It was just going to be a simple Spanish fabada bean and chorizo soup from his grandmother’s favorite recipe. Jake hoped for a nice meal and a better time with his widower father. His dad didn’t seem homophobic, but he just didn’t get that Jake was gay. A quiet dinner might clear the air.<br><br>But the trip to the supermarket was a disaster involving a bear and some sausage. Then his dad showed up accompanied by a health aide who isn’t quite what she seems. And the bear shows up, too.<br><br> Stress and rum piles up. Will Jake’s father get a new grandson? Does Jake have a bear in the kitchen and in the bedroom, too? Is this meal one big happy family gathering, or an even bigger disaster?

For Better or For Worse

Then she farted, and I said out loud, “A proctologist!” It took a while before I fell back asleep.


With the sunshine coming in the window, I woke and stretched and felt pretty good, until I heard a crash in the kitchen below me and a string of rather creative profanity. And I remembered, and the fear and shame came back again. I felt like I was six years old and had just spilled my milk all over the table and my grandmother, at Thanksgiving dinner. My grandfather, that old asshole, thought I’d done it on purpose and smacked the back of my hand, calling me mean and clumsy. I thought I’d managed to forget that, but it was like having PTSD. There I was all over again, cringing and crying, and my parents not saying a word because Grandad was God. I remembered how it felt after that, how I hated everyone.


Chapter 10