A Lethal Legacy (11 page)

I also had a feeling
that Philip would behave himself around Elizabeth since she was a no-nonsense
kind of girl. She wasn't a flirt and wouldn't tolerate any touching or hugging
from him, and Philip probably knew it. I never heard him belittle Gary in front
of Elizabeth. He must have sensed that this woman would stand up to him.

At dinner the
following Friday, even Kelsey, who had laughed when she heard about Gary's new
girlfriend, found herself attracted to Elizabeth's easy-going style. She put
Kelsey at ease immediately by asking about Domino's and Tom Monahan. Kelsey
wasted no time regaling her with stories about the growing company.

In September of 1973,
Gary went to Atlantic City with Elizabeth's parents for pageant week. He wasn't
allowed to be alone with Elizabeth, according to the Miss America guidelines,
but he was invited to all of the events and watched her win Miss Congeniality
and Best Overall Talent with her tap dance version of "If My Friends Could
See Me Now."

Gary called his
parents the night before the pageant telling them that the scuttlebutt around
the pageant put Elizabeth at the top of the list for winning the whole thing.
He said he didn't want to jinx anything, but everyone was very hopeful and
excited.

Kelsey and I watched
the pageant with Mom and Dad at Claire and Philip's house trying to catch a
glimpse of Gary in the audience without success.

"Look at her,
Claire. She's going to win; no one else can touch her now," Philip said
during the talent competition. "She can't miss."

"That's the
prettiest girl in the world, that's for sure," Claire said as she raised
her glass of wine for a refill.

Even my father,
usually quiet and disdainful of Philip's boasting, couldn't help but enter into
the celebration.

"Gary got
himself a real little beauty there, didn't he?" Stanley said. "Almost
as beautiful as our own sweet Kelsey here."

"Thanks, Dad."
Kelsey reached over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I think I'll leave
the beauty pageanting to Elizabeth though. I'll stick to selling pizzas."
Kelsey picked up a piece of pizza with pepperoni and put her head back. She
stuffed a huge bite in her mouth in a very unqueen-like motion.

We rooted and cheered
for Elizabeth all through the show, and when the audience stood on their feet
after her performance, we knew she had the title. We hooted and booed when the
other contestants came on the screen.

"Miss Kentucky
might as well pack her bags and get on the train right now," Claire
shouted when she appeared on stage with her batons.

"And the new
Miss America for 1974 is Miss Michigan, Elizabeth Jackson." Bert Parks
crowned her, and she began the walk unsteadily down the long runway. We missed
most of it because we were jumping up and hugging one another as if we had won
it ourselves. Philip opened the chilled bottles of champagne, and as we drank
toast after toast, we had no idea what lay in store for the newly crowned Miss
America.

In actuality, Gary
didn't see much of her during the next year. However, he would fly to meet her
in different cities, and occasionally she would come home. Those visits left
them little time alone because everyone in her hometown of Kalamazoo, and even
the whole state of Michigan, claimed her time. I often wondered if Elizabeth
ever suspected that something might be missing in their relationship. I began
to assume that because of her schedule, she might not notice anything amiss in
Gary's behavior. They had so little time alone, that intimacies were probably
rare if nonexistent.

I also figured that
Gary had curtailed his other life during this time. He was a favorite of the
media, too. In all the articles about Elizabeth, his name always slipped in as,
"fiancé, Gary Townsend, an advertising executive from Dearborn,
Michigan."

At one party in
Kalamazoo, Elizabeth almost fainted during a receiving line. Elizabeth invited
Kelsey and me to this event. I watched as Gary ran to her side when she began
to swoon. The people on either side of her, including her mother, didn't even
notice as they continued to shake hands and receive congratulatory words. Gary
led her outside into the fresh air.

The next day when I
asked Elizabeth about it, she said, "You know, Gary was the only one there
who even noticed that I went down. He's so sensitive and attentive. I feel
terrible that we have to put everything on hold for this year because, Ed, I
really love him."

Gary never told me
the same about her, and I wondered how long Gary's lack of affection for her in
public and private would go undetected. I noticed that Elizabeth reached for
his hand and touched him quite often, but Gary would soon disengage or pull
away. She would tenderly reach over and stop his nervous habit with his
fingers. Sometimes he would place his hand lightly on the small of her back to
lead her through a crowd, but that was the extent of his physicality toward her.

