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26

 

I walked out of the morning interview all smiles. I was offered a job. A job! I didn't accept right away because I still had an interview with the station tomorrow, but I told them I would let them know Wednesday morning. I was offered a job!

I called Mike and Lance. Both were happy for me.

I drove over to the university to give Robert the key to the house. I told him how much we enjoyed it. I opened up my phone and showed him a picture of Mike and me, making sure I showed him an appropriate one.

"Oh. He looks older than you, Trent."

"Right. I told you he wasn't attending W. Travis. I've known him for several years. He helped me accept who I am. We got to know each other even better over the weekend. It was a phenomenal time for us, and we can't thank you enough."

"Well," he said. "Good."

I could tell he was thrown by the age difference, but Robert had done this for years, so I'm sure he has seen everything. He was also thrilled to hear I had received a job offer.

I met Matt and Ali for lunch. They were excited about my job offer. I told them how amazing our weekend had been at the lake.

"I'm so glad you guys are doing great," Ali said. "I'm really happy for you. So. Was it romantic at the lake?"

"Well. Yes. I'm sure you don't want to hear the details, but we did indeed have a romantic weekend."

"Right. No details," said Matt.

"Matt!" scolded Ali. "So how was the sex?"

"DON'T need to know the details..." said Matt.

"He's right, Ali. You wouldn't want to share your intimate details with me, right?"

"Eh. We're an open book; what do you want to know?"

"I really don't need to know the details," said Matt.

"I thought you were okay with Mike and me," I said to Matt.

"I ... am. Really, I am happy you are happy. But. Just like hearing about your own parents having sex ..."

"Auuugh!" the three of us screamed.

"... I'm really not needing the guy-on-guy images in my head. Let's talk about something else."

I winked at Ali. Then I mouthed the words: "Totally amazing."

 

—

 

Back at home — and that drive was getting old — I enjoyed playing the piano for a couple hours. Having been offered a job made it seem even more joyous.

Mom got home first, and she was thrilled at my news. I asked Mom for Robert's address so I could write him a thank you note. I still had a few left from graduation. I stamped it and took it to the car.

Dad arrived as Mom was fixing dinner. He, too, was excited to hear about the job offer. He went in to change clothes and I turned on the news.

He grabbed the morning newspaper to do the crossword puzzle and sat in the loveseat adjacent to the couch I was sitting on.

The news had teased the upcoming weather forecast and a sports story. After some reports on the latest break-in and apartment fire, a story came on about the Pride Parade. It was fairly lengthy as they interviewed the mayor and several people who had been there.

Dad got up to grab the remote and turned off the television.

"Uh. Hello? I was watching that!" I remarked.

"Not that. You don't want to watch that," he said. "We don't need all that in the house."

I was instantly pissed. Not afraid. Not timid. Just pissed.

"All that?"

"You know."

"No, Dad. I don't know. Explain it to me."

"Those people. I don't know why they feel all this pride."

"Those people??"

"Those are the type of people we would not associate with."

I stood up.

"Why would we not be friendly to someone who is gay? Why would anyone choose to not accept someone for who they are??!!"

"Those people ..."

"Gay people."

"... okay, gay people ... can choose to live a normal life if they wanted to."

"So, you are saying that gay people aren't normal??"

"Son ..."

"If so, you are saying I'm not normal. I'm gay, Dad. I know you don't want me to be, but I am. Are you saying I'm not normal? That I'm somehow broken?!"

There. I said it. It was out. I couldn't take it back. Dad had heard it.

"Son, you are not gay. You might think ..."

"Yes, Dad! I am!"

"You're just going through ..."

"I'm gay, Dad. I didn't really want to tell you exactly like this — in an argument — but, you need to know. I am. I'm actually in a relationship. I am seriously in love with him."

"You might think you are ..."

"And how could you possibly know what I think??! If you want to know the truth, I spent a wonderful weekend with him at the lake house."

"You took a ... gay man ... to Robert and Sharon's lake house!!? Those two are lifelong friends!"

"And they still are. What's that got to do with anything?"

"I can't believe you did something so rash!"

"What rash? We had it planned for a couple weeks. Robert knew. He offered me the house."

"I can't believe you did that to us. To our family!"

"Well, thanks a lot, Dad! Thanks for believing in your own son!"

I started to storm off to my room. Mom entered the living room.

"What's going on? Why am I hearing screaming?"

