The Trouble With Valentine's Day by Rachel Gibson

you no matter who you love.”
    Rob sighed. “For God’s sake, Mom, you know I’m not gay.”
    She smiled. “I know. What do you think we should do about the rumor?”
    Rob glanced up at the gray clouds and let out a breath as he thought about the ramifications. In a big city the rumor probably wouldn’t matter. In a town the size of Gospel, it might hurt his business. If that happened, he’d have to close Sutter Sports and move away, which he didn’t want to do. “I don’t know,” he said and returned his gaze to his mother. He felt a bit helpless, but short of grabbing a woman and doing her on Main Street, there wasn’t anything he could do.
    â€œDo you think maybe Harvey Middleton started the rumor to hurt your business?”
    â€œNo.” He didn’t think the owner of Sawtooth Gun and Tackle would spread rumors. Harvey was a good guy and had more business than he could handle.
    â€œThen who do you think started it?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know the answer to that. Why would anyone believe it anyway?”
    The question was rhetorical, but Grace thought about it nonetheless. “Maybe because you don’t date anymore.”
    Rob didn’t want to talk about dating with his mother, not only because they’d had the conversation before but also because talking about dating inevitably made him think of sex. Lack of sex was his real problem, and that was definitely something a man didn’t want to discuss with his mother.
    â€œYou don’t date either,” he pointed out and looked over at the doors to the M&S. There was no sign of a certain smart-ass redhead inside. Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t wonder about you at all , she’d told him. Let alone the size of your package . Which didn’t seem quite fair, since he’d been giving a lot of thought lately to that tattoo she supposedly had on her rear end.
    â€œI’ve been thinking that it’s time for us both to start dating again.”
    He turned back to his mother. “Is there someone you’re interested in seeing?” he asked, half joking. Since the death of his father in 1980, he wasn’t aware of his mother dating very much.
    She shook her head and sat down in her car. “No. Not really. I just thought maybe we both need to get out a little more. Maybe get more out of life than work.”
    â€œMy life is fine.”
    She gave him that “you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to your mother” look and reached for the door handle. “I’m reading my new poem tonight at the grange. You should stop by.”
    Oh, hell no . “I’m leaving this weekend to visit Amelia,” was the best he could come up with on the spur of the moment. It was lame, but it was also the truth.
    Grace shut the door and started the car. “That’s not for three days,” she said as she rolled down the window.
    He’d read his mother’s poetry, and even though he was no great judge of good writing, he knew hers was bad.
    Real bad.
    â€œI’m opening the store in two weeks, and I have tons to do to get ready.” Which was also true but was just as lame as his first excuse.
    â€œFine. I bought Amelia a little something. Come by the house before you leave town.”
    He’d hurt her feelings, but he’d rather get puck shot in the nuts than go to a poetry reading. “I really can’t make it tonight.”
    â€œI heard you.” She put the SUV into reverse and said, as she backed out, “If you change your mind, it starts at seven.”
    Rob stood in the empty parking space and watched his mother drive away. He was thirty-six. A grown man. At one time in his life, he’d slammed hockey players against the boards and fed them their lunch. He’d been the most feared player in the NHL and had led the league in penalty minutes. They’d nicknamed him the Hammer, in