Micah
Micah loaded the last serving dish into the washer just as Rhina came into the kitchen and leaned against the counter beside Micah.
“So, what did you think of Samantha?” Rhina grinned eagerly.
Micah had enjoyed chatting with Samantha. He’d enjoyed chatting with all the guests who had attended his surprise belated-birthday dinner. But then Samantha had asked him out to coffee and admitted that Rhina had invited her with the hope she and Micah would hit it off. Micah had turned her down, emphasizing how flattered he was, and mentally vowed to come clean with Rhina after everyone left.
Well, come out, more like it.
He didn’t appreciate being set up, though the birthday dinner had made him cry. He’d been hanging out in the guesthouse, zoning out in front of some competitive cooking show before dinner, when Caleb had knocked and asked him to come to the main house.
Micah had been shocked to find a group of five people in the living room with glasses of prosecco, ready to toast him. Then later, they’d moved into Rhina’s formal dining room where the table was laden with food and a birthday cake.
Rhina had introduced him to all their guests, two couples and a single woman. Some folks she knew from work and the others from college, but they’d all been excited to help Micah celebrate his last year in his twenties. His initial nerves at being celebrated by people he didn’t really know had faded as the wine and conversation had flowed. The only thing, or person, that would have made the night perfect was Adrien’s presence.
After a huge meal of barbecue that Rhina had ordered in, Micah opened his gifts. A gift card for a year-long membership at a fancy gym from Rhina, and an original piece of artwork from Caleb that had made him misty-eyed.
Shortly after they’d cut his chocolate birthday cake, everyone had left but not before exchanging numbers and making loose plans to hang out in the coming weeks—everyone with the exception of Samantha who had left quietly, a look of disappointment on her face.
Micah wiped his hands and leaned against the counter, facing his ex, his gorge rising as he thought of the conversation he was about to have with her. It was his own fault, really. He’d let Rhina go on believing things weren’t serious with the person he was seeing. And that the person he was seeing was a woman. Now his cowardice had come back to bite him in the ass.
“It seemed like you two hit it off. So, are you going to go out with her?” Rhina tossed her dark curls over her shoulder, her compact body couldn’t contain her excitement.
Micah smiled sadly. She still looked like the kid he’d met in fifth grade. Their friendship had withstood so much. Puberty. Teen parenting. Prison. He hoped it survived him coming out too.
“No, we’re not going out. She asked but I turned her down, because, well, I’m seeing someone else.” Micah swallowed, his nerves ratcheting up several notches.
Rhina blinked in confusion. “You are? Is it the woman you’ve been hooking up with? I thought that wasn’t serious?” She crossed her arms.
“It is serious.” Micah swallowed then focused his gaze on the kitchen floor, too afraid of what he’d see in Rhina’s eyes after this next bit. “And she isn’t a she. She is actually a he.”
“What are you saying, Micah?” Rhina whispered.
Micah met her confused eyes. His body shook with nerves, but he pressed on, silently praying that Rhina could accept this about him, that she wouldn’t push him away.
“I’m saying that I’m seeing a man. I’m saying that I’m gay.”
“Are you shitting me?” Caleb’s angry voice pierced the tense silence of the kitchen, drawing Micah’s and Rhina’s attention. Micah had been so focused on Rhina he hadn’t heard his son come in.
“It’s not enough you were in prison, but now you’ve got a boyfriend?” Caleb shouted, his brown eyes, so like Micah’s, glittering with rage. “Well, that’s just fucking great.” His fists were clenched at his sides and his face was beet red.
“Hey, enough with the foul language, Caleb.” Rhina turned, putting her hands on her hips. “And no yelling at your father—”
“Father? Yeah right. He’s not a father just a sperm donor.”
Sharp pain radiated through Micah’s chest, and he couldn’t breathe momentarily as he rocked back on his feet, grabbing onto the counter to steady himself.
“Caleb, you apologize. Now,” Rhina shouted at their son.
Caleb’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched, his wavy hair framing his mutinous face. “I didn’t say anything I’m sorry for,” he growled.
That sharp pain expanded, filling Micah’s entire chest. The image of his son blurred, and Micah desperately needed to be alone with his humiliation and hurt.
“I—uh—I’m gonna head back out to the guesthouse. Thanks for the party,” he choked out, stumbling toward the back door. He wasn’t halfway down the steps before the tears overflowed and rushed down his hot cheeks. As he flew across the yard, the dishtowel he’d left on his shoulder fell off. He heard Rhina calling after him, but he couldn’t face her right now, couldn’t show Rhina how flayed his insides were.
