Before I start, remember that you brought this on your own heads You shouldn't have been so nice to me. This is a piece I finished tonight- it's very raw and it hasn't been betated. I wrote it as therapy for myself, because as some of you know, my parents did not react well to my coming-out.
Okay, on with it.
Title: She's My Tara
Author: Alliette
Feedback: Yes, please.
Spoilers: None, really.
Rating: PG 13? Not really sure.
Author's note: Basically, in this fic, Willow comes out. This is more for me than anyone else, as selfish as that sounds, but I hope you get something out of it. I just wish I could introduce my SO as my Tara.
---
She's My Tara.
“Mom? Did Dad say he was definitely going to be here?”
Willow was sitting on the old couch in the sitting room. Her shoulders were hunched and she was grasping on to the tea cup she held in her hands like it was the last life jacket on the Titanic.
Frowning, Sheila Rosenberg looked up from the newspaper she was reading.
“Of course he will dear. He’s probably just running late. I don’t know why you had to summon us both here anyway.”
Willow rolled her eyes.
“Mom, I can’t actually summon you to your own house. I just wanted to talk to you and Dad.”
“Oh, but you didn’t have time to talk when it was your Cousin Rosa’s bat mitzvah. All the family were asking after you.”
“Mom, I told you. I had studying to do.”
Willow knew they were both falling into an old routine. She knew, no, she hoped her mother was proud of her, but it still seemed like nothing she could do was good enough. Luckily, it was at that moment that Ira walked in the front door. Willow shut her eyes and listened to him drop his briefcase at the bottom of the stairs. That rustle was him hanging up his coat. And... yes, there was the sigh he made at the end of every day. With her eyes shut and the radio on, she could have been eight, nine, ten years old, waiting for Daddy to come home.
Why does it have to be this hard, she thought. And why do I have to feel like I’m doing a bad thing?
Ira entered the room and dropped a kiss on Sheila’s hair. He caught Willow’s eye and smiled.
“Willow- I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”
He sounds genuinely happy, she thought. He is pleased I’m here. Why don’t I just forget this and have dinner with them? We can talk later.
Sheila marked her place in the paper she was reading and took a deep breath.
“There you go honey, we’re here. Now, what was so important?”
Ira was looking into the mirror that hung above their fireplace. He frowned, and looked at Willow. “Is there a problem? Willow?”
“No, no problem. I just needed to talk to you. Come sit down, Dad.”
Willow noticed the silent conversation between her parents. Her Dad shot a look which said ‘do you know what’s this is about?’ and Sheila’s shrug replied ‘no, not me.’
When they were both sat down, Willow turned to face them.
“Mom, Dad. Eh. Um, there was something I had to say to you, so I thought it would be nice if we could come and talk about it like adults instead of freaking out or anything like that.. “
Shelia smiled. Willow grimaced, she knew that smile well. Condescending and patronising all at once, it immediately took her back to her teenage years.
“Honey, we’re your parents. We love you.”
“Yeah. Um, I know. That’s good. I love you too.”
A long pause stretched into silence. Willow’s palms were clammy, and she set down the cup she was holding, in case she dropped it.
“Mommy, Daddy...”
This was it. The last chance to turn back. After she’d said the next two words, nothing would ever be the same. Taking a deep breath, Willow closed her eyes and spoke.
“Um, I’m gay.”
“Gay?”
That was her mother, acting as if she’d never heard the word before. Opening her eyes a crack, Willow could see that both her parents wore fixed expressions of shock.
“Gay as in um, lesbian. As in me dating women. Or woman, there is no women, that’s a myth. Woman. One. One woman.”
“Women?”
Sheila’s face crumpled, and she hid her face in her hands. Willow opened her eyes all the way and clenched her fists.
“Mom, are you okay? Daddy?”
Ira was still sitting there, silent.
“Daddy? Please?”
Ira raised his eyes and stared at Willow like he didn’t know her. He rubbed his hand across his face, and Willow’s eyes started to fill with tears.
“What do you want me to say, Willow? That this is okay? That I can give you permission? Because I won’t.”
Willow was sobbing now. She felt like her heart had been torn out. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, her parents were educated people, this was so wrong...
“Dad, don’t.”
“Willow, listen to me. It’s not so long ago that they killed our people.”
“Our people?”
Willow couldn’t believe the tone of his voice. It was so... cold.
“Honey, they put our family, our blood, in concentration camps. They killed our people for being different, for being wrong.”
Willow’s mouth fell open.
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“It wasn’t just our people though, it was other people. Men wearing pink triangles and women with no husbands. Women like you.”
And now she was choking on her tears, and she couldn’t even breathe anymore.
“Daddy, don’t. It’s not like that anymore. You don’t kill people for being gay, or Jewish. Not today.”
“No, you’re wrong. I hear things. I read the paper. It’s not safe.”
“No, Daddy. Please.”
Ira’s face collapsed, and he began to sob. This grown man was crying because of something Willow had done. Willow had never seen her father cry, and she resisted the temptation to scream that it was all a joke, all a funny ha ha ha, she didn’t mean it, just stop crying Daddy.
“Oh my God Willow. You’re my baby. I can’t let anyone hurt you, and they will.”
“Ira, don’t.”
Ira stood up and shouted at his family.
“I have to, Sheila! She has to know this!”
“I do, Daddy I do, please stop it.”
“You can’t just take something we gave you and throw it away!”
Willow froze. And then the tears were gone and all that was left was the silence of knowing that she’d ruined it, she’d really done it now. And still, she couldn’t stop talking.
“What you gave me? Is this what you think it is? Do you think I chose to fall in love? Oh my god, you really do. Or maybe I did. Maybe I chose to fall in love and it’s okay. Because I’m me. I’m trying to be honest with you for the first time in my whole goddamn life and you’re telling me all this! Don’t you think I know? I know and I don’t care because I’m not going to live scared any more. You can’t live your whole life being afraid.”
She was at the door now, and she spoke over her shoulder to her broken family.
“That’s not a life, Dad. And I’m not living mine like that.”
—
Tara held Willow against her as she sobbed and cried and shouted. And then it was dark, and Willow was dozing, her face puffy and red.
Tara jumped as the phone rang. But Willow was already awake and reaching for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Willow? This is your father.”
“I know. Hi Dad.”
“Your mother and I have been talking and, well, I’m sorry.”
Willow sighed, and tried to smile at Tara. But then the tears started again and she tried to muffle them against her shirt sleeve.
“I shouldn’t have said those things. Your mother and I, well, we want you to come round for dinner this week. Both of you.”
“That would be so good Dad.”
“Is she Jewish?”
“No, Dad, she’s not. But you’ll like her. You will.”
“I know I will. Your mother and I are both looking forward to meeting your, um... your...”
“Tara, Dad. She’s my Tara.”
---
Edited for spelling mistakes. Thanks for pointing ou the Sheila thing
Alliette
[This message has been edited by Alliette (edited October 31, 2001).]
