Noah and Jordan - 19. Chapter Nineteen

*** JORDAN ***

Ever since childhood, I remember being taught in school about the importance of family. That nothing is stronger than a bond between a child and their parents. That friends aren’t always forever, but family is. Both of my parents would love me unconditionally. They would be there to lift me up when I fell, hold my hand and guide me through obstacles, and help mark the major milestones in my life. Even those cheesy television shows from my childhood reinforced the notion of a nuclear family. These perfect suburban households that were able to overcome all of their problems usually in less than half an hour.

But here’s the real problem, there is no such thing as a perfect family. We fall into this trap to create the perfect family. But families are complex. They can be flawed. Sometimes they don’t solve all of our problems. Sometimes, they’re the source of them.

——— 

There really is no place like home. I always get this warm feeling in my heart walking up the concrete steps, knocking on the door, and seeing my mom open the door with a big smile on her face, and brightness in her eyes.

Then there is the completely different feeling. The one where you think, am I at the right house?

“You must be Jordan,” a strange man says after opening the door. At least he knows who I am. The question is, who is he?

“Yeah ... I’m sorry, you are?”

“Jordan!” My mom yells as she comes into view. Finally, someone I recognize! “You're home! It’s so good to see you. Come in, come in!” She wraps her arms around me and gives me a big hug.

“It’s good to be home,” I reply.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow?” she asks.

“Nope, this is the flight you asked me to take,” I say looking at her and then at the man who looks awfully unsure of what to do.

“Sorry, where are my manners,” my mom says, “Jordan this is my co-worker, Michael. And Michael this is my son, Jordan.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say to him.

“Nice to meet you as well,” he replies.

We all just stare at each other for a moment.

“Jordan, why don’t you go put your things in your room, freshen up, and I'll make you a bite to eat,” my mom says. She is clearly trying to get rid of me.

“Sure, sounds good.” I also want to get away from this rather odd encounter. There is this weird tension in the room with the way my mom is looking at that guy. She looks guilty. Something tells me he might be more than just a co-worker. I throw my stuff onto my bed and grab my phone. I've already texted Noah a dozen times since my flight landed.

“Just got home. Something strange is afoot. Text you when I know more.”

A few seconds later he responds back. “Afoot? Really? Weirdo. You've been home for a minute, what trouble has your foot gotten into already?”

“Going to go eat, will talk when I'm back,” I text him before going downstairs.

“Where did Michael go?” I ask when I enter the kitchen.

“Oh, he had to run,” my mom says. “What would you like to eat?”

“Whatever you have is fine.” I know she is trying to change the subject. “You know Mom, it’s okay if you want to date again.”

“We’re not …” she starts to say. But she knows she isn’t fooling anyone. “Were we that obvious?”

“Yep.”

So, my mom is dating again. I honestly can't say I saw that coming. It’s weird to think about it, my mom with another guy. She’s never shown even the slightest interest in dating someone after the divorce. But then again, she never did have the time what with taking care of me and trying to make enough to put food on the table. It only makes sense now that I’m all grown up and off at university, that she gets back out there. I’m sure it gets lonely in this house.

“I don’t know, Jordan, sometimes I think I'm just too old for all of this,” she says.

“You’re not too old. And if it’s any indication from the way Michael was looking at you, he doesn’t think you’re too old either.”

“It’s nothing serious. I just thought ... but only if you're okay with this. If you're not —”

“Mom, I'm happy with whatever makes you happy. Just don't go run off and get married and ditch me, okay?”

“Jordan, I would never!”

“I know, I know, I'm just bugging you. And I’m totally going to vet Michael, to see if he’s up to my standard.”

“Really?” she asks laughing.

“Absolutely. You deserve only the best.”

“Speaking of dating, how’s it going with that girl you’re seeing?”

So, here’s how it is. Technically, I didn’t actually tell my mom I broke up with Jenn. But I never said we’re still together. I just told her that I am still dating. Which is true. She just assumes I mean Jenn. I never corrected her. So, I’m not really lying, per say.

I’ve thought a lot about telling my mom. I know, deep down inside my heart, she will be okay and that she’ll accept me with open arms. But I still have this nagging fear, this doubt, lodged deep within my soul that she might reject me. To help get rid of that fear I figured I would broach the subject over the next few days. I don’t want to say anything before Christmas. Once I get a sense of her views on homosexuality, and once the holiday is over, I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her I’m dating a guy named Noah. I told him about my plan. He gave me his full support. That helps. It gives me strength to tell her the truth. But for now, vagueness is my friend.

“Things are going well with my partner.” Now I need to change the topic before she asks a follow up question. “Hey, so I was thinking for Christmas …”

We spend the next few hours talking about school, my exams, her job, life in general. She interrogates me on all of the meals I want to eat while I’m at home. After she is thoroughly satisfied with all of my answers, she leaves to grab some items from the grocery store. Her timing is perfect. I can call Noah and talk to him freely without the fear of being overheard.

The thought of hearing Noah’s voice gets me excited again. It took a long time to calm down after that kiss at the airport. I was not expecting that type of goodbye! I still can’t believe I kissed him, or that he said he loved me! And I said it too! I’ve been DYING to get those words off of my chest. It felt as if they were perched just at the tip of my tongue, waiting to be set free. I was worried every time we were together the words would escape, and that Noah would retreat back into his shell. He did say after all he wanted to slow down. But instead, he said he loved me! It was music to my ears. It filled my soul with an emotion I can’t even describe. In that moment nothing else mattered, no one else mattered, except the two of us. And so, I kissed him. Fuck the world. Let them stare.

