by M. L. Rice
Bryce responded with quiet logic, hoping to calm her mother down. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was abolished, Mom. It’s okay to be gay in the military now. I’ll be fine.”
Instead of calming her down, this only sent her mother into another frenzy. “I won’t have you insisting that you’re gay! You were raised to be a good Christian! How can you do this to me?”
Bryce’s temper flared and she sat up straighter. “What in the world makes this about you? This is my life and I’m just trying my best to figure things out! I don’t need you spouting religious bigotry in my face just because you’re too close-minded to see beyond the evangelical propaganda that has poisoned your brain! I’m your daughter, for Christ’s sake!”
“Don’t you dare use the Lord’s name in vain!”
Bryce heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Moments later, her father burst into the room and bellowed, “What in the world is going on up here?”
Bryce’s mother turned on him, “I found your daughter naked in bed with Leah Friedman!”
Her father’s eyes widened and his gaze moved to meet Bryce’s, but he didn’t say anything. Her mother wheeled back around to face her. “You have broken my heart, Bryce. May the Lord forgive you for what you’ve done.” With the words hanging in the air, she spun around on her heel and left the room, a door slamming in the hallway a few seconds later.
The silence left in her wake was deafening. Tears welled up in Bryce’s eyes, but so far, the shock was winning out. She could only sit on the edge of her bed, heart racing, trying to rationalize everything that had just happened.
“Honey, are you okay?” Her dad wore a worried frown. Bryce saw him start to move toward her, but he stopped, as if he were uncomfortable getting too close.
Okay? “Yeah, Dad. Best morning ever.” That was it. She couldn’t help it anymore. Tears poured down her cheeks and she bent over, holding her head in her hands as she cried.
Still, her father didn’t come closer, didn’t touch or hug her.
“I’m going to go talk to your mother. See if I can calm her down, okay?” His voice was kind, despite his obvious discomfort with consoling her. He had never been good with the depth of female emotions.
Bryce didn’t respond, but only curled into the fetal position, facing away from her father and her bedroom door. She breathed deeply, trying to get her crying under control. She hated feeling weak.
After several moments, she heard her door close quietly behind her.
She was alone.
Chapter Ten
Bryce stayed curled up on her bed for most of the day, watching the shadows descend and rise on the wall as the sun rose and set. She waited for someone to come and talk to her again, to apologize, to berate her, to say anything, but no one did. Vaguely she realized she had never called in sick to work. She hoped she would still have a job come tomorrow.
The ring of her phone startled her.
The caller ID displayed the name Leah Friedman in bright white letters. At first she didn’t want to answer it, but she knew that Leah was probably worried sick.
“Hey, Leah,” Bryce said in a monotone when she accepted the call.
“Oh my God, Bryce, are you okay?”
“Peachy. How are you, though? Oh, and please don’t fill out the comment card for Casa Montgomery’s hospitality. We have a reputation to uphold, you know,” Bryce deadpanned.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Her voice softened. “What happened after I left? If you want to tell me, that is. You don’t have to.”
“No, it’s okay. Mom completely lost her shit. She’s super conservative and she pretty much damned me to hell.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. It’s so nice to hear your mom tell you she’s basically ashamed of you after one small act despite your whole life of being the perfect daughter and your parents’ pride and joy.”
“What have you been doing all day?”
“Lying here.”
“You didn’t go to work?”
“Nope.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t think so. I wouldn’t come over here again if I were you, though. I’m so sorry.” Anger crested inside Bryce again. “I can’t believe she treated you like that! I’m so pissed. Not to mention mortified.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I don’t want to cause any problems.”
“I know you don’t, Leah, but I also don’t want you thinking this is your fault.”
“But—”
“No. This has nothing to do with you. I’ve recently figured out I’m a lesbian and I happen to have a mother who thinks evangelical zealots are too liberal. Yay me.”
Leah was silent for a moment. “Maybe my parents could talk to your parents. My mom knows your mom from that community group they’re both in. Your mom helped mine collect holiday toys at our temple a few years ago, remember? They know about me. They even know I’ve had a crush on you for years—”
“They what?”
“It’s okay! They’re totally cool with it. I can have them call—”
“Don’t you dare! Anytime anyone tries to express a differing opinion to my mom, she just puts up a wall and shuts people out. They don’t need to get in the middle of this. For their sake.”
Leah was silent for a while. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t either, but I’m not up for talking right now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll talk to you later, though. Thanks for calling.”
“Take care, Bryce.” Leah sounded heartbroken.
*
Bryce hesitantly made her way downstairs later that evening, the rumbling in her stomach impossible to ignore. Even though the thought of food made her queasy, she knew she had to eat. She hoped she had waited long enough that both of her parents would be in bed. Her chest contracted painfully as her mother’s words resurfaced in her mind. Even her father hadn’t come to talk to her again that day. She had been left alone in her room, shunned like a pariah in her own home. Tears stung her eyes, but she defiantly fought them off, not wanting to revert to her earlier despondency. She was determined to be strong through whatever happened next.
