Boxing with Momma

Dear Tallulah,

I could only be writing this to you since you have a very tight grasp on the fact that I am a big boy and am not looking for sympathy. There are times in life when one is presented with a situation where one must simply “Suck it up” and move on. I say this in reference to the last three weeks. Am I going to "Suck it up" and move on? I am still plotting my next move, so I don't know yet. Yes, the In-laws finally left, early Saturday morning. I was awake for most of the night before their departure, in reposed anticipation…and when their car door slammed and then I saw the last bit of tail lights disappear around the corner as they left my neighborhood, I had a delicious chill creep up my lower back and spread between my shoulder blades…that always happens when my nipples get hard.

I had almost skipped out on the second week of their visit and wanted to go down to Tacoma to visit my lil Opihi...except, I KNEW that Kevin's mother was perched, ready to pounce on such an opportunity to do something like invite that cute female bank clerk she met in town over for dinner to MY house...hoping she could set something in motion with Kevin that I could not stop. Yes, this was how she was operating!

I kinda just stood there a moment, in the empty driveway, gauging my instinct to rail Kevin into the nearest wall and ram my frustrations through his breast plate against my need for peace and quiet. I looked at Kevin, who was still waving to a car that was no longer in sight. I rolled my eyes hard enough to hear what my mother used to say, “Keep it up, you face will freeze like that.” So I closed my eye lids and imagined the suction like release of my eye balls from somewhere near my pituitary gland. Knowing I would need to gather strength for the post In-law “clean up”, I made my way upstairs to the bedroom I had pretended was mine for the last 21 days, flopped on the bed and let my war weary mind drift over the highlights of the last three weeks. And that's how I feel now....War weary. Like I was tensed and needed to be en-garde for three weeks.

Now, I know there are concessions made in every relationship. I would not believe any couple who told me otherwise. I have been in relationships with liars, addicts and plain old misfit bad boys. I have also gotten out of all those relationships. When I met Kevin, I knew he was law abiding, decent, honest, and on the ‘vanilla’ side of life. He had a successful career and wasn’t a gold digger. He rarely swears and I knew he loved his mother. Did I know she had a strangle hold over him and that she had long ago replaced the apron strings with bungee cords? No. Had I known - would it have made a difference? No. Even now, staring at the ceiling of a guest bedroom in my own home, I was actually thinking, “It’s over. Is this a battle I am wise in choosing?” All I could think about was confronting Kevin. BUT, how to do so without seeming like I was trying to pit him against his mother...his mother, who could do no wrong, in his eyes...it was going to take alot of thought before approaching this battle.
The first couple of days of thier visit was like a slow warm up, a gradual snow ball effect took place as Mary did little things that in and of themselves didn’t seem to warrant any confrontation. She took my place, my spot on the sofa…but we have two sofas and a love seat…and she’s a guest. She took the front passenger seat in the car when we went out…my seat…but she’s a guest. She kept bringing up the fact that Kevin needs to find a wife and work on grandchildren. Then the news came on with a story about gay people protesting in Seattle and she sees some men holding hands on TV and says, “Disgusting!” I know what kind of power that wields when a son, who is gay and in hiding, hears his mother make a comment like that. You think, “My God, if she knew about me, that means she’ll think I’m disgusting.” I heard my mother do that too…and I had enough by age 16…and Kevin’s 46…that’s fucked up!

I admit, after Round one, when I called Kevin’s mother, an idiot, I had to stop and reassess things. I spoke to Courtney and she agreed that Mary was operating with one hand tied behind her back. So, does the fact that she SUPPOSEDLY doesn’t know I’m gay and that I am entering into the sixth year of a relationship with her son, excuse her bad manners? Suppose I was blind and spend three weeks telling nigger jokes…would that be ok? Because I didn’t KNOW I was being offensive? Is that why I had to sit around and listen to her negative banter about gays?

Here are the facts: Kevin hasn’t had a ‘girlfriend’ in at least 7 years and I have been with him for 5. He had never lived with anyone until he met me. He retired from the military and moved to Washington State for his new job and I ‘followed’. We shop together, I cook for us, Kevin does our laundry, and everyone knows this, including Kevin's mom. How could anyone NOT know what’s going on between us? I can’t answer that except to say that they know, but they remain highly confused by Kevin’s frequent and adamant denial of it...and until there is a confirmation, they operate under the hopes that Kevin will still find the right girl and settle down. The whole visit was like a three week long battle of wills, played out behind Kevin and Kevin's stepfather, Archie’s back. Who was more important?….who REALLY ruled the roost?…Was Mary going to "turn" Kevin straight, or was I already entrenched too deeply....that's what the battle felt like. I honestly felt that Mary did not come to visit Washington to look for a new home, like she said. She came to investigate, stir up some shit, and see what she could get away with.

