North Meets South, Worlds Collide - 87. Coming to Grips

We enjoyed our pre-Christmas time together, but Alik had a few more days of school before he was off for the Holidays. Tony went into his office to meet with new clients and there were a few that week. On the coming weekend Sasha, David, and Alik were going to David’s parents’ home. So, Tony and I were going to my parents’ home. However, while David and I were not busy that week, we searched for the best venue for David’s and Sasha’s wedding in Boston. We looked at possible locations for the wedding and the reception. We really wanted one location for both. Almost no church would have it…well, that wasn’t true. There were a number of denominations that were not condemning us, but David was going more toward a non-religious location with a person, no particular religion needed, presiding over the ceremony.

“I met Pastor Terry and Reverend Pat who did your wedding,” David commented. Then he bumped me with his shoulder as we sat in front of the two monitors as we looked over the different websites, “You and Tony had three ministers!”

I nodded with a chuckle, “We sort of had to. Reverends Pat and Terry presided over a wedding that wasn’t legal. Dr. Kenmore married us in Boston legally.” I shrugged.

David looked again at the webpage and frowned, “I don’t care about all this! I know Sasha doesn’t. A simple wedding in the barn at the McKenzie farm would do fine for me.”

“I know,” I agreed. “I felt the same thing, but this wedding is for more than just you or Sasha. It’s for the family and friends.”

“It’s a spectacle!” David argued. “Sasha and I will be the spectacle!”

“Yes! You will be,” I nodded. “A spectacle no one there will forget!” I then looked at David closer. “You really don’t want to get married in the McKenzie barn. Trust me. You have many uncles and aunts that would make it more than a little uncomfortable.”

“True,” David nodded. “It’s sort of smelly in there.” He really wasn’t being funny or anything when he said. “Does it remind you of what happened between you and Gary?”

I looked surprised, “Sure, it does.” Seeing David’s face cloud over, I sighed and put my arm around him. “David, Gary and I were very young. We were trying to figure things out and…” I nodded at my thoughts, “to be honest, it wasn’t terrible. In fact, I liked it!”

“You did?” David smiled a little evilly.

“Yes, stupid,” I slapped him lightly on the arm. “It was sex.” I shrugged. “Take the whole family taboo out. We both know that isn’t taboo because of the whole genetic thing…and really that is just because of the whole deformity issue. Cousins have done this…even siblings have done this forever! Parents and children. Sex feels good.” I nodded, “Granted, Gary and I never did the penetration thing, but it was a kind of sex. I liked him touching me and from his physical reaction, he liked my touch, too. It was naughty and we both knew it. Otherwise, we would have done it in the house. We were touching each other in forbidden places.” I sighed again. “Up until after Gary had problems afterwards, I liked Gary very much. We were family and I knew him all my life. I loved him.” I smiled at David. “I still do.” I chuckled. “He was an older cousin that liked me! We shared some moments that were tender and felt so good.” I shrugged my head in a reluctant nod. “If it had been Sherry, Mary, or Sue…that could have been a problem later with the risk of pregnancy, but with Gary? With me?” I shook my head. “We were kids!” I smiled at him. “We didn’t do any more than you and Michael did.”

David’s head hung in defeat, “I should never have told you that.”

I shook him grinning, “But you did, David! You did!”

He looked up quickly and pointed at the screen, “What about that one?”

Looking at the screen, there was this nice big room. It was…masculine! The walls were wood paneled with paintings of game. By that I mean lions, elephants, hippopotamuses, the spotted fur spread across the wall like a tapestry also…the head of a lion in mid-roar, a deer with large antlers. There was a large head of a bear on the floor and a fur rug was across the floor. There was furniture in the massive room with a pair of matching black leather couches in front of a roaring fire in a stone fireplace big enough for a whole tree! The name of Game Room took on a new meaning with a couple of elegant pool tables sat with enough room for both tables to be used at the same time. A third table was there, but it had no pockets. A snooker table. This was where the word Game Room came from! Literally! The whole building was called The Game Room. A play on the word. Hunters would bring their kills here, their game here, shower, change, and relax together and play games like pool, snooker, or cards…smoke cigars or pipes. There were round tables with comfortable chairs men could gather around and play those card games like poker. There were large plush leather chairs around where men could sit and carry-on conversations or read. A wall of books on one nearby wall. There were other rooms, one was a room that clearly was a dining room with similar tables and chairs that spread across the room with not one, but two fireplaces: one on opposite sides the room that was also decorated with a paneled wooden wall from floor up to a chair rail. Above the rail were large paintings of men on horseback dressed for a fox hunt. Another painting of a man in the early dawn, rifle held loosely in one arm, his faithful dog ready to fetch the hunter’s kill of duck or pheasant. A flock of birds in the sky above in the distance silhouetted in the dim morning light as the sun was rising somewhere unseen.

“The Game Room is a club originally for men that enjoyed the hunt,” I read out loud. “It was founded one hundred and fifty-seven years ago in downtown Boston!” I read impressed. “The refined gentlemen of Boston Society would gather to relax and enjoy their freedom, play cards, billiards, smoke…free from the watching eyes of their wives and other High Society Members! A men’s only club until 1983 where the first female member joined.” I know my eyebrows rose as I read. There was the shadowy picture of another room that clearly was a bar. “Now, there are several bars inside The Game Room, this was a secret bar with three hidden entrances from The Game Room with two hidden emergency exits underground where gentlemen could escape any raid during prohibition. This Speakeasy proudly has never been raided, but the bar is popular with guests today as well as during the prohibition.” There was a picture of the mansion’s outside that was grand and proud. “It boasts rooms for guest members to stay in well-appointed rooms with private baths and service to the rooms by five-star gourmet kitchens in The Game Room.” The image of a few rooms where guests could stay in rooms that didn’t look like hotels rooms, but bedrooms in private homes. Very elegantly furnished with king-sized beds or two queen-sized beds with nice carpeting and wall to wall. Nice marble tubs in the bathroom with a lot of counter space. Large mirrors on the wall. A shower big enough for several people to be in at once. (Who would do that?) “A gymnasium where guests can work out using state-of-the art equipment and two private bathrooms for the guests that were not staying overnight but could shower and change. A private indoor pool and a heated outdoor pool” I sat back a little. “Damn! I wouldn’t want to leave! Ever!!”

