24. Malcolm
Malcolm
I didn’t want to drop Bradley off at his house this afternoon, but bringing him home with me wasn’t something I could do.
Tonight is the night I’m coming clean with my family, and I don't know how everyone is going to take my news. Bradley being forced to be a witness to that fiasco is absolutely out of the question. However, it still doesn’t stop my worrying about him.
I messaged him earlier, and he said he was taking more medicine and going to bed.
Depending on how tonight goes, I may just pop up on his doorstep to take care of him.
I slide the oven rack out, the grating sound of the metallic scrape sending shivers down my spine.
The heat licks at my forearms as I bend down and carefully balance the weight of the first large pan as I place it on the rack.
The thick layers of pasta, cheese, and rich meat sauce give off a mouthwatering aroma even before baking.
Once I have it positioned, I reach for the second pan on the counter; the foil crinkling as I adjust my grip.
I set it down beside the first, push the rack back in, and shut the oven door with a gentle click.
Picking up the dish towel, I wipe my hands before tossing it haphazardly on the counter. I made two pans, unsure if I’ll even need them. Whatever is left over, I’ll box up in a container and take to Bradley. He’s told me how much he loves a good home cooked meal.
Just as I step over to the refrigerator and pull out the prepackaged salad bags, I hear it. The low chime of the elevator just before the doors open. If they made it to my penthouse, then they have the code.
Heels clicking on the tile floor echo down the hallway, just before I hear her familiar voice, “Please tell me that’s your infamous lasagna I smell?”
A crooked smile tugs at my lips as I glance at the sleek designer watch on my wrist. Right on time. Of course she is. Paige wants the gossip, and to give some moral support before everyone else arrives.
I turn, leaning against the counter as she steps into the kitchen, her flowery perfume tugging at my nose as she steps into my waiting arms, hugging me.
“Hope you’re hungry.”
“I am, but not just for food. Tell me about this weekend and this mystery man since I had to lie to the pharmacy and write you a prescription because you didn’t wanna spill the beans.
” She steps back, slapping my chest lightly with her hand.
“Since when do you do weekends with people, especially men, and not know basic details about them? And what about Jefferson?” She doesn’t even take a breath until she’s done speaking.
“Want some wine and we can sit down, and I’ll tell you everything before the kids and my parents get here.”
She steps over to my cabinet and pulls out two glasses while I set the bags of salad back in the refrigerator and pull out the bottle of white wine. She heads straight for the living room, and I follow in step behind her.
Paige sits down on the couch, placing the glasses on the coasters, already having removed the cork in the kitchen and fills them, before sitting down beside me. She reaches out, taking hers in hand and lifts it to her lips, taking a small swallow.
“Okay, spill,” she orders, giving me a pointed glance.
“I love Jefferson with all my heart. My still being in the closet was a strain on our relationship and unfair to him. He wasn’t able to have the relationship he wanted and I understand why he ended things.”
Paige doesn’t say anything. She just listens. It’s what she does best. Listen and give great advice.
“I knew that if I was going to try and get him back, I needed to work on myself. Not only to be what he needed, but to truly be who I am. Hiding my sexuality is taking a toll on my life as well.”
She reaches out, placing her hand on mine. “I am so happy you’ve finally realized it.”
“Yeah, it took me a while, and possibly losing the love of my life, but I did.”
“Okay, so tell me who you were with this weekend.”
I can feel my face heat, already knowing this is going to be an uncomfortable situation to explain. Paige won’t judge me. She never does. But his age is something I’m not sure she’ll understand, or my unlikely attraction to him.
“I knew I had to get comfortable being with a man in public. So I…”—I run my hand through my hair nervously—“so I went on this website called Foxy’s Rent-A-Date and paid for one.
His name’s Bradley. He’s great. Nice, charming, smart, and he’s been helping me.
He’s telling me all the same things you have for years.
This weekend he had me out in public, showing affection, and I was okay. ”
“So, you like this guy?” she asks sheepishly. “And Jefferson? Where does that stand?”
Fuck, that’s the big question. Where do we stand? I can’t even get him to answer my messages. He refuses to see me at work, and I doubt he’d open his door to me if I were to show up at his house.
“I still love Jefferson, but he’s shutting me out.
I’ve messaged him, and let him know that I still want there to be an us.
He’s read the messages, but he hasn’t answered.
But somehow along the way I’ve had feelings for Bradley stir within me.
I’m not sure how he feels and he’s so much younger than me. ”
Her eyes go wide, before the corners of her lips turn up in a devilish smile. “So you’re the female version of a cougar. I’m loving this for you.”
I snort, lifting the glass to take a swallow.
“You have options. If Jefferson continues to ice you out, then pursue these feelings for Bradley. Either way, you’re making a big step, the right one, and your life is going to change in all the best ways. You’re finally going to be your authentic self. The Malcolm that I know and love.”
“Yeah,” I nod my head. “You always see the positive.” Lifting my hand, I take a quick look at my watch and almost choke on air when I see we’ve been sitting here talking for about forty minutes.
My parents and the kids will be here any second, and I still need to prepare the salad and set the table.
“Want to help me finish up in the kitchen?”
“I’d love to.” Before she stands, she pauses, looking at me with those serious eyes of hers. “So, do we have popcorn for the show afterwards?” I pick up the throw pillow from the corner of the couch and give her a playful, but slightly firm swat across the head.
