Out of Character (True Colors 2)

“It’s just a car,” I countered. And it was. I’d been sad, saying goodbye to it the day before. I’d gotten choked up and had to look away as the new owner drove it away. He was a friend of Professor Tuttle who’d only tried to shave a little off the asking price and who’d looked at the car like Jasper did double chocolate doughnuts. Nice guy. And a weight had rolled off me as he left, even through my tears. I’d been free. It wasn’t simply the money, but rather everything that car represented. And in the end, it was a car. Only a car. Like how Dad had been a man. Not a giant. Not a guardian angel. Just a flawed, human man, and it had been time to say goodbye to him and the car both.

“Why couldn’t you tell me? About the cards and now this. You say you want to stop messing up, but you’re not stopping to think, and that’s a problem.”

“I’m gay.” The words had been there the whole conversation and now they flew out, another level of freedom reached. Not holding them in any longer had me weirdly giddy.

“What?” He sputtered around a mouthful of beer. “No, you’re not.”

“I am. I’ve got a boyfriend now, and like I said earlier, I’m good. Better than I’ve ever been.”

“And this is why you couldn’t talk to me?” The hurt and pain in his voice were palpable. I wanted to reach for him, but I couldn’t bear it if he yanked his arm away.

“Part of it,” I admitted, drumming my fingers on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck. This… It’s a lot.” He scrubbed at his short hair. “You sure you’re not shitting me?”

“No. It’s Jasper. My boyfriend. You remember him from when we were kids?”

“Of course. You guys lived in each other’s pockets…oh.” His eyes went wide, and I swore twenty-two years of history passed between us. He kept staring at me as if he’d never seen me before. And maybe he hadn’t.

“He helped me get the cards back. He’s pretty incredible. And I want you to meet him.”

“I…” Bruno pushed away from the table, taking his beer with him. “I need to think. This is…”

“A lot.” I echoed his words from earlier. We weren’t that different, he and I. Running from hard conversations. Thinking we needed to be alone to make sense of things. I understood him, but his dismissing me still stung, made me feel raw and exposed.

“It is. The cards. The car. The boyfriend. The boyfriend. Hell. I’m gonna go lie down.”

“Okay.” My voice was small. “Do you want me not to come tomorrow?”

“Just let me think.” With that, he left the kitchen, heading for the spare room. I put my head in my hands as I heard the door shut. I had no idea how long I sat there before a gentle hand landed on my shoulder.

“You’ll come tomorrow.” Ruffling my hair, Mom plopped into Bruno’s empty chair, regarding me with sad eyes.

“He doesn’t want me here. I don’t want to make it worse. I already ruined his homecoming.” I dropped my head onto the cool wood of the table.

“You didn’t. At least you didn’t hit him with all this while he was deployed. Thank you for that.” Voice as weary as it had been in the days after my accident, she rubbed my back.

I turned my head so I could look at her. “More like I was too chicken to do it sooner, but yeah, I didn’t want to distract him in the field.”

“He’ll come around. You heard him. He needs to think. Process.”

“He might get madder.” I slumped down farther at that thought. Him surprised and confused was one thing. Him actively angry… I wasn’t sure I was strong enough for that.

“He might. But you’re still coming tomorrow. With your friend.” Her voice didn’t leave room for argument so I nodded.

“But what about you? You upset too?”

Might as well get it all out there if so. See where my cards lay and all that.

“I had my time to process. Thanks for that.” Her smile was distinctly strained.

“Sorry.” I sat up enough to give her an awkward pat. “There were maybe lots better ways for you to find out.”

“Oh, Milo. I’ve probably always known.” She touched the back of my hand. “And I did a crap job protecting you from your dad. I can’t make excuses for the past, for not standing up to him more.”

“You loved him.”

“I did. But I didn’t see how…problematic he was until it was much too late. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“We all made mistakes.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were on something far away. I joined her in staring at the clock above the sink. Pretty, with a little poem and twin angels decorating the face, it had been in our old house too. Still had a crack from the time Dad slammed a door too hard and it fell. Finally, Mom looked away and straightened her shoulders. “But I’m not making new ones. You’ll come tomorrow. We’ll get through this. As a family.”