Had she been like me, she would’ve torn me limb from limb if she could have. Anything to protect her son. I knew that as sure as anything. Still, I hadn’t come that far for nothing. And I had little to lose by asking my next question, my last one of her. “Can we see him? Joseph?”
The door opened the rest of the way. “Suit yourself,” she said. “If it’ll get you out of here any sooner.”
I bristled at the remark but nodded as we walked inside. And a gay Episcopalian in a Utah Mormon’s home felt strangely more like being in a lion’s den. And guess who was getting thrown to the slaughter, to the mamma lion herself? In any case, we followed her upstairs.
“Your son is home now?” I asked. “In the middle of the day?”
We reached a closed door. She nodded and frowned. “He’s slow, my son. Always h
