I've Always Loved You - 23. West Coast Bound

Authors Note: I am now fully awake and pissed off again. Bear with me. I mourned; you know that. Losing Daniel was the worst thing to happen in my life. We weren’t perfect and had arguments. He hated it when I would psychoanalyze him. I did. I admit it. I was stubborn and he was stubborn. When he would even hint that maybe we shouldn’t have married, I said, “No!! Don’t say that! I am as mad as Hell at you, but I love you. You said you love me. Has that changed?”

I miss Daniel, but I can’t cling to him as I have. I let him go. I love him every bit as much as I did in the beginning. Shortly after he wouldn’t slide over in the church pew? (Really) I just disconnected from everything.

Music has always been important to me. I let my mind go with songs and I see what I write in my head! I really do. The song done by No Doubt, “Hella Good,” I saw the scene in the Grotto in the Makarovian series and watched the “No Touch Dance.” I saw it, I heard it…I was there!

I put music on I use to set the mood to write. I played The Corrs “Leave me Breathless” and Ray Boltz’s “Don’t Tell Me Who To Love.” I started crying!! Why? I had missed so much!! I’m still angry with my parents, even knowing why they did it. No drinking, no cussing and no dancing!! I will tell you. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU!! I watched this video “What is Love?” Haddaway, Km Music dance video…those young ladies and the guy had some damned great footwork!! I was jealous! I was happy, joyous and makes you want to dance, too. Why couldn’t I?

Gay Pride. I’m not proud to be gay. I wasn’t awarded it by doing something wonderful. I just am! I’m also not ashamed of being gay. Ask me about it, I will answer honestly. I want every straight, homophobic, hyper religious zealot to go fuck themselves! Oh, was there magic in that word? Don't be ridiculous! Nothing’s changed. You are not God, a judge and you are not the executioner. You think you are. You are still so damned wrong!! WE ARE PEOPLE!!! Leave us alone!! Yeah, my anger is back. Dance if you want to! Find love and don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed!

I was here! I was queer and I am NOT ashamed of it!!

West Coast Bound

The next morning you would swear it was magic. New York City knew how to put things up and take things down very quickly. Samantha Stevens (Bewitched?) lived in a suburb near New York City. Maybe she and her mother Endora (you had to love her) probably twitched and “poof” the mess was gone. Last night’s mess was almost gone! Replaced with the normal urban mess of daily life in Time Square.

They got things out of the street first and they were clearing the sidewalks last. There also all that confetti that had fallen like snow at midnight. I think it’s just a constant, such as with disposing your live Christmas Tree. You will find needles even six months later. Only God knew how much it all the confetti weighed. A lot of it had weight, loose they flittered down. No one can blame confetti for any death or injury due to impact of a few confetti.

We couldn’t convince Chet to stay in bed a little longer, but he didn’t stay up as long the five adults had. Then there was another constant in life. The only difference was the volume.

“I’m hungry!” Chet whispered in Mike’s ear. That was a constant.

Mike pulled the pillow he lay on to cover his head and moaned, “We just fed you. You had spaghetti and meatballs.”

Humor is never too tired. “That was last night! I’m hungry now!” Chet pleaded shaking his father.

Despite the hour and lack of sleep, I rolled over, “I’d say your job as a father is secure.” I shrugged. “Or at least until he learns to cook.”

“We just got to bed!” Mike moaned. “I’m still tired and you performed up until a few hours ago.”

“I’ll survive,” I chuckled. “We don’t check out until tomorrow. If needed, we can nap.”

Mike sat up, “Fine.” He looked at Chet, “We need to reset your clock for West Coast time. I could use those extra hours.”

Chet grinned, “We studied the rotation of the Earth in school! How the rotation that makes zones of time. It’s noon somewhere in the world all the time! Lunch or supper all the time, too!” He watched as his father went to the bathroom. “Did you know that?”

“Coffee,” Mike said.

“That means you went to bed hours later, too!” Chet stated, “You don’t get those hours back.”

It was funny! “He’s got you there, Mike.”

Mike grunted and came to the bed, took my hand, “I go,” he reasoned, “You go.” He drug me from the bed.

