A Kind of Honesty Read online

  I set my dark glasses back on my nose and moved toward the bottom of the path to greet Liam, who barreled at me full force, nearly knocking me backward on my ass.

  “I didn’t know you were coming! Can I stay? Can I go to your house or you can come to—?”

  I squeezed him tightly, then stood and ruffled his hair. “I heard you have a big bowling date with your dad tonight. How ’bout if I pick you up in the morning? We’ll play video games and eat donuts until our stomachs hurt. What d’ya say?”

  “Awesome!”

  We high-fived and made a quick plan while his father watched us thoughtfully. There was a time I would have shielded myself from his scrutiny, intent to find fault when my comfort level was compromised. Today I felt an accord I attributed to the beginnings of personal acceptance. I just hoped it didn’t desert me.

  I waved to Liam and Rob, then made my way toward my mom waiting for me at the door with a broad smile.

  She was wearing a long, flowing print skirt and a plain T-shirt in deference to the warm August day. I stared at her for a moment, thinking she looked so pretty in the sunlight. Perhaps it was the distance, but from my vantage at the end of the path, I didn’t detect the anxiety she wore most days like a raincoat on a sunny day. She was always ready for a storm regardless of the weather forecast.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetheart. Aren’t you fancy, having a chauffeur drive you around town?” she teased as she ushered me inside. “It’s probably time for you to get rid of that old truck anyway. It’s not practical for babies. Do you want something to drink?”

  “Um… yeah. Water, please.” I cleared my throat and paced to the kitchen window, listening as she filled me in on Liam’s summer camp schedule and something about how excited he was to see me.

  “I wanted to surprise him so I didn’t say a word when you told me you were flying in for a quick visit. You will be here for dinner tomorrow, right?”

  I ignored her question as I turned to sit at the small kitchen table. I wasn’t sure she’d want me to stay when I was done here. “Mom. Sit down. Please.”

  “I’ll be right there. Would you like a cookie or a snack? It’s a little early for dinner but—”

  “Mom. Please,” I repeated.

  She gave me a curious grin as she set a plate of homemade oatmeal cookies on the table and took the chair next to mine.

  “Are you all right? Did you set a date for the wedding?”

  “No. Um—” I reached for my water and took another gulp before glancing at her. “Mom, I made a mistake. A series of mistakes actually.”

  “No baby is a mistake, Timothy.”

  “There is no baby.”

  “But she’s pregnant and she told the world it’s yours.”

  “She lied, Mom.”

  “What? Are you sure? How do you know?”

  “She told me. The math doesn’t add up, but I knew it all along. I wish I had been more adamant. I guess I figured it would go away on its own, but—it only got more complicated.”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “People lie all the time.”

  “But it’s so ridiculous.” Her nose twitched in distaste. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I answered truthfully.

  “Oh honey. I’m sorry. There’s plenty of time for children. You’ll meet someone nice and—”

  “I did.”

  “What?”

  “I met someone nice. Actually… I met someone amazing.”

  I gave her an earnest look, wishing she’d just… get it. She didn’t. Her expression remained tentatively hopeful. She obviously wanted to be happy for me and maybe plan a freaking wedding, but she seemed to sense there was a catch.

  “That’s wonderful,” she replied cautiously.

  “Yeah. It is. But—I’ve made a mess. I’m going to try to unravel it, but it won’t be easy.” I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “The things is… I have to start here.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  I jumped to my feet and moved back to look out the window before turning back to face her. God, this was hard.

  “I lied to you about who I am. In my defense, I grew up here. We pretended things didn’t happen in this house. We brushed our worst fears and our biggest secrets under the rug because we didn’t want anyone to know the truth about us. But… I’m through being dishonest or partially honest with room for interpretation depending on who I’m talking to. I thought you might want to know truth about me.”

  “What do—?”

  “The picture you saw of Miranda and me… the engagement ring, the restaurant… it was fake. The one of Carter and me… that one was real.”

