Forever for a Year (28 page)

“Oh, of course … from Midnight Dogs, right, Scott?” my mom said, but with a very blank face. Almost too blank. She'd smiled when I first told her that Carolina's dad remembered her. Now she was acting like she didn't care. Like it was nothing. I didn't need her to smile and act excited, but I needed her to not act like it was nothing. I hated when my mom did this. So aloof and snobby, like she thought she was too good for someone. I wished, when she acted like this, that my mom would remember that if she was so goddamn perfect she wouldn't have tried to kill herself.

After we ordered, Lily asked, “Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, do you think Trevor and Carolina are soul mates? I do. But I'm only seven, so I'm not as old as adults.” The Fishers laughed, of course.

Carolina's mom said, “I am happy they found something special, but I think they are very young.”

Then my mom, who had been stone-faced quiet for twenty minutes, said, “But, really, does it matter that they are young? Are you any more sure Scott is your soul mate at forty-six than they could be as teenagers?”

“Ashley,” my dad said, trying to shut her up. Which he should have. Because Mrs. Fisher was red-faced. But I also liked what my mom said. I've always thoughts kids knew just as much as adults. We just don't have the power to do anything about it.

“Maybe you're right,” Carolina's mom said. You could tell she would rather slam her head into the table than get into an argument with my mom.

Then Scott said, “How about this answer, Lily. Yes, I think they are soul mates. But I don't necessarily think that means we only have one soul mate.” And then, I swear I fucking saw this, he looked right at my mom. For, like, the shortest glance ever. Then he leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. But I saw that look. I saw it. I know I did. And it meant something. I'm not sure what it meant, but I'm sure it meant something and I'm goddamn sure it meant something horrible.

 

55

Carolina gets a Christmas present

So the dinner with our parents was a huge, amazing success. Just amazing. This is going to sound weird, but it almost felt like Lily was our child and they were the four grandparents. I know, that's crazy, but Trevor and I were so mature. We really were. I know I used to say how I wanted to act mature but deep down I knew I was still immature. Then I was bored of trying to be mature, but now it was just who we were and I loved what we were more than ever. Other kids looked at us like this super-experienced couple. Girls would ask for my advice on love and relationships. Boys didn't really ask Trevor because boys are always afraid of asking questions, but you could tell they respected him for having a serious girlfriend so fast. Really.

Anyway.

So for Christmas, which Trevor and I celebrated on the morning of Christmas Eve, I bought a picture frame that said
TOGETHER FOREVER
and put a photograph of us from our date downtown at the Metropolitan Club since that was my favorite date ever. On the back, in Sharpie, I wrote,
Merry Christmas to the love of my life —Carolina.
Then I hid a sexy picture of me just in a towel after a shower behind the real picture. I printed it in black and white and tried to make it as artistic as possible. I also gave him a card that said how much I loved him and talked about how I could never have imagined I would have the most amazing boy ever as my boyfriend. It was really nice, and I meant every word. I told Trevor he didn't have to get me a Christmas present because he had bought me that dress at Saks Fifth Avenue, but I don't think I meant it because after he opened my present, he said, “You told me not to get one.” And this huge hole exploded in my heart and dropped into my stomach, but then he laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” I screamed.

“Because of course I got you a Christmas present, Carolina.”

Then I leaped into his lap even though I didn't even know what the present would be. He reached under the couch and pulled out two boxes. One big. But not clothes big. The other small. Like jewelry small. (OH MY GOSH, IS HE GOING TO PROPOSE?) I asked, “Which should I open first?”

“The big one.” So I tore open the wrapping paper, then pulled open the box, and peeled back the tissue to find a notebook. It was leather. Nice leather. On it, in black Sharpie just like I'd used on his card, Trevor had written,
The Story of Carolina and Trevor.
And, oh my gosh, I got butterflies in every molecule in my body, and I opened to the first page. It said, “On the first day, she gave him two pieces of paper…” And there was a sketch, like a really, really, really good one, of a girl's hand laying two pieces of paper onto a desk.

