Crossing Borders (21 page)

While jogging along the peaceful paths with his brothers, Tristan divested his mind of everything but what he wanted to tell his family and how he was going to do it. There was no doubt in his mind; he couldn't live a lie. That he wasn't scared down to his nuts to tell his mom he was gay reflected, he thought, her loving acceptance of him for most of his life, even when he probably didn't deserve it at all. Tristan was afraid it would shock and sadden her, but for the most part, he didn't think it would change their relationship. Strain it for a while, maybe, but fundamentally, his family was solid, and they would all stand behind him.

Hoping he wasn't naive and stupid, Tristan jogged on. He thought telling his brothers might be as hard as any part of the whole ordeal. They were just old enough to really understand what being gay meant, and it would probably gross them out completely. Lily would think it romantic, but be angry that he didn't have a vampire lover or something cool like that. He ran along with them, stopping to greet every dog along the way, and hid his laughter when Devon complained about it holding them up. Randy, to teach him a lesson, simply stopped to chat with each dog until Devon was tapping his foot in agitation, and both Randy and the dogs were laughing at him.

To prevent bloodshed, Tristan argued for crossing the park and going directly to the car instead of taking the roundabout way. He was tired, both physically and emotionally, and a little sore, his muscles reacting to both his exuberant new love life and the long motorcycle ride. The three of them got to the car sweating and happy, ready to crank up the radio and drive through Jack-In-The-Box for shakes. Tristan bought one for each of his brothers and picked up an Oreo shake for Lily. He wanted a latte, so he decided to wait till he was out with his mom.

They pulled into the driveway around eight o'clock, the boys jumping right out and racing to the house with their shakes. Tristan took Lily's to her.

“Here, Lily, I brought you a shake. You and the boys can stay here. Mom and I are going out for coffee, okay?”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “You and Mom are going out?” She had an incredulous look on her face. “Since when do you take Mom out for coffee on a Saturday night? Isn't this, like, the night you get laid or something?”

“Very funny.”

“Really, what have you done that you need to talk to Mom about it in a public place?” Her eyes were wide. He knew her imagination was in overdrive.

“Well, if you promise not to tell her,” he said, looking around as though he were going to confide.

“Shit, I knew it was big… What's up?”

“I have to ask her if I can dig a big hole in the garage floor, under where the car goes, you know?”

“No way. Really?”

“Yeah, I have to have a place for my vampire lover's coffin and the earth to surround it, you know?” he said. “So the sunlight can't get in.”

“Oh, you're an asshole.” She grabbed her shake and tore the paper off the straw.

Their mother came into the room. “Such language,” she said. “I wish you'd think about how it makes you sound.”

“Sorry.” Lily slunk behind their mother to stick her tongue out.

“We'll be back soon, honey. Keep the boys from burning the house down, okay?” Lily acknowledged that she'd try.

Tristan opened the car door for his mom and closed it after she got in. When he got into the driver's seat, she watched him in that careful way she had, studying him in order to brace herself. “You realize you're scaring me right now,” she said, giving him the opportunity to put her at ease. He knew he should do it, but found he had nothing flip to say.

“I know,” said Tristan. “I just thought it would be good if we talked, and I…didn't want the boys or Lily to interrupt.” He pulled out of the driveway and headed the short distance to the strip mall. It seemed strange to use his dad's car, especially to take his mom places in the passenger seat. He felt…so inadequate to step into the shoes his father had left behind.

“Is this about school? Are you in trouble?” she asked finally.

“No, Mom, I'm really not in trouble, I promise.” He looked at her again out of the corner of his eye. She was forty-two, still young, still attractive, and still mourning the death of her husband two years before. Tristan's father had been talking to her on the phone, just connecting, asking her about dinner plans, when an aneurism in his brain had ended his life. She was young enough to date again, marry again, and conceivably to have more children. She had a friend who'd had a child at forty-four. Whether she wanted to or not, she had never allowed her children to even imagine she entertained such thoughts, and for that, Tristan was shamefully grateful. He knew he should be urging her to consider getting out again, but the comfort of the familiar had enticed him into maintaining the status quo. And now what he was going to tell her would change everything.

At Starbuck's they got in line and ordered lattes from the cashier, waiting patiently for the barista to prepare them. When at last they sat down, Tristan found he wasn't at all as brave as he thought.

“Okay, Tris, I'm here and I've waited. I've gone through everything in my mind from unplanned pregnancy to eco-terrorist. Please tell me what's up before I tear all my hair out,” she begged. “Please, Tristan… Spill it.”

