by Kelsey Hodge
“What’s going on?”
“I need time to think. I can’t do that here. I’m going to stay at Liam’s.” He still isn’t looking at me as he says this to the floor.
“For how long?”
The look of sadness on his face causes my heart to crack and when he says, “I don’t know,” it shatters. I crumple to the floor, and before I have the chance to say anything, I hear the door open and then close with such a finality. I instantly feel my heart break, and the tears start.
I have no idea how long I spend on the floor before I move, but I notice it’s getting dark. A chill has entered my bones from sitting in one position too long. I sit up to bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I still cannot believe what happened. Even when given a chance, I don’t tell him everything. Then it dawns on me… if I want Wyatt to come back, the truth needs to be told, and that includes my family.
With new determination, I get up from the floor and brush myself off. I pull out my phone and call Frank.
“Pick up from my place in five minutes.”
This causes me to stop mid-step, as I realize I’ve fallen into typical Romano behavior. I need to change this too. I make my way into the bedroom and change into some smart black chinos and a plain white shirt. I slip my phone into the pocket of my pants, grab the apartment keys, and make my way downstairs. I’m outside as Frank pulls up, so I make the first change.
“Thanks, Frank, right on time. I’d like to go to my parents’ house please.” The look on his face is priceless. I’m not sure if anyone in my family has said please when asking to be taken somewhere. I also open the back door of the car myself before he has a chance and slide in, which he isn’t too happy about. He says nothing and makes his way around to the driver’s seat.
Once we’re on the way, I decide to tell Frank something is about to happen, as I have a feeling it won’t go down well.
“Hey Frank.” He looks in the rear-view mirror, meeting my eyes, with a hint of shock in the friendly greeting. “I have to tell my parents something tonight, and they won’t like it. Is there a chance you can stay close in case I need to leave quickly?”
For a split second, I think I see a look of understanding, but it vanishes before I can pinpoint what it is, and his eyes leave mine to focus back on the road in front of him. In all the car journeys we’ve shared together, we’ve never talked. We haven’t discussed our days and for the first time, I realize I have no idea if Frank is married or single and if he has a family. Suddenly, I want to know.
“Frank, are you married? Single? Do you have a family?”
Looking back at me, with humor in his eyes, he asks, “Why all the questions?”
“You’ve been my driver for years, and I know nothing about you. That seems… wrong.”
“That’s true, but why the sudden interest??”
“Because times need to change. I’ve decided that I don’t want to be like my dad. Cold to everyone other than family. An employer should be more than that.”
The look on Frank’s face is priceless—a mixture of shock, humor, and something else. If I had to put a name to it, I would say it’s pride. I’m doing the right thing.
With a smile on his face, Frank says, “I was married and have two grown children.” He doesn’t say anything more, and I don’t push for any more information. Not today anyway.
We remain silent for the rest of the car ride, and all too soon, I’m pulling up outside my parents’ brownstone. I stay in the car for several minutes, and I notice Frank stays put too. I look at the house and think. In the next few hours, everything will change. I’m suddenly scared. My dad isn’t someone to cross, and my mother has always stuck by his side. The news I’m about to deliver will break them, and this scares me the most. I have no idea what they’ll do. The best I can hope for is banishment from the family, but there’s that small fear at the pit of my stomach that they might do worse, but being gay isn’t worth anything more than that. I hope anyway.
I open the car door and move to get out. When I look around, Frank is there holding the door and looks me in the eye before saying, “I think I know what you’re about to do, and it’s important. Good luck, and I won’t be far away.”
I’m taken back by this and reply, “Thank you.”
I turn towards the house and look up. My parents’ home has changed much over the years. The front stone steps with the ornate rails lead up to the black double doors. I make my way up the front steps to the front door and pause outside. Taking another deep breath, I open the door and make my way inside. Opening the inner door, I call out, “Hello!”
Almost instantly, I hear my mother respond, “Lorenzo, is that you? I’m in the kitchen.”
The kitchen is in the back of the house, so I make my way past the stairs and head that way. I stop in the doorway and spot my mother at the stove, stirring a big pot of something. The scent of tomatoes and spices hits my nose. It’s her pasta sauce. A smile spreads across my face. This must be one of my favorite smells and always reminds me of my childhood and happier times before I knew what my family business was.
“Hey Mom.”
My mother turns to me with a massive smile on her face. “Lorenzo, what a lovely surprise. What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you and Dad. Is he home?”
“He’s due home any minute. You want to stay for dinner?”
“Yeah, Mom. That would be nice.” I sit at the dinner table in the kitchen’s corner. As I sit on one of the four wooden chairs, I suddenly hear a voice in the back of my mind telling me this could be the last meal of my mother’s that I have. I need to savor it.
“What did you want to talk to us about?” The question from my mother pulls me out of my thoughts, and I shake my head to clear my head before answering.
“Can we wait for Dad to arrive and have dinner first?”
I get a strange look from my mother before she answers, “If that’s what you want, but aren’t you even going to give me a clue?”
“I want Dad to be here before I say anything.”
