Part of a series of flash stories intended as a supplement to my story Safe Harbor. Context for this post is here.
Solomon was feeling optimistic after he and David sat down with Cece to explain what all their jobs entailed. She did seem to understand more about how the family's financial status afforded them opportunities that others don't have. Of course, he knew it would take more than one conversation to help his daughter see the bigger picture, but at least he and David had a better idea of how to approach things.
Working at the LGBT Youth Center wasn't easy, but Solomon knew he was meant for his job. Everyday he was face to face with young people in the community who were experiencing things he also dealt with when he was their age. It was fulfilling to see them persevere through all of the challenges that had befallen them.
Solomon reflected on the day his dad Reginald found out he was gay. A friend of his father had seen Solomon entering the local gay bar and passed the information onto Solomon's dad. Solomon was finishing up his Bachelor degree and still living with his parents at the time. When he arrived home from class one day, he was confronted by an angry Reggie. What happened next was a blur, but he remembered snippets of what his dad told him: "not in my house," "I raised you better than that," and "you're not really like those people," were some of the phrases that came to his mind.
Reggie kicked Solomon out that night. He couchsurfed at some friends houses for a while, but the feeling of rejection and loneliness became too much to deal with. He returned to his father's house and promised to turn away from the gay "lifestyle." He tried for a while; he began dating women and focusing on his school work, suppressing his true feelings. When one girlfriend started talking about marriage, he knew he was in too deep. He couldn't fathom getting married to someone he didn't love and possibly having a family with them. So he told her the truth. She didn't take it well. Neither did his father when he officially came out and said he was done hiding.
Solomon and his father were once again on the outs. Throughout the years they came together and then fell back apart. Reggie did, at times, express regret for denouncing his son but still struggled with the reality that Solomon was in a relationship with another man. He grew to love Cece (he initially said she wasn't really his granddaughter since they weren't blood related). But when Solomon and David got legally married, Reggie retreated once more. A few years had passed since then, but they still hadn't spoken.
Later that evening Solomon received an unexpected text from his mother Simone. He initially feared the worst after their sporadic contact, but the text simply said: "Do you have anything planned for Cece's birthday? We would love to come and help you set up and celebrate!" He was at once filled with both hope and doubt. He wasn't sure if he would ever mend things with his father but he knew he would regret not trying. After a slight hesitation, Solomon told Simone that she and Reginald were more than welcome to come. He hoped he wouldn't come to regret that decision.
Part of a series of flash stories intended as a supplement to my story Safe Harbor. Context for this post is here.
As Jimmy headed to the bar where Bonnie worked, he could feel the anger pulsing through his veins as though it were the only thing keeping his heart beating. There didn't need to be a reason for the rage to boil up within him; the feeling came naturally, often in the absence of reason. He wasn't sure why he was feeling that way tonight, but then he was never one for self-reflection.
Regardless, Jimmy had a few reasons to be on edge lately. His relationship with Bonnie was tense at best and the pressure of job hunting was getting to him. Jimmy had always held traditional values of manhood: Men are strong, don't show emotion, and provide for their families. In his current situation, his wife was the one earning money and he was stuck at home with the kids, 3 of which weren't even his.
God, those kids. Bonnie was a lax parent who let them rule the roost. The younger ones yelled or cried all the damn time, were in and out of bed as they pleased, and wouldn't bathe or do their homework unless they were forced. He tried to lay down the law, but Bonnie just looked the other way. Those kids really knew how to push his buttons.
It wasn't like that in his home, that's for certain. His dad was authoritarian and his mom backed up all of his decisions as the man of the house. If asked he would tell you the beatings made him the man he is today, which was true…but not in the way he meant it. He didn't see the connection between the violence he experienced in his childhood and the fury he felt, which costed him jobs and relationships and earned him a criminal record.
As he walked into the bar, his eyes surveyed the room. Suddenly he saw his wife's boss yelling at her, and the anger began seeping out through his fingers, finally leaving his body. He had acquired his target for the night. After some begging from Bonnie, he was able to rein it in…this time. The next target might not be so lucky.
Part of a series of flash stories intended as a supplement to my story Safe Harbor. Context for this post is here.
