Don't Ask, Don't Tell

by M. T. Pope

  “Hell, yes, it matters,” he said. He reached over to touch my hand, as he could clearly see that his words had moved me in the wrong way. “Look, sweetheart. The way I see it, and will always see it is, a man should only be married to a woman. There is no other right way. Many Liberals take the same position as I do, and some are even sterner about it than I am. The Defense of Marriage Act should have been upheld in all states, and it saddens me that some of them are passing laws that say otherwise. I hope that if or when this issue ever comes knocking at my door, I’ll be in a position to quickly shoot it down. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, I will.”

  I slowly eased my hand away from his. “I can’t believe you’re so stern about this. Do the people who intend to vote for you know your position on this? A while back, I clearly recall you speaking at the Jackie Joyner-Kersee Center and this subject came up. You said that you supported gay marriage.”

  Aaron shrugged and looked directly at me. “Well, what can I say, other than I lied. It wasn’t the first time, and I doubt that it will be the last. As long as you know how I truly feel, that’s all that should matter.”

  My eyes widened, and saying that I was in shock was putting it mildly. Had I given him too much credit, when it didn’t seem due? I had always felt that Aaron would be different from other politicians, and for him to admit to lying to people made me wary.

  “No, Aaron, I don’t know how you feel. Tell me. How do you really feel about gay marriage, or for that matter, gays in general?”

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then cleared his throat. “Personally—and I would never repeat these words to anyone else but you—but I find gay people to be despicable. The thought of two men having sex with each other is just ... just downright nasty and thinking about it makes my flesh crawl. They parade around looking like damn fools. In no way should they be allowed to do some of the mess that they do in public. It’s confusing to our children and no one should be forced to answer questions like why in the hell is a man kissing another man. I will never get with the program, and I hope that any man who decides to go that route with his life burns in hell.”

  I wanted to fall back in my chair. These couldn’t be the thoughts and views of a man I intended to marry, could they? “You ... your comments are pertaining to men. How do you feel about gay women? Most men get a thrill—”

  “Well, I’m not that kind of man,” he snapped. “Nothing about two women having sex with each other turns me on and it is just as sickening as two men. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m done with this conversation. Having it is not worth my time and I don’t want to be late for church.”

  I said not another word during breakfast, and neither did Aaron. I guess he was entitled to feel the way he did, but the hatred he seemed to carry in his heart for gays really disturbed me. It disturbed me so much that there was a pain in the pit of my stomach that just wouldn’t go away. I didn’t like the fact that he could easily judge another person’s situation without having the willingness to look at the big picture. Maybe some people felt they were born gay, and had no control whatsoever over their situation. Maybe they had been sexually abused and that’s what turned them away from the opposite gender. Or maybe, they just happened to fall in love with someone who made them feel complete. Who in the hell was I to judge, and where in the heck did Aaron get off, thinking that these people didn’t deserve to have peaceful lives without all of the unnecessary challenges and stereotypes that I was positive were setbacks? The only thing that sickened me was that he was on his way to sitting in a church, praising the Lord, with a heart filled with hate. Something about that didn’t seem right to me and the shame was definitely in that.

  I parked in front of my mother’s house on Cote Bril-liante Avenue, in mid-city. She had lived in the same house for years, refusing to relocate anywhere else. The neighborhood was run-down and many of the houses that remained on the street were now vacant and boarded up. After my father died of prostate cancer, I figured Momma would move, but she didn’t. Daddy had worked all of his life, but driving around in fancy cars and living in a lavish house was never his objective. He was all about saving money and when he died, he had plenty of it. Most of it was given to me and only some to Momma, none to my sister Kate. My parents had a tumultuous marriage, but managed to stay together. I never understood why, especially since she slept in one room and he’d slept in another. They had separate everything, even separate refrigerators where she had her things and he had his. Growing up with such divisions in a marriage, it was very confusing to me and my sister Kate. We never understood why our parents couldn’t get along. We rarely witnessed them being intimate with each other, and I can’t even recall a time where I saw them kiss. There was nothing but a bunch of arguing and disrespect. You had Momma trying to get you to see things her way, and my father trying to pull you his way. We were always caught in the middle, and when I finally went away to college, it was the best thing that had ever happened. I hated to return home, even though I had nothing but love for my mother. She was the one who had a slight attitude with me about my father’s money, but I offered to give her more of it. She declined. So, instead of going back and forth with her about it, I bought my penthouse, decided to work part time with my interior decorating business, and minimized my visits to her house. The only time she really called me was if she wanted something, and like always, I was there.

