Harry recovered slowly, but surely. Even though he's been monitored, poked and analyzed a dozen times, he was happy that his health was improving.

Even though he didn't remember her, his mother, Lady, catered to his every need.

Out of the blue, he asked for Jonathan. It wasn't the first time.

Swallowing grief, Lady said, "Again, who is Jonathan, baby? You should be telling me who he is to you, and what he is."

Harry stared into space, his heart torn asunder. "I don't know who that is, Mama? I can't remember. And you won't tell me. I don't even remember who you are. It's like certain things in my memory are black."

Lady rolled her eyes. "We've already had this convo, son."

"Is convo even a word, Ma?"

Reaching past a few novels on his bed, he picked up a small cup of water and chugged it.

"You know convo isn't a word, but you don't know who your husband Jonathan is?"

Harry's face beamed. "Now we're getting somewhere, Ma. You're the absolute best!"

"What do you mean, we're getting somewhere?"

He grinned boyishly. "You just said that I should know who my husband Jonathan is. My husband?"

"Me and my big mouth."

"And tell my friends that I don't need any more flowers or teddy bears."

Exasperated, Lady said, "How do we know you're mentally progressing if you're not remembering things on your own?"

"I'm still tripping off this I have a husband jargon." Harry chuckled. Finding it amusing. "Mama. I'm the catch of the Year. Who marries a man name Jonathan? Let me guess. We had a house together, too."

"An apartment."

"And where's the proof that I married a man? Am I gay? You mean to tell me that I'm gay? Come on, Mom! You're lying. I'm too fine to be gay. April Fool's!"

Reluctantly, Lynn entered Harry's room, holding flowers, with a look of chaos on her face.

"And who are you?" Harry asked, confused.

"Nobody important," Lady answered, giving her a cold stare. "Why are you here, Lynn? It's because of you that my son doesn't remember who the hell he is or was for that matter. He doesn't even know he's gay. He doesn't even remember your son."

Harry asked, "Lynn is it? Who was your son?"

Flashes of Lynn hitting his car with a Bible made him sit up in his bed, in a trance.

Alarmed, his mother was at his side, worried. "Baby! What is it? Talk to me, baby."

Harry slowly stood up, taking a moment to get his balance and catch his breath.

"Who is Jonathan to you, Lynn, whoever the hell he is, my husband, which I highly doubt. I'm not a gay man. And why are images of you hitting my car with the Holy Bible jarring my memory?"

Lynn held up one of their wedding photos. Harry slowly rose his hands, taking the 5x7 color photo from her bejeweled hands.

In it his husband hugged him from behind, a flawless medium shot.

"Jonathan is my son. I'm your mother-n-law. I deeply apologize for hurting you and my son."

"Hurt us how?" Harry asked, looking over the picture again. "I married a man...?"

A chill crawled up his spine and he fell back of his romp. The bed broke his fall.

"Oh my God! How could I forget my own husband? Jonathan. Where's my baby? Is he OK?"

Harry had his memory back.

Lady placed her hand on Lynn's shoulder, narrowing her eyes with contempt.

"Yes, Harry. He's doing...better. He's resting. He needs all the sleep he can get. Let's just worry about your full recovery, then we'll check on Jonathan."

"You're not sorry about any of this," Harry said, infuriated. "Then we'll check on my husband, not Jonathan. You can't even acknowledge who he is to me. You'd rather call him by name."

"Harry, I truly am sorry. I was childish, blatantly disrespectful."

"That's the guilt talking, it has to be. Your heart is too black for pleasantries. You never accepted me or my husband. As a matter of fact where is he? Take me to him."

"When you get your rest," Lady informed. "I promise. We'll see about him later on tomorrow. You're on bedrest. You were in a coma. Do you understand that you're still under observation?"

"Well...have him come see me, Lady."

"Get back in the bed, now, son. Let's go. Now, boi."

Hesitantly, Harry slid under the blankets, and said, "When I wake up, take me to see my husband." Harry closed his eyes, still trying to remember Lady. "Or I'll go and find him myself."