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weak spots and can have them moaning on the ground in the blink of an eye."
    "Good to know."
    Scott's insides vibrated as Devon led him by the hand into the grungy-looking diner. Despite his words of encouragement and his self-assurance that he wasn't going to panic, nervous energy rattled within him like a butterfly convention. It wasn't quite panic but Scott knew to pay attention to any other clues that might join the fluttering insects. He wanted to do this, needed to do this for Devon and for himself. Devon's confession had melted his heart and all he wanted to do was make him happy and lay to rest some of the guilt he was obviously carrying.
    The break-up hadn't been strictly Devon's fault and Scott vowed to be the best sport possible in Devon's still-mysterious—and unfortunately, not written-down—plans. A conversation with his mother earlier in the week had sparked an almost violent, rebellious reaction in him. He had this wonderful man at his side, and his mother knew nothing about his life. He was bound and determined to prove her wrong and make Devon proud at the same time.
    Still her voice seemed to echo in his head.
    "You can date as much as you want, Scott, but in the end you're just going to be alone like I always told you. Men do not stay with men. Get this gay phase out of the way and find a nice woman to give me some grandbabies before I'm too old to enjoy them. You have good genes so she doesn't even have to be attractive. You should be settled into your life by now and God knows you don't like new things so just finish sewing your imaginary wild oats and then give me something to enjoy for a change."
    He'd pictured the smug look on her face through the phone and it took everything he had not to just hang up, or better yet tell her she was an ugly, old hag with no friends. It wouldn't have been the snappiest of comebacks, more juvenile than anything else, but he didn't generally have any comebacks at all so it would have been a start.
    Instead he'd impaled his short nails into the thighs of his dress pants and sworn he'd die before he'd give up who he really was. God knew she'd been trying to change him for his entire life. "I'm not sure why you always forget you already have a grandson."
    She'd huffed out her disapproval into the receiver. "I haven't seen him since he was a baby—"
    "Because you disowned your daughter for having him out of wedlock ."
    "I'm quite capable of finishing my own sentences, Scott. You tend to forget she was only an adopted daughter who's no longer a part of this family. Her child is no flesh and blood of mine."
    "She's still part of my family."
    His mother ignored his statement and rattled on. "So you are my last hope of being a grandmother. That's an impossible thought isn't it, if you keep the notion you have in your head that you prefer men?"
    "I'm not getting into this with you again, Mother." Scott pictured Devon, sweet, caring, Devon who loved him. If anything could get him through a conversation with his mother, Devon could.
    "How long has it been since your last date, Scott? Or do the gays even call it dating? I heard a phrase on television the other night… let me think… oh yes, they called it hooking up. Is that what you and your supposed dates do, hook up? I'm willing to bet you aren't any more successful with the men than you were with the girls, given your failure to handle newness."
    He hadn't told her on purpose, it just wailed out of him in the midst of frustration and goddamn anger. "I have a boyfriend and we do much more than just hooking up!"
    And right there with that sentence, Scott had fallen into her trap.
    "Really, Scott, such vulgarity."
    He'd snapped back at her, his frustration not sated in any way. "You always bring out the best in me, Mother." Oh, Dev, I need you so much right now.
    "So if this man is so important to you or even actually exists, when will you be bringing him by for your father and I to meet?"
    Scott had done his best impression