After dessert, Jack, Rodney, Stan and I retreated to the back porch for drinks. Over the next few hours, I learned a lot about their family, particularly the acrimonious breakup of Jack’s parents. Seemingly out of the blue, Rodney came home one day and told his wife that he was gay. With few other words, he packed his bags and left her for a flight attendant named Stanley.
I suddenly realized that the chilly reception I received from Jack’s mom had nothing to do with me. There was not a doubt in my mind that Jack’s announcement of, “Hi, mom, I’m gay and this is my boyfriend—See you later!” brought back many unhealed memories of her failed marriage. Poor woman. Poor, poorly dressed woman.
Having long aged out of his twinky-stewardess phase, Stan had moved on to a new career. He gushed when he learned that I was a nurse, because he too now worked in medicine.
“You’re a nurse?” he asked with a wild bewilderment usually reserved for those about 25 years younger than he.
“Yes,” I said proudly, “a pediatric nurse.” (Jasper swears that I think I was Julia in a former life)
“How exciting,” he squealed, “I’m a medical professional as well. I’m a phlebotomist.” His diction was so perfect you’d think he’d just announced his role as Surgeon General of the United States.
“What’s that?” Jack asked. Why are the cute ones never bright? After explaining that his job is to draw blood, Stan and I discovered that we both worked at the same hospital.
“Maybe I’ll see you on the battlefield, soldier,” he enthusiastically said to me. I doubt it. But it’s a nice sentiment all the same.
By the end of the evening, I’d had too many drinks to consider driving. Rodney invited Jack and I should spend the night. As Jack and I crawled into the living room sofa bed. Rodney and Stan stood in the doorway like too proud parents.
“Good night,” one of them said. “Lube
and condoms are in the kitchen junk draw. Just don’t make too much noise. The neighbors’ll complain.” Huh? And with that, Jack’s fathers turned out the foyer light and retreated to their bedroom.
and condoms are in the kitchen junk draw. Just don’t make too much noise. The neighbors’ll complain.” Huh? And with that, Jack’s fathers turned out the foyer light and retreated to their bedroom.“Do you like my parents?” Jack asked earnestly. I didn’t know what to think.
“I love them,” I fibbed
“Good,” Jack said, taking me in his arms. “Can’t wait for you to meet my sister. Maybe tomorrow?”
Jack quickly fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. I, however, spent the next hour staring at the ceiling, asking myself over and over again, “What have I gotten myself into?”
—tarts, cookies, and other delectable bite-sized delights. In an effort to give a more formal presentation, I plated the treats on a sterling silver service “borrowed” during a visit to my parents’ home in Oak Brook.