Educating Alex

BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND

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I think a much needed break from writing - and from Alex and Ryan in particular - has done me the world of good, and I'm pretty happy again with the way this story is going. So, in a moment of inspiration, I have hammered out this twelfth chapter, despite all my dire pronouncements about ending the story for good. So, here it is, the next part. Read this, and I hope it will be a satisfactory continuation to by far the most popular story I've ever written. For those who are seeking them, and can't find them in the absence of my website, my other stories are: Mark and Josh (Beginnings), Copier Guy (Beginnings) and New to this State (High School).

Incidentally, my old site - ardveche.com - has been registered again by someone else and is now being used as a gateway site for straight porn! I have NOTHING whatever to do with this and am more than a little pissed off by it. Though, presumably they thought there would be a lot of hits on that name, so it is, almost, vaguely flattering on one level. The point is, however, that I disavow all knowledge of the site. I hope to get a new Ardveche website back up soon, now that I am finding the time to write again. And since I wrote that, I've done precisely that: www.ardveche.co.uk is now active(ish).

DISCLAIMER

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This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2003 - ardveche@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between adult males:

• if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

Now, if everyone who is still here is meant to be here or at least aware they shouldn't be, let's get on with it. All comments are welcome and gratefully received (email them to ardveche@hotmail.com).

EDUCATING ALEX XII

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Once Alex was happy with the arrangement of my luggage we both climbed into his car and started off on what may well have been the longest journey of my life. And I don't just mean it because it was the first step on the road to being five thousand miles away! We didn't exchange a great deal of conversation on the way to the airport, I was too lost in thought and Alex was too busy concentrating on his driving, so we passed the time in silence.

"Well, here we are, handsome," he finally announced as we arrived at the airport parking lot.

"Yeah, I can tell."

"Huh?"

"Well the planes landing and taking off are a bit of a giveaway." I grinned weakly at him, aware myself that it wasn't funny, but it seemed to be enough for Alex.

"Good one." He grinned broadly at me, good old supportive Alex. "Well, we'd better get moving." He continued, glancing at his watch.

With a resigned sigh I hauled myself out of the car, wishing abstractedly that Alex would do something about the saggy passenger seat. We got my bags out and, relying completely on him to get me to the right place, headed for the terminal building. When it comes to this sort of thing I am utterly useless, my sense of direction is practically non-existent. The fact that I was wandering around as though I was spaced was not helping, of course. Several times as we jumped through the various hoops involved in checking in Alex had to place a guiding hand on the handle at the top of my backpack and steer me gently in the right direction. If he hadn't I'd have kept walking in whatever direction I had last been pointing. Guess I was a little preoccupied.

"Well, this is it." Alex's calm voice broke into my reverie, but did I detect a note in his tone that was not normally present. I turned to face him.

"Yes, here we are." I agreed, looking into his eyes. He smiled faintly, wistfully, and I took a little step closer to him as he held out both arms and I stepped into the warmth and security of his embrace. As his arms closed around me the airport sounds and smells faded completely and, not for the first time, I felt the universe contract until it consisted of the two of us and nothing more.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Ry."

"Me too." I managed to squeak, trying not to let myself cry here.

"I love you."

"I know you do." I snuffled, my fight not going well. "I love you too."

"But I'll see you again real soon."

"I know, still..." I allowed the sentence to dangle unfinished.

"And I'll call every day."

"I know you will, you big lug." I answered, raising my head and smiling at him once more.

"Just leaving the country isn't enough to shake me off."

"I don't want to." I replied with feeling.

"Ah, you say that now." He countered with his trademark mischievous grin. "But you'll probably meet the son of a duke or something over there."

"Yeah, maybe, but he won't be anything like you."

"If you're lucky he won't!" He laughed aloud and I had to smile back. Alex, as I know I've said many times, has a real knack of making me forget my worries. Albeit temporarily. We continued to stand there for a few moments longer, ignoring everyone and everything around me, until Alex spoke again. "You're boarding."

"Huh?"

"They called your flight, its time to get on the plane."

"Hmm?" I realized I wasn't making a whole lot of sense right then, but I had drifted off into my own thoughts again.

"It time you fly, big silver bird." Alex said slowly and clearly for me, a smile playing on his perfect lips.

"Funny." I said with a snort. "Okay, I should get going."

