Page 53 of Cuffed to my Roomies
Brett opened the door, hulking and strong, clean cut and quiet.
“Sir,” he said, holding out his hand.
I held my breath, but my dad shook his hand, “Good to meet you, son. I’m Lynnie’s daddy. Tell me about yourself.”
“I’m Brett Harding. I’m twenty-nine years old, and I’ve been a police officer for seven years. This is my best friend Derek Jennings, my partner on the force. He was kind enough to let me move in here after my divorce a little over a year ago,” Brett said, polite and grave.
“Mr. Weaver,” Derek said with his handsome smile, “I see you’ve brought our girl back.”
“Your girl?” my father asked, looking confused.
“Have a seat, Daddy. There’s something you should know.”
My dad sat down on Brett’s recliner, looked from one of us to the other, “I’ll be honest with you. I wasn’t happy that my daughter was renting a room from two men. My girlfriend, that is the lady I’ve been seeing, assured me that you two were probably homosexuals so I had nothing to worry about. See, her son is a homosexual and he’s a good guy. Little bit fancy, but a good kid. So what I don’t understand is if you were divorced—are you not a homosexual?” he asked Brett.
My eyes got wide. Did my dad just ask Brett Harding if he was gay? Who asks someone that the first time they meet? Or ever? I shook my head.
“Daddy,” I said, “they’re not gay. If they were, they’d still be the best friends I’ve ever had. I know you’ll love them once you get to know them, but please keep an open mind. I’m really happy here.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you’re living here like you’re in an episode of that Three’s Company with men who like women?” he said, his eyes narrowing.
“That wouldn’t be exactly accurate,” Derek said, “We aren’t just good friends, sir. We both love your daughter. Very much.”
“I hope you mean like she’s your little sister,” my father said, getting to his feet.
“No,” I said, knowing I had to be the one to say it, “I’m very safe there and taken care of. These two men—I’m in love with them. We’re together. I’m seeing them both, and I know it’s unconventional, but we’re very happy, and it works for us. I was afraid to tell you, because I was afraid you’d disown me—” my voice broke, willing him to say that he could never do that to his baby girl.
“This is not how I raised you, Lynette Catherine Weaver. This is perversion. It disgusts me. I can only hope that when I get you back home you’ll come to your senses.”
“I am home, Daddy,” I said, tears streaming down my face, “I’m not leaving with you. I want to be here with Derek and Brett. They’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. They’ve loved me unconditionally even when I didn’t deserve it. So I’m begging you to think about this—to stop and think before you walk out of here. Because we can’t take back what we’re saying.”
“I don’t want to take it back. I was ready to be okay with you living with a couple of gays, but not this, not shacking up with two men like a common whore.”
I covered my mouth to muffle the sob.
“You need to go,” Derek said, taking my father by the arm, “We’re not going to stand by and listen to you talk to Lynette that way. She’s a good, decent human being and she’s worth a hundred of you and your prejudices. You’re not welcome here until you’re ready to apologize and accept her for who she is. She’s an incredible woman. A woman you raised, by the way. You should be proud of her, and ashamed of yourself.”
Derek escorted my dad to the door and shut it behind him. I sank down onto the recliner, crying like my heart was broken. I had been so wrong to bring my father there, to introduce them. Everything I’d feared had happened. I was an orphan—no mother and now no father. He’d walked out on me by choice, called me a whore. I was sure would never see him again.
23
Brett held me in his arms. I sniffed and blew my nose on the tissues Derek had brought me.
“I’m sorry,” I told them, “I’m sorry I brought him here. He said terrible things to the two of you. He’s not—capable of realizing that you two are the most amazing men I’ve ever met. That I’m so lucky to have you.”
Brett kissed the top of my head.
“It’s okay. We’ve got you,” he said.
I shook my head, pulled away.
“I owe you both an apology for this,” I said.
“No, I think I understand now why you didn’t want to be open with him,” Derek said.