“Hey, Jordan,” he says answering the phone.

“Hi, Noah.”

“How was your flight?”

“Fine, took off on time, landed early. No complaints. How was your day? Anything exciting happen?”

“No, not really. Well actually, I went to the airport to drop someone off and this random guy just came up to me and kissed me.”

“A random guy, eh?” So, this is how he is going to play it.

“Yeah. Weird, no?”

“Very weird. Did you like it?”

“Well, it wasn't bad.”

“Oh, wasn't bad. Huh. That's interesting because I too was at the airport today and some random guy just came up to me and started rambling incoherently until he professed his undying love for me. Poor fellow, he really did look nervous.”

“Oh, that happens all the time,” Noah says. “You know how it is, big cities, weird people. And I'm sure that guy, that honest, sincere, handsome, virtually flawless, amazing guy, was just, you know, a bit nervous. It’s not easy to profess one’s love."

“No, it’s not, but I'm glad he did. Alright, now can we please talk like normal people?”

He laughs. “Fine.”

“So, how do you feel?” I ask him.

“I feel good. My heart rate is finally back to normal. For a while I was convinced it would literally leap right out of my chest.”

“I know the feeling! It took me a long time to calm down. It all caught me by surprise. I was not expecting that goodbye.”

“Because I said I wanted to take things slow? And then did the opposite? Yeah, I didn’t really follow my own advice there, did I? I know I’ve been sending mix signals. And I'm sorry. It’s just you were leaving and I wanted you to know how I feel about you. It didn’t make sense to keep it all in. Plus, I kind of wanted to be the first to say ‘I love you’.”

“What? What are you talking about? I said it first!” He is so not taking this away from me.

“You were half asleep. You didn’t even realize you said it! That doesn’t count.”

“It totally counts! You heard. You freaked out. It so counts! And, for the record, I would have said it earlier had you not asked me to slow down.”

“One, I didn’t freak out. Maybe only a little. And two, just to be clear then, are you saying I should hold you to your word anytime you mumble something in your sleep? Because you’re a mumbler.”

Oh, how he makes me laugh. “Only if I say something that benefits me, yes. If it doesn’t, then no.”

“Right, that seems logical. But in all seriousness, you’re ok? You’re not worried or scared?”

“Why would I be worried or scared?”

“That things will change between us,” he says.

“Change can be good. We’ll be even closer now. But nothing has to drastically change if we don't want it to,” I say. “We’re still the same people.”

“That’s true.”

“And about that kiss, I know how you feel about being together in public. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I wasn't really thinking. I just kind of got swept up in the moment.”

“Jordan, that kiss was amazing. It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me, and something I will never forget. Besides, we won't see any of those people again, so who cares.”

“Exactly. And I kind of had to kiss you! You did just tell me you love me for the first time. And I said it for the second!” Yeah, I’m so not letting this go.

“First time you said it while awake —”

I’m distracted by the sound of knocking on my bedroom door. Shit. My mom! When did she get home? And, more importantly, what did she hear?

“Hey, Jordan, sorry to bother you, I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie? A Christmas Carol is on television.”

“Um, sure, I'll be down in two seconds,” I reply to her.

“Take your time,” she says as she closes the door.

“Wow, that was close,” I say to Noah when she’s gone.

“How much do you think she heard?”

“No idea. But I don’t think I said anything suspicious. I’m going to run. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Wait, you never told me what was 'afoot'?”

“Ah, turns out my mom is dating again. I'll fill you in on the details later. Have a good night.”

“You too, bye.”

I want to say I love you again, but I'm not sure if my mom is still around. Plus saying it once in a day is probably good enough. No need to go overboard.

I make my way downstairs and join my mom in the living room. We watch the movie in silence for the most part. But during the commercial break she decides to talk about what she heard.

“It sounds like things are going well with your girlfriend. Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just kind of heard.”

My mom isn’t the type to invade my privacy. She has never been nosey. That’s one thing I love about her. So, I know she didn’t mean to overhear. Also, phew! She thinks I was talking to a girl. Again, not ready to have that conversation just yet.

“Yeah, it’s going really well.”

From the way she looks at me, I can tell that she knows I’m downplaying just how well the relationship is going. She probably heard the ‘I love you’ part. But she doesn’t say anything. She knows I’ll talk when I’m ready.

“That’s good. Just remember to always use protection.”

Awkward.

——— 

I thought the point of being on holidays was to relax. Nope. I’m utterly exhausted! The last few days have been nuts! The day after I got home my mom woke me up at five in the morning! That's right, five o’clock! I never get up that early, even when I have school. We had to leave bright and early to avoid traffic. It took us several hours to get to my aunt's place. I have no idea why she decided to go live out in the middle of nowhere! Now, usually when we go, we have a great time. It’s nice, quiet, and relaxing. Not this trip.

My aunt has two young boys and a girl, ages two, four and six, who are full of energy. They never stop. Since we don't see them often, the kids wanted to spend every single second they were awake playing a game with me. There was Lego, there were blocks, action figures, dolls, colouring, cars, you name it! They'd get up super early and stay up super late. I don't know how they are so energetic! I'm not that old, but I could barely keep up!

The days we were not at home we went into town. The nearest town, by the way, was an hour away. So, it wasn’t always a quick trip. We went shopping, for dinner. I took the kids to the movies. One day we went tobogganing. I honesty had a lot of fun.

