by Rowan Shaw
"Well, let us reach the stands, at least," Eve said as Ling's hand tightened around our daughter's.
"I'm big now. I don't need you to hold my hand," Wei protested.
"With this amount of people? I don't think so. I would put you on a leash if I could."
Wei pursed her lips, but her entire face lit up when she saw the first booth in sight, only for her mood to sour when she realized it was just a corporate one.
"We don't need information about your bank," she said a bit too loud as we passed in front of it. "I'm looking for stuff to buy, people."
Patrick bit his lip. He was a bit too amused by my daughter's antics, if you asked me. She didn't need to know she had an audience; it would only feed into her bad behavior.
"I really need the bathroom," Eve said when we made our way past a few more corporate booths, some of their vendors offering us rainbow fans to beat the heat.
Ling gave a nod. "Me too. Wei, do you want to come with us?"
"No, I'm staying here with Dad and Patrick. I need my flag."
I grabbed her hand and led her down the street while Eve and Ling left with a plan to text me when they were done. My grip squeezed Wei's hand harder, but she insisted to be in the middle so she could hold Patrick's hand as well. I sent him a quick look, but he didn't seem to mind.
"I thought you were past the age of holding hands," I teased.
"There's someone at school who called me a bad name last month because I have two moms," she replied. "If there are cameras here, I want her to see me holding your hands. I think she's just jealous because she only has one lousy mom and dad. She's a stupid..." A loud insult slipped out of her mouth.
"Where did you learn that word?" I asked, seconds away from grounding her.
"Pfff." She rolled her eyes. "I'm eleven now, Dad. I know lots of things I don't tell you about."
Another amused smile poked at Patrick's lips. Good for him that he found the situation so funny because I didn't.
"Don't let me hear that word from you again or—"
"It's here!" she screamed upon noticing a booth of pride flags. She pulled on our hands, then rudely elbowed people out of the way, forcing me to apologize to them. She was in for a serious discussion tonight. Ling may be lenient about certain things, but I definitely wasn't.
At the booth, I let her go and rejoined Patrick's side while Wei perused the tables.
He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. "I want to buy you a bi shirt," he said in my ear, speaking in French.
"Why?" I asked.
"So when we go places, people stop erasing you and assuming you're gay."
"It's not that much of a problem," I said, though it actually was.
"Maybe, but still."
"Dad, I found it," Wei exclaimed, waving a straight ally flag at me. She looked at the vendor and smiled. "I came out to my dad recently." The pride in her voice made me grin.
"Really?" the vendor replied and smiled back at her.
"Yep, I told him I was straight and everything."
The vendor's expression changed just slightly before he composed himself. "Dear, I don't think people can come out as straight."
"Well, I did. My mom and dad are bi. My second mom is a lesbian and my new dad is gay. So I had to come out, you know?"
I sent a quick glance at Patrick when she used the D word, but he didn't even flinch. He was laughing. For someone who claimed he didn't speak English, he sure picked up on a lot more than I'd surmised.
"If straight people come out too, then maybe one day, no one will ever have to come out again," Wei added, her chin raised.
The vendor's smile returned. "That was very brave of you, then. How did they react?"
"They said it was fine, and they love me as I am."
He gave me a quick look. "That's how it should be in all families, shouldn't it?" There was a touch of sorrow to his tone, but Wei didn't notice.
"So now I have two flags. But I only want to carry the ally flag today."
"Okay. Is that all you wanted?" the vendor asked. "I'm sure you're also allowed to buy a rainbow bracelet to show you support us."
"Well, I want a bi flag and a gay flag for my dads."
I didn't dare look at Patrick this time, but to my surprise, he still didn't correct her when she referred to him as "dad." I paid for the flags without a word and grabbed his hand while he took Wei's to walk further down, where we stopped at another booth so Patrick could buy me a shirt.
"T'aimes celui-là?" he asked, holding one up so I could see the pink, purple, and blue unicorn on the front.
"It's cute."
He was about to put it down and pick another one when someone tapped on my shoulder.
"Brandon, I knew it was you," a man with pale white skin and fiery red hair said as I turned to him.
I narrowed my eyes. I had no clue who he was.
"It's me, Justin. Remember? From the music store."
I froze and nodded. "Oh, hi, Justin."
His blue eyes geared toward Patrick, sizing him up without a greeting before his gaze fell to our intertwined hands and returned back to me. "I've been thinking about you. You should come to my gig tonight. It's free."
Patrick wasn't moving. His hand was tight around Wei's, his body tense.
"I'll think about it."
Justin sought his pocket for a flyer that he handed me. "It was so nice seeing you again. Tonight at nine."
With that, he looked straight at Patrick while kissing my cheek in a way that was more intimate than I was comfortable with. Without ever acknowledging my boyfriend, he winked at me and walked away. When I dared a glance at Patrick, his eyebrows were raised at me like question marks.
"Well, well, Justin seems to really like you."
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I don't want you to think there's anything to fear when you're not here."
He gave a genuine smile. "Brandon, you're the most handsome man I've ever met. I'm aware other people will try to flirt with you."
