Page 37 of Ginjuh

“I don’t know, Zach.” He sighed, sitting back.

“It should be pretty cool.” I shrugged. “A lot of the guys have some pretty scary makeup and masks. I mean, it’s no theme park haunted house, but…well, it’s cool.”

“I’m sure you and Austin did a good job,” Dad said evenly.

“Grandpa helped.”

“I’m sure he did a good job, too.”

“Is that all?” I sighed. “That’s the extent of it?”

Dad looked down.

“Austin is my boyfriend.”

“I gathered.”

“Disappointed?”

Dad’s head raised and his eyes were wide. “God, no.”

I waited.

“Well, not in you.” He said softly. “But in myself, yeah, quite a bit.”

“You’re not the reason that I’m—”

“I’m disappointed in myself for what I said to you, Zach.” He said, actually using my name again. “I don’t…I’m not a big emotional guy…okay? But I want you to know that calling you…a queer…was not my intention. Regardless of whether or not I intended to say that, I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”

“Okay.”

“I hope that you’ll forgive me, son.”

“I forgive you.”

“Don’t say it unless you really mean it, son.”

“I really forgive you.”

He smiled.

“I knew you weren’t actually calling me a queer, dad. That didn’t mean I wasn’t mad, but I knew that wasn’t what you meant when you said it.” I said. “So, save your regret for something else. Something bigger.”

“Ah, Zach.” My dad shook his head, looking down at the table. “Don’t do this to me, son. Don’t you know I’m dyin’ over here?”

“Hyperbole doesn’t suit you.” I chuckled. “You had plenty of time to apologize to me. I’m not old like Grandpa.”

“He’s not your—”

“If you say that—you’ll never live long enough to apologize enough.”

Dad stopped and looked down at the table.

“I can take being called a queer all day long—even if you didn’t really call me that—but I won’t listen to you say Grandpa is not my grandpa,” I warned him. “You can act like he’s not your father all you want. That’s your choice. But he’s my grandpa. He’s never not been my grandpa.”

“Zach.” Dad shook his head. “You don’t understand…”

“What’s to understand?” I snapped, though not with as much conviction as I could have. I knew my dad was hurting, too. “Maybe it wasn’t fair that he had trouble with what grandma did and that spilled over onto you. You didn’t deserve that. I know that. But—what would you do if mom did what grandma did? Did you ever consider what he went through? And did you ever consider that even after he went through that, had to live with it every day of his life, that he still ended up loving you and treating you like his son? Maybe it took him a minute—but he came around. And he’s known my whole life that I’m not his blood—but he’s treated me like I am. He’s been the best grandpa a queer like me could ask for.”