“I did,” I said, staring at my phone, waiting for the pieces to click into place.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ve lost me,” she said with a chuckle. “I thought that place was full of men.”
It was my father who sighed heavily after more silence. “Candace…c’mon now. I know math wasn’t your best subject, but the numbers you’re tryin’ to add are two and two…four is pretty easy to figure out.”
“I…you…” she began, and I winced. My father’s reaction was…well, it gave little away, because he was just exasperated with her.
“He met a man,” my father added bluntly, again giving away nothing about how he felt.
“But you never…” she said, and I hated how lost she sounded.
I had never had to consider how my parents would deal with the idea that I was anything but straight. Neither my brother nor I had ever shown any inclination toward anything but women, especially my brother, who had yet to sow his wild oats, apparently. I wasn’t the type to bring someone home often, not because I didn’t want to commit, but because meeting my family was a huge deal as far as I was concerned. It was only when I was sure there might be some long-term potential that I brought someone to meet them.
Since I’d never considered it, I had no idea how my parents would handle the thought of one of their children not bringing a woman home, or more than that. Not that I was going to assume Walker and I were that kind of serious, but things between him and me had been going on long enough for me to say something. Not that I’d talked to him about telling my parents, which was probably something I should have done.
Then again, I probably should have put more thought into how my parents would react before dropping it in their laps without warning. My heart was thundering in my chest and sweat was thick on my palms as I had to focus on my breathing. I suddenly had a whole new appreciation for the people who’d had to have this conversation with their parents.
My mother cleared her throat roughly before speaking. “You…met a man? Romantically?”
I couldn’t say how romantic it was since Walker and I hadn’t talked, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell my parents that right now I was only confident about the sexual side of things. We were close, but we weren’tthatclose. “Yeah Mama, I did.”
“I-I’m sorry, honey,” she said, taking another breath as I felt mine catch in my throat. “This probably ain’t the reaction you were hoping for. I just…you’ve caught me right off guard.”
“Oh, quit bein’ so dramatic, Candace,” my father said gruffly. “Just means he realized that women ain’t worth the bother is all, and that’s a smart choice if ya ask me.”
“You and me are going to have a friendly talk about what is and isn’t smart,” she said in a low voice. “And, Cade, honey…why didn’t you tell us you were gay?”
“I’m not!” I said quickly, then grimaced. “I mean, I know I’m not. I still like women.”
“But—”
“But I’m currently…interested in a man.”
“Now hold on a second here,” my father said, and his voice sounded closer to the phone. “You’re ‘interested’ in a man? You’re tellin’ me you’re surprising us with this and ya ain’t even with ’em?”
“I…it’s complicated,” I said, still trying to tap dance around the details.
“Ya mean you’re screwin’ but ain’t tryin’ to settle down,” he huffed.
“Dad!” I protested as my mother barked out. “Carl!”
“Oh, call a spade a spade already,” he said, his tone saying he had no time for our indignation. “The boy figures he’s into boys, and that’s when he decides he’s gonna start acting more like his brother.”
“I am not…” I began, realizing it was a bad idea to call my brother a slut over the phone.
“A slut,” my mother said with a sigh, and coughed. “Well, anyway. So you’re not gay?”
“No, Ma,” I said, letting my head fall into my hands. I really didn’t know how I didn’t expect this conversation to spiral out of control when that was exactly the effect my family had on just about anything. “I’m still very much into women. I’m just…also very much into this man.”
“This one? Just this one?”
“Uh, so far. Ain’t bothered tryin’ to figure out if it’s more men,” I said, glaring between my fingers at the phone. “That was for you, Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah, ain’t my fault ya don’t know how to settle down.”
“Jesus Christ, Dad.”
“Now watch your language, Cade Whitmore,” my mother scolded, slapping me back to reality with my middle name. The full name hadn’t come out though, so I was relatively safe.