  Dressed in a sleeveless pink and white sundress and sandals, I opened the screen door and knocked. After a minute or two there was no answer, so I knocked harder. Still, no answer. A bit frustrated that Momma wasn’t home, I pulled out my cell phone to call her. She didn’t pick up the phone, but when I heard noises coming from the back, I proceeded through the long gangway that separated one brick house from the other. When I got to the backyard, Momma was sitting on a white swinging wooden bench on the back porch. Many flowers in flowerpots surrounded her and hanging plants hung from above. Silver-framed reading glasses were sitting on top of her head that was filled with long and healthy gray hair. A magazine was on her lap and a jug of lemonade sat on the table in front of her. When she reached out for her glass, that’s when she saw me standing at the bottom stair.

  A forced smile covered her face. “Skyyyy,” she said, holding out her arms for me to come hug her. I walked up the unleveled, squeaky wooden stairs, making my way to her. She stood, and after a short hug, I took a seat on the bench next to her.

  “Why are you sitting outside?” I asked. “It’s too hot out here, isn’t it?”

  Momma fanned herself with a wicker white fan, then teasingly fanned me. “It’s hot, but we’re in the shade. Besides, it’s peaceful out here and I get tired of staying cooped up in that stuffy old house.”

  “It is rather stuffy in the summer, and let me guess: you’re not running the air conditioner, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. AmerenUE just had an increase and I’m tired of paying those high-ass electric bills. When the sun goes down, that’s when I go back inside to crack those windows and cool off.”

  “Momma, you know it only cools down to about eighty-something degrees at night. Go ahead and use your air conditioner. I’ll take care of the bill for you, okay?”

  “You know the last thing I want from you is handouts. I’m fine and my electric bill will get paid. I guess you figured I was calling you for some money, but that wasn’t the case.”

  In an effort to prevent an argument about money, I scooted forward to pour a glass of lemonade. When I sat back, Momma reached over and moved the dangling piece of hair in my face behind my ear.

  “You look nice,” she said. “I love how you wear your hair in a bun like that. It makes you look older, but I guess since you’re going to marry that older man, you have to look older than what you are.”

  Did she just insult me? I took it that way, but I was use to Momma throwing out comments to make me feel less than what I was. “I like my hair in a bun too, but I don’t wear it like this to look older. You speak as if Aaron
is walking around with a cane, and that’s not the case.”

  Momma pursed her lips a bit, then picked up her magazine. “Have you talked to Kate lately?”

  “No, I haven’t. Why?”

  “She’s been acting kind of strange lately. Every time I call her, she rushes me off the phone. It didn’t used to be like that. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “She’s probably busy taking care of Leslie and Donnell. Kids are a handful, Momma, and with Ray being in and out of town all the time, I’m sure she has her hands full.”

  “I’m sure she does. I’m so proud of my baby girl for being so strong and taking care of her family. Ray has issues, but he takes care of Kate and his kids. I wish ... Never mind. Forget it.”

  I sighed, knowing where this conversation was going. Yet again, Momma was trying to insult me and she knew that giving Kate so many praises would hurt my feelings. I didn’t mind her being proud of her daughter, but she had never said that she was proud of me. That truly hurt. I didn’t let her know it, especially since I had a feeling it would do nothing but spark an argument between us.

