Smoky Mountain Dreams (56 page)

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me.”

“It wasn’t. Okay, it was mostly you, but not all.”
Christopher smiled softly.

Smiling back, Jesse reached up and stroked a hand over
Christopher’s hair. “You need a nap. Have you slept?”

Christopher shook his head and let Jesse guide him down onto
the bed, their denim-covered legs twining together, and Christopher’s head on
Jesse’s shoulder. They lay there in silence, the overenthusiastic hotel room
heater rattling to life and spewing warmth into the cool room.

“Just got to get through the funeral,” Christopher murmured.
“And then I can go home.”

“When is it?”

“Monday. I know you can’t stay. That’s three days from now,
and you have the kids.”

“I can stay. Nova and Tim are taking the kids for the
weekend. I want to be here for you. What are your plans?”

“Now that things are settled, I guess I don’t have any. I
was going to, I don’t know…wait. Or something. What do you do, Jesse? I haven’t
really done this before.”

Jesse ran his fingers through Christopher’s hair. “You fill
the time. You try to be there for your other family members if you can.”

“Mom and I are done. This doesn’t change that. Jackie might
need me, but probably not. She and Gran weren’t as close.”

“Then maybe you need to let Jackie be there for you.”

Christopher shrugged. She’d never been there for him until
just very recently. How to explain that he couldn’t exactly trust that it would
last, though Joe’s influence was likely to last as long as their marriage, and
it seemed solid. He closed his eyes, blocking out the ugly hotel room curtains,
and the waning sunshine that crept through them. “Can you get the lights? I
want to nap now.”

“Whatever you need.” Jesse kissed his ear and slid out of
bed. “I promise,” he said, after he’d turned off the lights, tightened the
curtains, and curled up behind Christopher. “Anything for you.”

C
HRISTOPHER
STOPPED IN HIS TRACKS
as they made their way into the chapel for the
funeral. “Uh-oh,” he murmured.

“What?” Jesse asked.

“My dad and his new—and wow, very young and, I guess,
beautiful—girlfriend.” He glanced at his mother. Christopher had somehow
imagined in that should his father show Sammie Mae would pitch such a fit that
the service would be delayed and possibly even canceled. But she was already
seated in the front row and his father was near the rear. He bet she hadn’t
seen him yet, or if she had, she’d decided to take the high road.

Christopher thought Gran might’ve actually been a little
disappointed if she’d been there to witness how civilly everyone was behaving.

Of course the looks he and Jesse garnered when they walked
in together were pretty spectacular, really. Heads did double-takes, whispers
whipped through the pews, and Bob turned a terrifying shade of apoplectic red.
But, shockingly, no actual drama was made, and though both Bob and Sammie Mae
didn’t acknowledge Christopher’s existence, neither did they refuse him and
Jesse places in the family pews near the front of the chapel.

Chaplain Peters gave a nice, amusing talk about Gran and her
contributions to the nursing home’s environment, and expressed that her roommate
Edna missed her desperately. Christopher didn’t know why that was the comment
that turned on his waterworks, but he went stiff and still in his seat,
fighting the tears, as Jesse gripped his hand and squeezed.

Aunt Laurie Ann had been a bit cold to Christopher that
weekend, which wasn’t her usual way at all. He’d have written it off to grief,
except that he could tell by the way Jackie kept glancing nervously between
Aunt Laurie Ann and Christopher that the news of his homosexuality had finally
made it out amongst the extended family. It hurt, but not as much as the fact
that his Gran was in the box at the front of the chapel and he’d never, ever,
ever get to talk to her again. Never hold her hand. Never laugh at her
nonsense. Never be scolded by her ever again.

Don’t count me out, boy. I’ll scold you
until your dying day.

Christopher pressed a hand to his mouth to keep back a sob,
turning his head away from the sight of Lee, Joe, and three other strong men
lifting the casket. He hadn’t been asked to carry it, and he was glad. He knew
he’d have wept in front of everyone if he’d tried. Jesse squeezed his hand.

