“Yes!” Owen said, his eyes wide. “Exactly. I don’t want to keep this secret from my parents anymore, but it just feels like… such a production to tell them.”
I shrugged. “All you’ve got to do is be honest,” I said.
He nodded again. “You’re right. You’re exactly right. Honesty, best policy, yadda yadda.”
I smiled, pulling him close to me again. “I love you to the end of the earth,” I said.
“I have the best boyfriend in the world, don’t I?” he said, kissing me.
“I think I win that prize,” I said.
A half hour later, we were sitting down for dinner. A veritable feast of grilled chicken, salad, roasted potatoes, and fresh fruit was on the table.
“Go ahead, eat, eat!” Ruth said, and we began. It didn’t take long at all for Ruth to steer the conversation toward Megan, asking how she’d been doing.
“Things are great for me,” Megan said. “Do you remember Henry, from the beach?”
“Of course,” Jim said, cutting a piece of chicken. “Good boy, that Henry.”
She smiled slowly. “Well, I agree. I’ve been seeing him, actually. It’s long distance for now—he’s in Boston; I’m in New York. But things are… getting pretty serious, actually. He’s floated the idea of moving to be closer, someday.”
“Wow,” Ruth said, chewing on a bite of salad. “Well, that’s great, Megan.”
“I’m certainly happy,” she said.
There was a brief awkward pause at the table, the only sounds the clink of forks on plates and the soft jazz radio Ruth had turned on in the background.
“Well,” Ruth finally said, a smile plastered on her face. “I am happy for you, Megan. Now we just need to find Owen a date—hah!”
She laughed to fill the silence, but no one else did.
“Mom, can you stop trying to set me up?” Owen said gently.
“Oh, I’m not trying to set you up,” Ruth said, waving him off. “I just… I just want the best for you, and you’d make such a great boyfriend to a lucky girl, and—”
I saw Owen take a deep breath, and I knew that he was gearing up for his moment. He opened his mouth twice and closed it, like he was trying to get the words out but couldn’t.
“Actually, Mom, I—” he said, “I wanted to tell you something about that. I—”
He paused for a second, collecting his thoughts and breathing in.
Just then, a loud ding-dong sound echoed through the house.
“Doorbell?” Megan asked.
“Who would be here at this time of the day?” Jim asked, his brow furrowed.
Ruth laid her napkin onto the table. “Well, let me go see who it is—might be someone who needs help.”
Owen was bright red, looking down at his plate. He scrubbed his hands over his face for a moment before finally catching my gaze, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.
“Sorry,” he mouthed to me, and I could see the defeat in his eyes.
“Ethel! Oh, Ethel, how are you?” I heard Ruth saying from the front door. “Toby is out now? You can’t find him, oh—hold on one moment, Ethel, dear.”
Ruth came back to the kitchen, giving us all an annoyed look. “Old Lady Ethel from next door apparently had one of her cats escape.”
“Honey, I see Toby outside roaming around all the time,” Jim said, shaking his head. “That cat may as well be an outdoor cat. Why does Ethel choose now to care about it?”
“Oh, Jim, she’s just an old, lonely woman,” Ruth said.
“Ruth? Dear?” I heard the old woman’s voice coming from the front of the house. A moment later, she had hobbled up to the kitchen entryway and was smiling and squinting at all of us, one hand resting on her cane.
“Oh, how marvelous this dinner looks!” Ethel proclaimed, her eyes scanning over the chicken. “Ruth, you always do cook the best things. Do you remember—that strange little fruit pie you brought me once—”
“Yes, the persimmon pie,” Ruth said, smiling politely as she walked back over to Ethel.
“Persimmon, yes. Who would think to make a pie with those? It was good, though, dear. Don’t suppose you made that for dinner tonight?” Ethel laughed feebly.
“No, no,” Ruth said, “just strawberries and raspberries for us tonight.”
