disgusting traits. Micah wondered sometimes what they would say, all those people who thought he was such a sweet, good boy, if they knew he liked to suck cock.
     
    Micah pushed his glasses up his nose, straightened his shoulders, and got out of the car and went into the house. His mother, Ivy, was still awake, reading in an armchair. She put the book down and smiled at him. "How was the party?"
     
    "Good. Tristan and Laird are having a baby."
     
    "Oh, how lovely. Who are they, again?"
     
    "The Marcuses. Laird's in cancer research and Tristan's parents own the bookstore Shiloh works at."
     
    "He's the one who's a great deal older than his wife, isn't he?"
     
    Micah shrugged. "Five or six years, I think. Tristan's thirty-something. Do we have any ice cream?"
     
    "There's rocky road in the freezer." She added as Micah went into the kitchen, "Your favorite."
     
    He smiled as he took the carton from the freezer. "Rocky road is Shiloh's favorite. Mine is mint chocolate chip."
     
    "Oh. Well, as long as chocolate in involved you're both happy. Micah." She followed him into the kitchen and sat at the bar as he scooped up some ice cream. "There's something I've wanted to talk to you about."
     
    "Chocolate sauce?" he said.
     
    "There's Hershey's in the fridge. Micah."
     
    "I'm listening." There was a can of chocolate syrup behind a jar of mayonnaise. He poured a generous amount onto the ice cream.
     
    "You're twenty-three now," Ivy said. "You've had quite a few adventures, but it's time to think seriously about your future."
     
    "I'm very serious about my future," Micah said and sprinkled some extra walnuts on top of the ice cream. "The job at the Chronicle is great, Mom. It's exactly what I'm good at and it's a really good salary."
     
    "I mean your personal future. Not just your career. We know you've never really been comfortable around girls, but you have to get over that, darling. You have to think about finding a wife."
     
    Micah swallowed hard and coughed on a partially-chewed bit of almond. "A wife?" he said when he'd stopped coughing.
     
    "A wife. A mother for your children. It's the next step in life, sweetheart. I wish more of your friends would set an example and get married, but I suppose it's good you see Laird and Tristan's marriage. Being around them makes it seem not so scary, doesn't it?"
     
    "Um," he said.
     
    "I hope she doesn't have any brothers," Ivy added, shaking her head. "I can't imagine what her parents would have named them."
     
    "She only has sisters," Micah said. "Rory and Dallas."
     
    "You've met them? Are they single?"
     
    "No, they're both married. Dallas is the one with twins -- I went to the christening, remember?"
     
    "Oh. Well. Anyway." She dismissed the Rigbys with a shrug. "Do you remember the Harrises? Bill and Sharon?"
     
    "Vaguely." Mostly he remembered a tall man with a deep, not-often used voice and a tiny woman who always sang "O Holy Night" at the Christmas service with lots of vibrato.
     
    "Their daughter, Bonnie, is done with school and has just started working at one of those Internet companies. She likes computers, too. You're taking her out Friday night."
     
    It was a good thing he had nothing left to choke on -- this