Chapter 7

“Johnson, party of two,” called the hostess above the din of the restaurant.

I crooked my arm at my side. Shelly linked hers around it, and laid her head on my shoulder.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna get to eat in this place. You are not only a scholar, Phillip Johnson, but a gentleman too. You’re just too sweet sometimes.”

I glanced around the room; proud to be seen with what I hoped soon would become the catch of my life. We both smiled when we saw an elderly woman jabbing her elbow at the man beside her, and nodding in our direction. They both smiled back and winked at us.

“Remember when…” I heard her say as we made our way past.

I know I had gotten hung up over the fact that Shelly needed so much time to get ready, but in reality, even wearing jeans she looked regal. I have to admit I don’t usually notice girls in general, and in particular, not their clothing, but Shelly made those jeans look like a million bucks worth of fabric.

After a lot of small talk about school and family, I finally got up the nerve to ask her what I had been planning since last night.

“So,” I began nervously. “Does your family make big plans for the holidays?”

“Usually just gram and gramps for Christmas dinner. Pretty boring, actually. How ‘bout yours? Does your family do anything exciting?”

“Other than spending a day picking out a Christmas tree, and decorating it while watching ‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’ nothing spectacular.”

“Ah-h-h. That sounds quaint.”

“Ah, really? ‘Cause I was kind of wondering if you’d want to spend the holidays with us this year. …you know …kind of get to meet my family?”

“You’re not serious, Phillip,” she stammered, looking as out of sorts as I’ve ever seen her. “You want me to like meet your parents and stuff?”

“It’d be lots of fun. The town always goes all out with Christmas decorations, and there’re lots of knick-knack shops downtown to wander though.”

“You spend your Christmas break wandering through knick-knack shops?” she asked with a strange expression on her face.

“N-not really. I just thought if you liked to do that kind of stuff I’d be willing to do it with you.”

“Well, it sounds kind of interesting, but where would I stay?”

“I could stay with my little brothers, and you could stay in my room.”

“And sleep in your bed? That might be a little weird. What if your parents don’t like me? I mean they’ve never even met me.”

“Well, actually, I kind of talked about you this past summer when I was home. Mom said she wasn’t even surprised when I asked if I could invite you.”

“You asked her already? Ah-h-h, that’s sweet,” she cooed as she reached across the table and took my hand. “I don’t know, though, it’s… I don’t know. …don’t you think this is kind of sudden? I mean we haven’t even really been dating that long yet.”

“Well, w-what makes a date official? I mean we’ve been hanging out together since freshman year. That’s kind of like dating isn’t it?”

“Not really. I mean we were just kind of good friends. I wasn’t even sure you were interested in anything else until a few weeks ago when you tried to suck the lips off of my face,” she giggled.

“So I’m slow. Give me a break. At least I didn’t try to get you into bed first like Andrew and a few other guys I know would have.”

“True. But actually,” she countered with a sly leer, “since you brought up the subject…”

A wave of terror nearly knocked me off my chair as I recalled Andrew’s parting words of wisdom to me. It’s funny how pressure can take your mind in the absolute opposite direction you want it to go. Before she even said another word, I was worrying not about the morality of climbing into bed with her, but about whether or not the small plastic packet that Andrew had given me was still in my wallet.

“…Remember when I asked you if you ever considered that you might have a gay side to you? That’s kind of what I wanted to ask you about tonight. I mean, I heard that some guys experiment with each other when they’re growing up, and I was kind of curious if…”

Her eyes were searching mine like she was trying to see if I had done something like that without me having to tell her with my mouth. “When I saw how your tennis instructor was looking at you the other week,” she continued, “I guess it kind of freaked me out to think he might be hitting on you, and that two guys might actually…”

Time seemed to stop dead. I know she continued talking, but I couldn’t discern what she said after that. I also know I wasn’t able to move a muscle, and only hoped my facial expressions weren’t telling her something that I didn’t want them to say.

“I’m sorry, Phillip,” she said after an awkward pause. “I didn’t…” She broke her words off mid-sentence, then looking around the rustic dining room, added “This is really nice, Phillip. Thank you so much. It’s almost like I’m dreaming it or something.”

I slowly began to come out of my time warp, and was now aware of how my stomach was forcing my pounding heart higher into my chest; constricting my airway and throat. I opened my mouth to say – I don’t know what, but fortunately, nothing but a squeaking sound came out.

I leaned over the side of my chair and coughed, trying desperately to clear my throat, restore my breathing, and buy a little time to think what to say.

“Not really,” I finally managed to get out, “when did you ask that?”

“Ask what? About if you ever thought that you could have a gay side? A couple of weeks ago, I guess. You remember. We went to the Student Center to see that movie. …oh, what was it? Anyway, I kind of thought you and your tennis instructor where checking each other out. Then, when you knew what he was wearing, and you didn’t know the color of the shirt that I was wearing, I asked you if you ever thought that maybe there was a little bit of a gay side hiding inside there somewhere.”

She was so casual about it that I’m not sure she comprehended the panic her question brought to my mind. She kept looking at me like she couldn’t figure something out.

“How can you even ask that, Shelly? We’re both committed Christians. God doesn’t make people gay; he redeems them from that curse.”

“Don’t get so excited. I wasn’t trying to say that I thought you did. I was just curious if you – if guys – really did things like that.

“Oh, and by the way,” she casually tossed into the conversation, “your ears are kind of turning red, if that means anything – which I’m sure it doesn’t.”

I could feel the tips of my ears were burning, and wondered what Shelly was really thinking as she starred at them.

When she looked back at my eyes, she had a teasing grin on her face like she wasn’t serious, but I still felt like crying. Why did I ever think taking Michelle Dade out someplace special was a good idea? This whole weekend was turning into a disaster.

“I’m sorry, Phillip. I shouldn’t have brought up the subject – especially not tonight. I just never thought you’d react like this. I feel awful that I even asked you.”

“I have to use the men’s room,” was about the only rational thing I could think to say at the moment.

“Phil,” she pleaded as I stood up. “Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

My step-father, Ed had told me on more than one occasion that honesty in all things is essential to any healthy relationship. Standing in front of the mirror in the men’s room, I realized just how difficult that could be. Without complete honesty about my past, and about my struggles, there would be no happy home with Mrs. Michelle Johnson. I splashed cold water on my face, and after drying it and my hands, nervously headed back to our table.

“Shelly, do you mind if we skip dessert?” I asked timidly. “There’re some things about my past I think you need to know about. I’d kind of like to find a more private place for that.”

Half standing, she leaned across the table and kissed me on the lips, then paused to look into my eyes. I could see she was every bit as upset about what had happened as I was.

After I seated her in the car, and climbed in myself, she squeezed her soft body against mine.

“Phil, about what I asked you. I didn’t mean…”

“Shhhhh. God meant for it to happen, Michelle. I love you so much I want to tell you about some things from my past that may be hard for you to understand.”

Michelle looked worried.

My gentle kiss to her cheek broke some of the tension.

 “They’re hard for me to understand too, Michelle.”