by Lane Hayes
She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Tony, please.”
“I’m gay.”
I opened my mouth to add a lengthy explanation but really, there was nothing to explain. It was the simple truth. I was gay.
“Gay?” she repeated softly. “I don’t—I don’t think so.”
“I am. It’s true.”
“No. I would know. I—are you…sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know. A death in the family can have far-reaching consequences. You tend to internalize your pain, Tony. You don’t deal with things that bother you and—”
“Mom, I didn’t turn gay after Dad died. I’ve always been gay. I tried not to be, but I’ve figured out it’s not the kind of thing you can pray away. It’s just who I am.”
“Gay?”
“Yes. I don’t want to upset you. I’m sorry if I have, but…I thought you should know.”
“Yes,” she agreed, still sounding vaguely confused.
I stood again and moved to look out at the lawn. “You should know I didn’t want this. I fought it for a long time. I was ashamed and I kinda hated myself.”
“Tony,” she gasped.
“It’s true. What did I know about being gay? Zilch. I thought the stereotypes had to be based on fact and none of those flamboyant descriptions fit me. I wanted to be like Dad. I always did. I wanted to walk like him, talk like him, build things like him. He was my hero. When I started to catch on there was something different about me, I hid it like hell from him. I didn’t want to disappoint him.”
“No, no, no. He loved you, Tony,” she cried. “He was never disappointed.”
“I know, Mom. But I was afraid. And now he’s gone and I’m…crushed,” I choked, swiping at the moisture pooling in my eyes. “Some days it hits me like a sledgehammer and I can’t breathe, it hurts so bad. But I gotta keep going. We all do. I thought at first that meant I had to try harder to keep this secret. But I can’t do it anymore and it finally occurred to me—this isn’t what he would have wanted. I think he would have wanted to know the truth.”
“Yes. We both just wanted you to be happy.”
“It made me unhappy to think the real me wasn’t someone either of you would be proud of. Now I know it’s all I’ve got. I have to let you know who I really am. I’m still me. And I’m gay.”
“And I’m still your mother and I still love you.”
I moved back to the chair and nudged her knee in an awkward show of affection. I had more to say and I didn’t want emotion to get in the way before I finished.
“I met someone, Mom. Someone special.”
“And it’s not Karen,” she said with a note of humor. “Who is he? Will I meet him?”
“Do you want to?” It was impossible to keep my surprise from showing. I’d expected the tears and the, “Are you sure?” but not this.
“Of course I do. I want to know everything about him. How old is he? Where is he from? What does he do? I have to know if he’s good enough for you.” Her voice rose indignantly as she spoke, but the way she cradled my hand was infinitely kind. A mother’s touch conveying unconditional love and support.
“I worry it’s the other way around. I don’t know if I’m good enough for him.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” she said fiercely. “You’re a good man with a beautiful soul. You’re good enough for anyone.”
“He’s the only one I want.”
“Did you mess it up?”
“Yeah, but…I’m gonna fix it.” I gulped around the tears in my throat. “Um, I don’t know how everyone else will take this. Maybe I shouldn’t go to Nonna’s tonight.”
“Yes, you should. You’re under no obligation to tell anyone anything until you’re ready, but don’t hide. And if anyone says boo, they’ll have me to answer to.”
I chuckled as I pulled her into my arms in a fierce embrace. “I love you, Ma.”
“I love you too. And I’m proud of you. You should know your dad would be too.”
Yesterday, I would have doubted that was true. I might even have been correct, but not for the reason I thought. I’d let fear and doubt win for too long. I’d been proud of my accomplishments but not of myself. Now I felt…free. I wasn’t ashamed to be gay. I wasn’t sorry I wasn’t like everyone else I knew. I was proud.
* * *
The sidewalks were overrun with tourists the following afternoon. They jockeyed for position to take selfies with the Flatiron Building or catch a glimpse of the Empire State Building to the north. I switched my lunch from my left hand to my right and craned my neck toward the park as I waited with the masses crossing at Fifth Avenue. I couldn’t see him, but he said he’d be here.
I should have brought flowers, I mused. Not a turkey sandwich.
Geez, I brought the wrong things and I’d suggested a crowded park on a hot summer day. That meant I had to rely on my charm and wit to get out of this mess. I might be doomed.
The afternoon sun drove the masses toward water or shade. Every chair around the fountain was taken. I was almost afraid to look at our tree. What if he changed his mind? What if I wasn’t what he wanted or needed or—
There he was.