"Let's not do this again." He answered when I failed to let go or move away. "Go, get on the plane, go home."

"I don't wanna."

"Tough, you have to." He released his grip and gently pushed me away. "If I have to carry you on board things could get real ugly."

"Oh I don't know sounds sort of romantic. In a totally fucked up way. Better if I got on and you stormed aboard and carried me off." I made a face at him.

"Okay, you're boring me now." He said in a soft voice, and I knew he wasn't serious. "I'm gonna kiss you and then I'm gonna leave. Because if I don't there's gonna be a scene."

"Okay." I managed to croak.

And, without another word, he did just that. I was pulled back into glorious proximity with my boyfriend and our lips met as we kissed long and slow. Then, just as abruptly I was pushed away again, Alex's face was flushed and I knew from the warmth of mine that I was too. And was that maybe just a hint of moistness in his eyes? Yes, more than a hint, Alex was going to cry. He raised one hand and mock-punched me on the jaw, pushing my head lightly with his fist in one of his trademark gestures.

"Be safe, Ryan." He murmured, lowering his head so I couldn't clearly see his face, and then he turned and walked away into the crowds. I watched his back for a moment before I too turned and, in a daze, made my way onto the plane and into my seat. I barely heard the various announcements that were made as I sat, insulated in the fuzziness of my mind. I was about to leave Alex for the longest period of time since we had been together. And that was just the beginning. Shortly I would be leaving him for months. I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay, I wanted to say to hell with Oxford, I wanted my Alex. I wanted to cry, I wanted to curl up into a ball and for my world to end. No, I wanted the world to almost end and for him to come and hold me and make everything better. What a mess I was.

I gazed at the ring on my finger as the plane slowly dragged itself into the air and drew in a great shuddering breath as the tears slowly started to roll down my face. I turned to the window, partly so nobody would see my face, and thought about how my love was down there somewhere, also alone and also hurting. Why was I doing this? I was startled by a touch on my shoulder and a stewardess wordlessly held a box of paper tissues towards me, which I accepted gratefully and without a sound. She smiled gently at me and left me alone with my thoughts and my slowly, silently falling tears.

I know the flight took hours, same as it always had before, but it seemed mere seconds before the pilot announced our arrival, jerking me from my silent reverie. My tears had stopped some time earlier, there's only so much you can cry, but I knew my eyes would still be slightly red and puffy and it was with a heavy heart that I checked I still had everything and prepared to disembark and meet my mother. It occurred to me, in a vague sort of way, that I hadn't been home since Christmas of last year, but I couldn't seem to make myself care. My home life had been troubled since I came out and I had seen less and less of my parents since leaving for college, so these rare visits had become more of a chore than a vacation.

Struggling with the few bags I hadn't had shipped, I made my way through the terminal building, eyes firmly fixed on the tiled floor, I was startled by a shriek of "Ryan!" followed by an explosion of younger sister hurtling towards me. Off in the background, I could see my mother waiting patiently - mortified by the exhibition her daughter was making of herself in public! Part of me was pleased by my mother's obvious discomfiture, as my family has always been very undemonstrative.

"You look like shit, brother dearest." My tactful sister!

"I know." I replied with what I considered to be commendable honesty.

"Missing lover-boy?"

"Well, duh!"

"But you're here now, with your loving family!"

"Megan, you never told me you'd taken up comedy." I shot back, earning me a withering stare and a sad shake of her head - the kind of look that teenagers reserve exclusively for adults generally and dorky family members in particular.

"Sad." Was her pronouncement. "Come on, Mom's waiting."

"And we wouldn't want that." A little arch, perhaps, but justifiable. At least in my mind.

Megan took one of my bags and linked arms with me and we continued down the concourse to my waiting mother, who smiled in a passable imitation of fondness as we approached.

"Hello, darling, welcome home." She trilled at me. "How was your flight?" If she had noticed the redness of my eyes she was either ignoring it, or had put it down simply to tiredness. Of course, she had no reason to think anything else at this point, she knew that Alex and I were more than simply room-mates, but she had no idea about the level our relationship had reached in recent weeks - and certainly didn't know about the 'proposal'. That was a bombshell I had yet to drop. And, because I'm basically not such a nice person, I had planned to make the announcement at Christmas Dinner. That way I could tell the whole family in one go and they'd just have to deal, I am a real believer in immersion therapy! One thing was sure, I was not going to do it piecemeal, like I did when I was coming out.

