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As Jamie’s plane landed in Dublin, he was aware he had put off having a conversation with his parents about his relationships for far too long. He had justified it, at first, by telling himself that since he’d come out to them as bi when he was fourteen, he’d earned some secret-keeping by now. But ever since the fight with Callum and Nerea and the agreements they’d come to in its aftermath, he knew he had to tell them sooner or later. Preferably, sooner. But just because telling his parents was the right thing to do, didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified. Jamie being queer was one thing. His mum had always been relatively easy with it, and his dad had wanted him to be happy and as safe as possible. But being bi, and dating a married couple who were both twice his age, were on two very different ends of the Things His Parents Would be Okay With spectrum.
But his parents loved him, and it would be fine. Which Jamie repeated to himself as he waited at the baggage claim for his suitcase. It was going to be fine.
* * *
THINGS AT HOME WERE not fine.
His dad picked him up from the airport and drove to the house with a set to his jaw Jamie didn’t know how to interpret. Jamie wondered if his parents had already heard about Callum and Nerea; he just had no idea how. There had been no buzz on the internet or in tabloids about Jamie appearing at Nerea’s gallery opening. He had checked.
But, he realized as soon as he stepped inside the house, whatever was going on had nothing to do with him. His mother greeted him with a hug, but she was clearly distracted. In the kitchen Aoife was at the counter, red-eyed and drying dishes with a mutinous expression on her face.
Aoife hugged Jamie fiercely. Jamie held her tight and looked over her shoulder to where their parents stood in the doorway, watching them and looking worried.
“What is going on?” Jamie said to Aoife.
“Patrick and I want to move in together,” she said, stepping back and scrubbing a hand over her face.
“And that’s a problem why?” Jamie asked.
“Ask them,” Aoife said. “Or listen to the voicemails I left you. You never called me back.”
“How about we all sit down,” their mother suggested. “Jamie, do you want some coffee? Anyone else?”
Five minutes later, seated all around the living room and fortified with coffee, Jamie demanded again of his parents why Aoife wanting to move in with her boyfriend was a problem. All worries about his own troubles and confessions he needed to make were gone in the face of his sister’s situation. He had no idea why his parents would object. Aoife and Patrick had been together for years. Hugh and Maureen were Catholic, sure, but had always worried more about good sense and kindness than any adherence to doctrine. And Beth had lived with her husband for six months before they’d gotten married. Though they’d been engaged at the time.
“She’s — You’re so young, Aoife,” his mother said.
“I’m twenty-two. You were married when you were twenty-two,” Aoife pointed out.
It was clear they’d had this argument many times. Jamie felt like an absolute prick that he hadn’t returned Aoife’s calls or even listened to her voicemails. He’d assumed if it was really important she would have texted or emailed to remind him.
“I know this has nothing to do with me being young,” Aoife said.
And there it was. Jamie looked at his parents, who looked worried but resolute. And who were saying nothing.
“Are you telling me,” Jamie said, “that you don’t want Aoife to have a relationship with someone she loves because she has Down Syndrome?”
“Patrick and I both do, thank you,” Aoife added.
“What I am telling you — and Aoife,” his mother said, “is that we live in Ireland, and while there are resources available to help you live independently, I’m afraid you and Patrick won’t be allowed to live together unless you’re married.”
“We’re getting married,” Aoife said in a tone that suggested she had said it many times before. But the whole room seemed to still. Apparently Jamie’s parents had not heard this before this moment.
“I’m sorry, what?” their father said.
“We’re getting married,” Aoife repeated, sitting up straighter. “So we can live together. We’ve found a residential services community we like. We can go on the waiting list. We’ll move in after the wedding.”
Again, silence, as everyone absorbed this.
Maureen was the first to speak. “Why couldn’t you have told me this in the right order? Because there are still things we should talk about, but this makes everything very different. And you need to be sure.”
“That’s what married is,” Aoife said, “Being sure. We thought you’d be most upset about moving. And I wanted Jamie to be home to share,” Aoife said with a sidelong, almost shy glance at Jamie. “But then we started arguing again.”
“Congratulations,” Jamie said and stood up from his seat to walk around the table to hug Aoife. Someone had to stop being shocked and say what was right.
“Yes, yes, congratulations,” his mum said, and then she and his dad were standing up to join in the hug too. It was a bit awkward, and not just because there were four of them, but because it felt like his parents still weren’t certain. But it was probably a lot for them to get used to. Jamie would call them on it if he needed to, but there was no reason to do so in front of Aoife.
“You’re going to have an awesome wedding, right?” Jamie asked when they all pulled apart. Although that was as much to make a point to his parents as it was to find out what Aoife wanted. “Because you should have a wedding just like Beth’s and Mary’s. If you like, of course.”
Aoife, delighted now that the worst was over, laughed and stamped her feet with joy. “Yes!” she exclaimed, drawing the word out so that it felt like more than one syllable and wandered through several pitches. “But first I need to get the ring.”