The only drawback to this trip, I barely had any time to talk to Noah. We did message each other a fair bit, though the reception wasn't great up there. We couldn't FaceTime or talk on the phone because I was never alone! At one point in time my aunt actually tried to take my phone away because she said I was there to spend time with the family, not stare at a screen.

On many occasions I wished Noah was there with me. I know he would have loved spending time with the kids, and that they would have loved him too. I have a feeling he’s good with children. Maybe one day we will have our own. Though, I know that is way, way, way in the future.

“When I get home,” I say to my mom as we drive back, “I’m going to fall asleep and not wake up for three days, so don't bug me.”

“You deserve it. It’s been a busy few days.”

“It has. I don’t know where those kids get all of that energy from! It’s not even like they eat a lot of sugar.”

“It’s because they adore you.”

“They’re good kids. It’s too bad we weren’t able to stay for Christmas. It would have been fun to be with them. And what is our plan, anyway? I know you have to work that day.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” she says to me. “Your father wants you to spend Christmas with him this year.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to go in a couple of days.”

“No, I mean he wants you to be there on Christmas Day.”

“Why? I don’t remember the last time I saw him on Christmas Day.”

“Because he’s your father.”

“He’s never acted like one.”

“Jordan …”

“Yeah, I’m going to pass. I agreed to spend time with him after. I think that’s more than enough.”

“The decision is yours. Whatever you decide, is fine. Just think about it, okay?”

“I just don’t understand why he cares now,” I say trying to control my anger. “Not once before did he ever try to reach out.”

“Sometimes you only realize your mistakes many years later.”

“Has he realized them though? Or is it because he’s sick and he made poor health choices, and now he needs us?”

“Look, I can’t speak for your father or for his motivations. Or if he has actually changed. What I can say is that it appears he is trying to make amends. I know the two of you have had a difficult relationship. And I know deep down you also want to fix that. This may be that opportunity. I don’t want you to look back to this time and regret not going. But as I said, the decision is yours. Just think about it for a few days. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

——— 

Never in my life have I wanted something so badly – to hear Noah’s voice, to see his beautiful face. To hold him. The last part isn’t possible, at least not yet, but the first two are. He is still in the city, his flight back home isn’t for a few more hours. This may be the last time we’re able to openly talk to one another. Who knows what the situation will be like when Noah is back at his parents' house? As soon as my mom leaves our house, I call him on FaceTime.

“Hey,” he says with a smile.

It’s so nice to see his beautiful face again. How I’ve missed him.

“Hey. It’s good to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m doing okay. I miss you, though.”

“I miss you too! Are you all packed?” I ask.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready to go. How was your trip? Did you just get back?”

“Yeah, we just got a back a short time ago.”

“How did it go? Did you have fun?”

“Hectic, crazy, busy, exhausting and lonely without you.”

I fill him in on just how crazy the past few days have been, and just how much I’ve missed him.

“Well, only two more weeks,” he says, “then we'll be living together, and you'll be sick of me.”

“I don't think I'll ever get sick of you. Though, something did occur to me while on this trip. You may get sick of me. You’ve seen my room. I’m not the cleanest person in the world. And you seem to hate even a small mess. So …”

“So, you could just pick up after yourself,” he says.

“I’ll try. I’m just pretty lazy when it comes to that stuff. My aunt that I just visited, she is super clean. Her husband is not. And I could tell it really annoyed her. And they fought about it all the time. I don't want us to fight, and I don’t want to lose you over something so trivial.” Some of those fights were a bit awkward!

“You won't lose me over a pair of socks. Though, dirty underwear on the floor will mean you sleep on the couch that night. All joking aside, I know what you mean. I know we don’t see eye-to-eye when it comes to cleaning. But I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Or we’ll kill each other. As long as we’re patient with each other and compromise I think we will be okay. Plus, you could always just throw your socks into the hamper.”

“I could. And honestly, I’ll try. It's worth the extra effort if it means I get to be close to you whenever I want. Plus, we'll be able to have a lot more fun in bed together. Just think about all the positions we could try!” Just the thought is making me horny!

“I'm so glad you’re back in civilization and we can finally talk again!”

“Well, I may not be back for long.”

“Why?”

“Turns out my dad wants me to spend Christmas Day with him this year.”

“Oh, I thought you were going after Christmas?” he asks.

“I did too. But he wants me to come before.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

That’s a complicated question. I pause for a moment to collect my thoughts before I answer.

“I don't know. I don’t know what to do. My mom thinks I should go.”

“What do you think you should do?”

“Part of me feels like I should go … but then another part thinks I’d be a fool to go.”

“You wouldn’t be a fool,” Noah says.

“It’s just he’s never been there for me when I needed him, so why should I be there for him when he needs me now? Every year when I was a kid, I would see families together during the holidays. He wouldn’t even call on Christmas. He never sent me a present, not that I needed anything from him. It’s the thought that counts. But he just didn’t care. He was always off living his own life. And I've lived my life without him up to this point. I was okay to move on. I don’t need him anymore.”

“I understand, and you have every right to be angry. But you also said part of you feels like you should go. Why?”

“Because maybe he has changed. My mom says he’s been trying to make a bit more of an effort. The fact that he even wants to spend time during the holidays is surprising. Maybe he finally has realized he was wrong. Maybe he wants to make amends.”

“And do you want to make amends?” he asks.

I don’t respond right away. “Yes … no … I don’t know. I just have this feeling in my gut that I’m getting my hopes up for nothing.”