"It was ok." I replied, noncommittally.

"Oh, that is good. Well, your father's at work still, so I thought we could put your bags in the car, and go into the city for dinner before we went home." She looked at us both expectantly. "That's if you're not too tired?"

"No, I'm fine. That sounds good." She was making an effort, so the onus was on me to do the same. Damn.

"Any preferences?" My mother continued as we walked across the parking lot. "I think there's a new Italian place opened up on Vine, but otherwise everything's the same as when you last were here."

"Italian!" Enthused, Meg, surprising nobody.

Personally, I was thinking about the word 'here' that my mother had just used. Was I being paranoid? Or should she have said 'home' instead? Probably. But then, as the title of Douglas Coupland's book points out: all families are psychotic. I know mine is. For the sake of preserving what little harmony there was in my family, I kept quiet and went along with the dinner plans. Even though, all I wanted to do was go and sit in a corner and cry some more. What a brave little soldier! So to dinner we went, and through dinner I endured. I did my level best to make conversation, but kept it light and insubstantial, mostly about college and the impending move to England. Inside, I couldn't wait to get home and go to bed - not because I was especially tired, but because I just wanted the day to be over.

When we got back to the house, I took long enough to say hello to my father, who was home by then and watching TV, before making my excuses and taking my bags up the stairs to my room. Which wasn't there. My room was full of the possessions of a teenage girl.

"Oh, did mom not tell you I moved into the bigger room?" Meg asked innocently, arriving at the top of the stairs behind me.

"No, she didn't."

"Well, you don't live here any more, do you?" She asked.

"No, I suppose not." I guess I couldn't have it both ways, I didn't really live there any more, and I didn't much want to. Still, it came as a bit of a shock to find that I had been moved out in my absence. Little did I know how much more of a shock I was in for. "I'm in your old room, then?"

"Yeah."

"OK." I walked the few pass down the hall and turned the handle of the door to Meg's old, smaller, room.

"Only now, its kinda the spare room." She said quietly, not meeting my gaze.

"So I see." I replied heavily. "Where's all my stuff?"

"Um, in the attic."

"Right." The room was not only empty of all my possessions, it was clearly not even principally a bedroom anymore. There was a desk and a PC in there and, certainly, it had a bed, but it was a fold out one. Meticulously made up, I grant you, but a fold out bed nonetheless. I really had been moved out. Completely. It looked more like a hotel room than my family home. For some absurd reason I felt a sudden urge to laugh out loud. It came out as a strangled, near-sobbing sound instead.

"Ryan, are you, ok?"

"Faintly hysterical, kid." I joked. "It's been a tough day."

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, touching my arm.

"Don't be. It's ok." I walked into the room and dumped my bags in the middle of the floor. "Meg, I'd really rather be alone, ok?"

"Yes, sorry." And so saying, she closed the door and left me alone in that starkly unwelcoming room. Alone with starkly unwelcome thoughts. Before me lay six days with these people who, other than my sister, clearly did not much want me there. The only thought that could possibly get me through that seeming aeon was the knowledge that on the seventh day I would be once again with Alex. As I unpacked the few belongings I was going to need for my stay my mind wandered, wondering what Alex was doing. He'd be home by now, back with the family that loved him so much. How jealous I was of them. How jealous I was of him. I wondered when and how he would tell them about me, how they would react, and my heart ached for him - knowing that he was probably feeling some of the loneliness that I was.

My own experience of coming out was a painful one. One which had culminated in me being here for a week in the home of strangers. I'm not a religious man, but I prayed that night that Alex's family would be more understanding, more accepting of his choices than mine had been. More fervently than I can recall having wanted anything, other than Alex himself, I wanted this to be as painless for him as it could be. Suddenly I wanted to hear his voice, I wanted to call him up and talk to him and have him tell me everything was all right.

Wrenching a heavy sigh from the very depths of myself I began to undress for bed. Big, cold, empty bed. I was pulling my T-shirt over my head when I thought I heard the phone ringing and I heaved another sigh, knowing it would be some well-meaning relative calling. The ringing continued, and slowly it dawned on me that it was coming from my jeans. My cell-phone, in fact. I didn't recognize the number, and considered simply switching it off.

"Hello?"

"Hey, handsome." I knew the voice instantly, of course, the accent much more noticeable on the phone. Alex.

