by Fiona Zedde
“Then tell me in a way that I can understand, because I’m feeling a dim here.” Her father spoke soft and low. He actually sounded confused.
Sage tried again. “We have a kind of non-traditional relationship. We don’t only…hang out with each other.”
Her father made a noise. “I swear, you young people think you invented everything. Married people have been swinging since the beginning of marriage,” he said. “Not too long ago, your mother and I—”
“No no no!” Sage pressed her hand to her ears. “I definitely don’t want to hear this.” Not about her parents fucking other people when she could barely face the reality of them fucking each other.
“You’re not very tolerant, are you?” Disappointment laced Miss Opal’s tone.
Beside her, her father nodded. “So much so that you’re doing the same thing to Phillida you expected us to do to you.”
Sage gasped. It felt like a thousand-pound weight dropped on her chest. “What? No!”
“Then what is this, Sage?” Miss Opal called her by her real name and she blinked in stunned reaction.
She was not being intolerant. “You don’t understand,” she said, but the fight knocked out of her with Miss Opal’s words.
“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t understand, daughter.” Her father finally took a sip of his tea, then screwed up his face, the taste apparently not what he expected. He probably forgot to put honey in it. “When you love someone, you just love them. You don’t take that love away because they stop being what you expect. Being in a relationship is about sticking with your wife through good and bad, famine and feast. You can’t pick and choose what you stay around for.”
He didn’t understand. How could he when he’d been his wife’s bitch for as long as Sage was paying attention to how they were with each other? If he suddenly grew a spine, his wife probably wouldn’t recognize him.
“Daddy, I don’t—”
“What are you doing up so early?” Sage’s mother shuffled into the kitchen with a brush of her slippered feet on the tiles.
Sage groaned. Not her too.
“We’re talking about Sage being afraid,” her father chimed in.
Her mother looked bleary-eyed but was awake enough not to bump into things. “Is she ready to tell us the thing yet?”
She repeated the actions of her husband from minutes before but took the container of brown sugar with her when she sat at the kitchen island, leaving only the stool in front of Sage empty. That was the only reason Sage saw the smile on Miss Opal’s face, a kind of ‘I told you so,’ while she stirred the pot bubbling on the stove.
Slowly, the kitchen filled with the warming smell of the banana porridge. Sage’s mouth fell open and it wasn’t because she was hungry for what Miss Opal was cooking.
“She told me,” Miss Opal said. Why did she have to sound so self-satisfied?
“Sage slipped and told me too, then we went on to talk about other things,” her father said.
“Like…?”
“Like Phillida,” Miss Opal said.
Her mother’s face screwed up and she looked down into her mug of tea.
Sage blamed her exhaustion on why she suddenly couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. “Why don’t you like Phil?” she asked.
“I don’t dislike her—”
“Pardon my language, mama, but that’s bullshit.” Damn, she must be really tired to say that out loud.
“Watch it. She’s still your mother and deserves respect.” Her father didn’t thump her but the look on his face said he wanted to.
Sage flinched. “Sorry.”
“Like I was saying, it’s not that I don’t like her,” her mother continued like she hadn’t been interrupted. “She’s just not good enough for you.”
Not good enough?
“What? She’s the best woman in the world. Nobody could ask for a better friend or lover.” What kind of woman did her mother think Phil was anyway? Sage didn’t miss the glances Miss Opal and her father exchanged but she was too irritated to call them on it.
“What kind of woman allows her wife or whatever to kick her out every time the in-laws come around?” Her mother frowned at Sage over her steaming mug of tea. “Phillida is weak.” She snapped the last word like it was the worst possible sin. “You need someone strong who can stand up to you, and who you can stand up for.” The tea mug never left her mother’s hands. She paused between each sentence, just long enough to take a giant sip of her tea. “There’s no way I would let the disapproval of my husband’s parents turn my household upside down. Never.”
For the second time that morning, Sage’s mouth dropped open. Her father nodded along as his wife spoke, his eyes moving between her and Sage while Miss Opal puttered around in the kitchen, busy but obviously paying attention.
“But you never— You –” Sage sputtered, trying to say at least one of the dozens of things crowding up at the back of her throat, anxious to spill out. “You acted like you hated that I was a lesbian and blamed Phil for turning me gay.”
“You assumed this all on your own, Sage. You were gay or whatever long before you met Phil. Your father and I know that. Miss Opal too.” Her mother paused and looked toward the kitchen to meet Miss Opal’s gaze. She seemed to get some sort of strength from the other woman because she turned back to Sage with slightly less strain on her face. “Did you ever think about talking to us about any of this before shutting us out of your life?
With the last word, her mother sounded close to tears, and that tore Sage apart.
This was all her fault. The life she lived separate from her parents. Phil’s sadness. The strain in her house right now. She pressed a hand over her suddenly aching chest and wished it was all different.
But she couldn’t change the past. “I’m sorry,” Sage whispered.
All at once, she was as close to hyperventilating as she’d ever been in her life.
“What’s wrong?” Miss Opal’s hand gently touched her back.
