Behind the Red

The Red

Perhaps Conner Graham should have known his son Kerry was different than most of his schoolmates. Of course, he did understand on some level, but he didn't acknowledge it because it was just his son. He had no desire or designs to make his son conform to his own definition of what he should be. Conner wasn't like that. He was an educated man, a pediatrician in a local family practice, and had seen a lot in his time. He'd done a stint in the military before he met Kerry's mother, so in those years, he'd seen the bad and the good in many people. Besides, he also had twin daughters, Poppy and Kaitlin, three years younger than their older brother. Conner was a single dad these days; his wife had died some years before. Joy had been the center, the very heart of their family, and Conner couldn't look at another woman anymore without seeing her face. Thus, he'd resigned to a long, lonely life as an old single widower. Until then, though, he had three children he loved more than words could express. Still, it had been Kerry that had surprised him the most.

Looking back, perhaps his girls saw their brother much more clearly than their father because neither was surprised. The announcement came almost exactly a month after Kerry turned nineteen. It wasn't that Conner was upset, of course not; he loved his son beyond all else, and he knew that his mother would be proud of him no matter what he did in his lifetime. He was simply surprised; that was all. Truth be told, he was surprised at himself for not seeing it more than anything. After all, the boy had lived in his house for over nineteen years. Shouldn't he have realized something this important?

He had to give his boy credit; he had a flair for the dramatic. That should have been a clue. As a little boy, he'd always been close to his mother, clinging to her like some lifeline. When she died after a short, intense battle with cancer, he was twelve, destroyed, and spent weeks mourning for her. Eventually, he came out of it for his sisters. He could see they were hurting, too, so he wanted to help and be a good big brother. He was always a tearful child, though. After her death, though, he didn't cry openly anymore; he only cried when no one was looking. As a father, Conner knew. He caught the tear-stained pillowcases in the wash now and then, and more than one morning, he saw that Kerry awoke with puffy eyes that indicated he'd fallen asleep crying.

Then there were the times he had been helping with the wash, and he'd walk by and see him holding one of Kaitlin's outfits against himself. Of course, it was one of Kaitlin's outfits; Poppy hated anything that looked remotely like it belonged to a girl. He thought at the time he was folding, but now, he realized what he was doing. And in eighteen years, he brought many home. Yet he dated none of them. His closest friends were Libby, a beautiful girl who was a little spacy, Kendal, whom he met as a child in martial arts, and Dominic, his cousin, and an aspiring fashion designer. The four spent hours together watching movies and discussing other boys and girls. Perhaps he should have listened to who was speaking about boys and who was speaking about girls. Apparently, Kendal and Libby were dating each other, and Dominic was dating a boy named Evan. And then there was his son.

He had other friends, of course. A tall Mexican boy named Manuel, a couple of other boys from his class, Bennett and Cameron, and a couple of other girls came for study group now and then. Bennett and Cameron constantly talked about girls. Everyone teased Bennett because he looked so young and seemed to get dates with all the girls he wanted, while Cameron was always falling flat with the girls. But there was still something that told Conner that they all were quite aware of his son's preferences. Of course, as a father, it made him feel entirely stupid for not seeing what was in front of him. Joy would have known; he was sure of that fact. She certainly wouldn't have missed something so enormous as their only son was definitely not straight and probably never had been.

It was as normal as most days went in the Graham household when Conner realized his ignorance. It was a rare day that everyone was off and out of school. Summer break was going on for the sixteen-year-old girls, and Kerry wouldn't be starting college for a few more weeks when he'd move to the dorms. They had determined to enjoy themselves over the summer since Kerry would move out soon and head toward his future. And the future was the topic of discussion.