“Bring Patrick round this week,” his dad said. “We should talk with him and with his parents.”
“Whoa. What?” Jamie turned to him. “You can’t treat Aoife like a kid. Especially not now she’s engaged. Why do you have to talk to her fiancé’s parents?”
Hugh looked amused. “Because that’s how it works. When two people get engaged, their parents get together to talk about their children and the wedding. Not that you’d know that, Jamie-boy.”
Jamie flushed harder than was warranted by the comment alone. Now he was the only one of his siblings not engaged or married. And if he stayed with Callum and Nerea, that situation was never going to change.
He loved Callum and Nerea, and he loved his parents and his sisters, but as he watched his mother — nervous and grateful and surprised — hug Aoife again, he couldn’t help but mourn the fact that he might well never share a moment like this with his family.
* * *
THE NEXT NIGHT JAMIE went out to dinner with Aoife and Patrick, where he apologized to both of them for blowing off Aoife’s phone calls. He might not have been able to help in any particular way, but he could at least have been an ally to them both while Aoife had worked through matters with their parents.
That evening, up in Jamie’s room at their parents’ house, the siblings talked for hours. About Aoife’s plans for the wedding, but mostly for the life she wanted to build outside of the house she’d lived in her entire life and that their parents had probably thought she would never leave. The transition was going to be immense for all concerned and was going to take time. Now that Aoife had decided, Jamie wasn’t clear on how patient she was inclined to be. They were alike in that. They were both a little greedy for all the world could give them, no matter how strange, no matter other people’s doubts.
“Can I tell you about something?” Jamie said to his sister after their mum had come in to say good night and admonish them, fondly, not to stay up too late.
“Yes?”
Jamie flopped back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. “So I told you I’m seeing someone.”
“Yeah, even though you refuse to give me any details.”
“The someone I’m seeing is actually two people.”
“And they don’t know about each other?” she guessed.
“No. They’re married. To each other,” Jamie clarified.
“But they don’t know you’re dating both of them?”
“Still no. I’m dating a married couple. Like. Jointly.”
“That seems confusing,” Aoife’s face twisted up as she said it. “Who are they?”
“Somebody I met at work. And his wife.”
The confusion in Aoife’s face turned to judgment. “Who, Jamie?” She was insistent.
“You know how I was in the movie with Callum Griffiths-Davies?”
Aoife started laughing and then didn’t stop.
Jamie sat up and waited for Aoife’s giggles to run their course. But they didn’t seem to be subsiding. Which, if he looked at the situation — both that of his relationships and of this conversation — he could hardly blame her for.
“You’re dating Callum Griffith-Davies. And his wife?” she finally managed through gasps of mirth.
“Yeah.”
“No, you’re not. You’re teasing me. Which isn’t nice.”
“I’m not,” Jamie said. He wouldn't. “I mean, I’m not teasing you. I really am dating them.”
Aoife pressed her hands over her mouth; the giggles starting again. Then she took a deep breath and very cautiously slid her hands to her cheeks so she could talk. “You’re dating Callum Griffith-Davies and his wife,” she repeated.
Jamie laughed. It was pretty funny to hear it aloud from an uninvolved person. “Yes.” Maybe if he was lucky his parents wouldn’t believe him either.
“Jamie. Oh my God.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
“Have you told Mum and Dad?”
“What do you think? Especially after the fit they threw about you and Patrick? How am I supposed to?”
“You should,” Aoife said, sobering. “If you’re serious.”
“Of course I’m serious! And they’re serious about me. Which is why I have this problem now.”
“A lot of people would like that problem. He’s hot. Mum’s going to go spare.” Aoife pointed out. Then she went starry-eyed. “Will you bring him to my wedding?”
Jamie dropped his head into his hands and moaned at what was a fair, generous, and likely deeply unwise request.
Aoife patted him unsympathetically on the shoulder.
* * *
JAMIE WAITED UNTIL the next evening to broach the topic. He was helping his mum wash the dishes while his dad was out of earshot in the living room watching the news. Aoife was at work. As much as he’d been glad to come to her defense the other day, he didn’t want her to have to come to his.
“So, er, I wasn’t sure how to bring this up,” Jamie said as he scrubbed water droplets from a plate with a towel his mother had had since he was a kid. “But I mentioned I’m seeing someone?”
“You’ve mentioned. In the vaguest possible terms,” his mother said. She looked amused. “Am I going to get details now?”
“Sort of,” Jamie said.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means they asked me to Spain for Christmas and for a wedding, and I said yes because they’re important to me, and I didn’t tell you before cause I knew you were going to be mad?”
“This is where you give me a name, Jamie,” his mother said after the briefest of hesitations. Jamie noted, with some alarm, that she’d set down the glass she was washing out.
“Callum,” Jamie practically squeaked.
