Page 51 of Tone Deaf

My spine snaps straight. “Are you sick? Did you tell the doctor about your cough?”

“Jesus, boy. Calm your jets. It’s only a cough,” he says haughtily. “Now, the reason why I’m calling you—and don’t get mad at me, but I’ve been talking to your mother.”

It’s like a boulder landed square on my chest at his announcement. “Why?”

“Because she’s your family. And you need your family, Pen.”

“You didn’t,” I counter, feeling slightly betrayed. My temper begins to simmer. “I don’t need family like that, Ron.”

“Everyone needs family, so don’t argue with me.”

I rake a hand through my hair in frustration and swallow hard. “What did you two talk about?”

“You.”

I shake my head. “I get that. What else?”

He lets out a loud sigh. “Your mother loves you and wants to talk—wants to understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. She is just frustrated because I won’t listen toherreasons,” I say, feeling a headache coming on.

“She wants to understand why you won’t answer her calls or call her back and talk to her,” Ron further explains.

“That’s it?” I say, slightly surprised. I expected Ron to relay back one of my mother’s passages from the Bible. She’s good at selectively quoting from it.

“Yes. She just misses you and wants to talk. Now tell me, why aren’t you picking up her calls?”

“Because I don’t want to hear her righteous sermons about how being gay is a sin. I’m done with it, Ron,” I convey, as an ache creeps up into my throat, partially strangling me.

While I lived at home, I was spoon fed Catholic pabulum until I was choking on it. Now that I’m free and out of my parents’ household, I can truly be me. I don’t have to worry about who I offend with my sexuality.

“Pen. Listen to me. Life is too short. I know this. And if my parents were still alive, I’d try—I would. I’d try and try to get them to remember the love they had for me. But that isn’t possible for me now. For you, it is. Since your mother is willing to talk, take the chance and maybe you can heal your relationship, and she can grow. Promise me you’ll do this.”

I can’t believe he’s asking me to shred my reticence and take the leap. My parents aren’t willing, so why should I be? “And if she goes back to the way she’s been with me?”

“Well, that is up to her. But I feel you need to give her another chance, Pen,” he says before he starts coughing again—harder this time.

“Are you alright, Ron?” I ask as my pulse escalates into a full gallop.

“Babe, sit back. Here’s some water.” I hear Dean’s voice and I’m quickly relieved that Ron isn’t alone. “Pen?”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“Ron needs rest right now. Can he call you later?” Dean’s rigid tone gives me no room to argue.

“Yeah, yeah. Give him a hug for me,” I say, as I try to swallow the large knot forming at the base of my throat, but the ache intensifies. Ever since Ron was diagnosed with cancer, I’ve been on pins and needles worrying about my friend. “Tell him I will try the next time my mother calls.”

“Umm… Okay, I will,” Dean says before hanging up.

I stand there for a moment, absorbing what wasn’t said. By Dean or by Ron.

Is Ron sicker than he’s letting on? With every phone call before this one, he has sounded good and strong. But is he just that good at hiding how sick he really is? And I can’t believe I agreed to talk to my mother.

“Pen.”

I swivel my head in the direction of the driveway, where Fig and Jordan are walking toward me. “What’s up?” I say, sliding the phone into my back pocket.

“Is everything all right?” Fig asks with concern.