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Dad froze, shocked, before he put his hands out, almost placating. “I know that, Petey. We’re just trying to understand what’s going on with you.”
I laughed bitterly, tears forcing themselves into my eyes. “You want to know what’s going on with me?”
My head throbbed, and I ached all over. Disgust warred with a fear that I was scared to name. Under it all was a hot, churning anger that twisted in my gut like sickness.
How could they have denied that I was gay? How had they refused to see the truth about me and Adam?Whyhadn’t my dad talked to my mom earlier? Why was my sexuality so terrible that they had to beforcedto acknowledge it, and now that they had, they felt they had a right to call a tribunal about my whereabouts last night?
“Yes,” Mom said softly. “We want to know what’s going on in your head.”
“What’s going on in my head? Fine! You want to hear it? I’m pissed!” I yelled. “I’m really fuckingpissed off!”
Mom and Dad’s mouths dropped, their eyes flying wide. I waited for them to get mad, but somehow my anger had the opposite effect on them. Even though Mom was still shaking, she reached out to try to take my hand. I pulled it away.
“Talk to us, son,” Dad said.
“Why? I’ve been doing this whole ‘being gay’ thing on my own for a long time now. I’m fine.” What a joke. I was a mess. A total and complete mess.
Dad nodded. “You’re angry with us. That’s not surprising.”
“Oh, well, thanks for the permission.”
That seemed to briefly rile him up again, but Mom put her hand over his this time. “My therapist says we need to acknowledge your anger and not try to tell you how to deal with it.”
Really? Because I could have used some guidance, actually, but I was not asking. No way in hell. “Great,” I said, scrubbing my hands through my hair. “Thanks to your therapist, I guess.”
Dad took a deep breath. “We didn’t handle your situation the way we should have. We’re ashamed of that.”
“We’re sorry, Peter,” Mom said earnestly. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. We talked about it already.” I rubbed the heels of my hands over my stinging eyes, my contacts gritty and annoying. I needed to get them out.
“Tell us what you’re angry about,” Dad said. “We want to hear how you’re feeling.”
I snorted. I felt like a baby, raw and alone despite their reassurances. But I wasn’t about to tell them that. “I’m angry. I’m really fucking angry. About a lot of things.”
“Like?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Just pick a place, son.”
“Fine.” Tears filled my eyes again, and I tried to stop them by pounding the table with my fist. “I’m pissed at Adam for dating Leslie. I’m pissed at myself for lying to my friends and hiding from you. I’m pissed atyoufor never seeing me and for denying to yourselves that I’m gay. And I’m mad as hell that all of a sudden youdosee this one part of me, and now you feel like I owe you, when you never even cared before. It feels like a punishment. Because I’m gay. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing this because you love me.”
“Peter, we do love you.” Dad reached for my hands. I pulled them back and tucked them under the table. He exchanged a glance with Mom. “We havealwaysloved you.”
“Honey, we failed you so terribly these last few years.” Mom leaned forward, her eyes teary. “But we’re trying. We really are. Help us do better.”
I put my head on the table and took deep breaths. Being under a microscope had never been what I wanted from them. I’d just wanted them towantto know me. I wanted them to care about who I really was and not just who I was to them.
The fight went out of me, exhaustion winning.
My dad rubbed my back as I breathed in and out. I let him. The tension in my throat ached and my eyes filled with tears again. Eventually, I pulled it together and sat up. I didn’t feel calm, but I wasn’t about to explode anymore either.
“Okay,” I said softly. “You wanted to know about Robert. He’s my boss, and that’s all there is to it. We’re just friends. Let’s get that straight right from the start.”
Mom nodded her encouragement. Dad took hold of my hand and this time I let him, returning his reassuring squeeze.
I plunged ahead. “Adam and I met Robert last year. Everything I’ve told you about him is true, but I left out that he’s also a drag queen.” I glanced at Dad. “Well,she’sa drag queen.Robertruns his own production business, just like I’ve said. But Renée does drag shows at Tilt-a-Whirl. I help with both things. I make Renée’s dresses, take photos for her flyers, and keep up with her calendar. For Robert, I do filing, and help him with the editing of his documentaries, public TV episodes, and that kind of thing. That’s it.”
