When Everything Is Blue(73)

“I don’t want to get angry or emotional or blame him for not being part of my life,” I tell Chris. “I’d like to avoid getting into all that drama, you know? In a way, I’d almost be able to forgive the years of noncommunication if he could just be cool about this one thing.”

Chris nods. “That seems pretty generous of you, but here’s the thing. You can’t really control how your dad will react. You can only do your best in any given situation. That’s why my dad says he doesn’t get mad when he doesn’t close a deal. He only gets mad if he feels he didn’t make the best possible case for the client. So, regardless of outcome, if you make a good pitch, you can be happy with the result.”

“I guess so, but this isn’t some faceless client we’re talking about; it’s my dad.”

“But it’s still all about relationships. Do you have some things worked out you want to say to him? Maybe you could try it out on me.”

It seems like this conversation is all I’ve thought about lately, but I’ve mostly been imagining what my dad will say in reaction to the news and not the way in which I might present it.

“Well, Dad, I’m gay. This hot piece of man right here is my boyfriend. I know it might come as a surprise, but I’m hoping you’re okay with it, because our relationship means a lot to me, and I’d like for us to be closer than we have been in recent years.”

“That’s great,” Chris says with a smile. “But you might just want to call me Chris. Hot piece of man, while true, might be too much for him. I think you should lead with that and then let him have a chance to express himself. Give him, like, five minutes to say everything he wants before interrupting. You want him to feel like he’s been heard.”

“You study psychology this summer?”

“I checked out a lot of coming-out websites in the past couple weeks. Now, do you want me to say anything or just stand there quietly?”

Chris has a tendency to jump in and defend me, which wouldn’t go over well with my dad. I also don’t want my dad blaming Chris or thinking he’s the reason I’m gay.

“Just stand there. If he takes it badly, you saying something will probably only make it worse.”

“Okay, then I think we have a plan.”

Chris’s smile is so positive and hopeful that it almost makes me think everything’s going to be all right. I wish I had a tenth of his confidence. Chris tells me more about what we dubbed his “gaycation” with his dad, and even though he’s not trying, it does make me long for something like that with my own dad. “He wants you to come out with me this summer,” Chris says.

“Really?” I wouldn’t want to intrude on their father-son time.

“Yeah, my dad’s got a ton of miles from work, so you don’t have to worry about the flight. We can just hang out and surf, skate, go to Disneyland, whatever you want.”

I smile at that. In middle school I went with Chris and his family to Orlando to do the circuit of theme parks. It was a blast, and something my mom could have never afforded on her own. Chris made me go on all the roller coasters even though I was scared shitless. Like now, his courage is infectious.

“I’m there,” I tell him.

Chris keeps up the conversation while my stomach gurgles and my head spins. When we reach the outskirts of Todesta, I think he realizes I’m not really paying attention, so he puts on music for the rest of the ride. I call my dad.

“Theo?” he asks, sounding huffy in his typically impatient way.

“Hi, Dad.”

“What is it? I’m on the golf course.”

That smarts a little, that he skipped out on my skateboarding competition yesterday, but managed to fit in eighteen holes of golf today.

“When do you think you’ll be done?” I ask.

“I’m finishing up now. Twenty minutes or so.”

I plaster a smile on my face so I’ll sound more positive than I feel. “Great. I have some big news I want to share, so if it’s all right with you, I’ll see you back at your house when you’re finished.”

“Fine. Susan should be home if you get there before I do.”

“All right. See you soon.”

Chris gives me another pep talk in their driveway, telling me again it probably won’t be as bad as I think and citing his own irrational worries as evidence that everything will work out fine.

I knock on the door, and after what seems like a long time, Susan answers. “Theo,” she says, trying to sound cheery, but she looks tired, in addition to being as big as a house, and I can hear my sister Ellie wailing in the background. “You caught us at nap time,” she says, like she’s apologizing.

“Sorry for showing up like this,” I tell her. “I was just hoping to talk to Dad for a few minutes. He said he’d be here soon.”

“Of course, come on in.”

“This is my friend, Chris,” I tell her. By this time, Ellie has caught on that her mother’s distracted and waddles her way out into the foyer. She’s wearing a pink tank top with some old food crusted on the front of it and a diaper. Her eyes are still wet with tears, but she’s no longer crying.

“What’s up, Ellie?” I lean down to mess up her hair, and she glances from me to Chris, then smiles at Chris. Chris gets all the smiles from my family.