“Just for that, no lasagna for you,” I announce boldly, standing and heading to the kitchen, listening to her cries of that being unfair as she goes.
The clink of silverware against our empty plates is the only sound. Dinner was full of awkward quietness and forced conversations. The kids kept it going, telling us stories of what’s happening in their lives, keeping my parents entertained in conversation.
It was a silent prayer of thanks, prolonging the inevitable moment that’s looming ahead of me. My coming out to my family as gay.
My father leans back in his chair, hands resting on his stomach, glancing over at my mother before clearing his throat.
"So," he begins, "you said you wanted to talk to us about something tonight? It’s getting late and your mother and I need to be getting home to the dogs and to watch the news."
My mother perks up instantly, her eyes lighting up, eager for me to spill the news. “Yes,” she says just a little too quickly, “You were being very mysterious about it. We thought, well…” She pauses, smiling expectantly. “Is this about you and Paige?”
I blink, taken aback for a second, about why she would think it’s about her. But I don’t have to ask because she’s quicker than me.
“Why would it be about me?” Paige questions her, setting down the glass of water she’d just picked up.
Mom laughs, not unkind, but definitely uncomfortable. Dad looks down at his empty water glass and turns it slowly between his fingers.
“Well?” Paige asks again.
I sigh, “Mom, it’s not about Paige!” I draw out in frustration. “Why would you think that? It has nothing to do with her.”
My mother’s face falls so fast it’s almost cruel.
“Oh,” she gasps visibly, working on placing a masked smile on her face to cover her disappointment.
“But… you two have been spending time together again, haven’t you?
And well, her husband isn’t here. I just thought the two of you had come to your senses and gotten back together. ”
“We’re just friends,” I reiterate, firmer now. “That’s all. Nothing more. She’s still married.”
“Happily, I might add,” Paige pipes up.
Another pause. The kids snicker, both of them knowing that we’re not together and astounded my mom would even think such a thing.
My father shifts in his chair, clearly regrouping, perhaps already preparing a “well, are you sure about that” speech. But I don’t want to hear it. I need to get this over with. Otherwise I’m going to chicken out.
“Sorry to get your hopes up, Mom, but it’s not what I want to talk to you about.” I take a deep breath. “There’s been something I needed to talk to you and the kids about. I’ve been keeping it a secret and I can’t any longer. Paige is here because she knows.”
My mother gasps, her hand flying to her mouth, as her voice squeaks. “Are you sick? Please don’t tell me it’s cancer.”
Of course, she would jump to that conclusion.
“Dad?” both Henry and Alice ask in unison.
Paige reaches out, taking hold of Alice’s hand and squeezes it.
“I’m perfectly healthy. Got a clean bill of health at my last checkup.
No, what I need to tell you is something else completely.
” I glance over at Paige, and she nods her head in approval as she smiles widely.
“Kids, I love your mom, you know that.” They both nod.
“But our love is and has always been platonic. She’s my best friend.
I don’t regret a moment of our time together because it gave us the two of you. But we were both lying.”
“Son,” my father interjects harshly, but I hold up my hand, stopping him.
“Let me finish, Dad. Please, this is hard enough as it is.”
He clears his throat. “Fine.”
“Like I said, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you, and there’s no way to say this other than to just do it.
” I pause, swallow hard, my pulse racing, and I’m afraid I’m going to pass out.
“I was seeing someone. A person I loved with all my heart, but my secret kept us from being everything we could.”
“Malcolm, you’re confusing me. Just tell us.” My mom’s voice cracks as she leans into my dad.
“Okay, I’m just going to rip the bandaid off. I’m gay.”
The room goes quiet. I stare at the table, afraid to look at anyone. To see the expression on their faces at my news. But then all hell erupts.
“You’re fucking what?!” my father barks, standing from his chair. He never cusses, yet he just did.
“I’m gay. Always have been.” I lift my head and push back from the table, standing up so I’m level with him. My heart's pounding, but I hold his gaze. “Paige knew, and we stayed together until the kids graduated high school.”
“You’re just confused. I’m sure with some counseling that all this can be cleared up.” My mother nervously picks at a cloth napkin.
“Are you serious?” Paige pipes up, pushing back her chair to stand beside me. It’s why I love her. She’s my ride or die. “He’s not confused. He likes men. What’s wrong with that?”
“No son of mine is going to live in sin. We’ll get you some help and then put all this nonsense in the past.”
I glance over at my kids. They’re both on their feet now, eyes locked on my parents with visible disgust. There’s no anger on their faces, just disappointment.
“It’s about time you told us,” they say in unison, like it’s something they’ve known all along. They step closer, flanking me without hesitation. My daughter slips her arm through mine. My son squares his shoulders like he’s ready to take on the world for me.
“Your father’s right, honey,” my mom adds on.
I just shake my head, taken aback at their reaction. Unhappy, confused. Those I could understand, but the cruelness in their words I never expected.
“I don’t need therapy. Being gay isn’t a disease or something that needs to be cured. I love men and if you can’t accept that, then I’m sorry.” I stop. “Actually, I’m not sorry. Accept me or don’t. It’s your choice, but I’m no longer hiding who I am. I lost an amazing man because I did.”
My mother stands, my father pulling her into his arms, tears streaming from her eyes. I raise from my chair, my eyes pleading with them to hear me out. To dig deep within themselves for an ounce of compassion. But it’s as if they’re blind.
“Then I guess you’re no longer our son.” With my father’s words, they turn and leave.