The hotel was busy. A lot of people were checking out that morning. That was why Mark had the hotel suite until the second. With all best laid plans, there were always something that would go wrong. They should kill whoever that Murphy was that had that law. Murphy’s Law? Room Service would take up to an hour. The restaurant was packed. Mike opened a drawer where he had a couple of those coffee pods tucked away. Addicts had hidden stashes all over and Mike was an addict. He brewed a cup and we walked to McDonald’s across the street.

We returned to see Mark on the phone. “…and we need more coffee pods.” He nodded to whomever was talking, but they couldn’t see him do that. “Thank you.” He hung up and smiled at us. “I gather you three have had breakfast?”

Mike pulled Chet up next to him, “It was terrible!” Mike said dramatically. “There he was, wasting away before our very eyes! It was an emergency.”

“Dad,” Chet used the long, warbling form of the word that made the one syllable very long.

Mark chuckled, “I bet he was.” He waved at the table he had his laptop sitting on. “The reviews are coming in and Dick Clark’s Rocking Eve was a huge success.” He pointed at me. “You were a success! Your audience was in the millions.”

Tom and Heather had somewhere to go, but promised we’d see each other in a week.

Yes, many were trying to checkout before Noon. That added a lot of foot traffic in the lobby. Some did checkout as soon as the Rockin’ Eve ended to avoid this and head to where they needed to be next. New Year’s Day, the first day of the year, could only go so far. The reality was that the holiday was New Year’s Eve. Many people used New Year’s Day to recover from New Year’s Eve. Many, many hangovers.

Mike’s pants buzzed causing him to yelp. He dug in his pocket and pulled his phone that was vibrating again. His smile tightened, but it was still there. “It’s your grandmother,” he told Chet as he handed his phone to his son.

Chet blew a tired breath and took the phone; resolved to what he needed to do, “Hi, Grandma.”

As misguided or crazy as Manny and Wynona were, they did love Chet. I did envy them. Really. I didn’t lie well. I couldn’t lie to myself long. They held beliefs that just weren’t logical. Action and reaction were natural laws, but they believed it one hundred percent. So, they said. I couldn’t. Do I have another explanation? Not always. Manny, Wynona and Chet would never have the relationship they did once. It was doubtful relationship would ever recover. Chet’s innocence was stolen…by his grandparents! The fact that they didn’t understand or accept responsibility only dug the hole they were in deeper. But they acted like they were absolutely right…about everything! Manfred had earned a G.E.D while in the military. He had cut grass and mowed grass as soon as he was able to and just expounded on that to include trees. Wynona was a hairdresser. It was a stereotype! He was a hardened military man that did not have the education, but a strong sense of duty. She was a military dependent all her life! A Navy brat, a navy man’s wife the May before graduating in June. (She would have shown more if they waited.) That marriage lasted two years, the second marriage last five years.) Manfred and Wynona passed twenty-five!! Picture the heavyset middle-aged woman chewing and snapping gum and gossiping with whomever was in her chair. Yes, I did look down on them. I wasn’t better than anyone, but… Mike had a terrible childhood, but rose above it. The Atkins did not even try. A near brush with death caused Manfred to fall on his knees about promised to live right! Gone were the affairs, excessive drinking and spousal abuse for both Wynona and Manfred! Wynona gave Manfred a few black eyes. It was quite a family. They were wrong, but quite a family. I don’t really know about Manfred’s children or Wynona’s sons, but the ones I met were working hard to have it stop with their generation. They belonged to many support groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous to helping Veterans and Active Duty deal with Post Traumatic Stress. They could have been the example to follow; the poster about overcoming the odds. But they were not. Lack of education was one thing. Ignorance is cured with education. They were stupid. They heard the facts and turned their backs on, never once even considering they could be in error.

I tried not to eavesdrop on Chet’s conversation with his grandmother.

“Is his hair darker?” Mike asked me out of the blue.

Cocking my head…as if that change of perspective would help, I squinted as I looked at Chet’s lazy curls on the top of his head. When it comes to being observant, guys have a harder time noticing. If attracts our attention and suggests to us that something has changed. It probably did change. “Maybe it won’t be so…” I thought for just a second and said, “orange!”

