Chapter 11
That week flew by, and our lunch together was far more successful than my dinner party. Of course, it was much shorter, and Patrick wasn’t there, but we enjoyed each other’s company and I knew we would continue to get together. Again, we didn’t speak about their idea for trading residences in front of Lily, but Marshall found the opportunity to quietly tell me they were going to invite me to dinner soon so I could look at their place. I let him know I was definitely interested in the idea.
I also went to Jonathan’s final track meet, and it hit me hard that this was the last time I’d be attending a high school event for my children. One of my few social activities revolved around events like this and visiting with the other parents…and that would no longer happen. A few of us decided we’d come watch the younger athletes just so we could enjoy the socializing that occurred, but I wondered if we really would.
Before I knew it, the week was over, and Jonathan went to his prom. He looked so handsome, and he invited me to go to Janey’s to take pictures. There were three couples going together, and I was so happy he invited me be part of the night. As seems to be the custom these days, they would all go back to Janey’s to spend the night after the prom, before heading to an amusement park the next morning. I smiled to myself that there was a definite advantage in knowing Jonathan was gay – I didn’t have to worry about his girlfriend getting pregnant on senior prom night! Saturday was rather quiet until he came home – not until after dinner. He said they’d had a great time, all three couples, and he was clearly exhausted. He went to bed earlier on that Saturday night than he had in ages.
On Sunday morning, I kept to my plan from the last weekend. Church was early – at least the service I preferred. It began at 8:00, and I was glad to know I’d be back before Jonathan even woke up. We’d hardly had a chance to talk for a few days. I felt peace when I saw the first hymn was What a Friend We Have in Jesus. The words reminded me of the things I needed to do …take my thoughts to Him in prayer. But during the sermon, I discovered I was getting caught up on certain words the pastor said. “Love the sinner, hate the sinner.” The context was for all wrongdoers…and he began listing them: alcoholics, drug addicts, and then he added homosexuals. I found myself, without any conscious decision, getting up and walking out of the church during the next hymn. All sorts of thoughts began running around in my head. What happened to “Judge not, lest ye shall be judged”? and “Love thy neighbor as thyself”? Wasn’t judgment up to God alone? How could a person love and hate at the same time? Should we only love our neighbors if they are heterosexual? I was deep in such thoughts all the way home. When I pulled into the driveway, I saw a big black heap of something on my front steps. What on earth was it?
As I parked the car and opened the door, the heap began moving slowly. I froze, not comprehending what I was looking at, and it sat up as I realized it was a person…obviously a female with long matted hair and dressed entirely in black. Her eyes were rimmed in heavy black eyeliner which was somewhat smudged, and her lips had the remnants of black lipstick. Her black hair looked as if it hadn’t been combed in a very long time, hanging in long wooly dreadlocks well past her shoulders. She swung her legs around to sit on the front step, and looked up at me with recognition as she rubbed her eyes.
“Hi! Remember me?” she asked. Her voice was raspy, and she began rummaging through a large black backpack as she expectantly waited for my response.
I had no idea who she was, but I stared at her, trying to figure it out. She drew a pack of cigarettes out of her back, along with a lighter, and proceeded to light one. She exhaled, and spoke again.
“You haven’t changed much at all in five years, but I guess maybe I have…I’m Andrea, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Andrea? Well, yes, that is you, isn’t it? What happened to your hair?”
She giggled when I said that, touching the wooly mess, and I could see the smile was definitely the same as the thirteen-year-old girl who had moved away, but the rest had changed.
“I just meant that it used to be light brown…” I guess I was attempting not to comment on the ratted “style” of it, just the color change.
“That’s okay…not too many adults think this hair is attractive. But it sure doesn’t take much care…haven’t had to comb it in months.” She giggled again, and took another drag from the cigarette, then stomped it out with her sandaled foot. I noticed her toenails were painted black, along with her fingernails. She picked up the butt and put it into one of the many side pockets of her backpack. “So, I bet you’re surprised to see me here. Jonathan didn’t know I was coming, either. In fact, we haven’t really been in touch with each other for over a year.”