“Oh my gosh, who drew this?”

“I did.”

“YOU DID?”

“Yes.”

“Trevor, this is amazing. You're, like, an artist. Why didn't I know you could draw like an artist?”

“I've never shown anyone. Lily, I have. But not even my parents.”

“You are so talented,” and tears, happy tears, formed in my eyes as I turned to the next page and the next page and the next. It was each of our most important days captured with one description and one beautiful drawing. My boyfriend was an artist. He was handsome and a great athlete and an artist. I found the perfect boy. I did. I really did.

By the time I had read through the entire notebook, my face was filled with tears and a big, silly smile. I had forgotten about the other box. Not really. But sort of. So I opened it …

And it wasn't a diamond ring. I guess we weren't getting married. But that was just me being crazy. I wouldn't have said yes anyway. Yes, I would have. But then I would have said we should keep it secret until we were eighteen. Anyway. It was a necklace. A gold necklace with a gold heart. It was really beautiful. But not as beautiful as the book he made. Nothing would ever be as beautiful as that.

*   *   *

My brother, Heath, didn't get home from college until late Christmas Eve. He was supposed to come home last Saturday, but then he said he was staying with his girlfriend in Denver. My mom's feelings were hurt, but Heath didn't know that because my mom never talked about her feelings.

When he walked through the door with my dad, who had picked him up at the airport, Heath looked very different. Like a stranger. Like, when did he start dressing so nicely? I didn't even think we were related anymore. We had texted and Facebooked a little bit since August, but it was always him asking the same thing: “How's Mom?” and I would tell him Mom and Dad were in love again and tell him a long story about Trevor except he would just write back, “That's great, C,” and not say anything about his life or ask anything else about mine. I guess Heath and I never talked that much about serious things. He always looked out for me, but the five years' difference between us made it hard to share much more than parents, I guess.

After we opened presents Christmas morning, we had brunch. Well, we called it brunch even though it wasn't even nine a.m. yet. We had to eat early because my mom had to work a shift at noon. She always seemed to work on Christmas so I was used to it.

Heath asked me more questions about Trevor while we ate the egg souffl
é
that my mom had made, which I liked. I told him we were soul mates. He laughed, but it was a supportive laugh.

My dad eventually said, “You haven't told us much about your girlfriend, Heath.”

Heath looked at my dad like they shared a secret. I didn't like that they knew something I didn't. Maybe I was wrong. But then Heath reached over and grabbed my mom's hand and said, “My girlfriend is a boyfriend, and his name is Michael.”

For, like, a second, I didn't know what to think. I mean, my brother was … gay? That's what he was telling us? Right? But he had girlfriends in high school. Well, one. And, yeah … they weren't like Trevor and I. Not at all. Oh. My. Gosh. I jumped up, got in my brother's lap, and hugged him. We never hugged much, but I thought he needed it. He probably didn't. My brother has always been the strongest person I know. Maybe I wanted to give him a hug anyway. While I was in his lap, I noticed my mom was crying.

My dad said, “This is a great day, Ellie. Our son is who he is meant to be. I'm so proud of him.”

“Heath, do you know how difficult it is to be gay? Do you know how many people will judge you? Can you think about this before you make up your mind? I don't want your life to be so much more difficult than it has to be.”

“Goddamn it, Ellie,” my dad said.

“It's okay, Dad,” Heath said. But I was really, really mad at my mom. I mean, I never thought she would be prejudiced. She never was. She always voted for gay rights and told me everyone is equal and everything. But I guess she thought it was okay for everyone but her son.

I started crying. Gosh, I cried so much. I screamed out, “Mom, he's your son!”

