Boy Story: The Road Taken - 49. Coming Out For The Holidays?

Coming Out For The Holidays?

[Here’s just a few quick words about Thanksgiving for our non-American readers. The rest of you can skip these first two paragraphs. Thanksgiving is a holiday in the United States that commemorates when the first continuous Anglo settlement was established in the Americas by religious pilgrims from England. They were looking for a place where they could practice their puritan religious beliefs in peace. After a 66-day voyage across the Atlantic in 1620, they set upon land at a place they named Plymouth (after the English port they had sailed from) in what is now the state of Massachusetts. According to written accounts, they planned a feast to be held on the third Thursday in November to give thanks to God for a bountiful harvest and a mostly safe passage. They also invited the local native tribe, who actually brought the bulk of the food, to join in the celebration.

We celebrate this historic event every year on the third Thursday in November by feasting on turkey and loads of side dishes. All schools, universities, and many businesses also get the next day off too making it a true long weekend. Thanksgiving weekend is also the traditional beginning of the Christmas shopping season with that Friday dubbed Black Friday.]

I dropped Parker off at his house on Wednesday after classes as we were entering Thanksgiving break in late November. He and his mom were going over to Helen & John's house for the holiday. Cousin Jessica would be there too to keep Parker company, not as well as I could keep Parker company, but any port in a storm. From Parker's house, I was heading straight home to be with my family for the holiday.

Parker and I hugged and kissed good-bye. He whispered in my ear, “You want to go up to my room for a while?”

Since there were several days before the next swimming event, I had done my boyfriendly duty the night before by giving it to him long and hard. Therefore, I figured I could refuse him without too much of a struggle

“I really do have to go, Parker. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Yeah, but it's not your heart that I want to make grow,” he said with a wink. “C'mon, I'm not going to see you for FOUR WHOLE DAYS! Will you at least let me blow you? Pleeeeeeease?”

If you’re a guy, how often in life does someone you’re attracted to beg to blow you? I could not resist him pleading for anything, especially if it was about giving me pleasure. Plus his mother wasn’t home at the time, so resistance was futile.

I caved. We went to his room. I stood. He kneeled. He bobbed. I came. He swallowed. It was over in about 12 minutes. He knew how to get me off without breaking a sweat. That boy's mouth was a well-trained and highly adept machine, perfect for the task at hand...or throat as it were. He ended the encounter with a “See? Wasn't that worth it?”

When I regained my composure, I saw him there kneeling and jerking himself. I couldn't let his good work go unrewarded. So I reached down and helped him up and out of his jeans and underwear. I then pushed him down on the bed and hoped to return the favor...or in this case perhaps, the flavor. It worked. Not long into it, I felt his warm shots hitting the roof of my mouth. That's when he grabbed me and started kissing me, and we ended up sharing his cream. He was a boy who was not averse to taste test his output every once in a while.

When the cream was gone and the last kisses were traded, I said “Wow, that was interesting.”

“So you've acquired a taste for it now, haven't you?” he commented.

“No, it's more like I think I've acquired a taste for you,” I clarified.

“Well, that's something we can remember each other by...until we are together again,” he declared.

It was difficult to go. Almost every night since June when I started living at Parker's home, he slept next to me. Well, we slept nude and wrapped around each other is more like it. This arrangement helped me relax and sleep really well. On the few times I slept without him in bed, I didn't sleep so well. Maybe it was just a mental thing, but sleeping I find to be mostly about relaxing…and where does relaxing actually begin but in the brain.

On my drive back home, I began to play out in my mind how Thanksgiving would unfold. It will be me, Mom & Dad, Missy (my sister), and my brother Greg and his fiancée Julie. The little tête-à-tête I had over Parker’s house had me running a little behind, but I still planned to arrive by dinnertime. I knew Missy would be at work and Greg and Julie wouldn’t be there until the next day for Thanksgiving. I then realized that I would have my parents all to myself for a few hours.

