If It Fits - 24. Chapter 24

October 3, 1995

“What do you mean Uncle Jim doesn't have another brother?” Ace demanded. “If you have a brother, he has a brother.” JP stared at them, seemingly unable to go on. He really didn't give them enough credit. Seeing his distress just made them want to reach out and help him even more.

“Jim and I don't have the same father, but Brian and I do,” he said softly, almost too quiet to hear, but they heard him.

“What? This makes no sense at all,” Ace blustered. Ace usually blustered.

JP handed his three children each an envelope. Inside there was a copy of a letter, which he proceeded to read out loud to everyone else.

June 22, 1936

Dear John Paul,

You are only one day old now, but by the time you read this you will have turned 26. The first thing you'll be wondering is why I waited until you were 26 to give you this letter and trust. I'm using my own life experience to influence my decisions. It wasn't until I was 26 that I was mature enough to play an active role in Crampton Construction, so I'm hoping you have matured as quickly as I have.

To the point. My son, Jack Crampton, is not your biological father, and I, concurrently am not your biological grandfather. Some nine months ago your mother had a brief affair with another man. I was aware of it, because I know everything that happens in town, but your father was not and still may not be. I did not choose to interfere in the emotional aspects of their marriage. There are certain legal matters that did require attention, and I took it upon myself to settle those on your behalf.

Your natural father is Bill Hendrickson. He is probably unaware that you are his natural son as well. As I write this letter, those who are aware of your true parentage are me, your mother, and George Hendrickson, Bill's father. All have sworn to maintain that silence. I doubt that your mother is aware of this letter or trust, so, assuming that George and I are dead, you are the only person who is aware of the contents of the packet now in your hands.

You may ask why silence was deemed vital. There are several reasons. First of all, and most importantly to me and George, we wanted to maintain the reputations and integrity of our families. We have all worked hard to reach the positions of responsibility and stature we now hold, much too hard to risk it over a family scandal. Next, we felt that you would have a more normal and supportive childhood if there were no conflicts over your parentage. I hope that has proven to be true. And finally, such a revelation would probably dissolve two marriages, and that would undoubtedly harm the environment that your siblings would be raised in. It seemed to be in everyone's best interest to preserve confidentiality.

There were, however, legal issues to resolve. As a son of Bill Hendrickson, you would presumably be an heir to his estate, which, God willing, should be quite large. Such a legal claim would undo all of our efforts to keep this issue silent. Therefore, acting in your interests, I have negotiated a settlement with George Hendrickson, whereby he has provided $40,000 in exchange for you renouncing your patrimony. I accepted that renouncement on your behalf.

I had considered just absorbing the money into our family, but I didn't feel that would be fair to you, as it is your patrimony, not ours. Therefore I have placed it in trust for you, and, hopefully it has been managed well and will provide you with substantial resources of your own.

I would like to ask, or if need be to beg you to strongly consider maintaining the confidentiality of this whole affair. You will undoubtedly evolve to be a smart young man, and I'm sure you can see the damage that revealing this information would inflict. I don't know whether I liked you, or you liked me, so I can't rely on our relationship to influence your decision. I'm a difficult person to know, and even more difficult to love, so chances are that wouldn't work anyway. Instead, I rely on your inherit intelligence, compassion, and logic to respect my wishes.

Regardless of what happens, I pledge to you that I always will treat you and consider you as my true, biological grandson. I hope, as you read this, that you feel I have honored that pledge.

Alexander Crampton

I scanned the group. Frank and Jack, being on the periphery of things, were interested, but they weren't emotionally invested in this revelation. Neither, for that matter, was Isidore. Brad sat there, smug because he found out before his siblings. Ace was grappling with the issue, trying to figure out what this all meant, and what it would mean for him. And then there was Claire. I saw JP's eyes on her, begging her for forgiveness, begging her to still love him.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Ace demanded. “Why did you keep it a secret for so many years?” I was about to jump down his throat, but Brad intervened.

“Because of what it would have done to Grand. Think about it, Ace. You knew him just as well as I did. Think how he would have reacted if he'd have found out. Remember how happy he and Grandmaman were, especially in those last years. You would ruin that?”

“That's not the point,” Ace said.

“It is exactly the point,” Claire said. “When you got this letter, you were sucked into this whole conspiracy,” she said to JP. He nodded, and a tear fell down his cheek. JP never, or hardly ever cried. “Think about it Ace. Would you have really done anything differently? Would you?” she demanded. None of us had expected her to take up JP's cause.

“I don't know,” he sulked.

