2. Prescription For Love

As long as he could remember, his mom and his grandmom were there for him. His grandmom practically all the time, and his mom whenever she could be. He couldn’t not tell his mom, but he hadn’t quite worked out what he would do if she totally freaked out. She hadn’t. She’d sat quietly, studying him the way she did when she was trying to look inside him. He thought she probably could, because when he’d finished stumbling through his decision, she’d asked the right questions. Most of all she’d said the right thing.

“I love you. You are my child, and you are who you feel you are. You’ll have to be patient with me as I’ve got a lot to learn, just like you. We’ll do it together, agreed?”

Whenever he faced a new situation, he thought about what she’d said. He wasn’t alone, even though he was lonely sometimes. He was lonely right now even though Flann and Harper and Margie treated him like a friend. They didn’t really know him yet, and maybe they’d change their minds when they did. But he was excited too. He was part of this little group, at least for the next few minutes, and he was having fun.

“So tell me about raising chicks,” Blake said, following Margie into the big warehouse-type store.

For the next twenty minutes while they watched the little round balls of fluff clamor around in big metal tubs, Margie filled him in on keeping them warm and making sure they had the right food and water and seeing that the rooster didn’t bother them too much until they got bigger, and checking the weather forecasts because it could still get cold at night and they were vulnerable. The sign over the tub with the most chicks said UNSEXED.

“They all look alike,” Blake murmured.

“Told you it was impossible to tell,” Margie said.

“It’s sort of neat not being able to tell males from females just by looking,” Blake said. “Does it really matter so much?”

Margie looked him in the eye. “Not with people, I don’t think. With the chickens it does, though. You can’t have roosters in the town limits, for one thing, so anyone with a backyard flock doesn’t want one.”

A thrill of possibility rippled down Blake’s spine. Margie as much as said she was okay with him being different. She hadn’t asked for an explanation or a label. For the first time in a long time, he felt free to just be. Maybe it wouldn’t last, but it was pretty awesome right now. “You can have chickens in your yard?”

“Sure—you have plenty of room at the old school—”

Harper cut in. “Maybe Abby isn’t ready for chickens just yet, Margie.”

“Besides,” Flann said, joining them, “Blake has to work on the dog angle first.”

“Okay,” Margie said. “Next year, though

”

Flann put Margie in a headlock. “Enough helpful advice.” Margie laughed and tried to squirm free.

Blake grinned. “That’s okay. I’m going to wage a long, careful campaign about a puppy.”

“Oho,” Flann said, letting Margie go. “Something tells me your mom won’t be easily taken in.” “Nope,” Blake said. “But she loves animals, so it won’t be too hard.” “You two pick out half a dozen,” Harper said.

Ten minutes later they were headed back to Presley’s with a cardboard box of six peeping chicks balanced on the seat between Blake and Margie.

From the front seat, Harper said, “Presley’s going to be pretty busy at work for the next few weeks.

Maybe you two could drop over during the day and check on the chicks. Do you drive yet, Blake?”

“Not yet. I’ll be able to get my permit in a couple weeks, but I haven’t really thought about it all that much.”

“Bike?” Flann said. “It’s not that far a ride.”

“I’m getting one soon.” Blake shifted uncomfortably. “But I don’t know much—like nothing—about chickens.”

Margie said, “The White place is about the same distance for you as it is for me from home—about five miles. That’s an easy ride. We could meet up and do it together.”

Blake’s heart jumped. He didn’t care if he had to get up at dawn, as long as he had something to do and someone to do it with. And Margie was really easy to be with. She was smart and funny and she accepted him for him, at least she did right now. If he came out, put words to who he was, maybe she wouldn’t. His chest hurt but he had to try. “Yeah, sure. We could do that. What time?”

“I’ll talk to Presley, Harp,” Margie said. “We can work out a schedule.” Harper glanced back and grinned. “You’re in charge, Margie.” “Of course,” she said and settled back in the seat.

Blake said, “I have to get a bike right away.”

“We’ve got plenty at the house. You can borrow one of ours for a while.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure,” Flann said. “There’s one of mine there I’m not using. Feel free. We’re about the same height, so the fit should be good for you.” “Are you sure?” Blake asked.

“Absolutely. I’ll bring it by your place tomorrow,” Flann said.

“That would be so terrific. Thanks.”

As Harper gave her a sharp look, Flann said, “Don’t mention it.”

*