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And then, as if on cue, Mom yelled from the kitchen, “BOYS! WASH UP! TIME TO EAT!”
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~oOo~
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Petra spooned au gratinpotatoes on her plate. Jay’s mom was a great cook, but she was not a fancy cook. Homestyle cooking with some Texas flair. Best food in the world.
“I didn’t set out to open a lesbian bar,” Petra said as she handed the bowl to Jay. “I just know a lot of lesbians, and they showed up to support me. They kept showing up, and telling everybody they knew—and they know a lot of lesbians. Now Gertrude’s is kind of a big deal in the community.”
Jay’s leg was going five hundred miles an hour. Right here over the roast chicken, potatoes, buttermilk biscuits, and green beans, Pop had just up and asked Petra about being bisexual and owning a gay bar. Jay had nearly choked and then tried to cut that topic off, but Petra set her hand on his leg—he’d tried to stop bouncing and had failed—and she’d answered the question. And then the next. And the next. Now she was telling the whole story.
Mom was watching the exchange with wary interest, too. Jay felt like they were both on security detail.
“It’s a real nice place,” Pop said, plucking a biscuit from the basket and handing the basket to Mom. “I guess you read a lot.”
“I do. My parents did, too. Especially my dad ...” She faded out, and Jay saw her cloud of grief come down and settle over her head. Then she shook it off and smiled at his father. “That’s the bar I actually opened. I’ve always been fascinated by Paris, and the ex-pat authors who lived there in the 1920s. I was trying to recreate that.” She laughed—a real laugh, and those had been rare lately—“a lot of them were gay or at least open to ... call it non-normative sexuality. My friends all think I was an idiot for not realizing that I’d totallydesigneda gay bar.”
She took a biscuit and handed the basket to Jay. Then, with the tilt of her head that was her tell for assertiveness, she asked his father, “Are you curious, or are youtroubledby my sexuality?”
Jay sat up straight and looked at his mother, who had stopped chewing and was staring at Pop. He followed her gaze, and now everybody was looking at Pop.
He scanned their faces and chuckled. “Calm down, everybody. I’m old. I’m not a fossil.” Looking at Petra, he said, “Curious is what I am. But if I’m stickin’ my beak where it don’t belong, just say it.”
“We’re family, right?” Petra asked him. She squeezed Jay’s leg, and he was finally able to relax.
“That’s right.” Pop smiled at her.
“Then ask what you’re curious about, and I’ll tell you. If your beak is in my way, I’ll tell you that, too.”
Pop laughed. “That’s fair. You’re alright, hon.” His expression softened. “You’re gonna be alright. We got you.”
As Pop’s meaning went from approval to support, Jay felt the shift as a blow to his chest. And he could see Petra take the blow twice as hard. She blinked and stiffened. Then her head fell forward and she stared at her plate. Jay knew she was struggling against a burst of emotion, and he wanted to do something to help her, but he couldn’t think of anything, here at the table, in front of his parents, except to put his arm over her shoulders.
She looked up then, so quickly she almost shrugged his arm away. To his father, she said, “Thank you.”
Pop accepted her thanks with an affectionate nod.
Jay looked to his mother and found her eyes—flooded and sparkling—on him. She smiled a small, private smile. In that tiny expression, Jay saw that he had everything he’d ever needed. Even things he hadn’t known he’d needed.
If he achieved nothing else in his life, he’d be fine. Right now, he had everything that mattered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
