Magic in Costa Rica

Leap of Faith

"I'm so nervous," I said, turning to Carla as she rang the doorbell.

"Why are you nervous?" she scrunched her eyebrows together. "You're not the one coming out to your parents."

"I know," I sighed, "but I'm nervous for Mark." Carla nodded in understanding.

"Me too."

Friday during lunch, Mark confessed to us that he had not honored his end of the pact, and didn't tell his parents that he was gay. Carla was enraged, at first. She had told her parents about art school and they did not react very well. They weren't mad, Carla said, they were just disappointed, and worried about what it meant for her future. Although I sympathized with Carla, I understood where her parents were coming from. After all, being an artist did not provide nearly the same level of financial security as being an engineer. Even though they were disappointed, they also expressed their support for Carla's dreams, and told her they were proud of her for telling the truth. I was proud of her, too. Mark, however, had not been able to follow through. He said it seemed pointless to tell his parents that he was gay if he and Alan weren't even together anymore. Carla and I eventually pestered him into inviting us over for dinner at his house so we could support him while he came out. He agreed, but we could tell he was still sad over Alan. So that night, Carla drove me to Alan's apartment to try to convince him to be there to support Mark.

"You want me to crash a family dinner at my ex-boyfriend's house?" Alan thought for a moment while leaning against the doorframe. "I'm gonna have to pass. Sorry, Alma," he started to close the door but I pushed back.

"Alan, come on. You wouldn't be crashing it!" I lied. Alan paused.

"So Mark knows I'm coming?" he raised an eyebrow. I looked down at the floor.

"Well, not exactly."

"So I'm not invited, which means I would be crashing it. Again, no thanks," he started to push the door closed again but I slipped past him and forced my way inside just as it shut.

"Wrong," I said, my finger raised, "you are invited. By me, and Carla," I smiled. Alan rolled his eyes. "Come on, he would be thrilled to have you there!" I begged. Alan scoffed.

"Why would he? I dumped him! Also, what I don't understand is why you would want me there." Alan lowered his eyes and sat on the couch with a sigh.

"Of course I do," my voice softened and I sat beside him.

"Why?" he looked up, eyes pleading. "I screwed everything up between you and Mark and then I made everything worse for him by forcing him to choose between me and being in the closet. I thought it would help, but I backed him into a corner and I feel awful. Why would he ever want to see me? Why would you want to see me?" His voice faltered, and I saw tears shining at the corners of his eyes.

"Hey," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, "You were just doing what you thought was right. Mark understands that, and so do I. And I can see how much you love him, and how much he loves you. How could I not support that?" I smiled. Alan met my gaze with warmth in his eyes, the same warmth I had seen in them the night we met at The Chinese Place.

"Thanks, Alma. But, I still don't know if I should come."

"Why not?" I whined, my voice sounding more high-pitched than intended.

"Because," Alan reached one hand behind his neck uncomfortably, "I don't want to screw up Mark coming out by being there. What if he gets freaked out with me there?"

"Alan," I raised my eyebrows, "You're the only reason he wants to come out in the first place. Without you, he would never have the courage to be who he is. He is so happy when he is with you. Carla says the happiest she has ever seen him." At this, Alan smiled, but then looked around the room, confused.