“For your information, Mom. Mikey overstepped. How about that?” I asked, looking away and chewing on my lower lip as I stared out the window. I never raised my voice at my parents and I was immediately disappointed by my behavior. “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” I offered. “But Mikey did something this time, Mom, not me.”
“And what would that be?” she asked, still suspicious I’d over thought something.
“He told me he’s gay and he wants to be with me.”
She stared at me in disbelief.
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m serious, he did.”
“What about . . .?” she began. “And . . .” She couldn’t gather her train of thoughts.
“I know, Mom,” I soothed. “I know.”
“What are you going . . .?” She stopped speaking.
I assumed she was going to ask what I was going to do. “I don’t know, Mom,” I cut in after her thoughts got derailed again. “We had a disagreement afterwards, so we aren’t speaking,” I updated her.
“Does Kathleen know?” she asked, searching for some kind of solid footing, something a mother could grasp ahold of after hearing the stunning news. “I mean, does she even know?”
“I’m going to assume she does. Mikey and her talk about everything. You know how Mrs. H. is. She’s into expression and truth. Nothing bothers her.”
“I’m not bothered,” she argued.
“I know that, Mom. That’s not what I meant,” I responded. “Can we calm down for a second? I’m the one that should be freaking out.”
We watched from a distance while Mikey exited the store with another customer. He was with our neighbor, Mr. Peterson. This time Mikey noticed us in Mom’s car. He tilted his head toward us and waved.
“Should we go home?” Mom asked.
“That’d be weird, Mom. Can you please just go in? I’ll talk with him.”
“Will you be okay, honey?”
“It’s Mikey, Mom.”
“Of course it is,” she agreed, patting my leg. “Talk later?”
“Talk later,” I agreed. “Go ahead and go in please,” I added while Mikey assisted Mr. Peterson.
Mom hurried into the store, nervously glancing over her shoulder three separate times.Good job, Mom. Act normal.
I hopped out of the car and waited for Mikey while he held a conversation with Mr. Peterson. The usual ache that often set up shop in my heart was back. There are things in life that people covet or desire so strongly that a physical response to loss is not uncommon. I was in that category. In my inexperienced mind, Mike Hill was everything that I wanted in a lifetime mate. I think I figured that out when I was about twelve which was when I saw him as someone other than a friend.
The longing and love I felt was overwhelming from that day on. I’m not embarrassed to say that he was my breath, my life, the one thing I thought about nonstop. I couldn’t imagine my life without Mikey. So far, I’d been able to suppress my desire in exchange for what hecouldgive. After knowing that there was a possibility that he felt the same way, our friendship would be different, maybe impossible for me now.
Mikey strode over in that masculine dude-walk sorta way that drove me wild. He was such a guy and I guess that was a whole heap of my attraction to him. His appeal was his walk, his demeanor, that had recently been hitting me in areas I’d never recognized. He was handsome in khakis and a short sleeve button-down with the top unbuttoned at the collar and a loose tie reaching toward his belt. He was boyish and he took my breath away. A fresh stab hit me square in the heart.
“Hi,” I said, when he walked up smiling. “How’s work today?”
“It’s okay.” He had trouble making eye contact. This was it. The beginning of the end.
“Jennifer said you were sick,” I said.
“Yeah. I had Mom tell her that,” he answered, raising his eyes from the pavement and watching me carefully, testing my mood I suppose. “I’m notthough.”
“That’s good,” I said. “I was worried.”
“You were,” he asked, lighting up and jamming his hands into his pockets. “Thanks,” he added. “I was worried too.”