"Alex! I was just thinking about you!"

"I know." His voice was calm, sure, utterly reliable sounding, just the way I needed him to be if I was to avoid crying again. Cheap jokes were my best hope.

"Oh, your psychic now?"

"Nah. I just know you're always thinking 'bout me." There was a slight chuckle in his tone, but before I could speak he continued in a more serious tone. "I know I was thinking 'bout you."

"God its so good to hear your voice." I said, sitting down on the bed.

"Yours too. I'm missing you already."

"Me too. I wish I'd never come home at all."

"I know. But it's only for a few days." That was something I'd been telling myself all day, somehow when Alex said it it was more convincing. I settled back against the pillows and we continued to talk. I was so glad to hear his voice - even after such a relatively short space of time. I have no idea what we talked about, nothing much, that I do know. But the next conscious memory I have is of an insistent beep in my ear - the battery in my phone telling me it was on its last legs.

"Alex, my phone's about to die."

"OK. Well, its nearly midnight anyway, so I should go!"

"It is?" That surprised me, where had almost two hours gone?

"Yup. You could talk for your country, Ry."

"Gee thanks." I tried to sound withering, but it wasn't working.

"You know its part of why I love you."

"I love you too, Alex." I whispered, feeling my tears returning. "So much."

"I know you do." He replied. My phone beeped again. Twice, a bad sign.

"Alex, we're about to get cut off."

"OK. I'll try to call you tomo..." And the line went dead.

"I love you." I mumbled to the insensate plastic. And I knew, with complete certainty, that hundreds of miles away Alex was doing exactly the same.

Resignedly, I finished undressing and crawled into bed, my mind full of only Alex. I didn't think I would be able to sleep, but presumably I did, because I was woken the following morning by the arrival of my sister, Megan, leaning over me with a mug of coffee in one hand. I was muzzy still with the tattered remains of a dream scuttling away from my conscious mind, and the disorientation of being in a strange environment can't have helped.

"Meg?"

"You were maybe expecting Mr Studly?"

"Who?" I asked, pushing myself more upright with my elbows.

"Duh." She replied. "Alex."

"Mr Studly?" I managed to raise one scornful eyebrow at her and was gratified when she blushed hotly.

"Yeah, well..." She mumbled handing me the coffee. "He is."

"Thanks. You don't have to convince me!" I replied with a laugh and leant back in bed to drink my coffee.

"Speaking of which, how much have you been working out, bookworm?" Meg demanded. I glanced down at my bare, and greatly improved, chest and gave her a self-conscious smile. Trying vainly to hitch the covers up with my one free hand.

"I told you, Alex got me into it."

"Well he's a miracle worker then, I thought you'd quit after a couple weeks!"

"Yeah." It was my turn to flush. "Thanks."

"But the real question is what's with the ring?" She lifted up my hand from the covers. "Thought I didn't notice it, huh?"

I couldn't stop the enormous grin that spread across my face at her words, not that I made any special effort to you understand. "Guess."

"Ryan, I think I'm a bit old for guessing games. And you certainly are, gramps. So, screw guess. Spill. Now."

"Ooh, forceful! Sexy."

"You are such a dork, tell me!" Her tone was almost wheedling.

"Alex proposed."

"What???" My sister seemed to be almost as excited as I had been. So, sparing no romantic detail I did indeed spill, telling her the entire story of that Thanksgiving and of my wonderful perfect boyfriend's - fiancé's? - proposal to me. By the end of the short tale, there were tears forming in both our eyes and Meg threw her arms around me with a delighted squeal.

"Oh, Ryan, that is so great! I'm so happy for you. Both of you."

"Thanks, Meg." I hugged her tightly back and kissed her on the cheek. The moment was over.

"Eew. Boy spit!" She made a big deal of wiping her cheek.

"Watch it, child!"

"Seriously, though, what on earth are you doing here in purgatory when you should be with him?"

"He needed some time." I replied with a sigh.

"For what?"

"Um." I hesitated. "Well, to come out to his family." I looked at my sister sheepishly and she cocked her head on one side.

"That boy doesn't do half measures, does he?"

"Hell no!" I grinned.

"Oh, god! Lucky I didn't eat breakfast. I'd hurl."

"Sorry."

"What's up with a world where my brother gets the life I should be living? Where is my handsome prince?"