Mike chuckled, “Who would have thought Wynona’s genes would be so dominate!?”

Chet’s side of the conversation was short and mostly one-word replies. “Because I don’t want to!” He said lowering the phone and ended the call. He handed Mike the phone back and offered no explanation.

Mike stopped Chet from going anywhere and gave his son a message, silently with his expression that said I shouldn’t need to ask.

Chet sighed and shook his head, “She invited me to spend a long weekend with them. I arrive on a Friday and leave on a Monday,” He shrugged. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh,” Mike nodded, “This is revenge.”

“Revenge!?” Chet repeated with his eyes widening.

Mike nodded, “Yes.” He pulled Chet with him and they sat on the couch. Mike grimaced in my direction, “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he looked at Chet. “What they did. They hurt you and now…” he tapped Chet on the chest, “Now you are hurting them.”

I understood what Mike was explaining about, “You did it just now.” I shrugged, “Personally, I only care a little bit. She is your grandmother. A part of her is standing right here.” I patted Chet’s chest and then went to his head of hair. “I really see it here!” I sat back a bit. “Where did your grandmother get it?”

Chet grinned, “She said, her father passed it down to her.”

“Okay,” I grinned and nodded. “They love you. That I know…”

“They lied!” Chet shouted.

“Yes,” I nodded. “They did.”

“Why?” Mike asked and answered his question. “Because they were scared.”

“Of you and PopE!?” Chet asked in complete disbelief.

Mike shook his head, “No, they are not afraid of us, but afraid for you!!”

“We might change you,” Mike said.

“Why!?” Chet asked as his eyes widened. “How will you change me?”

Mike smiled a bit tightly, “Well…” He looked at me for help.

I sat by Mike, “The world is dangerous. It’s beautiful, but also deadly.” I touched Mike’s arm. “Your Dad has a job to prepare you for what’s out there. There are adult things you will do that has them concerned.”

“Things like sex,” Chet nodded.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Our society is obsessed with it,” Mike shrugged. “We have songs about it, make movies about it.” He shook his head. “To sell anything…clothes, perfume, cologne, cars…they attract the customer with a scantily clad woman or man so we can so we can attract people.”

“And that’s fine,” I hurried on. “It’s who we are. It’s what people do.”

“Basically, there are two camps,” Mike said. “There is Camp Morality and Camp Immorality. Your grandparents think PopE and I are in are in Camp Immorality…” Mike looked me and frowned at my expression.

“Camp Immorality? Really?” I reached, touching his face and kissed him. Right after that, I frowned and used my hand to shove Mike away.

Mike swatted me away, “The next crisis he has, you come up with something an eight-year-old will understand.” Mike grinned at me, “Do you still love me?”

“No,” I shot back. I shrugged, “Ask stupid questions, you get stupid answers.”

Mike chuckled, but looked at Chet, “I hate what your grandparents did to us, but I have no doubt they love you. They were so worried about you, there was nothing they would not do including breaking laws. They knew it was a crime, but they cared more about you than any punishment they would get. That includes murder.”

Chet’s mind was going over what we’d said. You could see it on his face as the eyebrows came closer to each other and his face took on this scowl. “Okay,” he said at last. “I just don’t like them right now.”

I nodded, “That makes sense.”

“PopE’s right,” Mike smiled. “Try this. The next invitation you get…tell them that. Tell the truth. You were hurt by all they did from the lie about your mother visiting with Jesus, your Grandpa shooting me…everything. If they invite you again, have PopE, Eli or I listen in…”

Chet grinned, “Yeah! Uncle Avi and Uncle Eli will be with us then!”

“Yes!” Mike nodded. “If you do go to your grandparents, they will be going with you!”

“Otherwise,” I cautioned. “They might try to persuade you. That’s what Eli Bau is for. We need to show them we are no more immoral or moral than they are.”

“We fought so hard to be seen as Human!” Mike urged Chet to understand. “PopE and your Grandpa Ray wrote and sang a powerful song about it, which your PopE is putting Grandpa Ray’s song in this upcoming movie.”

