Page 82 of Every Almost

Ed set down his coffee cup. His face didn't change at all. He looked at Charlie and waited, the way he waited through presentations at the plant, letting the other person finish before deciding.

But instead, Diane spoke first. Her voice was thin and high and shaking in a way that Charlie had never heard before, because Diane Wickett did not fall apart.

"What did you just say?"

Charlie took a deep breath again. "I said I'm gay, Mom."

"No." Diane's hand went to the counter, her voice weak but stern. She steadied herself. "No, you are not."

She said it as though she'd made the decision for Charlie, for everyone listening in the room. As though what was being presented to her was false information that didn't make a lick ofsense. Something she had to refuse because it was so atrociously out of line that she had to kick it away before it infected her picture-perfect family.

"I am, Mom. It's not something you can chang?—"

"This is what California is doing to you." Diane's voice climbed, interrupting Charlie. "This is what happens when you go all the way out there, away from your family, away from everything we raised you to be and meet...fiends." She said the last word as though it disgusted her to have it in her mouth. "Someone got into your head. Someoneinfluencedyou?—"

"Nobody influenced me, Mom." Charlie's voice lowered and slowed.

"I thought you'd get it out of your system!" Diane's voice cracked open, and underneath the anger was something raw. "I thought you'd go out there, get the education, and comehome.Meet a nice man. Getmarried, Charlotte. Havechildren.That's why we let you go! We thought—" She pressed her hand to her mouth, then pulled it away. "We thought it was aphase."

The word landed like a slap.Phase.As though everything Charlie had discovered about herself in those years of silence, the wall she'd built at thirteen, California knocking it down, Joss, The Boulevard, every honest moment she'd fought for, it was all something temporary. Something Diane had been waiting for her to outgrow, the way she'd outgrown the baggy flannels and the hair appointments.

Charlie thought about the driveway the morning she'd left for Caltech. The way Diane had held on to her for the first and only time. She understood now that hug had counted for two things. The love her mother did have for her, but also patience. Diane's arms around her daughter, waiting for the phase to end and the real Charlie to come home.

"This is me, Mom. This is who I am."

"Who youare?" Diane continued, her composure barely held together. "Who you are is a beautiful young woman with her entire future ahead of her. And you're telling me you want to throw all of that away?" Diane's eyes were wet now, but the tears weren't sadness. They were anger. "What a waste, Charlotte. What awasteof your... yourexceptionallygood looks." Diane scoffed. "Looks that came frommyside of the family, by the way." Ed turned his gaze to Diane but said nothing. "What a waste of such aprettyface."

The words landed exactly where Diane aimed them. Not at Charlie's choices. At Charlie's face, her body. At the thing she had always valued most about her daughter and understood least about who she actually was.

Katie's hand found Charlie's under the table and held it.

Charlie looked at her father. Ed had barely moved. He had not spoken. He continued to sit in his chair with his coffee cup on the table.

"Dad?"

Ed was quiet. Then he spoke, and his voice was flat and final.

"You are not welcome in this house as long as you choose to live like that."

Charlie heard the wordchooseand understood that her father believed this was a decision she had made, like picking a college or a career. A checkbox. A preference that could be unchecked if she came to her senses. She also understood that there was nothing she could say to change what was happening. She had known that before she sat down. She had hoped for better, but she had prepared for this.

"Then I guess this is goodbye," Charlie said, standing from her chair and pulling her bag across her shoulder. Diane's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Charlie didn't look at her. She didn't look at either of her parents.

Katie stood up beside Charlie as she was gathering her things.

"She's yourdaughter," Katie said. Her voice was low and shaking and certain.

"Katherine, sit down," Ed barked.

Katie didn't sit down. Her eyes went from her father to her mother. Then she turned to Charlie, and her face held the expression she'd been wearing since she was five years old and climbed into Charlie's bed because her sister was sad and she wasn't going to leave her alone.

"You've never seen Charlie for who she really is. Someoneextraordinary," Katie said, taking Charlie's hand. "Remember, later on, when you're old and gray, that this wasyourfault."

Katie turned to Charlie, face to face. "Can I move to California with you?"

Charlie's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Now, wait just a goddamn minute—" Ed began.