"He'll be along, Meg. Give him time." I squeezed her arm, earning myself a scowl for the trouble. "Think how many frogs I had to kiss first!"

"Oh, Ryan! And you really did! What were you thinking?"

"Get out!" I bopped her on the head with a handy pillow.

"Make me."

"I'm naked under these covers, Meg. And in ten seconds I'm getting up to get dressed. One. Two. Three." I began to move the covers. I was not, in fact, naked, but it seemed to have worked.

"Alright! Alright! I'm going. Sheesh, talk about cruel and unusual."

"Har de har. Go."

"Going." She stopped at the door. "Hey, does this mean Alex is going to be like my brother-in-law?"

"Yeah." I replied after a second's pause. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"Cool."

"He'll think so too." I slid from the bed and stood up.

"Ohmygod!" Her hands flew to her face, to cover her eyes.

"Relax. I'm wearing shorts, Meg."

"Oh." Her hands came away from her face after a tentative peek through her fingers.

"Listen, kiddo, thanks for the support. I appreciate it, and I know Alex will be glad you're happy for us."

"Of course I am!"

"Well, I know. But, still." Articulate, huh? "He'll want you to think of him as a brother too, that'll make him really happy." I smiled fondly at my kid sister.

"Well, easy enough, the first one I got was such a bust."

"Out!"

"Gone!" And so saying she closed the door behind her, leaving me alone. I shook my head and allowed myself a small chuckle. I was glad that at least one member of my family had reacted favorably to the announcement. We would see soon enough what the others' reaction would be. Not so good, I just knew. I went through the motions of showering, shaving and getting dressed, taking my own sweet time about it as I was in no especial hurry to go downstairs. By the time I made it down, the house was empty. A note on the table from Meg explained that she had gone to a friend's house and that my mom and dad had gone shopping together. Welcome home, Ryan.

I stood in the hallway, holding the note, wondering what to do next. I considered calling Alex, but thought I should probably give him some time. I was worried about him, remembering how badly my father had reacted to the news that his son was gay. Badly? Ha! Not even close to the right word. We had never been close, but that news had destroyed any vestige of a father/son relationship we might have had. My stomach lurched and my heart ached at the thought of Alex telling his parents and getting a similar reaction from them. I knew how much his family meant to him, and I never wanted to be the guy who came between him and them. Of course, I wanted him all to myself, but I didn't want to put him in a position where he had to make a choice. Why not? Maybe on some level I still wasn't convinced that he'd pick me.

And so the pattern was set for the next few days. I interacted with my family, barring Meg, very little, coming together mostly at meals where the conversation was superficial and at times strained. We chatted in a desultory fashion about family members, old school friends and other safe, neutral topics. It all added to my feeling of being a stranger in my parents' home, of being a guest who had turned up unexpectedly and was only barely welcome. I'm sure they were trying, but if they were they were failing. And, yes, I know I shouldn't be so quick to judge others. Meg tried to lighten the mood in the house with clownish antics. She, like me, can't stand awkward silences and is prone to babbling to fill them. One of the most remarkable things about my relationship with Alex is how easy he is to be silent with, sounds stupid, but how many people can you say that of?

However, time inched slowly forward and the big day approached. To say I was less thrilled than I had been as a kid, was an understatement. I still hadn't broached the subject of Alex's proposal, and I found myself wondering if (and hoping) he was doing better with his revelation for his parents. I itched to call and find out, but I knew I had to give him this space, this was something only he could do and which had to be done in his way and in his time.

Finally, however, Christmas Day rolled around and my mother was up bright and early and bustling around the house making sure everything was just so for the family arriving. This year we were playing host to my mom's parent and my dad's dad as well as my uncle, his second wife and two teenage kids – one big happy family. My dad escaped at the earliest possibly opportunity to clear snow and generally find ANYTHING to do that got him out of the house and out of my mother's way. Megan claimed to have some last minute stuff to do and fled to her room leaving me as the designated helper. I didn't mind too much as my mother doesn't get easily flustered, she just issues a lot of orders and then comes and does most of the jobs herself anyway. So I switched my brain off and immersed myself in setting the table, folding napkins and generally making the dining room look divine.

"Ryan!" My mother's voice cut into my reverie.

"Huh?"

"Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"No, sorry. What's up?" I replied.

