Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

the courage for all evening. I dialed his number.
    ****
    Six Months Ago
    We were sitting on the couch watching reruns of Firefly when it all went wrong. Everything started when the phone rang. It was in the middle of a gripping scene where two of the main characters were being tortured while trying to plan their escape and I would have let the phone ring, but we were at Andrew's place and he answered before I could beg him not to.
    I paused the TiVo when I heard him say, "Hi, Mom," knowing it would be a long conversation. I always feel a little awkward sitting around when someone else is on the phone, so I went to the kitchen to start cleaning up all our take out boxes from dinner. By the time he hung up, I had wiped the counters, thrown away all the rotten leftovers from the fridge, taken out the garbage, and made coffee.
    My first clue that the evening was going to be worse than a paused television show was Andrew's tone of voice when he called out, "Shawn, I need to ask you something." It wasn't angry. It was more resigned, or possibly disappointed. I tried to keep a smile on my face as I walked back into the living room.
    "What's up?" I asked.
    "My mom invited us to Thanksgiving dinner." That's when I knew what had been in Andrew's voice. He knew I couldn't go. He knew why I couldn't go. But he was still asking.
    See, my Dad is mayor of a small town in backwoods Texas - the kind of town that makes Rick Santorum look liberal- and every year on Thanksgiving, he throws his Annual Fundraiser Gala. Family is Expected to attend. Yes, that is a capital "E" expected. The only thing that could be worse than not attending is not attending because I was with my gay lover's family. Not that they knew I was gay, or ever would.
    I looked at him, sure that my thoughts were clear on my face. "And?"
    "Will you come?"
    "You know I can't. My mom would kill me for missing my Dad's Gala." I said this with as much calm as possible. This was an old fight with us. At some point, one of us would lose our cool and we would start yelling. Nevertheless, nothing in the world could have prepared me for what he asked next.
    "Then, can I go with you?"
    I just stood there, dumbstruck, for a good thirty seconds, and I am sure my horror was apparent in my expression. This was when I expected him to start yelling. But again, I was surprised.
    With almost complete cool, he said, "Is the idea of spending a holiday, any holiday, with me really so repulsive? No, don't answer that. You know we have never spent any holiday together because you can't tell your family about us. And I thought I could deal with that. I thought that over the years you might change your mind. But I was wrong. On both counts. If you ever need anything, I will always be here for you. But I can't do this half relationship thing anymore. Please be gone when I get out of the bathroom."
    He walked towards the bathroom at the end of the hall and shut the door calmly. The little click of the door knob as it slid closed was the only sound in the apartment. I stared after him, momentarily confused, trying to process what had just happened. After an unknown amount of time, I heard the toilet flush and the sink start to run water.
    Those sounds knocked me out of my reverie. I grabbed my wallet and keys from the table by the door and left. It wasn't until I reached the bus stop at the corner that I realized tears were streaming silently down my face.
    ****
    Present Day
    As I sat there, the cold and wet of my soaked clothing seeped into my bones. By the time the phone started ringing, I was already shaking.
    Andrew's voice sounded slightly confused but not hostile when he answered, saying, "Shawn? Are you okay?"
    It was no surprise to hear him ask that. After that day, there had only been a few stilted calls between us (first trying to make up, then trying to return various belongings to their original owner's custody). He knew I wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong.
    I couldn't keep the shaking out of my voice when I said, "Can you come and get me? I can't drive." It was true, I couldn't. Not anymore. I had taken a cab to get here.
    "Um, Sure. Where are you?"
    "Covert Park, over on Mount Bonnell."
    "You're outside?! In this weather?"
    "Yeah, I'll explain when you get here." I was shaking so hard, I could barely keep hold of the phone anymore. It had been a bad treatment today.
    "Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."
    "Thanks. I'm up at the top, off the left trail." I managed to