I pull up to Eric’s house, about a half hour before I know he likes to get up, and about a hour before Phil is supposed to come over. I sit nervously in my car, not sure how my plan will turn out. I tap the steering wheel inanely trying to make up my mind whether or not to go through with this. Deep down I know this is what they need, no matter how stupid or awkward I feel, they are my best friends and I want them to be happy. I open the glove box and reach in, I fish around for a moment before I retrieve my cigarette box. I open it up and I have one left. My hand trembles slightly as I take that last cigarette out. I hesitantly put it to my mouth and leave it resting between my lips. I reach for my lighter on the dash and pull it up to the cigarette. I know if I light up I would be disappointing Phil and Eric, I would be letting myself down but that matters little to me at the moment. I know for the plan to work I’ll need to be relaxed and confident, I’ll need my medicine. Reluctantly I spark up and the smell of marijuana spreads all around my car.
I feel so guilty smoking in front of Eric and Phil’s house, it’s one of the few things we fight about, the other being my drinking. Now they are not prudish or anything they just don’t like how I use drink and cannabis. They keep telling me that I’m not a teenager anymore, I can’t hang out all day getting high. It really gets to me, letting them down, but I feel like I cant cope with out numbing myself to the world somehow. It’s a double edged sword, I can stay clean and feel like crap or I can get inebriated and feel like crap for letting Eric and Phil down. Cannabis is my crutch and I have gangrene.
I inhale as much smoke as my lungs can take and hold it in for a few seconds before I gently release it out my mouth. The weed is starting to take effect. I feel slightly dizzy, my vision is a bit wavy and everything seems great. I take another drag and the effects deepen. One last drag and I’m high.
I wait around in my car for a few minutes, so the most damning of the effects are dulled, and then I decide that its time to start my plan. If I wait too long I’ll either get too lethargic or loose my nerve.
I dig around inside my glove box and pull out the mouth wash and perfume I keep in there for emergencies. I open the mouth wash and take a deep draught from the bottle. I gargle it around my mouth before swallowing. I have no where to spit, and spitting out on the side walk would get me in unbelievable amounts of trouble, its just easier to swallow it. Story of my life. I wince slightly as I swallow but I get over it.
I take a deep breath and step out of my car, I can’t waste anymore time, Eric will be up soon and I don’t want him to see me like this un till he opens the front door. I feel Eric will definitely go along with it, but Phil he’s a different story all together, he will be the one I need to convince. I spray myself with the perfume to hopefully mask the smell of cannabis, before tossing the bottle back inside. I look around and take in my surroundings, I’m in the middle of suburbia, green hedges, white uniform houses, synchronized gardens. Tulips, roses, tulips, roses its an individualists nightmare. But if you can live here you must be doing all right for yourself, these houses go for quit a bit. White people, what can I say we like our familiarities. Although each of these houses are too familiar, I don’t know how people can tell one house from another. The only reason I know where I am going is from repetition, this house has been my abode on the weekends since Phil and Eric moved in here several years ago. The three amigos as Phil and Eric put it, or Phil and Eric and their fag hag as I see it. Sometimes it gets to me that the only family I have are two gays in love, but when I really think about it, we are happy together, I don’t cramp their style and they are happy to keep me around. So it works, we’re not orthodox, but we are the 21st century family. And since my parents disowned me it’s all I have.
I take a step towards the house and I can feel the worst of the hash wearing off. Another step and another and I am starting to feel mellow. I keep on track for the front door with each step I take I feel more sober. I am glad that I mixed it down with tobacco so that I am not off my ass at the moment. Hopefully the dumbing effects will wear off but the confidence will stay.
I reach the front door and I am fairly sober, I am very mellow but I have none of the other side effects from smoking. Its too late to walk away I keep telling myself, trying to trick myself into staying brave. I pin my note to my pyjama’s. I have left my over coat in my car, I feel it takes from my plan, and I ring the door bell a few times, making sure to wake Eric up. When I’m satisfied he is awake I plonk myself on the door step and wait my fate. I can hear him thumping down the stairs, in a few second all our lives will change forever. I start to feel dizzy I am so nervous, and that breakfast probably has something to answer for along with the joint I smoked. This is a real risk, they could freak out at me, they may never want to see me again, effectively killing my metaphorical family. But if its what I have to do for them to be happy again, I’m more than willing to risk it.
“Hello?” Eric answer’s the door, he looks straight ahead and around, missing me, I guess he wasn’t expecting me to be at shin height on his porch. I look up at him and he looks down at me, his beautiful brown eyes are puffy and red, he must have been crying the poor guy. His normally neat ginger hair is in a mess, and he has a full grown beard, the guy normally keeps it in a well groomed goatee with chin strap. Eric must be absolutely heart broken, not that I can blame him, I’m absolutely heart broken, and I’m not the one who lost my life partner. He is wearing one of Phil’s old football shirts, its like a night gown on him. Phil is bigger than Eric, both vertically and horizontally. He was a defensive lineman in college and when he stopped playing his muscle turned to flab. Now don’t get me wrong Phil isn’t morbidly obese, he is over weight but he’s not in the diabetes zone yet.
He notices me and his jaw drops somewhat. “Sue what… what is going on?” He asks. He’s looking me up and down, I am dressed in a pink footy sleeper with a pink pacifier stuck in my mouth.
“Ohh Sue honey, I’m really not in the mood for a rave.” Eric sighs dejectedly, he seems to think that a rave was my master plan to get him and Phil back together. I grumble angrily at him and point to the note pinned to my pyjamas. I wonder whether he smelt the weed off of me or was it solely the pacifier in my mouth that tricked him into thinking I was taking him to a rave.
The note read like so:
Dear Phil and Eric
Looking at me I bet you guys are wondering what’s going on. Well you guys are my best friends, you’re my family. There isn’t a word in the English language that describes what you are to me. You are like my plutonic husbands. You give me everything I need, and well I hope I make you as happy as you two make me
Lately you guys have been fighting so much, and your relationship seems to be on the brink. Well I feel it is my duty to do everything I can to help out. And I am here for the two of you, you know I will do anything to help, to make you guys happy. So here I am, to make you happy.
You must be wondering why I am dressed the way I am, and what this is all about. Since you guys have been arguing about adopting a baby, and I can see that while both of you want one, you guys are worried you wont be good father’s. Well that’s why I am here, think of me as your practice baby. You have all the responsibility and none of the worry that you might be screwing me up. You will get the full Daddy experience.
I love you guys, and while I know this is incredibly strange, I think you need this, please try it out before you show me away.