Stereotype

Chapter 16

It was a few hours after lunch. While Frank hid in his room with Marina, Linda received some neighbors for a round of coffee and gossip. People over fifty seemed to be a majority in their neighborhood, so except for Marina's mother -who wasn't too fond of these meetings- all of Linda's friends were quite older than her.

"Oh, a few mornings ago," Stella was saying, "my daughter Susan found her youngest sitting at the kitchen's table with a newspaper in his hands...and wearing his dad's clothes!"

"Oh, that's so cute!" Marybelle exclaimed.

"Wait, that's not all," the other continued. "When he sees his mom he goes, 'Morning, darling,' just like his dad always does!"

"Oh my God, kids can be so funny!" Linda laughed. "When Frankie was little he was always stealing my clothes and modeling them for us, it was adorable."

The other women's laughter suddenly died down and an uncomfortable silence filled the room as glances were exchanged.

"Is...is there something wrong?" the hostess asked.

“I don't know, Linda.” Marybelle took a sip of her coffee, hesitant. “I've been wondering...what's up with your boy, Frank?”

Linda shifted in her seat and gingerly picked up her coffee mug. She drank from the hot liquid and flinched visibly before replying, "What do you mean?"

Marybelle looked at Stella, who gave her a 'don't get me into this' expression in return. The first sighed and her eyes fell back on Linda. “I saw him out my front window the other day when I was watering my lilies. He was with that ginger friend of his, and at first sight I thought they were two girls, for goodness sake.”

Linda's lips formed a tight straight line while she exhaled sharply through her nose. “He’s just…different, Marybelle.”

Bertha, who hadn't talked much so far, tapped her fingers on the table as if encouraging herself to speak. “Linda, don't take it wrong, we don't want to stick our noses into the way you raise your son. We're just trying to look out for you and the boy. He's been getting more and more...feminine. You're going to have people talking about him if you…if he keeps up this act. You need to try to put a stop to it.”

“We're just concerned, dear,” added Marybelle.

"I know b-but..." Linda sputtered nervously. "I've tried. I've talked to him many times to get him to dress more...accordingly to his sex, but he's so insistent that he likes to wear those clothes! Frank's doctor doesn't think it's his hormones and Anthony's no help. He just encourages Frankie.”

Bertha shook her head. "Well, girl, you need to talk to your husband, it's for your child's good."

"He has a different opinion, Bertha," Linda commented, then slightly veered the conversation. "What Frank wears to go out is not that bad, though, I don't think so..."

"I have to agree," Stella spoke timidly. "Leave poor Linda alone already, Frank's clothes are not that bad..."

"For a girl, maybe," Marybelle replied. "You can be honest, Tella. We're just trying to help Linda."

"I just think you're all..."

Bertha didn't give Stella time to defend her posture, instead asking Linda, "You mean Frank dresses even more like a girl when at home?"

"I...I don't think what he wears here is such a big deal, honestly," Linda retorted. She was starting to sound pretty annoyed.

Marybelle contorted her lips in such a fashion that the wrinkles around them became even more pronounced. “Well, since I guess what he does in the street is more of deal…” she began to whisper across the table, like she was about to speak of a horrid taboo subject, “the boy was acting weird with another boy. You know...like boys would normally do with their little girlfriends?”

Linda rubbed her face in a clear gesture of exasperation. “First of all, 'the boy' has a name, so I'd appreciate it if you used it. And secondly, are you talking about Gerard? Dark hair, pale...comes here often?"

"Wowowow, sorry!" Marybelle raised her hands in surprise at Linda's reaction. "You know 'boy' is just an affectionate term; no need to snap at me, Linda. And yes, that's who the b-- Frank was with."

"Gerard is Frank's friend," Linda stressed. "My son has finally made a new friend and I'm not going to do anything against that. And what is it that you saw that seemed so weird to you, uh? Were they holding hands, kissing? What did you see, Mary?"

Marybelle looked both horrified and doubtful. It took her several seconds to respond. "Jesus Christ, no. I would have told you right away! They were, you know...walking very close, whispering, laughing. Then they pushed each other playfully for a while and finally kept on walking with their arms around each other!"

"Oh yes, so very boyfriendly of them," Linda said in a monotone, unimpressed tone. "That's what friends do."

Bertha hummed loudly, making the others turn to her. "You might be right, Linda. But that, together with the way he dresses? It's definitely going to have people talking if he keeps it up,” she uttered, resigned to her position on the matter.

After that, the ladies silently sipped at their coffees for a few minutes until Marybelle took a deep breath. “Can't you just refuse to buy him any more girly clothes?” she brought the subject back stubbornly.

Linda quickly cut her eyes across to her blond friend. “I don't buy them. Frank uses his own money to do it and his dad and Marina support him. I've asked him not to! Do you think I haven't? I don't exactly like that he dresses like a girl, but I'm hoping it's a phase he's going to outgrow...”

Suddenly, Frank was standing next to the couch where his mother was sitting, Marina close behind him. Linda gasped loudly when she realized her son had tears in his eyes.

"A phase? Thanks for defending me, Mom. Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically.

“Frankie, sweetie...“

“No, Mom. I get it! You were very clear earlier with the doctor and now here. You want me to be more like Ray. It's not okay for you that I'm just myself!” Frank turned and pushed his way past Marina, his gait speeding up to a sprint once past her. The girl quickly went after him.

He was almost at the door when Marybelle let out, "It's not that, kiddo. But...don't you want to be a normal boy?"

Frank spun in his place fast, his fists tensing at each side of his body as he glared at the woman. He started, "Look, ma'am, I-"

"Gerard and Mikey will be here soon, let's go," Marina interrupted, pushing him back towards the exit.

Looking down at the purple lycra tights Frank was wearing with jean shorts on top, Bertha told Linda, "I don't think it's safe for him go out like that, people will talk..."

"Shut up, all of you," Linda hissed. "We've done enough damage and Frankie looks just fine," she finished as the door closed behind the two kids.