Dreams and Expectations

by Susan Laine

  Staring at the remorseful expression on his best friend’s face, Nick debated inwardly whether he could believe Tom’s claims or not. His memory fought back, declining to take Tom’s word for it, only focusing on the hateful term.

  But his heart, the little piece of flesh and blood that continued to feel drawn to Tom as a friend, as a man, and… more, abstained from giving in to fear, doubt, and spite.

  “Remember Aaron, my cousin?” Nick asked, wavering between two mutually exclusive options. When Tom nodded, Nick sighed. “He’s gay.”

  Tom’s frown cleared, and he nodded again. “I see. Look, Nick, I swear I’m not a bigot or a racist. I don’t know how to convince you of that, but it’s true. I respect gays. I know you draw that yaoi webcomic, and I absolutely adore it.” He paused briefly and inhaled, as if bracing himself for a big declaration. “I adore you, Nicky. You’re my best friend. I really hope that hasn’t changed. If I screwed that up….”

  Tom’s shrug might have looked casual and indifferent, but judging from the worry in his eyes, he took this seriously. His anxiety didn’t appear fake. But could Nick trust it? Could he trust Tom? Nick could have sworn earlier that he knew every facet of his best friend. But recent events had shown him how erroneous his perception was.

  Nick understood that if he really wanted to be sure where Tom stood when it came to gays and lesbians and all that, he’d have to expose an undeniable fact he couldn’t ignore. His true feelings would surely manifest then. He’d have to take a stand, choose a side.

  After a deep, calming breath, Nick confessed, “I’m gay.”

  Later he was proud of how his voice didn’t shiver or crack once. But his heart beat a rapid rhythm, threatening to either deafen him or burst out of his chest like an alien.

  Tom tilted his head, almost like a bird listening to sounds far away. Then he blinked as if he couldn’t quite absorb the news. He licked his lips nervously and continued to stare at Nick.

  “Um… since when?”

  Nick shrugged. “Since forever. Always. I just haven’t ever given it serious thought. I’m not an easily excitable person. I don’t see a girl or guy and automatically think they’re hot or want to sleep with them. That’s never been me.”

  “That doesn’t make you… gay.”

  The slight hitch in Tom’s breathing, the minor pause before he used the word, it sent all of Nick’s doubts and insecurities into overdrive. Despite Tom trying hard to convince Nick he was cool with the whole thing, Nick now knew he wasn’t. He knew it with absolute certainty.

  And his heart broke all over again.

  “I am gay, Tom. You can spin it whichever way you want. That won’t change the facts.” He locked gazes with his best friend. “I think we both need time to process. I… I’ll understand if you don’t call me, like, ever again.”

  Tom’s frown deepened, the lines of his face hardened, and a cold light appeared in his blue eyes. “I see.” He sounded detached and emotionless. Another thing Nick had never experienced until now, and he hated it. Tom walked backward toward the stairs. “Fine. Guess I’ll see you… later, or whatever.”

  Then he turned around, headed down the stairs, and disappeared out of sight. But not out of mind. Nick had to grip the doorframe to steady himself and lock his knees so he wouldn’t fall down in more ways than one.

  Guess he had his answer after all. Tom hadn’t offered any explanations, only evasions and indifference. And he sure as shit hadn’t offered any support or acceptance. Nick knew he’d dropped a bombshell on Tom, and perhaps time would mend all wounds. But deep down he doubted that any kind of positive outcome was possible.

  Nick had come out to his best friend, even in the face of hate. He was proud of himself.

  So why did he feel like his whole world had collapsed around him?

  Chapter 3

  “ISN’T TOM going to stay for lunch?” Grandma asked while filling Nick’s plate with a load of steamed vegetables. She didn’t sound worried, so she probably didn’t have a clue about the birth of the rift between Nick and his best friend.

  “Nah. He had to go.” Nick decided being vague and stuffing his mouth full of food would be enough to distract her.

  Grandma sat on the opposite side of the table and ate slowly. Her beef casserole tasted nice, so Nick planned on thanking her as soon as he’d swallowed his next bite. But Grandma beat him to the punch.

