Marcus reached his arm over to the dresser and grabbed my phone. We both sat up in bed, resting against the wall. He handed me my phone.
"Hold my hand, ok?"
"Sure," he said.
Nervously, both my hands shaking slightly, I dialed my mom. After a few rings, she answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom, it's me."
"Oh, hi sweetie!" she said excitedly. "How are you? Are you all ready for classes to start? I was looking at the weather report for Boston and it doesn't get above freezing all week! Do you have a heavy winter coat?"
I couldn't help but smile. She was such a mom all the time.
"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. I think I have everything I need."
"Okay, well, you call me if you think of something you need."
"Okay."
"So," she said, "how are you doing?"
"I'm fine. I'm calling 'cause I need to talk to you about something."
"Oh, sure, what's up?"
I felt Marcus gently squeeze my hand in his. I looked over and saw the expression on his face; he seemed to be saying that everything was okay, that it would be hard, but everything would be okay.
"Well, Mom," I started. I could feel my face heating up and turning red. I was so nervous. "I guess there's no easy way to say this."
"So, just say it," she said, matter-of-factly.
With a tremendous effort, like I was attempting to push a jumbo jet along a road with sheer willpower, I spoke. It was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do in my life. I started to tear up again.
"I'm gay."
There was silence, a huge and deafening silencing. It was suddenly as if the hundreds of miles that separated my mom and I had been dropped into the phone call. After a time, though, she spoke.
"Okay," she said simply.
"Okay?" I asked. I couldn't really believe things would be that simple.
"Yeah, okay," she said. "You're gay."
This was just a little bit weird. She wasn't crying, she wasn't even upset. I had no idea what to do. Marcus looked poised, as if not wanting to become prematurely encouraged by this.
"That's all?"
"Well," she started, "what else is there? I mean, you're still my son and I sill love you. This doesn't change anything between us. I don't think I would've seen this coming, but so what?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
There was another period of silence. I certainly didn't want to say anything else; hopefully Mom could keep talking, I thought. After a few moments of this silence, in which both Mom and I were processing what had just happened, she spoke again.
"So," she continued, "how long have you been gay?"
"Actually, I've sorta known that I was gay for a while. I just couldn't bring myself to tell anybody about it."
Another silence. Crap. Were we really going to keep this awkward back-and-forth-then-silence thing going for the whole call? After another few moments, perhaps sensing that I wasn't inclined to talk, Mom spoke yet again.
"Have you told your father?"
"No."
"Are you going to?"
"I don't know."
Marcus looked at me with understanding. I think he finally understood what it would be like to tell my dad I was gay. After all, it took an incredible effort to tell my mom, and I expected her to react much better than Dad.
"Okay, well, you know what this means, don't you?"
What this means? I had no idea what she was talking about. Maybe she was about to warn me about how Dad would react.
"No, what?" I asked cautiously.
"This means that, instead of asking you if you have a girlfriend yet, I'll be asking if you have a boyfriend yet!"
Mom, in almost every phone call or trip home that I'd taken since coming to Boston for college, had asked me the same question every time: do you have a girlfriend yet? It actually became sort of a running joke between us. I mean, she obviously didn't know that I didn't want a girlfriend, but, before now, I was content to let the joke run its course. She liked to play up the 'nosy mom' routine, but really she just wanted me to find somebody.
Upon hearing my mom's loud voice from the phone, Marcus smiled widely and let out a little laugh. I couldn't help but smile.
"Well, actually Mom, you won't need to ask that question anymore. I'd like you to say hello to my boyfriend, Marcus."
I was so excited as I handed Marcus the phone.
"Hello, Mrs. Hughes," he said excitedly.
"Hello, Marcus!" I heard her say. "And don't call me Misses Hughes. I'm Mary."
"Okay, Mary." he said, smiling.
"So, you're dating my son?"
"Yeah. He's pretty awesome."
"Oh, lord," she said playfully, "don't tell him that. His ego is already big enough!"
I heard her chuckling at herself on the other end of the phone as Marcus and I laughed happily.
I put the phone on its speaker setting and the three of us talked for several more minutes. Mom, back to her old, mom-self, was rather nosily asking all about how we met and started dating. It was, of course, a rather short story – this was only our second day together, after all.
"Well," she said, "I should go. I need to get dinner started, then I have to make sure your brother studies for his U.S. History test."
"Okay. Love you, mom."
"I love you too, sweetie!"
"Bye, Mary!" Marcus said.
"Bye, Marcus, you take good care of him. And you two have fun together!"
"Thanks, we will," he said.
And, with a click, I heard her hang up the phone. I was so happy, I could barely stand it. It was done, at least as far as mom was concerned. Dad would be another story, but I'd worry about him later.
"You know," I said, "it'll be your turn next."
"Fair enough," he said, "but aren't you glad you did that?"
I lunged across the bed at him, knocking his head back down onto the pillow. We playfully wrestled around the bed, kissing passionately.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
We made love again before getting dressed and venturing out to find some dinner.