"Phone call for you, it's Alex." She frowned at me. "I called three times."

"Alex? On the phone?" I was certainly back in the real world now. But why was he calling me on the house phone? I slipped past my mother to go and find out. All sorts of nightmare scenarios flashed through my mind, he'd told his parents and been thrown out and so on.

"Take it in there, I don't want you underfoot in the kitchen." I was firmly instructed.

"Hello?" I said tentatively, listening for the click of the other receiver being put down. "Mom! I've got it, hang up."

"Hiya." Alex's voice in my ear, how much more pronounced his accent was on the phone striking me yet again.

"Mom!" I yelled again.

"You're deafening me, Ry." I heard him say and then there was the click I was waiting for.

"Alex! What's up?"

"Nothing, just thought I'd phone and wish my best guy a Merry Christmas."

"Why didn't you call my cell?" I asked.

"I did, three times, no answer. You know, usually you would wish me a Merry Christmas back at this point." I could hear the sardonic laughter in his voice.

"Oh, sorry, Merry Christmas! I guess I didn't hear the cell ring, its upstairs in my room. Well, the spare room."

"Aw, poor baby." Alex snorted, he had been unsympathetic to my state of roomlessness when last we spoke.

"Your concern overwhelms me." I muttered.

"I know. Anyway, how the hell are you, doofus?" God but the sound of his voice had picked my spirits up. "Surviving ok?"

"Yeah, its kinda dull, but otherwise not too bad. Except you're not here."

"Oh, yeah, that'd be fun!"

"Ha, yeah, OK, maybe not." I made a derisive noise.

"But, hey, you'll be down here in two days, so that's something to look forward to. Well, for me it is." He sounded a little down.

"Of course it's something to look forward to, you fool. God! I can hardly wait." I paused to make sure I was not being overheard. "I love you so much, and I just want to get the hell out of here and be with you, and hold you." I ground to a halt.

"I was teasing, Ry. But it's good to hear you say that, it really is. Anyway, I guess you got stuff to do and I know my mom wants me to help here, so I'd better go."

"Have you told them?"

"On Christmas Day, c'mon, Ry!"

"Alex..."

"Ryan, I'll do it. Don't worry, everything will be fine. I love you too much not to do this." He sounded really sure of himself, but I knew how much he was dreading this conversation. "However much it scares me. Okay? Now, go."

"'kay." I could feel the tears about to start again. "Love you, Alex."

"I love you too, more than anything." He replied with heart-wrenching sincerity in his voice. "Speak soon."

"Bye." I mumbled, but to a dead line. Dejected, but pleased to have heard from him, I sloped back to the kitchen to see what my next chore was to be.

Over the next two hours I fetched and carried, opened things, stirred other things, arranged things, moved things, rearranged things and generally helped my mother make sure that everything was perfect for the arrival of our guests. Then, as they began to show up, I poured drinks and was generally the life and soul of the gathering, kissing grandmothers, chatting about school and making people feel perfectly at home. Which, given my feelings earlier that day, and on preceding days, was ironic. Eventually, everyone was there and in an atmosphere of overly-hearty jolliness we all sat down to dinner; my father having reappeared and Megan having come down from her room after our mother forced her out.

I was still unsure how I was going to broach the Alex subject to my extended family, so I was slightly brooding as we ate, more quiet and subdued than usual. It fell to my uncle's new wife, Margaret, to make the fateful comment that set everything in motion. Innocent enough in itself, as these things are, the tiny flake that sets off the avalanche.

"So, Ryan, how is school going? Did I hear something about a scholarship?"

"Yes, Ryan's going to Oxford." My mother trilled, proud enough to take the credit for this achievement at least. Okay, so maybe that's unfair. "Bill and I are so proud."

"Oxford? In England?" Margaret clapped a hand to her chest.

"Yeah." I agreed, discomfited by the conversation.

"You must be so excited!" My aunt has a deeply annoying way of speaking almost solely in exclamations.

"Yeah. It's a big step though."

"Oh, but you're young. You have your whole life in front of you, and no obligations to keep you here, this is when you SHOULD be traveling!" She smiled broadly at me. "Am I right?"

"Not entirely." I said after a moment's consideration.

