Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Art of Being Gay - 18. Do You Hear What I Hear?
Do You Hear What I Hear?
Tony stomped hard onto the porch floor shaking loose the snow that encrusted his boots. He brushed his green John Deere coat and then banged his Green Bay Packer hat against his jeans, the white stuff flying off the cap. He carefully brushed the last flakes off and put it back on his head. Sure, it was old and stained, but it was his favorite. Tony only then opened the front door and let the delicious warmth and scent of cinnamon apple candles greet him.
“Mom, you got any coffee for your freezing elf?” he called out. In the background there was Christmas music playing, it sounded like The Little Drummer Boy, one of his favorites.
“Come on in,” she called back. “Your dad and I are in the kitchen finishing things up.”
Tony took off his coat and hung it on the peg. He tugged off his boots and put them on the rug next to the radiator. In stocking feet, he padded down the hallway to the kitchen.
“All done,” he said, entering the bright, cheery space. His father was sitting at the table, a cup of something warm in one hand, the other hand laying on his thigh. He looked over and gave his son half a smile. The other side of his face was slumped and waxen.
“Thanks,” he said, licking his lips.
“No problem. The driveway is blown clear with plenty of space for everyone to park,” Tony said, rubbing his hands together.
“You’re a gem,” his mother said, pointing at the coffee maker. “Help yourself. I just made a fresh pot.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Tony said. “Are you ready for the herd?”
His mother laughed and continued carefully placing the vegetable sticks on the platter around a bowl of creamy tan concoction. Tony knew it was his mom’s famous clam dip. He walked over and grabbed a carrot stick off the neatly aligned pile. “Stop that,” she scolded, slapping his hand.
“Why are you going to so much trouble, Mom? That’s your wedding china,” Tony said. “It’s family and Patrick’s boys will have your good plates all chipped before supper even starts.”
“Evan and Kale are good kids. They know how to behave,” she said. “It’s a special occasion.”
“Yeah, it’s Christmas Eve, so?” Tony said, lifting his eyebrows in return. “You shouldn’t go to so much trouble for us.” Tony wanted to look over at his dad, but he didn’t. He didn’t want his father to think he was directly referring to his stroke. Therapy had started to help, but the man was still having trouble getting his face and arm to work right. He could walk unassisted, which helped. There were plenty of things he couldn’t do right now and sometimes Tony worried his mother was overwhelmed.
“Your brother’s bringing a guest,” she finally said, putting the last floret of cauliflower in place. “I’m not serving Christmas Eve supper on paper plates when we have company.”
“Oh God,” Tony moaned. “I hope he’s not like Scott.”
“I don’t think so,” his mother said. “Sounds like this guy is very good to him. Wes had one of his fits and this man stayed with him the whole time.”
“He better be,” Tony said, taking a drink of his coffee. “That so-called boyfriend wouldn’t even pick him up from the hospital that time.”
“Scott wasn’t the most thoughtful man,” she said, taking out a plastic container from the fridge. “He broke Wes’ heart.”
“He was a disgusting pig,” Tony said. “Dad knows.” Phil nodded his head, catching his wife’s eye.
“He wasn’t that bad,” Marilyn said, placing little pigs in a blanket on a baking sheet.
“Scott didn’t visit him once in the hospital when he had pneumonia. On top of it, he didn’t even tell us about Wes,” Tony scoffed. “He was an asshole.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” his mother said, shaking her head. “We don’t have to worry about Scott. He’s out of the picture.”
“Thank God,” her husband said angrily. “Tony is right.”
“Regardless, we’ll be courteous and welcoming to Wes’ guest. He’s a foreign guy, from Australia I think.”
“I’ll have a little chat with him,” Tony said. “My little bro doesn’t need some dickweed fucking around with his head again.”
“Don’t make trouble, Tony.” His mother put the pan in the oven. “And don’t call him your little brother when they get here. You know how much he hates that.”
“I know he’s older, but he’s always been so much smaller. I’ll be careful what I say,” Tony smirked at his father. Phil smiled and chuckled. He picked up his left hand and put it on the table.
“Don’t make trouble,” he said, but his eyes were twinkling.