  “What were you going to say, Momma? Go ahead and say it.”

  She let out a deep sigh, then dropped the magazine in her lap. “I just wish I could feel the same way I did about your marriage to Aaron as I did about Kate and Ray getting married. I don’t like Aaron, and I don’t think he’s the right man for you.”

  Aaron had been nothing but nice to Momma, so how she ever came to that conclusion, I didn’t know. I defended my engagement to him and I knew it was just a matter of time before she raised my blood pressure. “Momma, I really don’t care how you feel about Aaron. He’s going to be my husband and that’s all there is to it. If you don’t want to be a part of our lives, I understand.”

  I stood and started to walk away.

  “If you didn’t care how I felt, my words wouldn’t have upset you. Look deep inside of the man you want to call your husband, Sky, and you’ll see what I do. Meanwhile, call your sister to make sure she’s okay. Report back to me when you can.”

  Momma lifted the magazine to cover her face and I walked off. After my conversation with Aaron this morning, I knew he wasn’t perfect. But after all, he was entitled to his opinion. I may not have liked it, but did I think it was enough for me to give him back his ring? No. Momma was just mad because he reminded her too much of Daddy. He had stability, always fought for what he believed in, and sometimes took an aggressive approach. She wanted a man she could tell what to do, but Daddy wasn’t that kind of man, and quite frankly, neither was Aaron.

  Instead of going back home, I drove to my sister’s house in St. Charles, Missouri. She and her husband had a beautiful two-story home, one that many people could only dream of having. A part of me was a little jealous that my younger sister had married before I did, had children before me, and had found the man of her dreams. She and Ray seemed to have the perfect life, but I knew that was because I was on the outside looking in. Kate didn’t share much of her personal life with anyone, so I wasn’t sure that if something was really going on, she would tell me. Either way, I hadn’t seen her in a while. When I called, she invited me to come over.

  The front door was already open, so I pulled on the glass door and walked in. I could smell something cooking, and when I walked into the kitchen, Kate was frying some chicken. The smell of cinnamon and peaches was in the air, so I assumed a peach cobbler was in the oven. I eyeballed the kitchen table that was set for four.

  “You got it smelling pretty good in here, girl.”

  Kate quickly turned around and smiled. “I didn’t even hear you come in,” she said, walking up to give me a hug. She kissed my cheek and I kissed hers. “Good seeing you, sis. It’s been a minute. I was starting to get worried.”

  I pointed to my chest. “Worried about me? Why would you worry about me?”

  Kate shrugged her shoulders and threw back her hand. “You know how Momma is. She’s always talking about you, and the things she says makes me worry.”

  I let out a chuckle, refusing to entertain anything my mother had said about me. I pretty much knew it was negative.

  “Changing the subject,” I said, walking over to the bay windows that viewed the entire spacious backyard where my four-year-old niece and ten-year-old nephew were playing. Donnell was climbing up the stairs on his playground, getting ready to slide down on a slide. Leslie was swinging on a swing. “How are the kids doing?”

  “They’re doing fine. Couldn’t be better.”

  I turned around and looked at Kate. “What about you? You and Ray? How are the two of you doing?”

  Just by the look in Kate’s eyes, and the pause that came before she responded, “Fine,” I could tell she wasn’t being truthful. I was never one to push, and if there was ever something she wanted to share with me, I was sure she would.

  “You know you can always talk to me, right?” I said.

  “I know, but there’s not much to talk about. The only thing I can think of is when you and Aaron are getting married. Have you started making any preparations at all? If so, how can I help?”

  Like me, Kate was good at changing the subject too. I hadn’t made any plans yet for Aaron’s and my wedding so there really wasn’t much to discuss. Either way, I stayed at Kate’s house for several hours, playing with my niece and nephew and enjoying the company of my sister. Ray didn’t show up for dinner, but by the time he came home, I was on my way out. I said a quick hello to him, and by nine-thirty that night, I was in bed thinking about Aaron, about my insulting mother, my sister who was definitely hiding something, and yes, even thinking about Lela.