David chuckled, “I think that was the point.” He read on. “It’s available for private parties and weddings!!” He read more. “It says they don’t discriminate for race or religion.” His head grudged a nod at that. “I wonder about gay weddings?”

“In a state where they were the first to allow gay marriages?” I asked. “You have the one thing that counts. Green. They will not discriminate against that.” I waved at the screen. “There’s one way to find out. Call them and find out!” I grinned at him. “Have your debit card ready.”

“I need to talk to Sasha,” David said urgently. “He’s got to approve all this…”

I nodded, “Yes, but first you need a place, then you need a date for the wedding, invitations to the spot for the wedding…” I watched David’s eyes widen. “There’s more than just saying I do in front of people. First, you need to talk to whomever at The Game Room.”

Modern technology was great. I simply clicked the arrow cursor on the number there for contact and the phone rang at The Game Room.

Massachusetts was the first state to allow gay marriage in the United States. Other states were beginning to allow them, but Massachusetts was first. The woman that answered the phone assured us, mostly David, a wedding would be a wonderful event. Gay, straight, multi-racial…they didn’t care. The problem was the day of the wedding…or rather the weekend. They were already booking up fast. The only weekends left was the last weekend in May or the third weekend in June. When we asked about the third weekend in June, we found out a couple that booked it a year in advance were not getting married now. Breaking up happened. David jumped on that date and gave his card to hold the day leaving a sizable deposit. If the couple made up and wanted to marry now, it was too late to have it there. We promised to come to Boston and firm the date with another greater deposit after Christmas and before New Year’s.

After we disconnected with the woman at The Game Room, David sat back with a sigh, “Now, Sasha has got to marry me.” He waved at the screen. “I’ve never spent that much money for anything except my car!”

I laughed throwing the arm around him again, “And you’re not finished! You have invitations to send out, RSVP cards to get back, menus to glean through…dishes to decide on, entertainment to plan, decorations to agree on, a theme to plan…”

“A theme!?” David balked.

“Yes!” I nodded grinning at my cousin. “You’re gay!! Don’t tell me you don’t know about the theme! You saw To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! I saw it with you! You know about themes!”

“I’m not that gay!”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not prying,” I smiled. “Did you and Sasha make love last night? Or yesterday?”

David was nodding, “Yes and yes.”

“Then you are that gay!” I argued. “There is the wedding cake! We’ll be in New York soon and we can get Gilbert to do your cake like he did Tony’s and mine! You remember that cake?”

“Oh, yeah,” David chuckled. “The gay rainbow colors hidden inside!? Yeah, I remember.” He snapped his fingers, “And the falling leaves over the white icing with those leaves in the gay rainbow colors. I’ll never forget.” He smiled. “I’m surprised our fathers ate any.”

“The fear of turning gay,” I nodded. “I thought that, too.” I turned David to look at me better. “This is yours and Sasha’s wedding. You direct which direction the theme goes.”

“I need help!” David wailed. “You know what is needed, I don’t. I don’t know if Sasha knows.”

“We’ll ask him,” I smiled. “It will be okay. Tony and I will be there to help you.”

David’s smile faded a little. “Will Tony be in treatment at that time?”

I shrugged a nod, “If he begins on time…the first of January…he will complete six months of chemo and radiation therapy. They will do a scan again and biopsy. He should be at the end of the first round in June.”

David smiled, but weakly, “We need to be here for you, not the other way around.”

We bumped our heads together gently, “And you will be. There’s nothing more exciting or distracting like planning for a wedding.” I chuckled.

David chuckled with me, but added, “The two of you are so important to me…” he did laugh harder briefly, “and Sasha. We wouldn’t have even met without you two. Now, we’re getting married. Would you and Tony stand for me as our best men?” Then he hurried on, “Only if Tony feels able to! No pressure. I will completely understand if he…”

I hugged David closely, “I know he’ll agree. I’ll be honored.” Then I shoved him back, “Wait a minute! I thought Michael was supposed to be your best man! You were his!”

“So?” David shrugged. “I can have more than one best man! You can see how well that went.” He hit me lightly. “You and Tony didn’t even have a best man, you had best parents! I was there! I remember.” He threw his hands out. “I can have as many as I want. I might have four best men! And a maid of honor!”

“Is that right?” I smiled and challenged.

David nodded, “Alik’s at school, so…” he smiled with conspiracy. “Tasha will be here by then…and Igor…I just love that name…Igor,” then he moved on. “Of course, they have to come if asked, but Sasha and I talked about having them stand with us at the wedding.” He looked at me hopefully, “What do you think?”

“Having your future husband’s son’s mother and her future husband stand up as you marry Sasha!?” I grinned. “I love it!!”

“So, do I!” David laughed. “Any of the McKenzie brothers that don’t approve will have a fit!!”

“All the more reason to do it!” He and I laughed harder.

“I’m even inviting Michael’s soon to be ex-wife!” David insisted.

“Why do I feel that isn’t to show you’re a bigger person, but to smear shit in her face?” I asked.

“Both!” David confessed and both of us were laughing harder.

“You two are having too much fun,” Sasha said as he leaned at the doorway to the computer room. We hadn’t heard him come in.

“Can you have too much fun?” I asked David.

“Oh!” David snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “You had bagpipes and you danced that Italian circular dance…what was it?”

“The Tarantella?” I knew what he was asking for.

“Yes!!” David snapped his fingers again at me. “What if we had guys dance the Highland Fling? And…” he looked at Sasha, “You’re Russian!” I watched Sasha’s eyebrows rise. “What’s that dance you guys do with all that squatting, kicking, and twirling?”

