Chapter Seventeen
“Serenade”
by BANNERS
Lucy
It’s rare that our four-seater dining table is ever completely occupied, but that’s not even the most surprising thing about tonight. It’s that Mom is being nice. To Dad, of all people. She passes the bowl of rice to him with a smile, and he accepts gratefully.
“Alice, this chicken korma is delicious,” Sushant says, taking yet another bite of the very mediocre Indian dish my mom prepared specially for him. “It’s just like what I have back home.”
She beams at him, and I squeeze Sushant’s free hand under the table.
Mom always puts on a good front for my boyfriend, and that applies even when her archnemesis, aka her ex-husband, is sitting beside her.
It was a good idea inviting Sushant to this dinner.
He’s obviously lying about the authenticity of the chicken korma to keep the peace.
He must really love me. I’ve had his Dadima’s chicken korma, and for one, it didn’t have raw onions, raisins, or peanuts. God knows where Mom got this recipe.
After dinner, we put our dishes in the sink and sit down again with some ice cream. Mom clears her throat, a fake smile plastered on her face. “So, Ken, to what do we owe the pleasure? What brought you here?”
Finally. I close my eyes briefly, then open them. The moment of truth. Beside me, Sushant nudges his leg closer to mine, his way of saying, I’ve got you, babe.
Dad sets his spoon down and looks my way. “Lucy will be off to college soon. It’s a new chapter, and a big one at that. Let’s just say, I don’t want to miss it. Your mother said you’re still waiting to hear from NYU?”
So he knows. They’ve talked in detail since that phone call when she swore at him. I lower my gaze to my melting ice cream. There hasn’t been an update on the status of my wait-listed application. I’ll probably only know next month, when final acceptance letters are sent out.
“She’s also applied to schools around here, so NYU isn’t set in stone,” Mom says, lifting the spoon of chocolate ice cream to her lips. “New York is so far away from California.”
Dad reaches across the table to take my hand in his sweaty palm while he’s still talking to Mom. “I told you this earlier, Alice, that I want to help pay for Lucy’s tuition. It’s the right thing to do. Will you let me?”
Mom looks from me to Sushant, her lips pressed into a thin line.
She doesn’t want to say no in front of him, though that’s her final answer.
But it isn’t her decision. It’s mine. If Dad was okay deserting us—me—for eight years and he wants to win me back by paying for my life in New York, then let him. It’s the least he can do.
So I answer on Mom’s behalf. “Yes, Dad, you can help. But”—I exhale—“that doesn’t mean I forgive you for what you did to Mom and me. That doesn’t mean you get to come back into my life now or ever. You can’t fix everything with money. Certainly not leaving us for another woman.”
Dad’s face darkens, and he whips his head to stare at Mom. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?” I ask, my eyebrows knitting together.
“Lucy said nothing wrong,” Mom answers, still smiling tightly. She pushes her chair back and stands. “Well, Sushant’s parents must be wondering where he is. It’s almost ten!”
“Don’t worry, Alice,” Sushant starts, just as I open my mouth to protest. “My curfew isn’t until midnight—”
“I didn’t leave your mother for another woman.” Dad’s voice is quiet but solid. A tear shines in the corner of his eye. “I fell in love with someone while I was still married, and I will always regret hurting Alice, but I will not tolerate disrespect for my partner.”
Sushant and I exchange confused glances. “Partner”? Is Dad—
He takes out his wallet and shows me the two pictures inside it.
One is my childhood yearbook photo from a year before Dad left.
The other is a picture of Dad and someone else, their cheeks pressed together.
They’re both dressed in tuxes. “This is Jade,” he says, pointing to the other person, “my nonbinary partner. We got together shortly after your mother and I filed for divorce. They are not a woman, and they are the love of my life.”
I blink as I process this. Dad is queer.
That’s what Mom has shielded me from all these years.
She always said he met someone else but never gave any details about who they were.
I guess she didn’t want me to know the full truth.
Blood rushes into my ears, and my mouth opens and closes wordlessly. “Oh,” I mumble finally. “Dad, that’s…”
He lowers his gaze and gulps, as though he’s afraid of what I might say.
“That’s great,” I finish, my lips twitching into a small smile. His betrayal still stings, but somehow it doesn’t feel as heavy. Dad is queer. Just…just like me. “I hope you’re both happy.”