“You're being an ass,” she said. He glared at her, and then backed off. When push came to shove, both of her brothers were afraid of Claire. “But after Grand died, and Grandmaman, why didn't you tell us then, Daddy?”

“I should have. I should have,” he said. Now there were more tears, flowing down his cheeks. “I guess I was a coward. I figured that there was no reason to, there was no point. What would change? Why stir up a bunch of old skeletons.”

“You are many things,” Isidore said to him firmly, “but you are no coward.” He smiled at her, thanking her with his eyes.

“When I first found out about this, when I was 26, I was so pissed off at my mother. I hated her. It took me a while to forgive her. But my father had always treated me so well, had always been there for me. I knew that if I exposed this, it would ruin his life, and he was the big dupe in this. He didn't deserve it.”

“But he raised you, thinking you were his son when you weren't?” Brian said, more of a question.

“What makes a son?” JP asked. “Biology? I have three children, only one of whom is my natural child, but I have never considered them as anything but my children. Hopefully I have not treated them any differently.”

“No, the only thing was letting her bully us,” Brad said, gesturing to Claire. It was a good comic relief moment. She gave him a pretend dirty look.

“I resolved to be a good son, the best son I could be to him. I didn't always succeed. He wasn't too happy with me when I told him I was gay. But other than that, I think I did OK,” JP said. He sighed, and looked down the table at everyone. “I guess the time to explain this would have been when Grand died, or perhaps when Grandmaman died,” he said, using their terms for his parents. “I guess by then I had so internalized the lie it was like a truth. I was an accomplice in the whole thing, part of it. A co-conspirator.”

“Would you have ever told us?” Ace demanded. It was really incomprehensible that he would be so upset about this, more upset than Brad and Claire.

“When I was dead, you would have found out.” I looked at Brad and knew that wasn't entirely true. It would have been up to Brad to decide whether to tell them or not. But that was splitting hairs.

“You were worried that we would hate you for this?” Claire asked him. He just nodded, sadly.

“Especially you. You grew up like I did, thinking you're a Crampton, embracing that heritage. I'm pulling a rug out from under you,” JP said.

“No, you're not. I didn't identify as a Crampton,” Claire said. “I identified, correction, I identify as your daughter. So unless you have another letter in your safe that says I'm not your daughter, I honestly don't care.”

“You don't care?” Ace asked.

“Hasn't he been a good father to you?” Jack asked, pissed off. That was rare, very rare, for him to get upset. “What the fuck do you care? Jesus, Ace. I can't believe you're being such an asshole.”

Ace looked around at the others, looking for support, agreement, and found nothing. He sighed. “You're right, Jack.” He turned to JP. “I'm sorry, Dad. You've been the best, I couldn't ask for a better father. I'm just surprised, grappling with this. But I got it now. It's cool.”

“You're all lucky,” Frank said. We stared at him in surprise, because if it was rare for Jack to get upset, it was even rarer for Frank to say much of anything at all. “Try growing up in a house with so many brothers you had to share beds with them. Where when you walked in the door you didn't know if there was going to be a fist flying at your head, or a cigarette ground into your skin. And then looking to your brothers for support, only to find they had learned how to do the same shit from your asshole father. Try watching your father beat the shit, the absolute shit out of your mother, and not being able to do anything about it. Blood pouring down her face from a broken nose, her arm in a cast when he broke her arm, her ankle in a splint from when he tossed her down the stairs. Try that. Then you come cry to me about how sad your lives are, how bad you have it.”

We all just stared at him, speechless. Isidore put her arm around him and smiled at him.

“Thanks for putting things into perspective Frank. We are very lucky,” Brad said.

There was a long pause, to let everyone collect their thoughts, which became uncomfortable. “So Brian, I hear I need to take you shopping tomorrow,” Claire said, thankfully changing the subject.

“That would be nice,” he said shyly.

“Excellent. Stef, Brian has tomorrow off. He's with me,” Claire said.

“Yes ma'am,” I teased.

“You're kind of scrawny,” Ace said, teasing him. “You work out?”

“Yep,” Brian said.

“Cool. I could use a workout bud.” And that was how dinner ended.

October 4, 1995

“You are ready for dinner?” I asked. “It should be less exciting tonight.”

“We should have gone out,” JP said.

“Nonsense. What more could you ask for? Your children, all of them, just told you how much they love you. Everyone at that table does. Even Jack, but he still will not sleep with you,” I joked.

“I don't want to sleep with Jack. I want to sleep with you,” he said.

“After dinner,” I said.

“Since when are you willing to wait until after dinner?” he demanded.