Tristan's fingers picked at the little cardboard circle around his cup that served to keep his fingers from getting burned. “I'm in love,” he said finally, knowing that was just an appetizer at the honesty buffet. His mom blew out a breath.

“That's it?” she asked. “Wow, I thought… Oh, man, I thought it was going to be something awful.” She laughed nervously. “Love. That's good, right?”

“Well,” he began. “Yes. I think so…yes.”

“You don't sound so sure. Is it unrequited?” she asked. “Such an old-fashioned term. Is it mutual, do you think?”

“Um, yeah, maybe… It hasn't really gone that far. We've only been out twice. It's been really sudden. For me, anyway.”

“Ah,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “That's hard, isn't it? This is the first time for you… Despite your rather strenuous efforts in the area of…romance.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his coffee cup.

She watched him some more. “Why aren't we at home having this conversation?”

“Well…that's really not all there is to it. It's complicated.” He felt it was to his credit that he met her eyes squarely. “It's different than what you might think.”

He could see her trying to imagine the possibilities. “You know, if she's a different race or religion or something, those things don't matter as much as they used to. If two people love and respect each other, most things can be considered details.” She touched his hand with hers. “Is it one of the girls from school?”

“It isn't a girl,” he said.

His mother stared at him. “Is it a woman?” she asked, turning her coffee around in her hands, nervously now, as if her heart was telling her brain not to listen.

“No,” he said, waiting.

“Oh. I'm going out on a limb here and assuming it's a human?” she asked, searching for a joke.

“Yes. It's a man.”

She deflated. Sort of just slumped over her coffee with her lips pursed, thinking hard. “You're not punking me?”

“I wish I were.” He still watched her struggle with the dawning realization, his eyes glittering now with unshed tears. “It's a guy. I'm in love with a guy.”

“Okaaaaay,” she said slowly, and he could tell she was slipping into crisis mode, like when Randy had fallen and broken his arm, and she had marshaled all their resources to have him at the emergency room in twenty minutes flat. “You know, sometimes, it can feel like love when it's just kind of situational.”

“I'm in love with a guy,” said Tristan implacably. “I promise you, I wouldn't bring this to you if I didn't think it was a done deal.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “
Oh
.” Her blue eyes, so very much like his, were watering a little. She exhaled in a long, slow sigh. “How come I've gone to sleep every night for five years with a prayer on my lips that you wouldn't impregnate half the girls in the neighborhood by morning?” She leaned in to hiss for emphasis. “You've been a pretty determined hetero until now!”

“I know,” he said. “I know that I've swung like a gate, and it may seem strange. I've always liked girls. I mean, I don't dislike them, and they're pretty determined as well. What's not to like? It's just that ever since I was a kid, it was like… See Dick… See Dick run… See Tristan push Jane and run after Dick.” He sighed. “I hardly admitted it to myself, but it didn't go away. It's not going to.”

“Well, shit,” said his mother, taking another drink of her coffee. “How do you know, I mean, how does anyone know they're gay? Lots of people have relationships with people of the same sex, and not everyone who does that is gay. Some say it was a mistake, or an adventure. How do you know?”

Tristan thought about that for a long time. “Mom, remember when we were watching that U2
Rattle and Hum
DVD, and you and Dad kept saying that you'd seen the concert, and the DVD couldn't compare to watching the band live?”

“Yeah,” she said carefully.

“Well, that's what it's like. It's like the difference between watching the symphony on a small-screen television versus watching it live at the Hollywood Bowl. I can't explain it any better than that. I've never been in love before. I don't know if it's even mutual, but if it is… Oh, damn, Mom, it's really,
really
right.”

“And it's not just about sex?” she asked. “Do you know the difference?”

He shrugged and looked away. “I think so; who the hell really knows? There's an over fifty percent divorce rate in this country. He's a kind person, a good man. His mom's a trip. He's…special. If Lily brought him home, you'd be on your knees thanking God.”

“If he's everything you say and he loves you and you love him? I'll be on my knees thanking God anyway. Don't think that I'd ask you to throw that away just because it doesn't fit my preconceived notion of what is right for you. It's just hard, you know?” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “It changes all the plans I had for you.”

“I gotta tell you, it's not that easy for me, either,” said Tristan, laughing a little.

“Then why do it, why put yourself through that? You've been perfectly happy to nail every girl who gave you the opportunity for five years.” His eyes widened at her frank talk. “Like I didn't know, Tris. Why can't you find a girl who's special?”