The Perfect Family (20 page)

Slapped a single human being.

But grasped my shoulder in support,

Clapped at my successes.

Now, he does not touch me.

It is punishment for being who I am.

I never thought I would lose those hands,

I wasn’t sure I could live without them.

I can.

But I don’t want to.

Lost

He was my best friend

For as long as I can remember.

Now I am a freak to him.

Who knew what lurked in a house

Which had always seemed so safe?

The unnatural silence,

The angry looks,

The deep and dark rejection

Which bludgeons my being every day.

Where did my brother go?

Those Days

I yearn for those days

When I ran barefoot through the grass,

Ate warm cherries off the tree,

Splashed in a growing boy’s rubber pool.

I yearn for the bedtime stories,

The visits to the Apple Farm,

The zoo, with all its scary animals,

And Mom or Dad next to me.

Now there’s
stranger danger
of a different ilk…

The beady eyes that track you down the hall,

The hushed conversation—

“Are they really?”

Or “That’s sick.”

Even at home, always before a safe cocoon,

There are pitying looks

And harsh words of disapproval and damnation.

The strain lays heavy on my head,

And even heavier in their hearts.

Maggie sank back into the couch pillows and stared at the journal. She’d wanted to know how Jamie was doing, and now she did. Her son was in pain, a pain born of the sickness in society that Maggie couldn’t control. Hell, she couldn’t even seal her own household off from this homophobic plague. It was invading all of them, weakening them, attacking her family’s emotional blood cells. And she had no idea what the antidote might be.

*

“My boys had a fistfight on the porch at dinner the other night.” Maggie was back in Melissa’s office on Monday afternoon, and had made arrangements to come weekly until Melissa left for a trip to Greece.

The therapist raised her brows. “Wow. That must have been devastating for you.”

“It was. I can hardly bear it, Melissa. What am I going to do?”

“Tell me what you’re concerned about. Start with the most important.”

“I don’t know how much of this conflict Jamie can take. I read his journal. He’s feeling really bad about what’s going on in our family.”

“After Mike’s and Brian’s reactions, I can understand that.”

A deeply buried fear surfaced, as often happened in this setting, and Maggie felt her eyes mist. “The suicide rate among gay teenagers is much higher than straight ones.”

“Do you think Jamie’s suicidal?”

“I never did before. Now I don’t know, and I’m so scared for him.”

“Has he shown any signs of suicidal behavior?”

Maggie knew what to look for: Did the person threaten to kill himself? No. Did the person start giving away personal possessions? Not that she knew. Did the person seem unnaturally happy because he knew he was going to end the pain? That certainly wasn’t the case. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Then I think he’s safe for now. Depression doesn’t always indicate feelings of hopelessness which can lead to suicide. Keep an eye out for the signs. We should also think about getting him somebody to talk to.” Melissa watched her for a second. “What about you?”

“Gretta asked me the other day if I had to choose between Mike and Jamie, who it would be.”

“And you said?”

“Jamie.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s the natural order of life.”

“But what if I have to choose between Jamie and Brian? I could never do that!”

“Then we have to find ways to keep that from happening. It doesn’t have to come down to a choice between your sons, Maggie.”

“I wish I could believe that. Right now everything seems hopeless.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here. I’m going to help you restore some of that hope.”

*

Feeling drained, Maggie dragged herself into the house after her therapy appointment. It always happened this way—she felt more optimistic than before she talked to Melissa, but totally enervated when the session was over. Her head hurt and her purse weighed down her shoulder. So she snuck in quietly through the garage, hoping to avoid whoever owned the unfamiliar car parked behind the Prius in their driveway—a friend of one of the boys, no doubt. All Maggie wanted was to retreat to the solace of her bedroom.

Voices came from the sun porch—one was female. As Maggie reached the end of the hallway, she heard, “Mom, is that you?”

So much for peace and quiet. Maggie straightened her shoulders and headed to the porch. Jamie sprawled on a chair, grinning broadly. She hadn’t seen him smiling like that in a long time. Someone sat in the high-back rocker but Maggie couldn’t see who it was.

Then the chair swiveled and she froze. Her purse dropped to the floor with a thud almost as loud as her heartbeat. Because sitting on her own porch was a woman she’d only seen in pictures, a woman who so much resembled Maggie in the flesh it made her breath catch.
Oh God, oh God.
“Oh, God.”

Caroline smiled and stood. “Hi, Magpie.”

At the nickname, Maggie’s eyes welled.

“Mom?”

“I…I…”

“It’s all right, honey,” Caroline said. “I know this is a surprise.”

One hand clapped over her mouth as years of loneliness, of feeling abandoned, of fending for herself after Caroline left overwhelmed her. “I…”

Caroline reached out. “Come over here.”

Maggie rushed to her sister. Caroline hugged her tight. The memory of other hugs resonated—when she fell and skinned a knee, when she saw her father slap her mother across the face, when Jimmy was born and Maggie was scared about who would take care of a new baby in the house. Solid, safe arms wrapped her up. Even her sister’s scent had remained the same. And the kiss on the head, the “Shh, baby,” were all familiar. Maggie relished the embrace.

After several moments, she was able to pull back. Caroline wiped Maggie’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Feel better?”