“Since I want to see how Brian looks after Claire transformed him,” I told him.

“She didn't transform him. She just took him shopping,” he objected.

“You are so naïve,” I told him. “I will be disappointed if she did not. He has so much more potential than Casey did, and that was a lot of fun.” I loved doing makeovers.

“Let's go,” he said with a sigh.

“Do not worry,” I cooed. “I will take care of you later.”

“I never worry about that,” he said. We walked together, arm in arm, to the dining room. Isidore and Frank were there, along with Ace and Cass. Brad had already gone back to Malibu.

“I am wondering if we are planning a calm dinner tonight?” Isidore teased.

“One can only hope,” JP said. The huge grandfather clock in the hall started to strike and JP looked at me, pissed off. Dinner at Escorial was at 7:00. JP liked order in his life, and got very irritated when people were late.

“Apparently Brian and Claire are not back yet,” I said. “Let us go ahead without them.”

“As long as they don't come in late and expect to eat,” JP groused.

“You do not have to be so grumpy. He has been here all of one day now. You allow no time for him to adapt?” I chided him.

“Let's just eat,” JP said, frustrated.

“That was nice of you to share last night Frank,” I said. He just grunted. We started eating then. I was disappointed that Brian hadn't made it back yet, but I put that aside and just enjoyed Maria's cooking.

We heard footsteps in the hallway and turned to look and there was Brian, with Claire standing next to him. Only he didn't look like Brian at all. He looked hot as hell.

“Wow, Brian, you look great,” Ace said.

“You do,” I agreed.

“I remember when you used to look that good JP,” Isidore teased. JP rolled his eyes. Brian walked into the room shyly, clearly uncomfortable being in the spotlight. He had nice khakis on, ones that fit and showed off his slim body and cute little ass. And what a cute little ass he had. Even Ace raised an eyebrow when I made him turn around. He was wearing a long sleeve, polo oxford, with the sleeves rolled up. He had wiry muscles, almost scrawny, but it made him seem spry and sexy.

All that was nice, but it was his face, or his hair, where Claire had effected the biggest transformation. His hair before had bordered on being a mullet, and that would never do. Instead, it was cut short on the sides and long on top, not quite like Casey's, not a total skater cut, but an older, more mature version of it.

“You have achieved a miraculous transformation,” I said to Claire as I stood up and walked around Brian. “I salute you,” I said, bowing.

She laughed, and curtsied. “It was easy to paint such a great piece of art. I had a wonderful canvas to work with.”

Brian blushed. “Thank you. I had a great time spending the day with you Claire.”

“And I had a good time with you, Uncle Brian,” she teased. He melted. She had him completely wrapped around her finger. Hilarious. She turned to JP. “He is late and it is my fault, so you have to feed him anyway,” she said assertively.

“I will give him a pass this time,” JP said, and kissed her cheek as he hugged her.

“I have to get home. See you later,” she said to the room in general as she left.

“I really am sorry I'm late. Claire said that dinner is at 7:00 sharp, and that you hate it when people are late,” Brian said to JP.

“He needs to be more flexible anyway,” I said. “Have a seat. Eat.”

“You've never complained about me not being ‘flexible’ before,” JP said to me playfully. I just stared at him and then laughed. Maybe he really was loosening up a bit.

October 16, 1995

“I think you will enjoy Malibu,” I told Brian.

“As long as it's not DC,” he said. “There's that Million Man March thing going on today.”

“And what exactly is this Million Man March?” I asked. I'd immersed myself in family and work, and hadn't paid too much attention to what was happening in the world.

“It's a mass demonstration. The Capital will be in gridlock,” he said.

“A million men, now that sounds like my kind of demonstration,” I joked.

“A million black men,” Brian said.

“You do not like black men?” I asked.

“I dated a black guy,” he said, irritated. “I just don't think I want to be a pasty-faced, blond-headed white guy in the middle of a black demonstration.”

“I can see that point,” I said. “So you dated a black guy? How was that?” I asked.

“He was an asshole. Not because he was black, but because he was an asshole. He had all these moves, and I thought they were great until he used them on everyone else too,” Brian said dismissively. “You ever date a black guy?”

“Date is not the term I would use. Fuck would be a better term, and the answer is ‘yes’. There is that stereotype about black men being hung. I think I found the only one that was not,” I said, remembering my youth in Paris, and a fling or two since then.

“My guy was. Hung and a total top. That took some getting used to,” Brian said with a smile, then got embarrassed and turned back to his paper.

“This march is actually pretty cool,” Brian said, reading the paper. “It's about self-help, and self-defense.”