Then this kernel of an idea popped into my head and continued to grow throughout the drive home. While I had my mother and father all to myself, what if I told them? Parker had become such an important part of my life, they need to know sooner or later. But what do I tell them?

I don’t ascribe to being gay. I guess I have to stick with bisexual, but that leaves the door open, like I’m going to go back to girls when I get this out of my system. My parents had gotten used to my sister and her ever-changing phases. I didn’t want them to see Parker as a phase because his place in my life deserves so much more than that. The idea started out so focused, but now I was getting lost in the details.

I think my dad is so steadfast in pushing his children toward a college education that he won’t simply pull the rug out from under me. He could, but that would be against his stand on entering adulthood with a solid education. The question here became: Is my father more concerned with education or sexual orientation? And are they mutually exclusive?

For every mile I drove, the resolve in me continued to build. I just didn’t know if I’d chicken out when I was in their presence. It’s one thing to want to do something, but unquestionably another to actually follow through with it.

As soon as I got in the door and wrestled with the dog, I could smell something really appealing coming from the kitchen. My mother was cooking Cornish game hens for dinner.

“Hey Mom, something sure smells good,” I said entering the kitchen and kissing my mother.

“Oh, hello Matthew! You’re just in time for dinner!” my mother called out as she pulled a tray of six hens out of the oven. “After all that cafeteria food they serve you, I bet you are in the mood for a home-cooked meal for a change.”

“Sure, but who are you expecting for dinner? Looks like you’re cooking for an army,” I told her.

“No, just cooking for you, me, your father, and maybe your sister. She’s working at the restaurant tonight. But these hens are small, so you’ll probably want two,” she suggested.

My father came in the room. “Hey, the college boy is in the house!” he said walking over and giving me a hug.

We sat for dinner and chatted about everything under the sun…well, almost everything. The meal was very good and I complimented my mother a couple of times on her cooking prowess. The food back on campus had been crap in past years. The food service company was fired after last year and a new one was hired on a trial basis. Now the food on campus was actually the best it had ever been…but my mother didn’t have to know that.

While we took our usual break before dessert, there were a few minutes at the table to catch up on the latest gossip. This is where I would find my opening. I decided rather than try to work out the conversation in my head beforehand, I would just wing it. Maybe it would seem less forced.

“So Mom and Dad, I have something I want to talk to you about,” I opened with.

“Oh, is it about school?” my mother was cautious to ask.

“Yeah, sort of,” I replied.

“You’re not going to drop out, are you?” my mother continued.

“No, what ever gave you that idea?”

“Well, your cousin Brian dropped out midway through college. I’m sure that’s very common.”

“Yeah, because he got a good job offer before finishing,” I informed her.

“Is it your grades? I always say they work you students too hard,” my mother again responded.

“No, no, nothing like that!” I said.

“Let the boy speak!” my Dad broke in to keep my mother from interrupting again.

“Um, well, I’ve been seeing someone,” I tried.

There was a slight pause to process the information. “You mean like dating?” my father finally replied.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“You didn’t get anyone pregnant, did you?”

“Hell no!” I spat out.

“Oh Jim, you know our boy wouldn’t do that, right Matthew?” Mom scolded him.

“Well, I know a number of good boys from good families who have made an error in judgment while away at college. Look, kids are away from home for their first time in their lives and there are temptations and alcohol and drugs all around…it happens more than you’d think,” Dad elaborated.

“No, I didn’t get anyone pregnant. That would be horrible,” I tried to leverage the fact that an unwanted pregnancy would be worse than what I had to tell them.

“I’ve been seeing someone and it’s getting serious,” I managed.

“Oh, my! Well, that’s wonderful, Matthew!” my mother replied. “When do we get to meet her?”

“Well, uh, the thing is, um, it’s not a girl,” I said suddenly unable to catch my breath.

Silence.

"You mean an older woman?" my father inquired.

"No, not of the female gender, so to speak," I tried to get back on track.

