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Knock. Knock.
“Piss off.”
However as I lay curled up in a ball on the bed, no sounds of retreating footsteps echoed through the almost silence… The only sound that met my ears was my muffled thin wails.
It was rather pathetic really.
Knock. Knock.
“I said, bugger off,” I snapped, not really in the mood to face my fucking perfect boyfriend.
Knock. Knock.
Sighing in frustration, I sat up and wiped my red-rimmed eyes. I wasn’t mad at Jay, not really… Just jealous, and pissed off, and…
“Just come in then,” I conceded, swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress so that I was in a slightly more dignified position than my previous predicament.
But Jay didn’t scuffle through the door and wrap his arms around me, like I’d expected (or hoped).
It was my mum.
And suddenly, things were ten thousand times more awkward than before.
“Uh…”
Even though I was the idiot with the big mouth, who had stupidly blurted the secret out in a fiery rage of blind anger, mum looked more shaken up than me. Her light frame shivered slightly, her expression downtrodden, hidden under a straggly wave of fine black hair which I had obviously inherited. Hesitantly, she shuffled over and perched herself neatly on the end of the bed, floundering.
Deep down, I felt a small twinge of guilt.
“Hi mum,” I muttered throatily, my croaky voice betraying my fruitless effort to sound calm and composed. Through the dual layers of dark hair between our eyes, I saw small beads of tears form in the corner of mum’s. Shit.
“Uh…”
Why was I so bloody useless at situations like this!? I mean, sure, I never had a close relationship with my parents, but still! You’d think I’d bloody well know how to comfort them! What kind of a useless son was I?
“Mum, I’m-“
“It’s Jay, isn’t it?” she whispered, cutting me off. My mouth stopped mid-word. I simply let it hang there, freely, as my mind frantically tried to come up with some feeble excuse.
“Yeah,” I sighed, resting my face in my hands. A short sob tried to wrench itself from my throat, but I swallowed deeply and forced it back down. The trembling action almost made me feel physically sick.
“He’s a good boy,” mum said quietly. I sat up in shock, her shaky words not quite registering in my mind.
“Uh… Yeah, he is,” I agreed, anxiously chewing on the end of my thumb. Her eyebrows contracted slightly – when I was younger she used to constantly bark at me for this stupid nervous habit. But the yap of reprimand never came; rather, she simply sniffled and bit her lips.
I guess I’d disappointed her enough for one day.
“I’ll just… I can pack my bags as soon as, by the way,” I offered carefully. Her neck snapped up with a painful crick.
“Pack? Ash, what on earth are you talking about?”
My teeth chomped down on my thumb again, so hard they drew blood. Hissing lightly in pain, I tore my hand away from my chattering mouth.
“So I can leave? I mean, you’re Catholic, right? I’m… I’m gay. Generally, Catholics don’t like gay people.”
Mum swallowed, obviously thinking over my proposition. Why the hell wasn’t she jumping at the chance? I knew I’d always been a disappointment, and she knew I knew, so she didn’t even have to pretend.
“Generally, Catholics don’t like gay people,” she agreed, her voice hoarse and scratchy. “But… Ash, you’re my son. No matter what, you take first priority, ok?”
I choked on my own sobs. A few violent coughs later, I managed to wipe my streaming eyes and rasp out a feeble, “‘the fuck?”
I detected a slight quiver in mum’s lips; she was always nagging at me for swearing. But looking at me, sodden with tears and regrets, I think she decided to let it slide.
“You know,” she said slowly, selecting her words carefully so she didn’t start me –or herself– off again. “Linda and I were pregnant around the same time…”
I cringed. “Uh, mum? Much as that’s fantastic, I really would rather skip out on the female anatomy lessons on the ins and outs of pregnancy.”
A hint of a smile twitched at mum’s lips.
“Don’t worry.” She smiled weakly, her tearstained eyes carrying a strange expression. “I won’t.”
I felt a few tears prick at my own and furiously wiped them away. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one day.
“Linda and I…” she carried on. She almost grinned through her sorrowful expression, lost in happy memories of the distant past. “We always joked that our kids would get together… We were actually slightly disappointed when you were born a boy, haha.”