“Maybe. Or maybe if you go it will help bridge a new relationship with your father.”

“It's not easy just letting go of the past.” I’ve tried. I’ve tried to let go of this anger, but every time I do, something happens and all of those emotions come back.

“I know it’s not. You can’t just erase the last few years.”

“So, what do I do?” I’m hoping he has the answer.

“Do what feels right to you.”

That doesn’t help. “But do you think I should go?” I ask. I want to know his opinion.

“It’s hard to say, because I’ve never been in your shoes. I have an idea of the pain you felt growing up, but that doesn’t mean I know what you went through. That said, if I had to venture a guess, I think you’ll go.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I know you’re a good guy, with a huge heart. I know deep down you want to be on better terms with your dad. That even though you have legitimate grievances, you’re willing to put those aside, if it means you can repair your relationship. It takes a strong person to be able to forgive someone who has hurt you so much. And I don’t know anyone stronger than you. No matter what happens, whether it works or not, one thing is for sure, you’re not a fool. You are a brave, kind and amazing man.”

“I hate you.”

“Why?”

“Because I was hoping you would give me a good reason not to go,” I say.

“I’m not saying you should go, or that you shouldn’t. What I’m saying is that I will support you no matter what you decide. I know this is not easy.”

“It’s not. But I promised my mom I would think about it and I will.”

“If there is anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“Can you fast forward time so it’s January already and we’re back together?” I ask.

“Sorry man, as much as I would love to, I can't do that.”

“Well, then you're not much of a boyfriend, are you?”

“I guess not. But while I can’t help you with time travel, there is something else I can do.”

“And what’s that?”

“You said you’re alone, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, because I’m trying to show you how good of a boyfriend I can be.”

“How so?” Now I’m curious.

“Just relax.” He places his phone on his desk and then takes off my shirt. “Now imagine I am there with you.”

“Ooh, I like where this is going already …” I didn’t think Noah would be into phone sex!

“Shh. No talking. I place my soft lips on yours, and slowly make you open your mouth. Our warm tongues intertwine as I move in closer to your body. I bring my hand to the back of your head, running it through your silky hair, as we kiss deeply. All the while my other hand traces down your hard pecs, over your abs and rests on your eagerly waiting dick. I stroke it gently through your clothes, making it harder with each touch. Once it is nice and hard, I place my thumbs into your waistband and pull off your pants. That's a cue, by the way, for you to take off your pants.”

“Gotcha,” I say as I rip off my clothes.

“I then turn my attention to your dick, still trapped in your boxers.”

“Who said I was wearing any?” I point the phone down to show my free and very hard dick.

“Wow, you really are ahead of me. Okay. Moving on. I wrap your cock around my fingers, and start to slowly move my hand up and down. With each push a little more pre-cum oozes out from the top. I lower my head and lick the top of your dick, tasting you. You shiver with excitement as the warmth of my breath penetrates inside your skin. I tease you, licking the top a few times before engulfing your cock into my mouth. I move down rapidly, lavishing your dick with my tongue. I taste each and every inch as you start to feel the intensity rising in your body. My hands meanwhile roam over your body, feeling you, massaging you. I run my tongue along the rim of your dick, across the slit and back down again. I move to your balls, and taste each one in turn. But of course, I don't forget your prized possession, your magnificent cock, I have to keep that hard for the next act.”

“Fuck, Noah you’re good ... I'm really hard,” I say as I play with my dick.

“Don't cum just yet; I'm far from done. I can feel the tension in your dick so I lay off. I grab some lube from the counter and spread it around my hole, and then around your erection. As I look into your eyes, and see the mischievous smile on your face, I lower myself down, easing you into me. The head pops in as I slowly sit down. I grab the backboard to steady myself, and slowly lift myself back up again. After taking a few seconds to adjust I start to ride you; and I mean ride you. My ass slaps across your skin constantly as our bodies heave in sweat. With each thrust I press down harder, burying your magnificent dick deep inside my ass. You start to meet my thrusts and push into me harder, and faster, and harder, and deeper as I scream out your name. The intensity is rising in your body, I can feel it, I can hear it through your staggered breath. You start to get closer and I slow down almost to a snail's pace. I let your body relax. I let your body ease. And then without any notice, you throw me onto my back, and fuck me hard, relentlessly and without mercy.”

I can picture it in my head. Him on his back. Me leaning over. Fucking him. Him moaning. It’s enough to push me over the edge.

“Fuck, I'm there ... shit!” Blasts of cum hit my chest. “Whoa ... you're good,” I say in-between breaths.

My orgasm is enough to send him over the top too. His dick erupts, sending cum all over his body. He looks so fucking sexy.

“Still think I’m not much of a boyfriend?” he asks with a smile.

“The fucking best! I hadn't jerked off in days! And I really needed that. It felt so good!”

“At least let me see the results of my hard word,” he says.

I lower my phone to show him the mess I’ve made. He smiles.

“Now I want you even more! I want to do the real thing!” I say.

“Well, this is as close as you're going to get for a while, so savour it my friend. Now go clean up. I have a flight to catch. I love you!”

“I love you too.”

———

One shot. That’s all he gets. Just one more shot. If he screws this up, then I’m done with my dad. This is his final chance.

After my talk with Noah, I thought about what I should do. I then got a call from one of my dad’s sisters. My dad has a relatively large family. But after the divorce, we barely heard from any of them, except for this one sister. She has always been kind to me and my mom. She’s the only one who will acknowledge that my dad wasn’t a saint. His other siblings act as if he was perfect, and the marriage only fell apart because of my mom. But this one sister is different. I really like her and her family. We don’t really see each other often though; she lives just a bit further from my dad.

