The Wrong McElroy

by K L Hughes

  “I’m not gay because I moved to California, Grandma,” Lizzie said, barely containing an eye roll.

  “Well.”

  “I’ve known since I was twelve.”

  “Yeah, right,” Brian said. “And we’re just now finding out about it? Please.”

  “Yeah, did you ever consider that this might be why? Because I was afraid of how you guys would react? Because I was. I still am, but I’m tired of hiding it.”

  “You mean you found someone to fool around with.” Brian cut a glance Fiona’s way.

  “Why are you being such an ass about this?” Lizzie asked him, point-blank. “It’s only you who’s giving me shit about it. I mean, I expected Grandma to have a problem with it, but you’re acting like I’ve personally offended you. What is your problem, Brian? What have you got against gay people?”

  “Nothing!” He snapped at her. “I ain’t got nothing against gay people. I’ve got something against liars.”

  He shoved his chair back, the wood scraping on the floor, and stomped past them out of the room. Lizzie took a second to steady herself, squeezing Fiona’s hand as hard as Fiona could handle. She then held her head high, looked around the table, and said, “Does anyone else have a problem with me being gay?”

  “I certainly don’t,” Grace said, surprising everyone by speaking up at all. She dropped her napkin onto her plate and stood. When she wrapped Lizzie up in a hug, Lizzie closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.

  Another chair scraped the floor, and in seconds, Sophie’s arms were around Grace and Lizzie both, holding them tight. “I don’t either. I never could. I love you.”

  Fiona released Lizzie’s hand and edged out of the way, giving them space as Michael, eyes red and watery, surrounded his three sisters with his long, lanky arms. He lay his head on top of Lizzie’s and didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. When Charlie Sr.’s chair squeaked back, the sea of siblings parted, and Lizzie stood like a small, spooked animal, facing her father.

  He opened his arms to her, wide. A cry that shot straight to Fiona’s heart echoed around the room as Lizzie covered her mouth with one hand and walked into his waiting embrace. He held her close, one hand on her back, the other buried in her hair. He kissed the top of her head, then dropped down by her ear. Whatever words he said were whispered so quietly that no one in the room except Lizzie heard, but Fiona could tell by their body language that they were soft words, gentle words, words to soothe and reassure.

  The needling sensation of eyes on her drew her attention toward one of the two women still occupying seats around the table. Rosie openly watched her with a smile. It wasn’t as warm as the others she’d received throughout her time with the family, but it was there. It was open to growth, and that was enough for Fiona. She returned the timid expression just as she heard Sophie say, “This is definitely the most interesting Christmas we’ve had in a while.”

  The McElroy huddle broke into loud laughter, Sophie, Grace, and Lizzie each wiping their eyes free of tears. “You’re welcome,” Lizzie said, holding her dad in a side hug as the others shuffled awkwardly in place.

  “All right,” Charlie Sr. said. “What are we all standing around for? We’ve got presents to open. Someone call in Charlie and the girls.”

  “Uh, son,” Grandma Sophia butted in. “We’re not done with this. Not by a mile.”

  “Yes, we are, Mom.” He barely spared her a glance. “Lizzie’s said what she needed to say, and that’s that. We’re not going to talk about it anymore.”

  “No, that’s certainly not that. It’s not right, and you know it. I didn’t raise you to let your kids behave this way.”

  “Grandma, please,” Lizzie tried, but the old woman waved her off.

  “Now, Lizzie, you know I love you, hon, but this ain’t right. Being out there’s got you mixed up, and then this one comes along, and…” She waved a hand toward Fiona. “You need help, hon. You need to come home and let us get you taken care of, so you can get your head screwed on right again.”

  The slam of Rosie’s hand to the table vibrated through the room. “That’s enough!” She pointed sharply at her husband. “That’s your baby, Sophia. You raised your baby, all your babies, but now you’re done. Elizabeth is my baby, mine, and I’ll see to her how I see fit. And that’s the end of it.” The napkin she’d balled up in her lap opened with a flutter, and she folded it neatly and carefully as she spoke. Not once did she look at any of them. “Now, you can either accept that, and you can sit there and drink your coffee and spend Christmas with your family, or Charlie can take you home. Either way, I won’t hear another word of it.”

  She glanced up, only once, and sent a cutting look Grandma Sophia’s way. “And this one’s name is Fiona,” she added, tilting her head toward Fiona, “and she’s been nothing but kind and patient with all of us since she got here, so you can just hush up about her, too. Hear?” She didn’t wait for an answer and was already on her feet. “It’s time we all evolved a little.” Without a second glance, she barreled toward the door. “Let’s go, kids. The girls won’t wait all day.”

  As she passed by her children, she ran a hand down the back of Lizzie’s hair, a simple, fleeting touch Fiona knew meant so much, then hustled out of the room.