"I'm not fond of him," I explained, ill at ease when I realized Wei was staring at us.
"That's too bad. I was really looking forward to his concert," he replied sarcastically and snatched the flyer from my hand, laughing at the band's name.
"I've only met him once at that music store," I kept trying to explain. "I told him right away I had a boyfriend. I don't like that he didn't even bother greeting you."
"What do you want me to say?" Patrick didn't seem overly mad or jealous. He gave a nonchalant shrug like the guy's attitude was common sense. "He's one of those disrespectful ones."
Wei was still listening, her dark eyes shifting between the two of us.
"We can talk about this later," I said.
"Pas de problème, mon lapin." Patrick's lips curled into a tiny smile as he handed me a shirt that read Bi and Proud in the back with two bi-colored moon crescents on the front. "I'm buying you this one."
He went to the vendor and paid for the shirt without waiting for my opinion.
"I'm thirsty," Wei exclaimed as soon as he was done.
"There's a booth over there." I pointed at the red tarp with a large beverage sign.
Her hand slipped away from Patrick's, forcing us to chase her when she dashed through the crowd. We found her at the booth, already waiting in line. Scents of cooking meat and fries permeated the air of the food section, where I grabbed her hand firmly.
"Don't run away like that again."
"I would like a soda, please," she told the man behind the counter as if she hadn't heard me.
"Did you ask your dads?" the seller asked.
Wei knew she wasn't allowed to consume more than one can a day, and she'd already had her dose. I didn't need her to act even more erratically than she already did.
She turned to Patrick. "Je peux avoir un soda?"
Patrick looked at me, and I shook my head at him.
"Non, désolé, ma puce," he rep
lied, contrite that he had to deny her the drink she wanted.
Wei narrowed her eyes at him the same way she did with me when she wasn't happy, and she kept talking to him in French. "You're supposed to be the good dad, you know?'
Patrick burst out laughing. Unamused, Wei pursed her lips and turned back to the vendor, proceeding in English, "He's not used to being a dad yet, obviously. He's brand new at this."
Patrick kept chuckling while I closed my eyes, ready to call it quits for the day.
"I'll have a bottle of water, please," my daughter asked as Patrick sent me a look.
"Going to wear the bi shirt anytime soon?"
"Oh, you wanted me to wear it now?" I asked.
"Well, yes, of course."
"We need to find a place so I can change."
He snorted. "Brandon, there are guys here wearing nothing but thongs. I think you can take off your shirt for a second."
I didn't protest, though I changed as quickly as I could. It was awfully hot out; my forehead was pearling with sweat. Thankfully, this shirt was lighter than the one I was wearing. Patrick's naturally tanned skin had turned a darker shade since he'd arrived to New York too, his olive complexion heightening the striking color of his green eyes.
He smiled and dropped a quick peck on my lips as I handed him my other shirt so he could drop it in the plastic bag. Strangely, putting on this outfit made me feel stronger, more visible, happier.
"Are we going to the parade next?" Wei asked when my phone buzzed.
I took a quick look at it. Eve and Ling were coming back, walking down the street. I told them where we were, and we decided to visit a booth selling rainbow umbrellas and fans while waiting for them.
I checked the time. "The parade starts in an hour."
Wei gave a shrug. "Yes, but I want a front row seat."
"There are no seats, sweetheart."
"We can sit on the curb if we arrive early enough."
I didn't want to discourage her, but my guess was the place was probably packed already. In this sweltering heat, I was hoping to find some shade, whether it was close to the parade route or not. I was sweating buckets, and even the water we'd bought at the concession stand failed to quench my thirst.
I didn't want to disappoint Wei, though. Eve and Ling agreed with her that we couldn't let these outrageous temperatures keep us from enjoying the parade, so the five of us strolled the way we first came.
As expected, the location was overcrowded, but we managed to squeeze our way to a bench that was hidden from the sun by a bush. We weren't right next to the road, but I put my foot down when Wei whined about it. We waited an hour before the parade even started, and the rest of the day unfolded pretty much the same way. Wei was so tired when we were done, she slept on the subway. Ling carried her back home while I took Patrick back to my place.
"Thank you for a wonderful day," he said, pulling on my waist the instant we passed the threshold.
"Are you tired?"
He responded with a nibble to my earlobe. "Exhausted."
His teasing shot a delightful chill down my spine.
"Let's order pizza and watch a movie in bed," I suggested.
His smile expanded against my skin. "Let's do that."
Chapter 43
BRANDON
Patrick and I slept in late and almost missed the time I'd set to meet my mom at her place. She didn't know we were coming. It was a decision I'd made last night after Patrick and I spent the evening watching some American comedy dubbed in French. He'd fallen asleep against my shoulder, and I'd tucked him in, watching him snooze so peacefully.
I was nervous at the thought of taking him to my mom's house, and no comforting words would alleviate my fears. I was nearing a panic attack by the time we reached her front steps.
"Breathe," Patrick advised, grabbing my wrist before I could ring the doorbell. He grasped my waist and turned me toward him for a soft stroke to my cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
I took a deep breath, then another. "Yes, I need to. The time has come."