Sunlight glittered over Remy, highlighting his halo of curls in gold. He wore dark shorts and a white concert tee from a band I’d never heard of. And damn, he was beautiful. He leaned against the broad tree trunk with his guitar case and a backpack at his feet exuding the air of a perpetual student or a traveling minstrel. He looked innately confident and in tune with his surroundings. The kind of man who was proud and unafraid to take risks. Sure of who he was and what he deserved. I hoped like hell I could be deserving of him.
He looked up from his phone just then and smiled. And everything in my world fell into place. I knew with certainty he was my oasis. He was my refuge, my sanctuary, my shelter, and he owned my heart. I couldn’t see how a schmuck like me might deserve someone like him. I was a construction worker from Brooklyn with a ton of baggage, too much family, and had a tendency to freeze when I needed to be heard.
Not today though. Today, I had to be fucking amazing.
“Hey! Whatcha doin’?” I called to him from the path.
Okay. Rough start. I could do better. I took a deep breath and moved closer.
“I’m holding a spot for a friend,” he replied with a crooked grin.
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Tony.”
“You like this guy or what?” I asked in a thick accent, setting my lunch on top of his guitar case.
“I love him,” he said simply.
I pursed my lips hoping the effort would keep my emotions under control until I could say what needed to be said. I couldn’t remember the speech I’d rehearsed on the subway. Fuck, I wasn’t actually sure my name was Tony.
“He loves you too, you know.”
Remy chuckled. “He does?”
“Yeah.” I slipped my sunglasses off and hooked them over my collar then blurted, “I came out.”
“Oh?”
I nodded and looked away for a moment. “It’s been twenty-four hours but so far, so good. I think it’ll take some time. I thought about doing a one-time shout-out at my grandmother’s last night but I was talked out. And honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The me part…it doesn’t seem to matter without you.” I winced. “No, that didn’t sound right.”
“Yes, it did. It sounded perfect,” he insisted, plucking at my shirt to draw me near.
“I can do better,” I assured him. I braced one hand against the tree by his head and leaned in. “I wrote you a poem.”
“You did?”
“Don’t get excited. It sucked. The idea wasn’t bad but I couldn’t get the words to rhyme. Or I did, but…‘You make me feel lucky and now I want to fucky…’ See? It’s not quite right.”
Remy howled with laughter. “That’s very…smooth.”
I snorted at his sarcasm then finally gave into impulse
and threaded my fingers through his hair.
“I missed you. Two days without you feels like forever. I don’t know if I deserve you or if you even want the same things I do but the second I said, ‘I’m gay’ I realized I was really fucking lucky to get to turn around and say ‘I love you’ to the most beautiful man I’ve ever set eyes on. I’ve been in the dark for a long time, Rem. I’ve been going through the motions…here but not really engaged in the moment. I guess I didn’t think I had a place. Now I know I do. You’re my place. I love you, Remy. I want to plant you a tree like this one in our backyard. You can sit in the shade in the summer and can play guitar and—”
“Where will you be?” he asked in a low, choked tone.
“Next to you. Always next to you.”
Remy flung himself into my arms. I held on tight, reveling in the joy of holding him again. When I nuzzled his neck, he lifted his face and sealed his lips over mine. We sighed as our tongues twisted in a familiar dance I never wanted to end.
Remy ran his fingers through my hair and lowered his lashes in a move I wasn’t sure he meant to be seductive but definitely was.
“People are staring,” he warned, resting his forehead on mine.
“Let ’em. I’m where I belong.”
Remy bit his lip and nodded. “Me too. I had a feeling you were special the day we met. I liked the sexy way you walked, like an urban cowboy with a tool belt instead of cowboy boots. And when you spoke, I knew you were it.”
I barked a quick laugh. “Oh yeah? What’d I say?”
“ ‘Hey.’ ”
“You’re easy,” I joked.
“Maybe. That’s all it took. All your swagger and attitude melted away when you looked at me and there you were…the real you. I knew you were mine.”
“I am yours.” I kissed him again then pointed at the lunch I’d brought. “Enough of the romance stuff, eh? I brought turkey on rye and my mom’s pasta salad. Eat up and tell me about your day. I’ll see if there’s a chair available so the ants don’t crawl up your shorts and bite your ass.”
Remy snickered then captured my hand before I got anywhere. “Wait. One last thing. I’m yours too. I love you.”
I kissed his hand then gave him a Cheshire cat grin. “I know.”
He swatted me playfully then pulled a blanket from his backpack. I helped him smooth out the edges and sat beside him and listened to him talk about his Sunday and his celebrity sighting on the subway this morning. The words didn’t matter after a while. They were background music. Something pleasant to hum along to while we savored our new beginning. Under a tree in a busy park in a city where anything was possible.
