“Loretta told me to bring my girlfriend to the gallery opening and I said I would.”
Sweet summer child.“Okay…” I shrug. “You just need to explain you don’t have a girlfriend and move on.”
“So they think I’m an idiot? Or worse, a liar? A gay fraud? A gaud!”
I tilt my head, weighing the options. “It’s just a simple misunderstanding.”
“No, it’s not. It was first day nerves mixed with an inability to focus on one moment and think about the bigger picture and shit—I’ve ruined it.”
“You haven’t ruined anything,” I argue.
“I have! What if they only hired me because I’m gay?”
“You’re not gay.”
“Exactly!”
“Are you seriously claiming reverse discrimination? In this year of our Lord two thousand and twenty-two?” I tease, smiling into my wine glass.
“No? No,” she asks, then answers herself immediately. “Well…”
“Clara,” I chastise, smiling ear to ear.
“I think that’s an amazing thing! I think that if Loretta wants to exclusively work with artists who are gay, then that’s what she should do. I think that’s fine!”
“Well, so long asyouthink it’s fine.”
She glares affectionately, a laugh breaking through. “Fuck off.”
“So, what are you going to do?” I ask.
Clara places her cheek on the table and I grimace, wondering the last time it was properly sanitised. “I guess I have two choices. Come clean and look like a complete dunce to the one person I’ve been wanting to impress for almost a decade or…”
“Or?” I ask.
“Be gay?”
“So it’s a choice? Wow, the congregation back home will be delighted to hear you’ve changed your stance,” I quip.
Clara’s face falls immediately. I swallow wine.You’ve made her uncomfortable.
“When was the last time you went home?” she asks solemnly.
“Haven’t been back since we left. Ten years,” I answer coldly. I started dating Natalie only a year after leaving home, making it much easier to forget about my family.
Nat’s family was warm and welcoming and incredibly supportive of their daughter. We went there for every holiday. They sent cards for birthdays and notes for no reason and checked-in often. When Nat and I got engaged, her mom offered to dance with me while Natalie danced with her dad at the reception. That meant a lot to me.
But, ultimately, I wasn’t their kid. So when Nat left, they sent one last message wishing me well and that was it. The end of a nine-year relationship and truly I’m not sure who I’m most upset to lose.
“I’m sorry,” Clara sighs, reaching across the table and holding my hand in hers. “I hate that.”
“I know.” I slide my hand free and scratch my chin. I hadn’t really considered just how difficult this holiday season would be until this afternoon, not just because it’ll be my first alone in a decade. It was the small red envelope I found in my staff room’s cubby this afternoon.
Augustine’s Staff Holiday Party. December 9th. This year’s hosts, none other than my ex and the fucking history teacher. At the home they now live in, together. With a fucking dog, according to social media. Natalie hates dogs.
But Natalie hated a lot of things she now tolerates. Like hosting work events and people who cheat on their partners. None of it makes sense.
“I have an idea.” The words tumble out of me. “I think I have a solution that will help us both,” I add before taking aheftysip of liquid courage.