Gary loved to dress
nicely in silk imported suits and Italian shoes. He began to talk about clothes
and cars and stereos and boats incessantly, unless I could steer him to a less
superficial subject. This obsession became pronounced during this time in Gary's
life. I often wondered if he felt safer on these topics especially with me who
knew the truth of his pain.

However, the material
aspects of my life rarely concerned me. Not that my life was perfect as a
result. I probably lost Allison, my first wife, because of my lack of concern
about my clothes and cars and houses. Gary would try to encourage me to care
more about my clothes, especially whenever I appeared in public with Elizabeth
and him. He remained constantly aware that a photographer might be near to
shoot a picture or two. It mattered a great deal to Gary that everyone looked
perfect in every photo. He would stand, hands behind his back with his head
tilted to one side, with his slightly crooked smile lighting up every
photograph. I never saw a bad photo in the newspapers, and I never saw one that
wasn't posed very carefully.

I knew Gary loved the
limelight radiating from Elizabeth. Therefore, even though I was concerned, I
wasn't really surprised when he called to tell me that he and Elizabeth would
be married on Valentine's Day of 1975. Elizabeth would have four months from
the end of her reign until the wedding in order to make plans for what would
most likely be a certain media event.

Like Gary, Philip and
Claire both thrived on the outward trappings of a successful life. When Gary
disappointed his parents in the past, he always found some way to make up for
it. This time, he did it in a big way. His marriage to the former Miss America,
Elizabeth Jackson, became the ultimate redemption to make up for the loss of
Kristina.

I left St. George
Island reluctantly the next day. The rolling hills of horse country greeted me
as I approached Ocala. I breathed a sigh of contentment to see the bright
winter sun shine through the Spanish moss hanging from the nearly bare trees.
Already I could see thunderheads forming ahead of me as I drove to my
destination. I decided to go directly to Claire and Philip's house upon my
return. As I pulled into their driveway, the thunder clapped overhead and a
limb from a live oak tree in the driveway broke away from its host and
deposited itself in front of my car, missing my front bumper by a couple of
feet.

He wandered the
streets endlessly searching for anything that might help him understand the
numbness that enveloped him. The rain beat down creating puddles at his feet.
He stepped carefully around them hoping to keep his feet dry and warm on a
night that provided neither dryness nor warmth.

"Ed, what are
you doing out in this weather?" Claire said when she opened the door in
the garage to let me in. "I thought you were at the beach," she said
as I came into the kitchen.

"Ed, I was just
going to have a beer. Want one?" Philip asked, as he stood with the
refrigerator door open.

"Sure, Philip,
that'd be great," I said as I hugged Claire.

"Can't sit on
the porch, now can we," Claire said as she motioned me toward the living
room.

"How come you
came back early? I thought Marge said you'd be gone all this week. Was it the
Gulf or Atlantic this time?" Claire asked.

"Neither,
although I did stop at St. George on the way home," I said.

"Your mother is
getting more and more forgetful, Ed." This remark came from Philip.

"On the way home
from where?" Claire asked.

"Mom got it
right this time, Philip. I mean, that's what I told her. I was in New Orleans. Gary
called last week and asked me to visit him. And he asked me to come home and
tell you something."

"You went to New
Orleans? To see Gary?" Claire seemed surprised but not upset. "Did
you see Kristina, too?"

"Yes, I saw them
both. Claire, Philip." They both looked at me expectantly. "Gary's
sick, very sick."

Silence met my words,
except for the storm raging outside the sliding glass doors. The rain began
slashing against the windows.

"Sick?"
Claire echoed my words after a moment.

"He wants me to
bring the both of you back to New Orleans. We need to leave first thing in the
morning."

"What is it?
Cancer?" Philip asked.

"AIDs," I
said without emotion.

"AIDs? That's
that gay disease. It's killing all those homosexuals. Is that it, Ed? Is that
the one?" Claire's voice rose several octaves as she sat forward on her
chair.

"There's no
cure, if that's what you mean. Claire, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this,
but Gary doesn't have very much longer." I said this as gently as I could.

"God damn
it!" The outburst came from Philip. The storm moved inside. "He's a
queer, isn't he? I always knew it. A pansy, Claire, that's what you raised.
Couldn't even satisfy his wives, queer all along." Philip finished his
beer in one gulp.

"Shut up,
Philip, just shut up." I stood up and went over to his chair with tears
streaming down my face. "Don't you do this to Claire or to Gary. I swear
I'll kill you if you don't shut up."

Years of frustration
with this man, who had nearly destroyed Gary's life and now in his death wanted
to strip him of his last shred of dignity, came bubbling forth from deep inside
me. Philip rose from his chair, and we faced each other nearly nose to nose.