“Oh great,” I mumbled bitterly, clenching my fists. “I’ve been a disappointment from day one then. Smashing.”
“No!” mum interrupted fiercely. I frowned.
“Eh…”
“Ash, you were never a disappointment. Don’t think that. Don’t you dare think that, not even for one second.”
I almost had no response to that. Almost. “But-“
“Ash, your dad and I were never disappointed in you,” mum insisted, tears freely tumbling down her cheeks, leaving small trails of pale flesh in their wake. “We… we just don’t know you, Ash. And fair enough, we haven’t been the best parents, and I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry. But you never gave us a chance, Ash. We tried to relate to you, but you were never interested in us. You were always off doing your own thing…”
I stood there, frozen by the cascade of pent up thoughts and feelings. I’d never thought about how my mum felt before… Well, I had, but I’d… I’d seriously misjudged her. I almost felt worse than before now that I knew I hadn’t given a damn about other people’s feelings.
“Uh… I don’t really know what to say,” I stuttered awkwardly. My mum looked up at me (I’d inherited my short stature from her) and took a deep breath.
“How about giving us a second chance?”
“Or a first chance really,” I joked. “Seeing as I never really liked you much in the first place.”
Mum gave me a wobbly smile. “Always the charmer.”
I winked, laughing despite my horrifically teary state. “Damn straight.”
Mum winced at my choice of words and I immediately bit my lip.
“Um…”
“So, you’re really… really gay then?” she asked, knotting her fingers together in her lap. I gave her a sad half smile.
“Yeah.”
“How- How long?”
I shrugged. “I dunno, I guess. I mean, guys…” I cringed. Why was I explaining this to my mum of all people? “I was never attracted to guys before Jay. Hell, I was never really attracted to anyone before Jay.”
She nodded.
“So, uh, yeah…” I continued lamely, hanging my head in sheer embarrassment. “Maybe only a few months. Maybe all my life. Who knows?” I smacked my lips together, suddenly emotionally exhausted. “Not me anyway.”
“And, er…” Mum’s face was a sad mixture of sympathy, regret and anxiousness. “Does anyone else know?”
I frowned. “Jay, obviously. Lee, Lewis…” I ticked them off on my fingers, one by one. “Lewis’s foster mum, Sandra. Probably his other foster mum too. But yeah… That’s about it.”
Mum looked rather shaken by this new revelation. Probably torn up about how I went to my mate’s foster mums first over her.
“And… and what’s Jay to you?” she enquired, struggling to keep her voice steady. My eyebrows furled together in confusion.
“Huh?”
“Does Jay…” she started, an embarrassed pink blush shining through her tear-stained make-up. “Does Jay… reciprocate your… feelings?”
“God, could you have asked that in a more embarrassing way?” I complained, rubbing my eyes which were still watering uncontrollably. The corner of mum’s tight lips curled up into the beginnings of a hesitant smile.
“Yeah, mum,” I said, sniffing slightly and leaning my head back on the bedpost. “Yeah, he does. He’s… he’s my, uh, boyfriend.”
Mum blinked a few times in shock.
“Since my sixteenth birthday,” I elaborated, since she clearly wanted to know. “Well, we didn’t, eh, ‘get together’ ’till the day after, but… yeah… Same difference, really…”
“Ok.” Mum sighed and pushed herself from the mattress, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Ok.”
“Ok?” I asked warily. “That’s it?”
Mum nodded. “Yes. I think… I think I’ll put a spot of tea on, yeah?”
Shrugging, I folded my legs into a basket on top of the covers. “Sure.”
Just as she was leaving the room, she stopped in her tracks. “Ash?”
“Yeah?”
“I… I love you.”
I swallowed, and gave her a tight-lipped smile. I wasn’t quite ready to say that yet. I still needed time.
And mum left the room, swinging the door wide open to reveal Jay, hiding in the shadows.
“How long have you been there?” I asked as he made his way into the room.
“Um… long enough,” he mumbled. “I didn’t, um… I didn’t want to interrupt you two.”
