Fancy White Trash (14 page)

“Why don't you pull over?” I suggest. He doesn't need to be dealing with traffic at a time like this. He sits forward and I get my hand back. We cross the intersection and pull off onto the dirt shoulder.

I take Cody's hand in both of mine and lay my cheek against it. “Everything's going to be okay, Cody. I promise.”

He lets out a coughing sound and bends forward. I let go of his hand, unlock my seat belt, and push myself over the middle console as best I can. We are awkwardly arranged, my knee on the armrest, head resting on his back. He chokes back his tears, holding them in, until finally his body relaxes.

I return to my seat. “I love you, Cody.” It's the only thing I can think of, the only true thing I know.

He gives me a weak smile. “Love you, too, Abs.”

“And don't worry. I won't say anything to anyone.” I stare into his eyes so he'll see that I mean what I say.

“Thanks.” Reaching over, he laces his fingers with mine. Smiles. “You're the best.”

“I know.” We sit in silence for a while. His breathing returns to normal. Our hands start to sweat without the A/C. “We going home or what?” I ask.

He starts up the car. “Once more around?”

“Sure.” We both need the recovery time. He turns on the radio and we listen to the familiar commercials, watch our neighborhood go by, see the same sights we've been looking at our whole lives, and I realize that nothing is really the same. Not anymore.

After we've circled the block five times, Cody pulls back into his driveway. Hannah is sitting on their lawn, which, typical of our desert climate, is mostly sand and rock, with a few outcroppings of strategically placed cactus. She's about to put something in her mouth. It wiggles, which means it's still alive. I read that bug eating is a phase, but I'm beginning to think she's never going to outgrow it.

Barbara is not paying attention, saying something to Walt with her hand on his arm.

I leap out of the car. “Hannah, no!” But I'm too late. The whatever-it-was disappears into her mouth.

“Oh, Hannah.” I wedge my finger in her mouth, trying to get her to spit it out, but I'm too late. She swallows it.

“You've got to watch her every second,” I snap, before remembering that I'm talking to Barbara Super Mom and that Hannah isn't really her responsibility and that Cody and I were gone a lot longer than we were supposed to be.

“Must be one fun block. I'm surprised you didn't get dizzy going around so many times,” Walt says, smiling and patting Cody's back. “How's she handle, son?”

Cody looks completely himself now. “Great, Dad. It's perfect.”

“Not a bad deal for me, either,” Barbara says, tactfully ignoring my earlier statement. “I've been wanting a new car for years. I'm just so glad we finally had the time to take care of this today.” She smiles at Walt.

I pick Hannah up, hands under her armpits, and she wraps her chunky legs around my waist. “We'd better get going. Cody, you coming to get me for dinner or what?”

He laughs. “Sorry, princess. I'm not wasting gas driving from my house to yours.”

With Hannah settled on my hip, I turn to Barbara. “Is there anything I can bring tonight?” It's not something my family would ever think of, but I've noticed that Barbara always brings something to our pig roasts and barbecues.

She looks surprised by my request, but in a good way. “Sure, Abby. How nice of you to ask. Maybe some soda?”

Proud of doing the right thing, I grin. “No problem. See you tonight.”

Resettling Hannah's ever-increasing weight on my hip, I walk the fifty-eight steps back home.

Barbara opens the door before I can knock, which is wonderful because I wasn't sure how to do it with a liter of 7-UP in one hand and Hannah propped on my hip.

“Abby, Hannah! So glad you could make it!” Barbara dresses for dinner, a foreign concept in my family. With her flowered summer dress and matching sandals, she looks like a sitcom mom. I've been to her dinners before, so I brushed Hannah's dark hair until it shone and put on my best jeans and a cami top.

“Barbara, you look fantastic.” I kiss her cheek and hand over the 7-UP.

She ushers us through the entryway and into the dining room. Jackson, Cody, and Walt are already seated. We all greet each other, and I find it strangely difficult to look at Jackson. If he hadn't smoothed things over with Cody for me, we might never have had that incredible conversation in the car. So I'm grateful. But when I glance Jackson's way, it's not appreciation I feel.

