Chapter Thirty-Six In Pieces #2
I told him the rest. About the time I did stand up for him.
My sister and her boyfriend had come over that afternoon, and at dinner, mom had set the table for five people and said there wasn’t room for Eddie to eat with us, so she set a place in the kitchen for him, and when I said I’d eat in the kitchen with him, she made this big to-do and set up a card table in the dining room for him to eat at, on the other side of the table from me so we couldn’t talk.
“My mom would never treat anyone I loved like that,” said Bex, “because she’s a good mom. Sorry, Craig, but if that’s what your mom did, then she’s a pathetic excuse for a mother. What did your dad say?”
“He pretty much sides with my mom on everything.”
“Craig, your parents are both terrible people.”
I stared at him.
“What did you say to them when he left?”
“They didn’t find out he was gone till I did.”
“Did you call him?”
“Yeah, as soon as I knew he was gone.”
“When was that?”
“Well, we all got up to open Christmas presents, but Eddie wasn’t there, so I said I’d wake him, and my mom said, ‘No, let him sleep.’ And then we had breakfast, but he still wasn’t up.
I went to go to his room, and my mom stopped me and said, ‘Leave it. He’ll get up when he wakes up.
’ So we opened presents, but there was nothing for Eddie.
My mom said she’d put his presents away for when he got up.
I guess it was lunchtime when my mom said Eddie wasn’t in his room, and his stuff was gone.
That’s when I called him. He said he was in Toronto, and he didn’t want to talk to me. ”
“Then what did you do? Tell me you at least yelled at your parents and then got on a plane home.”
I felt like I was sinking into the ground. I felt worthless, like I deserved everything Eddie had said to me. “It was Christmas. We had to finish opening our presents. Then we had to go visit some friends of my parents, and Eddie said he didn’t want to talk to me anyway—”
“Craig, are you telling me you let your parents off the hook, and you didn’t fly back till the next day?”
“I flew back on the twenty-seventh.” Hearing myself, I realized what I’d done. What I hadn’t done. What I should have done.
Bexley pressed both hands over his face. “Jesus, Craig. That’s why he was gone when you got back. If Eddie’s parents treated you like that, would he have sat there and let them, or would he have stuck up for you?”
“He doesn’t talk to his parents. They kicked him out when he was seventeen when they caught him with his boyfriend.”
“So, his parents turned their backs on him too?” said Bex. “Don’t you get it? He had nobody but you, and you threw him to the wolves.”
Bex had this tendency to hit the nail on the head and then bang it in.
I thought about what he’d said all the next day.
I knew Eddie was angry at me, but I hadn’t understood how badly I’d hurt him.
However much I was hurting from losing him, I deserved it.
I talked it through with my therapist. He helped me realize my parents had always been homophobic.
That was part of what had made it so hard for me to be with Eddie in the beginning.
I’d had to get past that, and Eddie had been so patient with me, waiting until I was ready.
The only time he’d ever blamed me was when I did or said something homophobic or biphobic, and that was only because he was defending himself.
After that therapy session, I made a decision.
With my therapist’s help, I wrote a script, and then I emailed my parents, asking to FaceTime with them.
They didn’t respond. They’d been pretty much giving me the silent treatment since Christmas. My mom would send curt little emails saying something critical or passive-aggressive and never once mentioning Eddie or showing any sign they were sorry for how they’d treated him.
Back in December, I’d booked tickets for him and me to see Hamilton on his birthday.
I’d planned the whole evening with dinner at a nice restaurant beforehand.
I’d forgotten about it until I got a calendar notification on my phone.
Instead of going out to dinner and a show with him, I sat at home alone.
That was when I got an email from my mom giving me permission to FaceTime her and my dad.
If she’d done it any other day, I’d have been nicer or felt guilty.
Not tonight. I FaceTimed them, and before they could say a word, I told them exactly what I thought of how they’d treated Eddie.
My heart was pounding, because I’d never raised my voice to them before.
Twice, my mom interrupted me. I was so angry, I muted her and kept talking. When I was finished, I unmuted them.
My mom said, “Well, I can see you’re still worked up over that grotty little boy.”
“No,” I said. “I’m done. With both of you. I don’t want to see or hear from either of you ever again. You can both fuck right off.”
Then I cut the connection. My apartment felt quiet.
I heard the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations in the distance.
We would have been coming home from seeing Hamilton right now, holding hands and planning our wedding.
And when we got home, we’d have the best sex we’d ever had, and then I’d hold him, and we’d fall asleep, and everything would have been perfect.
I blocked my parents on my phone and my email, then I switched off my laptop. I waited for something catastrophic to happen. But the world didn’t end (not any more than it had since he’d left).
What happened instead was that two weeks later, I got a letter in the mail from my mother.
It was the only way she could contact me, other than coming to my apartment, and I’d never let her into the building if she tried.
I took the letter to my therapist, and he opened it, and we went over it together.
It was hard to accept that my parents had never really loved me.
They’d only loved the idea of me as their perfect son: perfect grades, perfectly straight.
Only I was bi and fucked up and weak and so scared of disappointing them that I hadn’t protected Eddie from them.
Eddie had been right. If anything, what my mother wrote in that letter made me realize I’d been right to cut her off.
Too late, though. Too late for me and Eddie.