Word Count: 293
Aunt Doreen comes at you with her candlestick lips, ruby red wax that she’ll streak on your cheek like a scar. She used to kiss you on the lips until you turned twenty-two and she heard the news you were gay.
Uncle Ned’s second wife hugs you so tight you can feel her breasts pushing into your lungs and doesn’t let go. You feign a cough. She jumps back in alarm. You still cringe but can laugh at this ridiculous woman.
You haven’t seen most of your family in years. Mostly because of the way life turns out but in large part because of your partner. You were the first in your family to creep out of hiding and stood alone for a very long time. Your mother finally met Jon two years ago, your father never, but he was never invited into the home your grew up in, the welcoming arms of the cousins and mothers and fathers of children more normal than you.
But here they all gather, to show their respects, to–let’s face it–take advantage of this last opportunity to see your gay lover in death, if never in life.
Aunt Doreen kneels at the casket. Her elbows move as she crosses herself but her head isn’t bowed, her eyes not teary and sad. She is stalling, getting a close look at Jon, maybe wondering what you saw in him, how you made love, if death hits you the same way when it’s a same sex relationship.
You simply stare at the soles of her shoes, waiting for her and the others to leave, and wonder how you’ll be able to bear the rest of your life. When all normal life as you know it is gone.