  “Were you two shouting? I thought I heard raised voices.”

  Nick ducked his head and chewed as slowly as he could. He knew she wouldn’t like him to talk with his mouth full. It was a delay tactic, and she’d catch on soon.

  Finally he caved. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry or upset you.”

  Grandma didn’t look at him. She swiped her long white hair behind her ear and continued to eat her meal and drink her milk. Then she paused and met his gaze. Like Mona Lisa, she was tough to interpret, her expression deadpan. But she said nothing.

  She didn’t need to. Her gaze spoke volumes.

  “Uh…. Tom and me—I mean, Tom and I… we had an argument.”

  Now Grandma looked concerned. Nick was remorseful because he knew she liked Tom a lot. “What did you boys fight about? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you two quarrel before.”

  Nick’s cheeks burned. He’d never talked about this stuff with his grandmother. Coming out to his parents was one thing, but Grandma was a different generation. Nick didn’t want to cause her distress, but he also couldn’t lie to her. He never had. He still feared what she would think about him now.

  “We argued about a… a word. A bad word. A hateful word. Then I… I came out to him. It didn’t go well. I can’t tell how he feels about me now. We’re taking a break. I’m afraid I’ll never see him again.”

  Nick’s vision blurred as a watery veil filled his eyes. He blinked, but his heart weighed heavy in his chest, so much so that he couldn’t dispel the tears entirely.

  Grandma took his hand across the table, her touch warm and empathetic, her skin dry and wrinkly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Maybe he’ll come around. You two have known each other too long for something like this to draw you apart. Give him time.”

  Nick was relieved she didn’t ask him what the hateful word was. Perhaps she already had an inkling. She’d always been wise. Most of all, though, Nick was overjoyed that she seemed to still love him, even if he was gay.

  “There was more than a word, Grandma,” Nick confessed, wanting someone to know what he’d seen, even if Tom’s dad buried the whole incident. “Bill Little saw me and Tom up on the hill, and he started talking trash. Tom… hit him.”

  Grandma’s brown eyes flashed with fire. “Is that so?”

  Nick jumped in to defend his best friend purely on instinct. “Bill used the bad word first.”

  “But he didn’t hit Tom or you?”

  “No, Grandma.” Nick exhaled deep, slumping. “I don’t think he would. But verbal abuse is serious too, isn’t it? It’s like… emotional violence. Mom’s always said it’s not okay and that no one needs to accept it as part of life, or whatever, like it’s inevitable.”

  Grandma nodded slowly, her gaze drifting away but her touch remaining. “She has a point, it’s true. Abuse and bullying come in many forms. None of them are okay.”

  “But…,” Nick finished for her, “you think more along the lines of… sticks and stones.”

  Grandma closed her eyes briefly. “Ah, well. The world has changed. The kind of violence you kids have to endure these days…. There’s a whole other level to bullying now with humiliation in public, stalking on the net, indifference of or even goading by adults, and so on. I used to think words couldn’t hurt. But not anymore.”

  Nick gulped, reminiscing on having this exact exchange with Tom a while back. “Yeah, I know. Words have power. They’re not meaningless.”

  “So Tom used the bad word too, then?” Grandma asked, cutting to the gist of it with perceptive clarity.

  “Yeah.” Nick played w
ith his food, shoving lumps around on the plate with his fork, most of it absentmindedly. “It’s not just the word. It was the way he used it. The way he said it. With so much hate. It was vicious and hostile.”

  “Tom never seemed malicious to me,” Grandma noted, her tone softening.

  Nick was grateful for the reminder. That was the thing, he knew, the duality and conflict in Tom, how he could appear to have two such differing personalities. Had it been just an act as Tom had claimed, or were there more sinister, nefarious forces of the heart at play?

  “No, not to me either,” Nick admitted, his voice gaining a bitter edge. “But he never used to hit people. And… I’ve never come out to him, or anyone, before either.”

  Grandma patted his hand gently and smiled a little. “Don’t you worry, Nicky. I’m sure it’ll all work out. Tom will see the light, and you’ll be best friends again soon enough.”