Sasha paused only a second as he thought quickly, “The Soldiers’ Dance?”

“Is that the one?” He typed quickly and watched as the computer pulled up a sample of what Sasha had said. In uniform these young men did the dance in a kind of circle, then one and then the other did the rapid squats, kicking their leg, and they did an elaborate swirl in a circle, all the while the others were behind him dancing, too. The footwork seemed impossible! “Yes! That’s the one! We can do that!”

Sasha’s eyebrows went up further and his eyes got wider, “Who’s we? You want to do that!? You want me to do that!?”

“Can’t you?” David turned to Sasha with a big smile. “You are Russian! And you were a soldier!”

“I have, but not in over a decade!” He pointed at the screen where the man was doing a spinning circle and moving around in a big circle. “You’ve got to be nimble to do that and I’m out of practice!”

“You’ve got seven months to get back in practice!” David teased. He laughed and raised his hand to stop Sasha’s panic. “No, you’re off the hook. You’re the one getting married. We can hire dancers to perform the Highland Fling and the Russian Soldiers’ Dance. It will be entertaining!”

Sasha looked unsure.

“You are Russian, Sasha!” I chuckled. “David is Scottish. Both elements of those cultures should be embraced.”

“I’m trying to become an American!” Sasha grumbled.

“And you will be!” I nodded, “You’ll be a Russian-American!” I touched David, “David and I are Scottish Americans. Be proud of who you are, Sasha!” I looked at Sasha concerned as I thought of something, “You will have an American Passport when you board the ship?”

Sasha nodded, “I will and have extra paperwork to get back on the ship. Otherwise, they won’t necessarily let me back in the United States.”

“You’ll have documentation here in Charleston, on our persons, and on the ship,” David said firmly. “You’re marrying a lawyer. If they try to deny you, they’ll have a Hell of a fight.”

I grunted, “They would not want that.” I hit David lightly, “You said you weren’t gay enough. Those were great ideas!”

“Anybody home?” Tony’s voice asked loud.

“No!” The three of us said at the same time.

 

Sasha insisted he make dinner and David went to pick up Alik. We weren’t allowed to help Sasha as he was making something new for us. I saw chicken was being used but not allowed to see what he was doing. Whatever it was, he was happy doing. Tony walked into the kitchen area to get a refill on his never-ending mug of coffee. The number of bags of his precious coffee we went through had to be astronomical. I could worry about his coffee addiction, but in light of what he was dealing with now; I would battle that later.

“Something smells good!” Tony inhaled deeply in appreciation.

Sasha lowered the big spoon he was using in defeat, “Fine.” He turned. “It’s Russian Mushroom Julienne and Kurnik.” Then he glanced at Tony to see if he got it.

Tony paused on his way our coffee maker. We had a sturdy coffee maker, but as much as he used it, we probably needed to have it checked. We would be in serious trouble if it quit working because of mechanical problem. Tony only stopped a second when the light went on in his eyes, “Oh! That’s that chicken pie!”

Sasha nodded with a smile, “Yes!”

Tony’s pride on shrunk a little as he confessed, “I saw some books on the counter the other day. The word Kurnik was there. One was a neatly printed book, and the other was your notebook, I guess.” Then Tony looked at Sasha irritated. “Your handwriting is terrible! In Cyrillic and English!”

Sasha looked superior s moment, “I can read it just fine.” He turned to Tony and pointed at him with the large spoon. “That’s how you learn, Smarty. You see it and when it’s mentioned, you remember!”

You had to laugh. People in one house for a long time can get short tempered and there are often fights. Not here! “How can it be Russian Mushroom Julienne? Julienne is a French word. How is it Russian?”

Sasha turned irritated at me, “Because I make it! This Russian! That’s why.”

I raised my hands in surrender, “Okay.” I chuckled. “That the Kurnik is essentially a Chicken Pot Pie?”

Sasha shook his head, “It is not!” He stated firmly. Now the spoon was pointing at me, “Your pot pies don’t have the cream cheese in the pastry. We have the chicken broth…” his mind was going over the ingredients and he stopped. He nodded as he reached his conclusion, “Okay, so maybe it is.” He admitted weakly and then looked a bit angry at me. “I’ve had your pot pies. They are very good, but when you see this…it won’t be like your pot pies!”

I laughed again, “Okay!”

Sasha grinned, “While Alik isn’t here yet…” he looked at Tony and me, “I’m sure David asked you as you were making plans for our wedding…he and I agreed we would like you and Mitch to stand with us as Best Men.” He said to Tony, “I know you will be in treatment then…”

Tony’s face changed to a more serious and heartfelt compassion, “I know Mitch agreed, but it would be an honor, Sasha.”

I pointed a finger at Tony, “I don’t understand the pain you will feel having your esophagus burnt, but you’ll need to eat to keep your strength up. Think of it as an incentive.”

Tony sighed, “Yes. I will have a reason to eat other than my own survival.”

I brightened, “We will be up there with Tasha and Igor!”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “To Hell with tradition! We’ll have a groom’s son’s mother up there with her future husband!”

“Yes!” I nodded. “My cousin will be marrying a man, who I think of as family now, will legally be family after the wedding…a son, whose mother will be maid of honor, or if she’s already married, matron of honor…she’ll be family of a sort then. We have got to come up with a title for Igor! He’ll be family, too!”

Tony chuckled at me, “You’re just loving this!”

“I am!!” I nodded heartily.

“All because I waited on your table on the Oosterdam,” Sasha shook his head.

“Ah, Sasha!” I smiled at him. “We became friends during that first meal and that song all of you sang from A Chorus Line. We all fell in love with you!” I suddenly thought of something. “I need to remind you and David to include Scott, Glen, Seth, Eric, and even Ian and John! John and Ian broke up, but knew you, Sasha, on the cruise. They should at least get an invitation.” I reasoned.

