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I let out a tired sigh and propped my head up with my muted phone. On the other end of the call, my mom was rattling on about one of my Aunt Katie’s children doing something I’d already forgotten about. I was sitting in my parked car outside of the office. At this point in the conversation, the grey building was looking like a sanctuary.
It was a dull, chilly December day in Seattle. The clouds hung low and thick over the city, and the pavement was still wet with rain from the night before. The weather forecast called for more rain later today, and the sky threatened to deliver on this promise at any moment.
“Eli, are you listening to me?” I heard her ask after what I just realized had been a long silence.
I swore then unmuted the phone. “Yeah,” I lied.
“Anyway,” she said. “Before I got sidetracked, I was going to ask if you’re still planning on coming down this weekend.”
Shit. I thought. I closed my eyes and tried to conjure an adequate excuse to get me out of going down to my parents for Christmas... for the fifth year in a row.
Nothing was coming to mind. Because the truth was, I didn’t have an excuse. Other than the fact that going to see my family sounded about as much fun as having a case of hemorrhoids. But that wasn’t something you told your mother.
Back in college, I’d made it home every Christmas and every other holiday. But that had changed since I’d come out on Facebook senior year. Although several family members had come out of the woodworks to publicly state their love for me, more than a couple had taken it upon themselves to message me they “loved me but didn’t support my lifestyle.”
To a guy whose lifestyle consisted more of killing a can of Pringles while studying for a midterm than anything salacious, it had been confusing and annoying. And the rift that had started then had only grown wider in the years since.
“Mom, you know I’m busy,” I began, knowing damn well that she would see through the feeble attempt at getting out of the holidays again.
“Eli, you told me yourself that you’re taking the whole next week off,” she said flatly.
Why would I do something as stupid as that? I searched my memories for the conversation she was referring to, I had a vague recollection of telling her about it sometime over the summer.
I should’ve known she’d remember such a thing.
Next year, I’m working through the holidays. I told myself.
“So come down Saturday and spend the week with us,” she continued. “You haven’t been around much since your grandpa passed away.”
Here it comes, I thought with a cringe. The motherly guilt-trip.
Rather than stay silent until it had gone into full swing, I attempted to throw out a better defense.
“I’ve told you that being around the family is hard,” I said. “Aunt Tammy always gives me weird looks and Uncle Sam goes on homophobic rants all the time.” Last I remembered, the rants in question had gotten somewhat better, but I’d still heard a few drifting from rooms I wasn’t in. It didn’t help that Uncle Sam was very loud and extremely opinionated on everything.
“You just have to ignore them, Hun,” she said. “You know how they are; you can’t let it bother you.”
“Right,” I said. As long as I’ve been out, she’s never been able to understand what being the subject of familial scrutiny had done to me. And I was even being nice and leaving out the fact that she and my dad weren’t exactly innocent in the emotional toll exacted from me.
“You can’t help how others make you feel, but you can control how you respond,” Mom continued.
I rolled my eyes at that. It was one of her favorite catchphrases. She’d been particularly fond of it when I was a teenager in the full swing of my angst. Now, she only brought it up when I started complaining about something. It’s rough translation: “Shut up and deal with it.”
“Listen, I didn’t want to do this, but grandma isn’t getting any younger. You should at least come down so you can see her,” Mom continued. “It’d mean a lot to her.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Mom, she doesn’t even know me. Not really.”
“That’s not true,” Mom said. “Or very fair for that matter.”
“Does she even know I’m gay?”
There was a long drawn out silence on the other end. Then; “Is it really relevant?”
“It’s who I am.”
“What you do in the bedroom isn’t who you are,” Mom said. “Besides, what point is there to bother her with all of that? It’s not like you’re dating anyone.”
“That’s not what-” I let out a sigh. It didn’t matter what point I was trying to make. In the seven years since I’d come out, my mom hadn’t once asked about any relationships and only addressed my gayness when I brought it up. And even then, it was usually in a way that involved me feeling bad for daring to mention it.
Best to cut the conversation short then. “I’ve got to go Mom, I’m at work.”
“We’ll see you Saturday,” Mom said firmly.
Grinding my teeth, I said; “I’ll see what I can do.” I’d always been terrible at flat out rejecting my parents. It was definitely something I needed to work on. I vowed to add it to my list of New Year’s resolutions.
“Great. Love you!”
“You too,” I mumbled, hanging up. Climbing out of the car, the cool December air greeted me. My face felt tight from the chill.
I’d come up with an excuse to get out of going home later, I decided as I walked up the steps to my office building. I’d make up some emergency or lie about getting called in. Sure, I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d say, but I had time to figure it out.
***
I STARED AT THE SPREADSHEET in front of me. What had I been doing again?
My body was at work, but my mind was far away, busy with a daydream where I was practicing what I would say to my mom when I got off of work. But before that, I’d been trying to find some piece of information.
Around me, the office was entirely empty, except for one or two people I didn’t know very well. On any other day of the year, there would be the chatter of coworkers mingling and talking instead of getting their actual work done. I would’ve never guessed it, but it seemed the constant hum of other people’s energy was actually helpful in my productivity.
