Page 36 of Everything We Thought Was True
I’d told my dad it would be best if his boyfriend didn’t come with him because I didn’t want his relationship to be the focus of the wedding—for him to essentially out himself to anyone who still didn’t know he was gay. Remembering this filled me with regret and an overwhelming sense of sadness that my dad had needed to hide who he was on one of the most important days of mylife. Sometimes agreeing to live the same lie made a family a family. We excelled at burying the truth and all its inconveniences.
Chapter Nineteen
FRANK - NEW ROCHELLE, NY
1979
Frank and Henry made plans to meet at the boat that evening after work. Frank knew something was up just by the way Henry had acted on the phone. He seemed guarded, as if he was holding back something, or perhaps Joanie had been in earshot. Frank had a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew Henry was getting impatient and wanted them to come out. Frank wished he could get on board. He didn’t want to lose Henry. But he also didn’t want to lose Teresa and the kids—his family.
Frank watched Henry’s familiar, confident stride as he walked down the dock. Henry stepped onto the boat and said hello to Frank, greeting him with a distance that made Frank nervous. He reminded himself they still had to be careful when docked at the boat club—play the charade of two good friends getting together.
They left the marina and headed out to open water. Once they reached a small inlet with more privacy near Glen Island, Frank slowed the boat down and cut the engine. He turned to Henry and looked at him pleadingly. “Talk to me.”
Henry didn’t hold back. That wasn’t their style. They didn’t play games with each other. There was enough lying in their lives.
Henry looked Frank in the eye, unflinching. “It’s time, Frank. I’m ready to fully come out. To leave Joanie. And I want you with me. Which means you have to tell Teresa... everything.”
Frank sucked in a sharp breath.
“She deserves to know, Frank,” Henry said.
Frank stared at Henry, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe it. Of all people, Henry was lecturing him about being truthful with Teresa. Henry, who was just as much a guilty party as he was—who was the reason for his guilt, for God’s sake. Frank would decide exactly what Teresa needed to know and when. She was his wife, dammit. He didn’t need anyone else telling him how to handle his marriage. He already had enough guilt, thank you very much, without Henry constantly reminding him of it. Although he recognized Henry’s attempts to be helpful, they often came across as bordering on threats—like Henry would reveal his secret if Frank didn’t come out soon.
“Stay out of it,” he said with a growl to his voice, which surprised him.
He was so confused. On the one hand, he felt like he had to defend Teresa and his marriage. Yet this was Henry. His Henry, who wanted him to be free to be himself for his own sake but also so they could be together.
But can we?Frank was wrestling with feelings of guilt and sin and wasn’t sure he could ever break free of them and be himself.
Henry softened his voice. “I think Lena may suspect something, based on how she acted on the boat on Saturday. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells her mother. Do you really want Teresa to find out that way?”
“No, of course not.” Frank shook his head, confused. “I don’t know what that was on the boat the other day. I’ve thought about it a lot since then. But let’s not overreact. Lena’s only nine years old, for Christ’s sake. I doubt she thinks we’re lovers. She probably...”
Frank couldn’t put into words his garbled thoughts, not sure what exactlyhadhappened with Lena. She’d seemed surprised when she came out of the cabin and saw them.But will she really jump to the conclusion that I’m gay? Will she even know what that is at such a young age?
“She’s pretty damn precocious, Frank—you know that. She may not know exactly what she saw, but I wouldn’t put it past her to be suspicious.”
Frank nodded. Even if Lena couldn't define it, he wouldn't be shocked if she thought something was amiss with him and Henry. And that made him feel so many competing emotions—petrified, heartbroken, guilt ridden. His daughter might have unintentionally seen him for who he was—someone deceiving his family time and time again.
Frank put his hands over his face and blew out a long breath as he slumped down against the boat seat, feeling it hold him up. “I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around all this. Teresa wants us to be more of a family. And I do too. I want my family.” He hesitated. Then he looked up at Henry and whispered, “But I also want you. I love you.”
“I love you too. You know I do. But I can’t do this any longer, Frank. I need to be the real me—inside and out. No more hiding.”
Frank didn’t know if Henry was extremely brave or stupid and naive. But he was jealous—so jealous. He was jealous of Henry’s ability to break free from his self-imposed jail. Jealous of the man Henry would be with once he fully came out. Because Frank could already see it wouldn’t be him. He couldn’t leave Teresa. He wasn’t ready for the change Henry described, because as tempting as it sounded, he would have to give up his family. And just the thought of losing them made him feel physically ill. He’d known this choice would come—Henry or his family. And he had a feeling which he would choose. By the look on his face, so didHenry.
“You’re not ready? You’re not leaving her?” Henry gazed at him, waiting.
Frank shook his head. He felt tangled in a web. He could either deny who he really was or live a life he couldn't share with his family. It was impossible to reconcile what he felt and who he was with what was expected of him.
Henry gave a long sad sigh that said so much. “Okay. I had a feeling. And now I know.”
“I hate this. I want to be with you. I do. But I hate what being with you makes me.”
“Oh, Frank, stop it. You’re so brainwashed. There’s nothing wrong with you! Goddamn Catholic church. I swear, you kill me sometimes. You really do.”
“It’s not just my religion. It’s everything. Our entire society.” Frank shook his head. “I’m sorry. But I’m not where you are. Maybe I’ll get there someday. But not yet.”
“You know what this means?” Henry asked, sadness blanketing his features.
