Tell Me It's Real(120)

“He really did,” Mom mused happily. “So many faults.”

“So many,” he agreed. “So when I asked her to marry me, I was sure she was going to laugh at me, even if she did love me. It was going to be too fast, I thought she’d say. We were too young. We didn’t really know a thing about each other. But I knew what I wanted, and I wanted her. For the rest of my life.”

Sandy sighed and wiped his eyes. “So lovely,” he sniffed.

“But she said yes. She said yes with this little laugh she has that sounds like bells. She said yes and we got married down at city hall and she moved in the next day. A week later, she moved out.”

“He was a bit of a slob,” Mom said. “And a jerk. He wanted things done his way and on his timeline. And, of course, that didn’t work for me. At all. I was used to living my own life, and suddenly I was thrust in with this man that I really didn’t know. So one day while he was in class, I packed up and moved back home.

“How long did that last?” I asked, unsure why I’d never heard this part of their lives before.

“Six months,” Dad said. “I was devastated when I came home, but I understood. Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. I went over to Nana’s house and begged her to come back but she said no. I asked her if she wanted an annulment, and she said no to that too. I asked her what she wanted. She told me she wanted to date.”

“We’d already gotten the falling in love part out of the way,” Mom explained. “That was the hard part, and we got it done before most people would. What was left was just learning about each other to make sure the love we had was something that would last. Sometimes it’s enough to love someone just the way they are. Other times, you have to work at it so that it doesn’t fade away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked quietly. “Why now?”

“Because you love him,” Dad said. “Even with all the little voices inside your head saying it’s too soon, that it’s not enough, that he’s so much better than you are, you love him. And he loves you. And you know it as well as I do. Someone who tells you that they’re going to fall in love with you, or that they’re partway there, is already there.”

“But you’re not letting yourself believe it,” Mom said, admonishing me slightly. “You’re so used to what you had before that this is scaring you. And it’d be easier to walk away. It would be easier to pretend this never happened. But the things we want in life will never be easy, and if you want it, if you really do, then you need to fight for it with everything you’ve got. It’s only yours to lose, Paul. Only you can make it go away.”

“It’s like all of you are after-school-specialing on me,” I groaned. “I feel so cheap and used and covered in grossness, like some twink after a bareback gang bang.”

“And how would you know what that feels like?” Dad asked. “Is there something we should know?”

“Not at all,” I said quickly. “Just an expression gay guys use.”

They looked to Sandy, who shrugged. “I understood what he meant.”

I like you, I mouthed to him because I wasn’t quite back to love yet. He rolled his eyes.

“So what now?” Nana asked. “I feel like this intervention was modestly successful. I don’t think Paul will be doing meth again anytime soon.”

“I wasn’t on meth!”

“Well, if this were a romantic comedy, this would be the part where Paul would go out searching for the love of his life,” Sandy said. “There’d be really cheesy music playing in the background while he went over to his boyfriend’s apartment to apologize for being an idiot and to hug him and kiss him and then get down to bidness.”

“Oh my,” Mom said. “I think we’ve been watching the wrong movies.”

“By ‘bidness’, do you mean Paul would be a pony again?” Dad asked. “I must admit, I’m fascinated by that idea now.” He glanced back over to my mom. “We should get a riding crop.”

“Deal,” Mom said.

“I’m not a fucking pony!”

“Language,” Dad scolded.

“I should just call him first,” I said.

“No!” everyone said back.

“It’s not spontaneous enough,” Sandy said with a sigh.

“It has to be face to face,” Mom said, a wistful look in her eye.

“He has to see that you mean it,” Dad said, patting my arm.

“You should probably dress sexy,” Nana said.

“I’m not going over to his house if I don’t even know if he’s there. I don’t want to have to stand outside his apartment and have one of his neighbors call the police three hours later because I look creepy and bored. And lonely.”