Hypocrisy, Part III 
By Georgia

“What about this?”

Kerry is standing in my hallway with the nude woman painting in her hands, eyebrows raised in question.

“You know what? I think that might be pushing it just a little too much.” My voice sounds apologetic, but I can’t help it. I want to come out to my parents, not whack them over the head with the Your Daughter’s a Lesbian two-by-four.

“Good choice.” Kerry smiles and returns the painting to the closet, literally.

She’s been so amazing already. She’s been here for nearly an hour, helping me to return the pieces of my life back where they belong. I did take care of a few things, things that might be a little overwhelming. Some of my videos are a bit…racy. I put those in a cabinet. I also put away my copies of The Advocate and Girlfriends magazine. I need to ease my parents into this, not throw them.

Kerry returns to the living room and leans on her crutch, surveying our handiwork. She nods her approval, smiling at me. “Looks great. Now what?”

I tap my finger against my lips, trying to come up with the best course of action. I am totally clueless. Glancing at Kerry, I notice for the first time that my little redhead looks exhausted, and it suddenly occurs to me that she probably took a very early flight.

“Honey, why don’t you go home for a little while? Unpack, get yourself a shower and a nap and come by for dinner. By then, hopefully I will have most of this crap out in the open, and I’ll be ready to introduce you to Clan Legaspi.”

She looks doubtful for a minute, but I reassure her that I’ll be fine. I’m really not at all certain of my course of action, but I’ve always been rather talented at flying by the seat of my pants, so I’m going to have to rely on that now.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Really. It’s okay.” I wrinkle my nose. “I think I need to get the ball rolling on my own.” I hope she’s not offended by this, but she seems to understand.

She nods, convinced, and gathers her stuff. She gives me a quick kiss on the lips, caressing my cheek with her hand and running her thumb over my bottom lip. “Relax,” she says softly, encouragingly. “You’re going to be fine.”

God, she can see right through me. It amazes me, and sometimes scares the hell out of me. As she turns away, I grasp her arm, stopping her. “Kerry?” She looks at me expectantly. “Thanks.”

That smile of hers is like a giant ray of sunshine breaking through the gray clouds of my anxiety. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

When she’s gone, I take the steps two at a time, ripping off my cleaning sweats as I go, praying I have enough time to don something presentable and run a comb through my rat’s nest before my parents show up on the doorstep of their gay daughter.

Today, I come out to Mom and Dad.

God, am I insane?

The knocking on the door becomes more insistent, but still I sit.

“Kim?”

I hear the voice, but I’m feeling kind of hazy and it’s so far away…

I take another sip from my glass.

The door opens, but I don’t look. I know who it is. I can’t look at her. I can’t face her.

She stands in the foyer, hand still on the doorknob, probably wondering why I’m sitting here in the dark. I don’t care. There’s nothing to see. Why bother with light?

“Kim? Honey, are you okay?”

I don’t answer, just take another sip.

“Where are your parents?” She’s trying to hide the dread in her voice, but it’s there. I hear it.

“Gone.” It’s the first word I’ve spoken in over two hours.

“Gone?” She closes the door and takes off her jacket. I hear her limp across the room, feel her sit beside me, but still I don’t look. I don’t deserve to even glance at her. “Kim, talk to me. What happened?”

“How can you stand to look at me?” The question is out of my mouth before I can catch it, but it’s something that’s been on my mind all afternoon and I need to know.

She flinches, blinking in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Kim, I love you. Why wouldn’t I want to look at you?”

I can feel my heart aching in my chest. God, I’m so selfish! “This could have been you,” I say quietly, so quietly that she has to lean closer to hear me.

“What could have been me, honey? I’m not following you. Help me here.”

I finally turn to face her, and there is so much love and concern in her eyes that it makes my stomach revolt with guilt. I take a deep breath and swallow back the bile that has risen in my throat. “I left you to do this alone, Kerry. I left you to come out to the people you care about all by yourself! How could I do that to you? What kind of a person does that to somebody they love?” My voice cracks.

“Kim, what happened?” Her voice has grown stern, an obvious sign that my emotional state is starting to worry her.

