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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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 Scarlet F - 25. Chapter 25 - It Was Time

Brian and I stood at the bay of the Brooklyn beach in suits. Brian holding the Urn.

"I hope this is the right thing to do," I said. "Dad and I never talked about...this."

"Yea, but who doesn't want their ashes spend around a beautiful beach," Brian said.

"Yea, he probably would have thought it'll be nice."

We stood there. Both one of us waiting for the other to open the Urn.

"You got a poem or anything?" Brian whispered to me.

"No, I don't have anything prepared."

The Edwards, Tony, and Owen stood behind us. I turned around to see to everyone.

"Would anyone like to say something?"

There was a silence as everyone looks around waiting for someone to step up. Mr. Edwards finally stepped forward.

"Jim...wasn't a saint. He definitely had flaws. Like we all do. He was troubled. But he had a big heart and he always wanted a better life for his sons. Now maybe he'll finally be free."

Everyone awkwardly clapped as no one was sure what to do. Then Matt stepped up.

"When James and I were kids, I used to think Mr. Esposito was cool. He was...unconventional. I didn't understand 99% of his jokes but I still laughed. I don't defend him, I'm not saying anything he was right." He looked over at me, "But he was trying to better, and was better at the end. I guess Mr. Esposito can teach us that you always turn your life around."

Everyone clapped. Matt and I met eyes. It was almost like a he was the brightest thing against a dark background. He turned back and walked back into the crowd. I turned to Brian and he handed me the Urn.

I stepped up closer to the water. I opened the Urn and sprinkled the ashes into the water. I watched it flow away into the ocean. My dad, flowing away into the ocean.

I gasped for air. Brian patted me behind as he then took the Urn and took his turn dumping the ashes.

***

The next day, we loaded a couple of suitcases in my car. Matt spread out the map.

Tony stood with me under the hood, "Everything looks good. You should have no problems."

"Thanks, Tony."

"Are you going to behave yourself this weekend?"

"Yes, Sir."

"So...what's the status on you two?"

"I don't know, but I hope...some fresh air, might help us figure it out ."

Tony nodded and hugged me tightly, "I am so proud of you."

***

An interstate road trip is a true test of love.

For the first hour, it's fun. Drinking milkshakes and singing really loud when your favorite song comes on the radio, smiling for every picture.

For the second hour, the same songs are being played over and over again but you like them so it's okay. Both of you have a full bladder but nobody says anything about it, fewer smiling pictures.

By the third hour, the songs have become annoying and both of you are irritated as you have to debate on where you should stop so you may finally release yourself.

By the fourth hour, everyone has peed. Everyone has stretched their legs. Everyone has rehydrated. Someone has changed the station. However, it's no longer fun as you begin fighting over road signs. No more pictures.

By the fifth hour, every note they sing gives you a headache. You don't if you're there yet. You don't know if you're right, but they are definitely wrong.

By the sixth hour, you're both zombies. Nobody is singing.

***

There were two queen beds. That's what we had requested. I laid awake that night. I turned on the light and walked to Matt's bed.

"Mac," I said shaking his arm.

"What?" He groaned as he rolled over.

"I need to talk to you."

He sat up and moved over. I sat down in bed next to him.

"I lied to you."

"About what?"

***

It was time.

It was time to do what I came to this town to do. I knocked on the off white apartment door. I took a deep breath squeezing my hands in my jacket pockets. I lowered head and mumbled the little speech I had practiced. I didn't lift my head when the door opened. I peeked through my hair at the yellow waitress uniform with a white apron. Right above her chest was a name tag that said "Gina".

I lifted my head. She had changed a lot. For one, the wild big curly hair that was fashionable in the '80s and was gone. She now had her hair cut right above her shoulders tame and wavy. Two, she had makeup on, but it wasn't as much as she used to. Instead of the colorful glitter, she now had natural tones, well except for her shining red lipstick, but red lips worked for her. Seeing her again made my throat swell up.

My speech was suddenly gone, all that came out was, "Hi Mom."

She stared at me with her hand over her mouth. "Jimmy?"

I nodded.

She threw her arms around my neck. I tightly hugged her back.

She ran her fingers through the back of my head.

"You cut your hair." She cheered before finally letting go of me, "I like it."

I nodded trying to stay calm, but failing "I like yours too."

She put her hands on my checks, "You've grown up really handsome."

She took a breath, "You wanna come inside for a bit?"

She held the door open and motioned me in. Her living room was mixed matched but nice and clean.

"Can I get you something?"

I politely declined. I sat down on her loud flower print couch.

"So where are you living nowadays? Last I heard you were living with that nice teacher."

"I'm now living in a college dorm," I said.

Her eyes grew big, "College? Wow."

"Yea." I nodded nervously shifting my feet.

"I have a college boy."

"Um Listen...I came here to tell you some big news." I inhaled, "Dad died."

She dropped down next to me. Her eyes were closed and she put her hand over her lips.

"What happened?" she sniffed.

"Heart attack." I simply said.

She shifted, "How are you doing?"

I folded my hands, "Feeling every emotion, yet none at the same time."

She went quiet for a while.

"It shocks me you know." I said, "It shocks me that I actually miss him."

She was still quiet.

"Mom...how are you feeling?"

"Guilty," she said. "When we were locked up in that apartment and he was beating us and all...I was so angry that I used to...I used to..."

