Page 72 of Necessary Time

“It’s exactly how you meant it. I’m getting old, and you’re getting older, and I haven’t started to settle down yet, and you’re getting worried.”

“We just want you to be happy,” she said.

“I am happy.” I shoved my plate away, appetite long gone. “I’m seeing someone and I’m happy.”

Her face morphed from shock to barely restrained joy, her whole body tipping forward as she leaned closer to the table. “Then what’s the problem? Everything is still on track.”

She elbowed my dad, and he made a grunting sound.

“What’s her name?” she asked.

This was it.

There was no going back from here.

“His name,” I whispered, voice scratchy and barely recognizable, even to my own ears.

“Pardon?”

My mom hadn’t heard me, I could tell. She thought she’d misheard the name.

“Hisname,” I repeated, hoping my voice sounded clearer, stronger. “His name is Wesley.”

“His name.”

I nodded.

“A man,” my mom said.

I nodded again.

“You’re…”

“Are you gay?” my dad asked.

I cleared my throat, answering with a much smaller nod. My cheeks burned and I didn’t dare bring my gaze upward. I could hear the disappointment in their voices; I didn’t want to also see it in their face.

“This is absurd.” My mom followed her assessment up with a tight laugh that was sharp enough to force my attention across the table.

“I’m in a relationship with another man,” I said.

I was terrified, knee bouncing faster than I’d ever felt it move. The truth was terrifying, and my feet were still rooted in place, but the more I said the words, the easier they were to say.

“His name is Wesley, and—”

“Enough, Colin,” my dad cut me off, folding his crossword closed and setting his pencil down on top of the paper.

“I know this isn’t expected,” I said, ready to apologize, ready to explain.

“I still don’t think I understand,” my mom said.

“He has a boyfriend,” my dad said to her, “not a girlfriend.”

“Like one of those…” she trailed off.

The conversation wasn’t going well, but it also wasn’t going as bad as I thought. But I knew if I stayed, it would get worse. My mom was confused, or pretending to be, and my dad was far from pleased. Every syllable of resistance reinforced my commitment to Wesley, and all of that together was a perfect storm that I needed to save myself from.

It took every ounce of strength in my body to push the chair away from the table and stand up.