Taking Chances by John Goode

that and look at me?”
    She did turn to look at me, and I felt even worse when I saw the hurt and anger in her eyes. “What do you want me to say, Matt? That I’m not mad? That you didn’t hurt my feelings—again—by assuming I’m prying into your life? What do you want to hear? Tell me so I can tell you and then get this pie served.”
    “I didn’t say you were prying.” Which was about the most lame sentence I could have come up with. We both knew it. Of course I had thought she was prying, but denying it was the only thing that came to mind. She crossed her arms and shot me an angry stare, which told me she wasn’t buying it either. “Okay,” I amended before she could explode. “I guess I did. But you seem to think I’m always miserable and need help to make me less miserable when I’m not miserable in the first place.”
    “Yes you are, Matthew,” she responded frankly. “You’re miserable. You have been since you realized you were gay, and we both know it. You know, Matt, some parents disown their children when they come out of the closet. Those parents turn their backs on their own flesh and blood because of who they love. If the worst thing you can complain about in your life is that your mother is concerned for your well-being, then you have it a lot better than most. Are we done?”
    I felt like my face had been slapped.
    “Why does everyone insist on thinking I’m miserable all the time?” I asked, anger creeping into my voice. “Shouldn’t I be the one who knows what I am and am not?”
    “ Tha t is the problem,” she threw back at me. “You and that horrid woman you pal around with have convinced yourself you aren’t, but you are, and it has you stalled. Here you are at an age where you should be thinking about what you’re going to do with the rest of your life, and you’re still hanging out in bars!”
    “And where else am I supposed to meet guys, Mom?” I asked her. Suddenly I didn’t care how I sounded. “Do you know a magical place where gay men congregate so I can meet them?”
    She didn’t back off an inch. “Yes. You can be introduced to them by family and friends, say, over vacation.”
    I just stood there stunned, not only by how right she was, but by the staggering amount of wrong I had been.
    “You are your own worst enemy, Matthew. You always have been,” she added with real regret in her voice. “In your entire life, has one person been mean to you about being gay? Ever? I mean, think about it for a second. Have your brothers ever been mean to you because of it? Your dad? Me? Matt, the only person who has a problem with you being gay is you, and I don’t know why and I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. That’s up to you.” She turned and picked up the tray with the pie and plates on it. “Come get some dessert.”
    She stalked out and left me standing there, wondering when exactly my life had broken away from me.

Tyler
     
     
    T HE rest of the night passed with the same sense of awkwardness that can come up during the holidays when all the family gossip has been exchanged and there’s still a long time left for conversation that no one seems to be comfortable with.
    Matt assured me everything was okay, but it was pretty obvious it wasn’t. His family spent the rest of the night talking and catching up while Matt sat in the corner and nursed his eggnog. John let out a huge yawn and announced it was time for him to hit the sack, and the rest of us used it as a signal the night was over.
    “I’m going to stay over at Tyler’s,” Matt told his parents as they cleared the dishes out of the dining room.
    His dad raised an eyebrow but said nothing, while his mom tried to pretend she didn’t care but hid a smile nonetheless. “Well then, you boys be safe,” Mr. Wallace said after a few seconds. Matt got red and his father coughed. “I meant getting home.” They both tried to recover from their embarrassment while all of us tried to figure out what to