“What about your parents?”
“They made a bit of a fuss.” Jason thought back to his father's disdain and anger. But that seemed to be as much because Brent was the 'wrong' class as for the fact that Jason was taking it up the bum. His mother had been worse, in a way, coldly disregarding Jason's feelings and wishes and continually harping on marriage and kids and all the stuff which would have made her able to say with pride at the dinner and cocktail parties she was always attending, “my son's wife, my grandchildren.” Only his granny had been easy with it. “Pudding,” she'd said, “if he makes you happy, then I'm happy,” and afterwards she'd asked about Brent as if she cared and had invited them over for tea and dinner and had fallen for Brent's charm as easily as Jason had. “It's odd.”
“What?”
“My parents made me feel more of an outcast than anybody else. They struggled to accept what I was, what I am.”
No comments:
Post a Comment