The reason my aunt called was because she heard I might be coming into town and wanted to invite me over to her place for dinner. Unfortunately, she won’t be around on Christmas Day. They’re spending time with her in-laws, but she asked me to come over on the night of the 26th. I asked her if I should even bother coming to town, and whether my dad has actually changed. I knew she would tell me the truth. She told me he has changed. That he realizes he made mistakes in the past, and wants to have a better relationship with me. But, she added, she didn’t want to give me any false impressions. She said my dad still has a lot to learn, and that he can still be very selfish. He still doesn’t fully understand the responsibility of being a father. She wanted me to know the truth, so that I don’t set unrealistic expectations. This is why I respect her.

And so, based on what she said, and my conversation with Noah, I decided to go. Two days before Christmas, I'm sitting on a bus watching snow covered hills whiz by as I travel to my father’s house. He lives about an hour and a half away. Even though I still have doubts, I do believe in second chances (or in this case a million chances). Will this turn out to be the right decision? Maybe. But at least if I try and it doesn’t work out, I won’t have any regrets. I’ll know I gave it my all. Besides, I didn’t actually have any plans on Christmas Eve or Day. My mom was going to be at work most of the time. So, I thought I would come.

As I watch the world go by my phone starts to ring. It’s Aiden. I haven’t really spoken to him much over the past few weeks. He is going to be in town as well for the holidays. We were supposed to meet up soon, but I guess we will have to delay our plans by a few days. I still haven’t decided if I am going to tell him about Noah.

“Hey man,” I say answering the phone.

“Dude, what the fuck!”

“That's an interesting greeting,” I reply a bit shocked.

“I just called your house and your mom tells me you’re on a bus!”

“Yeah, I'm on my way to my dad's house. Why?”

“I thought you were going after Christmas?”

“That was the plan, but he asked me to come earlier and spend Christmas Day with him.”

“And you’re going?”

Aiden also knows about my complicated relationship with my dad. I walk him through why I decided to go. He’s surprised, but says I’m making the right decision.

“Where are you?” I ask him.

“I just got back from Australia last night! I thought you were home for a few days and that we were going to hang out. When do you get back?”

I walk him through my schedule. After Christmas, he’s going out of town for a few days. But it turns out we should both be back around New Year’s.

“We can meet then,” I tell Aiden.

“Absolutely. Don’t bail on me again!”

“I’m not bailing! You know very well I would much rather be spending time with you than my dad.”

“I know, man. I’m just giving you a hard time. It’s good that you’re going. I hope this works.”

“So do I,” I say.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I might have some interesting news!”

Just then my phone starts to beep. I’m getting another call. It’s my mom.

“Hey, I’m getting another line. Can I call you back?” I ask Aiden.

“Sure. We’ll talk later. Merry Christmas, jerk.”

“Merry Christmas.”

I switch over to the other line to talk to my mom. She calls to check up on me, to see if I’m okay. She wasn’t surprised I decided to go. She knows the type of person I am. But I could tell she was a bit disappointed I wouldn’t be at home for Christmas. If she asked me to stay, I would have. I’ll always put her before my dad. But she didn’t ask me to. She let me go. This is why I love her so much. Growing up, she never spoke ill of my father, even though he treated her like crap. Some of my friends are from divorced families, and talking to them I know that parental alienation is real. Some parents use their kids as pawns in their fights. But my mom never did that. She never tried to turn me against my father. He did that on his own. I once asked her why she didn’t say bad things about him. She said because she wanted me to form my own opinions about my father, and not be influenced by her experiences or her feelings. It takes a strong parent to be able to do that.

When I step off the bus into the cold winter’s day, I get my first sign of how this trip is going to go. I've been here ten minutes already and there is no sign of my dad. Typical. He always seems to be late for everything. I try calling his cell phone, but of course it’s off. By the time he arrives I’m the only one left waiting at the bus station.

“Hey, Jordan.”

“Hi,” I say getting into the car.

“You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“About an hour.”

“I thought you said your bus was coming at noon?”

“No. 11 o’clock,” I respond with indifference.

“You should have called me.”

“I did, your phone is off.”

“Oh, so how was the bus ride?”

Nice, no apology or anything. “It was fine.”

“Okay. How is school?”

“Good.”

“That's good,” he says.

Wow, I've been with my dad for less than a minute and it seems like we’ve already run out of things to say.

“How are you feeling now?” I ask him.

“I'm fine, doing much better.”

“How is your blood pressure, sugar, cholesterol?”

“Everything is okay.”

“Are they under control?” I ask him.

“They're better.”

“Are they under control?” I ask again.

“No,” he says reluctantly.

“Are you taking your medications?” The last time I came it turned out my dad wasn't even taking his meds properly. He had reduced his doses without consulting his doctor.

“Most of the time.”

“Most of the time! You need to always take them! You need to be careful, you don't want to have another heart attack.”

“I won't, don't worry.”

My dad has never been good at taking care of his health. When I was here this summer, despite his heart attack, he still ate unhealthy oily foods. He didn’t do any of his exercises, or go to rehab. It was really frustrating dealing with him. It seems even now he doesn't really care about taking care of himself.

“Have you been following up with your doctor?” I ask him.

“Yes, Jordan, I can take care of myself.”