I nodded to acknowledge that I knew that. Their correspondence had dwindled over the years since she had moved. Initially, they had emailed each other at least once a week, then it went to every month or so, and Jonathan had told me last Christmas was the first one that he hadn’t even received a card or email from her, even though he had sent one. I also knew that her parents had divorced a year or two after they had moved, and after that she had moved two more times, once with her mother, and then to live with her father in Florida.
She broke the silence, asking, “So, is Jonathan here?”
“Yes, Andrea, he’s here…probably still in bed. Come on in…you can wake him, or if you’d like, we can have some breakfast.” I wondered exactly what I was letting into my house as we went through the front door. She answered me with great enthusiasm, “Breakfast sounds real good.”
Immediately, she asked if she could use the bathroom…she remembered right where it was. I went into the kitchen to get out some things for breakfast, and I realized I had quite a few questions to ask her. From the pantry, I took out some muffins and cereal, and suddenly, there she was, standing right beside me. She had taken off her long black Dracula-like cape, and I noticed she looked rather thin. She hung her backpack on the back of one of the chairs, and I asked her to get the milk and juice from the refrigerator, which she did, commenting, “This isn’t the same fridge you had when I left, but most everything else seems the same.” She quickly made herself at home, opening the cupboard where we kept the bowls. She took out one bowl, then turned to me and asked if she should get one out for me, too.
“No thanks,” I answered, “I’ll just have some coffee and a muffin.”
“Coffee sounds great,” she smiled and poured herself a generous bowl of cereal. It was obvious she was hungry, but I knew I had to start asking questions.
“Andrea, where do I begin? How are your parents?” She made a face when I asked that, but that didn’t stop me from asking more. “How did you get here? Do they know where you are?”
“You sure haven’t changed much, Mrs. Johnson,” she squinted as she looked at me close-up. “You always used to ask Jonathan and me a lot of questions, and you look exactly the same!”
“Well, how about answering a few of my questions?” I pressed, understanding instinctively that she wasn’t here because her life was all good. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“School? That ended last week – Florida schools close early for the summer. I graduated…guess Jonathan did, too?”
“He will, in another two weeks. Where are you going to college?” I asked yet another question, but I really wanted to know how she got here – especially all the way from Florida – and if her parents knew. I had known them fairly well before they left, and I was sure they hadn’t just dropped her off on my doorstep.
“College.” She said the word as if it were a complete sentence, giving it great consideration. “It’s kind of hard to go to college with no money, Mrs. Johnson, and I didn’t earn very good grades at either of my last two high schools.”
That really surprised me, because she had been a very good student before they moved away. “Your last two high schools? How many did you go to?”
“Three…when we firs
t moved to Ohio, I loved it there, and I did great in school, just like here. But then, Mom and Dad got divorced, and Mom and I had to move to an apartment, and I had to change schools. It was a lot rougher, and I really hated to go. Mom went to work early in the morning before school began, and I didn’t always get up and go everyday.” She paused…shoveling in some more cereal, and continued. “I have to admit I wasn’t the easiest daughter – and she was having a hard time coping with the divorce. I finally went to live with Dad, who had moved to Florida.”
“Does anyone know you’re here?” I didn’t get an answer to my question, because at that moment, Jonathan walked into the kitchen. His hair was all tousled and he was just wearing boxers.
“My God, you’ve gotten so much taller!” Andrea shrieked and jumped up from the table, giving him a huge hug. He stood there, stiff as a board, and didn’t hug back. He looked at me questioningly…finally she drew back and looked him square in the face.
“Jonzo…” and that was enough of a clue.
“Andes! I can’t believe it! What on earth is all over your eyes? Where’s your hair?” He lifted a lock of the matted rope.
“Well thanks, you look great, too,” she had a sulky whine to her voice, but she bounced right back. “Actually, you look mahvelous!” She looked him up and down and hugged him again. “Your mom offered me some breakfast while we waited for you to wake up. Want some?”
“Sure…” he answered haltingly. “But how did you get here? Why are you here? And what’s with the hair – are those dreadlocks? And why are you wearing all that black? You haven’t turned into a goth, have you?”
