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time for us. Family was everything for them.

“Dad…” I guess the best way to tell someone

something that you’re scared as all heck about is just to come

out and say it. Rip off the bandage. I guess I’m ripping,

because here it goes. “Dad, I have a girlfriend.”

Dad puffs on his pipe. “Oh,” he says. “Oh.”

“I don’t mean a girlfriend like a friend. I mean a

girlfriend. As in, as in, I’m a lesbian. I like women. I’m

attracted to women.”

“Oh.” More pipe smoke wafts across the deck.

I ate dinner to pacify Mom, but now it’s not sitting so

well. I’m worried that this isn’t actually sinking in. “I dated

men because that’s what I thought everyone wanted. That’s

how to be normal. I tried to make myself believe that I could

do it. That it was even what I wanted, but it wasn’t. I always

knew.”

Dad draws deeply on his pipe and sets it aside, near his

knee. He balances it with two fingers in his left hand.

“That’s…that’s okay, Stephanie. You’ll always be my little

girl. I love you no matter what you choose.”

Dad is old school. I can probably count the number of

times he’s told me that he loves me on one hand. I always

knew it. I always knew it because he always made us feel

loved. He did things for us so that we knew. We never doubted

it, but it’s a rare thing for him to say those words. A huge

thing.

“So it’s okay that I have a girlfriend? Well, I don’t

know that I do anymore.”

Dad frowns. “What happened?”

“We had a fight.”