Drop and Give Me 50

Chapter 28: The Birds and the Bees

Thanks to an afterschool faculty meeting, practice was cancelled so coach could sit there and pretend to be interested in state testing metrics for the benefit of the principal’s ego.

Brent: Dad? What are you doing home this early?

(Brent’s) Dad: I worked from home today. Corporate changed the in-office policy, and we have a bit more flexibility than we used to. I had a lot of high-concentration work to get off my plate and just decided not to go in.

Brent: Cool. Where’s mom?

Dad: Wine Club. I mean BOOK Club.

Brent: We all have our vices, right?

Dad: Your mother’s scientific research into the social implications of day drinking is hardly a vice. She takes it very seriously. Long story short; we’re batch’n it tonight.

Brent: I’m not ready for dinner, but what do you say we kick off this boys night by going for gelato?

Dad: I’m game. Can you drive. I’ve got a bit of a headache and my eyes are exhausted from looking at spreadsheets all day.

Brent: Sure. Let’s go.

We settled in at an outside table away from the fray. Dad opted for sorbet due to “not needing the calories.” I went for the double scoop of mint chocolate chip and salted caramel.

Dad: We never do this. Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice. I’m glad you suggested it. But what’s up?

Brent: Well, I’ve got what I hope you consider good news. And, then, I have a favor to ask.

Dad: Sounds ominous.

Brent: OK. Here goes. You and mom met in high school. You started dating when you were 16. I’m 18. I’ve never dated anyone. I’ve kinda started to feel a little left out of the whole adolescent love thang.

Dad: This sounds like a birds and bees talk.

Brent: Yeah. Kinda. But in reverse I suppose. I think it’s my turn to make you feel awkward.

Dad let out a nervous laugh while staring at his melting sorbet.

Dad: You weren’t the only one who felt awkward when we had that chat.

Brent: I know. But you get points for being enthusiastic. You talked about how great those feelings were and how excited you were when you started dating mom. You gave it the hard sell. And I was certainly ready to sign up. But I never recognized those same feelings. I was just waiting for the magic light switch to flip, and it just never did.

Dad: Don’t worry. It will happen in time. You just have to be patient.

Brent: Dad. I’m 18. My patience is up.

Dad: Well, you’ve dated.

Brent: Taking a girl to the dance is an obligatory social norm, not dating.

Dad: Your mother and I have noticed. When we were your age, we were already planning on running off to college together. We weren’t engaged, but we knew that’s where things were heading. I don’t want you to miss out or anything, but I’m also glad you aren’t closing off your options so early like I did.

Brent: Do you regret falling in love so young?

Dad: No. Because it meant I got to marry your mother. But we were young and naïve. We were just living the fairytale. We had not been out in the world at that point, and we had already swallowed the hook before we ever saw what was above the water. We were in love, and that’s all we knew. It wasn’t a mistake but if I had my druthers, I would wish you a bit more experience before you bite the hook.

Brent: I know you have a text mirror on my phone. You’re good at this game, but mom’s not. There have been times when she had information that could have only come from reading my text. I never let on, but mom spoiled the surprise on that ankle bracelet fairly quickly. Sadly, there hasn’t been too much to discover.

Dad: Well, you’re right about that. Your mother still reads them, but I lost interest. You’re not going to star in the sequel to “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” that’s for sure. If your mother’s parents had any idea what we were doing when we were your age, she would have been sent to a nunnery.

Brent: So, you and mom were having sex?

Dad: We may be getting into TMI territory. But no, not technically. I mean, not full-on intercourse, but pretty much everything else. We had been dating seriously for two years. A lot happens for horny teenagers over the course of two years.

Brent: What I’m about to tell you will likely make you angry. And, I’ll confess, it’s a violation of your privacy. But in my search for answers, I found your porn stash.

Dad: Oh Lord! That’s embarrassing.

Brent: Some of them are certainly embarrassing. Especially, some of the new ones.

Dad: There was a sale. I went a bit crazy. What can I say?

Brent: That mom knows all your online passwords, and you can’t watch porn online.

Dad: She would die if she knew I watched porn.

Brent: She’s getting drunk on rosé and discussing the complexities of the literary allusions in “Fifty Shades of Grey” right now.

Dad: How did you find it?

Brent: I came home one night to find mom crying, and she told me all about it. NO NO NO. Wait! I’m joking. Bad joke. Don’t have a coronary.

Dad: Soooo, not funny.

Brent: It was an accident. I was looking for tools for my science project and found the box out in the shed. Mom never goes out there. So, you hid them well. Except, of course, when your son has science-fair blue-ribbon ambitions.