“Carrie, it's okay. It's okay,” Heath said. So calm. He was always so calm and wise. He guided me off his lap, back to my chair, and then took both my mom's hands in his. “Mom…”

“Oh, honey, I love you so much,” she said, crying more than me. So much that I stopped.

“I know,” he said.

“I just want you to not get hurt by people.”

“I know.”

“Or made fun of or anything bad. Is there any way you can like girls?”

“No,” Heath said, and laughed.

“But—”

“Mom, I'll be okay.”

“He'll be better than okay,” my dad said.

“Dad, not now,” Heath said.

“She needs to know her son is perfect the way he is.”

“She knows.” Heath kept holding on to my mom's hands.

“She needs to know—” my dad started.

But Heath interrupted and shot his words back, “She needs not to get a lecture from you right now.”

Gosh was Heath amazing. But I couldn't believe he was gay. And then, I guess, I believed it.

*   *   *

My mom eventually stopped crying and apologized one thousand times. You could tell she was still scared, like terrified, but also that she wasn't anti-gay or anything. Just anti her son having to endure anti-gay people. But Heath was really smart and explained that the world was different than when she was his age. He said that every day someone openhearted was born to replace someone closed-minded who died. (My brother should be a writer, don't you think?)

Later, after my mom had gone to work and Heath had left to meet some friends, I asked my dad how long he had known Heath was gay.

“Probably since he was eight or so.”

“How could you tell?” I asked.

“If you pay attention, almost everyone will tell you who they are without saying a word. And it's your job, as their parent or sister or friend, to embrace whoever that person wants to be,” he said. My dad did lecture too much, but he was also brilliant, so I didn't really mind at a moment like this.

 

56

Trevor puts it closer and closer

After we got home from my grandmother's Christmas night, Carolina came over. She said hello to my parents and good night to Lily and then we went into the basement.

“Guess what?” she said. “I think we should go on a double date with Art and Bryan.”

“I don't think they're a couple,” I said.

“Everyone says they're a couple. It doesn't even matter. I just think we should be supportive of the gay community.”

“Okay.” She wasn't making a whole lot of sense.

“Guess what else?”

“What?”

“My brother's gay,” she said.

“That's cool,” I said. What else should I say? I had gay friends back in California. It wasn't a big deal. But I guess it was a bigger deal here.

“I mean, I just found out.”

“Oh. How do you feel?”

“Good. I'm really happy for him.”

“So you're happy for him for being who he is?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Cool. I'm happy for you that you are who you are, then.” I tickled her just because.

“I'm serious, Trevor.”

“I am too.”

“I don't want anyone to pretend they aren't themselves.”

“Me either.”

“So if you were gay, I would totally still love you,” she said.

“Are you being serious?”

“I'm just saying, I love you for whoever you are.”

“I like girls, Carolina. Well, one girl. See?” And I grabbed her hand and put it on my penis. Which was hard. It almost always was when we went into the basement. I wasn't even embarrassed about it anymore.

But Carolina didn't keep her hand there. She pulled it back and got sad. “Trevor, I want you to know everything about me.”

Oh, crap. Was she about to tell me she liked girls? No. No … right? No. But … what?

She said, “My parents almost got divorced. My dad cheated on my mom. They're better now. They're more in love than ever. But I want you to know that I don't come from this perfect family. My brother's perfect. I'm not saying we're not perfect because he's gay. I'm saying we're not perfect because my dad and mom almost got divorced.”

I didn't know what to say. I should have told her about my mom. About her trying to kill herself. But I couldn't. I just couldn't say it. Parents got divorced all the time. Who cares? But someone trying to kill herself was so much worse. So much harder to understand.

“Why aren't you saying anything?” she asked.

“I don't think anyone is perfect, Carolina. Besides you.” I tried to smile.

“So you don't think I'm damaged now because of my parents?”

“I think you are even more awesome because you are who you are despite their crap,” I said.

Carolina hugged me, then kept her head against my chest. Then she said, “So you would tell me anything I don't know about you, right?”