Excerpt

“Did Marcus tell you about being in school?”
I shook my head “No.”
“I can’t tell you how many times I had to pick him up.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems like even when he was in pre-school, I was picking him up after he got into fights.”
“fights?” Why didn’t I know about this?
“I don’t mean he fought, but other people picked on him all the time.”
Oh, poor little Marcus.
“I used to be called in, maybe once a month, to take him home after someone beat him up.”
“Oh god.”
“When he was in high school he tried to hide it. I got called in because he was cutting classes. He didn’t tell anyone why, not me or his teachers or the counselors. So they didn’t do anything other than threaten to suspend him if he kept cutting class. Not long after he started going back I was called in again. This time it was because he had been beaten. Badly.”
“On no.”
“I was driving him home and I asked ‘I know you’re not that popular, but why does this happen?’ he looked scared, told me ‘they’ve always done this, but I think they found out something about me. And maybe that’s why…’ I have to admit, I wasn’t sure where he was going, until he said ‘Dad, I’m gay.’”
Mr. Fitzgerald looked at me and continued “I pulled over, he looked so scared—probably thought I was going to scold him or slap him. But I just wanted to let him know I was so proud of him. When I hugged him, he started crying. He said he’s been hiding it for so long.”
I could see where he was going, but I let him finish.
“Things definitely got better for him as time went on and the world changed.. Do you understand my story?”
“Yes.” I nodded fiercely. “I know how much it sucks to be an outsider. To feel like you don’t belong…”
“Fine, you have that in common. But what makes you right for each other?”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to sound full of myself.
“He came out to me. I don’t understand how he’s with you now.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I really like Marcus. Do you think he’d be with me if he didn’t like me too?”
“I don’t know. Are you paying him?”
“No.”
“Blackmailing him?”
“No”
“Threatening him?”
“No”
“Well I just don’t get it. First, my son is gay. Second, you’re all wrong for him. “
I was offended “Excuse me? How am I wrong for him? We have a ton in common, and maybe I’m not as perfect as he is, but isn’t that was being together is about?...Completion?”
“So it’s because you’re better than him? Your intellect completes him?”
“I never said that! Completion isn’t necessarily mutual.”
“Now we’re back to that you’re using him.”
“No! I honestly think in some odd way he wants to be with me. And if he decided-or realized-he wants to be with someone else. Then I’d help him make that happen.”
I didn’t want to cry in front of him “I have to go. To my car. To get something.”
I ran to my car and got the hell out of there.