My father died a year ago.

"Mom, hi. Can I come down for the weekend? Please."

It didn't matter that my family disapproved, I missed them. A part of me felt I had been to battle and lost. I didn't want to feel that way anymore. I wanted to reconcile, make them understand me and to make them understand how I love them.

I wanted to spend some time with my mother alone, but I knew she would call Jamie, my perfect sister, the perfect daughter. I'm sure she thought Jamie would protect her against what I thought. I didn't want to be invasive, but I had always been. I reminded my mother of her failures, her imperfections because, in her mind, she had failed with me.

I brought her a dozen of multi-colored roses.

"Oh dear, they're beautiful. And you look...beautiful."

"Thanks."

"Jamie should be here any minute. She said she'll leave the baby at home so we could all talk. Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks." I sat in the yellow chair that I remembered swiveled side to side, but not all the way around. Now as an adult I sat straight, I didn't swivel.

"Well, it's my cocktail hour as you know."

"No, I didn't. You have a cocktail hour?"

"I never drink before five. What time is it?

"5:30."

"Ah, excellent, cocktail hour. I should wait for Jamie, but she might not have one either and then where would I be? Like waiting for a bus that never comes."

I knew I wouldn't be able to figure what the hell that meant so I didn't try. A martini she made with the habit of a worker ant and sat with her floating olives and clinking ice. I never remembered cocktail hour, but I've tried to forget a lot of things.

"Mom."

"Yes dear."

"I miss daddy. So much."

"Now dear, life goes on."

"I know, but I think of him all the time."

"That's because of the anniversary. It'll pass. All things pass. Just like your problems."

The front door swung open. Jamie stood there, perfect as ever. "Hello."

"Hi." I swiveled a little to see her.

"You want a drink?" My mother said with an air of more than one sipped martini.

Jamie stared. "Mom, I'm gonna talk to Fran outside for a minute."

"What's up?" I questioned.

Jamie walked outside, motioning for me to follow.

"You better go talk to her dear. You know how she is."

I arrived at the front porch confused. Jamie shut the door behind me. "I think you better just go."

"Excuse me?"

"Haven't you figured it out already?"

"What's that?"

"Mom's having a nervous breakdown. She's seeing two doctors and she didn't start drinking again until you called and said you were coming. Fran, you have been too hard on both of them. It killed daddy."

"Are you saying daddy's dead cause I'm a lesbian?"

"No, it's...just hard for everybody. Including me."

After several turns of disbelief I said, "Well, maybe I can help."

"Nobody wants you here Fran. Maybe when she's better, you can visit. I'll let you know."

"Yeah, right. This is perfect for you, isn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have your little lesbian sister, your crazy mom and a dead dad, so you look like the one who has it all together. You're still little Miss Perfect."

"I don't have time for this."

"Nobody asked you to come over here, Jamie."

"Fine go talk to her. Do whatever you're going to do and leave."

I went in. Jamie followed. Mom was making another drink.

"Mom," I said.

"Yes, dear. Oh hello. Fran, I'm so glad you're back because Bev Clark just called, her son's in town. I would love for you to meet him. He's a dentist, 40, never married, but hey that shouldn't matter."

My mother WAS having a nervous breakdown.

******

Helen shook her head in the dressing room. She knew. She understood.

"So what do I do?"

"Nothing to do. Forget it. Make your own family."

"I want to do something. I want to change things."

"Sometimes you got to just accept the bullshit. Even if it is your family."

"I wish I could accept that."

As I looked at her, I truly understood where she was coming from. A closeted lesbian-- of course she had accepted the bullshit. She had no choice. But was that me? Was that my decision as well?

*****

Eight o'clock, but I knew Robbin would be there. She answered the phone.

We talked, making plans. No more fear, no more hiding-- no more bullshit. Only the truth.