QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Getting Stuffed

Grateful
By Steve Prince
I know it might seem like a silly tradition, but it’s something we do every year before Thanksgiving. Once every dish has been put on the table and once every wine glass has been filled, my “California family” and I go around the table describing what we are thankful for that year.
Call me a dramatic gay, but I guess I just need a bit a ceremony to mark a Thanksgiving meal.
I took my seat and scanned the table. My roommate James sat to my right, and my queer dear Raquel took her seat to my left. Alex sat across from me. A total of eight people sat at the table, friends I have made during my time in Los Angeles.
As I looked around, I couldn’t help but notice Peter’s absence.
“Hmm,” I paused while I raised my glass, “what am I thankful for?”
Seven pairs of eager eyes looked at me, their pupils reflecting the glittering candlelight.
Twenty-four hours earlier…
“I’ve decided to come out to my family,” Peter announced. Almost spitting out my iced tea, I turned to face him.

Peter stood in my kitchen, the late afternoon sun somehow managed to funnel itself through the skylight, which lit his face a crimson glow.
My first reaction was to jump up and down and yell, “Thank fucking God!” but I didn’t.
Instead, in that split second, concern and excitement battled within my head—concern won.
I felt my brow crease as I set my tea down. “What brought this on?” I asked. As much as I wanted Peter to come out, his family back in Oklahoma was seriously backwards about gay people.
“Oh, wait,” Peter said, “I’m not coming out to my parents.”
I tilted my head, confused. Well, who was he coming out to when he meant family?
“I’m telling my Aunt Jenny and my California family,” he said, with a smile.
“Oooohh,” I said chuckling. “You scared me for a bit babe,” I said honestly.
He grabbed me up and hugged me. “What?” Peter said incredulously, “You think I’m fucking crazy. I’m never coming out to my Oklahoma family.”
I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not still, the comment made my heart hurt for him. I forget how lucky I am to have a large extended family that all loves me so much. I wish it weren’t such a rarity.
“Well, when are you going to tell your Aunt?” I asked, trying not to think about Peter’s Oklahoma family.
“Tomorrow,” he said, gulping, “at Thanksgiving.”
“Wow,” I said, “that’s quite a statement. Is there anything I can do?” I was trying not to sound like a worried grandmother, but it was hard. As I looked at Peter, I had to admit that I loved him fiercely. To see him hurt would kill me.
“Look,” he said, hugging me tighter, “I appreciate the concern, but it’ll be fine. You remember my Aunt Jenny… she’s a total fag hag.”
I smiled. She did seem pretty open. Peter had mentioned before that the rest of the family considered her the “crazy liberal” that lived in California.
“Besides,” Peter said, “she’s been sending me tons of email forwards about all the equal rights stuff she’s been doing in California. I think it’s her way of letting me she realizes you and I are more than just friends.”
“How come you didn’t tell me that?” I asked.
Peter broke apart and walked to the fridge. “Well, you didn’t ask,” he said, absent mindedly, “and I didn’t really think of it as a big deal.”
I didn’t believe that, but I decided not to push it.
“Well,” I said, changing subject, “I’ll miss you during Thanksgiving dinner.” I walked up to him.
“Not as much as I’ll miss you,” he said.
We kissed.
Twenty-four hours later…
“Hmm,” I paused while I raised my glass, “what am I thankful for?”
I shrugged my shoulders, trying not to think about Peter. I hoped he was doing okay. I hadn’t heard from him all day.
“I’m grateful for love,” I said. “I know… I know… that sounds cheesy as hell. But I am. I am grateful for the love I feel from y’all, my family back home, and from other people that can’t be here today. I’m very grateful.”
Everyone smiled, and we continued around the table. The meal went off without a hitch, and was delicious. Of course I ate too much food.
“Goodbye,” I said, “thanks for coming!” The last of our guests were leaving.
As I shut the door, James sighed. “I’m exhausted,” he said.
Thirty minutes later he bid me goodnight and went to bed. With the craziness of the day, it was nice to finally have a moment of quiet to myself.
I lay on the couch, drearily watching television late into the night, trying to distract myself. I kept thinking about Peter. I wanted to text him, but I didn’t. The last thing I wanted was for him to be worried about me being worried. Still, it was almost midnight; I was surprised I hadn’t heard from him.
A rap at the door startled me from my drowsiness. It scared me in fact. It sounded tense.
I threw off my blanket and walked to the front door. It was Peter, but I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark.
I opened the door and the smell of beer thrust itself in my face.
“Peter,” I said.
He moaned something inaudible.
“Peter,” I said stepping towards him. He looked up at me, his eyes welling with tears.
I didn’t know what had happened, but by the look of his face, it didn’t matter right now.
My heart breaking I reached out to hug him, and he met me with sobbing. Not soft crying, but low shaking sobs. As I hugged Peter, he collapsed right there. My door still open, I held him, silently. In that moment, I just felt grateful I could be there.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done
Here You Cum Again
Eye Of The Beholder
The Present
A Minute’s Pause
Brotherly Love
Ladies Who Lunch
Here Cums The Rain Again
Dinner For Two
Blow by Blow
Commando
Cum As You Are?
Aftershock!
Caught in the Act
The Great Compromise
The Tipping Point
Cross Country
In Stereo
Get Smart
Blind Faith
The Dirty Mexican
A Few Good Men
Peter’s End