Epilogue
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
― Dr. Seuss
The garden looked pretty. It wasn’t particularly big, but there was plenty of room for the Adirondack chairs Remy insisted had to go under the tree. I glanced behind me at the picnic table he’d covered with a cherry red tablecloth. He gave me a harried look when he stepped outside a moment later carrying a bag of ice.
“I thought you were in charge of filling the cooler. I don’t mind switching jobs, but we have to get it together. They’re supposed to be here in fifteen minutes,” he said, emptying the bag into the ice chest by the back door.
I snaked my arms around him and buried my nose in his neck. When he tried to push me away, I squeezed him closer and then tickled him until he squirmed around to face me. I kissed him before he could protest, loving that familiar moment of surrender. The silent acknowledgment that nothing was more important than what we shared here. Family, friends, and backyard picnics paled in comparison.
“It’s just family, Rem. What’re you worried about? This isn’t our first picnic,” I reminded him, pushing his curls out of his eyes.
“I know, but it’s the first one we’ve had outside since I moved in. You know, there’s a lot of pressure in coordinating potato salad making, fruit chopping and dealing with alcohol and soda.” When I raised my brow dubiously, he chuckled. “Fine. Your family makes me nervous.”
“Why? They love you.”
It was true. They did. When I introduced Remy to my immediate family last summer, he was welcomed with a ferocity he obviously hadn’t expected. My mother adored him from the start. She liked that he was a teacher and that he spoke affectionately about his mom and brother. But mostly, she loved that he loved me. After they got over the shock that I had a boyfriend, my siblings were equally welcoming. They claimed they’d have been surprised about a girlfriend too but either way, they assured us we had their full support. And Mikey was right behind them. When I pulled him aside and told him I was ready to tell the guys at work, he’d hooked his arm over my shoulder and said, “I’m on your side, Tony. Always. You love him, then he’s my brother now too. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
If anyone in my admittedly gigantic family had a problem with me being gay, they kept it to themselves. No one shunned me or Remy. We were invited to every birthday party and barbeque. And when he moved into my place at the end of last summer before he started his new job, Sundays at Nonna’s became compulsory for him too. Their acceptance meant the world to both of us, but it was stifling at times.
“And I love them. But it feels different when they come to our house. I’m not a natural at entertaining the way most of your cousins are. I always forget something. Limes! Did you get limes?”
“Yes, I got limes.” I rubbed his arms and then ruffled his hair playfully. “We have enough food to feed an army. The grill is ready and there’s plenty of beer. Don’t sweat it. The gay couple mystique is wearing off. Just relax and watch Mikey wince when the women start sharing their grossest birth stories. Lindsay’s the one who’s going to have a kid any minute, and the dad-to-be can’t handle baby poop stories. Classic.”
Remy gave a half chuckle. “Hmm. You want kids too, don’t you?”
“Do you?”
“You go first.”
“Yes. But not until we’re both ready. If you never wanted to…I’d live, but—”
“I do,” he blurted.
“You do?”
He grinned as he reached out to smooth the creases in my forehead. “Not right away but…I want this whole family thing. Marriage, kids, the works. I didn’t think I’d feel this way, but then I met you and it feels right. Perfect even.”
“So you wanna get married, eh? Are we announcing this before or after burgers and potato salad?”
“Ha. Ha. We’re not announcing anything. I just want you to know, I’m ready for everything. With you.”
I was overcome and the clock was ticking. The last thing I wanted was my mother to walk in now ’cause I’d blab for sure, and she’d start planning a big gay wedding before we knew what hit us. I ran my thumb over his bottom lip and smiled at my man.
“Everything. I like the sound of that. But I gotta tell you, as long as I have you, I have everything I need.”
Remy gave me that surprised look I’d become very familiar with in the year we’d been together. It morphed into an incandescent joy that made anyone near him happier than they’d have thought possible. Especially me.
“You really do have a way with words, Tony.”
I held him close, angling my head to kiss him just as my sisters arrived with a few of our cousins. The catcalls and wolf whistles were followed by requests to crank up the music and spike the iced tea before our moms got there. Remy slipped his hand into my back pocket and stood at my side, welcoming our family.
Sometimes I marveled at how different my life was now. I still lived in the same house, had the same job, and saw the same people daily. But now I had Remy too. He was my other half and I was his. We inspired each other to be more than we were alone. We were stronger, kinder, better. I might not always know what to say or how to say it, but I knew to trust my instincts now. And my own way with words.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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br /> Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in an almost empty nest.