Blur (Changing Colors Book 2) (51 page)

“And when I was twenty, she opened her arms and saved me again. I had fallen into an ugly pattern of numbing myself with drugs and alcohol and having sex with any woman that was willing. Unfortunately, I did this on purpose. I tried to live the life someone else wanted me to live. Someone I desperately wanted to make proud. So, instead of coming out, I tried to act like I wasn’t gay.

“I abused drugs and alcohol to numb myself to the point of not remembering.

Most days and nights were a blur to me. A revolving door of snorting coke and drinking enough whiskey to tranquilize an elephant. That revolving door included unprotected sex with women I did not know. This caught up with me. It caught up with me in the worst kind of way.

“After my best friend found me at rock bottom, and encouraged me to get help both physically and emotionally, I went to a clinic and got tested for every sexually transmitted disease known to man. Three days later, I got a phone call. I tested positive for HIV.

“There’s a stigma pointed at individuals who have HIV. A stigma about not being smart. A stigma that it only happens within the gay community. Well, I stand here before you as the exception to these stigmas. I am a gay man who contracted HIV by having unprotected sex with a woman. I knew what I was doing. The lack of protection was not because I was dumb or forgetful. It was because I hated myself so much that I didn’t care to protect myself. I already wanted to die, so what did it matter if I drank or snorted enough mind-numbing substances to kill myself? What did it matter if I wore a condom or not?

“When you don’t love yourself, you don’t take steps to protect yourself, no matter what aspects of life we’re talking about. Drugs. Alcohol. Unprotected Sex. Not wearing your seatbelt. Engaging in reckless activities. These things are inconsequential in the eyes of someone whose will to live is nonexistent.

“I’ve been going through HIV treatments for the past five years, and I’m one of the fortunate ones who’s found a cocktail of medications that has placed my counts so low, I’m almost in what some would call remission. If not for the work that amfAR does, the treatments that are saving my life wouldn’t be available.

“If not for the community, love, friendship, and support that the Human Rights Campaign provides for all LGBT individuals, I would not have found the strength and confidence to stand in front of you all tonight and speak my truth.

“I’ve been in survival mode for as long as I can remember. I’ve been living a life that isn’t mine. And over the past decade, I’ve been using my best friend as my closet, my secret hiding place. Luckily, she loved me enough to understand. She loved me enough to do anything in her power to protect me. She gave up her freedom to openly love someone else because of the demons I was battling. Brooke has known since that tragic day she found me nonresponsive after swallowing a bottle of pills that I’m gay. She probably even knew it before then. She knew it, and she still loved me.

“Brooke was there when I got the phone call that I tested positive for HIV. She knew that I was HIV positive and still she loved me, still stood by me. She was my secret warrior, always trying to fight my demons. But I’m done letting her silently fight my battles.

“And I’m done battling those demons. I’m done hiding. I’m done lying. I’m ready to start a new chapter in my life, where I’m happy with myself, happy with who I am as a person. Not just parts of myself, but
all of myself.

“As most of you know, I was supposed to be at a dinner tonight for a political candidate. Although last minute, I have declined the invitation. While the candidate is a nice man, I cannot support his political agenda when he has such blatant disregard for individuals like myself.

“I am part of a community now, and I’m more than ready to stand up for my brothers and sisters within this community. I’m ready to be the pillar of strength for once in my life. I’m ready to openly speak my truth.”

The second he finishes his speech, the room erupts into a standing ovation. Proud, inspired faces shine back at Jamie. My beaming expression reveals my agreeance. He’s finally doing what he should have done years ago. He’s accepting himself for who he is. And he’s never looked better. Never stood taller. Never smiled wider.

He is finally where he should be.

We’re back at Jamie’s house, watching clips of the press conference hit every news station. There are a lot of shocked reactions, but mostly, the response has been this outpouring of support. His phone has been ringing off the hook. Everyone wants an interview with him. His story is demanding to be heard.

“Are you okay?” I ask, taking in his serene expression.

“I’ve never been better, baby girl.”

