Mom, I'm Gay

by Rebecca Flannery

Chapter 19

  Andrea’s mother arrived late Saturday night. It was a tearful reunion. She would stay with us for the week, and Jonathan and Andrea helped her bring her suitcase and other belongings into the guest room. It had been a long drive, and she looked exhausted, so I suggested that we could talk in the morning after she was rested. Andrea really wanted to stay up and talk, but she realized her mother had to get some sleep first. Ginny, who was my age, had changed a great deal in the past five years. She was very thin, her hair was starting to go gray, and there was something about her that made me think her exhaustion was more than a result of the drive here. I thought she looked like she had been tired for a long time.

  Sunday morning I felt the need to go to church, but not my usual one. The remarks made last time I went had really offended me, especially after I had read in my library books about what if felt like to be put down in the name of Christianity for one’s sexual orientation. I had not yet had an opportunity to ask Marshall where he and Bob went to church, but maybe I would ask them this afternoon when I had dinner at their condo. Perhaps next Sunday I would go to their church.

  No one was awake when I got out of bed, and instead of going to church, I decided to go to the beach for a walk. It was quiet and peaceful there, and I thought just the meditation time would do me good, but as I walked along, I came across a church service held on the beach when weather permitted.

  To me, this was a little gift from God, coming to this service unexpectedly. Although I had heard about it, I had never attended and I really didn’t know what church sponsored it. There were rows of folding chairs facing the water, and I quietly sat down in an empty one near the back. The older couple sitting in front of me turned and greeted me warmly. Singing familiar songs a cappella, with the waves of the ocean crashing to shore that close, even with total strangers, was an amazingly spiritual experience. The sermon was given by a woman about my age, who may or may not have been the pastor; she didn’t introduce herself and was dressed very casually. She had a quiet style of preaching, and her lesson was about the prodigal son, but it focused on the son who had stayed home. It gave me a lot to think about. During the final hymn, I slipped away, feeling no desire to participate in any post-service conversation that was sure to follow. I felt very uplifted as I walked back up the beach, and the feeling continued when I returned home.

  Ginny and Andrea were talking at the kitchen table, and I decided to work in the yard for a while to give them some alone time. Jonathan came outside when he got up.

  “’Mornin’,” he said as he walked across the back yard to the corner where I was weeding and redistributing mulch. I was happy to see he had moved on from his anger towards me a week ago.

  “Good morning!” I responded. “Trying to give the two of them some space?”

  He nodded, and sat down on the grass near me. “Are you really going to Marshall’s this afternoon?” he asked. I had mentioned it to him earlier in the week, but I hadn’t told him their idea of trading residents yet. Now seemed as good a time as any, so I said, “You might be surprised about why they asked me, Jonathan. They fell in love with this house when they came to dinner, and they are trying to get me to fall in love with their condo.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “After you leave for college in the fall, what do I need this house for? They seem to think the perfect solution is for me to buy their condo, and they’ll buy this house.”

  “I’m beginning to see these two aren’t really just clients, are they? Marshall did seem like a very interesting guy.” Jonathan seemed sincere as he said that, and I was pleased. It would be wonderful if one day, I could invite Bob and Marshall over to have a dinner with Jonathan, even though I realized now that I had tried to make that happen way too soon.

  “Andrea thought I was dating him!” I laughed as I told him that, and he just smiled. Then he told me he was going to a the beach with Janey and Megan that afternoon, and soon after, Ginny and Andrea came out to the yard, too. It wasn’t long before Andrea and Jonathan went back inside, leaving Ginny and me alone for the first time since she arrived.

  “I was very surprised to hear Andrea had found a job so quickly,” Ginny began.

  “Me, too!” I agreed.

  “She clearly has thought about coming back here for awhile, has she?” I nodded, as I continued gardening, and she sat down on the grass nearby. She talked to me for quite a long while, with very little encouragement on my part. She told me how life had changed after Andrea’s father found a younger woman and left her and Andrea. She spoke with no bitterness, but with resignation, although she told me she had become a very angry woman when it first happened. She had dropped out of college to get married, and although she had planned to finish, she hadn’t gone back. She found herself in need of a job and she and Andrea had to learn to manage with much less. That had been hard on Andrea especially, and when her father’s new wife treated her meanly, Andrea began to change. Ginny and Andrea had moved into an apartment, and Ginny struggled to pay the rent and buy groceries. Andrea knew her father and Joan lived in a nice house and wore nice clothes, and yet when she asked her dad for anything, it turned into a war with Joan. She was so miserable, and she began fighting with everyone – Ginny, her classmates, and her teachers. Her grades suffered and finally, after her sophomore year of high school, her father came up with the idea that if she moved to Florida with him and Joan, everything would get better. Ginny was very opposed to the idea, but he somehow convinced Andrea to come. The day she left, Andrea and Ginny argued horribly as Ginny pleaded with her to stay.

  “It was so hard to see her get on that plane,” Ginny said. “I felt like my life was coming apart at the seams. I had already lost my marriage, and now I was losing my daughter. I had no faith that it would work out for her in Florida.”

  And it hadn’t worked out, but Ginny barely heard from her. Just a short phone call now and then from Andrea, who really never told her how bad things were, and twice, her father called to suggest Andrea come back to Ginny, but each time that had happened, the plans never materialized. Now, she just felt sad that through it all, it was really Andrea who had suffered the most. When she called to tell Andrea’s father where she was, he hadn’t acted worried or surprised. If anything, he had sounded relieved that it was no longer his problem. She said she wasn’t planning to tell Andrea about that conversation, but Andrea didn’t seem at all concerned about her father, either.