"Stop, both of
you," Claire said. "Ed, sit down, you too, Philip, and shut up. Now
our son is dying, nothing else matters. Ed, when do we leave tomorrow?"

"I'd like to
leave as early in the morning as possible, Claire," I managed once I sat
back down. "I need to go over to the apartment and check on Mom and Aunt
Susan. I have to tell them, too. Then I need a good night's rest, and so do the
both of you." I looked over at Philip who sat with his head in his hands.
"I'll come by around five to pick you up. That should get us to Gary's by five
or six in the evening. OK?"

"Should I call
him?" Claire asked in a wounded little voice.

"It might be
better to let him get his strength back. His roommate told me that the doctor
started some new meds yesterday, and he seemed to even want something to eat
last night."

"His roommate."
Philip made a snorting sound.

"I mean it,
Philip, if you say one more word," I turned toward my uncle.

"Philip, that's
it, I'm warning you, too. One more word, and I walk out that door
forever," Claire said.

When I left, I was
still angry with Philip. I realized I blamed Philip for Gary's situation, for
the fact that Gary had AIDs and lay dying while Philip sat in his easy chair
drinking beer with his white shoes and striped blue seersucker pants. He
disgusted me.

I didn't blame Philip
for Gary's homosexuality. I believed that kind of thing is already predestined
at birth or earlier. No, I blamed Philip for giving Gary the sense that he was
inadequate, the sense that Gary was always lacking in some way. It was that
sense of failure, of never measuring up, that left Gary searching and wanting
and seeking out lovers at any opportunity. Gary never shared the details, but
he told me enough for me to know that most of his adult life he led a
promiscuous gay life. Only in the last year or so with Rick had he settled down
to one partner. It was those multiple partners that caused his mortality to be
reached long before its time. And for all of those reasons I raged at Philip in
my mind as I drove to my mother's apartment.

Gary went so far as
to marry Miss America in an attempt to win his father's approval. Probably for
the few moments of his lifetime while he was in the limelight with Elizabeth,
he earned his father's superficial acceptance, but at what cost and for what
reasons? I thought back to that time when Gary made the ultimate sacrifice for
his parents as he entered into his second marriage.

"The Wedding of
the Year" many of the papers announced. Elizabeth's parents certainly
spared no expense. The wedding itself was held in the First United Methodist
Church in downtown Kalamazoo with the reception at the country club east of
town.

Most of the week
prior to February 14 consisted of party after party. The wedding attendants,
all fourteen of us, were invited to almost all of them. Of course, in my role
of best man once again, my presence was particularly necessary. I had to take
the week off work, not an easy task for a teacher, but the principal at PHS
didn't seem to mind since it was for such a famous Michigan girl's wedding. He
seemed honored in some way that I worked for him. Fame brings out strange and
surprising reactions in some people. I would have been happier to be left out
of the whole thing. I couldn't help thinking that Gary once again managed to
put himself right in the middle of a vast ocean of trouble. And because of the
notoriety of this marriage, he was treading in shark-infested waters.

I continued to write.
I began looking for a publisher for
Looking over His Shoulder
, my first
novel. I thought several times about approaching Elizabeth since it was
possible that she might know someone who could help me. But I hesitated. Would
she see through the disguised main character? I hadn't even discussed the
subject of the book with Gary. What would he think? Would he be proud or
ashamed or just angry?

So I began a new
book. This time I focused on the price we pay for maintaining youth and beauty
using Elizabeth and Gary as my models. I also watched Claire and Philip
carefully. They were attracted to the lights of the media like moths. They
seemed to float into nearly every picture taken that week. Aunt Claire had
bought a whole new wardrobe, and Uncle Philip kept telling everyone about his
wonderful son. At least I didn't need to worry about Elizabeth with Philip. He
wouldn't dare make a pass at someone like her, and after catching him with Pam,
he knew I was now watching.

Elizabeth and I
established a friendly relationship, but because of the attention always
focused on her, we rarely had moments to talk. She and Gary came to Ann Arbor
over Christmas, and the four of us spent some time together at our place. One
night they stayed over, but with Gary sleeping on the couch and Elizabeth in
our small study/spare bedroom. They made it clear they wanted separate sleeping
quarters.

"We're waiting
until the wedding night," Elizabeth said as the color rose in her cheeks.
Kelsey seemed touched by the sentiment; I wasn't.

