My dad kept me around, talking for a little while about nothing in particular, but finally around 9:00 he got tired and walked back to the living room to fall asleep on the recliner. My mom had been totally monopolizing my time, so I snuck out before she could talk to me again. I walked up the stairs and went to my brother’s door. My heart was beating with a driving pace. I didn’t know what we were going to do, but I wanted badly to do it.
His door was closed and I decided I would surprise him. The door was unlocked so I pushed it forward gently, trying not to make noise. I got it open just enough to look into the room. As soon I could see and hear, I knew what my brother was doing. I looked at my brother’s computer screen and saw a cartoon of a man having sex with a cartoon woman with an incredibly giant bust. It was anime porn! My brother is such a dork. I could hear the squeals that the woman in the video was making. I looked at my brother and saw that his hand was moving up and down in front of him. It didn’t take a sex expert to figure out what he was doing. I guess after the night before he decided to give up on attempt not to touch himself anymore. I was just about to go into his room, when I heard a voice.
“Lynn honey, can you come downstairs for a minute, I need to talk to you!” My mother said. I quickly closed my brother’s door and stood out in the hallway. I don’t think that he noticed I’d opened the door. I desperately did not want to have another talk with my mom, but I didn’t see a way out of it. So I headed back downstairs and went into the kitchen.
My mom was sitting at the kitchen table. There was a glass of coca in front of her and one in front of the other seat. I took that seat and a sip of the cocoa. I looked up at my mom and gave her an inquisitive smile. What did she want?
“Honey,” she said slowly, carefully measuring her words, “Do you remember what we talked about the other day?”
“I am going to need more information than that mom,” I said, taking another sip of cocoa. She was clearly nervous, and I wondered what was up.
“About your brother?”
“What about Sammy,” I said, suddenly feeling defensive. She needed to stop worrying about him. He was fine. Well… maybe not. I don’t know if what we were doing is wrong, but at least the problems he had had nothing to do with what she was afraid of.
“About…” she said then she looked around to make sure that my dad wasn’t around, “about him possibly being gay.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
“Mom…” I started, but she put her hand up.
“I know you don’t think he is gay, but I do. And I am worried. You know your father; if your brother is gay he won’t pay for Sammy’s college. He will kick him out of the house,” she said. I don’t know if I believed that, sometimes my mom just assumes the worst about my dad.
“I don’t think daddy would do that. Plus it isn’t even an issue because Sammy isn’t gay,” I said definitively.
“How can you be sure?” she asked and I wanted to tell her I knew because I’d licked his cum off my lips the day before, but I couldn’t.
“We talk, I know,” I said. That should’ve ended. But of course, it didn’t.
“I am worried,” she said, “And I love Sammy. And I want to be able to take care of him and love him forever and I can’t do that if your father pushes him away. So, I signed him up for a program.”
“What kind of program?” I asked as my eyes narrowed and I pushed back from the table. My mom’s smile faltered a little, but she kept trying.
“It is a gay reformation therapy course,” she said and I stood up. I was ready to leave the room, “It is a medical thing. They just suppress homosexual urges and replace them with heterosexual ones. Here look, this is the brochure,” she said. She handed me a brochure, but I wouldn’t take it.
“Mom. Sammy isn’t gay. Even if he was, you should love him the way he is. And even if you can’t do that, you have to at least know that these therapies are bullshit and that if someone is gay you can’t bully them into being straight,” I said. My mom looked defeated. She dropped the pamphlet on the table. I saw tears welling in her eyes.
“I just want my boy to be okay,” she said and she cried. I sat back down at the table.
“He is 18, you can’t make him go,” I said, putting my arm around her.
“I want him to go, I know I can’t make him.”
“He is straight mom,” I said.
“I want to believe you’re right, but I can’t. I just want to be sure,” she said. And somehow, that clicked with something in my brain. All of the sudden, I knew exactly what I had to do. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but I had to show her.
“Mom,” I said, “I can prove it. Follow me,” I said. I was taking her upstairs. I was hoping and praying that Sammy was still watching porn on his computer. If I could just show mom that he was watching straight (albeit cartoon) porn, then she would at least give up on this ludicrous plan. It might be embarrassing for Sammy, but it was less embarrassing having your mom tell you you’re gay and that you need to go to therapy. Yuck. I was worried about my mother too, she was clearly high strung and tension with my dad was freaking her out. I thought maybe having one less thing to worry about would be good for her.
“Where are we going?” she asked.