"You are beautiful. "
He smiles.
"I didn't know if I should use it."
"You should wear what makes you feel like yourself."
Marcus listened to us.
Her face darkened immediately. She didn't say anything at that moment, but I recognized that look. It meant she was saving her anger for later.
He remained unusually quiet for most of the dinner.
Our loved ones chatted, Andrew laughed with his cousins, and for a few hours I convinced myself that we really could survive the night without another argument.
Then my sister asked Andrew if he had thought about pursuing higher education.
Before Andrew could answer, Marcus spoke.
"You need discipline before you need a degree."
There was silence in the room.
Andrew put down his fork.
"I'm very well. "
Marcus ignored him.
"No. You're confused."
I grabbed Marcus's hand under the table.
"Please."
He walked away.
If he wants to be respected, he should join the army.
Nobody spoke.
Marcus looked Andrew straight in the eyes. "Maybe then you'll finally become a man. I'm trying to save you from a world that won't be kind to you."
The words floated above the table like smoke.
I remember hearing my niece start crying in the next room, I remember my mother whispering "Marcus," and I remember Andrew's face.
Neither angry nor ashamed. Just... broken.
He stood up.
"I don't have to sit here and listen to this."
Marcus leaned back in his chair.
"You've avoided the truth your whole life."
Andrew looked at me. For a terrible second I thought he was asking me to choose.
I should have gotten up.
I should have gone with him. Instead, I stood there paralyzed with amazement.
Andrew left the dining room, ran upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the front door close. I thought he just needed some fresh air. Little did I know this would be the last time I would see my son for years.
I still remember every minute after that.
The guests left one by one, each with embarrassed smiles and discreet apologies, as if they felt responsible for what had happened.
I cleaned dishes I didn't even remember serving, while Marcus sat in the living room watching television as if he hadn't done anything wrong.
"Are you going to apologize?" I asked.
He didn't take his eyes off the screen.
"For telling the truth?"
"You humiliated him."
"He made a fool of himself."
I hit a plate against the sink harder than I meant to.
"He's my son."
"And now he's 18. Maybe it's time someone stopped treating him like a child."
I wiped my hands with a towel and went upstairs.
