The Lies That Bind(70)

    “Well, I love the idea of a winter wedding in the city,” Jenna says. “And I have to say—long engagements are the worst. That’s the most Jeff and I ever fought.”

“Yes. Because you’re a control freak,” Paul says. “Cecily isn’t like you.”

“Yes, but Matthew is,” Jenna says, laughing—which I have to say, is a little bit true, especially when it comes to logistics.

“Scottie, you’re so quiet. What do you think about all of this?” my mom asks, desperately trying to recruit someone to her side.

Scottie hesitates, then glances at me for the first time, though his foot has been on mine with various degrees of pressure throughout the conversation. “I want whatever Cecily wants.”

“Aww,” Jenna says. “That’s so sweet.”

“Well, I am pretty sweet,” Scottie says to her. “And just so you know, Ms. Matron of Honor, Cecily said I could plan her bachelorette party.”

“Oh shit! Look out!” my brother yells, laughing.

“Wait. Aren’t those for the ladies?” my father says.

“Dad,” I say under my breath.

“What?” he says. “Aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Scottie says, taking my hand under the table. “The ladies and, you know, the bride’s gay best friend.”

Everyone freezes. I glance at my mother, who looks predictably uncomfortable, shifting her gaze to my dad, who looks even more uncomfortable. Meanwhile, I squeeze Scottie’s hand, his palm sweaty, while my brother starts a slow clap that makes my heart swell.

“Bravo, my man,” Paul says, reaching over to punch Scottie on the shoulder, seeming to grasp how difficult this moment was for him.

Scottie sits up a little straighter, still gripping my hand, as he looks at my brother and mumbles, “Thanks, Paulie.”

“Of course,” my brother says, now raising his pint glass. “Everyone, come on now.”

    We all raise our glasses, as my brother says, “To coming out.”

“To coming out,” Jenna and I echo while Scottie smiles a shy smile.

“I mean, you all already knew, right?” Scottie says, glancing around the table, his grip on my hand finally loosening.

“You were Richard Simmons for Halloween one year,” Jenna says with a laugh. “So yeah. That was a tip-off.”

Scottie looks straight at my mom and says, “Mrs. G?”

I give her a look, praying that she says the right thing—or at least not the totally wrong thing. “Well. It really wasn’t any of our business….Was it, Bob?”

“No, it’s not our business,” my dad says, now slapping the heel of his hand on the side of the ketchup bottle, intently frowning at his plate.

“But we still love you no matter what,” my mom continues. “Right, Bob?”

“Of course we love him no matter what,” my dad says. The ketchup is now freely flowing onto his fries, but he still doesn’t look up.

“Well, duh, guys,” I say, biting my lip and shaking my head. “Does it really need to be said that you still love him?”

“Did I say something wrong?” my mother asks.

I smile, but tell her the truth, out of loyalty to Scottie. “Well, yeah. Kind of, Mom.”

“No. Nobody said anything wrong,” Scottie interjects, his foot back on mine again. “It’s all good.”

“Yes. It is all good,” Jenna echoes.

“So anyway,” Scottie says. “The point I was trying to make—is that there is more than one way to do things.”

My dad winces, I think taking the point a little too literally, as my mom just looks confused. “More ways to do what?”

“I’m saying—boys can go to bachelorette parties…and Cecily can get married in New York. It doesn’t really matter when and where—it’s all going to be perfect. Because she’s marrying a man who truly loves her.”



* * *



—

    “Thank you for that,” I say to Scottie later, once we’re alone back at my apartment.

“For what?” he says, putting his feet up on my coffee table.

“You know what,” I say. “For having my back. For distracting my mother with bigger news than my wedding details.”

“Oh. You mean my little announcement?”

“It wasn’t little.”

He nods, looking so serious, especially for him.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“I feel good, I guess,” he says, taking a deep breath. “But did you see your dad’s face?”

“Yeah,” I say. “But did you also see that the world didn’t end?”

He nods, and I can tell what he’s thinking.

“It won’t for your dad, either,” I say gently.

“Yeah. Maybe. It’s different, though. I think your dad might be more upset if Paul were gay….Then again, I guess my old man can’t be any more upset than ol’ Karen was when you told her you want to get married in New York.” He laughs, shakes his head, then adds, “You may as well have told her you’re gay.”

“No doubt,” I say. “Although she might actually prefer I marry a woman as long as the ceremony was in Wisconsin….”