Burned Bridges Chapter 1
Jill's POV
'Randy, I'm going to call your father down at the hardware store and let him know that he needs to come home early tonight' I say once we're in the car.
'Hello, Taylor Hardware, Tim speaking, how may I help you?' Tim answers.
'Tim, it's me' I greet.
'Hey Jill. What's the matter?' he asks, since he knows I don't hardly ever call him at work.
'You need to come home early tonight. Get Al to cover for you. I have a little surprise for you' I say, starting to cry once again.
'Okay, uh…I'll see what I can do, but I can't guarantee I'll be home before 7:00. We've been swamped all day, and as a matter of fact, we still are. I gotta go now. Bye' Tim says.
'Bye' I simply say. That's it as far as our phone conversations (and regular ones for that matter) go anymore. No I love you, no can't wait to see you later. It's almost like we're brother and sister.
Randy's POV
'Your dad is going to be so glad to see you' mom tells me.
'Are you sure? I mean, like this? He'll probably have a fit; that is if he even recognizes me, which I guess is kind of the purpose of all of this. Well, it was, until this is who I became' I say, giving my voice a real workout now. I haven't talked this much in one hour in years.
'Randy, no matter what clothes you may wear, or what color your hair may be, or how long your nails are, your father and I will always love you' mom tells me, letting her mothering instinct get the best of her. Not that I'm complaining. It feels good to have someone actually give a damn for a change. Too bad that wasn't the case six years ago.
'In that case, I want you and dad to meet the person I've been seeing for the past couple of years' I say.
'Well sure! We'd love to meet the girl you've been seeing' mom says with a big smile. It appears as if she wants to say more, but doesn't.
'So, what are Brad and Mark up to?' I ask, with my voice fading out towards the end of the sentence.
'Well, Brad is a soccer coach, since he hurt his knee when you was over in Costa Rica' mom begins. I flinch at the words "Costa Rica".
'And Mark is attending a prestigious film school in Oregon' she explains. I don't flinch at the word "Oregon".
'What about Dad? What ever happened to Tool Time?' I inquire.
'Tool Time ended back in 2002. Some big tool conglomerate bought out Binford, and they just up and cancelled Tool Time' she says, still sounding a little bitter about the whole ordeal.
After that, we ride in silence for a few minutes.
'How's Wilson doing?' I ask out of the blue.
'Honey, Wilson passed away from lung cancer three years ago this December' mom says, looking sadder by the minute. Note to self: Try not to dredge up old memories and don't mention dead people who you didn't know were dead.
'Oh my God. That's horrible. Who does dad go to for advice then?' I ask, perhaps toeing the line a bit closely with the last remark.
'He doesn't go to anybody anymore. Let me warn you though, your father has went through some changes of his own over the past six years' she warns.
'Really? How?' I ask, smiling at the thought of him changing like me. I mean, I'm sure he hasn't changed his appearance like I have (although I would pay a lot of money to see him with bright pink hair and black lipstick).
'Well, he's put on a good twenty pounds at the very least' she says, laughing.
The rest of the car ride passes by in silence, with some thanks going to the radio station we're listening to for playing back to back Eric Stuart songs. (I absolutely love Eric Stuart).
We walk into the same garage that I last saw six years ago. Everything looks the same, right down to an old, rusted hotrod frame in the garage.
When we walk into the actual house, I can immediately see some changes. We have new chairs, a new dinette set, and new carpeting.
'Wow, everything looks different' I say, absorbing all of both the familiar and unfamiliar scenery.
'Did dad say what time he'd be home?' I ask.
'He said it'd be around 7 or so' mom answers.
'Can I go ahead and call the person I'm seeing and have them come over around seven thirty?' I ask.
'Yeah, I can make them dinner' mom volunteers.
'Hey, I've learned how to actually cook some decent meals now that you boys are out of the house and all your father does is work at the hardware store or on that damn hotrod of his' mom says when she says the weary look on my face.
'Yeah, you're about twenty five years too late' I joke. God it feels good to be joking again. Out on the streets with the whores, scum, pimps, and just assholes in general, there's nothing to joke about.
I walk over to where the phone is…strike that; was.
'Hey mom, where's the phone at?' I ask.
'Oh, we just have the one behind the couch now' she says.
I walk over to the phone, and dial the number of Pat's cell phone.
'Yeah' answers Pat.
'Hey Pat, it's Randy. Could you come by my house around seven thirty? I want you to meet my parents' I say.
'Do they know?' asks Pat.
'No, they don't know anything about you and your past' I answer.
'Okay. I'll be there at seven thirty then' Pat replies.
7:30 PM That Evening
Randy's POV
'Mom, dad, this is Pat' I say before I open the door.
'What?!' shouts dad as soon as he sees.
'No! Absolutely not! Not my son! No way! I'll accept the fact that you want to run around looking like some punk drummer from a grunge band, but this is too much. Too damn much. I will not allow my own son to date another man!' he yells, in a tirade now.
A/N: Wow! What a shocker!
I just want to make a few things clear right now:
1. I do not believe that Jonathan Taylor Thomas is gay.
2. I do not think there is anything wrong with being homosexual or bisexual. I'm not saying that you have to feel that way to read this story, or that you can't have your opinion. This is just my opinion.
3. There will be many, many more references to homosexuality, and at times in derogatory terms, so if that kind of thing offends you, then either please don't read this, or if you do, don't flame me. I'm only using the terms for artistic purposes, not because I think they're cool or make me feel macho or some BS like that.
4. I hope I don't lose any (or at least too many) readers (for this story as well as the rest of my stories) over this chapter and its contents.
5. It is not my intention to offend anyone with this story, or any of my stories.
6. Honestly, it took a lot of balls on my part to even post this. I've spent the past three days debating over whether or not I ought to rewrite this chapter. I hope I've made the right decision not to.
So, please R&R if you want to see Jill's point of view on Randy's coming out to them.
Thanks for reading, and like I said before, if you are offended by homosexuality or references to it, then please don't flame me.
I ask you to also please not judge this story based on its references to homosexuality, judge it the way you do my other stories. (However that may be) :)
-Yours truly, Randy Taylor