For the third time that evening, I let out a deep sigh. “I’m such an idiot. Here I was, moaning and groaning, and my mum thinks I hate her guts. What a wonderful fucking son I am, right? Unlike you, Mr Bloody Perfect.”
Jay’s forehead creased into a frown and he flopped onto the bed beside me.
“Know what?” he question seriously, placing his warm hands on my shoulders. My erratic heartbeat immediately sped up.
“What?”
“I think,” he told me, “that you’ve really gotta stop trash talking my boyfriend. He’s an awesome bloke, but he just doesn’t see it. He’s always worried about how people compare him to me… But, um… I’d be flattered if someone compared me to him.”
I grinned crookedly. “You’re all talk,” I accused.
“Am not,” he protested, inching closer and closer to my face until his breath was tickling my lips.
And instead of wasting my time thinking up another retort, I kissed him.
It was slow, it was gentle, it was soft. But hey, the moment called for it, and I still felt dizzy and breathless as I slid my hands onto Jay’s slender neck.
“Um…”
Startled, I pulled away, pushing Jay to the other side of the bed on reflex. My dad was in the door, a white poly bag balanced in his arms, pale faced with shock.
“Um, I’ll go help your mum with the tea,” he mumbled, blushing. Unable to form any coherent sentences, I nodded. He brushed past my dad, not daring to look him in the eye, and shut the door behind him.
My dad cleared his throat. “So… It’s- It’s true then?”
I placed my chin in my palm. “Yup.”
“And… and it’s not a phase?”
“Nope.”
“And Jay’s your… boyfriend?”
“Well spotted,” I spat sarcastically. For the love of God, please don’t tell me that he was fucking homophobic…
“But you don’t…” he began in a strangled voice. “You don’t… act gay.”
“Well, I dunno dad,” I said dryly. “I think the fact I was snogging Jay when you walked in is a pretty fair indication.”
Blushing, dad nodded. “Right.”
He glanced down at the bursting bag in his arms, then up at me. “I’ve, er… I’ve got this for you.”
Needless to say, I was a little bit suspicious. Gingerly, I reached a hand forward and dad slipped to bag onto my wrist. I noted how he didn’t touch my skin, rather, his fingertips grazed my floppy sleeve and he flinched.
“It’s not bloody contagious,” I hissed, drawing my arm back. “In fact, never mind. It’s an airborne virus that infects every living soul who comes within ten feet.”
I saw the hurt flash in dad’s eyes and the guilty feeling was back. He probably felt the same way as mum…
“Look, never mind,” I retracted. “It’s just… never mind.”
Desperate to distract myself from the awkward relationship with my parents, I curiously peered inside the plastic bag.
And I wished I hadn’t.
“Oh my God!” I yelled, dropping the bag and all the contents. A glossy up ‘Gay Times’ magazine slid over and nudged my foot. But that wasn’t what drew my attention.
“Dad…? Why are there STD pamphlets on the floor?”
I don’t think I’ve ever uttered a more embarrassing question in my life.
“Eh… Just making sure that you and Jay are… you know…” Dad’s face was now a tomato colour as he forced the words out. “Safe…”
“Whoa!” I threw my hands up in defence. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop! Dad!”
I couldn’t stop yelling in embarrassment. Fair enough, dad looked as awkward and uncomfortable as I did, but still.
“Dad! I’m a virgin!” I admitted, blowing out my cheeks.
“Oh…”
“Yeah…”
“Well, I’ll, er, go and help your mum with the tea now,” he said gruffly. Licking my lips, I nodded.
Five minutes later, mum, dad, Jay and I all sat round the telly with steaming cups of tea in hand. A stupid comedy was on, the kind were everybody acted ridiculously over the top. Dad was bellowing out loud bursts of deep laughter, while mum managed a few light chuckles now and then. I sipped on my frothy cup quietly, leaning against Jay.
It was weird; we kind of felt like a normal family. We weren’t fixed yet, I knew that much. We all still needed some time, and some space. Yet, as we all sat, crowded round the tiny telly, I could only come up with one adjective to describe the bizarre situation.
‘Nice’.
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