“Oh, I do love strawberries—I used to pick them as a little girl. Well, I suppose I should get going… I’m sure I have some old frozen Salisbury steak at the bottom of my freezer… if I can bend down to reach it, that is… these new refrigerators with the bottom drawer freezer do so bother me… can’t get the thing open! I’m sure Toby will run along home soon enough….”
Ruth turned to give all of us a look that said I’m so sorry. And then she proceeded to say to Ethel: “Well, we do have room for one more, I’m sure—Ethel, you can go ahead and join us for the rest of dinner, if you’d like?”
“Oh!” Ethel said, her eyes widening as much as her wrinkles would allow. “Oh, what a lovely offer, dear Ruth! Yes, yes, of course—pull up a chair—but do make sure it has a cushion on the bottom, not one of those hard chairs. They aren’t good for my coccyx, those.”
As Ruth rustled around in the dining room for a spare chair, Jim, Megan, Owen, and I all shared glances with each other, dripping with sympathy.
But Owen, most of all, looked crushed. He was meant to have his big moment over dinner, to come out, to tell his parents we were boyfriends. Now, it would have to wait.
“No, not that chair!” We heard Ethel cry out from the dining room.
“She’s a sweet lady,” Jim said under his breath, nodding as he pushed his food around his plate.
“Clearly, so sweet,” Megan said.
Another thirty minutes later, we had learned all of the latest gossip about Old Lady Ethel’s bingo group. Apparently, they had a cheater in their midst, and Ethel couldn’t pin down if it was a man named Martin or a woman named Mildred.
When dinner had wrapped up and we’d all had our fill of fresh fruit and whipped cream, I thought the end was in sight. But then Ethel spoke up, wanting to extend her stay.
“Oh, everyone—wouldn’t you like to play a quick game of cards?”
Ruth spoke too quickly. “Sure, Ethel. I think we could play one or two rounds.”
As Ruth shakily pulled out a worn pack of cards from her cardigan pocket, Owen gave me a look that was nothing but stone-cold anger.
“You know what, Ethel, I think it actually might be time for you to head home. Don’t you have Toby to look for?”
“Owen—” Ruth whispered at him, fiercely glaring.
“Oh, Toby will be alright, I’m sure,” Ethel said with a smile, dumping the pack of cards out onto the table.
“Well, Ethel, I actually had something I wanted to discuss with my parents, tonight.”
“Oh, honey, you can discuss anything with Ethel here, too,” Ruth said.
“Sure, dear—Ollie, say what you feel,” Ethel said.
“It’s Owen, not Ollie,” he said back at her, his voice strained.
“Oh, that’s right,” Ethel said, laughing. “Now, everyone take three cards—”
“Mom, there is something I need to tell you,” Owen said through gritted teeth.
“Sweetie, what is it?” Ruth said.
I could see Owen’s face reddening, could see the irritation written all over his face.
“You know what? Fine,” he said, shrugging. “Mom, Dad—what I wanted to tell you—what we wanted to tell you—is that Max and I are dating.”
The table fell silent for a moment. Ethel’s eyes traveled over toward Owen. My heart was beating a million times a minute.
“Always good for young boys to get out and date, yes,” she said.
“No. We are dating each other,” Owen said, not a hint of shame in his voice. “Max and I are a homosexual couple—we are boyfriends. And I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, since the beach house, really, and it’s been killing me to keep it inside. But I love Max with all of
my goddamn heart.”
Ethel shrugged, still organizing the playing cards in front of her. Ruth’s eyes were wide as she stared at Owen, and Jim popped another strawberry into his mouth.
“Well, I’d certainly hope so,” Jim said. “I saw you two kissing out of the side window earlier tonight, and I hoped Max wasn’t just taking advantage of my boy.”
I met Owen’s eyes. Then we both looked to Jim in disbelief. He winked at us, then gave a little smile.
I’d never seen Owen’s jaw drop so far. “Wait—Dad—you… saw? And you didn’t… you didn’t care? Or even say anything?”