  Michael found his way to Fiona’s side as the rest of the family filed out, one by one. He wound their hands together and led her into the hall, leaving only Charlie Sr. and Grandma Sophia behind to have whatever harsh discussion Fiona imagined was in store. In the long, picture-strewn hallway by the den, Michael stopped and drew Fiona to his side. “Well, that was interesting,” he said and rested his back against the only part of the wall he could find not adorned in frames.

  “Yeah. Your mom is fierce.”

  “She has her moments. That’s for sure.”

  “You think she can? Evolve, I mean. Your grandma?”

  “Probably not.” He sounded truly disappointed in the fact, and Fiona understood. It was hell to love someone who couldn’t love you back, not for who you were but rather for who they wished you could be. It wasn’t any kind of love to envy. She could only imagine what was going through his mind in that moment, perhaps the realization that he would likely be met with the same reception from his grandma should he ever choose to come out as asexual. The thought devastated Fiona. “I hope so, though,” he said and knocked his hip against her side. “You okay, kid?”

  “I’m good.” She lay her head against his arm. “Thanks for standing up for her. Lizzie.”

  “Always.” He stared down at her, and she could tell he was trying to figure out where she stood in that moment, with him, with the family, with Lizzie, with herself even. He always looked at her that way when he wanted to know how she was feeling or what she was thinking but didn’t want to ask. She expected him to anyway, because that’s just the way he was. He could rarely leave anything alone. Instead, he bumped her again and quietly said, “We don’t have to stay.”

  “What do you mean? You want to leave?”

  “We could head back early.”

  “But it’s your family’s Christmas.”

  He shrugged. “We have one every year, and this wouldn’t be the first I’ve missed. I don’t need to be here for presents. I’d rather know you were somewhere where you felt comfortable, and I don’t think you do here, not anymore anyway. That’s probably not going to change anytime soon.”

  “Michael.”

  “I’m not blaming you or anything,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. You have every right to feel uncomfortable, and I’m sure it’ll pass once everything dies down and gets back to normal, but there’s really just no sense in us staying here when things are like this. You know what I mean? It’s family drama. You shouldn’t have to be caught up in the middle of it.”

  “I think I might have caused it.”

  “Don’t think that. Really.” He grabbed her h
and and held it tight. “Lizzie would’ve eventually come out on her own. You were just kind of her tipping point, I guess.”

  “Sometimes, we need a little push.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You could have told me, you know. About you.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you, really?”

  “Fiona.” He turned fully toward her and looked her right in the eyes. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world. Trust me, the minute I’m ready to have an actual, sober conversation about it, you’ll be the first person I call.” His arms slinked around her middle and folded her in against him. “Come here.” They stood that way for a long time, just hugging alone in an empty hallway. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do. And if that means you want to get out of here, then I’m ready to go.”

  It was one of those moments, the kind in which she was hit with a sudden rush of immense affection. The kind in which she realized, fully, just how much Michael McElroy meant to her. She clutched the soft, fuzzy material of his sweater a little tighter. “As good as that sounds, going home and crashing on your couch—”

  “With a pizza.”

  “—with a pizza.” She tossed her head back. “Holy God, that sounds amazing.”

  “So, we’re going then?”

  Fiona stepped back and ran her hands down her tired face, then planted them on her hips. “I don’t want to leave Lizzie here.” She looked back toward the far end of the hall. “Do you think we could take her with us?”

  “Back to St. Louis?”

  “If she wants to, of course. I mean, we won’t take her against her will or anything, but if she wants to go, then I think we should invite her to come stay with us for a while. She could stay at your place or mine. Or both. Whatever.”

  “You think she’d want to after everything? I won’t be surprised if she’s already on a plane back to LA by the time we get to the living room. Grandma was really pissing me off.”

  “I think coming out is hard,” Fiona said. “Someone is pretty much always bound to piss someone off. But I know if I were her, I’d need to get away, too. Sometimes, it’s just better to do that with people who love you.”

  His eyes bulged. “You love her?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I know.” He laughed and looped an arm around her neck. “Come on. Let’s go find her.”

  They expected to find Lizzie in the living room. Instead, they found her halfway up the stairs in a shouting match with Brian, who stood at the top, yelling down at her.

  “I just think it’s messed up.” His face was as red as a ripe cherry. “And I’m entitled to my opinion.”

  “You’re also entitled to silence, but I don’t see you seizing that right any time soon,” Lizzie said. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t you specifically, so stop being such a baby about it, for Christ’s sake.”

  “But you were the first person I told that April was still married to her ex.”

  “Oh, please. Grace was the first person you told.”

  “She doesn’t count.”

  “I’m sure she’d appreciate you saying so.”

  “You know what I mean.” He walked down a step, then another. His voice softened a bit as he took a breath and blew it out in one loud, heavy rush. “She’s my twin. Telling her is like telling my reflection. But you were the first person I told after her, because I thought that’s what you and me did—tell each other things. But I feel like I’m the last person to find out about you.”

  “Brian, you literally found out at the same time as everyone else.”