  Silence.

  My mother cocked her head, clearly puzzled. She didn’t look disgusted, just… confused. I wiped my hands on my navy shorts before walking back to the table.

  “Are you saying you’re—no. I don’t get it.”

  “Then I’ll be clear. I’m in love with Carter.”

  “But he’s your friend,” she insisted with a frown.

  “He is. But he’s more than just a friend.”

  She stared at me for a long moment, then opened and closed her mouth before letting out a muffled-sounding gasp.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I’m not going through a phase. I’m not temporarily insane. Nothing intrinsic has changed, except for the first time I’m being one hundred percent honest with you about how I feel. I let you think the magazines were making up the bi angle. I let you believe it was PR nonsense I didn’t control. To some degree I didn’t care what they said. I wanted to think it was because the music mattered more than anyone’s opinion. The thing is… I was scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “I didn’t want to disappoint you by telling the whole truth. I figured it was fine for you to assume I was completely straight. Hell, I dated girls. I just didn’t… fall in love with one.”

  “Love.” She squinted slightly as she spoke, as though testing the word’s integrity on her tongue. She hummed softly and blinked. “Does your sister know?”

  “About Carter? No, but she knows I’m bi. She knew enough to put two and two together when Rob and I were teenagers.”

  “Rob. Were you—? Were you with him? That way?”

  “Yes. And no.” I paused to take a sip of water. I still wasn’t sure how much I wanted to say. “Rob was important to me a long time ago. He’s important now because he’s Liam’s dad and he’s trying to do a better job than either of our fathers did.”

  “Who else have you told?” she whispered.

  “My friends know,” I said, shrugging absently.

  “I wish you’d said something sooner. I—wish I knew.”

  “You’re the first to know the important part. I love him and I’m going to make sure those who are really interested in the real story get the whole truth. What I’m trying to say is I’m ready to come out. All the way out.”

  “What about Liam? God, everyone he knows is gay. I’m not sure you should say anything to him. He’s too young.”

  “He’s not too young. There’s no shame in feeling the way I do about Carter. The shame is denying it. I know that now. I’m more afraid of losing him than I am of coming out.”

  “So that’s what you’re doing now… with me? You’re coming out.” She spoke in a deliberate tone as though she was testing the words again. Love. Gay. Bi. Coming out. All foreign and yet… maybe not.

  “Yeah,” I replied, studying her for clues. “How did I do?”

  “You did well.” She cocked her head and smiled softly.

  I swallowed hard, suddenly choked with emotion I didn’t trust not to bubble over into a hot mess. “Thanks. So did you.”

  “Is this going to be on the news?”

  “Probably. Yes. Are you going to be okay with that?”

  “It’s not about me. It’s your decision.”

  I swallowed hard, wishing I didn’t care abou
t this next question when in fact it was the only thing that mattered to me.

  “Mom, are you going to be okay with me?”

  She gave me a quizzical look. “You?”

  “Me. I just—” I swiped at my hair and licked my lips before continuing. “I need to know if this is going to make things weird between us. I know you’re probably surprised but—”

  “I’m shocked.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment, lost in uncertainty. In less than ten minutes I’d changed her perception of me. A lifetime of assuming she knew me. She obviously didn’t know what to think, and I didn’t know how I’d handle yet another parent’s rejection. I wanted to claim it didn’t matter, but I knew it would hurt.

  She reached for my hand and squeezed it tenderly. “You’re my son, Timothy. I love you. I want you to be happy. If Carter makes you happy, that’s all that counts.”

  I smiled. A cautious upturn of the lips was all I could manage without giving in to tears. She returned my smile with a tentative one before launching herself from her chair to hug me fiercely. She threaded her fingers through my hair like she had when I was a child and whispered something nonsensical but sweet. The words didn’t matter. Her familiar embrace scented with the floral essence of her favorite perfume took me back in time to a faraway place where touch conveyed a message of unconditional love and support. I closed my eyes and held on tight. At once full of gratitude. And hope.