Then it was over and all that was left was to walk out of
the chapel and get into Jesse’s car. Christopher knew he should talk to his
father, but he didn’t have it in him. There wasn’t going to be a graveside
service, and his duties were done. He could visit her grave again later when
she was resting in it, and he supposed he would probably do just that. Say his
real goodbye in private. Sing “In The Garden” for her all by himself. But now
he needed to escape with Jesse and get away from everyone, and everything.
Maybe cry, or maybe just find some way to laugh, because he wasn’t going to
keep on being so very grim.

Gran wouldn’t have liked it.

Jesse whispered, “That wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined based
on what you’ve told me about your family,” as they stepped through the door and
out into the snapping cold of the December afternoon.

“Christopher! Wait!”

It was Jackie.

Jesse said, “You don’t have to stay and talk. You don’t have
to do anything.”

“It’s okay.”

Jackie hurried across the parking lot toward them, her heels
clicking on the pavement, and her black, swinging dress blowing in the wind.
Christopher could see the goose flesh on her arms and Joe trailing behind with
her coat and his three kids.

“Hey, Jackie, sorry,” Christopher said as she grabbed hold
of him in a hug. “I just gotta get out of here.” He gazed over shoulder at
where Sammie Mae and Bob were lingering on the church steps, shaking people’s
hands and looking suitably grieved. Christopher knew that for his mother at
least it wasn’t an act.

“I just…oh, Christopher,” Jackie sighed and hugged him tightly
again. She pulled away and took his face in her cold hands, her eyes examining
him closely. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be all right.”

Jackie swallowed hard. “You know what Mama said about you
not being welcome—”

“Don’t, Jackie.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me what she said. You’re welcome
in my home always. Do you understand me?”

Christopher looked down at his feet and then met her eyes. “Am
I?”

“Of course you are. And your…what is it called? Partner?
Boyfriend? He’s welcome too.” She cast a shy glance toward Jesse. “You know,
you haven’t properly introduced us yet.”

Joe drew up beside their huddle by Jesse’s car, and Jackie
let go of Christopher’s face to put on the coat he held out for her.

“Joe, Jackie, this is my…boyfriend?” He caught Jesse’s smile
and felt a bit stronger as he went on. “This is my boyfriend Jesse.” He turned
to Jesse. “This is my sister, Jackie, and her husband, Joe. And you’ve heard
about my nephews, Lee and Aaron, and my niece, Sara Beth.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jesse said, taking Jackie’s
hand first. “I wish it was under better circumstances. I’m so sorry about your
gran.”

Jackie smiled a little tightly, but Christopher could tell
she was genuinely trying.

“Good to meet you, dude,” Joe said, shaking Jesse’s hand and
then putting his arm around Christopher. “Our Christopher deserves the best.”

Sara Beth looked up at Jesse a little dubiously but she
shook his hand, and Lee did the same. Aaron just said, “Jackie says there’ll be
cake at Grandma Sammie’s house.”

Jackie said, “Come back to Mama’s with us. I’m sure she didn’t
mean it. Not under these circumstances, anyway.”

“No, Jackie.” Christopher shook his head. “I can’t go back
there. I’ll never go there again. I’m done.”

Jackie sighed. “Come on, Christopher. You can’t be serious
about not coming to Christmas at least.”

“She told me not to come back until I wasn’t gay anymore.”
He motioned at Jesse. “I’m still gay. So I’m not welcome. And I wouldn’t go
even if I was.”

“But Uncle Christopher, if you don’t come then Grampa Bob
will pick on Lee,” Sara Beth said.

“Not this year, he won’t,” Joe told her. “He won’t be
picking on anybody this year.”

Jackie stuck to her guns, though. “She’s grieving. She’s out
of her head. Listen, Gran’s dead and Mom needs us—needs
you
—there.
If not today, then at Christmas at least.”

“How does she need me? Jackie, you know damn well what she
said! She told me not to come back.”

Joe nodded his head at Lee, who rolled his eyes and then
rounded his brother and sister up.

