Frankie Fever

“My first relationship with a guy was an absolute mess,” Bert confessed “It was barely worthy of the title ‘relationship’.”

“What happened?” I questioned.

We’d dried off and were now wandering through the town together. We’d bought a bag of hot donuts and were happily nibbling on those together.

“Well, I was in my junior year,” Bert began, taking a bite of donut “He was a senior and we met through a mutual friend at this party - a couple of pals decided to play matchmaker. And we hit it off. He was gorgeous but mad as a hatter. Messed up school for me but I didn’t care at the time - I’ve asked to re-do my junior year next year.”

“And you just kind of went along with it?” I asked curiously, sitting on a bench.

“Completely. He had me wrapped around his little finger,” Bert laughed “I guess we were always destined to fail. Especially after my parents caught us in bed together. He was freaked, I was mortified and my Mom and Dad had no idea what to make of it.”

“Were they mad?” I asked sympathetically.

“Nah, not really. We avoided each other for a week or so and eventually I decided to be an adult and went to talk with them about it. Mom cried and Dad was clearly uncomfortable. I just kind of begged them to try and understand and support me and I gave them that ‘It’s still me, I’m the same person’ stuff. And now we’re like a house on fire,” He finished proudly.

“That’s great,” I smiled, feeling inspired.

He smiled and rested his head on my shoulder. I shyly put an arm around his shoulders. It was a nice day. No one seemed too bothered by our display of affection. I’d always imagined everyone was either gay or homophobic. I was afraid of homophobia. I’d heard stories about what happened to “boys like us.”

“How are your parents about it?” He asked.

I shrugged, taking another bite of my donut, giggling as he poked the tip of my nose with his donut.

“I think they’re more concerned about their own problems than anything else. They don’t seem to take much notice of what Mikey and I do.”

“If your Dad didn’t care about you, why would he come back?” He asked intelligently.

“He was bored of Serena. And my Mom was the only woman he could definitely turn to.”

“Are you sure about that?” Bert asked “Only because he was thinking about himself?”

I hesitated.

“Why don’t you try sitting down with them both and telling them to sort themselves out? Make sure they’re aware of the negative effect they’re having on you and your brother, you said he carved your Dad’s name into his bedroom wall?” I nodded to confirm this for him “Well, remind them of that. Tell them they need to sort this out for you and Mikey if not for themselves.”

Bert made sense. I couldn’t deny it. I’d overlooked the simple method of talking to my parents. I’d done everything to avoid it. Maybe sometimes simple is best.

“I think I will,” I smiled at him “You know, you’ve been really helpful today. You’re really something special.”

He smiled shyly, his cheeks tinting pink. I’d made him blush. I resisted the urge to chuck his chin playfully in order to avoid embarrassing him even more.

He lifted a bit of donut for me to eat.

“You’re really sweet,” He complimented back “And you’re really mature for your age. I like you.”

My turn to blush.

“I’d love it if we could do this again,” He said with a smile hopeful smile.

“You’re asking me out?”

“Yeah, I guess I am. If you’d have told me before I started going to that Christian thing that I’d end up asking a kid eighteen months younger than me out, I would have laughed it off. But I do like you, Gerard. Genuinely.”

And if someone had told me the previous day that I’d be getting a phone call in a few hours from- SORRY, SORRY!

“I like you too,” I smiled “I’d love it if we could see each other again.”

His smile could have lit up the whole of New Jersey and New York.

* * *

“Mom? Dad?” I said timidly, dithering in the doorway.

They were both silent and staring into space. Mom was perched on the edge of the sofa, her arms around herself and her hair all over the place. Dad was clutching a glass and a bottle of vodka, steadily drinking and refilling. This was an absolute mess. A home life shouldn’t look like this at all.

“What is it, son?” Dad grumbled from his chair.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Mom asked weakly.

Say it.

I opened my mouth but no words came out.

Say it.

I tried again but there was a huge knot in my stomach.

Say it, you prick!

“Look, Gerard, if you and Mikey are hungry, just get a take away,” Dad said sharply “Neither of us can be bothered to cook.”

It came from nowhere. A swelling of anger and determination. We were going to talk, whether they liked it or not.

I marched in with a sudden burst of confidence and snatched Dad’s vodka from him, putting it on the coffee table.

He looked up at my cold expression with surprise.

“Oh,” He began awkwardly “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” I said casually “You.”

“Me?”

I nodded slowly.

“Well what is it?” Dad demanded “I’m fed up enough as it is. I don’t want to play your silly mind games.” He reached for his bottle.

I snatched it away once more, keeping a firm grip on the bottle. My stare was hard, clearly making him feel awkward.

I had something to say and he was going to listen. Maybe I was a little harsh, looking back on it. But sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. No other method seemed to work with Dad. Time to try straight cold honesty.

“You can start by apologising to Mom,” I said firmly, inclining my head towards Mom.

“For what?”

“Sleeping around, treating her like dirt, running off and then having the nerve to come back and treat her like something disgusting all over again!”

“Like she didn’t do the same-”

“No, she didn’t, Dad,” I snapped “You know why? Because the man she loves had run off with her younger apprentice and she was now stuck with two children, bills, grocery shopping and house mortgage to worry about. And that’s just some of the many things she had to worry about.”

He seemed genuinely shocked. No one had ever spoken to him like this. It was a serious wake up call.

Slowly, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and began to light up. I wrinkled my face in disgust as he exhaled smoke all over me. I remember in New York, I had this friend called Jon. He had two little sisters and a little brother. His Dad smoked and drank too. But his dad would go into the garden for a cigarette and he’d wait until the little kids were sleeping before getting a beer.

I can’t remember Dad ever doing that. In fact, Mikey used to imitate him having a cigarette with a piece of paper when he was four. He thought it was normal.

“Look at yourself,” I said coldly “You’re crap. You never wanted to be maternal and I don’t think you ever will. You don’t seem to do monogamy very well, either.”

His mouth fell open.

I sat back calmly and waited for him to speak. He looked like a goldfish, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Mom seemed shocked too. She’d never thought about it, I guess. She was so desperate to keep her marriage that she hadn’t thought about Dad’s good and bad qualities.

She spoke up timidly.

“Gerard I’m not sure you should talk to your fa-”

“Hang on a minute, Mom,” I said calmly, not breaking my stare on Dad.

Finally, he found some words.

“Are-are you saying. . . I’m a bad father?”

“And husband,” I corrected “I want you to stop pointing the finger like a child and work on fixing things with Mom. This isn’t fair on me and Mikey. Look at what’s been happening to Mikey. Twelve years old and he’s practically borderline depressive. And it’s because of you!”

I turned to Mom. She looked frightened.

“You need to stop being a doormat, Mom,” I said firmly “Dad walks all over you and seems to think he can get away with anything because you let him! Just don’t give in. If he nags at you, just keep saying no. It’s not hard, I promise.”

I got up and walked to the doorway to leave. I surveyed them both. Mom, sitting with her arms folded protectively and Dad looked stunned like a rabbit.

“You need to talk together - not shout. And you need to listen to each other! In short, communicate. Because things aren’t working at the moment and it’s not doing anyone any good! Mikey and I still want you both. But we want you together!”

I left the room with my words still thick in the air and fresh in their minds.