Sasha nodded, “Yes, I’ve neglected staying in touch with them as I promised.”

“Not Mitch!” Tony said proudly, “Though I will say he and Glen email a lot more than the others.”

“Yes,” I mockingly confessed. “Glen and I have been having a tawdry affair by way of the internet since we left the cruise.”

Sasha smiled, “He fell in love with you since you rescued him and Scott from that redneck when in St. Maarten’s. I wish I’d seen it.”

“You saw a little of it the other night with Mitch and Smelly Guy,” Tony lightly laughed. “He had that guy on St. Maarten on his knees!” Tony bragged. “And redneck guy was a big man!”

“I keep in touch with the others, too.” I defended. “Glen is a gabber! I email him at least once or twice a month. Eric and Seth about once a month…Eric mostly. John and Ian about once in six months.” I smiled. “John’s and a new love have moved in together. Ian’s still looking. Glen and Scott will probably be at the wedding as they live in Rhode Island. They could drive up.”

Tony nodded and turned to Sasha, “They all have a connection with you.”

“I hope they all can come,” Sasha smiled and touched Tony gently. “Don’t push yourself. If you can’t do it. Don’t.”

Tony smirked, “I’ll have Mister Worrywart watching me carefully. Not to mention you and David.” He nodded, “And by then Kathy and Al, Melissa, my nephew David, Louise, Mike, Drew…”

“We’re all family,” I said logically.

Sasha’s Kurnik didn’t look exactly like a chicken pot pie. It did taste a lot like a chicken pot pie. I’m sure it was the power of suggestion, but the flavor tasted…bolder? No Russian I knew was subtle. How did Sasha make the string beans and potatoes in the Kurnik taste more like the string beans and potatoes!? Not an overwhelming taste of salt, pepper, onions, or any other spice or ingredient. It was just more. I couldn’t be jealous of Sasha. I loved that big, stubborn Russian! I did! I also loved the big Italian. My referring to Sasha as the Russian all the time wasn’t an insult. It was who he was. To be very honest, I loved every Russian I’ve met. I knew there were Russians that weren’t nice at all. They were just people; good and bad. Tony and I have just been lucky.

The hurricane known as Alik hit our home. Followed more quietly by David.

“Uncle Mitch!” Alik came rushing up, not running. “I finished that book!”

I grinned at his excitement, “You did?”

“I did!” Alik nodded dropping his backpack on the ground. “It was exciting! There were these caves…” he explained to me and the others in the home, “there were these huge diamonds in the caves. Some the size of boulders!” He was getting more excited. “The people of Krakatoa lived in these mansions and each night they had dinner at each mansion, which were families from different countries! French, Italian, Chinese, and each mansion served meals from those cultures! They had inventions in each home, like the never-ending sheet! When the sheet needed changing, they just turned a crank and a freshly washed and dried sheet rolled to replace the dirty one…”

“What happened to the dirty sheet?” Sasha asked loving that his son was having a good time explaining what he’d read. Of course, he looked to me to see if Alik was accurate.

I waved at Alik, “he told you! They turned a crank and the dirty one was rotated into the slot in the floor and washed in the machine below the floor! The fresh one rose out of the floor!”

Then Alik brightened again. “Oh! And each family hosted all the families on the island for dinner once a month. Another house had tables, all round, lowered into the floor and the whole thing was cleaned easier as the whole thing was cleaned from wall to wall, it was one flat surface…” Alik was more animated as he motioned with his hands and arms as he covered the imaginary with a sweeping motion, “floor, and tables were cleaned in one swoop!”

“That’s right,” I nodded, and I was getting excited by Alik’s enthusiasm. “Yes, I remember that!”

“Yes!” Alik said happily. “There were earthquakes on Krakatoa all the time, but not under their mansions! They had these huge diamonds as a foundation!” He looked at Tony, “and we know that is nothing harder than diamonds!” He stated with practicality and then to me again. “The volcano was going to blow up and they had to flee. They had this huge platform they all escaped on with the twenty balloons! They each jumped off the platform using balloons for each family to slow their fall to earth over where they wanted to go! Each family had enough diamonds to start again anywhere! Professor Sherman crashes the platform in the ocean where he’s picked up. You think it’s over. He had no proof of what he told the Explorers’ Club.” He bounced. “Everything on Krakatoa was destroyed! Then at the end of his lecture to the club members, he rolled his suit jacket up showing the two large diamond cufflinks from Krakatoa. He was doing it again!!” Alik stated. “The balloon, going around the world, he had the money now! Because of Krakatoa! He wanted to go again!!”

I hugged him quickly, “I told you you’d love it!”

“Are there any more stories about Professor Sherman? Were there other trips?” Alik asked.

I shook my head, “Not about William Sherman, but William Pene du Bois wrote other books.” My head waggled a nod. “He was an illustrator, but he has written some good books.”

“Now,” he said more depressed. “Now I have to write a paper.”

“So?” I shrugged. “What you just told me was just fine. Write that down!”

“I don’t think I can write well in English,” Alik lamented.

“Then write it in Russian and translate it after you’ve finished,” I waved at Tony, David, and Sasha. “You have several people here to help you.”

Alik grudged a nod and then turned to Tony, “And thank you, Uncle Tony.” The way he said it, he wasn’t thanking Tony at all.

Tony’s eyes widened, “What did I do?”

“You told me about the Christmas Spider!” He pointed at Tony. “I was telling my teacher and my class about it…and now we all have to write about our Christmas traditions from our home countries!”

Tony smiled but put his hands on his hips, “This is my fault!?” He said louder. “You shouldn’t have run your mouth!”

“Yes! It is your fault!” Alik smiled at the fact he was being shouted at again, “How did I know we were to write papers about our Christmas?”

“Fine,” Tony nodded. “I’ll let you use my computer, and you can look it up the story of the Christmas Spider and it’s sources!”

“After dinner!” Sasha added in the parental tone. “When is it due?”

“Friday,” Alik answered.