I slammed the door. I started stuffing some clothes into an overnight bag. My pulse pounded. I had to get out. I wasn't staying here. It only took three minutes to make sure I had what I needed for a few days. I grabbed the bag and re-entered the living room heading toward the front door.

"Trent, dear. What are you doing? Where are you going?" Mom asked.

"I don't know. Somewhere. Maybe to a place where people actually love me."

"Dear, dinner is just about ready. Why don't you ..."

"I'm fine starving, Mother!"

I slammed the front door and got in the car. Out on the open road, a dozen conversations were being spoken through my head. My eyes had welled up so much I tried to wipe them with my shirt sleeve. I was doing a lousy job as a tear would roll down my cheek every now and then.

My heart was pounding. My blood was surging to where I could feel it. I was angry, but also confused. I was bitter, but also scared.

I called Mike.

"Well, hello you."

"Hi." I stammered. "Um ... c-c-can I come over for the night?"

"Uhhh ... sure. I just saw you yesterday. I thought you were back home."

"I can't stay there!"

His voice immediately changed. He instantly had picked up on the quiver in my voice.

"Trent, what is it!? What happened? What's wrong?"

"I ... I ..."

"Are you okay?"

"I just need to see you. I'll be there in 35 minutes."

I didn't feel like reliving the whole argument over the phone. A few minutes later I called Lance.

"Hey there again. Let me guess. A second job offer?"

"Uhh ... Lance. No. I'm on my way back to Jackson Bend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I ... came out to Dad. It didn't go well."

"Buddy, are you okay?"

"No. I'm kind of a mess. I'm headed to Mike's place."

"I'll meet you there. I want to see you."

Lance was only a few minutes away, so he beat me to Mike's house by several minutes. Both of them greeted me with a warm embrace when I arrived.

I went through how the conversation went down. It seemed like it lasted forever as I lived through it, but the whole argument was only a couple of minutes. As I told it, Mike held me. I tried my hardest not to cry, but I teared up a moment or two. Mike held me tighter.

They were supportive but had no real answers to my problem. They listened. I imagine that was what I needed.

"I can't possibly live there, not with ... him! Not with ... that!"

Mike started to say something, but Lance interrupted.

"Evan doesn't come for a few weeks. Why don't you stay at my apartment for a couple of weeks until you find a place of your own?"

I'm sure Mike would have told me I was welcome to be there, but Lance's suggestion made more sense. This would have been a horrible way for me to move in with Mike. I didn't want to arrive with all types of baggage.

They called for a pizza to be delivered. I didn't eat any, but I encouraged them to, of course. Lance grabbed a beer out of Mike's fridge. I drank water.

The three of us didn't talk a lot that night. Simple things. Short answers.

Lance stood to leave around 9:30.

"Meet me at my apartment at 5:30 tomorrow. I should be home around that time." He hugged me so hard. It felt good. "I love you, buddy. I'm here for you. Mike's here for you. You've got us. It will be okay. This is just temporary. It's a ... speedbump ... today, but not forever."

It's not like Lance to be so full of advice. I told him I loved him too.

I asked Mike if I could sit with the journal for a while. He said he'd be waiting for me in the bedroom.

I stared at the page. I wasn't sure what to write. I had so much anger, so much rage — and yet, so much uncertainty was hanging over all of it. It was writer's block.

 

June 8

Fuck Dad! Fuck Dad! Fuck Dad! Fuck Dad!

 

I drank some more water. The lights in the house were out. Only the light over the kitchen table was on. I sat at the kitchen table with my head held in my hands, just staring at the journal. I sighed at how horribly the day had shifted after it started out so great.

 

Well, it's over. Dad knows. Everyone knows now. And I know how he feels about it. What child wouldn't want to feel like his father was disappointed in him? Whoopee. Now I'm a failure. Now I'm broken. Now I'm a bad son.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's a bunch of shit to lay at Mike's feet too. It is not like we've been together for years. We're still early in this relationship. Now I have all this drama that he is going to get sucked into.

And what about Dad? Will I ever see him again? Are we done? I would hope not, but maybe we are? Who treats another person this way? Who treats their own son this way? I'm made from his fucking DNA. It's not like I went out and just randomly decided to be gay today. Fuck him! Fuck him for making me feel this way.

 

Before turning out the light, my phone buzzed. It was Mom. I guess she assumed I wasn't coming home.

"Please tell me you are someplace safe."

"I'm safe," I offered. Nothing more.