"Wish he was dead?" I finished her statement nodding my head, "Yea, I used to wish that too."

She grabbed my hand. I squeezed hers tightly. I heard her start to cry.

"I did love him, " she cried. "Maybe he wasn't 'the love of my life', but I did love him. He was charming, funny, sweet. And of course, I hated him. And I thought I wanted him dead...but now..."

I place my head on her neck, "I know. I understand."

She kissed my forehead, "I'm sorry I wasn't there...and I know we didn't leave off in the best foot."

"Yea." I shifted away, "When you freaked out on me when I told you that I'm gay."

She looked at me with her mouth open, trying to speak but was struggling. But I knew what she was going to ask.

"The answer is yes, mom. I'm still gay."

"Oh." she said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" I screamed, "Trust me I know. And if you don't believe me ask all the guys that have fucked me."

She gave me this look of confusion and disgust, "Why this such a big deal to you?"

I shifted myself on the couch facing her sideways, "It's a big deal because you were the fucking one person I thought would understand me. The one person saw me without the make-up. And I trusted you with the biggest secret of my life...and you tore me apart. You know dad was completely open and cool about it. He actually kind of excited that I had a boyfriend and everything."

She looked at me with a blank stare.

I got up from the couch.

"No reply uh? Well then so be it. If you don't want to be in my life. Well then so be it." I tried to wipe my tears, "But I think it would shame because I love you so much."

She brushed her hair back and sniffed.

"I love you too, you're my baby. And maybe if you give me some time. Come on you just threw a fucking lot on me." She got up, "I ain't even been able to process my husband's death and then you throw this gay stuff at me again." she shook her head, "I never stopped thinking about you, honestly. Just give me some fucking time."

I nodded.

"Okay Whatever. I didn't come here for this."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the tiny bottle, "I came to give you the news and to give this back to you."

I held out the bottle.

She smiled a little when she saw it, "Maria red lipstick. You kept it after all this time?"

"Yea, of course," I choked. "And now I'm giving it back."

"Why? I thought you loved this one?"

"I did." I said finally calming down, "But I don't need it anymore. I don't need to wear makeup anymore."

She took the bottle and tightly hugged me.

"Let's please try to keep in touch," she whispered.

"Okay," I whispered back. "I would like it."

***

I walked into the motel to see Matt looking through his suitcase. Without a shirt on. The second he saw me, he strangely tried to cover the chest. As if we haven't already seen each other naked.

"I got a stain on my shirt," he felt the need to explain. "So I'm looking for a clean one."

I just nodded, taking my coat off.

"How did it go with your mom?"

I sat down on his bed.

"Wasn't the best, but wasn't the worst," I said. "I'll give her some time."

"So how is she..."

"Just stop." I blurted out.

I grabbed his arm.

"I don't want to talk about her now." I took a breath. "I want to talk about us."

He moved away from me.

"Are you serious this time?" He screamed.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't put an answer together.

"Should I go? " he commanded.

"No." I bit grabbing his arm again.

"Then what am I here for James huh?" he huffed, "Are you going to sleep with me then leave me crying again?"

Then I grabbed his neck, "No."

He pushed me away. Hard. I pushed him down. He pulled me down with him. We rolled around on the carpet fighting each other. But then we started breathing heavy. I think it was all the physical activity. My back was against the rough carpet. My fingers were on his neck. Matt's hands were squeezing my chest. Our legs intertwined. I stared up at him and he stared down at me.

"Isn't it funny, how things change?" He said, "When we were kids we used to wrestle and roll around like it was nothing. But now we wrestle with a whole new meaning..."

I lightly kissed on the lips, "I love you. I've never stopped loving you and I miss you every minute you're not with me."

He moved down and kissed me. Hard. I, of course, returned with the same passion.

He slipped a hand underneath my shirt, "I'm sorry I overreacted about...well, everything. I shouldn't know better. I'll try to take things more slow and not freak out." He whispered.

I kissed his neck, "I'm sorry, I shut you out. And I'll try to be more open to you and never leave you crying ever again." I started unbuttoning his jeans. He took the hit.

***

I laid down next to him placing my head on his chest.

"Hey Jamie, I guess what I've been thinking about?"

"What?" I chuckled.

"I think maybe I'll become a film teacher."

"I think you would be good at that Mac."

"Yea, I love film, and I would love to teach kids some special."

I put my hand on his stomach, "Well as long you don't start looking like a teacher."

Matt chuckled, "Oh so you won't love me if I get old and fat."

"Will love me if I get fat and ugly?" I asked.

He laughed again, "Like that's ever going to happen."

I looked up at him, "What is suppose to mean?"

He smiled, "You're James Esposito, you're always be hot."

I got up to find a fresh notebook as well as my old black one. After I dug for a decent pencil, I sat back down next to Matt.

"Jamie, is something happening here?"

"Mac, I going to write a book, about my life and everything."

On the top, I wrote on a clean page.

My earliest memories were sitting on my busted up bed hearing my parents yelling, hearing the breaking of beer bottles.

Please, what you thought! Feel free to message me on how I can improve the story. Sorry for the spacing issues.
Copyright © 2019 Another Gay Writer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Chapter Comments

A good solid start, may things get better and better.

 

Thanks for sharing your writing.

 

Perhaps find an editor, someone who can help you with tidying up terms, tenses etc,  your basic story is good in my opinion, writing however is not my forte.

Edited by frigidjason
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