Page 35 of Betting Brett

“No, no, I can’t be such a bother.”

Andy, ever the peacemaker, is the first to offer a solution. “Jim, you can stay at my place,” he says. I feel a rush of gratitude for Andy and his simple two-fold declaration. Not only does he believe and want to help my father, but he will stay right here with me as we make our way through this mess. I’m glad I don’t have to talk him into staying. I don’t want him to go.

Dad’s eyes are still sad and tired but also grateful. “I appreciate that, Andy, thank you, son,” he says.Son. He really has accepted Andy.

The atmosphere in the living room is beginning to relax. There’s hope now. And there’s a chance that our family will come out of this stronger than ever. It’s the chance that my family can be torn apart that scares the shit out of me.

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” I say, shaking my head. “But it’ll be ok. It will.”

I stand as my father yawns, the day clearly catching up to him. Andy digs in his pocket for his house keys and hands them to my dad. My dad gives another heartfelt thank you and wraps both him and Jen up into a tight hug. I go to hug him as well, but he stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Mind if we talk outside for a second?”

“Sure,” I say and follow my dad out. The cool night air wraps around me as we stand on the porch. The stars, usually a source of comfort, seem distant tonight. Farther than they ever have before. I usually love sitting out here with a book in my lap and the sound of cicadas filtering through the air while I look up at the stars, realizing just how small we and our problems are compared to the rest of the universe. But tonight, their twinkling light is obscured by the heavy clouds of hurt that hang over us.

The porch light casts shadows that dance across the smooth wooden planks, highlighting the flower boxes I had hanging off the railing. “Dad,” I say, the anger and confusion that’s been churning inside me since those papers were served finding my voice in the quiet of the night.

My father’s eyes, their lines deepened by the emotional turmoil of today, meet mine. I remember older days, simpler times. I remember my dad teaching me how to drive stick, how to throw a football, how to run a play and sack the quarterback. He taught me how to stick up for myself, always instilling in me a strong sense of pride but an even stronger sense of compassion. That’s why I’d been so shocked when that notice came to my door. From my mother, sadly, it was something I could see happening. But from my dad? That was a fucking blindside.

Thank God it wasn’t true.

“Brett, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am,” he says, his words heavy. Like stones being thrown into a dark lake, waves rippling outward. “I know I haven’t always been as aware as I should be. I’m sure I said some messed up stuff in the past around you without even realizing it. I don’t want you to think I’m… like your mother.”

I look away, the stars above seeming a little brighter. A little more comforting. I take in a deep breath of the fresh night air. “I don’t, Dad. I know you’re a good man. I know you love us, and you love Izzy.”

“I do, Brett. I’m just sorry I didn’t get it at first. You know, I’ve been doing some research, trying to understand, to learn. Watching videos.”

“You have?” I turn back to him, surprise and curiosity on my face, then I crack a smile. “Oh no, please tell me they’re PG-rated videos.”

He starts to laugh, making me laugh. It’s a nice change from the way he arrived. “PG-13 at worst. I’ve been watching a lot of videos on YouTube and reading articles.” The laughter dies down, and my dad continues to speak. “Just trying to understand LGBTQ+ issues, trying to see the world through your eyes, through Andy’s eyes. I want to be sure I can fully empathize, and I want to make sure I don’t say anything stupid.”

“And what have you learned, Dad?”

He holds my gaze, smiling with pride shining through. It lifts a weight I hadn’t even realized had been sitting on my chest. “I’ve learned that love is love, Brett. And I see the love between you and Andy. It’s as real and as beautiful as any love I’ve ever known. The world is still hard, and there are some difficult people out there. And in our family.” He grimaces, “But the good far outweighs the bad, and I think that the gay community really embodies that. Resilience and pride and love.”

I can’t help but smile from ear to ear. “That’s exactly it, Dad.” I open my arms and take him into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And we’ll get through this. Together. I’ll do everything to help you that I possibly can.”

21

Andy

Thefrontdoorclicksshut softly as Brett steps back into the living room. Jen and I both whip around on the couch. He doesn’t seem upset, which is a good sign. In fact, he seems like the opposite of upset. He’s smiling. The light casts long shadows across his face, but even in the shadows, I can still see the shine of his bright teeth. Jen, her eyes heavy, offers Brett a silent, supportive nod.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, everything’s as okay as it can be.”

“Alright, I think I’m going to head to bed, then. I want to be ready for tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” Brett tells her, giving her a hug goodnight, both of them reassuring each other that things were going to work out. Jen comes over to hug me before waving over her shoulder and disappearing down the hall, followed by the door to the guest bedroom clicking shut.

“He’s really trying, Andy,” Brett says as he comes to sit down on the couch next to me. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, the jeans cuffed so that his boots show, slightly caked with mud. He rested his head on his fists, leaning his elbows on his thighs. The muscles of his biceps push at the white fabric, his silver watch glistening. “Dad’s eyes...I haven’t seen that kind of pain in them for a long time. He told me he’s been doing research, trying to make sure he’s an ally. It was really touching, actually. I can tell he means what he says. That he wasn’t involved.”

I shift in my seat, the leather of the couch sticking to my skin.

“That’s a great sign, right?” I offer, trying to find the silver lining. We could use a win, no matter how small.

Brett runs a hand through his hair, the strands a tousled mess after this evening. “Yeah, it is,” he admits. “I just...I need to see action, you know? Words are words, but Izzy, you, me, Jen - we need more than that.”

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