He gave a nod as I rang the doorbell. It didn't take long for Mom to open the door with a huge inviting smile and a tight hug that knocked the air right out of my lungs.
"Good morning, sweetheart. I wasn't expecting you today. Is everything all right?"
"Yes. I just thought I'd come by and say 'hi.'" The lump grew in my throat the more I tried to swallow it down.
Mom kept smiling as she turned to Patrick.
"Hi," she said, her eyes darting between him and me.
"This is Patrick. He came to visit all the way from France."
"You did? That's a very long flight just to come see a friend." There was something to her voice I couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was probably all in my head. There was no way she knew about us.
She led the way to her living room, where Patrick and I sat on her velvet couch, keeping a reasonable distance from each other. Her Persian cat was sleeping on his cushion by her hearth. He opened one uninterested eye to look at me, then closed it as soon as he gauged I wasn't a threat.
"What would you like to drink?" Mom asked Patrick.
"Whatever you have is fine for me, Mrs. Smith," he replied in his strong French accent.
"Please, call me Yu." Though she'd kept my father's last name for convenience and out of spite, she hated it when people called her Mrs. Smith.
"Do you need help?" I asked when she headed to the kitchen.
"No, sweetheart, just entertain your friend. I'll be right back."
My heart raced when she said "friend" again. Patrick sent me a look and mouthed, "Ça va?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
I gave a nod, though my hands were shaking. I held them together to steady myself, and Patrick's eyes followed the movement. He moved as if he were about to touch me, then pulled back, thinking better of it.
Mom came back within a few minutes, carrying a tray covered with various sodas.
It was getting hard to breathe. My lungs felt like they were ready to collapse each time her eyes traveled from Patrick to me.
"I didn't know what you liked, Patrick, so I brought a selection."
"Thank you."
He picked a Coke but gave a tiny wince when he realized it was sugar-free. He swept the other cans with one swift glance, quickly understanding my mom only bought diet sodas. He ran his hand over his mouth and settled for the one he'd already picked. I knew he had a huge aversion to diet drinks. It was either full sugar or no sugar at all for him, but he was polite enough not to tell my mom that. I picked a Sprite, and my mom didn't choose anything. She sat in the armchair facing us and studied Patrick not so subtly.
When the silence between us turned awkward, I figured it was the right moment to say what I'd come here to discuss. I had to speak before I chickened out. "There's something I need to tell you. That's why I came here."
"You're not going back to France, are you?" she asked.
Patrick winced at her question and opened his can to force a sip down. Based on his curled-down lips, I gathered he hated the drink but obliged my mom and took another gulp.
I didn't know where to start. I needed Patrick's help. As if sensing my call, he reached for my hand and squeezed it. When I still couldn't pronounce a word, he looked at my mom, whose eyes had dipped toward our interlaced fingers.
"I think you've gathered I'm a lot more than Brandon's friend," he said, knocking the air out of my lungs.
"Brandon?" she asked, looking at me.
My heart nearly jumped in my throat with every beat. I felt nauseated and tried hard not to puke. "I started dating Patrick when we were in France," I let out before I could stop.
Her eyes geared from me to him, then back to me. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was scared," I said, feeling so stupid.
"You thought I would judge?"
"No, it's just... I don't know." I'd never fully accepted who I was until I met Pa
trick, and he helped me explore that other side of myself.
She gave a tiny smile. "Honey, I already knew."
I froze and stared at her. "What?"
"Wei told me."
"Wei told you about Patrick?" I couldn't believe her. That little snitch. I'd have to teach her not to out people against their will.
"She spilled it after you came back from France. She said you'd met someone. When I asked what her name was, she said 'Patrick.'"
I sat there, winded.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked
"I wondered the same thing about you, dear. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."
"So you don't mind?" I asked.
"What? That my son is an incredible father, a wonderful human being, and that I raised him right? No, I'm so proud of you, Brandon. You're my biggest achievement in life."
My shoulders relaxed as tears pricked my eyes. For so long, I'd been worried. I'd felt caged like a bird unable to fly free. I felt like an idiot now. If I'd talked to her sooner, it would have taken such a huge weight off my shoulders.
"Wei told me you've been sad recently. Now that I've met Patrick, I understand why. I don't see how you could resist such a handsome young man." She turned to Patrick. "I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable. It's just you and Ling are the only people Brandon ever brought home. After his divorce, I didn't think he'd date ever again."
Patrick's hand tightened around mine. He brought my knuckles to his mouth for a kiss.
"I still don't understand why you felt the need to keep this from me, Brandon. How long have you known, anyway?"
I didn't know how to answer. I didn't want to bring him up in the conversation. Mom didn't need me to say a word though. It was like she could read my mind.
"What your father did has nothing to do with you or any other queer man out there, Brandon. He was a bad person, a selfish man, and he's never cared about anyone but himself. He was like that from the beginning. I just loved him too much to accept it. But it doesn't reflect on you. It doesn't matter who you like as long as you're happy. That's all I've ever wanted."
My shoulders sagged in relief as I gave a nod.
"What does it mean about your living situation here?" She gave Patrick a long look before reverting her full attention to me.