Barbara serves a salad with walnuts and cranberries. Beaucoup fancy. Hannah, locked down in a high chair, refuses to eat it. Barbara graciously fetches some saltine crackers for her. Jackson tells some funny stories from his trip. Walt asks Cody about school. Barbara inquires politely about Kait and Stephanie. It's all so civilized. I am totally loving it.

I help Barbara clear the salad plates and she brings in the main course, a strange-looking rice pilaf with mushrooms and asparagus. It's like one of those dishes you see on the covers of magazines in the checkout line at the grocery store. Hannah scrunches up her face so I run to the kitchen and find her a container of yogurt and some animal crackers to eat.

I am three bites into my pilaf when the phone rings. Walt pushes away from the table and answers the extension in the kitchen. “Hello,” he says, and then there's a brief silence.

“Who the hell is this?” Walt's voice thunders in the room. We hear the phone crash against the floor, plastic against unforgiving tile.

Barbara's half out of her seat when Walt returns, intimidating eyebrows arrowed over his nose.

“Who was it?” she asks.

Walt waves a hand, speechless for a second. “They asked if my homo son was here. When I asked who it was, they said Cody's boyfriend.”

My eyes shoot to Cody. He's pale. Barbara covers her mouth with a linen napkin, smothering her gasp. Jackson gets very busy shoveling salad into his mouth. Only Hannah seems unconcerned, happily dunking a cookie lion in her water glass.

“I don't have a boyfriend,” Cody says after an awkwardly long moment.

“Of course not!” Walt shouts like he's still on the phone with the prank caller. “My sons aren't gay.”

Two spots of color flame Cody's cheeks. He looks at me, swallows hard, and closes his eyes.

“Actually, Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you.” His eyes open, wander the table before settling on Hannah.

“Yes?” Walt prompts, then stuffs a large spoonful of rice into his mouth.

“Mom, Dad,” Cody starts over. He rubs his nose.

Jackson catches my eye like,
Is he about to do what I think he's gonna do?
And I shake my head like,
I have no idea
. Even though I have a bad feeling in my gut like I know exactly what he's going to do.

“I'm gay.”

Barbara's fork clatters on the edge of her plate, then flips to the floor. Walt is frozen in place, color creeping up from his collared shirt, slowly inching its way up his face. So much for keeping it between us. It's one thing to field the harassment at school, but I guess a crank call at home was too much. Looks like Cody's coming all the way out. I give him an encouraging nod.

Hannah bangs her fist on the tray and sends a cookie elephant flying. “Wan' mine!” she screams, pointing at the floor.

Normally, if Hannah throws something on the floor, I leave it. Otherwise, she'll think it's a fun game and I'll spend every meal on my hands and knees tossing her food back up to her tray. This time, it is so awkward, and everyone is so silent, that I welcome the interruption. I slide out of my seat and grab the cookie.

Cody watches his parents the same way a small jackrabbit watches a coyote. “Mom, Dad?”

I am sick to my stomach, the pilaf like a brick in my belly. The longer they don't say anything, the worse it gets. Walt's face is now completely red, and I can actually count the heartbeats in his temple. One—two-three, One—two-three. His breath rasps loudly in and out.

Hannah munches happily on her cookies, fingers covered in yogurt and drool. She is the only one oblivious to the tension.

Maybe Cody planned this all along and the crank call just gave him an opening. Maybe he asked me to dinner tonight to make it easier. Maybe he is counting on me to do something. I take a deep breath.

“That's great, Cody!” I say too loudly.

Barbara sits, stunned, but Walt bellows out, “Great! You think this is great?”

I swallow. To be truthful, Walt has always made me a little nervous. As the branch manager of Valle Verde Bank, he works long hours. Outside of these Saturday dinners, where Barbara makes sure everyone is on their best behavior, I rarely see him. So I don't answer, just spear a forkful of asparagus and stuff it in my mouth.

Walt stands. His napkin slips to the floor. “Take it back, Cody. This isn't funny anymore.”

