Jamey stared at the number she had given Charley. He didn’t recognize it. Why was she calling? Both his parents had made it clear they were cutting him off, they did not want to have a gay son. The maternal severance package Jamey had chalked up to guilt. The last thing he had yelled at her before he left: he would be at Charley’s, Charley Alexander, the friend he had met in Anthro 101 in the spring. He had wanted her to call, to hear her tell him she would always love him; he wanted a happy ending.
That had been at the end of July; it was mid-October now and this was the first time she had called.
Jamey dialed the number. The man who answered sounded almost familiar. “Mary Frances Currey—is she there? She left this number.” A pause and he heard his mother’s voice.
“Jamey? I’m at Pastor