“What? Do you mean it’s one of those transformers or whatever they are?” my Dad questioned.

“No, Dad, it’s not a transgender. You see, I’m dating a guy,” I confessed.

Silence. My mother looked at my Dad and then me back and forth a bunch of times not saying a word. It was so silent I could hear the wall clock in the kitchen tick, tick, tick. I suddenly felt sweaty. I was surely going to throw up.

“How old is this guy?” my Dad asked slowly and deliberately. Huh? I guess he was just making sure I wasn’t being taken advantage of by a much older guy.

“He’s not old, Dad. He is another student.”

“Oh, I see,” my father said somewhat relieved.

“Oh, another student,” my mother parroted back not sure what else to say.

“So what, are you saying? You’re gay now?” my father asked.

“Well, I’m not sure. I guess you can label me bisexual for the simple fact that I am in a relationship with another boy,” I clarified.

“When you say ‘boy’…we are talking about a college student, right?”

“Yes, Dad. I’m using the term ‘boy’ generically. You’ve actually met him.”

“It’s Joe!”

“No, no, no, it’s not Joe,” I corrected him.

“But you said I know him?”

“No, I said you met him. Remember our last trip to the diner?”

“Oh, you mean the good-looking blond boy…what was it…Palmer?”

“It's actually Parker, and yes, he and I are dating,” I said hoping for the best. I couldn’t think of an appropriate term. I certainly couldn’t say we’re sleeping together, we’re in love, we’re a couple, or anything that hints at something more than “dating.” Of course, all of those terms were true, but I didn’t want to make my parents’ heads explode. It was a big step just to get to “dating,” so I had to ease them in.

“Parker? That’s his name?” my mother asked.

“Yes, it is,” I confirmed.

“That’s an unusual name. Is he from a wealthy family?”

“No, they’re, uh, very middle class, I guess.”

“Parker said his parents were divorced,” my father recalled.

“Oh, dear,” my mother whispered with a sigh. “You met him, Jim?”

“Yeah, he seemed like a well-mannered, polite, sociable fellow,” my father explained. “And a big football fan as I recall.” I bit my thumb to prevent laughing out loud.

“What is his last name and where do they live?” my mother continued.

“Parker Campion from Natick,” I answered.

“Jim, do we know anyone from Natick?”

“I think Gene Gallagher’s son moved there after he married.”

“Parker lives about eight miles from campus,” I explained.

“And he doesn’t commute?” my father inquired.

“No, he wanted the full college experience, but still remain close to home.”

After a brief silence, I asked, “So what do you think?”

“Look Matthew, we raised you with our values and within our organizations because we thought it was to your benefit. Now that you are an adult, it’s up to you to decide if you want to build upon those values or chart your own course. Either way, you’ll always have to live with the consequences of your decisions…good or bad,” my father explained.

“You’re not going to tell me you think I’m doing the wrong thing?”

“I can't say I'm thrilled about it. But what’s right for me, may or may not be what’s right for you. You have to decide that for yourself. That’s why it’s called free will.”

After a brief pause, my father continued. “You know the Wheeler’s old house on the corner?”

“Yeah, they moved, right?” I asked.

“Yes and the house was sold. A month later, I was walking by the house and the yard is beautiful. It looked professionally landscaped. You know how the Wheelers used to keep their yard immaculate until they got too old to keep up with it? Well, now it looks even better. I was out walking the dog, and I see a young woman working in the yard. So I struck up a conversation. She said she and her partner bought the house, and they have done all of the yard work themselves. And she pointed to another young lady who was putting Xmas lights around the bushes. I told her I’ve never seen that property looking so good. And she thanked me. And I said, ‘No, thank you for improving the street and increasing my property value.’ She said she appreciated the kind words.”

“Uh, so what’s the point of that story, Dad?”

“Well, don’t you get it? We now have lesbians living right here in our own neighborhood. They are the most pleasant girls you’d ever want to meet. It doesn’t matter who is doing what to whom just so long as they are good people and act as good neighbors. You know, so it’s not in your face.”