Tiptoeing silently down the hallway, she paused at the top landing to listen for noises downstairs. Hearing nothing, she continued. She paused again on the top step, but still heard no voices or movement. Finally, she descended the stairs, skipping the seventh one that always squeaked, then froze at the bottom when she heard her father’s deep voice speaking softly from the kitchen.
“You can’t just let her sit in there alone forever, Cynthia. One of us should go talk to her.”
She heard her mother sniff quietly. “I can’t even bear to look at her. All I see is her…them…in bed.” Her mother’s voice cracked. “I just can’t.”
“That’s no way to treat our daughter.”
“I know, I know, I know.” Her mother’s voice became muffled. Bryce could practically see her burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to do. There has to be some way we can help her.”
“The only way we can help is by talking to her. She’s not doing this just to upset us, you know.”
“I need to talk to Harold. He’ll know what to do.”
“Well, you’d better do it quick. Who knows what she’s thinking up there alone. Will you at least go say something to her? She’s our baby.”
“Our baby would never—”
“Cynthia.”
Her mother sighed. “I’ll try.”
Adrenaline shot through Bryce as she heard her mother’s chair slide back from the kitchen table. She spun around and jumped up the stairs as quietly as she could, slipping into her room. She’d just managed to close the door softly as she heard her mother step on the squeaky stair. She scrambled into bed and said nothing as her mother knocked.
When she didn’t answer her mother opened the door just enoug
h to let a small spray of the hall light into the room.
“Bryce?”
Her heart thudded. She didn’t reply.
“I’m sorry we had this…fight, but I’m going to get you some help. You won’t have to deal with this alone.”
That was it? That was trying? Bryce waited for her mother to continue, to say something more meaningful, but after a pause the door shut again.
Bryce rolled on to her back and fumed. Get her help? From Harold Noke? The old-as-dirt pastor from her mother’s evangelical church, who preached hellfire and damnation not only for homosexuals, but for anyone who didn’t fit his narrow “family values” mold? Bryce could think of nothing worse. He was the main reason she had stopped going to church. His malevolent sermons made her nauseous. She hated that someone like him had turned her away from something that used to make her so happy.
She had always had fun at church when she was younger. She played with the other kids in her youth group, reveled in the otherworldliness when the choir sang, liked hearing about the unconditional love that was supposed to come from something larger than herself, and especially enjoyed the peace and happiness of the Easter and Christmas services.
That all changed when Pastor Harold took over the congregation five years ago. It was a slow transition, but eventually the sermons about loving one’s neighbor and helping those less fortunate gave way to more politicized sermons about the evils of atheists, modern-day witchcraft, and downright xenophobia. The most disturbing thing was that she could only watch helplessly as her mother followed like a drugged sheep down his increasingly judgmental path. Her father followed too, but mostly because he followed his wife’s lead in almost everything. He might look like a tough lumberjack, but he was more like a loyal dog where Bryce’s mother was concerned.
Bryce quivered wondering what Harold’s “help” would consist of. What could she do about it? It bothered her to think that she had upset her mother so much, but being gay wasn’t something she had just decided to be one day. Sure, the revelation had happened very quickly, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for Bryce. She always took everything in stride and had never encountered an obstacle she hadn’t overcome with spectacular ease.
This, however…
She didn’t know what to do. Should she fight back? She only had to put up with her mother for three more weeks before leaving for the academy after all. But, oh, how those three weeks would suck! Not to mention the possibility of damaging their formerly close relationship forever.
Bryce smacked her fist ineffectually on the bed. No, she couldn’t fight back. It wouldn’t help. She wouldn’t take everything lying down, of course. That just wasn’t in her nature. But she could try to ignore everything. Pretend nothing had ever happened, just to keep the relative peace.
She scoffed out loud.
Who was she kidding? Her mother would never forget what she’d seen. And they hadn’t even been doing anything too interesting. But still…
Maybe she should talk to Arati and Jennifer. They always knew what to do. Well, Jennifer always knew what to do, and Arati always made her feel better about whatever she did. She’d talk to her friends. Tomorrow. She was too tired, too hungry, and too upset to do anything right now.
*
A soft scraping noise startled Bryce awake. She had been dreaming that she was locked in a giant maze. Every time she thought she had found a way out, she ended up in a bright, empty room that vaguely reminded her of one of the rooms in her house. She spent a long time in each room she entered, hoping someone would find a way in to free her. Occasionally she could hear her parents on the other side of the wall, but their words were muffled and no matter how hard she hammered her fists on the smooth, white plaster, nothing ever changed. She would finally turn around and head back into the dark maze, feeling her way past trash cans and broken brick as if she were in a never-ending back alley in a slowly decaying city of perpetual night.
