“And for the record, Kennedy and I werenevera couple.” My mother gasps, the serving platter that she just pulled out of the cupboard shattering on the granite floor.
“Now you’re just being spiteful,” she seethes. Cara rushes in to see what’s going on and gives me a concerned look as she pulls the broom out of the cleaning closet. I shake my head, letting her know that the worst is still to come.
On the way over here, I warned Cara and Andrew that I plan to come out to my family today. Like Dom, they tried to talk me out of it because it’ll ruin what should be a happy day. Besides the fact that nothing in our house is ever as happy as it seems on the surface, this is one time I have to stand up for myself. It’s time that they know what I have since I was fourteen.
“Mom, I’ll take care of that. Why don’t you sit for a minute?” Cara offers, pouring a hefty glass of pinot noir even though it’s barely noon. She hands it to our mother and then pours one for herself before grabbing the broom again.
“Cara, your brother can clean up that mess. He caused it, so there’s no point in your fixing it.” Cara kisses my mother’s cheek then gives me a quick hug before making a hasty retreat.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” she whispers.
“I know, but I can’t keep on like this forever, right?” She flashes a sad smile as she walks to the den to let the guys know what happened.
After pulling a beer out of the fridge, I sit across the table from my mother. I wonder if she’s always looked so tired. There’s nothing obvious, but the more I study her features, the more I can see deep lines and dark circles hidden by carefully applied makeup. And that light that used to shine in her eyes on Christmas is absent.
“Mom, I’m not trying to be spiteful, I’m telling you the truth. Kennedy and I have been best friends since high school, but never anything more,” I say, reaching for a handful of chips that are going uneaten because no one will brave entering the warzone for munchies.
“What about the nights she’d sneak into your bedroom when you thought we were sleeping?” Mom asks, sitting a bit straighter with a smug expression on her face. Okay, so I didn’t realize my parents knew about that, but it doesn’t change the facts.
“She’d come over to sleep. That’s it. Her parents fought a lot for a while and she couldn’t stand being there,” I admit to her. “But you have to let go of this idea of Kennedy and I settling down at some point because it’s not going to happen. She’s in a committed relationship and I hope to find the same at some point.”
My mother stares out the window, transfixed by something in the postage-stamp sized backyard. It’s snowing again, which makes me think about sitting on the couch with Dom last night listening to him tell me about his life with Brandon. A decade or more from now, I hope that it’s me he’s thinking about when he calls up such memories, but we’ll be lying together reminiscing about these first days together.
“I’m not sure what to say to you, Anthony,” my mother sighs. Her entire body is now turned away as if repulsed by me. If she feels that way now, I can’t wait until the next bombshell drops. “You’ve lied to us for so long, I just don’t know what to do.”
My mother does something I’m not sure she’s done in my entire life. She walks away from me with her shoulders slumped in defeat. I’m left alone at the table, wondering if things would have stood a chance of a different outcome had I not used Kennedy for so long; if I’d been the man I should have been all along. My phone buzzes in my pants pocket. I pull it out and see a new text message from Dom.
Headed to Gus and Mama’s. Don’t get in trouble today. Thanks for this morning.
Mom calls the women in to help her set the table for dinner. They all work around me, avoiding any eye contact. Already, I feel like a pariah. Rather than deal with their condescending glares and whispered gossip, I head out to the living room and sit on the floor with the kids. Right about now, I’m pretty sure it’s the only place I’m welcome.
“Faggot!” my eldest nephew, Aaron yells to one of the other kids.
“Aaron, you don’t say things like that,” I scold him. For a solid minute, I struggle to catch my breath, not believing that a nine year old even knows such a hateful word. I’m not sure why it surprises me after some of the things I’ve overheard kids say, but I can’t imagine my brother and his wife allowing that language out of their child. “Do you even know what that means?”
Bile rises in my throat as Aaron comes over to sit on my lap. He leans in close, as if he’s about to share a secret he’s not supposed to. One little finger crooks, begging me to lower my head to his mouth. “Daddy said it when he saw two boys kissing at the mall. I don’t think he knows I heard him. And Bobby is a faggot, he just kissed Paulie on the lips.”
This is my worst nightmare come to life. Not only is my oldest brother, the one I looked up to as a child, a raging bigot, but he doesn’t bother to censor his hate around his only son. Rather than jump to correct my nephew, I wrap my arms around him, offering up a silent prayer that he won’t grow up to be like his father.
“Aaron, Bobby kissed Paulie because they’re brothers. It doesn’t mean anything.” He looks at me with deep brown eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Your daddy used to kiss me when we were little, but we don’t anymore.”
“You did?” he asks, those innocent eyes of his growing wide. I nod, waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. “But what about boys who aren’t brothers? Are they faggots?”
Every time this little boy says that word, it’s like a knife twisting deep into my heart. I want to burst out in tears, but I have to stay strong lest I give the family any more ammunition. “No, buddy. That’s a word you shouldn’t say about anyone. It’s mean and it hurts people.”Like me.“Some boys like girls and some boys like boys. There’s nothing wrong with it because something as good as love can’t be wrong.”
“Anthony Orlando DeLuca, whatfilthare you filling that poor child’s head with?” My father’s booming voice causes both Aaron and me to jump. I turn to see him looming directly behind us, aware of everything I’ve just said. Aaron rushes to hide behind my back. I can’t blame the kid because not once in my life have I seen such a terrifying glare on my father’s face. He looks ready to beat the piss out of someone and it only takes one guess to know who that someone is.
Unwilling to give him the perceived upper-hand, I stand so I’m standing chest to chest with my father. “It’s not filth, father, it’s the truth,” I hiss, puffing my chest out to challenge him. “The one you should be criticizing is Marco for passing such beliefs on to his child. If he says something like that to the wrong person, he’ll be beaten to a pulp.”
My fucking throat is closing and it’s hard to breathe. I’ve gone rounds with my father before, but this feels different. It’s the first time I’ve truly feared my father’s physical size.
“Yeah, as if some prissy fag-boy would be able to beat my grandson,” he chortles. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my sister-in-law, Amy, herding the kids out of the room. The rest of the adults are crammed into the doorway, only Andrew and Cara moving a step beyond.
“Is that what you believe, old man?” I yell, moving a step closer to him so our chests are touching. Right now, I’m seriously tempted to knock my father on his ass. “You think someone’s sexual orientation dictates how strong they are and whether or not they’re willing and able to stand up to bullies?”
“Tony, stop,” Cara pleads. When she tries to come to my side, Andrew pulls her back. I offer him a grateful glance before turning my attention back to my father.
“The next time you choose to make a comment like that, you’d best be ready for me to show you just how wrong you are,” I warn him. It’d be comical, the way everyone gasps in unison, if this wasn’t so disgusting.
