Riding With Brighton(61)
I feel my head snap back and my face pucker with confusion. “What does that mean?”
He lets out a breath and shakes his head. “Your mom doesn’t want me talking to you about this, but I don’t like holding on to secrets. I told her you deserved to know, at the very least so you can understand her unreasonable reaction to this whole thing.”
“Jesus, Dad, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Grandpa Len is gay.” He lets out a long breath. “There, I said it.”
“What?” I ask, completely confused. “Grandpa Len is not gay. He’s married to Grandma. They’re like, really happy.”
“I know. That’s what you’re supposed to believe. That’s what everyone is supposed to believe. But think about it, son. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, but seriously, think about it.”
I think about it for a minute. Mom’s parents live in Massachusetts. Grandma comes and stays for a few weeks every summer, but Grandpa doesn’t do airplanes, so we only see him once a year when we go to visit. And yet he’s always been my favorite grandparent. He’s funny, as in bat-shit-crazy funny. He could totally make it onto my list of interesting people—just his bright pants and floral shirts would qualify him. Or that creepy, perfectly manicured mustache he’s had his whole life. When I picture him, he’s in his kitchen dancing while cooking, which is entertaining from a distance but everyone knows to steer clear of him because if you get too close he’ll grab your hand, twirl you into his arms, and make you dance to the fifties’ love ballads he’s always playing. I feel bad for his little dog Sue because she’s usually stuck being his dance partner; he generally treats her like a human child… dresses her up and everything. And, Jesus, get him together with his best friend Manny and the wheels come off completely. Those two are like a couple of giddy girls when they’re together, which they always are; the guy practically lives with Grandma and Grandpa and… holy shit. Grandpa Len is totally gay, and I’m pretty damn sure Manny is his partner. “Oh my God. How the hell didn’t I see that?”
“You got me,” my dad says with a laugh. “He’s the most flamboyant man I’ve ever met. Of course he gets more comfortable being himself every year. From what Mom tells me, he used to be pretty conservative. And grumpy. And miserable.”
“Grandpa Len?”
“I know. Hard to believe.”
“So… what the hell? Why is he still living with Grandma?”
He shrugs. “They wanted to stay together for the kids and, I mean, they’re really happy together. You’ve seen them—they’re best friends. It seems to work just fine for them. But when your mom was your age, she caught Grandpa Len and his friend Manny—you remember him?”
“Of course I remember him. And please, don’t elaborate. I get it.”
“Well, imagine how your mom felt. I mean, how would you feel if you caught me cheating on your mom with a man?”
I wince at that.
“Exactly. Of course he wasn’t really cheating. Grandma and Grandpa already had an understanding, and Grandma was well aware that Grandpa was in love with Manny, but in your mom’s eyes, that just made it a hundred times worse.
“She left home the next week, and it wasn’t until you were born that she finally started talking to them again. She needed her mom, but Grandma wasn’t going to let her keep Grandpa out of the picture. So Mom does the best she can. But she’s never forgiven either of them. Not really.
“In her eyes her entire life was a lie and in a big way, that was true. But she doesn’t see the other side of it. She doesn’t understand that having to hide your sexuality, who you are, is what forces you to have to live a lie. She doesn’t want you to be like her dad, and of course you’re not. What hurt her most was the lie, but you are being honest with her. You’re not hiding who you are. She should be happy for you, but she’s not. Not yet at least.”
“God, I get it. I mean, I totally get why she would hate me right now….”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“You know what I mean. It’s one thing to hate gays because the Bible tells you to, or the whole thing disgusts you or whatever. But it literally ruined her life.”
“Actually, it did more than that. Sometimes I think it defined her entire life. Sometimes I think it’s still defining her life. I love your mom, but it’s been draining trying to make her happy all these years. That’s what I was thinking about this morning. She came to Minnesota because she thought it would be wholesome here, that gay men wouldn’t live in a state like Minnesota. She quickly found out she was wrong, but she stayed because she had nowhere to go. Before we got married, she raked through my family history to make sure I didn’t have any long-lost gay relatives.”
“Did you?”
He shrugs. “She didn’t find any, but I’m sure I did. Every family does. People didn’t talk about it, though. They didn’t live as openly gay men or women. It’s pretty sad when you think about it.”
“So if she had found something, she wouldn’t have married you?”
He shrugs again. “I would like to think she loved me enough that something like that wouldn’t really matter, but obviously it did. She seemed to forget about it for a while. And then she got pregnant. That’s when she started driving into the country every day. She found our land and fell in love—with it and of course with the picturesque town of Spring Valley. I didn’t want to leave the city. I had friends and a good job and I liked our neighborhood, but it was like she was possessed. It took over her life. She didn’t even want you to know that gay people existed. I couldn’t handle it anymore so I caved.”