"Oh, you're not worried about your apartment are you, dear?" My mother butted in again. "Your father and I were going to tell you later that we'd pay your half." She gave a brittle little laugh. "We wouldn't want to throw Alex out on the street." This was a revelation to me, I had no idea that's what they were planning, and I had already made arrangements to pay the rent from my scholarship, it would have been tight, but doable.

"Oh." I managed. "Um."

"Such a nice boy." My mother confided to Aunt Margaret. "I've only spoken to him on the phone, but he is very polite and charming, and Megan got on very well with him, didn't you dear?"

"Huh?" My sister seemed startled to be the focus of this conversation. "Um, yeah." She shot a glance at me. "He's really nice." Thanks for the ringing endorsement there, Meg!

"Well." I stopped to clear my throat. "You're all going to get a chance to know him better."

"Oh, how's that, Ryan?" My Uncle Jack joined the conversation. I didn't know how much any of my relatives knew about Alex, whether they knew we were a couple or simply roommates. What I did know is that having come out to them all I had kept my private life precisely that and never introduced any boyfriend to any one of them. Not even to my parents. The only person who had really met any of my exes was Meg, and even then very rarely.

"Um, well, I don't know this is really the perfect moment to tell you this. But Alex is more than just my roommate."

"Give us some credit, son, we'd worked that out!" Laughed Jack, forking another heaped load of food into his mouth. I shouldn't have been surprised, he was the younger brother and had always been much more liberal and accepting than my father – his business partner was gay actually, now I came to think about it.

"Oh, well, right, yeah." My articulacy just seems to grow with every moment.

"So you're worried about missing him, Ryan?" Asked Margaret, chattering lightly to fill the void of silence that was opening up at the table.

"Sure you'll meet someone in England." My father grunted heavily. Whether as an attempt to make me feel better about leaving Alex or as some gratuitously homophobic comment about the sexual license of the young gay man, I have no idea. He's not a bad man, so I'm prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt to an extent.

"I don't want to." I said, sharply. "You're missing the point. Alex isn't just another boyfriend. He's very special to me. Very." I trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Of course he is, Ryan." My mother said briskly. "Would anyone like some more potatoes?"

"No, mom, listen. Alex and me, this is real." Lame I realized, so I held up my hand, showing the ring Alex had given me. "We love each other, and we're going to commit to one another." There was a silence at the table.

"Ryan, son, that's fantastic." My Uncle Jack enthused.

"Oh, congratulations, Ryan!"

"Commit?" My grandmother, mom's mom, asked with a puzzled look on her face.

"Like getting married, Nanna." Megan, who was sitting beside her, supplied. She was getting old and hard of hearing.

"To a man?"

"Yes." I said defiantly. "It won't be in a church or anything, but it's the same thing, it's making a commitment to be faithful and true to one person."

"And this is legal?" My father demanded.

"Yes, dad, it's legal." I sighed. "I had kinda hoped you'd be pleased, but I guess not."

"Now, Ryan, let's not start this again." My father began.

"Start what?" I asked, cutting him off. "Start talking about the single most important thing in my life? Start talking about the person I'm going to spend the rest of my life with? Well, dad, if you want me around you're going to have to get used to Alex too – he's not going anywhere. And I will not pretend he doesn't exist. And I will not make out like he's nothing more than my 'special friend'." I was, by now, beginning to get angry. My father's quietly insufferable attitude always wound me up more than any number of solid arguments ever could.

"So what is he, your 'husband'?"

"No. Why must you make this so hard?" I could feel tears coming, but I would be damned before I gave into them. "What's wrong with 'partner', is that such a hard word to deal with?"

"You can call yourself whatever you like, Ryan. I don't care."

"No, well, that's not a surprise." I snapped back. Throughout this my father had kept eating, slowly and methodically, barely looking up at me as he did so.

"Oh, come on, Bill!" Uncle Jack interjected.

"Don't be such a goddamn fool all your life, boy." Everyone turned to look at my father's father, who had said practically nothing throughout the meal. A man of nearly eighty, he was even more infirm than my nanna. But, when John Thomson spoke, everyone was expected to listen, my uncle and father treated him almost with reverence.

"Grampa John..." I started to say.

"Not you, Ryan, just shut up a minute, I'm talking to your father."

"Me?" My father gaped.

"Yes, boy, you. Your son, your only son, has just told you that he's found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with." He paused and took a long pull on his glass of wine. "Now I have no intention of interfering in how you run your family, I wouldn't thank anyone for doing it to me, but by God, son, you're a stubborn jackass when you want to be."