I have to bite my lip at that one. There are so many things I could say, so many things I want to say but I won't. I'll be the bigger person, even if it kills me! “I know you can, that's not what I meant. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay,” I say calmly.

“I'm fine.”

The rest of the car trip is spent in silence. Good thing it’s only a short ride to his house.

——— 

I can't say I'm disappointed with the visit to my dad's house. One needs to have expectations to be disappointed. I knew how this would be. We would make small talk here and there, he would ask me about school and we would talk about sports. I knew he would ask me about my mom, and like usual I would give him vague answers. I really hate talking to him about her. If he really cares to know how she is doing he can pick up the phone and find out for himself. Besides those subjects, there isn’t much we talk about. We don’t have much in common. But I’m trying. I’m trying to engage with him, but he isn’t giving me much to work with at all. The conversations are forced, the laughs are contrived, it’s all a show. I don't know who we are trying to fool.

The funny thing is he asked me to come before Christmas so we could spend more time together. Well, here I am on Christmas Eve, sitting on the couch watching television. I have no idea where my father is at the moment. He left around noon. Didn’t say where he was going, or when he would be back. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my holidays. Alone, cranky and bored. I'm watching the first season of Glee because there really is nothing else on right now. Noah gave me the DVD and told me the show was funny. It’s good, but they sing a bit too much for my taste.

I'd much rather be spending time with the people I love, but everyone I know is busy. My mom is at work. Noah is with his own family, and so are pretty much all my friends, so I don't even have anyone to talk to right now. Noah keeps asking how my trip is going, and I’m not proud of this, but I keep lying. I keep telling him it’s going well. I don’t want him to know I’m miserable, because if he knows he’ll be miserable too. He’ll feel bad for telling me to come here, and it’s not his fault. He couldn’t have known this is how it was going to be. I want him to enjoy his holidays. At least one of us should be having some fun. I’ve asked him too how everything is with his family, and so far, he says everything is fine. He’s just been really busy with preparing for Christmas. His family does a big dinner on Christmas Eve. All of his extended family is over at his parents' house right now. I think he said they’re expecting about 40 or so people!

Speaking of dinner, there isn’t anything to eat here, or well anything I want to eat that doesn't come in a can or frozen that you can heat up. And of course, my dad has the car so I can't go out and grab anything to eat either. I ended up making myself a peanut butter sandwich, with what I can only assume is expired bread. Yum! Just what I wanted for Christmas. As for tomorrow, I have no idea what he has planned, if anything. There is no tree, no decorations. It doesn’t look or feel like Christmas at all. I figured it was best not to ask what we’re doing tomorrow. I’ll just go with the flow.

Around ten o'clock at night my dad decides to come home.

“Hey, Jordan.”

“Hi.”

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, just watching television,” I say calmly. I promised myself I would not get angry while I’m here. I’m going to stay calm. But my dad is not making this easy.

“Switch the channel,” he says as he sits down, “the news should be on soon.”

“I'm watching something.”

He looks at the screen and starts making faces. “What the hell is this?”

They're doing a musical number right now. “It's a show called Glee.”

“This is the type of shows you watch?” he asks surprised.

“I'm bored; I have nothing else to do.”

“Then watch sports or something, not this stupid gay show. What the fuck is that guy even wearing?”

He's talking about Kurt, the gay character on the show. I know my dad is a bit of a racist; he’s made questionable comments in the past. It wouldn’t be surprising if he is homophobic too!

“Excuse me?” I reply.

“Those tight pants, and the dancing, he should dress and act like a man. Honestly, there are so many fags on television now. This is what is ruining our children.”

“What's wrong with the way he’s dressed? He’s just expressing himself,” I say getting angry. Control yourself, Jordan. “That doesn’t make him any less manly.”

“Well, he should express himself in the closet.”

“What!?”

“Look, if he wants to be with another guy, that’s up to him. It’s wrong, and weird, but it’s his choice. But he should do that on his own time. I just don’t think it needs to be splashed across television all the time.”

“They're showing the reality of the world we live in. There are many gay people who live in this country. They deserve a voice too.”

“That's the problem with the media and the big cities you live in. They show this kind of stuff and kids think it's okay to choose to be gay.”

“People don't choose to be gay, it’s who they are.” Fuck, I hate him sometimes. I really need to control my anger.

“It’s unnatural. They need to get therapy.”

“Excuse me? The only person who needs to get therapy is …” You know what, he isn’t worth it. I take a deep breath and get up off of the couch. “You know what, watch your news, you might learn something for once.”

I storm upstairs into my room and drop down onto my bed. So, my dad is homophobic. Big surprise. I should go down there right now and tell him I'm gay. I should yell it at him. You have a gay son! Take that. What would he say if he knew I was fucking a guy? I was fucking him several times a week. And he fucked me too. Yeah, that's right, I took it up the ass, and I loved it. And I love him and he loves me too. What would he say to that? Would he think I'm not a man? Would he think something is wrong with me? Would he want me to get therapy too? He is the one that needs therapy. He is the one that is flawed and messed up. There is nothing wrong with being gay. Nothing. It’s who I am. And it’s who I am going to proudly be.

But I’m not going to tell him. Not because I care about his opinion. He can shove his opinion up his ass. No. It’s because he doesn’t deserve to know. He knows nothing about me, it’s painfully obvious. He’s never cared to know. So why should I include him in my life now? Why should he know anything about me when he’s never put in any of the effort? He makes my blood boil. He is so arrogant. I can't believe I am wasting my time here. I'm such a fucking idiot that I thought I could come here and things would be different, that we would bond or something. Clearly, I’m a fool. A fucking fool.