  “Bullshit.” He nodded his chin toward the bottom of the stairs where Fiona and Michael stood watching the scene unfold. “You’re telling me you didn’t tell Michael first? How else would he know to bring your girlfriend here for you?”

  “Are you serious right now?” Lizzie stomped up the stairs. As soon as she reached Brian’s side, she smacked him on the back of the head. “You big idiot.”

  “Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head. “What?”

  “I never even met Fiona before Michael brought her here.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I swear!” She widened her eyes at the two of them, expectant. “Guys.”

  “It’s true, man,” Michael said. “I didn’t know about Lizzie. It’s a total coincidence that they, you know, fell for each other or whatever. I swear I thought Fiona would be the only lesbian here.”

  “Fiona also thought Fiona would be the only lesbian here,” Fiona said, raising a hand.

  “See? I didn’t lie to you.”

  Brian looked at Lizzie like a scolded puppy. “Well, you still didn’t tell me.”

  “And now you know, so can you please just get over it already? I’m not Mom. I’m not going to coddle you.” He caught himself on the wall as she shoved him. “This is my day to be a big baby, not yours. Okay? If anyone’s going to throw a fit about being mistreated, it’s going to be me. So, how about you just agree to whine about it later and give me a hug now?”

  His childish grumbling as he shuffled into Lizzie’s arms made Fiona laugh. She looked at Michael. “Is there ever a dull day in your house?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Why aren’t you guys in the living room?” Lizzie headed back downstairs, Brian following right behind her. “Mom’s probably about ready to explode. She’s been trying to get everyone in there since the dining room.”

  “I think she gave up,” Michael said. “She was just sitting in the recliner, staring at the tree, when we walked through.”

  “Oh hell. She’s shut down.”

  “What does that mean?” Fiona asked as the other three chuckled. “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Michael said. “She just does that sometimes. I think she just hits maximum mom-ing for a day. Like, she just hits a limit and goes into statue mode.”

  “Eight kids’ll do that to you,” Brian said, passing by them. “I’ll round everyone up.”

  Lizzie started to follow after him but stopped when Michael grabbed her arm. When she turned to look at him, her usual sweet, teasing smile was in place but appeared more practiced than genuine. Fiona could see in her body how tired she was, how heavy the day was weighing on her. As far as coming-out affairs went, Grandma Sophia hadn’t been kind, but the whole affair could’ve been much worse. Fiona figured that was just the nature of the thing, though—the immensity of releasing a secret that had been packed and pressed so tightly inside for so many years. Her own coming out had been an exhausting affair. She still felt tired just thinking about it. She imagined the same was true for Lizzie and likely would be for a while yet to come.

  “Hey,” Lizzie said softly, rubbing Michael’s hand where it lay on her arm. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine with us. We were more concerned about you. Fiona was thinking maybe you might—”

  “Want to get out of here,” Fiona finished. She pointed between herself and Michael. “With us.”

  Lizzie’s smile grew a bit. “Another shitty horror movie?”

  “A little farther than the movie theater, actually.” Michael scratched the back of his head, then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Back to St. Louis.”

  Her brows ticked up. “You’re leaving early?”

  “Only if you’ll come with us. You weren’t supposed to go back to LA for another week anyway, right?”

  “That’s right, though I was considering amending that plan. You know, given everything.”

  Fiona stepped closer and took Lizzie’s hand. “Come back with us. We’ll gorge ourselves on pizza and beer and Game of Thrones.”

  “You can crash on my couch,” Michael said, to which Lizzie scoffed.

  “I’m not sleeping on your couch. I’ll sleep in the b
ed.”

  “No. You kick in your sleep.”

  “I don’t do that anymore.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “We haven’t shared a bed in, like, six years. Not since that shitty motel outside New Orleans.”

  “And you kicked the whole night.”

  “Well, a little kick never killed anybody, Michael. Geez.”

  “Said the person doing the kicking.”

  “The person doing the kicking can sleep in my bed,” Fiona said. “I’ve got no problem sharing.”

  Lizzie pursed her lips as if attempting to hide a smile. “Hm. Let me think about it.”

  “All right.” Michael smacked his lips as if he suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth. “You do that. Without me. I’m gonna go tell Mom we’re heading back early.”

  Once he was gone, Lizzie swung toward Fiona and looped her arms around her waist. She pulled her in so that their chests met and kissed her chin. Then her cheek. Her lips. “So,” she said quietly, “sharing a bed already, huh? That’s not moving too fast?”

  “My head was literally between your legs just a few hours ago.”

  “Mm.” Lizzie hummed, a delicious sound that made Fiona’s stomach flutter. “Yes, it was.” She swiped a strand of hair behind Fiona’s ear. “Definitely one of my fonder Christmas memories.”

  “Not the fondest?”

  “Ask me again tomorrow.” She grinned. “The day’s not over yet.”

  Fiona laughed out loud and pressed the sound to Lizzie’s lips. It vibrated between them, warm and wonderful, and all the tension of the day seeped out and away.