13
Trevor
I tuggedthe cuff of my sweater over my wrist as Dad and I waited for Mom to finish getting ready for Christmas dinner at my grandma’s house. We’d been so busy since returning from New York that I hadn’t seen Gabe in two days. That wasn’t long, but it felt like a lifetime to me. I’d wished he’d been with me when Mom sat me down to hear all about the trip. But then, I’d realized how quickly I’d grown accustomed to having him close to me and decided it was better this way. We needed to be careful around one another until I managed to man up.
I needed to figure out how I could come out to my parents without simultaneously letting them know I was in a relationship with the one person I knew they’d never accept as the person I wanted to spend my life with. Still, I’d been restless since he’d stolen a kiss goodnight a few blocks from home before dropping me off. Neither of us would be truly content while I kept such a vital piece of my existence a secret. Today would be our first true test, the first time we’d been forced to spend time together in front of our families since experiencing what it felt like to be happy and free.
“You okay, bud?” Dad startled me and I jumped. He eyed me, silently telling me he knew I was lying to them about something. I didn’t make a habit of lying to them, not only out of respect, but because I sucked at it. I nodded, unwilling to say anything that’d cause him to ask questions. “You sure? You seem awfully quiet ever since you came home. Did something happen between you and Gabe?”
“No!” The reaction was instant and a bit too loud to avoid drawing suspicion. So much had happened, but nothing I was going to share with Dad. Not yet. If anyone in my family could be an ally through this, it was him. He’d never judged me for anything, always told me I could do whatever I wanted in life as long as I was truly happy. Did that sentiment extend to falling in love with Gabe?
Dad checked the time and led me into his den. Where the rest of the house was light and airy, a nod to Mom’s style, this room was all rich colors and dark wood. The faint scent of lemon furniture polish hung in the air, just as it had my entire life. Dad motioned for me to sit on the leather couch and sat next to me rather than in the recliner he preferred.
“Trev, I need to ask you something.” He wrung his hands in his lap, as though this were difficult for him. Yeah, well welcome to the club because I was about ready to lose my damn mind. My heart raced as I realized Dad knew something. Maybe?—probably?— not everything, but he knew. Why else were we having this discussion down here, away from Mom?
I swallowed hard and sucked in a sharp breath. I could make him ask the question on his mind or I could take control of the situation and give him what I hoped was enough information that he’d back off for the time being. “Dad, I need to tell you something first.”
“Okay.” He reached out for my hand, squeezing gently as he watched the expression on my face falter. “Whatever it is, you know we’ll still love you. No matter what.”
“I know,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure how far that love extended. This was pretty big. They’d never given me a reason to feel like their love was conditional, but I still doubted his sincerity.
“Does this have something to do with you and Gabe?” he asked when the words wouldn’t work themselves past the lump in my throat. I nodded. “And whatever it is, you think we’ll judge you for it?” I nodded again, grateful that he was letting me off the hook. Dad slid closer to me on the couch and draped his arm over my shoulders. “Tell me, Trevor. If you’re not ready to say anything to your mother, I won’t force you. I won’t say anything, either, not without warning you first.”
“You’d lie to her for me?” I gaped at him, wondering if this was a dream, because he was the one who always insisted on honesty, even when it wasn’t easy.
“Son, there are times in life when you have to temper the truth,” he told me. “Too many facts at once can be overwhelming. I told you your mom is struggling with you being away from home. She’s worried about you, and I think she’d like to know you’re okay. But if you dump everything that’s weighing you down onto her at once, she’ll have even more to worry about. So, I’m giving you the opportunity to get it off your chest without you having to bear that burden at the same time.”
“I think I understand.” But I didn’t, not really. I’d always believed no one would accept us, but now Dad was hinting that he knew and he didn’t seem angry with me.
“Maybe we should start small,” he suggested.
There was nothing small about this conversation. Every step felt impossible. Every revelation like walking through a field of landmines at night; the danger was there, but I couldn’t see it clearly.
“You have to say it, Trevor. I can’t do this for you.” I flicked at the cushion stitching, the rhythmic sound centering me until Dad reached over and stilled my hand. “I will guarantee you you’re making this out to be a much bigger deal in your mind than it is. Have we ever given you the impression we’d love you less if you didn’t follow a certain path in life?”
“No.”
“And have we ever knowingly minimized your feelings?”
“No.”
“Have we done anything to make you think we wouldn’t accept you, love you, just the way you are?”
“No.”
Dad smiled. “Okay, so with all of that fresh in your mind, why don’t you try and tell me.”
“I’m gay,” I whispered. My stomach flipped and I eased myself to the edge of the couch, just in case I needed to make a quick exit. Gabe once told me that saying the words out loud was freeing, but I felt like a prisoner waiting for a sentence to be handed down.
It didn’t matter how many ways Dad tried reminding me I was loved unconditionally, I was still waiting for him to tell me to leave his house. Instead, he pulled me against his side and kissed the top of my head. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d given me more than a quick hug, but I closed my eyes and cherished his comfort. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What were you expecting, Trevor?” He pulled back and I finally looked at him, ready for censure in his gaze. There was none. Only love and a hint of sadness. “I wish you’d realized sooner that you could’ve told us and it wouldn’t change anything, but this is your life. I’ve had my suspicions for a while but didn’t want to push you before you were ready?”
“Then why now?” He could’ve easily kept his head buried in the sand. Could’ve kept waiting on me to be honest with him. What changed?
“You’re hurting. I see it; your mom sees it. She’s been trying to convince herself it’s because you’re homesick, but I had a different theory. Would you like to hear it?”
