"So," Antoine Radson began hesitantly as he slid into the passenger seat of Preston's car, "how have your parents been taking it?"
Preston didn't need to ask what it was. Slightly more than a month had gone by since he'd confessed his not-so-hetero sexuality to his parents over Christmas dinner. Ironically, it hadn't made the dinner any more awkward than usual, at least not for Preston.
Admittedly, it had caught Antoine completely off-guard when Preston referred to his housemate as his boyfriend; a statement Preston later retracted on the ride home. It had been a remark made more for shock value than anything else. Unfortunately it hadn't worked on the intended targets.
Preston pulled his car out of his parking spot at the Plateau City nuclear plant.
"Well, I've spoken to them a few times since," he admitted as he navigated the familiar route home. "My dad? He's completely denying everything. It's like that whole conversation doesn't exist for him. My mom's alternating between crying and wanting to know more about you. I think she's coming around."
Antoine picked at a loose thread at the cuff of his worn Carhartt jacket. He didn't look at Preston. "Are you going to tell her I'm not your boyfriend?"
Preston gripped the steering wheel tighter, leather gloves squeaking slightly.
"Because," Antoine continued, still tugging at the thread, "I'm not, you know. And it's not really right to lie about it."
Ahead the light turned red.
Preston braked, a bit harder than he had to.
Antoine felt his body suddenly caught by the seat belt. He gave Preston a reproachful look.
Preston turned, facing Antoine for a moment. "Yes, Antoine. I know, Antoine! You don't hesitate to remind me of that fact."
Antoine held up his hands, placatingly.
The light turned green. The car began moving again.
"I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Antoine muttered, looking down at his frayed jacket. "I… I dunno."
Preston made a sound of disgust, or possibly just annoyance. It was hard to tell.
"Your mom's pretty upset about this…" Antoine began, trying to redirect the focus off himself.
"Yes, she is."
"Do you know why?"
"Because it's not what she wanted."
Antoine tucked his hands up sleeves. "It's more than just you, you know. And I don't mean me. Because you keep telling me how your mom always wanted grandkids. And you're the only child. It's not like she's just sad your gay. She's gotta come to grips with an entire future she'll never have. Death of a family dream. That's hard. It's real mourning, even if the grandkids weren't real."
Preston coasted into their rural subdivision that backed up to the pine barrens.
"What would you know about that?" Preston asked, his voice a bit sharper than usual.
Antoine patted Preston's thigh as the pulled into the garage.
"I was in the system, remember? When I was little, I kept expecting that my real family would just show up; or, if not them, then my dream family would show up and adopt me. Like in Pete's Dragon, or Stewart Little. That somewhere out there was the perfect family just waiting for a kid like me. All the movies said so, right?" Antoine gave Preston's leg a squeeze before letting go. He opened the car door and stepped out.
Antoine regarded the night air thoughtfully for a second, then he turned and rested an arm on the roof of the car. He lowered his head and leaned in, staring levelly at Preston. "That 'perfect family' thing never happened. I got bounced around a lot, and by the time I was thirteen I knew it was never going to happen, so I stopped hoping for it. The dream of having a mom and a dad, brothers and sisters? That died. So, yeah, Preppy, I know all about death of a dream. Believe me."
Antoine straightened up, shutting the car door.
Preston sat there for a few moments, watching Antoine amble into the house. Antoine rarely talked about his childhood, and Preston never asked. From time to time, Antoine would talk about this or that, little glimpses into his past that revealed remarkably little. He'd had a family once, Preston knew, that he'd hoped would become his forever-family. His foster father had been a helicopter pilot, and would take Antoine flying with him.
That, Preston knew, was where Antoine's passion for flying had come from. It was a pivotal event in young Antoine's life that set him down the road to becoming a pilot himself, and eventually a certified instructor.
Preston grabbed his briefcase and followed Antoine into the house.
"Am I being selfish?" he asked as he set it on the kitchen table.
"Maybe," replied Antoine's voice from the bedroom.
"I guess I just wanted… something from telling them," Preston confessed, following Antoine's voice. His housemate was changing out of his work clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Antoine had little sense of modesty. Still, Preston kept his eyes on the carpet while Antoine dressed.
"What did you want? A parade or something?" Antoine replied back as he pulled the shirt over his head and let his hair down. He ran his fingers through his teal mane and shook it out.
Preston said nothing.
"The fact that you're still talking to your parents as much as ever, that's a good thing," Antoine remarked as he stepped around Preston and padded into the kitchen. "If they haven't cut you off now, they're not gonna. But you've had, I dunno, however long you've had to figure out your whole 'gayness.'" Antoine grabbed a can of cola from the fridge and opened it with a satisfying pop.
Preston followed and sat down at the breakfast bar. He loosened his tie.
Antoine offered him a Coke-a-Cola, which he accepted.
"You figured out you were gay, what, early twenties or something?"
Preston ran his fingers around the can. He drew a scribble in the condensation, then wiped it away. "Teens, actually."
Antoine leaned on the counter. "Right. So, what, like a decade or something. And you're expecting them to get with the program in a month?" Antoine took a sip of his cola. "Yeah, you are being selfish. You want me to be your boyfriend, and you want your parents to be all happy about your sexuality. Well…" Antoine paused and took another sip. "Sometimes you just gotta accept things as they are, you know? Give things time. I mean, I think we've got a pretty good thing here. I'm happy."
Preston started to say something, then shut his mouth. He looked down at the counter. A small pool of water was forming under the cold can. He moved it, leaving a circular puddle on the granite. He felt Antoine's thick hand on his head, Antoine's fingers ruffling through his hair. A familiar, affectionate gesture.
"Don't get all mopey, Prep. They're your family, they love you. Give,'em time, right?"
Preston looked up. He couldn't help but smile. Antoine had this way of making him feel better. Do you love me? Preston almost asked, but thought better of it. Though the question burned against the inside of his lips, he couldn't risk letting it out. This wasn't the time to ask that. Perhaps later, perhaps never; definitely not now.
He let Antoine continue to stroke his hair.
"For someone who claims he never had a family, you seem to have a good understand of what it means to be in one."
Antoine cupped the back of Preston's neck in his warm, rough palm. "I had plenty of chances to see what family could be. And a lot of time to dream about it. So maybe I don't know from my own experience exactly, but yeah, I know what it should be like. Every family's a little dysfunctional. But your parents care. Give them time, okay?"
Preston reached up, wrapping his hand over Antoine's. He smirked. "Are we 'dysfunctional?'" he teased.
Antoine laughed. "Preppy, I put the fun in dysfunctional. Heck, dysfunctional's practically my middle name." He smiled toothily, that familiar devil-may-care grin that Preston found more than a little reckless.
"I know that's not your middle name."
"Oh yeah?"
Preston nodded. "Your middle name starts with an 'E.'"
Antoine looked momentarily caught off guard. "How'd you know that?"
Preston gave as innocent a shrug as he could. "I saw the monogram on your cufflinks. Are you going to tell me what it is?"
Antoine shook his head, smiling, but tight-lipped. "Nope! Not at all."
Preston ran his fingers along the sides of the pop can. "Never?" he asked. He tilted his head, feeling flirtatious, and trying not to show it.
Antoine pursed his lips, and ran a hand over his beard with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Maybe someday," he intoned, expression coy. "You know, when I feel like it."
Preston raised his eyebrows. "And until then?"
Antoine winked. "Give it time, Preppy. Give it time."