David laid in bed staring at the ceiling and hoping the view would bore him to sleep. However, his mind was racing with thoughts about Cece. For the first time, he was beginning to question his parenting skills. Cece was always well-behaved, and he supposed she still was. She got straight A's, she kept her bedroom clean, and never talked back. He wanted to say he didn't know where she got her sense of entitlement from, but he knew it was from her parents. Her mom, Amelia, grew up well off but Solomon's and David's families both struggled a bit. Still, together they were able to give Cece the best in life.
Growing up David rarely saw his father Harold. He was a workaholic, always staying late and arriving home at bedtime. When he was home, he would still find work to do. Harold was a man of few words, a stark contrast to his gabby wife and son. David tried to bond with his dad, but was resentful of the radio silence he received. Harold's idea of an emotional response was a shy smile and a hand on the shoulder. Maybe a couple of words if the mood struck.
When David came out to his dad, he had no idea how he would react. He didn't know how his father felt about homosexuality; he didn't even know how his father felt about him. He feared this would be the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. But when he choked out the words "I'm gay," a smile spread across his father's lips. He placed a hand on David's shoulder and with all the emotion he could muster said, "Well, that's alright." It wasn't the big emotional moment he had with his mother, but he knew it was his father's way of showing love and support. Though their relationship didn't change dramatically over the years, David's attitude did. He learned to meet his father where he was and stopped expecting him to be someone else.
When Harold passed away from illness a few years ago, David was confused when a lawyer wanted to meet with his family to go over the will. He lived in a modest home and never retired. David assumed he kept working to pay the bills. What could he possibly be leaving him? Shockingly, Harold had left a large sum of money to David and his family. It turned out Harold had been putting aside money for David since he was born. "He wanted it to be a surprise," Esther told him. David felt saddened by the realization. As appreciative he was of the money, he would have rather had his father's time. Having the money, however, allowed David to give Cece the time he'd wished he had with Harold. Now it was up to him to use that time to help his daughter gain a new perspective. As David brainstormed ideas on how to make that happen, he was finally able to drift off to sleep.
Part of a series of flash stories intended as a supplement to my story Safe Harbor. Context for this post is here.
Bonnie stood at the stove, jostling the fish filets in the pan so violently that you'd think they were still alive and trying to escape the pan. She was still angry at Jimmy from the prior day's argument, a feeling that was becoming more familiar and less comfortable every day. As the scent of fried trout filled her nostrils, her mind drifted to thoughts of her father and the fishing lake. Her happy place.
Noah Ayers was a fisherman. He spent his mornings out on his old raggedy boat which he jokingly named The Ark, filling it with fish to sell at the market. On weekends, Bonnie would wake up early to join him. She was a daddy's girl through and through. Her older sister Leslie spent more time with their mother Virginia (known as Ginny) tending to the garden and the livestock. Noah was a jovial man who loved to make Bonnie laugh. When he'd get a fish on the line, he and Bonnie would make wild guesses about what was on the hook. "This one is definitely a dragon," he would say, and Bonnie would giggle as he pretended to struggle to reel it in.
One day when Bonnie was 10, Noah left to go out on the boat and never came back. A heart attack, they said. Bonnie's own heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of her grief. Leslie, who was 14 at the time, would tell her sister, "You've got to be strong. Crying isn't going to bring him back." She'd place her hands on her hips in a stance that was meant to be assertive but was betrayed by her trembling fingers. Bonnie and Leslie had many arguments due to their lack of understanding of the other's grieving process. It was one of the factors that drove them apart over the years. Today they don't speak.
When Bonnie's son was born, she could think of no other name to give him but Noah. Noah John Ayers. She hoped he would be like his grandfather: strong-willed, happy-go-lucky, and steadfast. But as she glanced at the pillow and stuffed cat still lying on the couch, she knew that wasn't the case. If anything, he was more like her: fearful of abandonment, overly emotional, and impulsive. It was no wonder that the name Noah never resonated with him and he started going by Johnny. A name doesn't overcome nature or nurture, whichever is more forceful in forming a person into who they are. Bonnie hopes her father's nature will bloom in Johnny, replacing the weeds she let grow in him with lucious green leaves.