I should just go to bed and forget about this night. I'll make my way through the next few days somehow and then I will be free. Free of him. I close my eyes and try falling asleep but it's no use. I am so angry. I want to scream. I want to pound my fist into the wall or break something. Even though I knew better, part of me thought maybe this time would be different with my dad. All I’ve ever wanted was just to have a normal relationship with him. It didn’t have to be the best relationship; we didn’t need to become best friends. But at least one where we can sit in the same room without driving one another crazy. Sometimes when people have near death experiences they change and they realize what they did was wrong. I thought maybe that’s why my dad changed. But even having a heart attack didn't change my dad. He is still the same guy.

Just a few more days until I’m home.

——— 

I'm not sure what time I fell asleep, but I’m up before dawn. I look outside the window to the street covered in fresh snow. A white Christmas. Usually I'm super excited at this time; the kid inside of me takes over my body. But today that excitement is gone. Soon I make my way downstairs into the empty and dark family room. I just sit there waiting for my dad to come down. I bought him a watch. I know it’s not very thoughtful, but it makes sense, maybe he will be on time for once in his life.

Looking around the house there is no sign it’s the holidays. The room has no warmth or joy. My dad was never big on Christmas even when my parents were married. My mom usually bought the gifts. When they got divorced it became difficult to celebrate Christmas. Because we had a tight budget, our gifts were never outlandish, but my mom always found a way to make everything special. She really does know how to stretch a dollar. Her creativity and her effort are what I love the most. It doesn't feel like Christmas without her.

Sitting here it just reminds me of the contempt that started to foster in my heart for my dad from an early age. I vowed to myself I would never treat my children the way he treated me. I would always be there for their games, concerts and whenever they needed me. We would go on family trips together and spend the weekends doing some sort of activity. I would be their friend, just like my mom is to me.

What makes me sad now is I'm not sure I will ever have a little one who will look up to me. That's the hardest part of being gay, not knowing if I’ll have my own kids. I always pictured I would be sitting by the Christmas tree in some terribly ugly sweater, my arm around my wife, and our two little kids, a boy and a girl, eagerly tearing up the wrapping paper on their gifts. But now that dream seems blurry. I can see myself sitting beside Noah, but that would be it. We could use a surrogate, but that wouldn’t be our child together. We could always adopt too. I would love that child like they were my own. I know there are options out there, but it’s not exactly what I thought my future would hold.

I just sit there staring at the wall for a while with a heavy heart, until my phone starts to buzz. I pick it up and smile.

“Merry Christmas.” It's a text from Noah.

“Merry Christmas You're up early.”

I'm surprised to hear from him at this hour. He’s three hours behind. So, it’s only like two in the morning where he is. Stupid time zones.

“Couldn't sleep. Was thinking of you,” he replies.

“I was thinking of you too.”

“How was Xmas Eve?” Noah asks.

“It was okay,” I respond.

“Did you have fun?”

“It was okay,” I respond again.

“I’m sorry, Jordan.”

“Why?”

“I know it’s not working. You’re not good at hiding things. I’m really sorry.”

He’s a smart guy. “It’s not your fault. It’s just the way it is.”

“Just remember, a lot of people in this world love you for who you are.”

“I know. How was your party?” I ask.

“Good. It was great to see everyone in my family. I had fun. But there was one small problem.”

“What happened?”

“You weren’t there,” he texts.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

We text for a while longer before he heads off to bed.

“Merry Christmas,” Noah says.

“Merry Christmas.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I really feel like holding him right now. Just a bit under two more weeks to go. Then I will be back on campus. I’ll be back with Noah. And away from all of this. Everything will make sense again. When I’m with him we can figure out anything together.

A short time later my mom calls.

“Merry Christmas, Jordan.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“How’s your trip going?”

“It’s okay.” I don't like lying to my mom, but no point in ruining her Christmas too.

“Are you getting along with your dad?”

I know if I tell her the truth she will be upset. “Yes.”

“You're lying.”

Clearly, I’m really bad at this! Both Noah and my mom figured it out in like two seconds.

“What, why do you say that?”

“I'm your mom, I know.”

“It's fine. He’s the same as he always is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don't be, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize for him; he’s responsible for his own actions.”

“You know you can come home early if you want, right?”

“I know. I might just do that. I'll see.”

“Let me know, okay? And try to have a good Christmas. I love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

At some point in time I fall asleep on the couch. I wake up around noon to the sound of my father thumping down the stairs.

“Hey, Dad,” I say as he reaches the bottom.

“Oh, hey, Jordan. I didn’t see you there.”

“Merry Christmas,” I say to him.

“Merry Christmas. Have you eaten anything yet?”

“No.” Can’t eat if there is no food!

“Oh, okay, I can go out and grab something.”

“Here, I got this for you,” I say handing him his Christmas present.

“A watch,” he says after he tears off the wrapping paper. “I already have one.”

“I know, but this is new and I thought you'd like it.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks, it’s nice. Hold on, your gift is upstairs.”

I can hear him rummaging through his closet. It’s obvious he forgot to get me a gift. He comes downstairs a few minutes later with something thrown into a plastic bag. It’s a sweater. Not a new one, clearly. It has no tag on it. And it’s at least two sizes too big.

“It’s okay if you forgot,” I say to him. It honestly is. I wasn’t expecting anything.

