Trailer Trash(94)

“Wow,” Nate said, his voice flat. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, whether I like it or not.”

“I’ve already booked you on a flight. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow—”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave—”

“You don’t want to leave Cody, I know.” His dad stood up and came to sit next to him on the bed. He put his hand between Nate’s shoulder blades. It was such a warm, comfortable gesture, a lump rose in Nate’s throat. “This isn’t punishment, Nate.”

“It feels like punishment to me.”

His dad nodded. “I can understand that, but that isn’t my intent, I promise.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Nate, I know you think you love this boy—”

“I do love him.”

His dad sighed and put his face in his hands. “It doesn’t matter.”

Nate’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

His dad sat up, squaring his shoulders, rubbing his hands over his head. For the first time, Nate noticed how thin his dad’s hair was on top. He noticed the wrinkles on his dad’s face, and the gray whiskers in his mustache. It was as if he’d aged ten years overnight.

Had Nate done that to him?

“The thing is,” his dad said, his voice low and hoarse, “talking to your mom made me realize that maybe . . . well, maybe I overreacted.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Nate had been prepared for a fight, not for something that sounded like surrender. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I sat there, listening to the things she was saying—her and Greg both, because he was on the other line—she was talking about some kind of therapy, about camps she’s heard about, and Greg said no stinking faggot was going to live under his roof, and then your mom started talking about military school—”

“Dad, no!”

“—and all I could think was, how can she turn on you like that? You’re her son. She should take your side over Greg’s. She should know how much you’d hate military school. I wanted to tell her she was being a terrible mother, but then I realized I’d done the exact same thing. And so I hung up, and I called Cora.”

Nate couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It hurt, finding out how his mom had reacted, but now his dad seemed to be having a change of heart? He was afraid to ask about that though, so he stuck to the facts at hand. “What did Cora say?”

“She said she always suspected you were . . . like that. Working real estate in Chicago, she’s met all kinds of people. She has friends who are . . . well, who are like you, I guess. And so, I don’t know, Nate. Maybe it doesn’t matter that you’re . . .” He choked, as if he could hardly stand to say the word. “That you’re a homosexual.”

Nate waited, his heart pounding, trying to figure out what this meant. “You mean, you’re not mad anymore?”

“I am. A little. I don’t know. Maybe a lot. But . . .” He sighed again, shaking his head.

“You’re disappointed.”

“A bit. But you have to understand, Nate, it isn’t that I love you less. That’s what I realized after talking to your mother. It might take me a while to get used to the idea, but you’re my son. Nothing can change that.”

The words brought a lump to Nate’s throat. “Really?”

“I want you to be happy. That’s the only thing that matters, but I don’t see how this . . .” He stood up, holding out his hands as if to encompass Nate and his room and the entire situation in one gesture. “How can you ever be happy, knowing what people think? Knowing you can’t ever get married or have kids? I mean, look at what comes from hanging around with a boy like Cody! Maybe if you met the right girl—”

“I don’t think that would matter. And none of this is Cody’s fault.”

His dad sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That’s what Cora said.”

Nate waited, unable to think of anything to say that would make the situation any better. “If you’re not mad, then why are you sending me away?”

“Because this town is no place for somebody like you. You can’t live the life you want to live here. Maybe you really are gay, or maybe it’s a phase, or maybe you’ll meet a woman and realize what you’re feeling right now is just curiosity. But whatever happens, you need to be in a place where there are options. Where you don’t get beaten to a pulp just for being different.”

In some dark corner of his heart, Nate knew his dad was right. He also knew arguing would get him nowhere. “What about Cody?”