Raise a Glass to Freedom

Redefining bravery- part 2

John's POV

I took a deep breath. One day. That was all I had to do. I had to make it through one day and then the reunion would be over and I could catch a plane back to New York. I paused for a moment before walking down the garden path, past the perfectly manicured lawn, past the sign that so starkly outlined exactly what made me hesitant to visit my family in the first place, and I knocked on the door.

"Ah, John! Good to see you, good to see you, come on in!"  My aunt opened the door, wearing an oversized straw hat and apron. I stepped into the house and was momentarily comforted by the rich, delicious smells filling the house. If there was one thing that I did love about the south, it was the food. I set down my suitcase in the hallway and made my way into the kitchen to greet my relatives. It smelled of apple pie and fried chicken. Delicious.

The dining table was already laden with food when I walked into the kitchen. I suppose I was a little late, having walked some of the way home. Younger cousins ran in circles and hid under the table. My father stood at the stove, stirring a pan of something delicious smelling. There was laughter and happy conversation. Maybe this reunion wouldn't be so bad.

"Time to sit down," my aunt called, guiding the cousins to their respective spots at the table. My father brought a bowl of what I then realized was soup to the table and we sat down, my father at one side of the table, my aunt and uncle at the other, and the cousins, grandparents and me in between. We began eating and the conversation turned to how my cousin Jerry was doing in school. I was really beginning to relax.

"So, John, what have you been doing recently? You're living in New York, right," my uncle said. Here we go, I thought. "Well," I said, eating a spoonful of soup to give myself time to think, "Yes , I am living in New York. I am in my last year of college, in fact." He nodded, "Of course." My aunt spoke up, "Are you seeing anyone?" A silence pierced the room, even before I said a word. I felt my throat tighten. "Well," I paused, "I am currently living with Alex, my boyfriend." There was a silence. Jerry spilled his cup of juice. My aunt went to get more soup. My grandma cleared her throat, "There's a lovely young lady, lives just down the road, I could set up a picnic for you two, I'm sure you'd get along just fine." I set down my spoon, making more noise than I had intended. "Alex is my boyfriend." My father frowned at me. "You know I don't approve of that kind of lifestyle, John." My uncle took a bite of chicken. "Are you sure this is the best example to set for-" My aunt cut him off, "How about we talk about something else, politics perhaps?" Oh no. I searched my mind frantically for any way to change the subject, nothing. "Well that crooked Hillary is gonna be the death of all good Americans! Her and her feminist agenda! Lock 'er up, I say," my father chuckled. "And that Muslim ban," my grandpa chimed in, "do whatever you can to keep America safe, I say!" My face flushed with anger. "How can you support him?" A silence. "He's awful! He targets minorities and encourages hate! Muslims, women, the disabled, the poor," I paused, "the LGBTQA+ community, he is so harmful! And he can't control his temper, he's like a little kid. And by the way, I proudly consider myself to be a feminist!" There was a tense silence. "Okay, that does it," said my dad, standing up, "get out. Just... get out of here!"

I stood up, knocking over my chair and ran out of the kitchen, down the hallway, grabbed my suitcase and ran out of the front door. I ripped the Trump yard sign in half for good measure. I jogged, holding my suitcase in my arms, until I was far from the house. It was nearing dusk as I reached a playground. It wasn't much, a set of swings and a slide. I sat on the swings, watching the sun set over the houses.

Hey. U doing ok? I had several missed texts from Alex. Hows it going? Ur plane landed ok? Call me. I swung gently on the swing set for several minutes, listening to the soft squeaks of the metal before picking up my phone and calling Alex.

"Hey, baby, you okay?"

It felt so good to hear his voice. "Yeah," I replied.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Just- usual ignorant relatives, same stuff as ever."

"Where are you now?"

"Some park. They kicked me out."

I heard Alex gasp.

"Baby- that's awful! Where are you staying?"

"I'll find a hotel," I replied.

"No, no I can drive down and get you. What town are you in?"

"No, 'Lex, you have school! I'll be okay! My plane is early tomorrow, besides tomorrow is Valentine's Day! I'll see you then."

"Are you sure? I can totally come get you!"

"I'll be okay 'Lex," I assured him, "I gotta go now babe."

"I love you"

"I love you more"

I booked a night in a nearby hotel, though not before turning my rainbow John Groff shirt inside out. I didn't want any more drama.

When I woke up, I had four missed calls from my father. I didn't respond.

The bus, airplane, and subway rides were thankfully uneventful. By the time I was back in New York, it was early evening. It was also Valentine's Day. I got off the train a stop early to go into the CVS. I bought a pack of pens, a cheesy card with hearts, and a bouquet of roses. I paused outside the CVS to scrawl a quick note onto the inside of the card.

Dear 'Lex,
I love you more than words can say.
Yours forever and ever,

John ❤️

I walked to our apartment, barely noticing the cold. I took the elevator to our floor, brimming with excitement at the thought of seeing Alex.

I knocked on the door, timid at first, then louder. It opened to reveal Alex, beaming with a stained apron hung around his neck. He opened the door wide for me, before pulling me into a warm hug. It's good to finally see him, I thought.