Page 85 of Noah

"Why do you assume I did something wrong?"

My mother sighed and tipped her head. "What did you do, Noah?"

I felt like screaming. I didn't want to hash this out with a woman who I was doubtful had ever felt love for anyone other than herself. I decided to spit it out at her anyway.

"I told him I love him."

She didn't speak and her eyes softened. "I'm so sorry, Noah."

You could have blown me over with the slight draft required to extinguish a match. My mother had never looked at me like this before. Like she was sad for me.

"He didn't feel the same?" she asked.

I shook my head. "He's ghosted me."

"You've never been in love before, have you?"

Again, I shook my head.

"Love can hurt," my father said. "Your mother was slow to love me back."

"No, dear … I was slow to show it. I still struggle." I caught a brief something in her eyes I had never seen before. "So do you, Frederick."

My father nodded. "What your mother is hinting at is that we love you and want the best for you and your siblings. Sometimes we have trouble showing that."

"It hurts us to know your love for that young man wasn't returned," my mother added.

I swallowed. It felt uncomfortable for my parents to be speaking to me this way. They hadn't even hugged us as kids. I wasn't sure where this change in attitude was coming from.

I needed to change the subject.

"Why are you here?"

My father pulled his coat to the side and reached into a pocket inside his suit jacket. He withdrew his wallet and opened it. "Your mother mentioned … but, I read in the news that some computers were stolen from that centre you like so much. The gay one."

"It's an LGBTQ youth centre."

"Quite." My father pulled out what looked like a cheque. I went from sitting in my living room straight into the twilight zone. What on earth is happening?

"We want to buy two computers for them," my mother stated. My father rose to his feet and handed me the cheque. My emotions were already on the brink of breaking free, but this unexpected kindness from my parents of all people pushed me over the edge.

I could barely see the cheque through the tears collecting in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks. My father's blurred writing appeared to read $5000.

I looked up at him and then my mother. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this is going to help us. Those kids need those computers for their homework and the tutoring we provide."

"They really have nothing?" my mother asked.

"Many of them are homeless, Mother. Their families threw them out when they came out as gay or bisexual … or transgender. Or any number of other queer identities."

My mother frowned. "That is the most despicable thing I've ever heard. When you told us you were gay, we had to take a moment. We were concerned you were going to make life hard for yourself. We never would have even entertained the idea of abandoning you. And believe me, some of our acquaintances suggested we do exactly that."

"They're no longer in our circle," my father added.

"Anyway." My mother clapped her hands together. "Enough of these heavy topics." She walked forward and petted my hair. "Know we're here for you if you need us."

I wiped the dampness from my face and nodded.

"Thank you."

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