My Big Fat Gay Life (52 page)

White! They made me wear white! I can’t stand white. It’s so… boring! If I have to wear clothes, then I want to wear something colourful. It could be worse I guess; they could have made me wear pink. I don’t hate white anywhere near as much as I hate pink!

I’d resisted, of course. I’d used all the tricks I’d learned to manipulate adults, but none of them had worked. I’d tried pouting. I’d tried not talking to anyone for days. I’d even tried tilting my head to one side slightly and batting my eyelids. None of it worked! Eventually I gave in and agreed to wear the stupid dress. If I’d persisted I’m sure I would have won this battle, but the chance of de-sensitising them to my childish wiles wasn’t worth the risk. I had to pick my battles.

I wish they’d let me wear the dress I wore to my birthday party last week. It was bright and colourful, and the only thing I didn’t like about it was the big number 7 on the front of it. What was the point? I knew I was seven, and everyone coming to my party knew I was seven. Grandma Pat picked the number 7 off the dress before the party, so it all worked out well. Grandma Pat never falls for my childish wiles, but she can be reasoned with.

The music started playing, and I heard Daddy whisper, “Go, Kyra.”

I held my flowers in front of me like I was shown, and said, “Come on, Jack. Follow me.”

Looking ahead, I thought our garden was decorated beautifully! Not as beautiful as it had been for my birthday party, but still very beautiful. There were ribbons in the trees, balloons everywhere, and the gazebo had been painted white. It needed to be painted: at my birthday party, some of my guests had written all over it with their crayons. Of course I didn’t. Crayons are so childish!

Daddy had told me not to rush down the aisle. I wasn’t sure what he’d meant, but looking ahead I saw a clear path leading to our gazebo. That must be the aisle. There were chairs on either side, and all the chairs were facing the gazebo. Everybody sitting in the chairs had turned to face me when the music started playing. They were also smiling at Jack. Stupid Jack. Brothers are such a pain!

Concentrate!
I told myself. Remembering Daddy’s words, I started to walk in time with the music. “Here.”
Step
. “Comes.”
Step
. “The.”
Step
. “Bride.”
Step
. The last two words were too close together, and I nearly tripped. Some people in the chairs laughed at me, but they covered their mouths to try and stop me noticing. Blushing with embarrassment, I decided to stop worrying about the words and just walk slowly.

I looked behind to make sure Jack was following me. He’s only two years old, and not as smart as me. His birthday was a month before mine, and he was even too dumb to have a big birthday party like I did. The only people he invited to his party were all our grandparents, parents, uncles, and aunties. He was wearing a little black and white suit, which made him look like a penguin. Especially with his strange walk. He was carrying a pillow with some rings on it, and he was concentrating hard to make sure he didn’t drop them.

There were a lot of people seated in the chairs that I didn’t recognise, but there were quite a few that I did know. Uncle Rory was just off to my left, and he had a camera pointed at me. I smiled at him, and he smiled back from behind his camera. Uncle Mark was with Rory, but he was dressed as Lizzie today. Uncle Mark says he likes to dress as Lizzie for special occasions, but Uncle Rory says Uncle Mark only dresses like that because he’s embarrassed about being bald.

I took a few more steps and heard Daddy’s voice say, “You look beautiful sweetheart!” I turned to smile at him, and he gave me an enormous grin and two thumbs up. He was wearing clothes, and they looked very nice on him. He should wear clothes more often. Ashleigh was sitting next to him. She’s Daddy’s girlfriend for this month: the latest in a long line of women to tell me “I’m your new Mummy.” As if! Nobody could ever replace Mummy: neither for my Daddy nor me. I don’t know why I even bother remembering their names.

As I walked down the aisle, with Jack walking behind me, I smiled for photos from Grandma Doris, Nanna Jack, Grandpa Don and Nanna Maria. I’m pretty sure they were all here for me, and not the wedding. They all told me they were coming to see me in my pretty dress. I don’t understand why: they’ve seen me in dresses before.

When I got closer to the gazebo, I saw Ryan and gave him a quick little wave. He blew me a kiss. I like Ryan. He always has lollies for me. He looked like he was crying, and he was holding hands with a kind looking old man. Maybe it’s his Daddy.

Suddenly I heard Jack call out, “Grandma Pat!” He dropped the pillow and the rings, and fled to where Grandma Pat was sitting in the front row. I stopped, not sure what to do, but Daddy laughed and picked up the rings.

“It’s OK Sweetheart,” he said. “Just keep going.”

As I passed Grandma Pat I gave her a big smile and a big wave. Grandma Pat is the best! Jack had climbed up on her lap and was hugging her and covering her in kisses. Eventually he settled down.

“Grandma Pat smooth,” I heard Jack say to Grandma Pat. I looked back, and he’d pulled off her scarf and was patting her bald head.

“How many times have I told you,” Grandma Pat whispered to him, “not to call me Grandma Pat! Call me Patricia. Grandma makes me feel old.” She tried to sound like she was scolding him, but I could hear the love and humour in her voice.

