Reunion

Prince George High School Class of 1979

So ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I spent this weekend in Prince George, Virginia at the Husband's high school reunion. The Husband took some (extremely rare) time off of work and flew in, and I drove over from Kentucky (for 9 effing hours) where I'm spending a little time with the kids. For four days we were the guests of one of the Husband's closest high school/college friends (read here self-proclaimed former fag hag) and her husband. Our hosts were infinitely gracious. And they made some marvelous meals for us including Greek chicken thighs with sugar snap peas our last day there. (btw, if you guys read this can you send me the recipe as well as the recipe of the curry chicken salad?)

The reunion itself was spread over two evenings with a buffet/meet-and-greet at a local Italian restaurant on the first night. I think I held my composure very well considering I was a nervous mess. I'm sure you can imagine. I'm not the most social animal to begin with. Gatherings tend to terrify me. Crowds of strangers induce panic attacks. And who knew how the Husband's former classmates would respond to him showing up with his male partner, especially considering they grew up in a small southern US town? Barring any closeted individuals, we were the only two gay people there.

At one point they went around the room with everyone introducing themselves and giving a brief synopsis of their lives since high school, "Hi, I'm so-and-so. I live in Some Town, VA with my husband, so-and-so. We have three children and two grandchildren with one on the way." Nervous Nellie that I am, I worried about how the Husband would deliver his introduction. He certainly wasn't out in high school, and I don't know how many of his classmates have kept up with him enough (or sought out enough gossip about him) to know that he's gay. He told them he lives in Barcelona and introduced me as his partner.

Smiles. Nods of acknowledgment. No glares of burning hatred. No uncomfortable aversion of the eyes. If they had a problem with his sexuality or my presence there, they certainly hid it well. Overall people were pleasant, even friendly. They asked the usual questions about where I grew up and the part of Spain where we live. I was pleasantly surprised.

Later on the Husband told me he was nervous about mentioning the fact that we were married and that I have two kids. He didn't know how people would take it. Of course I understand. All too often I've seen perfectly open minded people turn to raging bigots around the issue of gay marriage. He was at least as petrified as I was if not more so. But he's gregarious enough to hide any trace of timidness.

The second night was a more formal dinner at a restaurant in the now gentrified former tobacco warehouse district in downtown Richmond. I wore my suit and a tie for the first time in about three years. But this time I wasn't as nervous. I had met some very nice people during the previous evening, and I knew I could talk to our hosts.

The evening began with cocktails and conversation, followed by a slideshow of photos from previous reunions. It was a bit like watching someone else's vacation photos from a place you really have no interest in visiting. But as the meal began with a basic salad, the room was punctuated with some interesting conversation. Allow me to paraphrase a few:

"Oh, you know she won't be coming this year. I think she's afraid for everyone to see how ugly her new husband is."

"Let me just dispel a rumor. He's not dead unless he died within the last 24 hours. I just talked to him on Facebook. I don't know why his mother said that."

"I had such a crush on you in high school. I'm not going to let this chance get by me tonight." (This last one was said to my Husband by a gorgeous African-American woman with blonde hair. I was told she was a cheerleader in high school, and she looked like she had kept herself in excellent shape. I think she probably could have kicked my ass, so I told the Husband he was on his own.)

Then, before the main course they gave out a couple of door prizes. They started out asking if anyone had been married in 2007. "Alright, did anyone get married in 2008?" I quickly deduced the prize was slated to go to the most recently married classmate. And I knew without a doubt that all that stuff the Husband had said about not knowing how people would take the whole gay-marriage issue went right out the window.

Just as an aside, the Husband likes winning prizes. He likes it a lot. No, he LOVES winning prizes. Have you ever seen the way a dog's demeanor changes when it sees a cat or a squirrel it wants to chase? Its muscles get tense. Its fur stands on end. Its pupils dilate to the size of saucers. Its focus on the prey becomes absolute so that it forgets the existence of its owner on the other end of its leash. It pulls toward the other animal like it's trying to win the iditerod.

Well, that's my Husband when he thinks there's a chance he might win a prize. He immediately began bouncing up and down on his seat and shouting " did she say 2009? 2009!" And no, he had no idea what the prize was. That doesn't seem to matter. I can't tell you how many evenings we've gotten more intoxicated that we intended to because raffle tickets were given away with each drink purchase.

"You were married this year?"

"Yes!"

"What date?"

He was too excited to answer so I told them July 3.

Applause. Congratulations. A gift certificate to Starbucks. Even excited requests to see the rings.

Overall our marriage was celebrated as if we were a straight couple. Granted there was one person who asked, "Is it legal? It's got to be legal."

But that question was answered "It's legal in Spain," and I think it was mostly friendly banter anyway.

And I heard someone saying, "You didn't know? Well I think everyone assumed..." But most of the Husband's classmates responded with smiles and congratulations. One of the organizers even came up to us later to make sure there were Starbucks in Spain so we could use our gift card.

The next prize went to the longest marriage, and soon after the main course arrived. The prime rib was excellent, even if the broccoli that accompanied it was a bit overcooked. And the desert was probably the best cheesecake I've ever had in a restaurant.

To be perfectly honest I was really surprised at our reception among the Husband's classmates. It just goes to show how civil and welcoming people can be if you give them a chance. I wouldn't have expected people who grew up in a small town in the southern US to be so open minded. It has made me think maybe I ought to give more people a chance. Maybe, just maybe I could go to my own class reunion the next time they have one. Maybe I can proudly introduce the people there to my Husband. And maybe they'll be as accepting of him as his classmates were of me. Maybe.