He slammed into the guesthouse, pacing back and forth and pulling at his hair, before dropping down onto the couch like a stone and gripping his head in his hands. Caleb’s words, his rejection, killed Micah inside…mainly because there was a degree of truth in them. He was no better than a sperm donor, and he hated himself for not being there for his son, just like his father hadn’t been there for him.
Snot dripping down his nose, his eyes leaking, Micah curled up on the couch, wrapping around himself, swamped in misery at his failures as a man and father. He thought he and Caleb had hit the reset button ever since they’d started cooking together. Thought the two of them had grown closer through the conversations they’d shared over the meals they’d made together.
Now, their already broken and fragile relationship was shattered, and Micah didn’t know if it could be put back together. He pulled his legs up to his belly, trying to scrunch himself into a small ball. Caleb’s words played on a loop in his head.
Micah had been worried about Rhina’s reaction to his sexuality, but he hadn’t really thought about Caleb’s reaction. His son was clearly embarrassed of him, which made Micah sick to his stomach. If Caleb wouldn’t accept him, would he be forced to hide his relationship with Adrien? Would he have to end things with the man before they’d even started?
The thought of giving Adrien up, especially now that he knew what it felt like to have someone who was just his, paralyzed Micah with bleakness. But if it was a choice between the man he thought he could fall in love with and a shot at a relationship with his son, he’d walk away.
A sob wrenched out of Micah, and he released the final restraints on his self-control, succumbing to a bout of tears in a way he hadn’t done since he’d been a child. He cried for a love he’d never know. For the lost love between him and Caleb. For all the lonely years of his childhood and adolescence.
And he cried for the yawning loneliness of the years ahead of him.
His body ached to feel Adrien against him, and he had to fight not to grab his phone so he could soothe himself with the sound of Adrien’s rich calming voice. But it would only make letting him go that much more difficult.
Minutes later, his tears stopped abruptly, and he sat up, numbness settling in his limbs. He’d spent years alone, on the outside looking in. It would be difficult to go back to that now that he’d experienced belonging. But for the chance to reconnect with Caleb, he’d give anything. He wouldn’t let his son down or abandon him again.
Micah’s face was tight and his eyes sandy as he padded like a zombie into the small bathroom off the bedroom to clean himself up. He looked away when he caught sight of his face in the mirror. His eyes were puffy, his nose red, and his cheeks mottled. He washed his face and was drying it when he heard a knock. He made his way to the front door.
A sheepish looking Caleb stood on his doorstep, shifting from one leg to the other, his long bony arms crossed over his chest.
“Can I come in?” he asked softly, eyes on his feet.
“Of course.” Micah stood aside and closed the door behind Caleb. The lanky teen sat on one end of the couch, one leg tucked under him, his arms still crossed as his hair fell into his eyes. Micah sat at the other end of the couch, tense, bracing for more verbal bullets, but was completely surprised at his son’s plaintive, soft-spoken observation.
“You’ve been crying.”
Micah rubbed his palms against his thighs, not sure how to respond to that, still avoiding his son’s gaze, afraid of what he’d see there. He was embarrassed for his son to see him like this, for Caleb to know how much he’d hurt Micah.
“I didn’t mean that stuff I said back there, you know. It’s just that…” the teen trailed off, his voice cracking and running out of steam.
Micah finally braved a look at his son. His beautiful boy on the cusp of manhood. The pensive look on his face, the way he was rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. Sometimes, it was like looking in a mirror. Micah cleared his throat and got right to the heart of the matter; he didn’t want to prolong the inevitable pain that would come from hearing what Caleb really thought about him.
“You’re embarrassed that I’m an ex-con. That I’m—I’m g-gay. You don’t want me in your life.”
Caleb huffed. “No, I’m not embarrassed that you’re gay. Or an ex-con.”
Micah looked at his son in confusion. “You’re not?”
Caleb shook his head. “That’s not what’s bothering me at all. And I do want you in my life, Dad.”
Micah turned to face Caleb, lifting his leg partially up on the couch, buoyed that his son had called him Dad.
“Well, what’s on your mind, Caleb? We’ve been spending more time one-on-one. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.” Now Micah was really curious about what had led to Caleb’s outburst. Was something going on at school? With his friends? Micah’s mind raced through all the possibilities of what could be wrong.
“You weren’t around,” Caleb shouted, throwing himself from the couch and pacing in front of Micah. “You were there one day, and then you were gone. All those years.” Caleb tugged at his hair the way Micah had only half an hour before.