“Human culture evolves,” I said. “It goes in cycles. In ancient history we were accepted in the Greek and Italian cultures. Thousands of years ago, we were accepted. We are trying to get them to see we aren’t possessed or evil.”

Mike nodded, “I told you, you decide. If you want to go, let us know. If you don’t, we won’t make you.”

“Tell your Grandma why,” I shook my finger. “Why you don’t like them now. All of it.” Then, I jumped as my pocket buzzed and shook. “Oops! My turn.” I looked at my phone and grinned. “That man has a knack for knowing I was talking about him.” I looked at Chet, “It’s your Grandpa Ray.” Chet’s face lit up hoping he could talk to Ray. I opened the line, “How do you do it?”

The chuckle came first, “How do I do what? Telephones are easy to use. I pick the phone up, look for the number seven and speed dial or say call Eric. The phone hits the numbers you gave me, and you answer.” Ray said happily.

My eyes rolled my eyes, “I mean we were just talking about you…not even a minute ago! You did it when I wanted to talk to you at home!”

“Weeeeell,” Ray said in the lengthy way people did when they didn’t want to admit something. I even heard him scratch his face near his mouth, “I dunno, that time I called you I did have a feeling you needed to talk to me. This time, I knew you did the Rockin’ Eve last night…great suit, by the way…I gave you a few hours to sleep in, but knew you need to check out…this time just seemed logical.”

“I’m glad you liked the suit,” I smiled, “I’m getting a lot of positive remarks about that tux. What did you think about the performance?”

“Some performers and groups performed music I don’t care for, but…”

I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face. “Me, Dad!” I said, “What did you think about my performance?” Yep, he was my father by heart, but the smart aleck comments and evasions were funny and worthy of me! Maybe I did get it from him. I’d watched him all my life. Remember? He was my inspiration!

“Oh,” Ray said innocently, “that.” Then his voice became serious, “You did yourself proud. I’m proud of you. Frank’s proud of you.”

That is something every child wants to hear. Their parent is proud of them. “Thank you.”

“What you are doing…” Ray said, “is so important.” His voice broke. “For all of us.”

“I know,” I nodded, but he couldn’t see it.

“Do you?” Ray asked questioning if I really knew. “We were hidden from the world in back alleys the shadows of cities. We were vermin. Stonewall made us declare that we are here and queer and get used to it. We slowly began again to emerge, and the HIV and AIDS epidemic slammed the door back on the closet door. You and I…really you…and some celebrities like you stated you were gay practically from the beginning!”

“You were a prominent performing artist that came from a very straight Contemporary Christian world and admitted you are gay,” I argued. “That was quite a blow for our side.”

“Yes,” Ray admitted. “Being a Gay Christian is a tough for people to understand and accept, but my songs question the validity of their conclusions. Your songs explain the lack of choice about who you are.” Ray was getting a little excited as he spoke. “From night shadows on streets, stepping into the light, having their doors open for us, to being invited in…you are making them comfortable having us in their house. Soon, we will just be a part of the house!”

“We’ll never be universally accepted,” I said.

“Of course, not! No one is,” Ray agreed. “Middle eastern cultures won’t unless we fully convert, racism runs rampant…Dad would look at mixed race couple and question why. I would tell him; they saw something in each other they wanted in their lives. It was love. We’ll be commonplace!!”

Once you’ve been shocked there were only a few choices. Get rid of us by force. That never worked no matter what the kind of force used by beating, arresting, drugging, psychologically conditioned or executing us. Yes, we were bizarre creatures that needed exterminating. To save the world! There were only a few of us, right? That depends on who did they survey. No one can put an exact number on it, but all of them agree that twenty million people say they are gay or bisexual in the United States of America alone. Twenty million!! Transgender? Crossdressers? Hell, there were websites dedicated to straight men performing same-sex acts for money!! Are they gay? Or just don’t care. Gay for pay? It’s sex. My opinion was that Kinsey Scale had very few that were absolutely gay or absolutely straight. The rest of us were in the middle. Mike was closer to the center than I was. He could perform with women. (He got Chet?) I didn’t believe I could. I was closer to the gay end. I’m hesitant to give a label to anyone now. There were those that were extremists in wild costumes and outfits designed to shock. No one was telling them you can’t love who you love! Be the person they saw themselves as. Hell, no!! A lot is in defiance!! Who is anyone to say something was a sin!? There were good people and bad people. That was just Human. Being gay or straight wasn’t the problem. I knew many gay and bisexual people who were good people! Honest, moral and a strong sense of ethics. I knew some gay and bisexuals are just plain nuts! They are people!! People!! The Human Psyche is so complicated, so “one size fits all” diagnosis won’t fit everyone. Nature and nurture added things to our personalities. What we are naturally hardwired for and cultural restrictions in religions and beliefs influence behaviors.