  Nick had to admire Grandma’s optimism, but he wasn’t sure if he shared the sentiment. He could always hope. No one could rob him of hope. But good fortune didn’t seem to be a constant in life, love, friendships, or much of anything. That was the stuff of fiction, not real life.

  “As for your parents…,” Grandma started, her tone serious.

  A lump the size of a mountain lodged in Nick’s throat. Could he lose his family over this too? Dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

  Grandma’s smile warmed Nick’s heart, though. “Come now. They’re scientists, darling. They understand you were born this way. And they’ll accept you as you are—or they’ll have to deal with me. I’m badass with a rolling pin.”

  She playfully shook her fist in front of him, trying to look fierce and dangerous. But since she was a tiny, plump woman with an everpresent smile on her face, the expression didn’t come off as ominous. Nick chuckled, his fears alleviated. A weight lifted off his shoulders he hadn’t even realized had been there.

  “Have you heard from them?” Nick asked, fishing out his cell phone to check for messages, but he had no calls, no texts, no emails, and no voicemails.

  As scientists, Nick’s parents traveled across the globe, doing research on various projects. Sometimes they were gone a few weeks, other times nine months to a year. When Nick had been a kid, he’d moved with them to exotic locations, strange cities, and beautiful countries. But when he started school, his parents figured a more stable environment was better. And that was how young Nick ended up back in Sandpoint, the origin of his people, in the care of his grandmother.

  Grandma was great. She was well versed in the lore of the Kalispel, and she was a kind and courteous person. Nick loved being raised by her. But that didn’t mean Nick didn’t miss his parents and wish they were around more.

  Tom had filled a void in Nick’s heart. His best friend had shown him love beyond family, thus becoming family in everything but blood.

  Now all that was history. Maybe.

  “Listen, honey. Instead of shoveling that food back and forth on that plate, how about you make a call to your parents? I’m sure they’d love to hear from you.” Grandma patted Nick’s hand again and then withdrew, resuming her dining.

  “Thanks,” Nick declared with sincere gratitude. “You always know what to say.”

  Grandma’s sun-kissed cheeks pinked, and she ducked her head, appearing coy. Her smile was as radiant as ever. “Go on now. Shoo.”

  “I’ll eat the rest later, okay? Just microwave it. So don’t put it—”

  Grandma scoffed. “Put good food where? In the trash? Not a chance. And I’ll make sure you eat your lunch—sooner or later.” Her whimsical glare only made Nick laugh.

  He dashed upstairs to his room and onto his laptop. As he booted it up, he checked his phone again. No messages—from his parents or from Tom. Both silences sucked. Nick sighed, his mood sinking again. Talking about his folks usually made him at once sad and glad. Tom always found a way to uplift Nick. Now….

  Then again, Tom didn’t exist for the sole purpose of making Nick’s life easier or better. He had his own goals, his own dreams, his own… issues. Nick had front-row seats for Tom and his dad clashing on occasion, mostly about Tom’s mom, her death, and everything related to her.

  Tom didn’t love his dad anymore. It was hard to love someone who didn’t love you back. Worse when it was a parent, who should have loved their child unconditionally. Charles did not behave that way; he never did anything unconditionally.

  At first Tom had tried to prove himself and his worth to his dad. But nothing impressed the man. Certainly none of the things Tom valued.

  Nick felt for Tom, wanting to hug and console his best friend and tell him he mattered even if his father didn’t believe that. But he couldn’t while he and Tom were on the outs.

  Perhaps a talk with his own parents would do the trick, Nick figured, with an effort to be upbeat. So he opened the FaceTime app on his phone and called his folks. His mom worked for the Great Lakes Environmental Research Laboratory of NOAA and was stationed at the Lake Michigan Field Station. His dad had a position with the International Dendrological Research Institute and was working out of the Denver Botanic Gardens. Both were in the field a lot, out of office, so Nick wasn’t certain he’d be able to reach either one. They had cell phones and even old-fashioned pagers, but….

