Properly

Chapter 18: A Father's Confessions

Weeks dreaded by, each week was met with the stomach-knot forming realization of the mid-terms.

Those damn exams worried even the most unqualified of students to study their subjects. Thankfully for me, Richard and Max were by my side to keep me company for the cramming we did, which honestly improved my memory and reduced my stress for the tests and quizzes we received.

I kept this streak of getting 90s to 95s for the following days up until Thanksgiving vacation.
An entire week of freedom, plus a tasty feast on the holiday.

At least, that was before I transferred to Tobagco and had dilemmas fogging my mind.

The Saturday after sleeping in until 10 in the morning, I groggily awoke to a drained phone and an empty house.

A brief search through the house confirmed that he wasn't there. I plugged in my phone, waiting for the charge to reach sufficient battery to call, and poured a bowl of corn flakes.

Returning the milk to the fridge, I caught a yellow post-it note on the door.

Gonna be home late
work stuff going on and I want the extra hours' order some delivery for dinner

I paused at this surprise from my dad. I figured he was earning some extra cash for our Thanksgiving dinner, and that this was only for the weekend, but I was wrong.

Every day leading up to our Thanksgiving, Dad was off at work.
The same yellow post-it note, with similar messages.

Gonna be home late again, don't wait up for me

Work has been piling it on me these last couple of days, eat dinner without me and make sure to lock the doors

Sorry bud, working late again.
Boss is a massive jerk when I'm involved

I'd hardly see him at home. The rare times I'd catch a glimpse of him, was when he stumbled back into the house, his best suit wrangling off his shoulders.

The most concerning part- he always returned home with the heavy scent of cigar and light stench of whiskey.

I worried to no end about what he could've possibly been doing. There was another thing I wriggled my nose at, and after a sleepover, I could decipher easily and cringe at now.

But away from that subject, for now, I would let my worrisome thoughts spiral into a cluster mass of "what ifs" that always resulted in Dad getting killed.

Thanksgiving Day was when I could finally face Dad with the dilemma that concerned him and the possible secrets he held from me.
He returned earlier than his expected time of arrival, 11 or midnight, with several paper bags of groceries.

Dad still wore his best suit, although it was completely on his body and didn't reek of alcohol and cigars.
We traded meek smiles of acknowledgment and he escaped into his bedroom.

During the absent days, I planned the discussion we were bound to have over this dinner. The possible reactions to my coming out, the what-ifs to me asking about his secrecy, etc.
I even confided in Richard and Max for support, which they wholeheartedly gave to me.
The one mistake that I made was to try confiding in Benjamin and Owen.

Their reactions were as expected, suspicious and claiming that my dad was sneaking off to have gay sex in some underground bars full of married men and crossdressers.

It was obviously a joke on their part, but with the whiskey and cigar whiffs I caught from him... it seriously just halted my rational train of thought.

"Is he...? What if, no... he said that he's not trying to impress anyone because of his age and body. Right?"

I shook the image out of my mind, and offered my assistance in smothering the turkey in adobo sauce, even if the tension suffocated us both.
Even so, once the turkey and Hawaiian rolls were baked, the mashed potatoes mashed and mushed, and iced tea mixed, we arranged the miniature feast on our table.