“Everything.” Sage gasped out the single word.
Her chest burned. She couldn’t catch her breath. The bullshit Phil had had to put up with over the years, all for nothing. The times Phil had to slink back into the closet every time Sage’s parents came to visit. The constant compromising of her strength just to make Sage feel safe in the narrow world she’d made for herself. Sage could count on both hands the times Phil asked her to consider coming out to her family and trust that her parents wouldn’t toss her aside.
But she’d said no. Over and over again.
Miss Opal appeared at her side, her hand warm on Sage’s shoulder, acceptance and the comforting scent of banana porridge radiating from her. “It’s not too late to change the kind of life you have, my heart.” Her hand made soothing circles on Sage’s back. “If you see you’re living your life the wrong way and make no move to do better, that’s when you’re really—as the kids say these days—fucking up.”
Miss Opal’s unexpected curse surprised a hiccup of laughter from Sage. When her mouth opened to allow the laugh free, she tasted tears. And, for the first time, the possibility of change.
“She’s right, you know.” Her father’s voice was soft with sympathy. “It’s not too late. We love you, and we’re here.”
Sage didn’t know what to say. Feeling like a child called into her father’s office for a talking to, she bit her lip. The pain grounded her, and she was more than a little grateful for it.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said and just talking felt like she was gargling gravel. She turned to her mother then, unable to keep looking at the sadness in her face, turned back away. “Mama, I’m sorry.” Sage squeezed her eyes shut and almost started crying again. Her shoulders sagged, and her head felt almost too heavy to lift.
“I know you are, baby,” her mother said. “We are too for letting it go on so long.” She paused. “That is why I think your father, Miss Opal, and I will be going to a hotel today.”
Sage’s tears stopped.
>
Sage’s father immediately agreed. “True. You girls need to work things out. Us being here in your home—”
“The one you have together,” Miss Opal added.
“—is just getting in the way of you being together.” Her father continued while nodding in agreement to what Miss Opal said.
“You guys don’t have to leave.”
“We do, darlin’ dear.” Miss Opal gave her shoulder one last pat before going back to her porridge.
“The graduation is just in a couple of days, but you need all the time possible to fix your home.”
“Take this chance, Sage. You don’t want to end up living with regret in this big old empty house.”
They all spoke, one after another, but the words sounded like they came from one voice. They were united. They were sure. And there was nothing she could do about it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After everything that went down, there was no way Sage could not go to Errol’s graduation. Even she wasn’t that much of a dick. She didn’t know the guy, but now she wanted to. Maybe even needed to. There was a strong chance that if she’d gotten to know him in the first place, she’d also know her parents better, and they wouldn’t have become so scary and monstrous in her mind.
After her parents abandoned her for a fancy hotel on the beach and Phil disappeared to wherever it was she’d gone to escape the tension in the house, Sage called Nuria for advice on what kind of gift to get Errol.
“What’s going on now?” was how Nuria answered the phone.
Last minute as ever, Sage searched through her closet for suitable graduation attending clothes, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “What are you talking about?” She frowned at an electric blue shirt Phil had always loved kissing her in. “Why does something have to be going on?” Sage bypassed the shirt on kept looking.
“These days you’re full of drama, baby. I hope you’re self-aware enough to realize that.”
Sage didn’t bite back her sigh, and even she had to admit it sounded dramatic. “I’m going to a graduation. The guy from Jamaica my parents have been sponsoring over the last few years.”
“Yeah, I remember him. You never wanted to meet him because you thought he was going to want to stone you for being gay, or something like that. Right?”
Although Nuria obviously couldn’t see her, Sage squirmed. “Yeah, something like that.” She stopped with her hand resting on a pair of black slacks, debating whether or not to confess to the full level of her stupidity. “That’s not an issue now, though.”
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes and pulled the slacks off its thick pine hanger. “Because he’s about as gay as I am.”
Surprised laughter crackled through the phone. “really?”
“Yeah, really.” She could barely get the word out over the sound of Nuria’s laughter. “Yeah. Laugh it up.”
“Oh my God! Does that mean you were wrong about them? Is he super gay, like rainbows flying out of his ass gay so hard to miss, kind of like you?” Nuria cackled again, enjoying this way too much. “Or is he discreetly queer and you happened to have found out when you walked in on him sucking some guy’s dick?”
“What’s up with you and your obsession with dick sucking?”
“Answer the fucking question.” The laughter still threaded through her voice.
“Rainbow ass,” Sage muttered. She backtracked and grabbed the blue shirt.
This time, Sage really couldn’t get a word in, the laughter was so loud and long. “You are such an idiot,” Nuria finally said.
“Believe me, I know.”
Her friend was silent for a moment. “But you know I understand. It’s hard to predict how parents will react when you reveal something about yourself they don’t expect.” Her voice was low, thoughtful. “You know I understand that more than anyone.”
Nuria’s parents, hell her whole family knew she was bisexual. But they were mostly indifferent to her and her life in general, not really aware of who she was dating, whether male or female, for long stretches of time. Not that Nuria ever dated anyone for long, or even exclusively.
