Free In Mike We Trust by P. E. Ryan

said.
    â€œOrientation.”
    â€œI really don’t mean to stick my nose in where it’s not welcome,” Mike said, raising an open palm. “It’s just that, you know, he’s my nephew.”
    â€œWell, I’m his mother.”
    â€œAnd I totally respect that. But I was thinking that an outside voice—from someone in the family—might be helpful. I’m sure it took a lot of guts for Garth to tell you, and maybe there’s room for him to—”
    â€œMike,” she said, “I know you mean well, but don’t overstep your bounds.”
    â€œNo, no, no,” Mike said, holding up both hands now. “I don’t mean to do that at all.”
    â€œLisa has gay friends,” Garth suddenly blurted out.
    His mom glared at him.
    â€œShe even broke up with a guy she was dating last year because he called her gay friends ‘fags’ and said they should all be put on an AIDS island,” he said. “She told him to get lost.”
    â€œThat kind of person is exactly why I worry about you telling people,” she said. “What do you thinkthat boy would have done if he’d known that, or even thought that, about you? He and his ignorant friends could decide to go after you, and how would you defend yourself?”
    â€œWell,” Mike said, sounding much calmer than Garth’s mom; he almost sounded like the good-guy attorney on a TV drama, exploring all the angles of a situation, “he could defend himself with words. He could be ready to say, ‘Hey, guys, just look at me as one less man in competition for all those girls out there.’”
    â€œThat sounds like the perfect way to get into a fight,” she said. “Honestly, Mike, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    â€œTimes have changed.”
    â€œThey haven’t changed that much.”
    â€œWell, Garth was telling me about this organization. What’s it called? Rosemary?”
    â€œROSMY,” Garth said.
    â€œThey apparently have all these services for teenagers and parents, and it sounds to me like—”
    â€œYou know what?” Garth’s mom said, the volume of her voice raising slightly. “You’re not a parent. You don’t know what it’s like to have an immediate family, lose half of it, and be worried about the safety of the other half. And I do. So…forgive me for puttingmy foot down, but I don’t want to hear about ROSMY anymore. I’m Garth’s mom, his only parent, and he’s my responsibility until he’s an adult.”
    Garth looked at Mike, who was still staring down at what was left of his spaghetti, his mouth not grinning now but pursed. Was he irritated? Pensive? Regretting that he’d brought up the subject in the first place? He put his elbows on the table and folded his hands together over his plate. “Actually,” he said in a softer voice, “I do know what it’s like to lose half my family. My dad passed away, so I’ve got my mom and my twin brother. Then my brother’s suddenly gone. So I know what it’s like. But you’re right: I’m not a parent. I just want what’s best for Garth here.
    Garth was still feeling grateful, but he also had the vague sensation of being an object—like a piece of furniture in an empty room, with two people standing over it, deciding where it should reside. Yet he thought Mike understood him better than his mom did, or at least was willing to acknowledge that the decision about where the piece of furniture was placed wasn’t so obvious, so…cut and dry. Neither Mike nor his mom was saying anything. He wanted to break the silence, so he said, “I want what’s best for me, too.”
    His mom cleared her throat, pushed up from herchair, and said, “There’s ice cream, if anyone saved room for dessert.”
    Â 
    His uncle stopped by his room that night, just as he was