Over Caroline’s shoulder, she saw the alarm on Jamie’s face, so Maggie forced herself to calm. Caroline took Maggie’s hands in her own. Her sister’s were older now, though, heavily veined, with age spots, reminding Maggie of how much time had passed. She smiled at a familiar detail: Caroline still had one of the amazing manicures she’d favored back then, one she’d tried to duplicate on Maggie’s little nails by painting them pink.

Which her mother had yelled about.

Maggie cleared her throat. “I thought I was ready for this, but I’m overwhelmed.”

“I can see that.” Caroline bit her lip, a show of insecurity that gave Maggie more strength. She wasn’t eight and Caroline eighteen anymore. It wasn’t this woman’s responsibility to take care of her.

They sat on the couch, side by side, and all the while held hands. Maggie looked over at Jamie. “I guess you met my sister.”

Dark eyes danced with emotion, mostly mirth now. “Yeah. We were having a nice talk. She told me about when you were born, what you were like as a baby and little kid. It was seriously cool to finally hear those details about you.”

“And you have a seriously cool young man here.”

“She teaches high school, Mom. She’s even directed some plays. She works with kids like me.”

Caroline winked at Jamie. “I don’t know. I’d guess you’re one of a kind. Straight As. All the lead roles in plays. Even head of the Red Cross blood drive.”

Still smiling, Jamie stood. “I’m gonna let you two catch up.” He crossed to Maggie and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad for you, Mom. See ya,
Aunt
Caroline.”

“Later,” Caroline said.

Maggie turned to her sister and, hungry for details, studied her face. Caroline’s hair was straight and shorter than Maggie’s, longer at the sides and wedged in the back. There was no gray visible. She wore diamond earrings, a diamond tennis bracelet, and a gold pendant with a
C
engraved on it. Her dress was light peach jersey, fitted to a still trim body. She appeared chic and sophisticated.

Caroline was studying Maggie, too. “I can’t believe it. You’re a grown woman,” she said, soothing a hand down Maggie’s hair. “Beautiful.”

“You, too.”

“And your son. Could he be any more precious? And astute. He asked me right away why I came out early.”

“Why did you? Not that I’m not glad.”

“You said something was going on with you, but couldn’t talk about it. I sensed how conflicted you were. So I thought, hell, this is my sister. I took the last weeks of the school year off for what I told them was a family emergency and flew out. My daughter left Colorado a week ago with the car, so we met up here at about the same time.”

“Where is she?”

“At the cottage getting Chloe settled in.”

“I can’t wait to meet them.”

“I’ll bet. And I can’t wait to meet Mike and Brian.”

Briefly, Maggie glanced away. “The atmosphere is a little tense here, Caroline.”

“I know.”

“We’ve—”

Caroline squeezed her hand. “I know what’s going on, Mag. Jamie told me. That’s what I meant about being astute. He figured out why I came, and he filled me in on what’s happened so you didn’t have to.”

Bless that boy’s heart. It was such a good one.

Maggie hurried on to say, “It’s all right that he’s gay. Really. It’s just caused some strain here.”

“I understand.” The softly uttered words were rife with meaning. Caroline understood only too well how dysfunctional families could be when a child bucked the value system. “He talked a bit about school when he found out I was a teacher. I’ve worked with gay and lesbian teens in Colorado, Mag.”

Maggie blurted out bitterly, “The Catholic Church’s beliefs are hurting my family again.”

Shaking her head, Caroline sat back into the cushions. With the sunlight streaming in, Maggie could see a few crow’s feet around her eyes. “They did so much damage to us. I hate that they’re hurting you again. I thought they softened their views but not on this, I guess.”

“I’m sorry. What’s happening to us is bound to dredge up all kinds of negative emotions for you.”

“It does. But I knew I’d have to face them if I reconnected with you. And I chose to come here.”

Maggie wanted to ask her sister why she hadn’t contacted her before, if Teresa could find her so easily. But now wasn’t the time. “I’m so sorry about Derek. I know I said it on the phone, but I want to reiterate it in person. And you don’t have to worry about me. Just take care of yourself.”

“I have been doing that. But I’m here for you now, Mag, too. I want to be.” She gulped back emotion. “And I want to share Derek with you. Teresa takes after him. I brought pictures, newspaper clippings of some of his buildings.”

“I’m anxious to know all about him.”

A weight on Maggie’s shoulders, her back, even dragging down her legs lightened; the only other person who could do that for her was Gretta. The psychology professor in Maggie knew the sense of relief was residual memory from her very formative years where, until she went away, Caroline had always made life better.

Even if her older sister couldn’t change the situation they all found themselves in, just having her there would help Maggie cope.

*

Mike picked up the picture frame he always kept on his desk at work and periodically updated. In it were the four of them, this time in Cancun. Maggie was tanned and smiled at Tim, who took the photo. The boys appeared relaxed and easy with each other. Mike himself was grinning broadly. It seemed light-years ago that they’d all been happy. Now he’d never forget the sight of his two boys fighting on the porch and his talk with Brian after. He’d taken his son down to the church and they sat outside on a play area that Mike had helped build and Brian had spent time on when he was little. But he was no longer pushing a child on a swing; he was having an adult conversation with his almost-a-man son…

“Regardless of how upset you are, promiscuity is not an option, Brian. I’m shocked at your behavior.”

Brian had gotten belligerent. “Join the real world, Dad. Guys screw around. It’s no big deal.”

Instead of preaching, he said quietly, “I didn’t think that was the way we lived our lives.”