Dad was drunk. He didn’t notice me sliding my gingerbread pawn on the winding spaces past Gumdrop Mountain. His eyes instead were on pictures perched on the fireplace mantel. In one I’m ten, grimacing in a soccer uniform. In another I’m on stage at a dance recital, my arms raised overhead in a triumphant pose. His face reeked of disappointment.
Yeah, I cheated by moving my game piece out of turn, but I wanted to win. To make a point. Dad finally focused when I crossed the candy castle space. Waving my hand over the rainbow colors, I announced, “I’m gay.”