Page 25 of Brighton

“A man?” I was not at all comfortable with this. Clearly Brighton’s sexuality had never been a topic of discussion and I more than understood why he hadn’t bothered to share anything personal with them.

“Yes, Mother, a man.”

“I guess that means you’re gay,” his father shook his head.

“I guess it does. Do you want us to leave, or should we come inside?”Go Brighton!I mentally cheered. Five minutes on the front stoop and my boy was nearing the end of this nonsense.

“Yes, of course, come inside.” His parents moved back enough we could finally pass.

Brighton took our coats and hung them on the rack. “Sorry,” he whispered to me.

“Don’t you dare apologize for these people. You’ve done no wrong.” Their actions were theirs and theirs alone and it grated on me how negatively it affected my boy.

“Brighton, come set the table,” his mother called out and he diligently followed her from the room which left me with the father. No hugs, no hellos, no greeting of any sort, just a get to work now demand.

“What do you do for a living? Edward, is it?”

“Yes, Edward, and I own a few furniture stores.”

“What, one of those pick it up and build it yourself type places?” Joe chided, thinking he’d caught me, and I was nothing more than a dollar store. “Particle board-r-us.”

“No. High-end furnishings that we deliver and set up for our customers.” This guy needed to be knocked down several pegs and I was just the man for the job.

“They don’t care that you’re gay or dating someone as young as Brighton?”

And there it was, the shit he chomped at the bit to unleash. “Well, Joe, that’s the beauty of owning the place and being a millionaire. It doesn’t matter what anyone but Brighton and I think or feel.”And that includes you, dipshit. Fuck, how I wanted to say those words aloud. Joe nodded and sat down, diverting his attention from me to the TV.

“Dinner’s ready,” Brighton’s mother, Shiela, called from the kitchen. Brighton was nowhere in sight so I followed her voice and saw my boy standing there. Shoulders slumped, clearly defeated. This was not playing out well for these people.

“My love, what’s wrong?” I whispered, though I could care less if they heard me. Brighton threw his arms around my waist though he did his best not to cry. “Do you want to leave?”

“More than you know, only it would cause more problems if we did. Let’s get through dinner then we’re out of here.”

“Deal.”

As soon as we sat, they started in, only they conversed among themselves as though neither of us were there. “This is just a phase, I’m sure,” Shiela said. “This man and your new life. Might as well give up the roux now, Brighton, and move back home. We can get you packed and back in your old room next weekend.”

“I’m not moving back home,” Brighton ground out.

“Yes, you are. You move out, suddenly you’re gay and dating a man my age. This is nonsense. We didn’t raise you to be like this,” Joe snapped and that was the last straw for me.

“You know, I’m not quite sure how two people as cold and heartless as you both are managed to raise such a warm and loving son.”

“Well, I never,” Shiela gasped, and clutched at the proverbial pearls she didn’t wear. “You won’t speak to me like that in my own home.”

“Brighton, it’s time this nonsense ends. Look what you’ve done to your mother,” Joe said as Sheila dabbed at her eyes. Mind you there were zero tears released from them. “We’ll move you home tomorrow. None of this waiting until next weekend.”

“See, Joe, I told you this would happen. We never should’ve let him leave.”

Joe stood. “Edward, it’s time you leave.”

“If he leaves, then so do I,” Brighton said loud and clear. I was so proud of him.

“What?” Shiela asked.

“You heard me.” At this point, I swear Brighton snarled.

“This is the thanks we get for all we’ve done for you. Twelve hours of labor, countless nights of lost sleep,” Sheila droned on.

---