Roaches ran over her fingers as they slid along the walls and rats ran between her feet, tripping her as she moved, yet she continued, finding one useless room after another. Right before the noise in her room woke her up, she had seen four shadowy figures standing in a doorway. She could tell they were there to help her, but she couldn’t make out their faces. She had taken her first step to run to them when her eyes snapped open. She blinked in confusion as her brain tried to make sense of the image of her bedroom ceiling in contrast with the dark maze that had just imprisoned her.
She heard a quiet click and looked over to her bedroom door. A bowl of oatmeal, a plate of buttered toast with grape jelly, and a glass of orange juice sat just inside of her door. She wondered if it had been her mother or her father who had put it there.
Her stomach growled loudly as the smell reached her.
Groggily she eased out of bed and approached the plate. Paranoia struck her as she wondered if her parents had poisoned the food.
“Oh my God, Bryce. Chill,” she said quietly to herself before taking a huge bite of toast.
When her breakfast was gone, Bryce found that she was still hungry. She also realized she only had fifteen minutes to get to work. She bounded across the room to change into her swimsuit, thrilled that this would give her an opportunity to get out of the house. Dealing with her mother this morning wasn’t something she thought she could stomach. It would also give her the opportunity to go over to Jennifer’s house afterward and talk things through. She was feeling more optimistic already now that she had a plan, however weak it might be.
When she was dressed she grabbed her iPhone and keys and quietly opened her bedroom door. She listened, but heard no one. Instead of a silent descent like she had attempted last night, she bolted from her room, barreling noisily down the stairs and out the front door. She didn’t even look around on her way out, being focused solely on escape.
She reached the front door and fumbled the lock open, then sprinted for her car in the driveway. The strain in her muscles, still tight from lying in bed for over twenty-four hours, was a welcome pain in contrast to the emotional turmoil she had been through. She reached her car, unlocked and opened the door, and plopped down in the seat in one fluid movement. As the car started, she saw her mother open the front door and stare at her sadly. She pulled out of the driveway and sped toward the waiting refuge of the swimming pool.
When she arrived at the pool house she found that the lock had been cut off her locker and the contents removed. Confused, she walked to the office and found her supervisor sitting behind his desk, typing on his computer.
“Hey, Rob. I’m sorry I didn’t call in yesterday. I was really sick.”
The middle-aged man in a baby blue polo shirt looked up, his face showing irritation. “I’m sorry you were sick, Bryce, but you didn’t call in at all and didn’t answer when we called you. We didn’t know if you were sick or dead.”
Bryce flushed. “I’m sorry. I just felt so awful that I couldn’t think about anything else. It’ll never happen again, I promise.”
Rob sighed. “That’s true. Unfortunately we can’t have ‘no call, no shows’ for even one day here. These kids depend on our lifeguards with…well, with their lives. Dennis had to come in on his day off and get a sitter for his little brother because of you. I’m sorry, Bryce, but you know we have a zero tolerance policy about this kind of thing.”
Bryce’s heart sank to her feet as she realized what he was saying. Her lip trembled. “You’re firing me?”
“Yes.”
Desperation forced her to put her hands on his desk and plead her case. “But I’ve been working at this pool without being late even once for months. Dennis is late all the time!”
“Late doesn’t equal absent without notification.”
Bryce looked into his eyes, hoping to see a change of heart. When she saw none she stood up again and said in a firm voice, “This isn’t fair and you know it. I’ve given hours and hours of service here. I’m the best lifeguard you have.”
He l
eaned back in his chair and nodded slowly. “Yes, you were, which is why I’m so disappointed in you.”
Bryce turned to begging. “Rob, I leave for Connecticut in three weeks and I could really use the money. Isn’t there anything I can do to make up for it? Work overtime? Take some of Dennis’s shifts off his hands?” Bryce was trembling, trying to persuade her boss to give her another chance. She knew she sounded desperate.
Rob sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He said nothing for a long time and Bryce was about to beg for her job again when he finally said, “Bryce, you’re the only person who I would even slightly consider doing this for.”
Bryce held her breath.
“You have one more chance.”
Bryce jumped in the air and squealed, something she didn’t think she had ever done before.
“But,” Rob continued, “if you are late or have to miss work just once, you’re done. Got it?”
Bryce beamed. “Yes! It won’t happen again! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Okay, fine. I get it. Now get out there and watch over those kids.”
Bryce practically hopped out of the office, grabbing the cardboard box that held her gear as she left. She didn’t know why this job meant so much to her, but she figured it might have something to do with getting her out of her house. The thought of spending the next three weeks cooped up in her room sickened her. Now she had several hours almost every day at one of the places she loved most in the world. That was worth more than the paycheck at this point.
She used her time at the pool that day to contemplate what her mother had said about church, about her parents helping her “get through” this, and to figure out how she really felt about it. She realized she had ignored all of the signs of her blossoming sexuality over the years. The way she had become overly fascinated with certain actresses and singers, how she never really looked at guys the way Jennifer and especially Arati did, and how she had just used her schoolwork and sport as an excuse to not have to deal. She hadn’t even realized she had been lying to herself. Leah had blown the deceit wide open.