Jamie and I are sitting on his couch, shoulder to shoulder, hands entwined. We’re still in our formal wear, still trying to wrap our minds around everything that just happened.

My best friend just told the world that not only is he gay, but he also has HIV. He just revealed his deepest, darkest secrets to everyone.

I couldn’t be more proud of him than I am right now.

“What do you think your dad is going to do?”

“Who knows? I’m prepared for his wrath. And honestly, I’m not the least bit concerned about it. I’m done being under his thumb. I’m done worrying about what he thinks.”

“I have something to tell you.”

He turns his head, giving me his full attention.

“I opened Millie’s letter.”

“You did?
Wow, Brooke, that’s huge. I’m so proud of you. I’m so happy that you finally did it.”

“Do you want to know what the letter said?”

“Of course I do, but I’m not going to pry. It’s your letter. And I understand if it’s something you want to keep to yourself.”

“God, Jamie. Millie’s letter brought me so much closure, I don’t even know where to begin. I feel like a coward for not reading it the second I got it. Can I read it to you? I might have brought it with me…” A wry smile crests my lips.

He laughs. “Are you kidding me? Go get it!”

I grab the letter from my purse. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, I unfold it in my lap. “Before I read this, you need to promise that you won’t get mad, okay?”

He nods. “I promise.”

My Dearest Lilah Belle,

I’d like to congratulate you for finally reading this letter. I have a feeling you waited a while, refusing to read it out of fear of it being my last words to you. A part of me can relate to that fear, but the other part of me is shouting, “Stop being a stubborn pain in the ass and read it already!” I’m just hoping you found the strength to read this a few days, okay, even a few months after getting it. But I might have to leave my cozy spot in heaven and come haunt you if I find out you waited five years before opening it.

I hope Paris was magical. I hope it gave you something special, something wonderful to hold onto, even while you’re back home in LA. I hope it changed the way you look at the world. I hope it changed the way you look at love. I’ve, of course, taken it upon myself to arrange another trip to Paris at the time of your choice. The flight and hotel arrangements are on standby. Ember has all of the information, because she will be accompanying you on your second Paris trip.

You know I love my great-grandson more than life itself, but he is not allowed to attend. I’m putting you in charge of making sure Teddy stays in LA. One day, he will get his turn to experience Paris, but that is few years off. I’ve already set aside funds for him to take a year off after high school and travel the world. I just pray he’ll eventually make his way back to the States, or Ember might attempt to resurrect me from the grave just to smack me.

And when you have a gorgeous baby of your own, I’ve made arrangements for my future great-grandchild to do the same.

I hate that you’re probably missing my physical presence. Just remember that although I’m not there, standing beside you, I’ll always be there in spirit. Always. I don’t want you to mourn my loss anymore, Lilah Belle. I want you to celebrate the times we shared and know that you and Ember made me the luckiest woman alive. I got to live life twice. Once through my own eyes, and the second time through your eyes.

And you taught me so much. You taught me what it means to really love. You taught me what it means to really open your heart and care about someone, no matter the circumstance. You, my beautiful granddaughter, are the very best gift I’ve ever been given.

When you’re ready, I want you to go to William and let him finally read my will to you. Some of my investments and savings went to charities, but a lot of it has been saved for you and Ember. I’d like to think it’s enough money for you and Jamie to start your own label. I know that’s secretly been your dream from the start. And I’m so excited for what the two of you will create together.

William has already promised me that he will only give you a year before he tracks you down. So don’t try to flake out on him. He might be old, but he’s still full of piss and vinegar when he wants to be.

And there are two more things. Both are out in the shed behind yours and Ember’s old clothes. One is a guitar case engraved with “Lilah Belle”, and the other is a box labeled “Millie’s Mary Jane.” No, it’s not weed, which I’m sure you’ve already gotten into my old stash with Ember…don’t deny it. (If you haven’t, it’s in the kitchen pantry. You’re welcome.)

