Preston
The time had come to live my life openly. The first thing I needed to do was have 'the talk' with my parents. I'd heard enough horror stories to know that I'd remember this very special conversation as long as I lived. I'd planned it for weeks, rehearsing every argument and every situation.
In the process, I came to a startling conclusion. When a gay person confronts their parents, they've usually had time to prepare. Parents, on the other hand, are usually broadsided. Judging them for the rest of your life by the ten minutes after their sensory assault is hardly fair.
I made an appointment to meet them both for dinner. I'd planned to take them to a restaurant, but mom insisted on cooking fried chicken for me. She knew it was my favorite and I was touched by the gesture. The following Friday I jumped in my car and headed over there. I'd expected to be terrified, but my newfound courage reduced my terror to nervousness.
I arrived and parked my car on the street for an easy getaway. I didn't want to have to back up if it came to that. The events of the evening were fairly normal for a visit home. We ate at the kitchen table which was something we usually did only with company. It was the first time I realized that I was company.
Mom showed me the new craft room she made from my old bedroom. The old computer games and awards had been packed away and stored in the garage, awaiting my first real home. I made a mental note that it was time to move them.
At the end of the evening we went through our customary goodbyes and before turning to walk toward the door I asked them, "What are you doing two days from now, on Sunday."
When they told me they'd likely be home I said, "Okay, I'd like to come back about two in the afternoon. It's kind of important. You see, I'm about to tell you something, but I don't want your opinion until Sunday."
"Why Sunday?" Mom asked with some concern in her voice.
"I want you to have some time to think it over. I want you to sleep on it and have time to discuss it between you before you comment. I'll return at two on Sunday and we can talk. You see, I'm gay. I always have been, and I always will be. Sometimes parents say things that their children misconstrue or things they don't mean. It isn't fair to pressure you to comment now. I've planned this, but you haven't."
My father started to say something, and I raised my hand to silence him. "Not now. We'll talk Sunday. In the meantime, I'll say goodnight."
Kissing them both, I left and headed across the lawn for expediency. I got in my car, and headed home.
The next two days felt more like a week. The phone rang, but when I saw who it was from I let it ring. The message button kept blinking, but I just let it blink. My mind played tricks on me, making me wonder whether the calls were to let me know that there had been an emergency and they couldn't meet Sunday.
At two o'clock I knocked at their front door. My mother was already standing on the other side. When the door swung open she threw her arms around me and scolded me. "Don't… you… ever give me two days to tell you how much I love you again."
Dad was right behind her and said, "Son, I've suspected for some time. It's always been okay. I only suspected because you never really dated. I love you, son. We're both on board."
Mom pulled me into the house and fed me for the next few hours. I told them about Kyle and showed them pictures. I thought it best to avoid explaining the specifics of our relationship. I showed them Dexter's pictures, telling them that he was my best friend. Under the circumstances I thought they needed some time before they learned more about Dexter. I hoped that eventually they'd figure it out if everything worked the way I suspected it would. Couples don't keep roommates forever, and I imagined that it might be years before they suspected anything if they ever did.
I took a moment to make a call to Kyle. He was going to call everyone else for me. My friends were all on call for sympathy duty.
When I arrived home, everyone was there. We were going to have a coming out party. I was already full, but Dexter had set the table and bowls of food were set out for everyone to help themselves from.
I thought about how I'd placed a gag order on my parents. I'd never know what their initial reaction might have been or how I might have taken their words in my vulnerable state, but that was just the way I wanted it.