“Well we are not going to DC, so you are safe from predatory gay black males,” I teased.

“Damn. That's too bad. I need to get laid.”

“No one is stopping you. You should have no problem. You are gorgeous,” I said. He rolled his eyes at me. He hadn't figured out how to flirt. “You must learn how to flirt, to let men know you are available.”

“Ya think?” he asked. “I'm too shy to flirt.”

“You do not flaunt your wares, no one will buy,” I said.

“You make me sound like a K-Mart,” he said.

“No, with your makeover you're at least a Macy's. Maybe Neiman Marcus, but I'm not sure,” I teased. I felt the plane touchdown and smiled. I missed LA. The limo picked us up and whisked us up to Malibu. It was noon now, so there was no traffic. “Have you ever been down here?”

“Nope. Just the Bay Area, and not too much of that,” he said.

“You will like it. I am trying to talk JP into coming down for the Halloween parties, but he is being difficult,” I said.

“Will there be movie stars there?” he asked.

“Of course,” I said. “Whom do you want to meet?”

“Keanu Reeves,” he said. “I want to have his babies.”

“Rumor has it that David Geffen gave him his start in exchange for sexual favors, but he prefers women. Still, you may have a chance,” I joked. The limo pulled up in front of my house and I hopped out with Brian following.

“Nice place Stef,” he said.

“It is. Come on in.” No one was home, so I gave him a quick tour and then we went next door to look for Brad. He was in the kitchen, watching the Million Man March.

“Hey Brian!” Brad said, and got up to give him a warm hug.

“And I am chopped liver?” I joked. He gave me a hug too.

“No, but you're not as cute as Brian. Damn. What happened to you?” Brad said, taking in Brian's new look.

“Claire,” he said.

“Say no more,” Brad joked. “She dressed me all the way through high school. Ace was the only one brave enough to rebel, but then he'd have some big date or something, and he'd go groveling to her, begging for her help.”

“So now that OJ is over you have found another news story about black men to occupy your time?” I teased.

“Once you've had black, you never go back,” Brad teased.

“You sound like Johnny Cochran,” I joked back.

I heard footsteps and turned to see Robbie. “What are you doing home?” I asked.

“I come home for lunch when I can,” he said. “Usually not to eat though.” He leered at Brad.

“This is Brian,” I said, introducing them. “Brian, this is Robbie.”

“So you're JP's doppelganger,” Robbie said. “It's nice to meet you. You here for long?”

“Just until tomorrow,” Brian said, taking in Robbie. He was such a handsome guy; it was hard to blame him for ogling.

“He wants to meet Keanu Reeves,” I said.

“I said I wanted to have his babies,” Brian corrected.

“So how have things been around here without me?” I asked.

“Pretty quiet actually. Alejandro and Casey pretty much go to school, eat and fuck,” Robbie said, cracking us up. “Cody's around but he's really absorbed in his work. He seems to really like it.”

“No men for him?” I asked.

“I haven't seen any, but we aren't spying on him. Ask Alejandro, he'd know. He worships the ground Cody walks on,” Brad observed.

“Who is Cody?” Brian asked.

“He is a friend of mine, a very good friend,” I said. “He's an agent here in town.”

“Right. He and Stef were tight before JP,” Brad said. “And he's hot as hell. If it weren’t for Robbie, I'd be his bitch.”

“Yeah, but remember I'm around,” Robbie said. “He's really good at what he does.”

“As a lover?” Brian asked.

Robbie cracked up. “No, as an agent. He's really doing well. He seems to know just how to deal with his clients.”

“He is also good as a lover,” I said. “Very good. Very very good.”

“OK Stef, we get it,” Robbie joked. There was a little hint of frustration in that. Of all the people in the room, he would probably be the one who would most enjoy sleeping with Cody.

I quickly got back to Cody's career. “I have talked to Jackie and she says the same thing. For the first time since I've known her, she's actually talking about taking a vacation.”

“What's so special about that?” Brad asked.

“You'd have to know Jackie. She's a workaholic, a control freak, and she craves power. She cannot stand to be away from the action,” I said. Kind of like Greg, I thought, and that made me sad. I wondered if there would come a time when I would think of him and not be sad.

“You're thinking of Greg,” Brad said, irritating me.

“I am not!” They all stared at me, and I sighed. “It is hard not to when the talk of control freaks and people craving power comes up.”

“Who is Greg?” Brian asked.

“Greg was my partner, before JP. He died earlier this year,” I said. “Come on,” I said, holding out my hand, “I will tell you about him.”