“We’re adding voices to our cause,” Ray explained. “All those people going into stores, going online are buying what you’ve done and bringing you into their home; they know you’re gay, but love you!” He chuckled, “Disney’s helping.”

I chuckled, “Yes, they are. They employ a lot of us in their creative departments.”

“They showed the live action movie for Beauty and the Beast the other night,” Ray said happily. “It was practically written out! LeFou was in love with Gaston!”

A reminder: Handsome, viral Gaston was determined to get Belle away from the Beast and win her over. Gaston’s male traveling companion, LeFou was so obvious! He was in love the Gaston. The actor that played Gaston was known to play for both teams! Why do people need to know about it? If they want a date, ask him!! I’d be worried if he abstained from sex altogether. That isn’t normal. I’m glad he found someone to share time with. Who cares about the gender!? I say: “Good for him!”

“The opposing voices are losing their volume,” Ray said.

I looked down at Chet who was trying to behave himself, but the look was begging me to let him speak Grandpa Ray, “Can I put Chet on?”

“Please, do!” Ray said happily. “Keep up the good fight, son.”

“I will,” I handed my phone to Chet who burst on the line speaking fast.

There wasn’t a lot to do, except stay out of the way of the many people at the hotel, both guests and employees. We took Chet to Rockefeller Center. The idea here was to tire him out! We took him skating again.

I really didn’t notice much difference between the day before and the day we checked out. Many had the same idea. I had done shows on the West Coast, but always managed to avoid LAX. Mark always got me routed to the Hollywood Burbank Airport, or the Bob Hope Airport it was called now. It was much smaller and less traffic than LAX, both air and highway.

I fallen victim to the pressures and now wore sunglasses and a ball cap pulled down over my face. Mike wore the same thing and Chet…well…he was eight! He wasn’t as readily identified yet. I say yet. As he matured, he would begin to take on more of his father’s characteristics and break hearts. Tweens! No longer children and not yet teenagers, but they were a force to deal with.

I also noticed Chet had gotten over the spell air travel used to enchant him with. Really, he became sort of bored with the whole thing.

I’d also flown to Chicago and always to Midway Airport, not O’Hare. This time we went to Teterboro Airport in New Jersey, to Gary/Chicago and then on to Bob Hope’s Airport! Mark made all the arrangements, but it was much easier.

“Isn’t it time for dinner?” As we exited the plane, Chet asked with when a tone that said he was hardly making it. He was too weak having gone without food.”

Mike frowned, “It’s still early afternoon!”

“What!?” Chet balked in surprise.

“The sun sets in the…?” Mike grinned as he asked.

“In the West,” Chet nodded understanding as he spoke, “which is the direction we flew…” he shook his head. “The day got a couple of hours more added to it.”

Mike stopped grinning grandly at Chet, “That’s right!! Very good!!” He looked at me. “He’s a genius. He worked that out all by himself!!”

I chuckled putting my arm around Chet’s shoulder, “I hope you weren’t counting on an argument from me. I agree with you!”

“…because we landed twenty minutes ago!” Mark said testily into the microphone attached to his face. His phone at his waist was untouched, but he had been conversing with whomever since he was allowed to after landing. “Where?” He looked around the crowd in the area where people greeted getting off the plane. He spotted someone and said, “Oh, I see her.”

I looked as we walked in a direction, “Are you still on the phone?”

Mark looked at me oddly, “What?” Then he snickered. “Oh, no.”

