I can’t legally marry. So… what then?
Yet, here we are. I know this conversation. My sister and two of my brothers have told me almost verbatim what it comprises. This is it.
“Dad—” I begin.
He tilts his head as he studies me. We’ve never actually had a discussion about it. I know in my family, usually by our twenty-fifth birthdays, we’ve begun talking about a proposed pairing. But… it’s not legal. So I didn’t think it’d be a conversation with me.
“You’ve never expressed your disinterest in this area, Arush,” Dad says.
I’m not sure where to go with this. “Dad, it’s not legal. I’m not even sure you can make it legal.”
Understanding erases the momentary confusion. “I’m not worried aboutlegality.”
“Says a lawyer,” I murmur, causing my father to smile widely.
“Son, just because the law doesn’t recognize it doesn’t mean our families will not.”
On the one hand, I truly love that. I love how my father has thought about my future. About making a home for me somewhere. Just as he has with my siblings.
Except…
“I need to tell you something,” I begin.
“Why you were lingering outside my door?” he asks, raising a brow.
I smile sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been trying to work up the courage.” His amusement fades, so I quickly continue. “Not that I…” I take a breath. “I met someone. Online.”
“Ah,” he says and leans back in his chair to listen.
“We met and want to be together.” This is all wildly exaggerated. I know for a fact my father wouldn’t approve of this particular method of matching.
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s American. A professional hockey player. He lives in Chicago in a condo with big windows.” I stop. That’s practically all I know. There are some personal details thatI love, but I’m not sure they’re shareable without me bursting into flames.
We’ve corresponded a few times via email and text. Conversations that make my heart race. I’m ready for this. I’m ready to fall in love with this man.
My father’s nodding. That slow, thoughtful kind of nod. “That’s all you want to share?”
“He’s… twenty-two,” I offer.
Amusement washes over my father’s face. “I see.”
“He asked me to move out there—hockey isn’t the kind of job he can transfer to out here. And… there’s the fact that same-sex marriage is legal there.”
“You told him yes,” my father guesses.
I nod. Still a widely exaggerated pretense of this conversation I shared with Julian. The agreement on the match through the website was practically the conversation having been had for us. That’s the entire point of the website service, right? The only part that we discussed about it is when. I said in three days. That’s tomorrow.
“You’d like a plane ticket,” he guesses.
I shake my head. “No. He’s already purchased my ticket.”
A twinkle of surprise flickers in his eyes.
“Tomorrow,” I say. “My plane leaves in the morning before the sun rises.”
“That’s very soon.”