  A mussed-up head of long brown hair appeared in front of the camera, round glasses tilted precariously on the man’s nose. An already huge smile widened as he recognized his son. “Nicky! Hey. Didn’t know you’d be calling today. Did I miss a scheduled—”

  “No, Dad, no. Just wanted to call and say hi. So… hi.” Nick waved at the camera.

  Braden chuckled and shoved stacks of books aside. “Hi. Good to hear from you. I’ve just been writing up an online geosciences class for the Mountain Studies of the University of Montana. They invited me to present a study on Rocky Mountain trees to them. I’ve been swamped, but it’s an honor to be asked, of course, and—”

  “Dad, is Mom going to join us for a conference call?” Nick interrupted his dad’s rambling reply.

  “Oh. Um….” Braden threaded a hand through his scruffy hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, to be honest. I think Leona’s out on Lake Huron today with a group of—”

  “Okay. Thanks, Dad. Listen, I….” Nick hesitated briefly, then found courage within and proclaimed, “I’m gay…. Sorry.”

  Surprisingly, Braden chuckled, his low laugh familiar. “I know that, Nicky. What is it? Has someone told you being gay is wrong? Because it’s not. You’re perfect the way you are.”

  Nick’s heart swelled, and his eyes filled with unshed tears. “Th-thanks, Dad. Love you.” Then he just had to ask, “How did you know I’m gay? I just sort of figured it out myself.”

  “Your googly eyes at Tom were a pretty big clue, Son.” Braden’s words sent a shockwave through Nick. Had he really been so obvious? Then how come Tom had never said anything, or was he blind? “Nicky? You love who you love, so be with who you want to be with. Your mom and I will support you, same as always.”

  Nick had to grip his phone tighter or drop it as his hands shook. His father’s perceptiveness wasn’t surprising per se. Both Braden and Leona were Native American. The views of the Kalispel on homosexuality recognized people born with a spirit differing from their physical bodies. These two-spirits were revered and seen as normal.

  When European Christians invaded the country with their homophobic bigotry, however, they had turned natural proclivities into obscenities. Two-spirits were condemned by missionaries, the government, eventually even their own communities. People were forced to conform to a single gender or sex. Many went underground or committed suicide.

  The shadow of those prejudices inflicted by Christians still permeated Native American cultures today. Christianity had a lot to answer for. Thankfully a positive change since the ’60s had gradually begun to pave the way for two-spirits to regain their former status, although some of the old bigotries remained in some quarters.

/>   Braden and Leona had already broken from tribal expectations by becoming scientists, so it made sense they’d be among those accepting of alternative orientations. Nick was grateful for having great parents who valued facts over faith, science over religion, and love over hate.

  “I don’t know if I’m a two-spirit, Dad,” Nick mumbled, wondering what identity he would develop as time passed. He felt like a work in progress. “I don’t feel like a girl in a boy’s body.”

  “Oh, Nicky, sexuality and identity aren’t that rigid,” Braden remarked wisely. “You don’t have to behave or be like a woman to love a man. Two-spirits typically retain elements of both the masculine and the feminine, but what the concept basically does is acknowledge there’s a sexual spectrum of various forms and stages. Don’t be too hasty in finding a label to slap on or a niche to fit in. Explore your desires; search your feelings; discover who you are at heart. The answers will come if you give yourself time.”

  Nick swallowed hard. Grandma’s advice about giving Tom some space sounded similar. Yes, perhaps that was what they all needed: time and space to resolve their issues. Too bad they couldn’t do that together anymore.

  “So what else have you been up to?” Braden asked. Nick heard the smile in his voice.

  “Well, yesterday I….” Nick went on to tell his dad every little thing that had happened in the last couple of days. Who knew when he’d get the chance to talk to his father again? Everything else could wait. Even his fight with Tom.

  Chapter 4

  “ARE YOU slamming doors, Tommy?” Charles hollered from downstairs, his stern voice a bit muffled by the closed door.

  Tom gritted his teeth, opened his bedroom door a crack, and yelled back, “Sorry, Dad.”

  No answer came. If his father really was angry, he would have made it known. Tom knew that with absolute certainty. Since no further words were exchanged, Charles merely wanted Tom to cut the noise.