She sat back down and ate a little more cereal as he poured himself some juice and got out a muffin. I poured two cups of coffee and set one in front of her. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to answer his questions, either, and it was driving me crazy. Jonathan, who is more patient than I am, just sat there, slowly eating as he waited for her to answer him. Finally, she began speaking.
“How did I get here? I walked part of the way, I hitchhiked part of the way, and I even took a few bus rides. It’s taken me a week. Why am I here? I wanted to see you…I wanted to feel friendship…I haven’t really had a close friend since you, Jonz.” Her eyes filled up with tears, and even the harsh black eyeliner couldn’t hide the emotion she was feeling.
He reached over and rubbed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’ve missed you, too, Andes.” His words were soft and she glowed in their warmth. Trying to lighten the mood, he commented, “But I really don’t like the hair!”
“The truth is, neither do I,” she responded. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, and I didn’t want to anyway until I had left my father’s. It really annoyed his wife! I also thought it made me look scarier as I made this trip – nobody bothered me the whole way!”
I picked up a lock and felt it. It felt like wool, and really didn’t resemble hair. Andrea scrunched up her nose and said, “Doesn’t even feel like hair anymore, does it? I’m ready to get rid of them, but I’m not sure how. Do you think I’ll have to shave my head?” Then she turned to Jonathan and told him about all the black. “My step-mother thinks I’m horrible, a bad person, that I’m evil. She told me almost everyday. So I decided to dress in black…you know black is for evil, white is for good…”
I cleared my throat so they would both look at me, because for the most part, I hadn’t been included in their conversation. “Andrea, I think you might need to make some phone calls. Neither of your parents know where you are, do they?” She shook her head, agreeing with my statement. “About your hair, I really wouldn’t mind helping you get rid – I mean, cut it.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Johnson. If I could just take a shower first, I’ll call them. I don’t expect my father even knows yet – I left when he was away on a business trip, and you can bet Joan wouldn’t tell him. She’s probably hoping I never go back, and I’m not planning to! About my mom…I’m sure she doesn’t know I’m missing from Florida. I was awful to her before I moved in with Dad, and I haven’t spoken to her much in a long time.” She paused for a minute, and her eyes looked sad again, like she might cry. “I would like to call her. Before I do, though, can we talk about how long I can stay?”
I looked over at Jonathan to see his reaction before I answered her. He looked as surprised as I was by her request, so I simply said, “We can talk about that after you’ve called your mom.” She just shrugged, and picked up her backpack.
“Do you want me to use Gabby’s room, at least for tonight?” But before I answered, she added, “I’m guessing you don’t want me to smoke in the house, right?”
“What are you talking about, smoking?” Jonathan was dumbfounded.
“Chill, Jonzo, it’s just another bad habit I picked up to annoy my stepmother.”
“Well, she’s not here, so you can’t annoy her with it…” He was clearly not going along with her smoking, so she just shrugged, said, “No problem,” and went up stairs.
I hadn’t answered her about using Gabby’s room, but that was where she could stay. However, I realized her visit here had involved some planning on her part; it was clearly not a spur of the moment decision.
“Oh, dear, Jon, what is going on here?” I looked at him with real worry in my eyes.
“I’m as surprised as you are. Sounds like she’s been through a lot, doesn’t it? She looks horrible, but she seems like the old Andes underneath it all.”
I recognized something in Jonathan’s voice – something real, and not stilted – that had been missing in so many of our conversations since the day he’d told me he was gay. Our exchanges had often felt so guarded. That softened me, and I answered, “Let’s see how her mom reacts when she calls her. We’ll figure this out.”
Together we cleaned up the kitchen, and when Andrea came downstairs after her shower, the black eyeliner was gone from her face. She was a bit more recognizable, but still dressed all in black, and those woolly dreadlocks were still there. She and Jonathan decided to walk up to the park…the phone call to her mother could wait just a little longer. I changed out of my church clothes so I could work in the yard. I had fifteen bags of mulch in the garage that needed spreading, and I couldn’t think of anything that I would rather do at the moment.
Mom, I'm Gay Page 11