Nothing from Dad. Nothing about Dad. I'm sure Mom wasn't having an easy night, but I wasn't going to take the weight of that on. That was all on them.

I turned out the light and went into the bedroom. It wasn't really late, but Mike was in bed. He had the volume of the television turned low. He was waiting for me.

I had toiletry things already here, so I grabbed my toothbrush.

It was weird with everything being so quiet. I got undressed and slid into the sheets. Mike's arms reached out to hold me.

The news had an abbreviated clip of the Pride Parade. I sunk deeper into Mike's body.

"Does it help to say, `I love you'?"

"It means everything," I softly returned. "I am so sorry you got dragged into all this shit."

"That's what being in love is all about. Hard times come with the good. I'm in this. I'm here for you."

He turned off the television. I gave him a simple kiss. As I snuggled in his embrace, I tried my hardest not to cry. My eyes welled up enough that I knew a few tears hit the pillow. I squeezed my eyelids tightly trying to keep anything further within. I figured I wouldn't be able to fall asleep at all. Perhaps I was emotionally exhausted. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep in Mike's arms.

 

—

 

Mike was in his robe, sitting up in bed. He had a mug of coffee in his hand and was watching the news with closed caption on and the volume muted. I think it was the smell of coffee that caused me to awaken.

"Good morning, J.T." he softly said, as I turned over to find him sitting there.

I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about the lake house nickname. It was hot at the lake house, almost like some sort of role play. Hearing it right now immediately made me think he cared. That felt good.

"What time is your interview?" he asked.

"10 o'clock," I said, or rather, sort of mumbled.

"Well, it's 8:30. Let's start getting you ready."

I sat up. I rubbed sleep out of my eyes. It was too soon to formulate thoughts. I stumbled out of the bed and went to the bathroom to pee. As I did so, the bulk of yesterday's events trickled in. It wasn't a wave, just streams ... creeks ... of things from yesterday. Job offer. Argument. Yelling. Lance. Mike. Pride parades. By the time my bladder emptied, the memories gelled. Fuck.

I slowly walked back into the bedroom. Mike sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at me. I stopped in my tracks in front of him. I stood there naked. On the outside and on the inside. This man was seeing the whole me. Everything that came with being burdened with me.

He held out his arms. I walked into them. He held my lower body and pressed his face into my abdomen.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know. Am I better? No. Is the shock gone? Maybe a little. I'm sure this is what it feels like when someone dies. The next day isn't as horrible, only just regular horrible."

He squeezed me tighter.

"You didn't eat anything last night. Let's get some breakfast in you."

I pulled up yesterday's boxers. As I walked out to the kitchen, I saw Mike had a plate prepared for me. It was a nice selection of sliced fruit, a bowl of granola and some thinly sliced turkey and cheese on some Triscuits. What a sweet man. He poured me a cup of coffee as I sat down in front of this plate.

"Thank you," I said softly. "Are you not eating anything?"

"I have. I piddled while I let you sleep."

"This is nice," I said, reaching for a fork.

Mike got a carton of milk from the fridge for the granola.

"Today is just a day you have to get through. And probably tomorrow. And the next. But you will. And slowly, things will work their way into being what they need to be."

"Perhaps."

I muddled through the meal. It was all fine. Actually, tasty. I just felt sapped of any energy, any enthusiasm to do anything.

Mike looked at me. He made me return his gaze.

"Okay. For right now, just for now, let's focus on your interview. All these other things will be there when we want to deal with them. But for now, you've got something to do. Let's do it. In fact, let's be brilliant. Nothing will make you feel better than nailing this interview."

I said nothing. I just looked back.

"Are you an adult, Trent?"

I looked confused. "What?"

"Are you an adult?"

"Yeah."

"Then handling this like an adult will make you feel magnificent. You are handling your life. Not your parents, not me, you. You have the control. You will do your damn best to rock this interview. You will walk in and make it clear they have no choice but to be impressed with you. You will make your destiny."

I gave him a weak smile. "'k."

I kissed him lightly on the lips and walked to the bathroom. I started the shower. As it turned out, the shower was somewhat rejuvenating. I wasn't by any means happy, but I was out of the cobwebs I had been in.

Minutes later, I stood there shaving. Mike stood behind me. The back of his hand caressed my right butt cheek. It wasn't sexual. It was caring, tender.

"You have a suit here. Did you wear that one to your first interview?