“I didn’t forget … I just thought you were coming after Christmas … and I thought I still had time. I’ll get you something better after,” he says.

“It’s okay. This is fine. Thank you.”

“So, what are your plans for today?” he asks.

“Um, you tell me, you invited me here.”

“Right, well tonight I’m going over to my girlfriend's house for dinner. You are more than welcome to join us.”

“I'm sorry, are you're ditching me on Christmas?”

“No, no. I'm not ditching you, you're invited too.”

“No, you said you were going over, and I could join you. What else would I do, exactly?”

“I misspoke. You’re invited too. Melanie would love for you to join us.”

Melanie? Wasn’t he seeing someone named Valerie this summer? Clearly, he is on to a new girlfriend already.

“I came here to spend time with you, not some stranger,” I say.

“She’s not a stranger. Look, if you don’t want to go you don’t have to. We can go grab some food when I’m back.”

Oh, fuck it. The gloves are coming off. Screw being polite.

“So, let me see if I understand this correctly. Basically, you’re going to go out while I stay here alone. And then after, when you’re done, you’ll spend some time with your son, the very son you asked to come early so you could spend Christmas with, but now are ditching. Got it.”

“Look, if you don’t want me to go then I won’t go,” he says rather annoyed. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is that I ditched everyone to come spend time with you, and you don’t even seem to care to spend any time with me. Why did you even invite me here?”

“Excuse me?” he looks shocked.

“Why did you invite me here for Christmas? I was going to come after, but you insisted on spending the holidays with me. Why?”

“Because I want to spend time with you.”

“And how much time have we spent together?”

“Well, you've been busy.”

What the fuck is he talking about? “I've been busy!? Doing what? I've been sitting here on this couch the whole time. I am not busy,” I reply in frustration.

“That is no way to speak to your father.”

“Oh please, don't give me the whole ‘I'm your father’ speech. You've never once acted like my father, so you have no right to say that to me now.”

“I know I haven't been the best father —”

I cut him off. “I'll say.”

“But I’m trying. And you haven't made it easy. You have all of your defences up. You've grown up into this young man and I don't even know where to start a conversation or how to try. You’re so distant.”

“I'm distant? I came all this way to spend time with you. I left my mom and my friends to spend time with you. And what do you do? You take off on Christmas Eve for hours. And now, you’re ditching me for your girlfriend. I’m not the one who is distant. It's you! I’ve been trying to talk to you, to have some sort of a relationship. But you’ve made absolutely no effort.”

“I'm trying Jordan.”

“Well, you’re not trying hard enough.”

“I don't know what you want from me.”

“I want you to at least try to act like a normal father. If you invite someone over, make sure there is at least food in the house. Make a plan. Include them in your life. Spend time with them. Do something! Anything!”

“I'm doing the best I can. I know you're angry with me for when you were a kid and you have every right to be. I made mistakes, I get that. I apologized for that. You can't just stay angry all the time. It's not fair to me either.”

I actually laugh. “It's not fair to you, right.” I can't believe this guy. “It’s not fair to you that you walked out on us. It’s not fair to you that you were never there to support me when I needed it. It’s not fair to you that mom had to work her ass off to pay the bills. That she had to be both by mother and my father. But none of that is fair to you. You’re the victim here. Right. I got it.”

“You think my life has been easy? I’ve had problems too, you know. Fine, I admit, I wasn’t the best dad. I get that. But I’ve also struggled as well. It’s not like I had piles of money. This hasn’t been easy.”

“Look, I know you’re not rich. But how hard is it to pick up a phone? How many times did you call on my birthday? On Christmas? How many volleyball games of mine have you been too? The answer is zero. Not everything is difficult. Not everything requires money. I didn’t need anything from you. I don’t need gifts. Just showing for a second that you cared about me would have been enough. But even that you didn’t do.”

“It’s your mother who has filled your heard with all this poison.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother,” I say with rage. “She didn’t fill my head with anything. She had every right to, but she didn’t. Not once in her life has she spoken ill of you, did you know that? Not once. She always tried to make up for your stupid excuses. Always. Even now she is the one who told me to come, because she thought maybe you had changed, that maybe you finally wanted to have a proper relationship with your son. But I guess she was wrong. I was wrong. You’re still just as selfish. Look,” I say getting up from the couch, “go to your girlfriend’s house, I’ll figure out whatever I need to do. I always did growing up. You were never there when I needed you and you aren't there now either, no big deal.” I start to walk towards the stairs.

“Jordan, wait.”

I don’t stop. When I reach my room I slam the door shut behind me. I can't stay here any longer. I’m going to go crazy if I don't leave. There is no point. He won't change, he never will. I grab my phone to look up the bus schedule. Finally, some luck. There’s one leaving in an hour. I book an Uber, and then quickly throw my stuff into my bag. I leave the sweater my dad gave me on the table. I'm better off without it.

“Where are you going?” my dad asks as I come down the stairs.

“I'm going home,” I reply in a calm voice.

“This is your home.”

“This will never be my home.”

“Jordan, I said I’m sorry. I don't know what more you want from me.”

“I don't want anything from you, not now or ever. I've lived most of my life without you and I’m totally fine living the rest without you as well.”

“Fine, be irrational, you’re just like your mother.”

I really shouldn't say anything. I should just put on my shoes and leave. But I can’t let him have the last word. “I AM just like my mother and you know what, I’m proud of that. Thank God I didn't turn out anything like you.”

With that I shut the door and make my way out into the cold.