Dad cracks a grin and wipes a tear that’s fallen midway down his cheek, chuckling softly, like he can’t believe I’m being supportive. “We are.”
“We should call it a night.” Mom’s mouth is set in a thin line. She grabs my bowl of melting ice cream and heads to the kitchen, huffing loudly.
A few minutes later, Sushant kisses me in our usual fashion at the front door, his eyes worried. “You okay?” he asks, pressing a warm hand to my cheek.
I settle my face into his grip and shrug. “I don’t know. I have so many more questions than answers.”
His fingers move to my shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
My body stiffens. How do I tell him the full extent of what I feel about Dad’s revelation and how much I relate to it? How do I bare my thoughts without revealing everything I’ve hidden from him for months?
Maybe he gets the message, because his grip loosens. “I’ll be fine,” I reply quickly, shifting my gaze to my feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Sushant gets into his car and then pulls out of the driveway. “I love you!” he yells as he turns into the street, and I wave, somehow unable to repeat those words to him.
After he disappears from my line of sight, I don’t go back inside.
I sit down on the steps of the front porch, resting my elbows on my knees, thinking back to my parents’ divorce.
All these years, I’d made assumptions about my father.
Mom never answered my questions about Dad except to say he’d left us for someone else.
I had my fair share of guesses—maybe a work colleague or a drunken one-night stand he’d ended up falling for.
But every time I imagined Dad with his new partner, I pictured a woman.
There was never any room for speculation.
Why? Why did his being with another woman have to be the obvious assumption?
“Hey.” Dad taps the top of my head and sits down beside me. “You doing okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I just…I’m sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have assumed anything about who you’re with.”
Dad whooshes out a breath. “I wish your mother had told you, but maybe she didn’t know how to talk about it. Most people don’t. Not even my parents.”
I stare up at him and lower my voice. The front door is ajar. “How long have you known you’re…queer?”
“Since I was about your age, when I fell for a boy the summer after high school graduation. That’s why your grandparents cut off all ties with me.
I…” He sighs. “Soon after, I met your mother at the local church near my college, and we got married a few months later. I wanted to be happy with her—and I really did love her—but I know now that I rushed into it to hide that part of me from the world. When you grow up in the church like I did, you get used to living in denial about anything that isn’t the norm. ”
“Did she know the truth when you got married?”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell her until our marriage was crumbling and I fell for Jade. Then I came clean and asked for a divorce.”
I shift in place, wondering if I even want to know the answer to my next question. “Why didn’t you ever want custody of me, Dad?”
“Your mother insisted on full custody. She said I owed her that much, at the very least, especially because everyone in church was talking about us behind our backs.” He shuts his eyes and grimaces. “She was also scared I’d…influence you to go down the wrong path.”
My throat fills with sobs. The wrong path. I knew it. Mom will never be okay with my sexuality. Nor will she understand it. “I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“Don’t be.” Dad shrugs, his shoulder jostling mine. “It is what it is.”
I cross my fingers. “Has Mom spoken to them? Jade?”
“No, and I don’t think I want to make that introduction.” He laughs, then puts a tentative hand on my upper back. “But I’d love for you to meet them. They know all about you.”
I shoot him a funny look. “Dad, we haven’t spoken in years. You don’t even know all about me. How could they know?”
“Well, then”—Dad stands up and offers his hand to me, and I take it—“I promise I’ll try to change that, starting now. If you’ll let me.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek.
Dad hesitates, then says, “Sushant seems like a nice kid. Where is he going to college?”
“Syracuse.” I force myself to smile. “So here’s hoping I get into NYU.”
“Listen, kiddo.” Dad smiles. “If there’s anything else I can do to help—”
Dishes clatter from inside the kitchen. It’s Mom’s way of reminding us that this dinner is over. “I’ll see you soon, Lucy.” Dad steps forward for a hug, but then sticks his hand out instead. We shake hands. A laugh bubbles out of me, and then he’s gone.
I wish Mom good night—she answers stiffly, her focus still on the dishes—and go upstairs to my room. Then I text Julien. He’s the only one I can talk to about this. So I had dinner with my dad today. After like 8 years.
I change into my pajamas, crawl under the sheets, and wait for his reply. It comes minutes later. Oh waouh! How did it go?
Lucy:
Turns out, Dad is queer and has a nonbinary partner. Mom never told me, so I’m guessing she doesn’t “approve”
Julien:
Oh…are you ok?