At one of the
cocktail parties before the wedding, Elizabeth and I did have an opportunity to
talk. We sat in a darkened corner with fresh drinks and took a moment away from
the frenzy surrounding us.

"Do you ever get
tired of it all, Elizabeth?" I asked.

"Sometimes, but
I figure it comes with the territory, and it won't always be like this, you
know. I've got maybe another fifteen years of looking this good so I might as
well make the most of it," she said. The remark coming from her seemed
honest rather than conceited.

"That's a fairly
realistic way to assess it, I suppose. You know, I've never told you how glad I
am that you and Gary are together. You'll be good for him."

"He's a good
man. I've never understood what happened with his first marriage, though. He
won't talk about it." She looked at me with a question in her eyes.

"No, Gary
probably won't talk about it. When he's hurt the most, he clams up. It just
didn't work out. He and Pam were very different people."

"Yes, I suppose
they were. Claire and Philip have told me more about her and the child than
Gary. I hope we can have Kristina come and stay with us once we're
settled."

"Stay with
you?" She nodded. "Elizabeth, no one knows where to find Pam and
Kristina," I said.

"No one has ever
tried to find them either, have they? I want to surprise Gary, so that's one of
the first things I'm going to do after we're married."

"Find
Kristina?" I asked.

"Yes, I really
want to do something. I know it would mean so much to Gary."

"Elizabeth, I
don't think that's such a great idea. It was a very bitter divorce. I think you
should leave it alone." Pam would enjoy telling Elizabeth some stories, I
thought.

"But that's his
daughter. She needs her father," she said.

"My advice,
given as someone who cares deeply for everyone involved, is to leave it alone.
Please," I said.

"Honestly,
sometimes I just do not understand you Townsends." She paused before
continuing. "But I do trust you, Ed. Are you really sure?"

"I'm sure. You
wouldn't be doing anyone any good. Someday, I hope, Kristina will want to find
her family, or maybe Pam will be less bitter, but for right now, they need to
be left alone. As much as he loves that little girl, he doesn't want Pam back
in his life."

"I'll let it go
for now, but none of it makes any sense. Just look at Gary over there. Doesn't
he look gorgeous in that color of blue? Sometimes I can't believe how handsome
he is. Thanks, Ed, for everything." She leaned over and gave me an air
kiss, a very practiced kiss, done carefully so she wouldn't smear her lipstick.
And then she was off into the crowd shaking hands making everyone feel as if
she thought they were the most important person in the room. I really believed
she thought they were, for those few moments.

I found my new novel
easier to write, partly because of Elizabeth. She looked and acted the part of
a sweet angel with one tragic flaw. She loved my cousin with all of her heart.
And he loved no one, not even himself.

Finally, the big day
arrived. The church, decorated in red roses and baby's breath, glowed beneath
the flickering multitudes of candles as Gary and I walked out of the minister's
chamber to the altar to await the show about to begin. First, the bridesmaids,
escorted by the groomsmen, made their way down the long aisle. The red velvet
dresses next to the black tuxedos created a startling contrast. As I stood next
to Gary, waiting for the maid of honor and then the bride, the deep pink roses
in the attendants' bouquets floated down the aisle toward us.

Then the moment the
crowd had been anxiously anticipating arrived. The chords struck on the organ,
and the former Miss America appeared on the arm of her father. Dressed in an all
white, simple gown with long sleeves, Elizabeth floated toward her groom. A
small crown of pearls held the veil that cascaded down her back. Her red rose
bouquet looked like blood against the pure white of the dress. I watched her
triumphantly march down the long aisle to the side of my cousin. I turned to
see Gary's reaction to the vision of loveliness approaching him, and he looked
a little green around the edges as he reached a finger inside the collar of his
shirt. Then in a very practiced pose, he put his hands behind his back and
waited expectantly. But he smiled when she drew near to him, and went through
all of the appropriate rituals associated with a wedding of this magnitude.

The reception seemed
more like a grand ball than a celebration for a wedding. I had heard that six
hundred people were invited and because of who had just been married, I think
all of those invited showed up. Except for the picture-taking moments, I never
got close enough to Gary or Elizabeth to offer my congratulations privately.
This time my congratulations to Gary and his bride were spoken into a
microphone and blasted out through the loud speakers. I don't even remember
what I said. When all of the proper things were done, Kelsey and I snuck out to
drive the hundred miles back to Ann Arbor that night. We were beat and wanted
to sleep in our own beds for the first time that week.

The next morning
while we sat at the kitchen table reading the papers that contained stories and
pictures about the wedding, the phone rang.