"Dad!" My father made another effort to interrupt.

"Hush, boy, I'm talking. Seems to me that it's time someone told you a few facts. God knows I shouldn't have to do that for a man of fifty, but seems like maybe I do. I've kept my peace and I've said nothing, but you're driving your own son away. And that makes you the biggest fool in the world."

"I'm doing no such thing, Ryan and I just disagree on a few things."

"Bullshit!"

Everyone gasped, except my grandmother who chuckled knowingly and smiled fondly at her husband. I've heard him say God and I've heard him say Christ, but I don't think I ever heard old John swear at anyone in my life. And with such vehemence.

"You think I'm one hundred percent happy with your life, Bill? Hmm? Or with Jack's? Course I'm not. And no parent ever is, because their children are not them. They're their own person, with their own thoughts, and their own lives. Can you get that through your Goddamn thick skull?"

"Dad!" My father's conversation was getting as repetitive as my own!

"But I'm proud of the pair of you, so proud it hurts sometimes. And you should be proud of Ryan. The boy pays his own way through college, on scholarships he won mind you, he's going to Oxford for Chrissakes! Do you even hear that?"

"Of course I do."

"No, all you care about is that he's gay. Well, damn it, the world's changed Bill, that doesn't make one Goddamn iota of difference to anything. Hell, it makes anything he achieves worth more. Why? Because people like you make it harder for him. You've got a helluva boy there, one helluva boy. He's going to go so far in this world, and you should be proud of it dammit. I am. And if he's done the one thing in this world that's harder than anything else you can think of, if he's found the one person who is right for him and he's sure he loves him then by God I love him too. And everyone else at this table should. And anyone who can't, Bill, anyone who can't needs to take one long hard look at himself and realize that the problem is with him. Not with Ryan." In the silence that followed my grampa settled back in his chair and took another drink of wine, his face utterly expressionless.

"Well said, dad!" Uncle Jack was smiling broadly. "To Ryan and Alex, and all the happiness the world can give them!" He raised his glass and as the tears did begin to slide down my face so did everyone else around the table. First Megan, then Margaret, the kids, my grandparents, my mother and finally, slowly, my father.

"Ryan and Alex." They all said.

"And to Oxford." My father said as they drank. "I may not be good at showing it always, but I am so proud of you, son." This was as close to an apology I was ever going to get, and I saw the effort it took him to frame it. It was up to me to be the bigger man.

"Thanks, dad, I know you are." I swabbed at my cheeks. "And I'm going to miss all of you guys, too. I have a toast of my own."

"Go ahead, Ryan." Old John allowed.

"Family, the most important thing in the world." I said, raising my glass with a smile.

"And to new additions to it." My beloved little sister chimed in, and my tears really started to pour down my cheeks.

"Hear hear!" Nanna said, enjoying herself hugely.

"Excuse me." I said, getting up from the table, and wiping away tears with my napkin as I hurried to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and indulged in some major heavy breathing to get myself back under control. So much for telling them in a calm and unemotional way. But, my God, what a dinner this was turning into.

"Ryan." A tentative knock on the bathroom door, my mother. "Ryan are you alright."

"Yes, mom, I'm fine." I dried my face and opened the door.

"You're all puffy and red." She said with a smile. "Your grandfather is right, though, we never tell you how proud you make us. I'm sorry." She held her arms out, and for the first time in many years my mother and I hugged.

"I know, mom." I said. "It's a communication thing."

"Yes. Well." She mumbled. "We never seem to have mastered that in this house."

"Well, from now on." I said smiling. "Let's go back before they send a search party."

"Yes." She nodded. "And Ryan, I meant what I said Alex sounds very nice. On the phone. And I can think of a thousand reasons you wouldn't want to do this, but we do want to meet him in person. After tonight, I don't think hiding him from us, or us from him, is the best idea. Do you?"

"I never did, mom."

"Good." She linked arms with me. "Back to dinner then, smiler?"

"Lead the way."

I could get through the rest of the dinner now, and I knew the next two days would not be the terrible anguish I had feared they would be. I owed Grampa John one hell of a good present sometime in the near future. But at least my family was, even if only for the time being, reconciled and I could go to see Alex with one less burden to worry about.

CONTINUED IN PART 13

(much, much sooner than this part was produced)

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