6: Unwelcoming Home

The doorbell continued ringing incessantly.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Jeez! Give me a chance to put on a damn robe.” Rudolf Morgan hurried down the stairs, his robe trailing behind him as he struggled to fasten it. His wife, Ruth, trailed behind.

Jacob stepped out of his room. “Be careful. You never know who it might be, especially at this hour.”

“I know how to use a peep hole, Jacob.” Rudolf finally got his robe fastened. The intrusion started with someone knocking and then pounding on the door. They switched to the door bell, starting with a single buzz, before progressing to a constant ringing.

Leaning in, Rudolf checked who it was, and opened the door.

“Thanks, Mr. Morgan. I appreciate it. I realize how late it is, but didn’t know where else to turn. I was afraid you were asleep.”

“No, you took care of that. What are you doing here at this time of night? Have you been drinking?”

“No, sir, but it’s been a long night.” Taylor stepped inside, glancing around. Seeing Jacob, he acknowledged him, but turned to his father. “Can I talk to the entire family? I’ve ... I’ve got something to ask.”

Ruth rushed down the stairs. “What happened to your face, Taylor? Were you in a fight?”

“It wasn’t really a fight. Although I got hit, I didn’t retaliate, so I took most of the damage.”

“Let me get you some ice.” She hurried from the room. “Jacob, get the medical kit.”

Seeing everyone moving in different directions, Taylor patiently waited. When he closed and locked the door, Rudolf reconsidered him.

“Have a seat. Your shirt’s torn and has ... blood on it.”

“No thanks, Mr. Morgan. The blood is from my own nose. I’m afraid if I sit, I’ll mess up your couch. I can stand. I’ve been hurt worse during practice.”

Ruth reentered the room, waving a bag of frozen peas. “Here, put this against your eye. We’ll take a look at your nose and that eye when Jacob returns.”

“What happened, Taylor? Should we call the police?”

“No, I’d rather not cause trouble. It was a ... onetime thing, and I don’t intend giving them a second chance at it.”

“Who are you talking about? Who did you get into a fight with?”

“I’ve got the medical kit,” Jacob said, reentering the living room. “You’re dripping blood on your shirt. Take it off. Let’s see if there’s any other damage.”

Taylor waved, trying to slow everyone down. “There’s plenty of time for that later. I’m not injured. It was just a single lucky blow, but I’ve ... got something to ask.” When they surrounded him, waiting, he continued. “Can I spend a few ... days with you. My parents and I had a bit of a ... disagreement.”

“Your father hit you?” Jacob asked, rushing forward to hold him. Taylor backed up.

“Don’t. I’m not hurt, but I might start bleeding again if you squeeze me wrong.”

The hell with that, I’ll take my chances,” Jacob said, wrapping his arms around him.

“If your parents hit you, we should definitely call the police!” Ruth insisted.

Taylor sighed, settling into Jacob’s hug. “No, as I said, there was a single punch thrown in the heat of anger. This wasn’t abuse, we had a ... scene.” Taking a deep breath, he started again. “They had an unexpected guest while I was out. It seems an old boyfriend stopped by, asking about me. My parents never had a clue about my sexuality until then. The stupid kid was so nervous he didn’t pick up on my family’s reactions. He explained how we knew each other. When I arrived home, he was long gone, and the whole family lit into me.”

Jacob pulled back, considering him. “I thought you’d never dated before?”

“No, I said I was still a virgin. We met during a Boy Scout retreat years ago. All we did was make out, but ... it was his first homosexual encounter and apparently he never forgot it. He saw my name in the sports section and came to see if we could build a new romance.” Taylor sighed, shrugging. “Seems he’s like you—he couldn’t imagine anyone remaining in the closet. My folks weren’t exactly pleased.”

Jacob stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt. “We’ll work through the details later. Let’s get you out of these and into some new clothes.”

Taylor let him continue, but focused on his father. “What do you say, sir, can I stay? It’s late and I’d rather not tell anyone else what happened. I ... doubt my folks will change their mind. They were pretty adamant.”

“Of course you can stay,” Jacob assured him.

Taylor wouldn’t take his word for it, searching Ruth and Rudolf’s faces.

“You don’t even need to ask,” he said. “Though we might need to rearrange a few things.”

“Nonsense,” Ruth insisted, carefully dabbing his face with a damp washcloth. “You can stay in Jacob’s room. We’ll pick up a separate bed tomorrow.”

Shrugging, Rudolf changed the topic. “We can pick up your school supplies tomorrow. You’ll have to decide how much of your stuff you want to move out. Your parents will likely change their minds, given enough time.”

Taylor, holding the bag of peas to his eye as Jacob removed his shirt, shook his head. “That’s unlikely. They’re ... rabidly homophobic. Unless I renounce my homosexuality, they’re unlikely to allow me back in the house. This,” he said, indicated his facial injuries “were my father’s frustrations. Once he punched me he backed off and I got out of there.”

“I don’t know,” Ruth said. “It looks pretty serious. I’m guessing you’ll have a shiner in the morning.”

Jacob stopped in front of him, as if defending Taylor. “I agree. You need to give them leeway. Whatever their views now, it’s always a shock the first time someone in your family comes out. They need time to adjust.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow. “How long was it before your parents accepted that you were gay?”

Ruth laughed. “Honey, we knew long before he ever said anything. When he finally did, we’d already read all the literature on how to respond.”

“When you’re as flamboyant as I am, there’s little doubt,” Jacob said, laughing himself. “But that doesn’t matter. There’s still an adjustment period. My parents’ was just more gradual than usual. They had more time to adapt than yours. Your parents just need time. There’s no telling how much they’ll need, but it’s familiarity which has won us so much acceptance. As more people discover the gays in their own family, they eventually come around. Once they do, it becomes personal for them. My parents attend the LGBT parades with me, even while I’m wearing those flamboyant outfits you dislike so much. Hell, I’ve met the parents and siblings of men who died from AIDS. Ten, twenty years later, they still attend those events. Once converted, their commitment is real. It stands the test of time. Give them a chance, they’ll come around.”

“You don’t understand my family,” Taylor said, shaking his head. “My father is ... a real macho dude. He pushed me to excel in football because he thought it would make me a man. If a gay character appears on a TV show, he’ll storm out of the room. Hell, once he threw a beer at the TV. We had to buy a replacement. He never explicitly said so, but I’ve always believed he assaulted a couple gay men when he was younger.” He shook his head. “He won’t get over this. What’s more, neither will the rest of my family. My mother isn’t as adamant, but she’s also not as functional. They both drink, but my mom’s an alcoholic. This is likely to crank up her addiction several notches, so she’s unlikely to change her mind any time soon. And don’t mention my younger sister, Caitlyn. She’s as bad as my father.”