When I was in Paris, I was very diligent about keeping journals of my time and travels. I’m sure your trip to the City of Lights spurred a lot of questions revolving around me, especially related to Christophe. I’m sure Alexandre told you a little, but he was sworn to silence to withhold most of it.

I wanted you to find your answers by experiencing my time in Paris, and my time with Christophe, through my journals.

They will let you see what really happened with Christophe and me. While our time together was short, it was still some of the best times of my life. He was the love of my life. And I was lucky enough to be with Christophe when he passed away. I was there at his bedside, holding his hand as he took his last breath. And although it was one of the most devastating moments I’ve ever experienced, I will always treasure it. He took his last breath with me there, while I whispered, “I love you” over and over in his ear.

Now, the other thing, the guitar case. This is something that’s taken all of my strength not to give you before I took my last breath, but somehow, I managed to do it.

Inside that guitar case is a very special vintage, acoustic guitar.

It has a beautiful inscription from an artist by the name of Joni Mitchell.

You might know her…

Anyway, I managed to obtain a 1956 Martin D-28 acoustic guitar. And as you know, this was Joni Mitchell’s first as well as her favorite guitar. She used it on all of her early albums. I’m hoping this guitar will inspire you to write and record an album of your own. You have the talent, and now you have the guitar. I think the only thing that’s left is you understanding that you are good enough.

Because you are, Lilah Belle. The world deserves to hear your beautiful voice.

Now, go do big things! And that’s an order!

Vous avez fait ma vie. (You made my life)

Je t'aime. (I love you)

Millie

“Brooke, that is amazing.” Jamie’s eyes search mine. “Are you okay?”

I nod, folding the letter up and slipping it back in the envelope.

“Did you already find the guitar and journals in the shed?” His voice is too calm. Not at all what I was expecting.

“Wait, you’re not mad at me?”

He tilts his head, confused. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Uh…” I wave the envelope around. “Because if I wouldn’t have been such a coward from the start we would—”

“Stop.” Jamie cuts me off before I can continue. “Brooke, I don’t regret one second of any of this. I don’t regret what I did today. Honestly, I’ve never felt more comfortable in my own skin than I do right now. I’m afraid that if you
had
read that letter, I’d still be hiding from myself. I’d still be denying my truth.”

His words leave me speechless.

“So, now that we’ve got that settled…” he pauses, grinning, “back to the important stuff, like what Joni Mitchell engraved on your guitar.”

A laugh escapes me. “She wrote ‘Paint the world with your voice. And always keep a good heart.’”

“That sounds dead-on Joni Mitchell.”

I grin. “I know—”

Before I can say anything else, there’s a loud pounding at the door, followed by relentless ringing of the doorbell.

My eyes go wide, knowing exactly who this will be.

It doesn’t intimidate Jamie. He merely gets to his feet and strides towards the door. “Just stay in here, Brooke. This isn’t your concern, okay?”

“But—”

“Stay in here,” he demands. “I’m serious. You don’t need to be mixed up in this. ”

I offer a curt nod, still unsure if me staying back is the right decision. Alistair isn’t a man I’d want to go head to head with on my own.

Jamie stops at the doorway, turning to face me. “And Brooke?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know, that this was my plan before you read Millie’s letter, okay? I had already planned on doing this before that. That money, it’s yours, not mine, and I honestly don’t think it should go towards our label.”

“Wait, what?”

He holds his hand up. “We’ll talk about it later. Just stay here. I’ll be back in a few.” And then he’s gone.

The door opens, and I immediately turn down the volume to the television. If I can’t be in the same room when this goes down, you can bet your ass I’m going to eavesdrop on their conversation. Alistair Wallace has never been known for being a calm kind of guy. And if he’s been drinking, his violent outbursts tend to rear their ugly heads.

“What the fuck?” Alistair’s voice booms from the foyer. The door slams shut. “You’re going to explain yourself, and then you’re going to fix this fucking circus you’ve created.”

“I’m not ‘fixing’ anything. This is something I should have done a long time ago.” Jamie sounds calm, steadfast in his words.

“You will fix this, you little fucking faggot. You will
not
disgrace our family name.”