His mother’s eyebrows went up. “Is this Callum, your coworker, Callum?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought he was married. I’ve seen her in magazines. Pretty Spanish woman.”
Jamie nodded. “He is. She is.”
“They’re separated? Getting a divorce?”
“Um. No.”
“James.” His mother looked horrified. Jamie shrank back. Nobody called him that, ever, except his mum, and only when he was in very, very deep trouble. “What are you telling me? Is he cheating on his wife with you?”
“No.” Jamie kept rubbing the towel over the plate, even though he’d dried it ages ago. “I’m dating her, too.”
He had wondered if his mum might yell. He decided the stunned silence that stretched on — and on — was far worse.
“I’m sorry, I think I misheard you,” Maureen finally said.
Jamie shook his head. “You didn’t or you’d be talking.”
More silence. Then she said, “This isn’t what we meant by equal opportunity.”
It wasn’t a joke, not really, and Jamie had to restrain a wild and inappropriate urge to laugh.
“It wasn’t like I planned it,” he said, knowing that wasn’t much of a defense against anything his mother could possibly be thinking. But he needed to stall for time as he looked for the right opening to explain. A petulant we’re in love was definitely not going to cut it.
“Clearly.”
“Look, I mean, I understand why it freaks you out — ”
“You do, do you?”
Jamie was dimly aware that she might be working up to that place where she enjoyed her outrage, which definitely wasn’t going to help his case.
“It’s not typical. It’s not what you expected for me — it’s not what I expected for me. But why does that matter?”
Maureen set a dish down on the counter with more force than was strictly necessary. Jamie flinched. “Which of my eight thousand objections would you like first? I’m perfectly happy to argue about bad translations and believe the Church is just wrong about homosexuality, but there aren’t exactly any three-person relationships lurking in the Bible — ”
“Not exactly true,” Jamie interjected.
“If you say The Holy Trinity, God help your soul.”
“That’s not what I was going to say!”
“Good. But there is a list available for this fight, and we should start somewhere.”
“Fine, what’s the list?” Jamie asked, even if he could tell he was irritating his mother even more by being reasonable.
“In no particular order: Age differences will break your heart; Hollywood decadence is a slippery slope toward a hell likely filled with Scientologists; they’re married to each other, which gives you no security; and two against one isn’t a game anybody wins.”
Jamie picked up another wet dish out of the strainer and concentrated on it. He was horribly afraid he was going to laugh at the accidental sexual innuendo of the last item on her list and was well aware that if he did, his mother would lose her mind.
“I bought a book,” he blurted, because it was better than laughing.
Maybe not that much better, he reflected, as his mother turned disbelieving eyes on him. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Callum’s reaction had been the same.
* * *
“JAMIE!” NEREA EXCLAIMED, when she picked up the Skype call. “We weren’t expecting you to call so early.”
“Are you in the middle of something?” Jamie asked somewhat helplessly. It didn’t look like they’d been in the middle of sex, but then, Jamie knew firsthand how well the two of them could put themselves back together in cases of unexpected interruption.
“No, no. We’re glad to see you. What’s going on?” Callum asked. He and Nerea were sitting in bed. From the lack of books or tablets scattered about, Jamie assumed they’d been watching a movie.
“Can you take me off the big screen?” He kept his voice low. His mother did not need to know he was making this call. Whatever confrontation she might eventually have with his lovers, Jamie was not up to today being the day that happened. “Callum’s right, it is really weird to have you look at me like that.”
“Of course, just a moment.” Callum reached for a remote.
The view on Jamie’s laptop changed to the couple sitting together, their faces both looking down at what he presumed was Callum’s tablet.
“What’s going on?” Callum asked.
Jamie hunched forward, not even able to relax in his own room. If he could have dived through the screen to be with them he would have. “I know I’m not supposed to come to Spain until next week, but would you mind if I came early?”
Callum and Nerea exchanged a look. “Of course not,” Nerea said. “How early?”
“Tomorrow?”
They exchanged another look.
“What’s happened, Jamie?” Nerea asked, her voice serious.
“Can I not talk about it right now?” Jamie had thought he’d be able to explain. But now that he had Callum and Nerea in front of him and also several hundred miles away, he was horribly afraid he was going to burst into tears. “I promise I’m okay; everything’s okay; I just need to see you.”
“You’re always welcome here,” he said, “but you’re giving us the one sentence version of what’s going on before you book a flight.”
“Callum,” Jamie whined. He couldn’t help it. It was the only manner of expression he could find that wasn’t going to make everything in his head and his parents’ house significantly worse.
“Like everyone else in this relationship, you are an equal until you don’t tell us what we need to know to be useful,” Callum said sternly.
“I told my parents,” Jamie blurted.
Nerea gave a little gasp and covered her mouth.
“How did that go?” Callum asked, even though Jamie thought the answer should have been apparent.
“With my mum, ’bout like that,” he said, pointing to Nerea on his screen. “With my dad, kind of worse.”