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I haven’t had to worry about these things in a long, long time.
And certainly never before with Jimmy.
I lift an arm and take a sniff of my pit. Soapy and fresh from the shower, good. I check my breath. Not so fresh. I decide to brush my teeth, even though I haven’t eaten dinner yet. I take a comb to my hair too and give it a better shape, fussing with it.
I take more care with my hair tonight than I did for my date with Malcolm Tucci.
When I’m done, I’m back to staring at myself. Another breath draws in through my nostrils, then slowly out my parted lips.
My heart’s racing so fast, I feel like I could pass out.
What’s the big deal? Just be yourself, and relax.
I let myself out of the bathroom, and already I hear Jimmy chatting away with my ma. They appear to be talking about the pros and cons of running a ranch the size of the Strong’s. When I come into view at the small archway to the dining room, Jimmy stops talking at once and gazes at me with this beautiful, faraway expression, like the sight of me has taken him somewhere.
Lord knows why. I’m just my same old self. “Hey, Jimmy.”
My greeting breaks him from his trance. His words come out in half a croak: “Hey there, Bobs.”
My ma brings dinner to the table, but stops for a second at the exit to the kitchen, her eyes observing the pair of us. Then, with a coy little smile on her face, she slaps down a potholder, then sets a casserole on top of it. Jimmy turns back to her with wide eyes, then gets straight to serving himself, mumbling, “Good Lord, ma’am, Patricia, this smells heavenly!” And my ma is too quick to mutter, “Just Patricia. You know better than to ma’am me!”
I find I barely have an appetite, what with all the excitement and anticipation of my first night off squirreling through my guts, but I make myself eat at least one serving before calling it quits. The whole dinner’s conversation is occupied with Jimmy and my ma exchanging pleasantries about farm life, interrupted just for a moment by my pa’s late return from a job. He joins us at the table, gives Jimmy a hearty greeting, and the four of us finish eating like one big, happy family, just like we used to do back in the day.
And after my pa mentions “odd shenanigans out in Fairview”, Jimmy nudges me and says, “Tell that to this one. He was almost married to the chef’s son at Nadine’s, thanks to my mama.”
I snort halfway through a sip of my water. “I wasn’t married to anyone, thank you very much. It was just a date with a guy I likely won’t be seein’ again.”
Unbeknownst to myself or Jimmy, my ma is staring at us from across the table, this teary-eyed, happy expression pasted over her face. Then, like a balloon pricked by a needle, she explodes with, “Oh, I just love the pair of you together!”
My eyes flash. I stare at her. “Ma …” I start.
Jimmy, oblivious to what my ma is now privy to, smirks and punches me in the arm. “We make a great team, don’t we? Too bad I wasn’t in soccer, or this one wasn’t in dance. Then we could be an actual team.”
For a second, I breathe a sigh of relief that the comment goes right on by without any deeper implication revealed.
Until my ma goes and says: “Oh, you’re just so cute together, I can’t wait to see the sweet pair a’ you married!”
Jimmy’s eyebrows pull together, the first trace of suspicion crossing his face. He eyes me, concerned.
And I’m staring hard at my ma, clenching my fork so tightly, it might bend in half. “Ma,” I press even harder.
Then my pa chuckles deeply, amused. “Well, you can wish it all you want, Patricia, but Jimmy here’s going to be married to a lovely girl someday, not our son.” He gives me a wink. “And you’ll have yourself a handsome lad who prefers boys over girls.”
In the past three years since I’ve come out, I still haven’t corrected my pa’s use of words like “prefer” and “preference”. I guess there’s more dire things to focus on than a choice of words.
Like my ma slipping up at the dinner table—without even realizing she has. “Ma, I think it’s time for me and Jimmy to—”
“Yes, yes,” she agrees, her eyes still twinkling. “You two need your alone time. Just you boys.” She giggles. “Don’t touch a thing, Jimmy, I’ll get all the plates. Oh, you two!” She titters again, then starts cleaning up the table.
And Jimmy still hasn’t stopped giving me that hardened look in his eyes.
Shit.
After the table’s cleaned up and I’ve gathered my stuff, I give my ma a kiss on the cheek and my pa a tight hug before Jimmy and I head out the door.