Dad: Did you learn anything?

Brent: Actually, yes.

Dad: Good. . . .I guess. I’m afraid to ask what porn taught you.

Brent: Mainly that there is nothing wrong with my sex drive. Everything’s in working order.

Dad: Good to hear. But you know, that’s not what sex is really like.

Brent: Oh, I get it. It’s just acting. Bad acting mostly.

Dad: Well, that’s also not how a healthy relationship works.

Brent: Says the man who hides his porn stash from his wife and keeps the internet search history of an angel.

Dad: Well, the spice level can plummet over the decades. I love your mom, but after we had you, the spigot was mostly turned off.

Brent: You’re barely 40. Isn’t it a bit early for that?

Dad: Now, we have certainly hit TMI territory. OK. So, you watched my porn. That’s fairly normal for an 18-year-old. I mean, if you wanted to rent it, you have the legal right to do so.

Brent: Nobody rents DVDs anymore. I think we are the only home I know of that still has a DVD player in the house. Everyone else has moved on to streaming.

Dad: I’m old school. What can I say? But you need to get out there and date. DVDs are just fantasy. You’re an incredible young man. You need to feel the rush of a real relationship.

Brent: You’re right. And I have. I mean I am.

Dad: Oh, that’s news. Who is she?

Brent: Tim. My friend from the baseball team. (Author’s note: Yes, I finally gave the narrator a name.)

Dad: Wow. OK. I’m a bit stunned. But that’s good news, right?

Brent: Very good news. We are very happy together. All those wonderful feelings you told me about that I didn’t understand. Well, I do now. He makes me feel that way.

Dad: How long has this been going on?

Brent: Like officially, as boyfriends? Since two days ago. We weren’t planning on coming out, but a weird sequence of events got triggered yesterday, and Tim ended up coming out to his parents, and in doing so, inadvertently outed me to them as well. He seemed so relieved and happy. And, here we are.

Dad: I thought it was just Tim’s mother.

Brent: Well, that’s the whole big deal. Tim never asked about his dad until yesterday. Seems weird to me that the question never occurred to him. His parents had some iron-clad divorce agreement that Tim’s dad wouldn’t contact him until Tim requested him to do so.

Dad: That’s messed up. Tim’s 18. He’s never talked to his dad?

Brent: Oh, it gets worse. His dad had never even SEEN him until a zoom call last night. The divorce was finalized two months before Tim was born.

Dad: What would cause him to not have any sort of visitation rights? Even dads in prison get visitation.

Brent: Tim’s dad is gay. It was a big deal. Everyone freaked out. The courts took a dim view of gay fatherhood. And from what I can tell, neither of them expected Tim to take this long to ask. I don’t know much more. But you are right. That’s pretty fucked up.

Dad: Roll the tape back. You and Tim become boyfriends on Sunday. Tim talks to his dad for the first time ever on Monday and finds out he’s gay.

Brent: And living in San Francisco and married to a man named Charles and they have a dog named Jake.

Dad: And the dog’s gay too?

Brent: (busting out laughing) Unconfirmed, but I suspect so! Tim’s very close to his mom. When all this came out about his dad on the call, Tim took it as a sign, and came out to his dad. When he went downstairs to tell his mom how the call went, he told her as well. He said he couldn’t keep it from her at that point, which is understandable. When he called me afterwards, he sounded like a weight was lifted.

Dad: Good for him. And quite frankly, good for you. I’m glad you told me. It may not have been what I was assuming, but at least I can get over my fears that you are as boring as your text messages make you seem.

Brent: Yeah, about that. That favor I wanted to ask you about. How about we go to T-Mobile and get me a new phone. You know, one where I’m there and get to set the password without you looking. I would like to be able to text my boyfriend without mom having a meltdown.

Dad: You’re 18. I think you deserve a little privacy. But you’re going to have to promise me two things. One, that you are going to tell mom tonight. I’m not going to steal your thunder, but I’m not going to keep this from her either. And second, you have to swear you will never utter a word about the big box of porn in the tool shed.

Brent: Deal.

I managed to eat the entirety of my double gelato while dad just sat there in shock and let his sorbet melt. We went to T-Mobile and got me a new phone and some sorely needed privacy. We ordered a pizza for pick up and headed home. I filled dad in on the g-rated parts of my relationship with Tim. He seemed genuinely interested, and the more we talked, the more comfortable he seemed to be with the situation.

(Brent’s) Mom: I see the bachelors took the easy route and ordered a pizza.

Brent: Welcome home. How was book club?