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's not wear the same thing. What else do you have here. Slacks?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Good. We'll go in with a tie. If you want, you can see if a sport coat I have fits you well enough."

At 9:30, I was ready to leave. I looked sharp. I opted for just shirt and tie, no jacket. But I looked professional.

"You're so handsome," Mike told me.

I smiled. I looked back at the mirror.

"Do you think you'll like this job?"

"Actually, I do."

"Perfect. Go get it."

Mike gave me a big kiss at the door. I hugged him.

"Carpe diem, babe. I'll be here when you're done."

I got in the car. I had plenty of time to get there. I didn't want to just be on time, I wanted to be early. I found a space to park and walked in. I made sure to be polite and friendly with the secretary.

 

—

 

I called Mike 90 minutes later.

"On my way there. I got offered the job!"

Mike wasn't on speaker, but the phone sounded like it.

Fifteen minutes later I walked into the house. Mike hugged me. He actually hugged me, picked me up and whirled me around.

"I knew it! You are amazing. I knew they would want you."

I smiled. It was actually the first real smile on my face in the past 18 hours.

"Now I just have to pick."

"Talk to me. What are the pros and cons of each?"

"If I take the newspaper, I start immediately. If I call tomorrow, I start Thursday. If I take the station, I will start next week."

"Salary?"

"The newspaper would pay two thousand more a year."

"Really? Okay."

"Yeah. A bit more responsibility. Lots of proofreading, layout, and a bit of production."

"And the station?"

"It's an assistant producer. I'd be lining up the stories for the on-air talent, fielding calls, and I'd have to learn some technical work. I think I would be able to do a little writing too."

"So how do you feel? What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure. Is it crazy to want the lower-paying job?"

"Tell me more," Mike said.

"I think I'd enjoy the work more. It would challenge me. Plus, I think the newspaper job would be what it is ... forever. At the station, I could see me moving up ... like there is room for advancement."

"Sounds like you've thought this through some."

"Yeah." I paused. "But am I dumb to take a lower salary? I mean, I'm not going to buy a mansion with either one. But my heart says to take the station."

"It sounds like your mind is made up. I'm so proud of you."

We went out for lunch. I had been wanting to get to Thai Me Down; this was the occasion. After we ordered, I thought I should call Lance.

"Fuck yeah!!" both of us could hear through the phone. I talked for a moment, but the food arrived. I told him I would see him this afternoon.

Lunch was wonderful. I felt great. It's not like I had forgotten the day before, but it was placed to the side. It wasn't overbearing at the moment. It would be there to deal with. But it now felt like when I decide to deal with it.

"Are you going to let your parents know?" Mike finally asked.

"I guess I should."

I texted Mom, and then picked up my chopsticks to finish lunch. The phone buzzed. I didn't look. The two of us finished and both agreed we needed to come here more often. Maybe the job proposal made everything more delicious, but we both really liked it.

I looked at Mom's text.

"That's wonderful news. I'm proud of you. Will you be coming home tonight?"

"No."

I offered nothing further and set the phone down.

A few minutes later, Mike turned the conversation to Lance.

"How do you feel about staying with Lance for a couple weeks?"

"Well. It's free. So that says something. I mean, I'll contribute food for sure. I'll pitch in for utilities. I don't have a lot of money, but if I take my graduation money, I should be able to put down first month's rent by the end of the month and then I'll start getting a paycheck."

"If you need help, I'm not rolling in dough, but I can loan you some."

"Thanks, but I absolutely don't want to involve money between us. I already feel like I owe you too much."

"Like what?"

"You pay for meals more than I do."

"Oh, please. That's nothing. That's what people do when they are dating."

"When a guy dates a girl, but not two guys."

Mike waved the argument away with his hand.

"Anyway, I do worry about Lance's drinking, but if I'm there, maybe that's a good thing," I said.

"As long as he doesn't climb into bed with you."

"I'll keep him at arm's length."

Mike didn't respond to my comment. He looked down at the table long enough for me to notice the silence.

"Mike?"

"I feel we should talk."

Yikes. That sounded foreboding. I didn't say anything, but my eyes must have conveyed, "Okay."

"When Lance offered his place, you jumped right on it."

"Well, it was a solution. I can't stay at home. I just can't."

"Okay, but ..."

"And I was worried that you would feel obligated to ask me to move in. We both have agreed that's too soon."

"Fair enough." Mike was silent again. He looked out the window. Without glancing my direction, he began again. "You shared with me that while we put things on pause, the two of you slept together."

