May 7 （earlier that year）
“A caramel Frappuccino please.”
“Name?”
“A-mit.” I tried to articulate the syllables as clearly as possible but still…
“Amitz?”
“OK.” I gave up.
As I was waiting for my drink, Liam came in carrying a shopping bag. We’d left home together but he’d stopped at a shop in the mall to check out clothes for his graduation party.
“You ordered already?” he asked.
“Yeah. A second ago.”
“Frappuccino again?”
“Don’t give me that look. There’s nothing else here worth drinking.”
“You haven’t tried their new spring drink!” He pointed to a nearby sign featuring a multi-colored drink that apparently contained strawberry, pitaya and pineapple. You had to be brave.
“Name?”
“Liam.”
“220 baht.”
Liam paid with his Starbucks card while I marveled that the barista got his name right the first time.
We found an empty table. It was Monday morning and the place was quiet.
Liam should have been at school, but I figured cutting class was no big deal in senior year.
Yet it was obvious that he was stressed.
It seemed like something serious was bothering him.
He looked down, bit his lip and jiggled his leg.
“Amit, I have to tell you something.”
I waited but he hesitated. I knew this look and I got the message. Liam and I were friends, and brothers, and I knew him well. About two weeks earlier I’d seen him holding hands with a young guy near our building. I hadn’t said anything. If he wanted to, he would tell me.
Now he clearly did. I wanted to give him time to spit it out, but I couldn’t stand to see him in such agony.
“Liam it’s ok. I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes. I saw you.” Liam blushed but didn’t ask when and where. It’s better not to know some things.
“And, uh… what do you think?”
“I’m happy for you. A bit jealous ‘cos you’ll have less time for me…” I said smiling.
“Oh, stop. We’ll still have our ‘Saturday-morning-beautiful-beach’ tradition.”
“Why did you pick today to tell me?”
“Well, I wanted to tell you. But I also want to ask your advice. I want to tell my parents, and I figured you’ve been there because you’re… you know…”
“Gay?”
“Yeah, that. I guess I’ll have to get used to the word.”
“Try saying it 100 times every night in front of the mirror. It helps.”
He laughed and his tension seemed to ease. “You’re insane!”
“For real. I’ll help you. We can practice until you get comfortable enough to talk without choking on the word like you did just now.”
Liam looked ashamed.
“It’s ok, Liam. This is unknown territory. I’ll help you prepare. And when you’re ready to tell them, I can even be there if you’d like. The coming out conversation with your parents was one of the easiest I’ve ever had. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Liam seemed relieved but on the verge of tears. A good sign. It meant the tension was broken. I got up to give him a hug.
“It’s so great to have a big brother,” he said quietly.
We spent hours in my apartment working on Liam’s coming out speech and laughing.
I held up photos of Naama and Eli and mimicked them.
I knew this was all unnecessary because Naama and Eli were enlightened and accepting, but it was important for Liam as he readied himself to say the words he feared so much.
He wanted me to be there when he told them.
He also wanted to be sure that Keren wouldn’t interrupt.
“She’ll find out next. It might make her love me more, that weirdo.
” He smiled. I knew how important she was to him.
About a week later Liam was ready. He turned off the TV and called his parents, looking to me for a last shot of courage.
I smiled at him, and he gave me a tight-lipped smile in return.
His parents came into the room and looked at the two of us expectantly.
And then it was done. Liam told them and was rewarded with the hugs he had so hoped for.
No big deal. Just two parents loving their kid.
I couldn’t hold back my tears. I was so happy for him.
“So when is Alex coming over to meet us?” Naama didn’t waste any time.
“Soon,” grinned Liam shyly.
“I think the more important question is when Amit is going to bring someone home , ” Eli said.
Everyone laughed. I’d been a silent witness until then, not saying a single word, but I was never invisible in this family.
“Don’t count on me. I’m a lost cause.”
“I’m glad you are – a lost cause. That way only someone really special will be the one for you.” Naama smiled at me lovingly. I knew I would never be able to express how grateful I was.