“Good, you have time,” Sasha said. “Podnimite sumku s knigami naverkh yi prigotovites k uzhinu.” (Take your bookbag upstairs and get ready for dinner.) He saw our curious looks. “I don’t want him to forget he’s Russian.”

“He won’t,” I assured.

 

Alik got great marks on both of his papers. The weekend arrived and Tony and I headed to Asheville the Friday morning. It was not Christmas yet, so there wouldn’t be anyone in Derby visiting Dad’s childhood home. You know there would be family in Derby, but those were the ones that didn’t like Tony and me. Except Aunt Hilda. Uncle Earl’s wife? Who revealed her father’s Nazi past after we introduced Sasha? Just a reminder. Anyway, we would go to Candler, or Morgan’s Branch, rather to visit my mother, father, and grandmother. Grandmother was still with us, but pretty much homebound now. Mom and Dad had moved in with grandmother to care for her and that big house. Grandmother was doing well…for her age. I know she was in her eighties now, which she would not admit. She was healthy for now. She used a cane now, but there were many on her side of the family that lived into their nineties and even early one hundreds! Now, that Tony was fighting an illness, I realized no one knew how long they had. Like Tony, she was here! So was Mom, Dad, and me! No one had guarantees! We drove Tony’s sporty Mercedes this time. I was worried about the lack of trunk space! What would Tony do without all those changes of clothes!?

All my perspectives changed. Arriving at grandmother’s house we saw a couple of strange cars. There was plenty of room, but none were cars that belonged to my sane Uncle Earl (Mom’s brother), Uncle Norm and Aunt Mary. Getting out we spotted Dad coming across the field from the house I grew up in. The relationship between my dad and I vastly improved and things were good. In spite of what my father tried to do to make me straight, I had some fond memories of this place. Yet, it didn’t feel the same now that my grandfather was gone. Even Joe, that ever-faithful dog was gone. There were a couple of horses in the pasture and a few cows in another. Dad waved at us as he entered my grandparents' yard.

“Hello, sons!” He greeted hugging me and then he hugged Tony.

“Hi, Dad!” I greeted back. “Is everything alright over there?” I thumbed back at grandmother’s house.

Dad looked guilty, but huffed, “Fine. I just had to get away from here.” He waved at the big blue house.

Tony and I looked at the house and I asked, “Why? What’s going on?”

“The WMU,” Dad said bitterly.

My nod and smile was because I knew what that meant.

“Who?” Tony had no idea who that was.

“The church’s Women’s Missionary Union,” I explained to Tony. “It’s a Baptist thing.”

“Oh,” Tony answered, but still wasn’t getting it. “And that’s…bad?” He asked not certain why.

Dad looked toward Heaven and sighed, “Lord, forgive me.” He shook his head and waved at the house, “Those six women with your grandmother and mother would test a saint!”

I had to chuckle and asked Dad, “Is Mrs. Kinkel still on the board?”

Dad nodded, “Yes.” He looked at Tony. “I mean test one of your saints! They are all a bunch of busybody gossips. Why they come by is just to get more material to spread around!” He waved his hand at the house again. “Gossip, gluttonous, back-stabbing…” He looked at Tony. “Mrs. Kinkel is our church’s Chairman of Deacons wife.”

“Is the church still giving you problems because of us?” Tony asked.

Dad gave a reluctant shrug and shook his head, “No, our attendance is up! Stewardship and giving is up.” Then he narrowed an eye and pointed at us. “I give them the other cheek if they do.”

I grinned, “Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the cheek on your face?” My eyebrows rose up and down knowingly.

Dad himself chuckled, “You know me. I would never…”

“No!” I said quickly and patted Dad’s arm, “Of course, you wouldn’t.”

Dad pointed at the house again, “They don’t dare cross your grandmother or mother.” He stated proudly. "Your grandmother in particular.”

“No?” Tony asked.

“She can put them in their place easily,” Dad laughed. “They realize it after they leave!”

Tony pointed at the house over his shoulder, “Not that sweet little lady!”

“That sweet lady is a Southern Belle!” I grinned. “They’re tough!”

The door opened and a group of women came out of the front door. Company came and went through the front door. Family and friends used the back door. Grandmother saw us and raised two triumphant arms and shouted happily, “My boys!”

“Hi, Grandmother!” Tony greeted with a wave. It was on purpose.

“Tony! So good to see you!” Grandmother said happily and sincerely. “You have to come up here, I can’t get down there easily.”

Mom came out and waved, too. “Hi, sons!”

The ladies on the porch weren’t even waiting to get in the cars as they began whispering between themselves.

“And ladies,” Dad said putting arms around my shoulder and Tony’s. “Spread the good news! My sons are now legally married.” He said proudly.

I looked at Dad in disbelief, “Who are you?”

“We married in Massachusetts,” Tony said quietly to Dad. “Except there and…”

“Nonsense,” Dad said loud enough to be heard. “When this country caches up with the other countries…” he leaned confidently to us, “and it will.” Then he addressed the women again. “My sons will already be married!”

“I ask again,” I said. “Who are you?”

Dad smiled at me, “I’m your father. You called me your daddy! Remember? You called me that to get to get me to see what I was missing? I’ll not risk missing any more. I love you, son. You’re a good man.” He turned to Tony. “I love you, too. You’re a good man but I’ve known him a bit longer…”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Tony chuckled.

“Do I have to come down there?” Grandmother asked loud shaking her cane at us. “Get up here!”

“Coming!” I said and headed up to the porch followed by Tony where we were hugged again by grandmother and mother.

