Coming Out over Ice Cream
Weatherton's Ice Cream Shoppe had been a staple tradition of the Dunn family for as long as James Dunn could remember. It was a Dunn family tradition that if relatives came up to visit or there was a special occasion, a trip to Weatherton's would always be somewhere in the itinerary. The last time James had gone was the afternoon after his High School graduation ceremony. It was also the last time the whole family had been together before his Grandfather passed away. Since then, James had gone on to attend a college away from home. It was the first time in his life where he felt his family, immediate and external, was slowly driving apart. Joseph Montgomery Dunn had been the patriarch figure that had held the family unit together and now that he was gone, the only person left to try and maintain stability was Grandmother Matilda. The erosion of family caused by the waves of change could not be held off forever.
With the family slowly dividing and growing away from one another, James never felt more alienated from the people he loved and grew up with. Up until the death of Grandfather Joseph they were a tight knit crew. They were always planning get-togethers, parties, reunions, cub and bridal showers, and so on. Months after, things just seemed to deteriorate.
But still, Weatherton's always held a special place in James's memories. It reminded him of the past, of celebration, achievement, and family ties. Even passing it almost every day to college would evoke better times and places in his mind. He figured it would be the best place for one of the most important things he would ever have to do in his life.
"I thought I'd never see the day," Daniel, his father, said cheerfully, "When my own son drives me to Weatherton's."
James put the car into reverse and parked it facing out so getting out would be easier, "Is that because you never thought I'd learn to drive or that you wouldn't live long enough to see me drive?"
"Both," his father grinned, "Though I figured your driving might also be the death of me."
James chuckled, concealing his nervousness. "I'm sure it will be," he joked.
They got out of the vehicle together and went inside the building. It was a large, white Colonial style structure with eight sides, wide bay windows along the front, and large pillars held each corner of the octagon shaped building. The wood tiled roof sloped up to the top from each side like a carousel. The inside was as white and sterile as the outside was and the fragrance of caramel and fresh hot waffle cones was always constant. Inside there was an actual carousel, albeit a small one for little cubs, that was painted in bright orange, red, and yellow colors.
They made their way along the long bar of assorted ice cream flavors, the variety count almost rivaling other their competition. The employees on the other side of the glass incased ice cream were dressed in hairnets and cheerful white and baby blue smocks. They scooped ice cream and created handmade waffle cones, fudge, and other baked delicacies in full view of the public. James picked the flavor he always chose, Butterfinger Cluster, and his father picked pistachio. They each ordered them in medium paper cups.
They picked a small table situated next to one of the large bay windows and sat down.
"So," his father started, taking a little scoop out of his ice cream with his plastic spoon, "Care to tell me what this is all about?"
"What?" James asked, trying not to fidget nervously.
"You call me up and tell me that you have something important you need to tell me but we have to do it over ice cream. Now here we are, having ice cream together: What is it you needed to tell me?" his father said teasingly.
"Yeah..." James nervously gulped, feeling the courage and momentum he had been building up suddenly giving out.
"So spit it out!" his father grinned, taking another spoonful of ice cream, "What's the big story?"
"Well dad..." he started. He took another shaky breath and took the plunge, "I'm gay."
His father just cocked his eyebrows and looked at him for a brief moment before breaking out into a smile, "Well I guess I owe your mother 50 bucks then."
James just sat there shell-shocked, still recuperating from the anxiety he had faced in coming out. "You...did you already know?" he asked.
"No. Well, kind of... Your mother was the one who thought you were gay so," he smiled, wiping his muzzle with a napkin, "Either way, son, I still love you and I'm proud of you."
James felt relieved to hear his father's accepting words. He had worried about his parent's conservative leaning views and their place as members at their church. It was more surprise than relief that he felt, and a little confusion.
"What about church?" James asked, taking another bite of ice cream.
"You don't have to go if you don't want. God made you who you are and God does not make mistakes," his dad said warmly.
"No, I meant what would people at church think of you and mom if they found out you had a gay son?"
His father stopped and mulled over the thought, "Well...if they don't accept us for accepting you...then they were never friends to begin with. And we would change churches in a heartbeat."
"You would?"
"Of course."
They continued to chat with each other until the sun started to set in the distance and their third cups of ice cream were consumed. They left Weatherton's and James drove his father back home. They had dinner together and he came out to his mother as well. On the drive back to his dorm, James felt that even though his external family was falling apart, his immediate family was closer than ever.