“From my perspective,” I grinned. “You suddenly start speaking to the vacant air…” I pointed at him, “People could question your sanity.”

Mark chuckled, “They do all the time! I tell, lock me up! I am crazy!”

We only had those rolling carry-ons. Everything else was sent ahead, except my snazzy red tux.

“They had a quake,” Mark reported. “There was some damage to the house they were giving you to use. They had to move your things to a new house.”

“How bad was the quake?” I asked.

“A six,” Mark said with a shrug.

“That’s pretty strong.”

“Only twenty seconds. A wall collapsed at the house they were giving you.”

A thin woman in a black suit smiled at us. She was drop dead gorgeous!! Supermodel-like appearance, slender, tall and blonde from what I saw underneath her cap. I don’t have to tell you again of my feelings for blondes. She put her hand out. “Hello,” she greeted she smiled showing her perfect, white teeth. “I am Inga Ketonen.”

Someone was laughing their ass off. They send a supermodel to pick us up!? Okay, Mark was bisexual, Mike was enough to get Sherry pregnant with Chet, Chet was a child. And me. I know all of us would have enjoyed a charming Southern California Hunk would have been enjoyed better. Maybe that was why. No distractions. She wasn’t real! A young twenty-two year that looked “sculpted." Perfect skin, teeth. She had a slight accent when speaking English.

“I am being made to ask,” I said to her. “Where are you from?”

She chuckled, “Kirkkonummi, Finland.”

My head shook as I got no clue, “Where?”

She laughed harder, “West of Helsinki, you would know it if you played golf.”

Mark nodded, “That explains why I don’t know where that is. Golf is boring and stupid.”

I looked at Mark, “That is not true. You’re like me; too impatient. The same with fishing.”

“You don’t fish,” Chet said.

“And now you know why!” I added. “Watching grass grow, paint drying and fishing.”

“Oh,” Chet nodded understanding.

We rode farther than the first house, but up some winding roads up and down hills that rose in the Los Angeles area. These mountains were very old and in time, would sink back into the sea. That would be a million years from now, unless we stop it. The Earth evolves, too. Burbank was north of Los Angeles in a valley between Glendale and Verdugo mountains. We were in the Santa Monica Hills. North of Santa Monica and where the studio was that was filming the movie. The famous “Hollywood” sign was to the east, but on the same range.

I would have missed the driveway. This low, white wall edged the property, seeming to keep the hill and growth of trees and bush at bay. Then the cars turned and went down a steep decline and leveled off. It would take a few times before I was comfortable with that. I could do it, but carefully. The house was built on a slope! There was a wide enough level area for cars to load and unload. You couldn’t see the street from down here, nor could but everyone knows the style, the rounded rock shingles, stucco walls.

“Nothing here seems to be damaged,” Mark smiled.

“It usually doesn’t up here,” Inga said. “It needs to be over seven to feel it here.”

The arrangement of the house also made it look like it was holding the hillside back and up. It wasn’t a vacant house! Fully furnished with even with the little knickknacks about on mantels, on tables and counters. Lots of brown. Decorative stone tiles on the floors, hard wood in the dinning area, over head was the dark brown wood held up by beams of wood. They took a level house and lowered it on a hillside, the main entrance above and they kept the rooms level but lowered each section down the hill. A person in a wheelchair would have problems, but…

“No one lives here now?” Mike asked.

“Not in two months,” Inga answered. “Why?”

“I smell cookies baking,” Mike growled lightly.

“It’s a ploy,” I said to Mike and went to the oven. There were two. Opening them I took and gloved hot pad and removed something. “Put in on low heat and this baby makes your house smell like you’re baking cookies!”

“It’s a welcome home!” Mark stated.

Mike nodded, “If they really wanted to welcome us, they’d leave real cookies.”

There were courtyards, a pool/fountain and surrounded by gardens and flowers. I liked it.

A man came in the room, “We got the stuff from the other house here.” He looked at me. “We tried to keep everything from the same room together, but where will it go here?” He smiled bigger, “Loved the Rockin’ Eve show you did.”

“Thank you,” I nodded, “I try my best!”