There were thirty years between my father and I, yet he was a man that was fit. Okay, he had a little more than he needed. He was in his sixties! He didn’t have a barbell kind of body, but he wasn’t pear shaped. He would wave at the farm and state he didn’t need to work out. The farm was his gym! Not one of the McKenzie men were fat. They all worked on farms. Even Uncle Bernie who lived in Raleigh had what he called “a garden.” It was no small patch of earth, no. He had bought a house with two acres of land. Aunt Judy had sworn the “farmhouse” he moved them into was barely livable. It was over a hundred years old and had been on a farm. Raleigh had grown and soon it was in the suburbs. Over the course of forty years Uncle Bernie, with the help of his brothers occasionally, got the house in top notch shape. His “garden” had everything from corn, beans, potatoes, herbs, and no Southerner could call themselves a Southerner without tomatoes. The garden covered an acre or more! I remember seeing it and wasn’t impressed. No competition about size here, but the “garden” we had in Morgan’s Branch covered several acres! Only, we used a tractor. Uncle Bernie just used himself and hand-tools like hoes and rakes. I knew Uncle Bernie’s Garden would be bigger if he had more land. I know Sueann, Gary, Michael, and David worked in said garden. So, did Aunt Judy…when she wasn’t slaving away in that big house! Cooking, cleaning, and raising her brood! Mom always laughed when people asked what work she did. Her reply that she did exhaustive, backbreaking, thankless work for no pay! It was rewarding and she challenged anyone that said she didn’t work to keep up with the work she did.

It was something in the McKenzie DNA. We were farmers! The red earth and the need to plant in our blood! Like it or not, it was in my blood. I loved the farm! Moving into the condo hadn’t been easy. No, it was very luxurious. I had a hard time with that, remember? The house I grew up in was my great-grandfather’s house. My grandfather’s father! Grandfather had the Victorian house built for his new wife but lived in the house I was raised in while it was being built! That’s what you did in the South! Someone in the family had something you needed or could use, and it was given! Grandfather had paid for the construction of the new house…on his land! We knew mortgages, like land mortgages, and we paid when needed. Land and homes were passed on. That’s what we did. Oh, and when construction was needed, the contractor knew the McKenzie men were to be included in the labor force.

I remember when Mom and Dad remodeled the kitchen and downstairs. I was six or seven and I was told that Daddy loved Mama, but she would drive him crazy! She wanted the kitchen updated with the appliances and cabinets…but when it came to “the stove,” she wouldn’t budge about that. It was her great-grandmother’s cast iron stove she gave to grandmother. It was a monstrosity! All black with the name Romantic on the black oven door. I felt sorry for the men back then that moved it! It weighed a ton! I never tried to pick it up, but I knew. If the power went out, which happened…we were never hungry or cold. Mom insisted that the stove remain. It was still there. Big, black, and still a little scary.

Yep, there was a rabbit again. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Dad was in good shape for a man in his sixties. He still had black hair, with gray temples and gray mixed in the black, but he was healthy. Mom was, too. Farm life was a good life. The McKenzies all had the farm life. Even my Uncle JC, the eldest of the McKenzie men, who was in his upper seventies was healthy. He didn’t work as hard as his younger siblings, but he retained a thinner frame than many men in their seventies. Sherry’s grandmother, my Aunt Margorie, who was the eldest of the McKenzie children, was in her eighties. Sherry’s father Clint was my father’s age! Cousin Clint had nieces and nephews younger than he was! It blew my mind when I realized Uncle Clint wasn’t really my uncle, but my cousin just like crazy Uncle Earl’s son Carl who was a baby! It took a while for that information to sink in. Take your time if you need it. Remember, Grandmother McKenzie was barely a teenager when she married my Grandfather McKenzie. Aunt Margorie came less than a year after the wedding. No birth control. Then Uncle JC…anyway, Grandmother McKenzie thought her days of being pregnant were done when she was in her forties! Wrong! Out popped crazy Uncle Earl. Then Grandmother McKenzie was done.

Physically, the McKenzie family was very healthy. My Aunts and Uncles were very attractive…until they opened their mouths to show how ignorant they were. They weren’t stupid but clung to what they knew was right. My Dad saying what he did to these ladies visiting my grandmother and mother just…wasn’t him! I loved my father. I always did. I love my parents and grandparents. I hated what Dad did to chase the gay away from me. He feared for my life. He would have done anything to get me to be straight. He loved me enough to make me hate him! He would do it willingly. It didn’t work…the Aversion Therapy or making me hate him. It was hard to separate the hate for what he did for who he was. That was love. Yet, at Tony’s and my commitment ceremony, the first wedding here in Asheville, he and Mom gave me away to Tony. They were even Best Parents for Tony as they stood and witnessed our commitment. Dad had come almost one hundred and eighty degrees on his views. At least on the gay issue. He was leaving the judgements up to God.

Those WMU Ladies were excusing themselves and heading off toward their cars. I will hand it to them. They at least waited until they were in the cars before talking about what they’d seen.

“That will give those women about a month’s worth of gossip,” Dad said happily as he came up to the porch.

Mom chuckled, “It’s always interesting how the story changes. Who knows how it will be by Sunday?”

“Next Sunday it will be even worse!” Grandmother told us.

“The fish that got away?” I asked with a smile.

“Precisely!” Dad nodded.

Tony was getting it, I think. “You know, Tony. That fish you almost caught that gets away…” I held my hands not even a foot apart, “is suddenly this whooper,” my hands went about two feet apart, “that was struggled with for hours before it gets away.”

Tony nodded, “I only fished once.” He shrugged and grinned. “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

Grandmother was waving good-bye to the ladies of the WMU as they drove away. Unashamed and unfazed. “So,” she turned and was pushing us in the house, “You’re not strangers. There’s food for a snack, lunch, or just desert…there’s a fresh coconut cake in the refrigerator for Mitch and yellow and chocolate cake for Tony.”

 

We had a great time with them. Mom was a McKenzie, yes, by marriage and she was an excellent cook. Tony was a little wary of the fried chicken we ate for lunch. It was delicious, but he was looking uncertain at the chicken.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered to Tony, but I suspected what the problem was.

“Since you told me all those years ago about the chicken we ate; happily clucking in the barnyard…then on the plate…” He pointed at the chicken we had left, “That one was, too, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, “Yes.” I grinned. “The ones you pick up from the market was, as well.” I motioned toward the chicken, “She just didn’t travel as far to get to the table.”

