The Perfect Family (9 page)

Still, this step was done. Finally, finally done.

After splashing some water on his face, Jamie opened the door and made his way to his own room. Flopping on the bed, with Buck leaping to the foot of it, he checked his text messages. None. He was dying to know how it went with Luke, who was scared shitless of his parents. But like Jamie, being gay had gotten too big to keep inside anymore. It took too much energy to keep the door closed on a closet full of secrets. How would Luke’s mom and dad handle it? Would they explode, say awful things that could never be taken back? Luke feared they might, and having gotten to know the Cranes in the last few weeks, Jamie expected the worst.

Linking his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, he thought about his mom again. She hadn’t said any of those awful things and she never would. She’d deal with his being gay and any problems that caused inside her and make his coming out easier for him. Yet Jamie wasn’t out of the woods. Brian would freak, and Jamie would have to smooth over not telling him sooner. But it was his dad’s potential reaction that woke Jamie up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Because of the church he belonged to and the religion he embraced, his own father could reject him. His dad might say those things he could never take back.

And Jamie didn’t know what he’d do if that happened.

Probably sensing tension in him, Buck barked and moved in to nuzzle him. Jamie petted the dog for a while, then grabbed his phone and sent a text saying,
So, how’d it go telling your parents?

After a while there was a chime.
I couldn’t do it, Jamie. Maybe we should both wait.

Jamie’s hand curled around the cell. “Now you tell me.”

Disappointment shot through him, harsh and acute. When he got past it, he messaged Luke that it was okay, he should wait until he was ready. But it wasn’t, really. The plan was to share the joy of coming out to their parents. He wanted to share everything with Luke.

“Shit!” he said aloud. Bolting up, he knew he had to get out what he was feeling, so he went to the desk, to his journal, which was the only place he’d been honest for months. Once again, he poured his heart out on the pages.

Alone

I am alone in this.

I didn’t think I would be.

He promised he would tell.

It was too much for him.

Fear mixes with joy.

Joy colludes with hope.

Hope brings about expectation.

Was he wrong to have told all?

His real self speaks:

No, no, no.

It’s right. No matter what.

Right to be the person you are.

Isn’t it?

*

Drums were beating at Mike’s temples when he pulled his Pontiac into the garage. Work had been a bitch because some inventory had been lost and it had taken him all day to find it. Then the slow drive home in the sleet was tedious. Grabbing his briefcase, tie, and jacket from the front seat, he exited the car, glad this day was over and looking forward to a manhattan, conversation with his wife and catching up on the boys’ day.

He smelled baked chicken as he entered the house. Maggie was coming down the back stairs and they met in the hallway.

“Hi.” She kissed his cheek. She must have taken a shower because he caught a whiff of her bath splash. Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt, thick socks on her feet and her hair shiny and a little damp, she looked young and healthy and was just what the doctor ordered.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He held her close for second, thanking God for giving this wonderful woman to him, then walked with her into the kitchen, put his keys in the cupboard, and picked up the mail.

As he leafed through the letters and flyers, she asked, “How was work?”

He mumbled, “Fine.”

“Any news with your boss?”

“Still making waves about cutting back.”

Mike was the vice president for a local software distributor in Rochester. His new boss was downsizing, and one of the people he wanted to lay off was Mike’s assistant, Laura Simpson. But the woman was a solid worker and they needed her. He thought that with one more meeting, he could preclude that cut, at least.

Setting down the envelopes, he removed a bottle of whiskey from one of the lower cabinets and began to fix himself a drink. “How was
your
day?”

Maggie poured herself wine from the refrigerator. “Eventful.”

“Yeah?” He sank onto a stool at the island counter in the kitchen they’d remodeled when they moved in. “Did Caroline call?”

“No, but she will.” Her smile seemed off, somehow.

“Then what’s wrong?”

She folded her arms across her waist. “Mike, I talked to Jamie today. About dating.”

Oh, Lord, please let this be the news he’d been praying for. When Maggie brought up Jamie’s sexual orientation in the past, he couldn’t talk to her about it. Since then, though, Mike had had fears about his son. And his son’s soul. He tried not to, but they were there, inside him. “Tell me he finally has a girlfriend.”

“No.” She hesitated. “A boyfriend.”

Mike stared at her.

“I’m sorry.” Maggie’s voice came from far away, as if she was in another room. “We’ve brought up the possibility before, but I know hearing it confirmed is a blow.”

He shook his head, trying to clear it.

After a moment, she came to sit on the stool next to him. “Are you all right?”

Forcefully, he focused on her, tried to use her as an emotional compass as he always did with the boys. “No, Mag. I’m not all right.”

She was struggling, too, so he reached for her hand. It was shaking. He needed to deal with this well, for her and for his son.

“Mike, listen, we can work through this. It’s going to be fine.”

Looking down at the floor, he thought of Jamie, curly haired and teetering when he took his first steps on the tile. Had Mike done something wrong all those years ago to bring this situation about? “Oh, God, poor Jamie.”

His wife drew in a heavy breath. “I think it’s important not to let him know you see this as a problem.”

She had to be kidding.

“He doesn’t see this as a
poor Jamie
scenario.”

“What else is it, honey?”

“It’s who he is. Our little boy is simply different from you or me or Brian.”

“The Catholic Church disagrees with you.”

“On more than this, Mike.”

Familiar angst welled up inside him. Their disagreements about issues in the Catholic Church had caused rifts between them over the years, but compared to what this could do, those were minimal. “Our church says he’s still loved by God, Maggie, but his sexual preference is a choice, a sinful one. And he can change it.”