Cody trembles in his chair. “I'm not being funny. You really think I'd make a joke about this?”

“I can't think why else you'd say something so outrageous.” Walt thumps a hand on the table. Our water glasses rattle. Jackson's sloshes over and water seeps into the tablecloth.

Barbara rushes to Jackson with a cloth napkin, no doubt hoping to mop up the mess before it damages the wood table underneath. Jackson scoots to give her room to clean. Her hand shakes so badly that she knocks the water glass completely over.

“Damn it!” she shouts.

Cody and I both stare. We've never heard her swear. Never.

She turns on Cody. “Why do you have to ruin everything? Why?”

“He's not ruining anything,” I say. “You knocked over the glass.”

“Gay?” she repeats, clearly not having the same conversation I am. “I can't believe you'd tell us now. Isn't that kind of thing supposed to happen in college? Not
now
, for God's sake. Who will go to prom with you next year if you're
gay
?”

That prom is her primary concern here strikes me as funny. A giggle escapes. Four sets of shocked eyes focus on me. I wave my hand at my face, like a fan, but it doesn't stop the giggles. More erupt from me. “Prom?” I choke out. “You're worried about prom?” I can't stop laughing.

Barbara's chest heaves up and down like she'd just run her three-mile loop, and she takes a big gulp of water.

Jackson forces a chuckle, which pushes Walt over the edge.

“There is nothing funny about this!” he yells. The volume is so loud that Hannah looks up from sucking yogurt out from underneath her fingernails and lets out a yowl of her own. Once she gets started, it doesn't stop. She picks up volume and pitch until I worry neighborhood dogs will come running.

I pick Hannah up, yogurt-fingers and all, and jostle her on my hip. “Shhh,” I say to her, but look at Walt, hoping he'll take the hint.

He doesn't. “No son of mine is going to be gay. Get over this nonsense right now, Cody. You understand? Right now!”

Cody pushes his own chair back. He's unsteady, but mad. “This is exactly what I expected from you! I knew you wouldn't understand, I knew it!”

“Cody Matthew Jennings, watch your tone of voice!” Barbara returns to her seat. “Both of you sit down. We're going to finish this meal like civilized people.” She goes for her fork, but when she can't find it, takes the spoon and cuts an asparagus spear in half.

I set Hannah back in her chair and retake my seat. Obediently, we all take a few bites of our food. The pilaf takes up too much space in my throat, and for a few tense seconds, I worry that I'll choke. Or suffocate. Or barf it back up onto my plate. I take a quick sip of water, and the rice finally goes down.

“So, Cody, how long have you known?” Jackson asks, either braver or dumber than I gave him credit for.

Cody finishes chewing, then answers. “For a while now, I guess.”

Jackson nods like he's known all along, but I remember his reaction in the car. I feel strangely proud of him for being strong for Cody now. “Cool. Will you pass the salt?”

Walt springs from his chair again and shouts, “My son is not gay!”

“Of course not,” Barbara agrees. “But we'll talk about this later when we've all calmed down.”

Cody slams down his fork. “There's nothing to talk about. I'm gay. You know. End of discussion.”

Barbara grinds her teeth, and I finally see where Cody picked up the habit. “I said we'll talk about it later.”

“What else is there to say?” Cody says, making an obvious effort to appear emotionless. “I'm gay.”

Walt starts to say something, but Jackson clears his throat.

“By the way,” he says, “I'm not going to college next week.”

Chapter
13

"What were you thinking?” I ask Jackson later. Hannah and I escaped the war zone shortly after Jackson tossed in his grenade.

It is hours later, almost midnight, and Hannah's down for the night. Jackson's convinced me to sit in the tree with him. We are squished up together, which was maybe his plan, and I'm leaning against him for balance.

When I look up, I can make out a few stars through the leaves of the trees. The night air is cool against my skin, a relief after the summer heat of August. It may crawl back up into the nineties again tomorrow, but while the sun's down, I actually feel like I should've brought a sweatshirt.

“I didn't see how they could get any angrier.” Jackson shrugs off his timing. “I was wrong. They actually took his car back. Can you believe it?”