The Greatest Lie Part 6

"You’re right. Tell them that. You didn’t have any trouble coming out to me."

She was right, I knew. I had to face the wrath of Daddy, and the guilt of Mom. Oh well, after all the shit that had passed between us, what was the difference? I studied late, calculated the time difference, and phoned my parents place in Lucerne in the Swiss morning, Minneapolis night. My mom answered. We exchanged pleasantries, and she enthused about my summer school "A’s". I waited for the moment to break in with my difficult message. She beat me to the punch.

"Allie" (I love it when she calls me Allie), I have some bad news. Your father and I have separated. I stifled a rush of enthusiasm, and asked "Did he leave you? When, why?" I heard sobbing over the phone.

"Soon after we got here. One of his graduate students from UCLA was already here. He started seeing her right away. It must have been going on last year in LA. I’m such an idiot."

"Mom, I’m so sorry. I know I was a handful last year."

"It’s not your fault. She’s the most recent of many. But this one he seems serious about. He sent me legal papers from a lawyer in California."

"Divorce papers?" I asked incredulously.

"I don’t know. I haven’t read them. How can I even find a divorce lawyer from here?"

"Fax a copy to me." I gave her the fax number at the Law Review. "I have a law student friend who can look at them. I’m sure he can find you a lawyer."

We commiserated about what an unfeeling rat my father was, and bonded our shared suffering at his often cutting remarks. After we became sufficiently intimate, I said "I need to tell you something. Do you remember last winter when you said you thought I would grow out of my feminine phase?"

"Yes, and that terrible incident at that Prom dance. I know we should have gotten you therapy, but I didn’t push the issue. I was worried how your father would react. Why, darling?."