Just as I finish answering, I hear the front door open and the distinct sounds of Dad’s footsteps coming down the hall towards the kitchen. My nervousness increases tenfold, and I feel my palms getting sweaty. I quickly wipe them on my pants. Dad stops in the doorway, spots me sat in the corner, and smiles.
“Lorenzo, what a surprise! We weren’t expecting you tonight.”
“Yeah, I know, Dad. I wanted to talk to you and Mom. She invited me to stay for dinner.”
“What did you want to talk about? Anything important?”
“Let’s eat first then talk. Okay, Dad?”
I’m avoiding the conversation. It would be so easy for me to say, “Mom, Dad, I’m gay,” and wait for the fallout, but I suddenly want this meal. I want to have the memory of my mom’s food, of being together. I know, in the pit of my stomach, once I tell them, everything changes.
As I’m thinking this, I hear the front door open again, and my brother’s voice shouting, “Hey Ma.” Tonight has suddenly turned into the last family meal.
“I wonder what I did to deserve this. Both of my sons are surprising me,” Mom states to anyone in the kitchen who will hear her.
Marco walks in the kitchen and cannot hide the surprise on his face when he spots me sitting at the table. I can’t help but chuckle too. It’s rare for me to be visiting on a weeknight.
“Lorenzo, is that actually you? You know it’s the middle of the week, right?”
“You’re hilarious, Marco. I wanted to talk to Mom and Dad. What’s your excuse? No food in the apartment or do you have laundry that you want Ma to do?”
“Haha, Lorenzo. You’re so funny… not.”
“Boys, stop it,” Mom says, giving us both a look.
Marco and I burst out laughing. We always wind each other up. It’s something we do. We never mean anything by it, just brothers being brothers.
Looking at Marco, I ask, “So,
are you going to tell us why you’re here?”
With a very sheepish look on his face, he answers, “No food and laundry.” He points to the doorway and a bag that wasn’t there when I arrived. I cannot help the chuckle that escapes me, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
I pronounce to anyone listening, “Told ya.”
The comeback from Marco is instant. “So, why are you here? You’re too organized to be without food, and I would bet you have a day set aside for laundry.”
I open my mouth to disagree and realize I can’t. My brother is entirely right, but thankfully, my mom comes to the rescue before I can think of something to say. “He wanted to talk to Dad and me.” I see Marco’s face light up with curiosity, and I decide to be truthful without saying anything.
“Just some news, so it’s good that you’re here too. Saves me from repeating it all, but I want food. I’m starving. Is it going to be long, Ma?”
The look on both Mom and Dad’s face causes my heart to twist. They think I’m about to say I’ve met a girl. Knowing I’ll break their hearts tears me apart, but this is something that needs to be done. It should’ve happened a long time ago before I got involved with Dad’s business. I’m still hoping their reaction isn’t too adverse. I’ve never heard them say anything homophobic, but then again, no one has ever come out within the family circles we’re a part of.
“Five minutes. Just waiting for the pasta to cook,” Mom states, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re lucky it’s pasta and sauce tonight, so there’s enough for everyone. Next time, call your mama and let her know you’re coming.”
I smile as Mom finishes her little speech. We both might not live at home anymore and have full independent lives—well, Marco more than me—Mom still manages to admonish us. I’ll miss this.
Exactly five minutes later, Mom serves dinner, and we’re all seated around the table, enjoying the food. Every son says it, but Mom makes the best pasta sauce. It’s tangy and herby, a blast for the taste buds. Add in being with family, and it’s a beautiful meal. All too soon, it’s ending and before I knew it, the table has been cleared and Mom, Dad, and Marco look at me with expectant looks on their faces.
“So, Lorenzo, what did you want to talk to us about?” Mom says, being the first to break the silence.
I look at their faces in turn, take a huge deep breath, and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I suddenly have no idea what to say, and my mouth goes dry. I lick my lips and jump straight in.
“I’m not sure how to say this.”
With a smile on her face, my mom replies, “You know you can tell us anything.”
Looking at her face, I quietly utter the words, “I’m gay.”
There was no comeback to say you’re lying. Marco and I were brought up never to lie. If we were ever caught lying, there was a consequence, and that thought scared us enough to never risk it. So, everyone sitting at this table knows those words are real. The silence that has come around the table again is almost deafening and makes me think no one has heard me. Mom has stopped looking at me. I move to look at Dad, whose face has gone as white as a ghost. Finally, I look at my brother who is shocked, but there’s something deeper in his eyes. I could swear it looks like pride. Why is my brother proud of me?
“GET OUT!” Dad growls out, his voice furious.
“Dad,” I say to him, but he isn’t looking at me, I turn to Mom and try, “Ma,” but she turns from me and without saying a word, leaves the kitchen. Dad turns to me, and his face turns bright red with anger.
“I said GET OUT.” This time, Dad spits and shakes.
“Dad, please…” I try to beg, but I’m met with nothing. I look to Marco who has said nothing, but his face pleads with me to leave.
Dad grabs me by my collar and marches me down the hallway to the front door. His hold never lets up as he opens the inner and then finally the front door, as I look down the stone steps. I catch Frank leaning against the car with a look of sheer horror on his face.
