I’d been working as a lawyer for three years, drawing up wills and minor legal assistance activities, when the lawyer for whom I’d been working, disappeared. The FBI arrived the next day with a warrant and emptied the office of all paperwork and computers. The office was shut down. One of the FBI guys said that I was a dupe, and while none of the evidence gathered so far indicated I was involved in anything, I was not allowed to leave the country until the investigation was complete.
I was out of work, and my parents suggested it was the perfect time to come back to my hometown and try to open my own office. They told me that I could live back at home to reduce living expenses and suggested I could work out of the house while deciding about office space.
Thanksgiving was a little over a week away, and I decided to pack the car and go home. I was surprised at how excited I was about going back to my hometown. I drove away from that city without any regrets or sadness. I began to wonder why I had decided to move there to begin with.
My parents were going to visit relatives the day after Thanksgiving. We dug the Christmas decorations out of the basement, and my father and I strung lights in the bushes in the front of the house. Thanksgiving Day was great. I ate too much, and so did my dad. My mother never overeats. After a wonderful meal, we began to decorate the house. We’d put up the tree, and I was about to throw myself on the sofa when my mother handed me the electric candle.
“You’re home,” she said. “It’s time to put it up again.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “You’re right.” I headed back to my bedroom with the candle in my hand. I’d turned it off the night Elliot had hit me. I’d never spoken to him again after that day, and I’d never put the candle back up.
That night, I placed the candle back in the window and plugged it in. I covered the sensor with my thumb and the light flickered on. I stood up and turned to go as my mother walked into the room with my father right behind her.
“I know that you took the candle down the night you and Elliot had your fight.”
I nodded. I’d never told then what had really happened, and I didn’t plan to now.
“I wanted you to know that I found out the other day that he came back to town a few months ago. I don’t know if you were aware that he got married after college. I heard she cheated on him. He’s come back permanently; he has a job working as a quality control foreman in the chemical plant.”
My dad added, “I hear his brother is going to work for the city planning department.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I said rather unemotionally.
“I just didn’t want you to run into him and have him beat the shit out of you again.” I saw her smile.
“Is that how you saw it?” I asked.
“Well, not really, Jeff.”
“Say it, Mom.”
“OK. Here it is. Elliot’s mother and I always wondered which one of you would admit to being gay first. I guess you won that one when you told Elliot. I always thought you’d tell me or your dad first. We’re both still waiting.”
My dad turned and looked at the open door.
“I’m glad you’re both here. I just want you both to be the first to hear me say this. I’m gay.”
“I knew you liked boys. I told your mom,” said my dad.
“No. I told you,” she retorted.
“Hey. I’m not a pedophile. I don’t like ‘boys’. I’m gay. I prefer men. Besides, I never said that to Elliot. I never told him I was gay.”
“Then why’d he beat the shit out of you?” asked my dad.
“He didn’t beat the shit out of me. He hit me and pushed me down because I told him I was in love with him. Fucking hell, Dad.”
“Language, Jeff,” said my mother; then to my dad, “I told you he was in love with Elliot.”
“That was ten years ago,” said my dad, and he patted me on the back.
“Yeah,” said my mom, “you were just a kid.” Then she rolled her eyes. She fucking rolled her eyes. She turned and walked out of the room.
My father looked at me. He kissed me on my forehead. “It’s OK to still be in love with him.” He held me close and whispered, “You can say ‘fuck’ as long as the door is closed and you and your boyfriend aren’t too loud.”
“I love you, Daddy, but just so you know, I’m not in love with him anymore. I haven’t been for years, and I’m not sure it really was love. Maybe I was falling in love. I certainly lusted after him.”
“And if you see him again?”
“I’ll… I guess I’ll be polite.”
After my parents left for their trip, I set about to clean-up and organize the basement. It had been on every to-do list since I was ten. There had been an apartment down there that the previous owners had rented. I figured that I could get it fixed up, and my parents could rent it to me. They’d be able to use the rent money for vacations. I’d be paying less in rent money and have use of the back yard. It would be a win-win, if I could pull it off.
It didn’t take me long to realize that the flooring for the apartment needed to be replaced. I wasn’t sure that my budget could handle that, but I ripped it out. On the third day, I had repainted the walls. I planned to replace the workings of the toilet tank. A flush to empty the tank was all it took to make me realize there was a leak under the toilet. I pulled the unit and discovered the wax seal was cracked. I took a sigh of relief. A two dollar replacement seal was better than a whole new toilet.
I washed up and decided I’d make a quick trip to Walmart and then stop by for some chicken tenders when I heard the doorbell. It was only a little after six, but it was dark, and the porch was poorly lit by the Christmas lights. I slowly opened the door to find Elliot standing in the shadows. I opened the door a little farther.