  There was one more stop to make before I headed back to the city. I vowed to keep my visit short, but I couldn’t put this off and I didn’t want to overthink it. Action, I reminded myself. No more worrying or spinning… action.

  I looked up at the antique mirror the following afternoon, thinking it was weird that we always met in this room. The grounds of the mansion were beautiful. It was raining today and there were probably mosquitos by the pond but—

  “Hey. Why are you here?”

  I turned abruptly when my sister entered the room. Same ol’, same ol’, I mused. She looked the same. She even wore the same hostile expression she had the last time I’d visited. I smiled, hoping I looked reassuring and friendly rather than agitated. Kat was a shark. If she sensed fear, I’d be a goner.

  “Hi there. You look… tired,” I said, opting for the safe observation.

  “I’m fine. You look like a cross between shit and… something marginally less offensive.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kat howled with laughter, garnering the attention of a couple passing by the open door. Lovely.

  “I bet you’re here about Rob. Are you going to comfort me and tell me not to worry about the custody thing? If so, hold your breath. I don’t care.”

  “O-kay. Why?”

  “’Cause let’s be real…. Rob’s cool and I’m not ready to take care of a six-year-old.”

  “Liam’s nine.”

  Kat snickered as she collapsed into her favorite chair. “See? Say no more. The homos win.”

  I gritted my teeth and rounded on her angrily, though what I really wanted was to pick her up and shake her senseless. “Why do you do this? I know you, Kat. You’re not cold or callous. You care about that kid. Why are you punishing yourself?”

  She widened her eyes in surprise before her gaze turned shrewd and suspicious. “For the same reason you do. Take your pick… low self-esteem, daddy issues, inferiority complex. I don’t deserve Liam. That’s why I won’t fight Rob. He’s done all the work. He’s the one who’s always been there. I’m a fuckup.”

  “You deserve him too! Get better for him, Kat. Yeah, Rob is a great dad, but that doesn’t mean your son doesn’t want to know you. Who’s gonna tell him stories about us growing up? Who’s gonna—?”

  “Which ones? The ones where we hid under the bed making up singing rhymes to drown out the sound of our parents fighting? Or Mom’s constant crying? Or should I just tell him about his sweet Grandpa who turned into an unrecognizable asshole the second he opened a bottle? Gone was our daddy… the guy who made root beer floats and paper airplanes. I hardly remember that guy. The one I do remember was mean, spiteful, judgmental, and casually cruel. No one was safe until he drank his last drop and passed the fuck out.”

  “No. I don’t—”

  “Then leave me alone!” she screamed. “I don’t want your guilt. Leave that to Mom. You worry about you. I refuse to make things hard for that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him. It’s important to know when to choose your battles. Sometimes you go out swinging and other times… you surrender.”

  Her railing, militant speech spiraled into a soft-spoken plea. Her hurt and despair bled through each haphazard word she flung at me. She was brutally honest. Brutally real. But it was the last one that stung the most. Surrender. Giving in. Giving up.

  “I didn’t come to talk about Rob. Or Liam.” I sat at the edge of the sofa and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. “I came to tell you to let go. I’m not angry anymore. I forgive you. I forgive Rob. And I love Liam. I’m good. I just—I want you to be good to you. Under all that heavy armor you wear, you’re an amazing woman, Kat. I think it was a matter of good intentions gone sideways. But it happened a long time ago. Don’t punish yourself anymore. You’ve hit your bottom. It’s time to get up now.”

  I stood and brushed a quick kiss on her forehead before stepping away.

  “Wait! Where are you going?”

  “Home. I’ve got a class in the morning and I can’t be late. I love you, sis. Be good.”

  12

  On the drive to the airport, I checked my phone. There were a couple panicked messages from Cammy wanting to know how she should handle the flurry of nonstop photos Miranda had been posting recently. But nothing from Carter. I stared unseeing out the rain-streaked window as I tried to decide if it was worth the headache to see how far from reality the story had strayed. Curiosity won. I ran a quick search on my cell and immediately swore.