“I know,” Sage said, equally quietly. She stopped in front of the shoe rack, her hand braced against the closet wall, head hanging down to stare between her bare feet. Her fingers tightened around the phone.
“So, what do you need from me, honey?”
“Come with me to pick out a graduation gift for a queer as fuck high school graduate.”
Nuria laughed again, a low-sound filled with warmth. “I can do that.”
She ended up helping Sage pick a nice enough gift, had it wrapped up and, since Phil wasn’t at home when it was time for her to leave, showed up as her date to Errol’s graduation.
When she got to the graduation, Phil was already there.
“Good,” Phil said after a long and thoughtful look at Sage’s electric blue shirt. “You guys are right on time. I had to damn near body slam a whole family of rugby players to keep these seats.” She moved her purse and a long scarf draped over two seats for Nuria and Sage to sit down.
Skin prickling in the wake of Phil’s stare, Sage settled into the seat near her parents and Miss Opal.
“Hey, honey bunny!” Nuria practically sat in Phil’s lap after they exchanged brief lip kisses. They’d always kissed each other on the mouth, brief pecks that never bothered Sage before but made her dart a look at her parents and Miss Opal to see what their reactions were. They didn’t seem to care. Or even notice.
“What’s the plan?” Nuria asked. “Are we going to sing out a cheer or just clap and jump up and down like any other graduation?”
Sage’s parents looked at her like they thought she was crazy. But when Nuria winked at Sage’s mother—her mother!—her father laughed and her mother smiled back. Maybe there wasn’t anything for her to worry about after all.
The graduation went by quickly, with Errol walking across the stage in his summa cum laude gold cords. Nuria and Phil jumped up and down, screaming his name while Sage’s father whistled the whole house down. Sage’s mother clapped and waved a Jamaican flag she whipped out of her purse at the last minute.
“We’re proud of you, Errol!” she shouted.
Errol froze on the stage for a moment, eyes big as he searched the crowd for the source of the cheers. When he found Sage and the rest of the family, his smile was pure happiness.
Sage was left feeling both relieved and unsettled. Was this the kind of unwavering support she could’ve had if she’d been out to her parents all this time? Her eyes stung, but she refused to let any tears fall. This wasn’t a time for regret.
She and the group went to dinner at Errol’s favorite restaurant, which turned out to be Novlette’s of all places, where their table was only one of several with new graduates wearing a part or whole of their cap and gown outfits. Novlette came out from behind the counter and brought him a small cake with his name on it. Sage didn’t even realize they knew each other.
After a while, it got to be too much, and she left the table with the pretense of going to the bathroom. But she went out to the back patio instead. The area was closed off, sloping as it was down to the dock where people could get to the restaurant by boat and dock while they ate either in the restaurant or on their boats.
“You okay, darlin’ dear?”
She wasn’t surprised that it was Miss Opal, sneaking up on her as always. Sage didn’t answer her question right away.
“Why him?” she finally asked by way of answering and not answering.
Miss Opal draped her skinny arms over the railing next to Sage’s. The smell of her old-school perfume, rose water with a hint of citrus, washed over her, soothed her.
“Maybe because you never allowed them to love you as the real you.”
Sage squeezed her eyes shut, and the tears that had threatened during the graduation surged up against her again. This time, she let them fall. Miss Opal draped her arm over Sage’s back. The warmth from
her thin and frail-seeming body with all its strength, seeping into Sage.
“I’ve been so stupid,” she gasped through her tears.
“Not stupid, just afraid.” Calloused hands made soothing circles on her back. “We all get afraid sometimes. It’s what makes us protect ourselves.”
“Even when there’s nothing to protect ourselves from?”
“Maybe especially then.”
Regret pooled in Sage’s stomach, churned, then surged up in her throat. It tasted too much like bile. “Yeah…” She tilted her head to lean on Miss Opal’s shoulder although it was a longer way than she was used to and threatened to cramp her neck up later, but for now, it was exactly what she needed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Her parents didn’t stay much longer after graduation. At the airport, Sage parked her car and walked them as far as the security line.
“Next time we come, we can stay longer,” her father said.
Her mother gave her a tight hug. “Yes, once your family is back together and you’re in your right mind again, we’ll do more.”
“And maybe we can even have a nice dinner with your friends,” Miss Opal said.
They’d known about Rémi and Dez for years, but had never met their lovers before the graduation dinner. Her mother had been instantly charmed by Claudia and couldn’t stop talking about how elegant and pretty she was. If her mother didn’t seem so settled down with her husband, Sage would’ve worried about that spontaneous woman crush.
“Yeah, that would be great.” Then she’d spoken out of her raw heart. “Maybe this Christmas? Just tell me when you three can come and I’ll get the tickets.”
They all exchanged a look.
“Yes, I think we can manage that.” It was her father who spoke.
“Yes, definitely.” Her mother reached out and hugged Sage one more time. “And make sure your woman knows she’s welcome. Be fair to her and to yourself.”
A thick lump landed in Sage’s throat and she swallowed it hard. “Thanks, Mama. I’ll let her know.”