“Oh, Kerry…” I trail off and take another sip. Kerry notices the half-empty wine bottle on the coffee table and gently removes the glass from my hand. She then takes both my hands in hers, rubbing them together affectionately. I’m so cold. I didn’t even realize how cold I am until the warmth of her hands seeps into my skin.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Fucking Christy,” I growl. “Why can’t she learn to keep her mouth shut?”

Kerry wisely refrains from commentary on that one, knowing that neither of us will ever come up with satisfactory answer.

“Seems she mentioned my suspension to her mother a few months ago. My mother ran into Christy’s mother at the grocery store last week and brought it up.” I launch into a terribly snide impression of Christy’s mom, not that Kerry would know it. “‘I was so shocked to hear about Kim’s suspension and firing. Poor girl must have been a mess! I’m so glad it worked out for her, though. Aren’t these tomatoes lovely today?’

My mother’s first reaction, of course, is ‘why didn’t Kim tell me any of this?’ Understandable. Getting sued for sexual harassment is a pretty traumatic affair in one’s career, and I didn’t even give her a phone call.”

Kerry rubs my hands the entire time I’m talking, and it’s incredibly soothing to have her next to me. She hasn’t taken her eyes off my face since I started talking. I lick my suddenly dry lips and continue.

“That’s the reason they came, you know. All the way from freakin’ Texas. They decided that something was just not right if their daughter could go through something that major and not tell them. So the first thing my mother does is blurt this out and wants to know details. Why was I suspended? Why was I fired? What on earth happened? I’m thinking, well, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but here’s a golden opportunity, so I take it. I explain to them that the sexual harassment charges were filed by a female and that she filed them because she was having a sexual identity crisis, and that I tried to help her by telling her that I was also gay. I didn’t stop once I started talking, Kerry. I couldn’t. I was afraid to.” I turn and meet Kerry’s gaze. I am so relieved to see nothing but understanding and support there. “I could see their faces starting to get that look, and I didn’t want them to be able to say anything. I would have just kept talking forever if I could have.”

Kerry nods encouragingly, and I know she gets exactly what I’m saying.

“I went on about Romano and the whole firing thing and that he had fixated on me because of my sexuality, how you threatened to expose his discriminatory history, and how I was reinstated thanks to you.” I lower my voice, my gaze dropping into my lap. “I told them that I was in love with you and that we’d been together for nearly six months now. I told them that you make me happy.”

“And then what?”

“Neither of them said anything for a long time.” I remember the looks on their faces…Mom’s crushed with what looked like loss and a good dose of disappointment. Dad’s was just stony and cold. I feel my eyes well with tears now just as they had then.

“Daddy wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t look at me, Kerry.” The tears spill over as a small sob works its way up from my broken heart. “He never said a thing, and he wouldn’t even look at me.”

Kerry pulls my head down onto her shoulder then, wrapping strong arms around me as I let a few tears leak out. I don’t want to lose it in front of Kerry. I can handle this. I’m strong. 

Aren’t I?

“I’ve spent the last ten years of my life trying to distance myself from my family so that if the truth ever came out, their reactions wouldn’t hurt me.” I swallow hard, the realization sinking in. “It didn’t work.”

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs into my hair.

And then the walls collapse, and I have no choice but to let them. It hurts too much to keep it bottled in any more. The brick wall I quickly erected over the past couple hours to hold the emotional wreckage inside crumble easily and the sorrow and pain come crashing out, like ocean waves. I sob like a child in the arms of my lover, crushed that I’m not as strong and stoic as I like to think. The disillusion on the faces of my parents is something that will be etched into my memory forever, and I cry for the little blonde girl who will never be what her mommy and daddy had hoped.

Throughout my sobs, Kerry’s strong arms hold me and she rocks me, the love she has for me radiating through unmistakably. I think to myself how ironic it is to feel so rejected and so loved at the same time.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, Kerry,” I whisper through my tears. “I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to understand.” She knows what I mean, to what point in our lives I am referring.

“Don’t, Kim. There is nothing to be sorry for,” she says, her voice unwavering as she holds me. “We’re well past that now. We worked through it, and we’re okay.” I feel her press her lips to my head. “I love you, baby. You’ve got to give your parents some time, okay? This is a lot for them to absorb.”

She’s right, and I know it, but it still cuts through me like a scalpel. I bury myself deeper into her body. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whisper.

“Me, too.”

Her arms tighten around me. I’m safe. My heart is breaking, but I’m safe in Kerry’s arms.