“But you
are
old, Grandma Pat,” Jack told her loudly. She threw back her head and laughed, and so did all the people sitting behind her.

Finally I reached the gazebo, so I turned and looked back to the other end of the aisle. Daddy Seb was standing there, and he was wearing a grown-ups version of Jack’s suit. I hoped he didn’t walk down the aisle like a penguin, like Jack did.

I have very few regrets from my life. Sure, I was self-indulgent at times, but I was also indulgent of others. I could be selfish, however I was also selfless. I strived to be non-judgmental and tolerant, and I sincerely hoped that others were tolerant of me and didn’t judge me in return. I could be brutal, but I could also be kind. I fervently believed that I’d achieved a balance in my life, and that I’d toed the fine line between helping others and interfering.

One of the few regrets I have is how I handled the situation with Ryan. Over the last 7 years he’d grown quite close to Toni, and now he’s an important person in her life. I studied his face as he sat in the second row with his latest gentleman friend, and I saw genuine happiness: he’s content with his life. His friendship with Toni gave me some small measure of satisfaction: at least some good had come of his time with Patricia and I.

My heart still ached when I thought of how I’d used Ryan. I’d needed him to teach Patricia a lesson: she couldn’t have her cake and eat it too. She’d had to realise why we had rules in our open relationship. She had needed to become so gut-wrenchingly jealous of Ryan and I that her cool demeanour collapsed, allowing the green-eyed monster to emerge.

After she’d kicked Ryan out of our home and had a few days for her hindsight to become clear, Patricia became totally bereft and apologetic. After that point, we’d had a perfect relationship; at least for the next few years. There were times when someone became a fixture in our relationship for more than a day, however they were rare, agreed to mutually in advance, and limited strictly to two or three days.

My favourite example is the dog slave I’d bought for Patricia for Christmas one year. She squealed with delight at the hunky naked man, wearing a collar and panting on all fours. “Now remember,” I’d told her, “a dog just isn’t for Christmas! But in this case we’ll make an exception.” We’d had three exciting days with our dog, and then sadly returned him to the pound.

The music started, startling me from my trip down memory lane. I shed tears of joy unabashedly as I watched Kyra and Jack walk down the aisle, flower girl and pageboy. Jack was the spitting image of his father at that age, complete with the uncertain walk that threatened to trip him at any moment. Another of my few regrets is that I will never meet him. I surveyed the rest of my family, and I liked what I saw. They were all content.

The last of my regrets was that I couldn’t give away the bride. She was a vision in white, and her eyes shone with joy and peace. There wasn’t a hint of doubt or worry in her broad smile. I hadn’t known her for long, and I fervently wished I’d spent more time with her.

As I watched my handsome son escort the bride down the aisle, my heart swelled with love and pride. He’d been tested seven years earlier by the Universe and found to be lacking, however he came through his trials more resilient and far stronger.

Sebastian was now complete and whole within himself, no longer compelled to try and fill the hole in his soul with relationships, sex, or drugs. He was doing what he enjoyed, and he was good at it. My pride was rooted in the fact that Sebastian had progressed a long way down his path of self-awareness, and that he was still walking at a determined pace. As long as they constantly grow as a person, no parent could ask for more of their children.

I focussed my attention on my little Hell Demon as Jack squirmed in her lap. She was the great love of my life, and possibly several other lifetimes. With her bald scalp and her face devoid of make-up, she looked like she’d aged two decades in the three years since I’d left her. She was alone, which surprised me.

“I’m waiting for you, Patricia,” I whispered at her. “But don’t rush. Take your time, my love. I’m in no hurry.”

On some very rare occasions, we’re allowed to visit. I know that in approximately twenty years, Ruth will be standing right here where I am now, tears streaming down her face as she watches Kyra wed the person of her dreams.

As I stood in a corner watching the celebrations, it struck me that I was now an outsider. I looked around at all the smiling, happy faces and tried to immerse myself in the atmosphere of the occasion, however a tiny dagger of loneliness pricked my heart.

Once, these people had been my family. I’d been happier and more comfortable in their presence than in my own company. Now, seven years later, my home and family were with Ian in Glasgow, and I’d not regretted leaving Manchester for a single moment.

They still know how to throw a party! The back garden had been transformed into a magical fairyland, however all of the guests were currently inside mingling and drinking while the staff cleared away the chairs and set up the tables for the reception outside.

I’m not sure how this house does it: every time there’s ever been an occasion or celebration in the backyard, the weather has been perfect. The house must have an event planner with great contacts.

I looked around the large living space and couldn’t see the hosts anywhere. They must be either off attending to arrangements, or having a break from the chaos. Taking a chance on the latter, I walked to the front of the house, opened the door to the den, and slipped inside.

“Kento!” Sebastian exclaimed, leaping up from the chair where he’d been reclining. He rushed over and wrapped me in a hug, covering my face in kisses.