Chapter 22
After I had that first dinner at Marshall and Bob’s, and even more so after Gabby and I had stopped by, my friendship with them began to grow. It helped fill a void that had developed with Jonathan, partially because he was working nights. I wasn’t sure if the space between us was a result of his coming out, or if it was inevitable because of his age and he was on his way to college, but I knew we definitely weren’t as close as we had been. Having Marshall and Bob in my life helped. Over the summer, we began seeing more of each other fairly often as they began dropping by now and then to talk about the house. We also had a few more lunches, most times with Lily included.
Over the summer, Lily had become more confident in herself, especially over being half-black. I thought she grew more beautiful each time we got together. We’d had several discussions when she heard me use the words ‘half-black,’ because Lily insisted in this country, one is never considered ‘half.’ Any part black meant black to the white world. During one of these conversations, Marshall and Bob were there, too. Marshall said he couldn’t really offer a personal view on this conversation, since as far as he knew, he was no part white, but he said he found the blacks in America had conflicting views over those who were mixed race. He had observed that some people of color favored lighter skinned blacks, but others treated them like they didn’t belong. Certainly literature could be found that supported each point of view. Bob said in his opinion, if everyone just married outside their race, we’d all be mixed and it wouldn’t matter. We agreed that we’d probably never find a better solution, at least not during a lunch conversation.
One afternoon, Lily finally asked them about church – something I had wanted to ask but just never found the right moment.
“Marshall,” she began, looking right at him, “I was raised as a church-going girl. I went to an all-black church, and I loved it growing up. But when I married and moved here, well, you know I started ignoring my race, and part of that included not going to church.”
Marshall was happy to talk about his faith and church. “I was raised going to church, too.” He didn’t hesitate to add, “Would you like to go some Sunday with us? Our church is mixed, though.”
Bob cleared his throat and looked a little uncomfortable. “Lily, I have no idea what you’ve been through or what made you try to “pass” as a white person, but I want you to know, Marshall isn’t talking race when he says our church is mixed.”
This is where I finally found my tongue. “Do you go to an all-inclusive church, Bob?”
He nodded, and Marshall continued, “Everyone is accepted at our church, regardless of sexual orientation. It is mixed, race-wise, too, but most of the mixed-race couples happen to be same-sex.”
“I have heard of churches like that,” Lily said. “I’m not sure that’s what I’m looking for,” she mumbled, being as honest as I’d ever seen her. “Danny’s father goes to church every Sunday, and I just can’t imagine running in to him there. I think what I’m looking for is a connection to the kind of church going I had as a child. The same songs, the “a-mens!” She became quiet for a moment as she recalled her Sundays growing up. “Really, what I’m looking for is a piece of my past at church, not my ex-husband.”
For some reason, Marshall didn’t really respond to that. Instead, he said, “Some churches preach a doctrine of hate toward homosexuality, but our church focuses on the Bible’s message of love…Love your neighbor as yourself, love one another, you know…”
Even though I hadn’t been much of a part of the conversations, I heard myself exclaim, “I would love to go with you sometime! I had to walk out of my own church when I heard the negativity recently. Tell me, Marshall, how’s the music…traditional, contemporary?”
“You name it, we sing it!” Marshall was enthusiastic. “We make Glee Club sound like amateurs! Will you try it with us one Sunday?”
I quickly agreed, and Lily continued to stall, reiterating that it would be too hard to go with the possibility she might run into her ex-husband, and that what she was really missing was her childhood church experience. We didn’t push her, and we didn’t set a date, but I knew them well enough now that I could invite myself to join them at their church, and planned to do it soon.
I had known them for nearly three months before Bob met Jonathan. Experience and advice from Patrick and Marshall had made me more realistic about trying to force situations with Jonathan. It finally happened over the summer. They had come for a casual Saturday lunch, most of which they brought with them, and Jonathan came home while they were still here. I knew he must have been ready to meet them, because he easily could have avoided coming home until their car was gone, but he didn’t do that. Their meeting went far better than I could have hoped. As it turned out, Bob had gone to the same state school Jonathan would be attending in the fall. He asked Jonathan if he could show him some of the coolest places to go by looking at them on the Internet. Although I thought he might not think anything about Bob was cool, Jonathan seemed to like him immediately, and the two of them disappeared for nearly an hour. While they were gone, Marshall asked me for yet another tour of the yard. I obliged, but I was not very focused on the yard, as I discovered I was concerned about what Bob and Jonathan were doing. I immediately chided myself for having such thoughts, although they really weren’t defined in my mind, and Marshall seemed to share no such qualms. I guess all the books I had read about the problems faced by those growing up homosexual made my mind wander to the unrealistic and unpleasant possibilities. Marshall continued asking about the plantings in my yard. Next, he gently pushed me to discuss our tentative plans for traded residences. We were getting ready to set a date and meet with a mutual lawyer. We were discussing it when they finally came back outside. Bob asked Jonathan what he thought of the idea. I was surprised at the reaction Jonathan had. I had only mentioned it to him a few times, but we’d had no conversation yet other than his initial acceptance of the idea.
“My mom needs to get out of this house, away from the memories it holds for her of my father.” I couldn’t conceal my feelings; I was not expecting that from him. I’m sure the hurt showed on my face because immediately, he said, “I’m not saying anything negative about Dad,” and he looked at me. Then he continued, “But I don’t think you have been able to move on – in your personal life.”
“I haven’t wanted anyone else,” I defended myself. Inwardly, I was so unprepared to hear Jonathan say these things. My eighteen year old son was thinking about my personal life? I hadn’t realized he thought that way. I began wondering if I had treated my inability to get over Dick in the same way I had Jonathan being gay? Was this another area I had just refused to address? That seemed apparent as I heard what my son was saying. Marshall, who had been taking it all in, commented, “Mara, I never knew your husband, but I think I have been able to get a sense of him through you. I just don’t think he was the kind of man who would want to see you alone forever.”
He spoke so softly, so true, that I couldn’t control the tears that were forming. I think it was at that moment that I began to realize and mourn other parts of my life I had ignored for the past thirteen years. With my son’s and Marshall’s words hitting me like a ton of bricks, I understood that I was not going to be able to continue living like this any longer. And as annoying as Bob could be some times, he was the one who introduced me to the man that would force me to move on. I had a hard time pulling myself together that afternoon with the each of them hovering over me like a mother hen, but I eventually did. And that was the beginning of my time to move forward.