Jim shrugged. “Not my business,” he said.
“That’s right,” Ethel said with a wobbly nod. “That’s what I said to my best friend Charlie back in secondary school. He’d go on and on about the attractive men he wanted to sleep with—even went so far as telling me about their penis size! But I would just tell him to keep that business between him and his partners. Oh, old Charlie. He was the best friend I ever had.”
Suddenly a cry shot out from the other side of the table, and I turned to see that Ruth was weeping.
“Oh God, Mom,” Owen said, standing quickly and going to her side. He hugged her from the side, holding her tight. “It’s okay, Mom.”
“I know,” Ruth said in between sobs. “Oh, baby, my baby finally is in love,” she said. “I’m so happy for you I could cry!”
“I think you are,” Owen said, laughing.
“Oh, hush,” Ruth said, pulling in a shaky breath. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I… I thought…” Owen said. “I thought you wanted me to be with Megan, honestly. I thought I was going to break your heart.”
“Ridiculous, sweetie,” Ruth said, shaking her head and dabbing her eyes with a napkin. “I just wanted you to find someone! I thought it would be Megan, but… I was wrong, apparently. If you’ve found love, then you’ve found it, though.”
Ruth looked to me with big, watery eyes. “Oh, come here already, Max!” I went to her side, and she gripped me in a big bear hug. “Now, you’re not exempt from all the things I would have done with Owen’s girlfriend. I want to go to lunch with you, go shopping with you… all that.”
I laughed. I felt like all of the stress that had built in me for so long—since the beach trip—was melting away like wax from a candle. I couldn’t believe how this was going.
“To think, I have two gay sons,” Jim said, laughing and shrugging.
“Dad, I’m not gay,” Owen said, rolling his eyes. “Bisexual, I guess.”
Jim shrugged. “I’m really happy for you, son,” he said.
“Won’t you all settle down so I can teach you how to play this game?” Ethel said, glaring at us.
“Ethel! Give us a moment!” Ruth cried out, finally standing up against Ethel’s demands.
Ethel silenced quickly, sighing and shaking her head. “No one is too gay to learn a card game,” she muttered, and I had to muffle my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
Finally, I went over to Owen and pulled him into a tight hug.
“We did it,” he whispered in my ear while Ethel prattled on behind us to the rest of the family.
“You did it,” I whispered back.
“I love you so much,” he said. “I can’t fucking wait to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
“You already are,” I said. “You’ve always been my one and only, Owen.”
“I hope I always will be.”
I knew then that we would be able to get through anything together—that our love was more important than any petty problem that might come our way. I couldn’t wait to live with Owen again. Couldn’t wait to begin the rest of our lives.
Epilogue
Owen, One Year Later
“So, what do you think—” I said, tipping my graduation cap down slightly, then bringing it back up. “Do I go with the mysterious, over-the-eye look, or the classic, bright and happy graduation one?”
“I like mysterious, but go with classic,” Max said, grinning. “Your mom will kill you, otherwise.”
“You’re right about that,” I said. “God, the cap and gown are hot, though,” I said, tossing it off to the bed and leaning in to kiss Max. He held me close, centering me, like he always did.
“I know I’ve told you this a million times, but, good God, I am so proud of you, baby,” Max said, shaking his head slowly. “You fucking did it. Later today, you’ll be the recipient of a Psychology bachelor’s degree.”
I took in a long breath. “I know. Two years ago, I would have thought this was impossible for someone like me. But… here I am, in love and well educated.”
Max laughed, pressing another kiss to my lips. “And educated in the ways of love,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Cheesy, Max.”
“You know you love it,” he said.
“We should probably get going,” I said, looking at the time on my phone. “They told us we have to be at graduation an hour early, and I’m sure if I missed my own graduation my mom would have a fit.”
“Let’s get on out there,” Max said, standing up and grabbing his keys.