“C’mon, let’s go see if we can look in the hearse for Gran’s
coffin before it drives away. Wanna see if we can see inside it?” The kids
hurried after him like that sounded a good idea and Joe grumbled only a little
under his breath.

Jackie stayed on topic. “She was being an idiot. She was
scared and angry. But now Gran’s gone, and she needs her babies around her now
more than ever.”

“She’s got Bob. And Jackie? Let’s get real, I’m not her
baby. I’m her mess-up. Her scapegoat.”

“No.”

“Yes. Listen, I want to come home and hug her and tell her
it’s gonna be okay. I really do, okay? But she let him abuse me for years and—”

“He never laid a hand on you!”

“C’mon, Jackie. You’re a nurse. You’re smarter than that.
You know it doesn’t have to leave bruises to be abuse. If someone at the
hospital was talking to their kid the way you heard Bob talk to me for years,
you’d be obligated to report it or you wouldn’t be doing your job.”

Jackie looked down at her feet and opened her mouth, but
Christopher didn’t get to hear what it was she was going to say.

“Here you are! Both of my oldest children in the same place!
Sweetheart, come here. I found Christopher and Jackie.” Their father’s voice
boomed across the parking lot.

Christopher felt a hot rush of panic, and he turned to Jesse
with a frantic feeling in his chest, wondering if they could just get in the
car and leave. But they were hemmed in by Joe, Jackie, and other exiting
vehicles.

Jackie turned from Christopher in almost slow motion, an
expression of wide-eyed disgust on her face.

“Christopher?” Jesse asked, his hand on Christopher’s elbow.
“You okay?”

“Fuck,” Jackie muttered.

That summed it up so well but even so, Christopher was
impressed at Jackie for saying it. He’d never heard her use the word before. “It’s
my dad,” Christopher murmured to Jesse.

Before Christopher could say more, he was swallowed up in
big arms and the scent of Brut cologne. There was a moment of release, and then
Jackie was smooshed up against his side, and his dad was holding onto them
both.

“Kids, I’m so sorry about Violet. She loved you both so
much. She was a very good woman.”

“Let me go,” Jackie gritted out.

“Oh, baby, I’m not squeezing too tight!”

Christopher shoved at his father and earned their release.
His father looked the same as the last time Christopher had laid eyes on him
two years prior: blond without any gray that Christopher could see, wrinkles
held at bay through fat injections, still solidly built and close to six feet
tall, though instead of “business casual,” today he was dressed in a dark navy
suit. His father’s brown eyes twinkled happily as he took in Jackie and
Christopher, his joy in seeing them bringing up a strong memory in Christopher
of the first time he’d met his half-sibling, Memphis Jay. She’d been barely two
and his father had showed up at SMD with her in tow, along with the child’s
mother—young, African-American, and someone Christopher had never seen again.

His father’s eyes had twinkled just the same way when he’d
given Memphis Jay a taste of ice cream and she’d crowed with joy. Christopher
wondered how often his father saw Memphis Jay now. She was, after all, just
another problem when it was time to move on to the next woman. He hoped his dad
at least paid child support.

Christopher was just getting his breath back, still feeling
overwhelmed and dizzy with grief and shock, only to have the young, blond woman
his father was dating throw her arms around him, too. Her bell-like voice rang
next to his ear.

“Christopher! Your father has told me all about you. I’m
Kristin. I’m going to be your new stepmother.”

“
Excuse
me?” Jackie almost
shrieked.

Kristin pulled away enough to include Jackie in the address,
but she didn’t let go. “Or a friend. At least a friend, right?”

She was small and stupidly young, but Christopher felt
helpless as her arms squeezed him. He looked toward Jesse, who was standing
with his keys in hand, eyes wide, and an expression of confused horror on his
face. The small blonde girl—
Kristin
—was dressed in a
long-sleeved black dress, her bosom slight enough that the top didn’t fit very
well. She was pretty, though, no denying that with a pert nose, symmetrical
face, and shining green eyes. She could do so much better than a man over twice
her age. Christopher wanted to tell her to run far and fast.