“I won’t,” Tony said, crossing his legs. “But, I can’t promise the other boys won’t make comments.”
“I’ll have a talk with them,” Marilyn said, rubbing her hands on her apron. “He’s not that delicate.”
“Yeah, he is.” Tony laughed. “I wonder what the guy’s like. If he’s some Swisher Sweetheart, that’ll drive Aaron crazy.”
“Aaron needs to grow up,” his mother said.
“We just like to tease him,” Tony said. “You know none of us care that he’s gay.”
“I know but your brother is sensitive,” Marilyn said with a sigh. “It doesn’t help when you guys are so much bigger. You boys never gave him a chance.”
“He likes different things than we do,” Tony said. “That’s all. We like hunting and crap. Wes always had his nose in a book.”
“Well, be on your best behavior. I don’t want Wes embarrassed in front of his new friend.” Marilyn gave her son a stern look.
“I promise,” Tony said, crossing his heart. “When do they get here?”
“In about an hour or so,” his mother said, looking at the ceramic rooster clock on the counter. “You need to get home and clean up. You’ll be late.”
“We won’t be late,” Tony said. “I’m sure Sue is all ready to go and has Austin in his finest little outfit. Next year there will be two more of us here. Brandy’s due in a couple weeks, right?”
“Yeah. Are you coming to your grandparents tomorrow or will it be too much for your wife?” Marilyn asked. “She shouldn’t do too much. Having a baby takes a lot out of you.”
“We’ll see if we can make it. It’s two Christmases with her parents. If Sue’s up for it, we’ll stop by their house.” Tony put the coffee mug down and went over to his mother. “Don’t stress about Wes’ new boyfriend, okay? I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I know,” Marilyn said, hugging her youngest. “I worry about him.”
“I know you do. He’s a big boy living in the big city. He’ll be fine.” Tony kissed her cheek. “You have enough to worry about.”
“I’m right here,” his father said. “I’m not that bad.”
“I know, Dad,” Tony said, going over to give him a half-hug. “You’re doing much better.”
His father smiled that half grin and tapped his hat. “See you in a couple hours.”
“Bye,” Tony said and he walked slowly down the hall. God, he hoped Wes finally found someone decent.
***********
“Chad called,” Maureen said to her husband. “They’ll be here at six o’clock.”
“Oh, right,” Carl said, putting down the newspaper. “How’s he doing?”
“Sounds like he’s fine,” she answered. “Actually, he sounded more chipper than he usually does.”
“Yeah?” Carl said, leaning forward. “So what’s his friend’s name?”
“He didn’t say. Justin said his name is Roy. He seems to like the guy,” Maureen said. She went to the fridge and pulled out a can of Tab, popping the top and drinking from it deeply. “I don’t know how to act. I’m nervous.”
“Me too,” Carl said. He got up and put his arms around his wife, pulling her close. “He’s our son, Moe. We’ll talk to him like we always did.”
“It’s not the same,” Maureen said, pulling away. “I know I should get over it, but people still whisper about it. I know it.”
“No one’s talking about last summer,” Carl said. “But, for the record, I’m anxious too.”
Carl touched his wife’s arm. She looked at him with tears running down her face in black streaks. “I’m ashamed,” she sobbed.
“Come here,” Carl said, pulling her close. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Most people have already forgotten about it.”
“No!” she barked. “I’m ashamed of myself.” Now her face was red. Her nose was running and her chest heaved. “I can’t believe the things I said to him. To our son. I drove him away and it’s all my fault.”
Carl hushed her and held her tight. “No, it’s not all your fault. It’s mine too,” he whispered. “I’ve been a fool.”
“You heard what I said to him,” Maureen cried. “He’s been so distant and so detached and, oh, I was frustrated.”
“Maureen, sit down,” Carl said, his voice filled with anguish. “This whole thing is my fault. If I hadn’t been such an idiot, he’d never have been so alone.” He pulled out a chair and his sniffing wife sat down. “I knew about him and I gave him some really bad advice.”
“What do you mean it’s your fault?” she asked. “I mean, if someone had said Chad was gay, I’d have laughed at them, you know?”
