Someone had to set the discussion in motion and Dylan had stuff he wanted to talk about. As soon as Mom pulled away from the house, Dylan initiated the conversation. "What shall we talk about?"
"I don't mind. What do you want to talk about?" she replied.
They didn't have to rush to his topic. It was better to ease into these things, and they'd be together for more than an hour in the car. "I don't mind either. What do you want to talk about?"
"You could tell me why you've not been full of your usual Christmas cheer?" she asked.
"I didn't know I was any different from usual," he lied.
"Dylan, I am your mother. My super-senses tell me something is off. Is it too much pressure in the final year?"
"No. Yes. There's a lot of work to do this year." Blaming everything on too much pressure at University was an easy cop out, and Dylan realized he should seize it with both hands.
"Come on; there's more. Is it a man?"
"Why does it always have to be a man?"
"Have you started dating women?"
"No, Mom. That's not what I mean. I mean why do you think if there's something wrong it has to be because of a man?"
"Because it often is. Did I hit the right nerve?"
Dylan silently gazed out of the window. That's precisely what he wanted to talk with her about, as she was the only one who knew something about the background. At the same time she wasn't one of his friends; she wouldn't interfere or judge him.
"Jamie's found someone."
His Mom stayed silent for so long he wondered if she'd heard. Just as he was about to repeat the statement, she said, "And that's making you miserable. Did you ever tell him how you felt about him?"
"Of course I didn't. I never told him I was interested in him, so, of course, he's found someone else."
"And you're jealous?"
"Quite honestly, Mom, I'm insanely jealous. I want to go down there and punch the dude's lights out, which is mad because he's probably a really nice guy. And it is not as I had a claim on Jamie. And I don't even know what the dude looks like, so don't worry, I won't be doing anything foolish."
"My baby," she cooed.
"Shut up, Mom!" Dylan snapped.
"I'm not going to say I told you so, but you should have told Jamie how you felt. He looks at you so adoringly; I'm sure he'd go out with you if you ask him."
"I don't think that's what you said at all. My memory is you said we are far apart and young. That we should grow up and get over it. Move on and find someone else. That's my memory of our last conversation."
Dylan watched his Mom as she looked out of the windscreen, totally focused on the road ahead. Her eyebrows drew together in concentration.
"I'm sure that's not what I said. Or I may have suggested that as just one option."
Not the first time, Dylan sat and wondered whether things would have turned out differently if he'd have ever asked Jamie to be his boyfriend. Could his mom be right about Jamie having feelings for him?
"He can't have been seeing this guy very long, is it serious? You could still be in with a chance," Mom said.
"They haven't actually started dating."
"Then what are you talking about Dylan?"
"Jamie's got the hots for some guy at work and talks about him all the time lately. It's only a matter of time before they do get together."
The thought of Jamie with another man had Dylan's insides twisting up in pain. He wanted to be the one sharing special moments and spending quality time with Jamie.
"You saw him just a couple of days ago. You could have talked to him then, but I guess you've been pretty miserable since then."
Dylan shrugged. "I'll get over it, and it just is one thing on top of another. I've got a tough load of work to do by the end of May. Then in June, I'll be looking for a job again."
He pulled his jacket around him and then, thinking better of it, he reached for the knob that controlled the heating and turned it up a notch. It was the end of December, so they could move it slightly into the red from the freezing blue zone without bringing the car up to a raging, coat-removing temperature.
"It's never too late to let him know how you feel, Dylan. He might feel the same way, and he might be thinking all the same things you think. You won't know if you don't take a chance. Why don't you call him when we get to your place?"
"I might." Dylan knew he wouldn't do that because he was as certain as he could be that his feelings weren't reciprocated.
Which actually wasn't certain at all. He felt completely confused. And also disappointed in himself, fearing that he'd let opportunities pass by.
"Do it, Dylan. It's better than drowning your sorrows in drink and drugs and anonymous sex."
"Mom!"
"Sorry. No drink, just drugs and sex at p'n'p parties."
"Mom! How's that better? No, don't tell me." Dylan slumped in his seat and stared out the side window. Sometimes his mom knew too much about things he didn't want to talk about with her.
"Dylan, I know what temptations lay ahead of you, a lonely man in the city. Remember my job? It's part of my training."
"I'm not into chemsex parties mom. Most gay men aren't."
"I know the stats. I'm not talking about most men. I'm concerned about you being safe. And happy. And Jamie makes you happy, but if not him, there will be others."
It was time to change the subject, and there was something important Dylan needed to discuss at some point. "I've meant to ask you, may I come back and stay after my finals?"
"I didn't think you wanted to come back to our sleepy town. Surely you'll be looking for work somewhere with more impressive opportunities? Architects in our area are designing little extensions, not new shopping centers, towns, and buildings of architectural interest."
"I'll be applying for jobs all over the country. But I'll need money and a place to live immediately. I just thought I'd throw that out there. I'd like to come back if you have me and I'll get more laboring work to pay my way."
"You know we'd never see you out on the streets. Of course, you're welcome to come and stay with us. But I don't want you to think of it as a permanent home now you're a grown man. You've got to make your own way, and I know you will."