  Evidently I was in LA right now house-hunting in the Hollywood Hills with my beautiful fiancée. There was a fairly decent picture of us touring a spacious home with a huge yard. Miranda was beaming at the camera while I was in shadow with my back turned. I wasn’t sure who she’d hired to be my stand-in, but he was believable.

  It was funny that a silly little photo with a clever caption could create a firestorm of interest. It was on every social media platform I knew of, which meant it must be true, I thought sarcastically. It was harmless, fun entertainment to the millions of people who scrolled through that nonsense quickly. Digesting sensational details like cotton candy at a ball game. Satisfying for a short time… but it was never enough. And it never would be because it wasn’t real. Carter got that. He may have been from a different world than me, but he was firmly ensconced in reality. I wanted to be there with him.

  The butterflies in my stomach fluttered wildly when the taxi driver came to a stop in front of Mind + Body Yoga studio. I adjusted my Orioles baseball cap and looked out the window. I was fairly certain I’d been followed by an overly zealous reporter. Unlike any other day since my band had skyrocketed up the charts and my privacy had been compromised… today I welcomed the intrusion. My ill-conceived idea was risky, but it was time to throw everything I had at what I really wanted.

  “Yo! You stayin’ or goin’?” the cabbie snarked, eyeing me suspiciously in his rearview mirror.

  “I’m going.” I handed over a twenty and stepped onto the sidewalk, cautiously scanning the busy avenue before I hurried toward the entrance.

  The Saturday morning intermediate yoga class had already started. I was two minutes late, which was pretty damn good by my standards, but not by Carter’s. He was always early to this class. Saturday mornings were the most crowded, and he liked to get there in plenty of time to situate his mat in his favorite spot nearest the side wall. And although he was an advanced student, he liked Greg’s classes the best. He said Greg was adept at keeping the flow of movement in a way he felt best captured the essence of unity. Or some kind of bullshit.
Personally I still thought the guy was a prick. However, I was a regular now too. My name was always on the roster alongside Carter’s. I hadn’t been in a few weeks, but I had no doubt my credit card had been charged accordingly.

  I came without my mat today. In fact, other than wearing black workout shorts and a matching T-shirt, I was woefully unprepared. I hadn’t stretched. I hadn’t had anything but coffee to drink, and mentally I was a mess. I toed off my sneakers and put them next to Carter’s in his usual cubby space before approaching the reception desk.

  “Hi, Tim! Long time no see. Go on in. Greg just got started.” Jeremy greeted me with a wide grin and a wink before gesturing toward the closed studio door.

  “Right. Um… I need to borrow a mat. I forgot mine and—”

  “No problem. Pick your color and I’ll sign you in,” he instructed.

  I grabbed a black one from the shelf closest to the window but stopped when I sensed someone staring at me from the sidewalk. When I looked up no one was there. I gave a half laugh as I turned toward the classroom. Perfect.

  Time to get started.

  The haunting chimes and ethereal strains of Greg’s favorite yoga soundtrack floated through the room. I hadn’t grown any fonder of this music over the past few months, but in all fairness, it didn’t bother me now. My focus was generally on Carter’s ass, which probably negated the purpose of finding my own well of inner peace. Then again, maybe he was mine.

  I spotted him immediately and gave myself a moment to get my breathing under control. Fuck, he was beautiful. He was draped in a pigeon pose with his left leg bent while he stretched his arms forward. He looked fluid and alive. A man sure of his strength and willing to test his limits. I waved a quick hello at Greg when he noticed me, then adjusted the mat under my arm and strode deliberately toward Carter.

  “’Scuse me. Would you mind moving, please?” I politely asked the fortysomething woman lying flat on her stomach nearby. The room was wall-to-wall mats. The only real open space was in the very back of the studio. That wasn’t going to work today.