“Moe, this is my fault.” Carl started crying himself. “I broke him. Our sweet, wonderful son is a mess because of me.”
“No,” Maureen said, patting his hand and pulling out a handkerchief from her sweater pocket. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah it does,” Carl said. He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. “When Chad was seventeen, he came to me. He told me he felt certain things, feelings about other boys. I gave him some God awful advice. That’s why he’s been so sad for so long. It’s because of me.”
Maureen sniffed again and took Carl’s hand. “What did you say?”
“I told him it was a choice. He could live a blameless life with a wife and children or he could become one of those sad, lonely men with nothing to live for,” Carl said. He coughed and reached for her hankie. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“So, all these years you’ve known,” Maureen said after a time. “You never said anything to me about this before.”
“I thought it was fixed,” Carl said. “It wasn’t. It was never right. I know that now.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Maureen said, her face now red and twisted with disgust. “He’s known since he was a teenager?”
“Yeah,” Carl said. “He knew a long time ago and I told him to suppress it, his feelings. I think that’s why he’s become such an unhappy and lonely man these past few years. I didn’t know it would come to this.”
“I always wondered why he was so upset on his wedding day. He looked like he’d committed a crime and not married the woman he loved.” Maureen looked around the kitchen. “No wonder Eileen was always so upset with him. She knew didn’t she?”
“I don’t think Eileen knew he was gay. I think she knew from the beginning Chad didn’t really love her like a man should love his wife,” Carl said. “She could tell.”
Maureen nodded. “I suppose she did. I could tell over the years he pulled away from everyone. Since the divorce, the only times I’ve see him smile, a real one that is, was when Justin was around.”
“Justin was the only thing he had.” Carl choked. “I can’t believe I did this to him.”
“Carl, he’s a grown man. He should have come to us again. It’s not all your fault. I knew he wasn’t happy and I should have said something. It’s my fault too,” Maureen said, pulling her husband close. “We’ll get through this.”
Carl looked up and wiped his eyes. “I know we will. I went and talked with Pastor Larson about it, what we should do.”
“What did he say?” she asked, softly.
“He agreed with me,” Carl said, a sad smile creeping onto his face.
“He did? That’s a surprise,” Maureen said.
“He agreed I was monumentally stupid in giving Chad that advice,” Carl said. “We talked for some time.”
“What did he say we should do?” Maureen asked. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
“He explained what an ‘affirming’ church is,” Carl said. “That’s where to start. We tell him we love him no matter what.”
Maureen took a deep breath and let it out. “I can do that. It’s how I feel anyway.”
“Then we get to know him again. We welcome his friend into our home and make them both feel comfortable,” Carl said. “These last four months without our Chad around have been horrible.”
“I know. I’ve missed him so much,” Maureen said, giving her husband an unsure smile. “Do you think that will be enough?”
“We will do our best and I’m sure he will too,” Carl said. “We raised him that forgiveness is part of being a good person. He’s always been that way.”
Maureen leaned over and put her head on her husband’s shoulder. “I hope so. I really do.”
In the background, the radio played the ‘Carol of the Bells’, its bittersweet minor chords soothed them and reminded them it was a season of forgiveness and a time of letting things go. Even the most painful of transgressions are forgiven and disappear with the fading of the bells. However, the bells could never be unrung or forgotten.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpLkynbjl5s
*********
Madeline looked up from her computer at the sound of her name. “Kendra! You missed Roy. They left this morning,” she said, looking over her boss’ mother in a rather snazzy looking outfit under a dress coat.
“I didn’t come to see him, dear,” Kendra giggled. “I need to pick up a few things before tonight.”
“Brave woman coming out on Christmas Eve for some light shopping. It’s been a madhouse today,” Madeline said. She scanned the woman and waved her finger up and down. “Are you going to church?”
“Not tonight.” Kendra laughed. “I have a date.”
“A date?” Madeline asked, astonishment very apparent. “Aren’t you a married woman?”
“Not anymore,” Kendra said. “We signed the papers last week. It was Del’s idea. He’s never getting out of prison. He told me it was time to move on. I finally agreed with him.”
