A Talk with Mother
"So is Paul fresh?"
That took me by surprise. Partly because the slang 'fresh' was very '80s. Partly because my mother had interrupted my conversation.
She was doing her hair in front of the bathroom sink. I was telling her how my friend Paul (of course not his real name) was coming to pick me up for the weekend. I was practically luna because I needed a vacation from being at home all summer.
"Huh?" I asked. I really did not know what she was talking about. I may love '80s music, but that does not mean that I knew everything about the '80s.
"Does he like guys?" she asked me.
Well, I knew she had to get around to asking about my friends. My mother is like my best friend at times. We talk about things from financial problems to soap operas to well...everything. While I have not told her that I was attracted to guys or outed any of my gay friends to her, she tends to have that mother psychic thing going on.
I did what any person who's not out to his parents would do: deny, deny, deny. That only made her want to meet him more though. Then she would ask so many questions that I would be blushing.
Thankfully, Paul came and picked me up before my mother got off work. My brother was intrigued. My father was...distant. He's always distant, but he was more distant than usual. He told me to be careful on the road and nothing more.
The vacation was well worth the anxiety. I have not had much fun this summer in the middle of nowhere. Travelling between Memphis and Jonesboro and catching up on how my friends were doing was just what the doctor ordered.
However, I started to wonder about my parents. If they could not handle one of my friends being gay, how would they react to me coming out? I'm sure they have picked up on subtle (and blunt) clues in the past, they have never said anything to me about it.
Finally, the vacation ended and Paul drove me home. On the way, I remembered that the weekend I left my father was having a family reunion. When I got back to Pine Bluff, I found my parents sitting with my uncle and my aunt in the living room with blank faces. They did not say a thing while I was saying good-bye to Paul. I was waiting for my mother to ask one of her blunt questions. She did not say anything and Paul got to leave in a good mood.
"He was nice."
My mother gave me her verdict after my father, uncle, and aunt had left. I was in her room watching SLIDERS when she gave it. That was that, I thought.
Now every time Paul's name comes up, my mother still ask about whether he's 'fresh' or not. I simply tell her that she should ask him herself.
If meeting Paul has taught her anything, it has been to encourage her to bluntly (and subtly) ask me about whether I'm attracted to guys. My response? I use deadpan humor. When I'm ready to tell her then I will tell her. It has to be on my timetable and not hers. Until then, we still enjoy debating the fine points of soap operas. It's something that we can enjoy together.
Diego
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