“But those are at the market!” Tony hissed. “They are meant to be consumed. They aren’t moving around, reacting to your voice…being alive!”

Mom smiled at Tony having heard all of it. “Ours is fresher.” She chuckled. “It’s never seen a refrigerator.”

I patted Tony’s arm, “He’s a city boy.” I sighed. “He doesn’t know any better.”

 

Grandmother may be elderly, but dementia was not taking her over. No, sir…or ma’am. She was sharp. It was Sunday morning when my grandmother pulled me aside.

“What’s going on?” She demanded in her way. Quietly.

I wasn’t ready for this. “What do you mean?”

“With Tony,” Grandmother pushed. “There’s something going on with Tony.” Her eye narrowed in my direction. “I gather it’s something very important. Possibly very serious.”

I sighed, “Grandmother,” I began. “I can’t. I promised.”

Grandmother nodded, “I see. You can’t deny there is something.” Her gaze was mildly intense. “All weekend, whenever something was mentioned about the future…Tony got this look. He was distracted by something. He wasn’t upset, but he wasn’t happy. He quit joking. Just a moment, then he came back to himself.”

“Grandmother, I can’t,” I moaned.

She nodded again, “Because you promised. I understand.” Tony was walking by in search of his next cup of coffee for the morning. Grandmother stopped him. “Whatever is going on with you, Tony…” she saw his eyes widen as he looked at me. “Don’t go blaming him. He would never betray you.” She chuckled. “No, few things can escape these old eyes anymore. I gleaned this for myself.” Her hand went up and caressed his cheek gently. “We are family. You can trust us. Whatever is going on, you don’t have to be alone.” She looked at us. “Both of you.” Her hand caressed my cheek next.

Tony’s eyes lowered and he looked away a second, then looked back at my grandmother, “That’s some ability you have.”

“Honed by decades of life,” she looked at him again and pointed at him. “There it is again. That look. When I spoke of decades of life. Something is threatening the decades of life for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Tony admitted quietly. “I have cancer.”

Grandmother nodded again, “I see.”

“It’s treatable!” I hurriedly added. “He’s in stage one or two. The doctor says he has a good chance of beating this!”

“So, there is no issue?” Grandmother concluded. Her keen eyes traveled over Tony and me. “Oh, I see. There is a good chance of beating this, but there is also a chance of not beating this.”

“Yes,” Tony admitted.

“Swearing Mitch to secrecy will do what?” Grandmother asked. “What will you get?”

“I don’t want to worry anyone,” Tony confessed.

Grandmother gave him a compassionate look, “They should worry.”

Tony looked very uncomfortable at that.

“I would be more concerned if they felt nothing about it,” Grandmother stated simply. “They care about you!” She smiled a little sadly. “No one wants to be the bearer of bad news. To cause others you care about to feel bad about what you tell them, but don’t deny them the opportunity to be there for you.” She patted Tony on the chest. “You have always been there to help others.” She gave a genuine smile to Tony. “I got a glimpse of the man you are the first time Mitch brought you here all those years ago. The man you are came shining through when that horrible man nearly killed Mitch and did kill Sasha. I saw you never leave Mitch’s side…not once! I heard about what you did for Sasha and his son. What you did for Mitch’s cousin David. However, you were helping them. Now, they can help you. You are a generous giver, Tony. Be a grateful receiver.” Grandmother pointed at Tony. “You do your friends and family a disservice if you don’t share this with them. Let them show you how much they care about you. Nick, who could stand a visit or two with his great-grandmother, will worry. Your sisters, brothers, nephews, and nieces will worry. Because they should worry. This is a very scary road you are on. I understand you want to protect them but stop it! You have a doctor and a nurse as a brother and sister. You have lost people in your family, your father, and your mother. They have all seen it before. It may be difficult, but it is very necessary. Don’t be so independent. Let them help and support you.” She sighed and cocked her head. “Your doctor says it can be treated. Great! There are stages you will go through. There’s anger, and there’s deniability. Pretending it’s not there won’t make it go away. That’s the denial stage. There is the bargaining, where you promise certain things if this all goes away. That doesn’t work. Trust me. I tried. There’s the anger…” she looked at me, “Has he gotten unnecessarily angry yet?”

I shook my head, “Not with me.” Then I remember on the Queen Mary when he shouted at God. “Wait! Oh, yes. He did. On the Queen Mary. That was before we knew it was cancer.”

Colin grudged a nod, “I yelled at God.”

Grandmother laughed lightly, “Good! God can handle it.”

I grinned at Tony, “See? I told you that!”

“Catholics don’t yell at God,” Tony said quietly, but was smiling.

Grandmother nodded and looked at me again, “Be prepared for more. It will come. You might even be the target.”

Tony’s eyes widened, “I would never…”

“No!” Grandmother raised her hand, “It won’t really be about Mitch, but he will be there. It won’t be your fault.” She looked at Tony and then at me, “Either of your faults. Remember that.” She waved her hands up in helplessness. “Why are we talking about this?” She pointed at Tony as her finger jabbed him gently. “You don’t even know the outcome of the treatment!” She pointed at me and did the same thing. “And you don’t take offense at things said to you! You know he loves you. I know you love him. I saw that day one! Don’t let that go.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Tony and I said at the same time.

Dad came in the kitchen area and the smell of that cologne Mom liked him to wear greeted us almost at the same time as his appearance. He looked very sharp in that pinstriped suit he wore. Dark navy color and his hair combed back and in place. “Well, I’m off. They can’t have Sunday Morning Services without me.”

I smiled at Dad. “You are the preacher! Your name is on the marque!”

“How many attends now?” Tony asked with a grin.

“We have twelve-hundred on the roll,” Dad explained. “We had about six hundred attending Sunday Morning Services, but recently it’s shot up to about eight-hundred with guests.”

