Just a Question of Love - part 50

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
Matt confronts Owen's mom

Submitted: January 03, 2009

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Submitted: January 03, 2009

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Sitting in the living room with mom and George while Matt is upstairs changing, is the most awkward situation we’ve been in yet. We sit in silence; George looking at mom, mom looking at me, me looking at the floor. Fortunately, Matt only takes a few minutes before I hear soft footsteps and the customary squeak on the second to last stair. Then he’s there and the tension in my back recedes, the pain in my chest dissipates. And he’s wearing my clothes. Jeans that looked like shit on me, but seem made for him. And a shirt I’ve never seen before: a black polo with an electric blue dragon stretched over one side.

“Where’d you get that?” I ask as he sits down on the couch beside me, farther away than I’d wanted.

“Your closet,” he says, a hint of confusion seeping into his voice.

“So, how was prom? You two have fun?” mom asks, leaning forward on and resting her chin on her hands. I can’t tell whether she really wants to know or whether she’s interrogating us again.

“Um, good,” is all I say. Matt nods, smiling warmly, though I see a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“So there were no… problems?”

“What?” I ask angrily, “Because we’re-” The last word dies on my tongue. Gay. I can’t say it. Why?

Mom’s word echoes my thoughts. “You can’t say it, can you? That you’re gay?” Her angry, hopeful eyes bore into my wide, scared ones.

“Um, with all due respect,” Matt says confidently from beside me, sounding completely opposite than what I feel. “I think there’s something you have to understand. If Owen’s not comfortable saying that he’s gay, then…he’s probably not.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he keeps talking. “I know you’re probably silently celebrating because I said that, but it doesn’t end there. What I want you to understand,” he leans forward, looking at my mom, “is that sometimes… It’s not a question of gay or straight, or even bi. Sometimes… It’s just a question of love. And,” he looks at me, “we love each other.”

I look over at mom, whose visibly shaken, and visibly shaking. George has moved closer, and is rubbing her back soothingly. I don’t know what to say, to either of them.

“Look,” Matt’s soft, comforting voice murmurs, “What I’m trying to say, is… I know you may not approve of what me and Owen have together. And to be honest, I don’t expect you to. But, I’m… going to ask you to work on accepting it for what it is. Because I know what it’s like to feel alone, to feel like you have no one to talk to, and most of all, to miss my parents. And because I don’t want for one second, for Owen to feel like that.”

“I don’t want you to resent your son for being with a guy. I don’t expect you to jump up and down with joy but I… This isn’t easy. For you, for Owen, even for me. But, I’m asking you to just… Try so that maybe we can have a chance to be happy.”

A few moments of stunned silence ensue. Matt looks at my mom with pleading eyes - how can she resist those eyes? - while mom stares at a piece of lint on the carpet. Still trying to process everything Matt just said - so I’m not gay? - when I realize that my hand is enclosed in Matt’s in a strong hold. Seconds tick by unbearably loud on the grandfather clock in the corner.

Slowly, mom stands up from the worn recliner, like the weight of Matt’s words are pushing down on her.

“Get up,” she whispers in Matt’s direction, still staring at the carpet. He stands obediently, shoulders slumped, eyes looking to meet hers. When mom finally lifts her chin, I see tears in her eyes. Oh God. I don't know who I'm more scared for. They face off for a few seconds, my mom and Matt, before her arms move swiftly forward.


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