  Chapter 3

  The week had been very hectic for Aaron and for me as well. I’d been busy with a client of mine who was so particular about her decorating that it was driving me nuts. I didn’t quite understand why she had contacted me to help her out, if she was the one who told me what she thought would look best. I had never walked out on any of my clients before, but after she tried to tell me that I had no taste, I left her to deal with the tacky décor she had picked out for her living room. Seeing it made me want to puke, and no matter how much money she was supposed to pay me, in no way did I want to affiliate my name with the mess she had made. Then, on top of that, Momma kept calling with her insults about Aaron. She asked about my conversation with Kate, and when I told her nothing was wrong, she didn’t believe me. Basically, she chewed me out for not knowing what was going on and said that I was not the kind of sister my little sister could be proud to look up to. Again, her words really stung, but at thirty-one, I couldn’t let the words of my mother cause any more harm to me.

  On Saturday morning, I got dressed to go to a picnic and air show at Scott Air Force Base with Aaron. He had been invited to come, and since I hadn’t seen him since Wednesday, I felt good about us spending the day together. I’d done some clerical work for him at his office on Wednesday, but things were so chaotic that we barely had a few minutes to stop and speak to each other. So many people were running in and out, but that was because Aaron had a lot of people supporting his political run for office. I definitely knew why, as he knew how to communicate with people, he made them feel as if their concerns really mattered and he was passionate about what he was doing. Even admitting that he had lied about a few things, I still couldn’t look down on him. What politician didn’t lie to get people on their side? I guess in his position, some lies had to be told.

  This time around, Aaron picked me up in his Ford Taurus. The only other car that he had was a Chevy pickup truck, but that often stayed in the driveway at his house in Fairview Heights. Once we were married, I intended to give up my penthouse to move in with him, but at this point, I was glad he hadn’t rushed me. I really didn’t want to live in Illinois, but just so he wouldn’t be disappointed, I pretended as if it would be no problem for me. Then there was a little thing called compromise. I had to do so, especially if he won the election. He couldn’t live outside
of his jurisdiction, and there was no way I wanted to be married with two homes. That situation reminded me too much of my parents, and I surely didn’t want to wind up with a marriage like theirs.

  We arrived at Scott Air Force Base at a little after noon. The base was highly secured with soldiers who asked for our driver’s licenses and requested that we get out of the car. Our licenses were checked for verification and the car was searched from front to back, as well as underneath. We received clearance to move forward and as we drove onto the base; it seemed very active. Some soldiers were to our left, running in place and doing squats. Others were running along a trail that seemed to have no end. Housing complexes could be seen at a distance and what looked to be a fitness center was close by. I couldn’t believe that everything was designed like one big community. The entire place was heavily guarded, if not by soldiers, by high fences and cameras. I felt completely safe, until I learned from Aaron that the air show consisted of soldiers in training who would be flying for the first time.

  “Tell me again why I’m here,” I said sarcastically. “This could be interesting to watch, but also pretty dangerous.”

  Aaron parked and looked over at me. “Trust me, you’ll have a wonderful time. Just make sure you wear those earplugs I gave you earlier, as things will get pretty loud.”

  I tucked the earplugs in my purse and we headed toward the section of the base where the air show was taking place. Crowds of people stood around, waiting for the captains to complete the pre-flight aircraft checks, prior to take off. I was very much tuned in, and as soon as the first aircraft left the ground, I covered my ears. It was so loud that I thought my eardrums had busted. One after another, the pilots flew the jets into the air, putting on one hell of a show that impressed us all. I was in awe, and by the look on Aaron’s face, so was he. We didn’t walk away until the show was completely finished and it ended with plenty of whistles and applause.