Page 39 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

Me: You’ll be okay. I’m not that special. You’ll find someone else.

Carl: Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re everything I want and need. Trust me, little one.

I lie back on my pillow and close my eyes. He reached out to me again, so maybe he is as serious as he claimed. Plus, I’m so tired of turning him down. Why shouldn’t I deserve to be happy? And Carl makes me happy. It may not work out, but if I don’t give us a chance, I’ll never know.

Me: I can meet you on Saturday.

Carl: Thank you, you’ve made me so happy. Let me know where and when. Sleep now. You must be tired.

Me: Goodnight, Carl.

Carl: I can’t wait for you to call me Daddy again. x

He’s jumping ahead of himself, but a lightness in my chest chases away the ache in my heart. I put my phone on my bedside table, and sleep claims me.

I’m walking on air after finally meeting Spencer and talking to him again. But when I enter the showroom, every smile and happy thought disappear. Nate. He’s talking to Debbie, but as soon as he sees me, a scowl flits over his face. He obviously hasn’t got over what he found out and my subsequent anger at him last night.

“I’d like to talk to you in my office, please, Nate.” I motion for him to go ahead. “Hold my calls, Debbie.”

“Good morning, Carl, and certainly.” She smiles and gets back to her computer screen.

I step past Nate, who has the decency to stay standing when I sit behind my desk.

“Have a seat, Nate.” I wait until he’s settled. “How many sexual partners have you had?”

Nate blushes and looks at his feet. “Um, really, Dad, are we having this conversation?”

“We are. So how many?” I rest my elbows on the table and steeple my fingers, tapping them on my mouth.

“About eight or ten.” He lifts his chin like a defiant teenager. “Why?”

“How old were they?”

He squirms in his seat. “Christ, Dad, I don’t know. The youngest was eighteen, I think. The oldest maybe a year older than me.”

“Would I have liked them? Did you ever stop and consider ‘what would my dad think’ of my choice tonight?”

“No, you never entered my head at all. Why should you? It’s private. Who I sleep with is none of your business.” He pulls his shoulders back, eyes flashing. He’s pissed off now. Good. I am too. He still hasn’t connected the dots and worked out where I’m going with this. And that’s what kids do when they’re confronted by a parent. They fight back without thinking of the consequences.

“Yet last night you thought you had the right to an opinion on who I choose to take to my bed. You made it your business. Why, Nathan? Why is that?”

He blanches and swallows hard. “How would you feel if I started going out with someone your age?” He pouts like a petulant child.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you really think that if they made you the happiest you’d been in over ten years, I’d be against it?” I lower my hands and place them flat on the table.

“Did he make you feel like that? The happiest in years?”

“He did. We got on well together. I want to see him again so much, but after our first night, he’d figured out you are my son, and he ended our relationship, or what was the start of our relationship. He hadn’t told me why until last night. And then you were there. Care to tell me what you object to?”

He blushes again, scrubbing his nape, a nervous habit he’s had for years. “I…I was surprised. I’d never have thought you were interested in men my age. It’s even weirder because I know him.”

“You knew him. You left that school when you were fourteen because your mum wanted you to go to another school. You haven’t seen Spencer since. You don’t know him, Nate, not as he is now. But you hurt and embarrassed him last night, and I raised you better than that.”

“I never really thought about you being gay and equated it with other men. It was what broke up you and Mum. I know that. And I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to finally admit who you are, and I admire you for it. But last night put the sex aspect into it, and that’s not something I want to think of my parents doing.” He grimaces but still manages to look contrite.

I laugh despite the gravity of the situation. “Parents think the same thing about their kids, you know. We never like to think about them being sexually active. To us, it’s equally weird.”

“I should apologise to Spencer,” he says quietly.

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