“The church is wrong on this, Mike, psychologically and morally. First and foremost, who we love is a sexual orientation, not a choice, not a preference. Any religion that tells you differently is archaic and dangerous.”

Why did she say that? How was he supposed to make this come out right if she spouted heresy?

“Second, with that in mind, you’ve got to handle this well with Jamie.” She watched him carefully. “What you say now, when you first see him, will be the foundation of your relationship for the rest of your lives.”

His glass hit the counter harder than he intended. “What do you think I’m going to do, cast him out of the house like a leper? For God’s sake, Maggie, I’m his father. I love him no matter what.”

“I know you love him. But he has to feel your acceptance of him, despite your views on his sexual orientation.”

“I realize that. And I wish to hell you didn’t think you had to tell me all this.”

She didn’t take her words back.

He said, “I’ll do what’s right, and part of that is staying true to God and my religion while I protect my son.”

“I’m not sure you can do both.”

They heard Jamie moving around upstairs. Fear flashed in her eyes.

“Be honest with me, Maggie. You can’t want this for him, can you?”

“I…I’m not going to think in that vein, Mike. It won’t help any of us.”

“Denial certainly won’t help.”

Very quietly, but in a slicing tone, she said, “Neither will disapproval.” Noise on the stairs. Jamie’s feet hit the landing with a thud. “Please, Mike, be careful.”

Standing, he gulped the rest of his drink, set it down, and strode to the foyer, saying a quick prayer to God to help him do what was best now. One point his wife was right about—the rest of their lives were at stake.

Jamie
so
did not want to have this conversation. After his dad hugged him, he’d said, “Let’s go to the porch.” Jamie had no choice but to follow.

They sat inside the glass enclosure that faced their wooded backyard. His mom and dad had planted two of the trees as saplings when he and Brian were little. Now they’d grown into towering maples. This room was heated, but not enough, and Jamie shivered. At least he thought that’s what caused the chill. But it could be Luke’s reneging on him and now this heart-to-heart with his father.

“I hear you and Mom had quite a conversation today.” His dad’s tone was even, controlled. He was always calm in a crisis. And of course this
was
a crisis to him.

“Uh-huh.” Damn it, Jamie’s voice cracked like it did when he went through puberty. Which was tough enough for any guy, but when you realized you might like boys,
becoming a man
was a nightmare.

His dad squeezed his arm. “I love you, Jamie. Nothing can make me love you less.”

“That’s what Mom said.”

“It’s true. For both of us.”

Thank God for that, anyway. It buoyed Jamie, though he knew it wouldn’t be smooth sailing with his dad. A
but
was coming.

Quietly, his father asked, “Want to tell me how you’re feeling about all this?”

“I’d rather know how you’re feeling.”

Which wasn’t quite true. There were caveats on his dad’s love, mostly if something conflicted with his unshakable faith in God. Sometimes it hurt knowing God was more important to his father than Jamie was.

“I’m worried about you, Jame.”

“I’m okay, Dad.”

His father glanced down. “Your hands are shaking.”

Shit. He shoved them under his thighs. “It’s cold out here. Honest, I’m fine. I told Mom I want to date, so it’s time for you to know.”

“How long have
you
known?”

“A while.”

“Do you want to talk about anything in particular about your sexual preference?”

“No.”

“Then I’d like to discuss the gay lifestyle.”

Jamie’s fists clenched. “Dad, the term
gay lifestyle
is insulting. It implies that all gay people live the same, have the same morals when nobody would ever say all straight people do.” A hard ball formed in Jamie’s stomach but he went on anyway. “And being gay isn’t a preference. It isn’t a choice I made.”

A muscle in his father’s jaw pulsed. “This is all somewhat of a surprise for me. If my terminology offends you, I’m sorry.”

Jamie didn’t respond.

“Let me try to say it in a different way. I’m worried about what I know, or have heard, about being a gay man in society.”

“What’s that?”

“Promiscuity. The gay club scene. The danger of sexually transmitted diseases.”

Glancing away, Jamie swallowed hard. He loved his father so much and never, ever wanted to hurt him. But still… “You’re a bigot if you think all gay men are promiscuous.”

“Excuse me?”

Now he faced his dad squarely. “It’s a blatant stereotype. There’s no more promiscuity among gay people than straight ones, and AIDS is spread by heterosexuals, too.”

“But as your father, I need to warn you. Protect you.”

Jamie bolted off the couch. “Consider me warned. I don’t wanna talk anymore.”

Before Jamie could get away, his dad stood and grabbed his upper arms. Broad shoulders that had borne the responsibility of raising a family, nurturing his sons, spanned Jamie’s.

“Listen, I’m sorry if—”

“You offended me. I know.” He tried to shrug his father off. “I gotta go.”

His dad’s grip tightened; they stared at each other. Then he yanked Jamie to him and hugged him like he used to when Jamie was a little boy.

And Jamie started to dissolve. He clutched at his father’s back, breathed in his familiar scent, let it comfort him. He even buried his face in his dad’s chest and stayed there. Old emotions—ugly ones—started to come back. He’d finally come to terms with who he was and he didn’t wish it away anymore, but his father’s reaction conjured up all those self-doubts. And once again, Jamie felt bad about who and what he was.

Wordlessly, he drew back, fled the porch and raced to the foyer. Taking the stairs two at a time, he slammed the door to his room and fished out his cell phone. He needed to talk to Luke. They were supposed to do something together tonight but couldn’t because of a family event at the Cranes’ country club. Maybe Jamie could catch him before they left.