Chapter 15
On the way home, Jonathan mentioned he thought he might like to go to “Our Place” for his graduation dinner instead of the restaurant we had planned.
“I think Gabby would really like it, don’t you?”
I had no objection to changing our plans; it was such a unique place! But after the exchange I had seen, I wondered if he was hoping to see R.J. again…
Jonathan chose not to go to the beach with us, so I dropped him off at home before Andrea and I went on our way. The atmosphere in the car was rather strained between the two of them; in fact, Jonathan avoided direct conversation with Andrea. Although she had been enthusiastic about my suggestion, I’m not sure she really wanted to go to the beach with just me, but she wasn’t comfortable with Jonathan at the moment. As he got out of the car, he said not to worry if he wasn’t home when we got back.
Andrea burst out crying as we pulled away from the house. “I don’t know what I’m crying about, Mrs. J. It’s not like we had a fight, or that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t even feel that way about Jonathan. He’s just my good friend, like my brother, really, and I just don’t understand what’s going on tonight. First, he and that waiter ignored me, and now he didn’t even speak to me in the car!”
“It sounds like he made you feel left out,” I began. “And from what you’ve told me, you haven’t felt like you’ve belonged any place until you showed up here Sunday morning.”
“That’s true.” She dabbed at the tears with the tissue I gave her. “Since I’ve been here, it’s been wonderful to be with people who seem to care about me. But now I’m feeling…not cared about again.” She said that with a very sad edge to her voice.
I told her I knew Jonathan cared about her. I thought as soon as she made some friends, or renewed acquaintances she knew here, she wouldn’t feel Jonathan was the only one. And the mother in me pointed out to her that it might be a lot of pressure for Jonathan to be the only one in her life…After I said that, the rest of the ride to the beach was quiet.
Because school wasn’t out for the summer yet, the beach wasn’t too crowded. Once it was truly summer time, it was packed. I was able to get a parking space on the street right closest to the water. It was not quite sunset, and as we walked onto the sand, I stopped to take off my sandals.
Andrea’s mood had begun to mellow and she giggled, and followed suit, saying, “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a barefoot on the beach type, Mrs. J.”
“I’m just being practical, really. Sometimes I come here and walk during my lunch hour, and I’ve discovered that sand isn’t that easy to walk on…let’s get a little closer to the water where the ground is firmer.”
As we walked, we passed a few others taking an evening stroll. There was a family with a little boy trying to fly a kite, and a young couple holding hands. There were a few people sitting on the sand, too, and just as we walked by two men, one gently reached over and hugged the other one. It was clearly more than a friendly hug.
Andrea looked at me to see my reaction, but I had none. “Doesn’t that bother you, Mrs. J.?”
“Doesn’t what bother me?”
She looked back at the couple, nodding at them. “That. The gay couple scene.”
“Andrea, why should it bother me?”
“You are surprising me, Mrs. J,” she said. “Most people from your generation think that gays and lesbians should stay in the closet, like back in your day. I couldn’t help notice there were several couples at the restaurant.”
I giggled when she said back in my day, and without even thinking, I said, “Andrea, back in my day they didn’t all stay in the closet. Why, don’t you remember our family friend, Patrick?” To myself, I wondered if I should have said that much. Would one thing lead to another? If I told her about Patrick, should I tell her about Bob and Marshall? How much telling was fair to Jonathan?
She thought for a minute and said, “The actor guy? That good-looking guy? No way - you’re telling me he’s…..” She stopped, because she could tell that was exactly what I was telling her. Before she could say anything, I started telling her the whole story of how Jonathan’s dad and I had met through Patrick, and I finished by saying, “So you see, not everyone stayed in the closet way back then.” I tried to add some levity with that, but for a long time, Andrea didn’t say anything. We turned around and started heading back to the car; it was not dark yet but the sun was setting as an orange ball in the sky. We passed the same gay couple, and now they were holding hands and enjoying the beautiful view. Andrea could not take her eyes off them. Finally I poked her.
It startled her, and she started to talk to me again. “Mrs. J., all my life I heard that such negative things about gays from my dad. My mom always jumped on his case about it, asking him who gave him the right to judge. It was one of the million things they disagreed about. I guess my dad…he’s a real homophobe. I always thought it was his generation, your generation, and that Mom was just disagreeing with him because they seemed to disagree about everything. But after hearing you tonight…” She trailed off, obviously thinking some more. I worried that I had backed myself into somewhat of a corner…but I did not want to say anything else. When would I tell her about Marshall? She hadn’t met Bob yet. Had I told her too much already by discussing Patrick, and would it cause a problem with Jonathan? Even more than that, would he be upset with me that I had discussed this with her?
When we got to the car, we hadn’t spoken for several minutes, each of us deep in our own thoughts. “I’m thinking about the comment I made back at the restaurant,” Andrea said.
“About the waiter being gay?” I asked. I felt myself flush from the anxiety caused by the direction the conversation was taking, fully aware that I was treading on very thin ice now. I definitely did not want to talk about Jonathan, not now anyway. We each got into the car, and I began to drive home.
“I guess I need to watch those kinds of comments, don’t I?” Andrea looked me right in the face. She was obviously thinking hard about this topic, but I wasn’t sure if she was relating it to Jon.
Where was Patrick when I needed him? I chose my words carefully as I answered her. “Andrea, the older I get, the more I realize how many things come out of my mouth, everyone’s mouth, that hurt someone else with absolutely no intent to do that.” And that’s where I ended the conversation, as I attempted to deftly move on to another topic. “Now, Andrea, you are going to work tomorrow, and I wondered if you had anything to wear?
“Well, I talked to the salon owner, and she told me anything but jeans would be fine. I have a lot of clothes stuffed in my duffel bag, and I’m sure I can find something.”
“Did you look in Gabby’s closet and dresser? She left quite a bit home…especially summer clothes. I know she wouldn’t mind if you borrowed something.”
Andrea said she hadn’t looked, that it would be great, and maybe when we got home we could look together. She started playing with her new haircut, pulling down the visor to look at herself in the mirror.
“Karen, the hairdresser, said she would fix my hair tomorrow if I can’t get it right…” and she continued chattering about her new job the rest of the way home. Jonathan wasn’t there when we got home. We heard him come in a little while later while we were putting together some outfits for Andrea to wear to work. I was finding it quite enjoyable, and realized I missed the girly things Gabby and I used to do. Andrea had brought a lot of clothes with her; I couldn’t believe how much she had stuffed into her bag. Again, the planning that had gone into her trip here was obvious. Jonathan looked in at us, said it looked like fun but he was going to do a little homework and turn in for the night. Before he left, he said, “Andrea, if you want to meet some of the kids Wednesday night, I have it all set up.”
“Sounds great to me!” She answered, and she looked relieved as he said good night. Before we were finished going through the clothes, her mother called. I answered the ph
one, and Ginny told me she had arranged to work for the next twelve days, and then take her week’s vacation.
“Is that all right with you? It means Andrea will be with you for two weeks before I get there.”
“I think that’s going to work out fine! You’ll stay with us when you get here, of course. Andrea’s found something to keep herself busy. Here, I’ll let you talk to her.”
Andrea enthusiastically listened to her mother’s plan and told her about her job. When she hung up, she asked me if her mom had mentioned she was going to look for a job here, too. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to hear that. It seemed like a very good idea.