OK, who kidnapped my parents and replaced them? It was then that I realized that my parents had never met a same sex couple before. My father’s only impression of a homosexual was shirtless men on a parade float grabbing their crotches and blocking his way to get new tires. That’s what he must have meant by “in your face.” And the fact that he had already unwittingly met Parker and liked him certainly helped dispel any anxiety about who I was with.

“So, when do the rest of us get to meet him?” my mother asked snapping me from my thoughts.

“Meet?” I managed to spit out. “Who do you mean by us?”

“You know, our immediate family. Why don’t we invite him here for Christmas dinner?” she suggested.

“That’s a splendid idea!” my father followed up.

“Uh, um, I think he has, uh, plans of his own on Christmas,” I stammered.

“Oh, of course he does. Silly me!” my mother shot back. “Well, how about New Year’s Eve? You’ll be off for Christmas break then. You can both come here for a family dinner and stay over, so we get to spend some time together.”

“Spend time? Really?” I managed.

“Sure. Parker seems like a nice fellow. Why not come over and he can meet the family?” my father suggested.

“Oh boy, I can see it now. He won’t even get his coat off!” I joked.

“Oh c’mon, we’re not that embarrassing, are we? Maybe a few bad jokes here and there,” my father maintained.

I truly felt as if I’d stepped into the Twilight Zone. I told my parents I was dating a guy and instead of sending me to sexual orientation reeducation camp, they were inviting him to the house for dinner. Holy shit! Again I ask, who replaced my parents while I was away?

But wait a minute. Do I actually want Parker to come here? Would my parents be overcritical and send him running for the hills? Or would Parker say the wrong thing in their presence. He is not always hyper vigilant with his filter. I certainly don’t want him informing my parents that he’s a size queen. Jesus, imagine trying to explain that one away in front of the whole family!

Yet, the opportunity had presented itself to make great strides in some kind of normal interface between the two things that I loved the most…uh, make that the three things I loved the most…Parker, my family, and our dog Duke. I know Duke will love Parker because he is a good judge of character.

Just then, the front door opened and my sister Missy walked in.

“Hey bro, nice to see you!” she said breaking into a jog to come give me a hug.

“Nice to see you, too!” I replied.

“You can heat up some of this food here for dinner,” my mother offered.

“No thanks, I already ate at work,” she said.

“Well, we’re about to have dessert. You don’t want to miss that,” mom informed her.

“Really? What do we have?”

“Cherry cobbler,” my mother said easing it out of the oven.

“With whipped topping?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m in!” Missy said taking a seat at the table.

“So Matt, what’s new?” she asked.

That was certainly a loaded question. Do my parents want to tell her? Do they want me to tell her? Do they want her to know at all? I looked around for a signal from my parents. My dad finally saved me.

“Well, we were just having a conversation. It seems Matthew has a new flame.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What’s her name?” Missy asked.

“Uh, his name,” I corrected her.

“His name what?” she replied.

“I am seeing someone. And you asked to know his name,” I stated.

“His name?” she questioned.

“Yes, his name is Parker.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, my boyfriend’s name is Parker.”

“No, I mean, you…you’re dating a guy?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed.

“Language, young lady!” my dad broke in.

“My brother, the jock, is dating a guy? If that doesn’t deserve a ‘holy shit’, I don’t know what does,” she proclaimed. “So how’d that happen? Like how did you meet him?”

“It’s a long story, but we originally met in the mall where I work. We struck up a friendship, we went to a movie together, and later we developed feelings for one another,” I tried to sugar coat it.

“Developed feelings? You mean, you slept together right away?”

“No, no. It wasn’t like that!” [Of course it was.]

“Honey, let’s not have any locker room talk at the table,” my father broke in.

“Well, Missy, make sure to keep your New Year’s Eve free, so you can be here this year,” my mother informed her.

