Forever for a Year(70)

“Oh my gosh, who drew this?”

“I did.”

“YOU DID?”

“Yes.”

“Trevor, this is amazing. You’re, like, an artist. Why didn’t I know you could draw like an artist?”

“I’ve never shown anyone. Lily, I have. But not even my parents.”

“You are so talented,” and tears, happy tears, formed in my eyes as I turned to the next page and the next page and the next. It was each of our most important days captured with one description and one beautiful drawing. My boyfriend was an artist. He was handsome and a great athlete and an artist. I found the perfect boy. I did. I really did.

By the time I had read through the entire notebook, my face was filled with tears and a big, silly smile. I had forgotten about the other box. Not really. But sort of. So I opened it …

And it wasn’t a diamond ring. I guess we weren’t getting married. But that was just me being crazy. I wouldn’t have said yes anyway. Yes, I would have. But then I would have said we should keep it secret until we were eighteen. Anyway. It was a necklace. A gold necklace with a gold heart. It was really beautiful. But not as beautiful as the book he made. Nothing would ever be as beautiful as that.

*

My brother, Heath, didn’t get home from college until late Christmas Eve. He was supposed to come home last Saturday, but then he said he was staying with his girlfriend in Denver. My mom’s feelings were hurt, but Heath didn’t know that because my mom never talked about her feelings.

When he walked through the door with my dad, who had picked him up at the airport, Heath looked very different. Like a stranger. Like, when did he start dressing so nicely? I didn’t even think we were related anymore. We had texted and Facebooked a little bit since August, but it was always him asking the same thing: “How’s Mom?” and I would tell him Mom and Dad were in love again and tell him a long story about Trevor except he would just write back, “That’s great, C,” and not say anything about his life or ask anything else about mine. I guess Heath and I never talked that much about serious things. He always looked out for me, but the five years’ difference between us made it hard to share much more than parents, I guess.

After we opened presents Christmas morning, we had brunch. Well, we called it brunch even though it wasn’t even nine a.m. yet. We had to eat early because my mom had to work a shift at noon. She always seemed to work on Christmas so I was used to it.

Heath asked me more questions about Trevor while we ate the egg soufflé that my mom had made, which I liked. I told him we were soul mates. He laughed, but it was a supportive laugh.

My dad eventually said, “You haven’t told us much about your girlfriend, Heath.”

Heath looked at my dad like they shared a secret. I didn’t like that they knew something I didn’t. Maybe I was wrong. But then Heath reached over and grabbed my mom’s hand and said, “My girlfriend is a boyfriend, and his name is Michael.”

For, like, a second, I didn’t know what to think. I mean, my brother was … gay? That’s what he was telling us? Right? But he had girlfriends in high school. Well, one. And, yeah … they weren’t like Trevor and I. Not at all. Oh. My. Gosh. I jumped up, got in my brother’s lap, and hugged him. We never hugged much, but I thought he needed it. He probably didn’t. My brother has always been the strongest person I know. Maybe I wanted to give him a hug anyway. While I was in his lap, I noticed my mom was crying.

My dad said, “This is a great day, Ellie. Our son is who he is meant to be. I’m so proud of him.”

“Heath, do you know how difficult it is to be gay? Do you know how many people will judge you? Can you think about this before you make up your mind? I don’t want your life to be so much more difficult than it has to be.”

“Goddamn it, Ellie,” my dad said.

“It’s okay, Dad,” Heath said. But I was really, really mad at my mom. I mean, I never thought she would be prejudiced. She never was. She always voted for gay rights and told me everyone is equal and everything. But I guess she thought it was okay for everyone but her son.

I started crying. Gosh, I cried so much. I screamed out, “Mom, he’s your son!”

“Carrie, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Heath said. So calm. He was always so calm and wise. He guided me off his lap, back to my chair, and then took both my mom’s hands in his. “Mom…”

“Oh, honey, I love you so much,” she said, crying more than me. So much that I stopped.

“I know,” he said.

“I just want you to not get hurt by people.”

“I know.”

“Or made fun of or anything bad. Is there any way you can like girls?”

“No,” Heath said, and laughed.

“But—”

“Mom, I’ll be okay.”

“He’ll be better than okay,” my dad said.

“Dad, not now,” Heath said.

“She needs to know her son is perfect the way he is.”

“She knows.” Heath kept holding on to my mom’s hands.

“She needs to know—” my dad started.

But Heath interrupted and shot his words back, “She needs not to get a lecture from you right now.”

Gosh was Heath amazing. But I couldn’t believe he was gay. And then, I guess, I believed it.