Page 5 of Betting Brett

My parents provide childcare when I need it, and I appreciate that they have been such a big part of Isabelle’s life. My mom especially was unhappy with Jen when we divorced, and I had to tell her clearly that she was not under any circumstances allowed to disparage Isabelle’s mother in front of her. Hopefully, I can just be firm again, and there won’t be an issue about Andy.

Also, I can’t help but wonder why he’s never told me. He didn’t date in high school at all, that I remember, but he must have dated in college. Obviously, he’s dated as an adult. And I guess he might not be gay, there are lots of other orientations that could lead to being on a date with another man. I still just don’t get why he never told me. I guess I can ask him tonight.

Sam and I are a half hour or so into our patrol, and I can’t hold it in anymore. “I ran into Andy on my date last night. Date sucked, by the way. Andy was there on a date with a guy! He never told me. I have no idea that he might be gay or bi or whatever. We’re best friends. Why wouldn’t he tell me that?”

Sam’s the one driving today, so I can look over at him while I talk. He doesn’t answer right away, choosing his words carefully, making me nervous about what he intends to say. “Don’t your parents go to the Baptist Church over on Monroe Street?” He finally asks. The church itself has some sort of ridiculously long name no one can remember.

“Yeah, my mom is sort of obsessed. I think my dad just goes along because it’s easy. It occurred to me last night that I’m going to have to make sure my mom knows she’s not allowed to say anything unkind about Andy.”

Sam side-eyes me. “I’ll be surprised and happy for you if it’s that simple,” he says. “The members of that congregation have been a real problem for those of us in the LGBTQ community. Have you paid attention to the school board and city council meetings?”

“I’ve never really felt like I needed to pay attention before,” I admit.

“Well,” Sam says, “that’s not a luxury a lot of us have. It’s going to be a big deal to raise kids in a place where the school system teaches them that our marriage shouldn’t exist.”

“That won’t happen here,” I object.

“It’s law in other places in the country,” Sam reminds me. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to get on my soapbox. I just meant to say that there’s a good chance Andy didn’t say anything to avoid difficulties with your parents. And he might not have been sure about your reaction either.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” I assure Sam, “and no one better treat him badly about it either. I don’t really see how this changes anything for us.”

Sam smiles at me, “I know you’re a good guy, Brett,” he says. “Just because you haven’t really thought about the need to be a strong ally before doesn’t mean you can’t be now.” His smile turns a little sly. “Paul has a single guy friend named Robbie that we like a lot,” he says. “Maybe since Andy’s date went so badly, we can set him and Robbie up.”

The unpleasant feeling that rises in me at that suggestion is not clearly defined but strong nonetheless. I think I manage to keep my tone pretty neutral when I say, “I’m sure Andy can find his own dates.” But the way Sam’s smile gets slyer tells me I might not have completely succeeded.

5

Andy

I’vebeennervousaboutgoing over to Brett’s house all day. He seemed remarkably unfazed to find me on a date with a man last night, but now that he’s had a chance to think about it, I’m worried that he’ll have a more negative reaction. His parents are a big part of his life, and I know that he used to attend their church occasionally.

When I first started considering a move back home, my parents and I had discussed at length the social climate regarding acceptance here in Shafter Falls. They seemed to think that I’d have little day-to-day trouble, but they did mention that the church that Brett’s parents attend had become more and more vocal and hostile toward the LGBTQ community.

I’ve worked myself into a decent level of anxiety by dinner time, but I’m determined to show up and face the music anyway. I recognized today that I had subconsciously done this on purpose. It was so much easier to not mention it to him in any of our conversations than to face the possibility of rejection. If he really just can’t deal with my sexuality, I’ll lose both my best friend and my favorite fantasy all at once.

I pull up to the tidy little home that he and Jen bought when they got married. Yellow siding and white shutters give it a cheerful, classic appearance, very Leave It To Beaver. I notice that the flower boxes in front are all full, and I wonder if Brett does that himself. Somehow, I just can’t see it. Maybe his mom plants them with Isabelle. The thought of Brett’s mother brings my anxiety back in full force, and I decide I need to bite the bullet and get this over with. One way or another, I’ll know as soon as I knock on the door.

I don’t actually get a chance to knock, though, because as soon as I climb out of the car, Isabelle throws the front door open and runs down the steps toward me.

“Hi, Uncle Andy!” She yells.

I catch her in my arms, spinning her around in a tight hug. Her laughter rings in my ears, a sound that instantly lightens my heart. "Hey there, Izzy," I say, setting her down but keeping a hand on her shoulder. "You've grown so much, oh my gosh!"

She beams up at me, her smile a mirror image of Brett's. Before I can say anything more, Brett appears in the doorway, that same warm smile lighting up his face. The sight of him, standing there in the golden hue of the porch light, sends a flutter of nerves through me again, but his grin is genuine, reaching all the way to his bright eyes.

"Hey, Andy," he greets, stepping down to join us. His presence, the familiar deep tone of his voice, it sends a shiver down my spine, straight to my core.

"Hey, Brett." I try to sound casual, even though my heart is practically pounding out of my chest.

Brett seems to sense my nervousness because he gives me a reassuring pat on the back as he guides us inside. The interior of the house is warm and inviting, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. Pizza, likely covered in sausage and pepperoni, the way Brett loves it. I‘m more of a Hawaiian pizza guy myself.

We settle down in the living room, and Isabelle immediately starts chattering away, filling me in on all the happenings in her life as a booked and busy fourth grader. As I listen to her, I steal glances at Brett, who is watching us with a fond smile. He seems exactly like a proud dad should. So odd thinking of him like that. A dad. He fits the role so well, too. I know he has nothing but love for his daughter. It’s a beautiful sight to see, and it only makes me happier that I made the decision to come back to Shafter Falls.

Brett brings the pizza and plates to the coffee table, and I’m surprised to see that there are two. One meat lover’s and another half Hawaiian and half pepperoni. He can’t be too upset with me if he went to the effort of remembering which pizza I like. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared memories. I can tell from the thoughtful glances that Brett wants to ask about my sexuality. I’m not nervous about his reaction or sharing it with him, I just have the natural feeling every gay guy has when they need to ‘come out’ all over again. Because it never really happens just once. There’s a whole orbit of people you had to come out to over a period of time until eventually you just say, ‘fuck it,’ and let people assume whatever they want. I’m not quite at that stage yet.

After dinner, as Isabelle retreats to her room to do homework and read, Brett and I find ourselves alone in the living room. The moment of truth, it seems, has finally arrived.

Brett takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious. "Andy, about last night..." he begins, but I interrupt him.

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