Chapter Ten #2
“Are you serious? Yes. Let’s do it. This time without a flat tire and fighting.”
I rolled my eyes. “You just totally jinxed us, dude. Knock on wood.” I reached up and gave his head a sharp rap.
The faint knock on the front door came a moment later, and Gavin and I stared at each other, puzzled.
I eased out from under Ava, who barely stirred as I settled her on the cushions.
I left the den and hurried around the kitchen and down the hall, wondering if the pizza guy accidentally came back.
Not that I could fit even another slice in my belly.
I probably should have expected to find the Bloombergs standing there in their coats and scarves with worn faces and dark circles under their eyes. But I stared at them with my mouth agape for at least a few seconds before I got it together enough to invite them inside.
They removed their boots, and I awkwardly took their coats before ushering them into the front room, which we hardly ever used.
It had that stiff, sitting room quality.
The furniture was classic and pristine, and the Bloombergs perched on the couch while I went to get drinks and their son.
They were dressed in button-up shirts and slacks—not fancy, but not lounge wear either.
I wondered if they’d had plans tonight that they canceled.
Gavin glanced up with a frown when I came back into the den. I whispered, “It’s your parents,” and his eyes widened.
I hung back in the kitchen, not sure if I should offer them booze or soda or what. Maybe coffee? Tea? What did grownups drink this late at night at other people’s houses? I decided to put together a selection on a little tray. I also decided to take a page from Ava’s book and eavesdrop shamelessly.
“Darling, are you all right?” Mrs. Bloomberg’s voice sounded raw.
“Yeah. I mean, obviously I’m upset. But I’m okay. Are you?”
“It’s been a difficult day,” she answered.
“Gavin…” She sighed heavily. “Darling, this wasn’t how I thought your life would go.
I can’t say I’m happy about it. But we couldn’t let you spend another night thinking that we don’t love you the way you are.
” Her voice thickened with tears. “Because we do. We love you so much.”
“Even if I’m gay?” Gavin’s voice shook. “Because I am.”
“Yes,” Mr. Bloomberg answered. “Yes. We were up all night arguing and running through all the different scenarios for what your life will be like now. We kept coming back to the same thing. That we love you and support you.”
“You really do?”
I strained to hear Mr. Bloomberg’s low response. “Son, I…” He cleared his throat, speaking more confidently. “I should have said it four years ago. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that. I hope you know that.”
“We want the best for you, and you’re going to have it.” Mrs. Bloomberg’s voice cracked. “You’re our baby.”
I peeked around the corner, and they were standing by the couch, the three of them hugging each other and sniffling. I was getting choked up myself, so I busied myself with the drinks. After a minute, I took the tray in. “Um, can I offer you a drink?”
Wiping her eyes, Mrs. Bloomberg looked at the tray and laughed. “I don’t think I’ve had an orange soda in decades, but sure.”
I hadn’t even paid attention to the cans I’d pulled out of the fridge. “It was a treat for my sister. I put down the tray on the table and checked the other cans I’d shoved on there. “There’s also, um, root beer and cream soda. But I’m pretty sure my mom has Diet Coke. Or water?”
She smiled kindly. “I’m going to live dangerously and have that orange soda. As long as your sister won’t mind.”
“No, of course not.” I poured it into a glass I’d filled with ice and handed it over.
After I gave Mr. Bloomberg a root beer, we all sat, the three of them on the couch and me in a chair.
I tried to think of something to say. I felt like Gavin’s parents were looking at me and thinking, He’s had sex with our baby.
“I went on the internet,” Mrs. Bloomberg said.
“I didn’t realize you’d heard of it.” Gavin smiled at his own joke.
“Har, har. I was dialing up and surfing Netscape when I was pregnant with you, young man. Anyway, your father and I are going to a meeting next week at the library. It’s called PFLAG.
Parents and friends of lesbians and gays.
And I assume transgendered people too.” She turned to her husband.
“Is that the right term? I think it is. That’s what they say on Orange is the New Black, isn’t it? ”
“I think it’s right, Mom. And that’s really cool about PFLAG. You’ve been busy.”
“Well, I’m not one for sitting idle. If I’m a parent of a gay person, then I’m going to learn all about it.”
I had a feeling she was going to learn way more than Gavin might want, but it was pretty awesome.
Gavin said, “Cool. But… Do you still think it’s wrong for gay people to have kids? And what about getting married? What do you guys think about that?”
The Bloombergs shared a glance, and Gavin’s dad answered. “We don’t know. We’ve always thought…we’ve always been proponents of traditional marriage. Traditional families.”
Ugh. Okay, so that was way less awesome. I had to legit bite my tongue to stop from shouting about how wrong they were for so many reasons. Gavin was ashen, and I wanted to circle the coffee table and take his hand.
Mr. Bloomberg went on. “But when we think of what a wonderful father you’d be…
well, it’s different when it’s you. It changes everything.
Makes us think of the world in a whole new way.
” He rubbed his face. “It’s a lot to take in.
There are so many things we need to think about.
But like your mother said, we couldn’t stand the thought of you waking up tomorrow and thinking we don’t support you.
We do. I’m not saying it’s all going to be perfect. But we’ll try our best.”
Gavin was silent for a few moments, and I itched to know what he was thinking. Finally, he simply said, “Okay. We’ll all do our best.”
“Will you come home?” Mrs. Bloomberg asked. “We’d really like to talk more with you.” She glanced at me. “Not that we don’t want to talk to you as well, Charlie. It’s just getting late.”
“You guys should go to bed,” Gavin said. “I’ll walk back after midnight. We can talk more in the morning. Maybe you can make pancakes?”
She nodded, wiping away fresh tears. “I have some blueberries in the fridge. Gosh, I haven’t made pancakes in a long time.”
Gavin shot me a little smile. “I had some the other day. Gave me the taste for them.”
We all shuffled into the hallway, and I handed them their coats after they put their boots back on.
Mr. Bloomberg offered his hand. “Thank you for the hospitality, Charlie. I suppose we’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Gavin’s mom shook my hand as well before she and her husband hugged Gavin again.
We stood in the door and watched them walk into the gently falling snow. I closed it and flipped the lock, leaning back. “That was intense.”
“Yeah. But I’m so glad they came.”
I opened my arms, and we held each other as the new year crept closer.
“Five, four, three, two—one!”
Ava, Gavin and I rattled the dollar store noisemakers and blew out the paper blowy things that unfurled with a hoot, jumping up and down on the thick carpet of the den.
“Happy new year!” Ava shouted, doing a pirouette in front of the Christmas tree and laughing gloriously.
“Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?”
Gavin and I looked at each other, and when we kissed, it was so perfect I could hardly stand it. I nuzzled him. “I’m so glad for FOGmaggedon and snowmaggedon, and all the -maggedons.”
“Me too.” With a grin, Gavin heaved me up and spun me around. “To new beginnings.”
“Now me!” Ava held up her arms, and Gavin whirled her into the air while I laughed, my feet still miles off the ground.