“Which has increased because of his messages about forgiveness and not judging others,” Grandmother said proudly. “We can see and hear him on the television now. He’s very popular now.” She looked at Tony and me. “You know where he got those new sermons from.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that, “And Sunday Evening Service? Prayer Meeting?” I looked at Tony. “Sunday Evening is what I say is the real church. Training Union.”

Dad nodded, “Sunday Evening has about four hundred. Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting has about five hundred.”

“Prayer Meeting?” Tony asked.

“They serve dinner Wednesday Night,” I explained. “All those returning home from work and school can get the chance to meet and pray but adding a meal of the Gospel Bird is an added incentive.”

Tony grinned, “The Gospel Bird?”

“Fried chicken! You had some Friday for lunch.” I said logically. “There are other dishes, but fried chicken is always there. Even if it’s KFC, Churches, Popeyes, or homemade…the fried Gospel Bird is there. All the fixins, too.” I said fixins like a Southerner, “Salads of chicken, tuna, egg…it’s there!” I said happily. “You come for the service and enjoy good food.”

Dad smirked, “Or they come for the food and endure the service.” He looked at Tony and me. “I wish your felt comfortable enough to come with me today. I don’t care what those people will say. I know you go to church every Sunday.”

I hugged my father, “Thank you, Dad. We won’t do that to you.”

Tony shook his head, “I was excommunicated from the church I attended as a Catholic.” He smiled. “We won’t put you in that bind.” He brightened. “We’ll be there!” He waved at the Great Room and the television, “By way of the television! We’ll be watching and listening.”

Dad did head off to church. Mom didn’t go anymore if grandmother wasn’t able to go. That day grandmother stayed home with us. Uncle Earl and Aunt Pat were coming for lunch, so Mom got things ready for lunch. Tammy and Dana were in college, so they had their own places to be. We hadn’t told anyone but Dad, Mom, and my grandmother we were coming.

I had listened to Dad preach all of my life! I admit it. I knew most of his sermons by heart now. He would change things in it to make it speak to today’s congregation. This sermon I did not know. “The Reason for the Season” had been done. His approach was about Mary and Joseph. Joseph could have shunned Mary because she was pregnant with a child that was not his! He at least was going to put her away “quietly.” Yes, there was an angel that appeared to Joseph who confirmed that Mary was pregnant with a son conceived by God. That didn’t save Joseph and Mary from being judged by the others. She was pregnant! When was the marriage? The Bible doesn’t tell us. When Mary started showing way ahead of time…she was judged. Joseph was judged because he married her. It had to be his child! The people didn’t know! If they told the people, it was God’s baby, they’d think Mary or Joseph were delusional! This was a season of not judging anyone. Friends and/or family that did something you don’t approve of. Until you understand what’s happening, do not judge! Then he admitted there was a marriage he did not previously approve of, and he was wrong to judge. He was doing God’s job. He was not qualified! God’s wisdom was far beyond his and saw the hearts of these souls. No one on Earth was qualified. You are wrong if you do. He spoke of women that came to visit the previous week…he never said who, but they knew who he was speaking about. He mentioned the gluttonous lady, and she was over two hundred and sixty pounds on a five foot and six-inch frame. He mentioned that one was now married to a man she lived with while he was married to another woman. He mentioned the woman who was envious of others wealth, one’s pride. All should be forgiven. He mentioned someone that left over a decade ago and it was not known if they were dead or alive. I knew that was my sister. This was a special season. A time for family and coming together with forgiveness and acceptance. Help them as needed but accept them. Let God do the judging.

The service was good! Of course, Dad was the preacher, so he was one of the last to leave. In that time, Uncle Earl and Aunt Pat arrived and were surprised to see Tony and me. The good time just happened. We knew and loved each other. After lunch and after my favorite coconut cake, and Earl’s…Tony held his hand up before the table was to be cleared. “Just a moment.” He cleared his throat, “I need to tell you all something. I don’t want to stop the good feelings we have now, but…” he paused. I reached over and touched his hand. He smiled at me and kept on going, “A very wise woman told me that denying or ignoring the issue wasn’t going to change things. Recently, I got some news…” he sighed. “I have cancer.”

My parents, Uncle Earl, and Aunt Pat looked shocked, but listened.

“It can be treated!” Tony hurried on, “It will be hard as it is in my throat. I was born with Achalasia. It’s a deformity I inherited from my father. The cancer is because of this deformity. It’s stage one or two and my doctor gives me positive chances, but the chemo and radiation…the radiation will literally burn the cancer from my throat. Eating will become a problem as swallowing will hurt. My treatment begins right after New Year’s Day. This will be hard, but it will be hard on Mitch. I know he’s determined to stick by my side.” He squeezed my hand. “I know he will. For six months I will undergo treatment. Then they will test me again to see if it worked.” He shrugged. “My telling you might be foolish. It may go away all this drama will have been for nothing, but…”

“It may not,” Dad said quietly. It was the McKenzie way of thinking. It wasn’t pessimism, it wasn’t optimism. It was simply realism. Okay, the McKenzies ran with the reality too far.

“Dr. Keogh thinks it will work,” I said positively.

“I hope so,” Dad said seriously.

“Think positively,” Mom hissed to Dad. “Pray, hope, anything but don’t be…such a McKenzie!”

“I am a McKenzie!” Dad shot back. It wasn’t in anger, but more as comedy. “I’m not going to sugarcoat things.” He waved at me. “Mitch is a McKenzie!”

Mom eyes closed, “I tried to inject more Sams into him but that McKenzie thinking just keeps rearing it’s ugly head.” She grumbled and looked at my father’s face. “Did I say ugly? Grossly hideous!” She looked at Tony. “You have to make it.” She pointed at me. “Perhaps you can help him overcome any remaining McKenzie thinking.” She hit Dad lightly in the arm. “Think positively! That’s an order!”

Dad rolled his eyes.

Tony chuckled, “I’ll do my best to do both.”