“New Year’s Eve? But we never do anything on New Year’s Eve,” Missy recalled.

“Well, this year we are,” my father clarified.

“We are inviting Parker to join us for dinner on New Year’s Eve,” my mother informed her.

“Really? Oh, I wouldn’t miss that for the world!” Missy declared. “Geez, Parker must be hot!”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“He must be hot if he caused you to switch teams,” she explained. “Do you have a picture of him?”

“I don’t have a picture. I think he’s pretty wonderful inside and out,” I tried not to gush. “Dad met him.”

“You did? What was he like?” she asked my dad.

“He’s a good-looking, thin, blond boy. And I was telling your mother earlier that he seemed well mannered, polite, and personable,” my father explained.

“Wow. Dude, you’re so alternative!” Missy pronounced.

“Really? Is that good?” I queried.

“Ha ha. You’re my hero!” she replied.

Whoever figured I’d be my sister’s hero simply by loving a boy?

That was pretty much the goings on before the cherry cobbler dessert. There was no fallout. It turned out much differently than I expected. Perhaps Missy’s ever-changing social types helped grease the skids for me. Perhaps the lesbians moving into the neighborhood had something to do with it. Perhaps the fact that my father had actually met Parker and liked him helped. Or perhaps when a child turns 20, the parenting is done. But needless to say, something had changed drastically between the time I entered college and that Thanksgiving break of my Junior year that worked in my favor.

There would be another small hurdle the next day over Thanksgiving dinner. My brother Greg, who was five years older than me, and his fiancée Julie will be in attendance. Of course, they will be told the latest news. Fortunately, this was not going to be as nerve wracking as telling my parents. My brother and his fiancée were more socially liberal, so it shouldn’t be like reinventing the wheel.

The following day came and so did Greg and Julie. After the usual pleasantries, we were eventually gathered around the table to eat.

“So are you two going to set a date or are you going to keep us in suspense?” my father said to my brother.

“Uh, I don’t know, Dad. We are in this for the long haul, but we don’t want to jump into things until we are financially secure. As you know, a wedding, a honeymoon, buying a house, all of that takes planning…financially and otherwise, so we’re in no rush. We are together now and that’s the most important thing.”

Bang! That last statement reverberated through my whole being. “We are together now and that’s the most important thing.” That was exactly like Parker and me, so I knew where he was coming from. They were living in the moment too! I felt that much closer to my brother at that instant.

“Well, hopefully you’ll tie the knot before these other two, so you can show them how it’s done,” my father advised them.

“Yeah, and we’ll be able to learn from all the mistakes,” my sister added. “Someone has to be the guinea pig…unless it’s Matt, now that he’s found someone.”

“Really? Wow, someone finally snared you, eh?” my brother replied. “What’s her name?”

“This should be good!” my sister snickered.

“His name is Parker,” I said in a hushed tone.

“His name?” my brother repeated to make sure he heard me right.

“Yes, Parker is my dorm mate, my best friend, and my lover.” My immediate family was all gathered together in one place, and now I had laid it all out in front of them. Silence followed for a few seconds while everyone digested that one along with the turkey dinner.

Truth be told, “lover” was further than I was planning to go, but I was on a roll and it just kind of slipped out.

“Matthew, that’s wonderful!” Julie finally broke in. “Isn't it, dear?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. It’s just…I didn’t…wow. That’s great!” Greg tried to say something coherent as Julie needled him in the ribs.

“Yeah, a real shocker, huh?” my sister shared in the aftermath.

“Well, why didn’t you bring him here today?” Julie suggested.

“We’ll all get to meet Parker soon enough. We’re planning a dinner on New Year’s Eve and everyone here will be invited, including Parker,” my mother explained looking at me for emphasis.

Of course, I hadn’t even asked Parker yet, but the New Year’s Eve dinner was already at full throttle.

“Hon, do we have anything planned for New Year’s Eve?” Greg asked Julie.

“We do now!” she said. I was growing to appreciate her supportive manner.

