Page 6 of House of Deceit

My dad moves behind my mother and slips his hands around her waist before pressing a kiss to her neck. They sway for a moment over the faded black and white checkered linoleum floor. When I was growing up, music would float upstairs from the living room after they put me to bed. Crooners crying out about how deeply they loved their soul mate. I would lie on my stomach at the top of the stairs and watch them dance in the living room, their eyes closed and smiles on their faces. Watching them created warmth in my heart. Like getting a glimpse of heaven this side of the veil.

I hope with all my heart that my parents will dance together for eternity, but the smallest twinge of jealousy flickers while watching them. I’ve searched for a love like theirs, but I haven’t been able to find it for myself. Yet. Every time a relationship falls through the cracks, I wonder if I’ll be alone forever. But I’d rather be alone than with the wrong person.

Still, I hope to find someone to dance with me in the kitchen.

“You’re covered in dirt. Knock it off and get cleaned up,” she says, swatting at him.

“Yes, dear.” They share a smile, my mother blushing, making my stomach heave. And the sweet moment ends. I love that my parents are in love but choose to believe they have been celibate ever since they conceived me.

The pea green cabinet door squeaks as I grab plates while Dad washes up. As I set them next to my mother, the smell of coffee wafts up from the pot on the counter. I fill three mugs, adding cream and sugar to two, and take them to the table.

Silence reigns as we all tuck into our brunch until the last bit of icing has been licked from our plates.

“Are you ready to discuss why you’re here?” Mom asks.

“I can’t come visit my parents because I miss them?”

“You could, if you weren’t sweating tequila.” The annoyance in her voice makes me duck my head.

“Okay, that’s fair,” I concede.

“Are you a lesbian?” she blurts.

I almost choke on my tongue. “What? No, I’m not a lesbian. I would have told you by now.”

“Well, Marjorie’s son just came out to her this week, and he’s about ten years older than you. And we’d hope you know we are completely supportive of whomever you love but weren’t sure if you’d still be nervous to tell us.” My mother pats my hand, her hands soft.

“Of course. I know you don’t care who I love.”

“So?”

“No, Mom!”

“Are you sure? Because you and Courtney would be so great together if she just kicked the husband to the curb.”

“You love J.D.,” I say with confusion.

“We do. We could never hate someone that won sweet Courtney’s heart, but you two are such a good match,” my mother says.

“Mom? Dad? I’m officially coming out to you as straight. I like men. Love them, in fact, even though they drive me crazy most days.”

My mother's shoulders sag with disappointment and she releases a sigh. “All right then, I suppose.”

I roll my eyes to the heavens and pray to anyone listening for strength.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I wanted to tell you a few things. Scott broke up with me.”

“Was he jealous of Courtney?”

I slam my head down on the table. “Oh. My. God. I’m not with Courtney! I don’t have feelings for Courtney. I. Like. Dick. I can’t believe I have to tell my parents that. I’m going to throw up.”

“Okay, okay.” My mother taps the table, her signal to calm down.

“Honey, what your mother is trying to say is that we never really liked Scott. He was so condescending. And the length of his pants was always weird. How much ankle do we really need to see? So, good riddance and all that,” my dad says.

I lift my head and look at him. “Well, not entirely good riddance, because he was paying half the bills.”

“But weren’t you up for a promotion soon? I thought they had been promising you a senior writing position?” Mom asks. “Maybe that will help you bridge the gap while you look for a new roommate!”

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