Mom: Dear god. This book was a snoozefest. What a pretentious load of crap wrapped in literary mumbo-jumbo. One of the greatest authors of our time my ass. Sorry about my language. I’ve had a little bit to drink. Hence the Uber.

Brent: Glad to see you don’t book club and drive.

Mom: What is that in your hand? It’s a school night.

Dad: I let him have it. Blame me. Here. Sit down. Now that you’re home safe and sound, you might want a drink too.

Mom: Why’s that?

Brent: Mom, I’m dating someone very special.

Mom: Oh honey, that’s wonderful.

Dad: Stop. Wait. Let him finish. Trust me on this one. (pulling his fingers across his lips as if to zip them)

Brent: I think you know Tim from the baseball team?

Mom: Center field, right?

Brent: You pay closer attention than I thought.

Mom: Oh honey, I pay attention to everything.

Brent: Yes, mom, I realize that. We can circle back to that issue later. Well, Tim and I are boyfriends. I’m gay.

Mom: Boy can you pick ‘um. He’s a looker.

Brent: That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

Mom: You never dated girls. Your father and I were just counting the days until this happened. I mean look at you. You’re a hunk.

Brent: Uh, thanks, I guess.

Mom: When your father and I were your age, we are already plotting our escape to college together. I figured you were doing some sorting out. It all makes perfect sense. A mother always knows.

Brent: Well, that was tidy.

Mom: And I think I will have that drink. And that’s your last one for today bucko. I don’t care what your father says.

Brent: And in other news, I got a new phone.

Mom: Why’d ya do that? What was wrong with your old one?

Brent: I thought my text messages were boring you.

Mom: It was your father’s idea. And yes, they were boring me. So, just as the storyline starts to pick up, I get cut off. Just my luck.

Brent: I’ll fill you in occasionally. But I’m 18. I think a little privacy is in order.

Mom: I shudder to think what my parents would have done if they knew what your father and I were up to back then.

Brent: (hands over ears, eyes shut, head shaking side-to-side) I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you.

Mom: Seriously, I’m happy for you. We’re happy for you. Does Tim’s mom know?

Brent: Yes.

Mom: So, really? Your mom’s the last in line? Gee thanks!

Dad: He saved the best for last.

Mom: You know I’m being sarcastic, right?

Brent: Honestly, I wasn’t planning on doing this. And no, I actually had no idea how this would play out. I’m pleased, but a little surprised. It all became official this weekend. So, it’s not like this has been held back for a long time. I’ve barely had time to get used to the idea myself. But I’m glad I don’t have to sort it all out alone.

Mom: Of course not. We’re your parents. We know a thing or two. We’re here for you.

Brent: That’s a relief. Since the head bartender has cut me off and it’s a school night, I think I’m going to call Tim and get some sleep.

Dad: Say hello for us.

Brent: OK. This is already getting weird. But yeah, sure. Goodnight.

Me (Narrator Tim): (answering the phone) I think I’m going to pass out.

Brent: Why’s that?

Me: Getting ready for my appointment with Dr. Grant tomorrow. I’m not to 50. But very close.

Brent: Save some for me, please!

Me: Always. So, what’s up?

Brent: When it rains, it pours. I came out to my folks tonight.

Me: No shit!

Brent: Better yet. In exchange for not outing my dad about his porn stash, I got a new phone that my parents can’t access. So, we are clear to text each other now.

Me: You admitted to your dad that you watched his porn?

Brent: Leverage.

Me: Wow. Your balls are big, but even so, that was gutsy. Are they OK with it?

Brent: Shockingly, yes. Due to the mundane nature of my text messages, they thought I was boring or at least devoid of emotion. My dad had stopped reading them because he lost interest. I think they were just glad to know I wasn’t a eunuch. And my mom thinks you are a “Looker.” She claims she knew, not about you, but about me being gay. Maybe she did. But yeah, they not only seem OK with it, they seem relieved. In my conversation with my dad, I learned just a wee bit too much about my parents’ courtship and marriage. Let’s just say it was an evening of sharing, awkward sharing.

Me: A week ago, I don’t think I could have even imagined this conversation.

Brent: Me either. It still seems somewhat unreal. Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Me: At this point, who cares if it does? But let’s slow the train down a bit and just catch our breath.

Brent: OK.

Me: I meet with Dr. Grant tomorrow. He has been great with advice. Let me probe him for some wisdom, and we can go from there.

Brent: I’d like to probe him for more than wisdom.

Me: Stop it. You’re being nasty. He’s my doctor. My healthcare professional.

Brent: Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Me: I can’t wait to be alone with you again.

Brent: Me too. It’s been a year packed into four days.

Me: A very good four days. Luv ya.

Brent: I love you too. Goodnight.