Page 140 of Boyfriend Material
“Hey,” protested Christopher. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“For fuck’s sake. The fact you think there’s sides is the entire fucking problem.”
I went gladly back to Oliver and snuck my hand into his. “Do you want to…give me a tour maybe?”
“Of course, Lucien. I’m sorry I’ve neglected you.”
“Actually, I think you’ll find I ran away from you. Because it was likeGunfight at the O.K. Corralback there, and I thought I was going to get caught in the verbal crossfire.”
“I’m… I…I know. I’m very aware I’m behaving badly.” He glanced back to his sister-in-law. “Mia, I really do apologise. It won’t happen again.”
We left the marquee and went for what would, under other circumstances, have been a nice walk around the garden. It was a bright, summery day, and I’d had champagne, and there were flowers and butterflies, but Oliver was vibrating like my gentleman’s massager without the fun side.
“I’m sorry,” he said, for about the thousandth time. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“Come on, I’m not doing that badly.”
“No, I mean. I’m not at my best. And I don’t want you to see me not at my best.”
“Oliver, you’ve seen me having all kinds of freak-outs. I think I can handle you being a bit snarky at a garden party.”
He got even more vibratey. “I knew I shouldn’t have worn this shirt.”
The problem was, he’d said that about every shirt, and he’d tried twelve—nearly making us not ridiculously early in the process. “For the last time, the shirt is fine.” I stopped and tugged him round so we were facing each other. “You know, we can go home if you want to?”
He looked at me as if I’d suggested a murder-suicide pact. “We’ve barely got here. What would my parents think?”
“Right now, I don’t really care. All I know is that being here is making you unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy. It’s my parents’ anniversary. I’m not…handling things very well.”
I wasn’t sure how to say “You’re not handling things very well because your parents are being arseholes to you.” I wasn’t even sure it was my place. So instead I tried, “I don’t think it’s you. I mean, Christopher isn’t exactly covering himself in glory either.”
“Christopher is always covered in glory. At least as far as our parents are concerned.”
“You mean, apart from the fact they keep pressuring him to have kids when he clearly doesn’t want kids?”
“That’s aimed at me, not him. My parents are very understanding about my sexuality, but I can’t help but be aware that it has come with attendant disappointments.”
“Look”—I flung up my hands—“this is purely hypothetical because it is way too early in the relationship for this conversation, but if you want kids, you can have kids.”
“You mean, I could adopt children. That’s not the same thing. At least, not from my parents’ perspective.”
Okay, this was a whole other can of problematic worms. And now was not the time to open it. “You see, this is why you need queer friends. If you knew more gay people, you could always cut a deal with a lesbian.”
“If you’re trying to be funny, Lucien, this is in poor taste.”
“Sorry, that got flippant. I’m just trying to say that you can liveyourlife howeveryouwant. And your parents’ expectations shouldn’t factor into that. And I’ll bet you any money you like that Chris and Mia are having this exact same conversation right now.”
He iced up. “I very much doubt that.”
“Oh for—”
A fork tinkled against a glass and we dutifully drifted over the patio, where David and Miriam were standing with about-to-make-a-speech faces on. Joy.
“Thank you,” began David, “thank you all for coming to help Miriam and myself celebrate our Ruby Wedding Anniversary. I remember the evening all those years ago when I walked into our common room at the LSE, and I saw the most ravishing woman I’d ever imagined sitting across the way from me. And I said to myself, right then,that’s the lady I’m going to marry.” A pause. A joke was coming, wasn’t it? Rumbling towards us like a disappointing freight train. “And Miriam was two seats away from her.”
We all laughed dutifully. Except Uncle Jim, who seemed to find it legitimately hilarious.