"I'm sorry, Mike. You felt I needed to know I was sure I wanted you. To say I needed that out of my system so that I knew I really wanted you sounds so lame. I get it. But it won't happen again, I swear."

"I believe you. Well, I trust you." He looked back at me. "But I don't trust him. I like Lance, don't get me wrong. You two have a close friendship I am almost jealous of. But he has feelings for you. He's denying them, but we both know they are there. He is drinking a lot. It is easy to fall to temptation. What if after a few drinks he wants something from you. What if he expects it for giving you a place to stay."

"He won't. I won't let it happen. I'm yours, Mike. I swear. I'm in love with you, and I won't jeopardize it. Please believe me."

"I do. My heart belongs to you." His eyes were piercing mine. "It would kill me if you slept with him again, though. I want us to be firmly committed."

"I totally agree. All I want is us."

He reached for my hand. His serious look worked itself into the slightest of smiles. It wasn't unreasonable for him to have concerns. I knew I could live up to them. Lance would too. Hopefully. Maybe. I would make him live up to them.

"It's only for two or three weeks," I said. "I won't be there long."

"Want me to look online for some places of your own?"

"If you want," I said. "I'll probably do the same. Maybe something halfway between work and your place."

 

June 9

Today was better. The second job offer lifted my spirits. Thank God! Home still sucks, but I'm not thinking about that. Not now. That can come later.

Man! I'm not on my own yet, but I actually feel like I'm on my way. Staying with Lance a few weeks should be fun too. Wow. I'm in the "real world" as they say. Or about to be. Mike is concerned though. I'll show him I am totally trustworthy.

 

I worked on my play script for an hour. I think the anger and frustration of yesterday fueled some energy and plotlines. I think I had my characters defined. Now I just had to take them on their journey. Working on this probably helped me deal with things. A little.

"So, will you get more things from home I assume?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. Both Mom and Dad will be out tomorrow, so I'll duck in, get a few boxes worth of stuff to live on while at Lance's."

Mike went to the garage to get me a few boxes he had there. Perhaps I could find a few more, either leftover from Lance or at home.

I stood in Mike's doorway.

"I love you. Thank you for everything," I told him as his arms were wrapped around me.

"I love you, babe. Proud of you. Call me tonight."

He waved to me as I opened the car door.

"Give my best to Lance."

As I drove away, it donned on me that we didn't even attempt to have sex. Maybe he thought I was still in a fragile place. Or maybe it just wasn't important. I have my whole life to have sex. Soon I'll have a place of my own.

I beat Lance home. He arrived a few minutes late.

We weren't one foot in the door before he crushed me in a bear hug.

"I am so glad we will be roommates, even if it is only a couple weeks," he said. "This will be awesome."

"Thank you for this offer. It helps so much."

"I will always have your back."

"It's your place, but I'll make you a promise. You don't pressure me for sex, I won't pressure you about your drinking."

"Spoilsport," he smiled.

I rubbed his belly. That told him enough. Lance had gained close to 20 pounds since the end of basketball season.

He gave me a quick kiss and then headed into the kitchen to talk about dinner. He had something in mind. I wasn't following his dish idea, but it appears he had made an effort to have something for us.

It was okay. Not phenomenal, but not bad. He was kind to go to this effort. I noticed the fridge was also stocked with Diet Coke. Lance didn't drink coffee, but he had purchased some instant coffee for me since he didn't own a coffee maker.

"I want to ask Mike over for dinner Saturday. You guys were so great to help with the move and then ask me over to grill burgers. Do you think he would come?"

"I'm sure he would be delighted."

We stayed up fairly late talking about jobs, his and mine. It felt like college again. I loved us being together. As friends. Even if it was only for a short time. He was on his third beer. I was just drinking water. I talked about home a little. I had been avoiding thinking about it, but I knew I had to face it eventually. Lance helped me work through some of my feelings, but more than anything else, he listened. That really was one of his best traits. We became close these past few months by listening to each other. I asked what time he needed to be in tomorrow. We guessed we should call it a night.

"I have a second set of sheets. They are older ones, but still doable. And clean," Lance said, reaching into a closet.

"Thanks for having my back," I said.

"I'm glad you're here, buddy."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek goodnight.

I went into my, ... well, Evan's bedroom, and made my bed.

 

* * * *

 

Thoughts on the story? Comment about Trent's situation or your own situation in coming out to parents at timothylane414stories.blogspot.com