“We didn’t divorce you two,” Dad argues. “We made a horrible mistake. Lots of them, actually, but we’re still your parents. There’s no denying that. Blood is thicker than water.”
Mom suddenly shifts her attention to Declan who’s still standing silently behind me. “How are you, Declan? You look well.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barlowe. I’m well,” Declan replies curtly. I feel his hand on my back for a moment.
“I… well, I hear it’s been a… year of change for you. I hope that your mom… that your family is doing well in spite of it all.” On a list of Top Ten Most Awkward Things to say, that statement has got to be in the top five.
“My family is perfect,” Declan replies firmly, but without any sign of annoyance, even though I’m sure he’s annoyed. I would be downright offended. “And you likely shouldn’t believe everything you read. Especially if it’s on that gossip rag Mrs. Green created. Doesn’t Timothy 5:13 say something about gossipers being busybodies who talk nonsense?”
I’m so impressed he remembers that that I almost smile. But instead, I bite the inside of my cheek and stare straight ahead at my parents. Mom looks slighted. Dad’s mouth and jaw, the same strong, wide shape as my own, tightens. It creates deep creases he didn’t have last time I was on speaking terms with him. “We know she isn’t the best source of information, which is why we’re here. To find out for ourselves how our children are doing.”
“We’re doing fine, Jonah,” I say, calling him by his first name, which feels foreign but also right. He is not a father to me anymore. Maybe he never was.
“The fact that you’re here, with my daughter, at…” Mom looks at her watch. Who the hell still wears a watch? “Ten in the morning must mean that something Mrs. Green insinuated was true. You’re Andie’s dad?”
“Me?” Declan almost chokes. “No. But the other thing Mrs. Green once reported was true. I’m gay.”
I watch that statement hit my parents like a slap across the face. They both blink, their heads pulling back a bit, and then their eyes go from my face to Declan’s and back to mine. I move my hand from where it’s dangling by my left side and reach back. I bump Declan’s thigh but then I feel his fingertips. And then his palm and then the floorboards creak and he moves to stand beside me. Our fingers laced together.
I can feel the heat of both their stares on our joined hands like I’ve just thrown them on a hot grill. If I looked down and saw grill marks on the back of my hand, I wouldn’t be surprised. But I don’t look down. I keep my eyes straight ahead on these two humans who regret the day they created me because I didn’t fit a mold they wanted.
My mother takes a breath so deep and shaky I can hear it through the screen. “We still love you, Abbott. And your sister. And we want a chance to love that baby girl.”
“I can’t give that to you,” I say, ignoring the first half of her statement because it feels too good to be true. They didnotjust accept me. I can tell by the resigned tone in her voice. This isn’t love driving her. I don’t know what it is. “Andie is Aspen’s child and she makes the decisions about who to let in. She doesn’t want to let you in.”
“Do you really love us now?” Aspen’s voice hits the back of my ears. It’s soft, but there’s the unmistakable lilt of hope in it.
Declan and I both turn and see her standing in the doorway to the living room. She steps onto the porch, one hand under Andie’s butt, the other gingerly holding the back of her head. Andie seems to have calmed down and is resting her chubby little cheek on Aspen’s shoulder. I turn back to look at our parents. Mom looks like she might cry again. “We always wanted to love you, Aspen. Both of you. We thought… we needed to show you tough love to save you.”
“And now you don’t think that?” Aspen asks and takes another step forward. I tense. Declan’s grip on my hand gets a little tighter. He’s holding on, trying to keep me calm and safe.
“We know now that tough love isn’t love,” Dad says. “We realize it’s not our job to judge you for your choices.”
“Being gay isn’t a choice.” The words are in stereo because Aspen, Declan, and I say them all at the same time.
Dad fights another frown. Ma looks more eager than ever. She smiles softly… tentatively. “We don’t judge you for being gay, Abbott. We just want to be in our grandchild’s life.”
“And get to know our kids again,” Dad adds.
“Do you want to have a coffee or tea?” Aspen asks suddenly and now her tone isn’t just slightly hopeful, it’s full-on optimistic. And that makes me want to puke.
“We would love that.” Mom gushes and Dad is nodding behind her. Then their eyes turn to me expectantly. “We’d love to spend time with you too, Abbott. Come to that Cup celebration you’re planning. We don’t have to get in your way or anything. Just, maybe watch from the background?”
“Your team reached out to us. That’s why we were at the charity game,” Dad explains.
“We didn’t try to ambush you. We thought you knew we were coming.”
I stare at them for a long second, taking in their demeanor. Dad stands like he’s always stood — shoulders back, chin up. He was an army cadet as a kid and everything from his posture to his parenting was militant. I’m taller than him, I realize, even through the screen. We were about the same height by the time I was seventeen, and he shoved me up against the wall in our front foyer and told me to leave and never come back. I’ve seen him a couple times since that night. In my senior year, he would sit up in the stands at a hockey game every now and then. He didn’t think I saw him, but I did. And they were in the last row of the seats set up at my high school graduation. I saw them, and pretended I didn’t, as I strode across the stage to get my diploma. There were a few more sightings, but like the other times they were always far away. I let go of Declan’s hand, take a step closer to the screen, and narrow my eyes. Do I want to believe them? Can I let myself?
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I say honestly.
“Can you try?” Mom asks. “That’s all we ask.”
“We’ll give you time to think about it,” Dad says and touches Mom’s shoulder. “Come on, Peggy, let’s give them time. Aspy honey, good luck at the police academy. We ran into Chief Winslow at Patti’s Parlor last night and he told us about your new job. Be careful.”
I spin to face her. “Your what?”
“It’s not important right now” Aspen tells me and then lowers her voice to a whisper, her eyes darting to our parents outside and then back to me. “Abbott, please. Maybe we can talk to them a bit more.”
