“Yes,” says Aunt Lil, the only one able to form words. Once the waiter is gone, she continues, “I’m gay, and I’ve always been. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. You’re my sister. My family. And Davina isn’t my art dealer, she’s my girlfriend. Well, she was. Long story.”

Mom wipes tears away. “I can’t be here. I need to leave. Randy?”

Aunt Lil leans forward, frantic. “I realize this isn’t the best way to tell you these things, but you’re going to lose both of us if you can’t accept who we are.”

“That’s enough from you,” Randy says, helping Mom up. Hate boils in his eyes. It’s scary to see this side of him.

We watch my parents walk out of the diner.

Aunt Lil looks at me. “I think that went well.”

I laugh, because it’s easier than crying. Aunt Lil waves down the waiter and asks to get my parents’ meals packed up to go. “I can’t believe you came out to them,” I say.

“I couldn’t carry it around anymore. I needed her to know my truth.”

“How do you feel?”

“Better than I thought I would. Like a weight has been lifted.”

I look down, wishing I felt the same. “Guess I’ll be going back to Pennsylvania in the morning.”

“You don’t know that,” she says, eating her salad.

I’m wearing a blouse, a skirt, and a goddamn barrette. “The lengths I will go to for them to love me. I wish they would try to understand me.”

“They will someday. And if they don’t, that’s their loss.”

“I don’t feel that way,” I say.

“Look at me, my boy,” Aunt Lil says. “Look at what you have done for me.”

“Made you come out to your sister and break up with your girlfriend?”

“August, my dear, I have watched you become a better person every day. All that you risk to live authentically, as hard as you have worked, and how bad you want it. I admire that. You’ve made me want to be a better person. No, not better, that’s boring. You’ve made me want to be more me.”

I shake my head, unable to process. I manage to get out a quiet “Thank you.”

“Should we go home and eat all the ice cream in Brooklyn?”

“I think I should go to the after-party. My last hurrah before conversion therapy.”

“August, I will not let that happen.”

“I wish you had control over it,” I say.

“Maybe I do? That’s a tomorrow problem. Have fun at your party. I’m going to Davina’s to win her back. Don’t know if I can.” Aunt Lil signs the bill and stacks up the to-go containers. “But at least I’ll be bringing food.”

“See you later. Midnight on the dot?”