Page 66 of Don't Puck Up

“That’s great,” Dad responded gruffly.

To the church community, he was the man who’d give you the shirt off his back. But he’d been strict to the point of cruel when I was a kid. I’d been terrified of him. It was only with the benefit of distance and learning from my nieces and nephews that my brothers’ parenting style was exactly the same as Dad’s that I realized Dad ruling with an iron fist was learned behavior. Grandpa Joe died just after I was born, but Mom liked to tell me how much alike they were. Their looks, but more so their mannerisms and even the way they spoke, were alike. It was as if the passing down of generational trauma through abusive parenting was a goal in my family. We were at least three generations in and going strong.

“Okay, Mom. Our flight is about to be called. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, love. See you then. I’ll pray for you to have a safe flight.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I hung up, and Kam squeezed my hand. “She’s going to invite your Mom and Dad.”

She nodded. Kam had already spoken with her parents to let them know we’d be there.

Boarding was announced, and once we were buckled into our seats, time absolutely dragged. Every minute felt like an hour, every hour a week. By the time midnight rolled around and we staggered into the hotel just outside of Boston Logan, we were exhausted.

I’d wanted to message V all day, and the temptation hit me hard again when I sat down on the bed in our hotel room. He’d been at the forefront of my thoughts for months; tonight, it was for a whole different reason. I’d told Kam to give me the day, but I needed to talk to my parents first. I couldn’t just call him up and ask him to reconsider. I needed to show him that I was prepared to change before I asked him to do the same.

We showered and slid under the covers. I reached for Kam. I needed her in my arms. I breathed deep, forcing my nerves down. I could do this. For me. For us. I wanted to be free.

My sexuality had become a dirty secret that I’d hidden from for too long. Kam had been the first and only person I told. Years passed, and she caught me looking at a man in college. She went and picked him up, introduced us, and once we’d gotten to know each other better and trusted him enough not to talk, she suggested a threesome. He’d been my first everything with a man. So, when it came time to exploring Kam’s sexuality, I’d done the same for her.

Kam accepted me without question. She was a far better person than me—I didn’t fully accept myself until V. With one sentence he’d shone a torch on the shame I was living with. He’d praised me. He reminded me every time we were together that I was strong and what I wanted wasn’t wrong, nor did it make me less of a man because of my sexuality. Everything he did had helped immeasurably. I’d barely put up a fight that first time, but that just reinforced how right he was for us and how exhausted I’d been from fighting myself for so long.

They’d both given me the strength to believe in myself. Now I was going to live my truth and in turn, free Kam and me to live authentically together.

“Get some sleep,” I murmured, then kissed Kam’s head.

“Will you wake me if you can’t sleep? Assuming I’m not just lying here staring at the ceiling myself.”

“No, there’s no need for us both to be exhausted tomorrow.”

“We don’t have to do this,” she reminded me. “We can just visit, have lunch, and go home on Monday.”

“I know.” I exhaled heavily and rubbed my tired eyes. “But it’s time.”

There was a long pause, and I thought she’d fallen asleep. When she moved the hand she had wrapped around my waist up to my chest, I realized she had more to say.

“Are we going to talk about V?”

“There’s not really much to say right now, is there?”

Kam huffed and tweaked my nipple hard.

“Ow, fuck.” I rubbed my bruised skin as she propped herself up on her elbow and glared down at me.

“You know there is, Chris,” she growled and poked me in the side. “Coming out is one thing, but you aren’t calling the shots onourrelationship this time. This is a joint decision.” She gestured between the two of us, and I nodded, acquiescing. “I told you I’d give you the day. The day’s up. We’re contacting him tomorrow.”

“Can you give me until after lunch? I want to tell them first.”

“Fine.” She settled back into my arms and sighed. “I don’t want to let him go, either, but I’m worried about you coming out to your parents.”

“I’ll be okay,” I murmured, trying to sound convincing.

We fell quiet then, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts. Kam got a couple of hours of fitful sleep, but I was still lying awake when dawn broke.

The anxious flutters in my belly had turned to cramps, and the measured, deep breaths I’d been working on regulating had disappeared. Instead I was practically hyperventilating. I was a basket case, but with every hour that passed, my resolve had solidified. I was as ready as I’d ever be.

We were silent as the rideshare took us to my childhood home. I held Kam’s hand tight. She was the only thing keeping me in the car. Nerves had turned to outright dread about an hour earlier, and I’d puked my guts up twice before managing to get my ass out of the hotel into the car.

I felt like I was about to be delivered to the executioner.