It didn’t really hit me that I was graduating from college—finally, at age twenty-seven—until they called my name, later that day, and I went to shake the hand of the Dean and the head of the department. When I got back to my seat, I peeked in at the little folder they’d given me, and there it was: Owen Davis, Bachelor of Arts in Psychology.
A part of my journey was over. And I could remember so clearly how scared I had been a year ago, when I’d finally decided I was going to do it.
But going back to college had been nothing like what it was when I’d first started. There was no crazy partying, no drugs, no monstrous distractions. I tried hard. I put in the effort because I wanted it more than anything in the world—not because I thought that I had to.
And what a difference it had made. For the first time in my life, I had earned straight A’s for an entire year. And just a few weeks ago, I had learned that my application to a Master’s program in counseling had been accepted.
I was actually living the life I wanted. It was almost too good to believe.
And over the past year, my relationship with Max had been incredible. I had never been in such a stable, loving relationship before—but more than that, our relationship just felt like an extension of our friendship.
I loved Max because I’d always loved Max. I felt comfortable around him because that’s how it had been from day one.
Nothing felt scary. Nothing felt wrong. And when we began introducing ourselves as a couple, it felt as natural as sliding into a bath. We made sense together. And I finally felt like I deserved him.
“Now this one is called a Catamaran Hideout,” Taran said, presenting me with a large tray of multicolored drinks. “It has fizzy grapefruit juice, rosemary essence, honey, and the slightest, barely there amount of nutmeg.”
“Holy shit,” I said, picking up one of the nonalcoholic cocktails. “Taran, you’re a wizard.”
“Any good bartender worth their salt should know how to make a kick-ass virgin cocktail. Make sure you try all of them,” he said before heading off to offer other people their drinks.
Patrick, Taran, Max, and Megan had planned my graduation party in secret over the past few weeks, and now we were all in our apartment. I’d never seen so many people in the small space ever since I stopped drinking.
It felt incredible—a way to celebrate without constantly worrying about the way I used to be. My whole family was here, Max’s family was here, and various friends from the city and Rose Falls that Patrick and Taran had invited along. I wandered around the room all night, saying hello to people I hadn’t seen in over a year.
For once, everyone was proud of me, and I was able to be proud of myself, too. Every time I caught Max’s eyes from across the room, my heart would soar.
How did I get so lucky? I would think, almost every time I sa
w him.
Megan and Henry came up behind me, and I gave them each a big hug.
“Megan, this is incredible,” I said. “You know how to plan a damn party.”
“Well, Taran was the real mastermind, here,” she said. “If the man didn’t own bars, I swear I’d tell him he had a calling in event planning.”
“I love it,” I said, squeezing her arm.
Her eyes grew a little sad. “Well,” she said, “now that we won’t be living together for much longer, I knew we should do something special.”
In a couple months, Megan was moving out—to move in with Henry. He was planning to relocate to New York, and for the first time in their adult lives, Megan and Max weren’t going to be roommates anymore.
It was bittersweet. I was going to be able to live on my own with Max, which was a dream come true, but I knew that Megan living elsewhere was going to be a tough transition.
“You’re only going to be a train ride away,” I said, giving her a serious look.
“I know. Brooklyn isn’t too far,” she said.
“And hell, eventually I’m sure Max and I will have to move there, too,” I said. “Rent isn’t exactly going down in Manhattan.”
“Yes!” Megan said, beaming. “Come follow us to Brooklyn. We’ll do all the hard work of finding the best restaurants and coffee in the neighborhood, and in a year or two when you guys move there, you’ll be all set.”
I laughed, leaning in to give Megan another hug.
Just then, I heard a clinking of a glass from the front of the living room, near the kitchen. When I looked over, I was shocked to see that Max was standing there, looking around the room while everyone quieted down.
“Holy shit, Max is going to say something?” Megan whispered. “He hates public speaking.”
“I know,” I said. I could remember countless times in school when Max had to do presentations and would be stressed for weeks leading up to them—of course, he always did amazingly well, but the man did not enjoy a public speech.
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