That revelation did nothing to help my current inability to focus.
I leaned back into my chair and ran my hands over my tired face. I wasn’t even sure why I bothered coming into work today. Most of the office had used their vacation time to give themselves a few extra days off before the company went into hibernation until the new year. I should’ve done the same. But then what would I do alone at home in my apartment? Might as well come in to work and get paid and save the vacation hours for something more interesting.
I should’ve planned an actual vacation somewhere. Then I would already have an excuse for Mom, and I wouldn’t be staring at pointless numbers as time slowly ticked by.
There was a firm knock on the nearby wall. Glancing back, my eyes trailed up a narrow waist, up broad shoulders and chest muscles so defined it stretched the fabric over them, and finally to the handsome face of Adam. Adam was my co-worker, his desk neighborhood mine. Typically, he was at my desk first thing in the morning rattling off about his week, so I’d assumed he wasn’t coming in today since this was my first time seeing him and it was almost noon.
But here he was, distractingly handsome, cruelly straight, and holding out a box of donuts with a grin on his face. I’d had a crush on him for years before I’d finally found some self respect given up on that fantasy. But sometimes when he smiled that endearing smile, butterflies long dormant stirred in my stomach. That and trying to control my thoughts around him could make working with the guy a genuine struggle.
But, I thought as my eyes slid over his form appreciatively; it was a struggle worth enduring. Even if it required me to hear about his string of girlfriends. That part I could’ve done without.
“There’s no way you’ve touched a donut in years,” I said, taking one anyway and setting it down on a napkin on my desk.
“I’ll have you know I’ve already had three this morning,” Adam said, taking a bite of a fourth. “Got 'em for everyone since I was already running late. Forgot that 'alf the office would be out.”
“Yep, everyone’s got plans,” I muttered under my breath, clicking through a few tabs on my computer. Adam was chronically late, but also immensely charming, so it was rare that anyone ever said anything to him about his tardiness. As long as he completed his work, no one cared.
“Speaking of,” Adam said, pulling up a chair, his knee brushing up against my leg. “What are you planning to do for the holidays?”
“My mother wants me to come see her and my family for the entire week. But I’d rather drive finishing nails into my eyeballs.”
“That bad, huh?”
“They’re fine. Just typical small-town republican types. Their stance on me being gay is; ‘we don’t hate you just what you do.’ As if that ever made any sense, or they should even have any opinions.”
Adam chewed his donut ponderously.
“Anyway, my mom just wants me to ignore all the microaggressions that get flung at me in the name of family. It’s stupid. But I was stupid enough to tell her I would be off next week, so...” I stopped typing with a final angry click.
I looked over at Adam, who was still ridiculously handsome even with flecks of donut glaze around his mouth. A strand of his dark hair had fallen down to partially cover one of his blue-green eyes. He was clearly listening, even if all I had been doing was complaining.
“Sorry I’m whining,” I said. “I should be grateful my conservative family didn’t disown me when they discovered who I was.”
“Where’d’you hear that?” Adam said he grabbed a napkin from my desk and wiped his face off. “Being forced to spend time with people opposed to your existence isn’t any better.”
“You are so wise,” I said with only a touch of sarcasm. With a look down at the donut, I gave in and took a bite. “What about you?” I asked with a full mouth. “What are your holiday plans?”
Adam shrugged. “Don’t have any. My family is going on a cruise, but that’s not my thing. I’m not the biggest fan of deep water.”
“Jaws fucked you up as a kid too, huh?”
“Sharks I can handle,” Adam said. “But I have a realistic fear of hitting an iceberg.”
“Where is this cruise going?”
“The bahamas.”
I blinked at him. “Somehow I think you’d be fine there.”
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Adam nudged me with his elbow and laughed.
His laugh was infectious. It was part of why people liked him. And for some reason, he liked hanging out with me. He was my best friend at the office, and he was always feeding me, talking to me about movies or shows, and inviting me to hang out. With my past feelings for him, I’m not sure how I made it all these years without slipping up and trying to make a move. Part of me wondered if he’d even care if I did. He’d probably just give me a polite “no thanks” and then we’d be fine.
Not that I was willing to test out that theory.
“You know if you want I can always tag along with you to your family’s,” Adam said with a mischievous grin that I didn’t trust. “I could be a buffer between you and the crazy.”
“I would never ask you to do that,” I said. “Besides, they’d think we’re dating no matter what I said anyway.”
“So?” Adam said, his smile broadening. “We know the truth and it’ll be fun to see ignorant people squirm a bit.”
He had a point, but I still wasn’t sure.
“Come on,” he pressed further. “It’ll be fun.”
I sat there thinking it over. For the second time that day I found myself incapable of coming up with an adequate excuse. If I was being honest with myself, the odds of me getting out of going to my parents’ were close to zero. With Adam’s suggestion, my prospects went from being miserable at my family’s alone to being miserable at my family’s with the company of a friendly face.
It wasn’t much of a choice at all when it came down to it.
“Fine,” I said, already stressing about my mom’s reaction to seeing Adam walking up to their house with me. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Adam said, beaming. “What time should I be ready?”