“Good for you,” Madeline said. “What changed your mind?” She paused and tapped her fingers on the counter. A bright expression crossed her face. “It was Roy wasn’t it?”
Kendra nodded. “It was. Seeing him find a good guy made me realize I was waiting around for nothing. I can’t waste the rest of my life with a husband in prison. I’m moving on.”
“So, you have a date on Christmas Eve?” Madeline asked, smirking at her openly. “That’s different.”
“Stan’s parents are gone and his sister’s in California. Since Roy’s going down to Iowa, I figured why not? He’s making dinner for me at his apartment,” Kendra said. She had a twinkle in her eye.
“Where did you meet this guy?” Madeline asked, leaning over the counter.
“Believe it or not, online. He accidently friended me on Facebook and we started talking. We met for coffee and he took me out for dinner and a movie. He’s quite nice,” Kendra said, blushing. “I was so nervous, but he’s easy to talk to.”
“Third date? I know what that means.” Madeline laughed.
Kendra turned redder and put a finger to her lips. “You don’t need to tell Roy about that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Madeline said. “Have a good night.”
“What are you doing tonight, dear? You’re not alone are you?” Kendra asked.
“I’m going to my brother’s for an evening supper and then tomorrow at my parents,” Madeline said.
“That sounds nice. Well, I’d better get the flowers and ice cream and skedaddle,” Kendra said. “Merry Christmas.”
“And to you as well,” Madeline said.
She watched as Roy’s mother disappeared into the aisles of the store. Most of the crowd had already come and gone. The store was emptying out with a few harried men rushing about grabbing things from shelves. The roar of the crowd was gone. For the first time that day, Madeline could hear the music playing in the background. It was ‘Do you hear what I hear?,’ one of her favorites.
Madeline sighed and quickly gathered up the papers around her area. It was almost time to close up. As she looked at the figures on the computer, a line from the song caught her attention. She paused, listened, and thought about what comfort that one phrase gave her.
“The child, the child
Sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light.”
It made her shiver a little, thinking how true that was. Each child brought with them the promise of happiness and joy. A tear fell from her eye as she thought about her own little gift. She wondered where he was. No doubt, he was giving his family goodness and light.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ad7KU9bCTAM
**********
From: hpeterson@minnemart.com
Roy,
I don’t know how to do this, but I know it burdens me. Hopefully you’ll forgive me.
I’m sorry about Thanksgiving. I’ve spoken with Wes and explained. I think he understands. We’ve made our peace. He said I should write this because you’ve been such a good friend. I hurt you as I did him.
When I found out you and Chad were together, I thought it would bother me. It didn’t. In fact, seeing the two of you together felt right. You are a special couple of guys and I was happy for you.
What I couldn’t get past was how empty it felt when Wes touched me or looked at me. It was like I was playing a part I’d never even auditioned for. You and Chad are a matched set with deep devotion, that’s obvious. Every time I looked at you and saw what love really was, it made me uncomfortable.
When I saw Silas and remembered our weekend together, it brought back emotions I thought I’d gotten over. I met him after I’d broken up with Matthew and tried so hard to get past the heartbreak. It didn’t work. All those feelings came back and I couldn’t handle it. I panicked and in the end hurt all of you.
I got home and curled up on the bed. I felt so empty and yet in so much pain. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s how I felt. I also thought I was the sorriest person in the entire world unable to feel the closeness others feel. If I couldn’t have that with someone as wonderful as Wes, there was no hope for me.
That’s when I saw the picture of Matthew and me. It dawned on me I had that feeling once. I threw it away in a fit of anger and despair. Then I realized I’d done the same to you guys.
I’ve never really had close friends before. I know I’m different and I make people uncomfortable. You accepted me though. We had some great times together. I miss that. Maybe you’ll forgive me and let me back in.
I keep writing this in different ways, but Wes told me how I said it didn’t matter. He said I should open up my heart and let you look inside. That’s what I’m trying to do.
Can you forgive me?
Merry Christmas. If you want to share this with Chad, go right ahead. He’s like the brother I never had. I wish you both much happiness.
Sincerely,
Horace Peterson
http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/39364-the-art-of-being-gay/page-13#entry494587
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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