  The idea that Andrea already had a job and wanted to move back here was very encouraging, and Ginny was already thinking she should try to find a job here, too. I told her I would be happy to help her any way I could. I did not tell her how bad Andrea looked when she arrived. I thought she might be able to hear that a little later on if things became more stable between mother and daughter.

  Later on that afternoon, Andrea and Ginny had the house to themselves. I felt a little awkward leaving my guests, but they insisted they needed some time together. As I drove to Bob and Marshall’s, I thought about what it must have been like, not to see your daughter for two years. Andrea had already told me they had been on bad terms, and the time alone together might help them mend things. I hoped so.

  The condominium was in a wonderful neighborhood downtown. It turned out to be more than I ever had expected it to be. I had sold one of the condos in this area about eighteen months ago, and therefore knew the area and basic floor plan. But the one I had sold didn’t have any of the upgrades theirs had. Also, their taste in decorating was very similar to mine, I realized as I toured each room. No wonder my house was so appealing to them. Even their dining room set was very similar to my grandmother’s.

  It had been an understatement to say they enjoyed container gardening. Their patio was like a tropical paradise, it was so full of lush green plants and flowers. Each one was planted in a container that seemed to have been chosen specifically for that plant, and the eclectic look of the different cont
ainers added even more interest to the showy displays. It was clear that I was reacting just as they had hoped.

  “So, what do you think of it?” Bob’s eyes were shining with anticipation as we sat down to dinner. Before I could answer his question, I looked at the food they had prepared. It looked like something out of a gourmet food magazine.

  “Who prepared this amazing-looking meal?” I asked incredulously. I looked at a platter of pan fried haddock, a bowl of risotto, and another of mixed fresh vegetables. The aroma was tantalizing and presentation just perfect.

  “Ah, the truly important part is how it tastes, not how it looks, Mara,” Marshall said. “But we cooked it together. Bob is the real chef, and I am the sous chef.”

  I was more than a little surprised when he asked if we could say a brief grace before beginning, and again my curiosity was piqued about his spiritual side. We actually joined hands and gave thanks for the meal. It was a warm beginning to what turned out to be a wonderful evening with these two men who were quickly becoming very special to me.

  By Wednesday night of that week, some major plans had been developed by Ginny and Andrea. They had begun looking at apartments, and Ginny had had several job interviews. Andrea had set up an appointment for Ginny with Karen, at the beauty salon, and the results were amazing. Just as quickly as Andrea had been transformed from a dreadlocked teen, Ginny now looked much more like she had five years earlier. The gray was gone, and the new haircut brought out her fine features. Along with the improved hair, she seemed so much happier, now that Andrea was back in her life.

  Late that night, they were upstairs talking to each other in Gabby’s room, which I now thought of as Andrea’s room. Although I was downstairs, I overheard Andrea tell her mother she had seen Jonathan with R.J. at the beach. I couldn’t hear every word she said, but clearly she was shocked to see him with the “gay waiter,” as she described him to her mother, but Ginny clearly was not the least bit surprised.

  “Why are you reacting this way?” I heard her ask. “Surely that’s crossed your mind – about Jonathan?”

  “No, Mom, it never has.” There was silence. “He would have told me – we are best friends.” More silence, followed by Ginny saying,

  “Andrea, we left when you and Jonathan were thirteen years old. He probably didn’t realize that about himself back then. Maybe he did, I don’t know. You two kept in touch for a while, but you know that’s not the same as being in person.”

  In response, after a pause, I heard Andrea say, “Maybe that’s why some of his friends here thought I was a lesbian?” I could imagine a look of comprehension on her face as she said this. I also was aware that a burden had been lifted from both Jonathan and me. There were no more worries about whether Andrea knew, and Jonathan had not told her.

  “His friends…They actually asked you that?” It was Ginny’s turn to sound incredulous now. At that point, I realized I’d overheard more than I should and was beginning to feel like an eavesdropper. I changed my mind about going upstairs and turned around and headed into the family room. There, I turned on the TV, and began flipping through the channels. Before I settled on a something to watch, the phone rang, and there was Patrick, calling once again just when I needed him.

  Patrick and I spent over an hour on the phone that evening. He was such a huge help to me; he really understood the way Jonathan was feeling and although it wasn’t easy for me, I was finally realizing that I needed to stay out certain parts of his life right now. Patrick told me I simply had to disengage whenever the topic of sexual preference came up with anyone Jonathan had a relationship with. It was his job, not mine, to pave that road, and I had to let him do it. Patrick made a simple analogy to learning to tie shoes. If someone else always did it for you, you’d never know how to do it. Likewise, if someone always laid the foundation for disclosing a person’s sexual preference, that person would never truly learn what was possible. Patrick also believed that it wasn’t always necessary to discuss the topic at all to have healthy relationships. Not every grandparent, aunt and cousin needed to know. That gave a great deal to think about.

  By the time we hung up, I felt much better. I felt I had some strategies to use when I was faced with the next awkward situation arose. We also made plans for Patrick to join us for Jonathan’s graduation, if Jonathan was open to that idea. I shared with Patrick the exchange I had witnessed with R.J., and the subsequent conversation about that I had overheard earlier that night between Ginny and Andrea. Patrick reiterated that I did not need to know any more about R.J., unless Jonathan decided to tell me. He said he was going to email Jonathan and ask if he could come to the graduation, so I didn’t have to get involved with that, either. That was so Patrick!