“You aren’t welcome here anymore unless you decide to change your ways.” Dad sneers at me as he throws me out the front door, and I must grab the stone rail to stop myself from falling. As I make my way down the steps to the car, I hear Dad shout, “Frank, Lorenzo is no longer a member of this family. DO NOT take him anywhere.” He slams the front door.
Turning towards the house, I see Dad walking into the front room, pulling his cell from his pocket. I expected this, but it still doesn’t stop my heart from breaking into a million pieces. Staying as strong as I possibly can, I continue down the steps to the car and give Frank a half smile. I would never force him to go against Dad’s wishes. So, I turn towards home and walk, but I’m startled when Frank grabs my arm, checking the house before asking me.
“What the fuck happened?” I hear the concern and worry in his voice.
I tell Frank straight out, “I told them I’m gay.”
The shock I expected to see on his face never arrives, which has me wondering if he already knows. Before I can overthink it, I remove my arm from his grasp. Quickly looking to the house to make sure Dad isn’t in the window, I say, “Thanks for everything, Frank.” I could call an Uber but decide to walk home instead. It will take me hours, but I don’t care. It will give me time to think about how to get Wyatt back. Later, I realize what a colossal mistake that is.
An hour later, the brownstone is long behind me, and I get to the more commercial neighborhoods. They’re all closed for the day, making the street deathly quiet. There are also a lot of side alleys to gain access to the back of these businesses. If I had been thinking about my surroundings, instead of Wyatt and my family, I might have heard the footsteps gaining on me, but I didn’t until I’m roughly grabbed from behind and forced down a deserted alley and slammed up against a wall. I pull out my wallet and phone, thinking this is a robbery, and show them to my assailant. Six-two with broad shoulders and dressed head to toe in black, I can tell he isn’t to be messed with. As I turn to look up at him, he nods his ski mask-covered head, and three other men join him, all about the same size in the same outfits. I realize this isn’t a robbery, and the image of Dad pulling out his cell phone as he closed the door flashes into my mind and chills me to the core.
I never see the first punch coming, and I can’t tell you who throws it, but it lands right in my stomach, winding me and causing me to double over, falling to the ground. Before I have the chance to get up and run, I’m picked up off the ground, with my arms held behind my back, as another punch lands on me, then another and another. I feel one land on my cheek, and the pain radiates all over my face. I taste blood in my mouth from a spilt lip, but still the blows keeping coming. I’m unable to move. The pain gets too much. I feel myself sag in the arms of my assailant who drops me to the floor. As I lie there, hoping this nightmare will end, I feel the first kick into my chest, followed quickly by another. As I lie there dying, my only thoughts are for Wyatt. I wonder what he’s doing and if he knows he was the love of my life. As the final blow contacts my head, I wonder if he’ll miss me, as much as I’ll miss him. Everything in my world goes black.
Chapter 10 - Wyatt
Looking down at my cell, I reject the number that has been calling me consistently for the past two hours. Whoever it is must not realize I won’t answer a call on my personal cell unless I recognize the number. If they leave a voicemail, I always call them back. But this number is calling, and it’s beginning to annoy me to the point I consider blocking it. As I bring up the recent call log, the phone rings again, this time showing, ‘Private number.’ I reject it and hope the person gets the hint and leaves me alone. Just as I’m putting my cell in my pocket, I hear my text notification. My frustration levels increase. What the fuck now? I’m surprised to see I have a voicemail. I hit play and for a few seconds, there’s nothing. When I think someone must have butt dialed me, I hear a voice say three words that rock my world to its core “Lorenzo Bellevue Hospital,” and then silence.
In that second, I
completely forget that I’m at Liam’s place until I hear his concerned voice ask, “What’s wrong?”
I look up at him but don’t see his face, trying to digest exactly what those words mean. The tone of the voice seems to show it’s severe, and considering how things are between Lorenzo and me, it isn’t right. I haven’t stopped loving him, but I’ve lost trust. That’s what hurts the most. I would never want any harm to come to him, and I must go to him. The world suddenly snaps into focus. Looking at Liam, I state, “Lorenzo is at Bellevue Hospital. Before you ask, no, I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Is that why your phone has been going mental for the last two hours?”
“Don’t think so. Surely, if it were the hospital calling me, they would’ve left me a message.”
“So, how do you know he’s in hospital then?” Liam asked.
“That last caller left me a message with three words, ‘Lorenzo Bellevue Hospital.’ Don’t ask me how I know, but I think it’s serious.”
I watch as the words sink in, but then he’s on the move, grabbing the keys to the car and getting me moving. Before I know it, we’re in the car and on the way to the hospital.
“Wyatt, can I ask you something?” Liam says, talking to me to distract my thoughts.
“What?” I snap back.
“What happened tonight?”
I sigh and consider telling him the truth, but that’s something I would need to check with Lorenzo. I hate that I’ve been put in this position, but I’ll need to tell him something. I decide to go for a half-truth.
“We had a huge falling out over his family, and I couldn’t stay there.” I hope Liam doesn’t pry any more.
As if on cue, Liam asks, “Not about his coming out again? What was so different this time compared to all the others?”