At that point, I was confronted with a barrage of questions from everyone. It was all about Parker and a little bit about me. I had to smile wondering if his ears were burning…or whatever it is that’s supposed to happen when someone is talking about you behind your back.

After dinner, we watched The Wizard of Oz on network TV for the hundredth time, but for the first time in its remastered format on my parents’ projection TV. [It wasn’t like the projection TVs we have today. It was not so bright, not so crisp, but it certainly was big!] At 9:00 I knew Parker would be home, so I snuck away from the movie and called the house. He answered.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” I greeted him.

“Hey Matt, Happy Thanksgiving! I was hoping it was you.”

“Well, who else would be calling at 9:00 on Thanksgiving?”

“Barbara!” he stated.

“Whoa, you’re right. She would!”

“So how was your Thanksgiving?” I asked.

“I am very stuffed and sleepy. How about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” I conceded.

“I feel like I need to go to the gym to work off all of those calories.”

“Hey, you could stand to add those calories to that skinny frame of yours,” I teased.

“Yeah, but it all depends on where they go. Fortunately on you, they all go to your dick! Ha ha.”

“Oh, is that how it works?”

“Apparently.”

“So, uh, do you have plans for, uh, New Year’s Eve?” I posed the question.

“New Year’s Eve? No, that seems so far off right now.”

“Well, put this on your calendar. You’ll be coming over to my parents’ house for New Year’s Eve and staying the night.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Exactly what I said. My boyfriend is invited over for dinner and to spend the holiday weekend with my family and me.”

Three seconds of silence.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Nope. I told them about us.”

“No way! Holy shit!”

“Yup, that’s what my sister said too.”

“Your sister? The whole family?”

“Yup, even my brother and his fiancée!”

“Holy shit! This isn’t like a trap where I come to the door and they abduct me and torture me, is it?”

“Ha ha. I thought you liked it rough.”

“Not that rough!”

“No, I believe some alien craft landed while I was away at school and my parents were replaced with more reasonable facsimiles of themselves.”

“Wow, that’s fucked up,” he replied. “Did you lose any limbs? Did you get your college funding pulled? Did you pass out on the floor? Oh my god, TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!”

“First of all, Parker, you mean the world to me and I love you more than anything in my life. Therefore, it was suddenly obvious to me that I had to tell my family…for better or for worse.”

“Aw, I love you too. But they didn’t freak out?”

“Strangely enough, no. Now if for some reason I don’t show up when classes resume, you’ll know it was all just a ruse and they sent me away somewhere against my will.”

“They wouldn’t do that!”

“Well, I don’t know what these new alien parents are capable of. I’ll have to check around the neighborhood for pods like in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. If I don’t find any pods, we’ll just have to assume my parents have become more socially aware…as insane as that may sound,” I stated.

“Geez, you mean your dad is more accepting than my dad would be?”

“I guess. But I never met your dad.”

“He once said that there aren’t a lot of fags in the world. It’s just a few who get together and make a lot of noise. And that’s who the government listens to,” Parker informed me.

“My sister asked if I had a picture of you. She wanted to see if you were hot,” I said trying to quickly change the subject.

“Ha, ha, ha. I don’t think she’d want to see the photos of me that you took,” he joked.

“I think that would be illegal. You still have those?”

“Of course.

“Remember to keep those well hidden.”

“They are so well hidden, I don’t even know where they are any more.”

“Oh man, what if somebody finds those?”

“Well, they certainly can’t arrest me for taking underage pictures of myself, can they?”

“Hmm, I dunno about that. You know, my sister said I was her hero for being so alternative.”

“Alternative?”

“Yeah, that’s her thing now. Anything that flies in the face of mainstream America.”

“What about your mother?” he asked

“Well, it helped that my father had already met and liked you.”

“Oh really.”

“Yes, you’re his football buddy,” I informed him.

“Ha, ha, ha. No way! I can tell them how much I love tight ends again. That was classic!”

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