time for us. Family was everything for them.
“Dad…” I guess the best way to tell someone
something that you’re scared as all heck about is just to come
out and say it. Rip off the bandage. I guess I’m ripping,
because here it goes. “Dad, I have a girlfriend.”
Dad puffs on his pipe. “Oh,” he says. “Oh.”
“I don’t mean a girlfriend like a friend. I mean a
girlfriend. As in, as in, I’m a lesbian. I like women. I’m
attracted to women.”
“Oh.” More pipe smoke wafts across the deck.
I ate dinner to pacify Mom, but now it’s not sitting so
well. I’m worried that this isn’t actually sinking in. “I dated
men because that’s what I thought everyone wanted. That’s
how to be normal. I tried to make myself believe that I could
do it. That it was even what I wanted, but it wasn’t. I always
knew.”
Dad draws deeply on his pipe and sets it aside, near his
knee. He balances it with two fingers in his left hand.
“That’s…that’s okay, Stephanie. You’ll always be my little
girl. I love you no matter what you choose.”
Dad is old school. I can probably count the number of
times he’s told me that he loves me on one hand. I always
knew it. I always knew it because he always made us feel
loved. He did things for us so that we knew. We never doubted
it, but it’s a rare thing for him to say those words. A huge
thing.
“So it’s okay that I have a girlfriend? Well, I don’t
know that I do anymore.”
Dad frowns. “What happened?”
“We had a fight.”