He stopped in front of Micah, wrapping his arms around himself as his face crumpled.
“All those years and you wouldn’t even let me visit you,” Caleb whispered, his voice cracking, his wide brown eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Didn’t you want to see me? Did you miss me at all, Dad?”
Micah’s heart broke at the anguished look on his son’s face, a look his selfish actions had put there. He stood and pulled his son into his arms. Caleb stiffened at first, then relaxed into Micah’s hold, wrapping his arms around Micah’s middle.
“Ah, Cale, I’m so sorry,” Micah muttered against the teen’s hair, rocking him back and forth the way he had as a toddler. Caleb had shot up several inches taller than his mother, but he was still short enough for Micah to tuck him under his chin.
Micah moved them over to the couch and sat, leaning back, wrapping Caleb up in his arms. He was surprised the kid allowed the affection, but he was grateful. He’d thought the window of time where his son would allow himself to be held had closed. But now, he owed his son an explanation.
“I just, I didn’t want you to see me like that, son, locked up behind fences and barbed wire. I never wanted you to experience what I saw other guys’ kids go through. Going through security, sitting across from you in an overcrowded room and not being able to touch you. You watching me get dragged back to my cage in cuffs. I didn’t want to put you through that.”
Caleb nodded against his chest.
Then he sighed, regret swamping him. “You were little when I left, Cale. I took for granted how my absence would impact you. Then, when I came back, you had changed so much. I didn’t know how to connect with you.”
But even as he tried to explain his actions to his son, he knew it wasn’t the entire truth.
“I didn’t think I was good enough for you, to be honest. I thought, maybe you’d be better off if I just stayed away. Your mom was doing such a good job with you. You had this beautiful house, and I was living in a box for an apartment, working a crappy job. I had nothing to offer you, kid.”
“Well, that’s stupid.” Caleb huffed angrily as he sat up. “You had you to offer me, Dad. I just missed you.” Caleb’s earnest declaration tore at Micah’s insides.
“I’m so sorry, Cale. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you the way you needed me to be. I can’t ever make up for that lost time, but I’d like to try and be here for you now. Be a part of your life, if you still want me to.” Micah’s heart pounded, then slowed at the grin on Caleb’s face.
“Yeah. Okay,” he said, simply. “I really am sorry about what I said in the house. I didn’t mean it,” Caleb said again, bumping his shoulder against Micah’s arm as he studied his hands.
Micah bumped him back. “To tell you the truth, I expect nothing less from a teenager.”
Caleb snorted, picking at his cuticles. Micah felt lighter, but something was still niggling at the back of his mind that he needed to clear up with Caleb once and for all.
“Cale. Are you sure you’re okay with me—being—having a—uh—dating guys?” Micah once again stumbled over his words. He really had to get better at this. He ran a hand over his sweaty forehead.
Caleb quirked up the side of his mouth. “It’s weird, like Mom trying to set you up with that lady, Samantha, tonight, but no. It doesn’t bother me.”
“You knew about that?” Micah exclaimed. “Could have given me a heads-up man.”
Caleb shrugged. “Yeah, well, doesn’t matter now, does it?”
Micah laughed. “Seriously though. If it really bothers you—”
Caleb shook his head. “No, Dad. It’s not the guy thing. Honestly, I was kind of annoyed when Mom said she wanted to hook you up with that lady tonight too.”
“Really?” Micah asked. “Why?”
“We’d just started hanging out again, making dinner together and everything. I like doing that with you. It’s our thing. And well, when you said you had like, a boyfriend, I just thought it would cut into our time together. That you’d start flaking. All my friends—the guys and the girls—who have girlfriends or boyfriends flake,” Caleb said, picking at his fingers again.
Micah put a hand over Caleb’s. “Hey, quit. You’re going to peel the skin too far and make yourself bleed. And do you have guy friends with boyfriends?”
Caleb rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, Dad, like two. I’m not into guys, but it’s no big deal. I’m not some homophobe or something.”
No big deal.
Teens today were so different.
“Do we get to meet him?” Caleb asked.
Micah smiled. “Soon, Cale. Real soon.”
A few minutes later, Rhina showed up, demanding to know more about his boyfriend, and fifteen minutes later, Micah found it hard to believe he’d thought she’d ever be anything but supportive. As he chatted with his son and best friend, Micah realized that he was in a good place.
He was reestablishing ties with his son; he had a job he loved and a man who lit up whenever Micah walked into the room. As far as Micah was concerned, his life was pretty close to perfect. But after the life he’d lived, Micah knew all too well that perfection never lasted.