Two Disappointments
Zac was glad that Taylor left early the next morning for his shift at the mall. It meant the two of them didn’t have a chance to rehash the horror the day would hold for Zac.
Maybe horror was an exaggeration. But maybe not.
He really didn’t know what to expect, but he knew he had no choice but to meet with his parents. There was an IHOP next to their hotel, according to the text from his mother that seemed far too friendly considering how icy she had been the night before, and he didn’t waste time making his way there to meet them. The longer he dwelt, the easier it would be to convince himself not to show up at all.
The restaurant was busy at that time of day, but Zac was still easily able to find his parents’ table. His dad was nursing a cup of coffee, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, and his mother was talking quietly—until she spotted Zac. The hint of a smile at whatever she had been talking about left her lips entirely, and they set themselves in a straight line even as she stood up to give Zac a hug. He wondered if she knew how easily her expression gave away how she really felt.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said as she motioned for him to sit, “we went ahead and ordered for you—the blueberry pancakes, right?”
Zac nodded, but he honestly couldn’t remember the last time that had been his order. The contrast between that and how well Taylor remembered every single one of Zac’s preferences was not lost on him, and it made his stomach turn. It wouldn’t matter what his parents had ordered; he wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite.
He had hoped his parents would wait until they had eaten to begin the interrogation, but he knew he would have no such luck when his father placed his coffee cup decisively on the table and gave him a hard stare.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” Zac said, and that was the truth. As much as he had tried to prepare himself for this, he had no explanation that they would accept for why Taylor was back in his life.
“You could begin with why you’ve been lying to us,” Diana suggested.
“I haven’t lied,” Zac replied instinctively. In spite of his parents’ twin skeptical expressions, he continued, “Lied by omission, maybe. Because okay, I didn’t tell you that Taylor was here in Austin. You didn’t ask, and it wasn’t exactly something I could just bring up in a normal conversation.”
“That is a distinction without a difference and you know it,” Diana replied.
“Don’t you think we needed to know about this?” Walker asked, his tone only slightly more reasonable than his wife’s.
Zac shrugged helplessly. “We’re both adults now. I didn’t think you would like it, but no, I didn’t think you actually needed to know.”
“We are still your parents, and yes, we are allowed to have an opinion on you choosing to associate with—with—”
Zac held up a hand before his mother could finish that sentence. He didn’t want to know what word she might have chosen, particularly considering the fact that it likely would have applied to him, too. “And what would you have said or done if I told you? Forbidden me to see him like I was still a teenager under your control? Actually, I don’t want to know your answer to that, either.”
“Good. I don’t think you would like that answer very much,” Diana nearly spat out.
Walker placed a hand on her arm as the waitress approached with their food. The three of them remained silent until she had departed. Zac couldn’t even bear to look at his pancakes.
Diana took a few timid bites of her crepes before looking back up at Zac. “While you are legally an adult, you are still our son. We care about you, and we are allowed to have an opinion about the decisions you make. And if we think those decisions are poor, then yes, we are allowed to tell you that and try to steer you in a better direction.”
On the surface, Zac knew that what she said was true and reasonable. He didn’t really feel like an adult most of the time, certainly not one capable of making good choices and handling his life well. But there was one aspect of what his mother had said that made him feel like the lump in his stomach had turned into a black hole.
“Taylor is still your son, too,” Zac said weakly, his voice so low that he wasn’t sure his parents would even hear what he had said.
“Taylor made his bed years ago,” Diana replied, her tone so icy that it almost shocked Zac.
“He wasn’t even eighteen yet,” Zac shot back. “At least you waited until he was to officially kick him out, but you know as well as I do that that’s what it was. He didn’t leave of his own free will, just go off to college and never come back. He didn’t. You know he didn’t.”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Diana said. She looked as though she wanted to say more, then gave a slight head shake and went back to her crepe.
“Look, son,” Walker began, “the lifestyle your brother chose—he knew it was incompatible with our beliefs, with what should have been his beliefs, too. He knew what he had to do to be a part of our family, and he wasn’t willing to do that.”
“What, be someone he wasn’t?” Zac asked, then shook his head. “I didn’t come here to argue religion with you. If you want to believe that being gay is something Taylor could just… could just choose to turn on or off, then I don’t know what to tell you. The fact that you would ask that of him is almost worse than just disowning him. Even if you can’t accept it, just let him be who he is.”
“You’re right,” Walker said. “We didn’t come here to talk about religion, either. We came here to talk about the bad choices we think you’re making and what we’re going to do about those.”
“How did this even happen, Zachary?” Diana asked, her tone somewhere between judgmental and desperate. “How did he find you? Why would you let him into your life now, after all this time?”
Zac took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I never wanted him out of my life. That was a choice you made for me, without my input. You can say it was Taylor’s choice all you want, but you backed him against a wall and forced him to make an impossible decision. And I don’t blame him at all for what he did, but I lost my brother because of it. There hasn’t been a moment, in all that time, that I haven’t wanted him back, but you erased all trace of him. I had no clue where to look. It was just coincidence—fate, maybe—that we both ended up here and stumbled upon each other.”
There were a few details omitted from that version of the truth, Zac supposed, but it was the truth.
“So you approve of his lifestyle?” Walker asked.
“Does it matter? He’s my brother. I love him.” Zac found himself choked up at the last sentence, and he hoped that didn’t reveal more than he wanted it to. Could it possibly, though? Was there any way his parents could possibly guess the true nature of his relationship with Taylor? Surely not.
“As long as we’re supporting you financially, helping you with grad school, then yes. It matters whether or not you are living the sort of life we can support.” Walker stared him down, his eyes narrowed slightly.
This was it. This was his escape route, the loophole his parents wouldn’t see coming. It was also, he knew, the end of his relationship with them.
“Then you’ll be glad to know that I dropped out yesterday. I’ll finish this semester out, but after that, I’m not your burden any longer. I’ll find a way to support myself, and you can find a way to explain to all of your church friends that you raised not one but two disappointments.”
Diana’s eyes widened. “So you’re choosing to support him—over us.”
“No,” Zac replied, shaking his head and standing up. “I’m not choosing anything. Just like you did to Taylor, you’re not giving me any options. You think you are, but you’re not. I love him. That’s something I can’t change. And I love you guys too–you’re still my parents, no matter what. But Taylor needs me. He needs someone in his life who will love him unconditionally, like a family should. I can’t choose not to feel that way, not to act on it. So I’m sorry, but yes, I suppose from where you sit—I’m choosing him over you. I’m sorry.”
Zac stood up and walked away before they could respond to that. There was no point in hanging around; they wouldn’t convince him to turn back to them and abandon Taylor. He knew they might never forgive him for this, but he also knew it was the right choice.
Choice. As if he or Taylor had ever had one. As if they could turn their feelings on or off at will, just because they went against what their parents’ religion taught. The only religion Zac knew taught forgiveness and acceptance—not how to abandon your sons because they happen not to believe that homosexuality is a sin.
Zac suddenly found himself leaning against his car, not even remembering having walked out of the restaurant. He shook his head. The man and woman he had just walked out on bore no resemblance to the parents he thought loved and supported him. They were so callous and so cold. It wasn’t such a loss to cut them out of his life, he decided.
He threw open the car door and sank down into his seat. He might regret this decision later, Zac thought to himself. Maybe. But for right then, it felt as though the last remaining weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Like the anchor had been untied and he could finally swim back to the surface.
He started his car and headed back to campus, deciding that he would spend the rest of the day in the studio, finishing a few pieces he hoped the museum would buy. That would keep his mind occupied so that he wouldn’t have time to think about what he had just done.