Round Two: Before they arrived I prepared their bedroom and bathroom…the same one you stayed in and used when you visited. They THINK, that I clear out that bathroom and take up residence in the master bath with Kevin to accommodate them. In reality, ever since their last visit, I never did re-occupy the guest bath after I had to make room for them. It was too much of a pain to move and clean every time we had guests. So when they arrived, they were shown their room and their bathroom. Having run my parents Bed and Breakfast for so long, I tend to overdo on the details a little bit….rolled washcloths on the counter, new soap and toothpaste laid out…toilet paper folded to a neat little point…flowers placed on the back of the toilet…hand lotion, cotton balls, ear swabs…all placed strategically for a pleasant visit. Besides, I'm gay...c'mon! So it's THEIR bathroom. Day four of their visit, Kevin told me that his mother was using our shower, in the master bathroom because she liked it better than hers.
“What?! I don’t want her using our bathroom.” I said. “Did she ask…did you say it was ok?” What the Fuck?! When did she do this!? Where the hell was I?!
“No.” Kevin replied. “She likes ours better because it has the built in seats and she likes to sit down and bathe, I guess.”
Then he shrugged, as if to say, “That’s mom.” and walked out of the room.
I had to think for a minute. Would I ever walk through someone’s master bedroom, into their private bath and use it if I was staying in someone else’s home…after I had been given a bathroom of my own…without asking? Was my family strange in that way? Was I missing something that I didn't understand? Would I even do that at my parent’s house? No. No. And, No!! I marched downstairs to interrupt the fourth day of another Golden Girls marathon. I addressed both Mary and Archie.
“Which one of you is using the master bathroom?” I asked in a light, curious tone…looking at Mary.
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong with your bathroom?” I tried again, dropping some of the light tone of voice.
“Nothing’s wrong with it, why?” Hmmm...I dropped the light tone and she picked it up! The non-admission of guilt did not escape me. I took one glove off…
“Because, if I wanted to share a bathroom with you guys, I wouldn’t have cleared mine out so you could have a bathroom of your own.” I offered.
No response. Archie clearly had no idea what I was talking about and Mary could see there was no way to be rescued by him.
“I mean, if I came to San Diego and stayed with you, and you gave me my own bathroom to use, It would never occur to me to just help myself to your private bathroom…” I was already taking my second glove off….
Mary cut in, “You could use whatever bathroom you wanted…..”
“Well, that’s just odd, Mary” I continued. “I know I would at least ask first…and if you like the shower, this bathroom downstairs has the exact same one …why don’t you use it? Have you lain in my bed yet? You might like my mattress better than the one in your room.” I arched my right eyebrow for emphasis. I quickly ran the whole thing through my head again…it was no use…IT WAS ODD. Was she testing Kevin, or testing me? Was she trying to prove something to herself or me? I gave up on guessing the motive….it was just fucking weird! I knew her oft repeated refrain, “I’m your mother, I can do what I want.” was perched on the tip of her lips and she was at a loss for an excuse. Yeah, you're not MY mom.

Mary turned to Archie, “You better not use that bathroom again!” she shot at him. Archie still didn’t know what was going on…and he returned his attention to Sofia and Dorothy and Rose, after shooting me a puzzled glance and waving his hand in our direction...clearly indicating this was between Mary and me.

In our little battle of Who Rules the Roost, that was as good an apology as I could expect. Not exactly a knock out…but technically….it was. I still couldn’t believe that Kevin was unwilling to set this boundary. I know that often children can do no wrong in their parents eyes, but I never knew it happened in reverse.

Mary and Archie stayed in their pajamas for the majority of their stay. Mary, stayed up until sometimes 2am and slept in. Archie was up at dawn. By 10am they were both downstairs, monopolizing the TV and the computer. Around 2’oclock, Kevin would make his 8th or 9th call home to see what they were doing and to say he’d be home in an hour. I waited anxiously for that phone call every day. As if AT&T reached through the phone and inserted a firecracker in their butts, and then lit it, they would hang up with Kevin and go upstairs to shower and get dressed. Well, they started to get ready...the entire process would last until about 5pm. It was like his arrival home signaled the sun to shine and the day to begin. They never went out further than Walmart, or the video store, but it gave me an hour alone while they were gone and I looked forward to it. I usually ended up in the Kitchen making dinner during this time, but it didn’t matter, I was alone.

I had no way of knowing that Round 3 would take place because an omelette.

TO BE CONTINUED…