Smoky Mountain Dreams (42 page)

“Mama…”

“Go. I don’t want to see you here. When you find a way to
make peace with the Lord and live by his commandments, then you can come back
to my home.” She sobbed. “Until that time you’re not welcome.”

Christopher’s mother turned and walked away. She didn’t look
back.

W
HEN
JESSE OPENED HIS DOOR
to find Christopher on the stoop, pale and on the
verge of tears, he pulled him into his arms and led him inside.

“Worst Thanksgiving ever,” Jesse mumbled against the skin of
Christopher’s neck. The kids had opted to stay with Nova and Tim for the night.
The fact that Christopher apparently needed him right now was the only thing
keeping him from drinking several glasses of bourbon and going to bed early.

“I don’t even know where to start with how bad this day has
been,” Christopher mumbled. “Maybe I should start by saying that the least
awful thing about it is that my dad is apparently looking to reconcile with me,
and, on any other day, that would make me want to look into the benefits of
stabbing my eyes with needles because it would have to rank better.”

“Oh, babe.” Jesse guided him into the living room, where he’d
started a fire, poured wine, and started a list of shit he had to get done to
have a family Christmas in his home. “Sit down. Drink this.”

Christopher sat on the sofa next to Jesse, accepted the wine
glass, and didn’t bother with swirling or pretending to look for legs. He took
a giant gulp and sighed before taking another three gulps and burping. He
covered his mouth and laughed. “Uh, sorry. I had soda on my way up here.”

Jesse chuckled, and it felt good, a moment of levity in a
difficult day. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Christopher put down the wine glass. “I just came from the
hospital.”

Jesse’s stomach clenched, and his raked his eyes over Christopher
as he touched him. “Are you okay?”

“No, yes.” Christopher smiled softly and pressed their lips
together. “It’s not me. It’s my stepfather.” He took a deep breath and told him
the story.

Jesse could hardly believe his ears. Here he had been thinking
no one’s Thanksgiving could be worse than his, but Christopher’s was beyond
awful. He clenched his fists, not sure what to do with how angry he was that
Christopher’s family had hurt him so badly.

“What does your mother see in that man, anyway?”

“I’ve always wondered that myself.”

“Let me guess, Bob moved in when your dad left? Took over
when she was down and out?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. I don’t know the details. At the time, I
was just a self-absorbed and hurt kid, terrified that I was going to burn in hell
for being a fag, and scared to death that I’d made a mistake by confessing to
my mom about my feelings.” Christopher blew air out and blinked rapidly before
clearing his throat. “And I can conclusively state that I did make a mistake in
doing that.”

“What did she say?”

“She told me Pastor Bob could help me with them. And right
before they started dating, or courting as Bob calls it, I was seeing him twice
a week for counseling. Which basically meant he told me all kinds of disgusting
and awful things that would happen to me in hell unless I accepted Jesus in my
heart. I thought I already had! Eventually I just sort of knew he was full of
shit and I’d rather accept any member of NSync into my pants than have anything
to do with his idea of Christ.”

Jesse forced a light tone. “That Justin Timberlake was
awfully pretty.” When Christopher smiled softly, Jesse pressed a kiss to his
cheek and held him tighter. “I’m so sorry you went through that hell growing
up. And that it’s still happening. Is your stepfather going to be all right?”
He didn’t actually know what kind of outcome he hoped for.

“I have no idea. I guess my Gran will let me know when I see
her next week. Or my sister might call.” Christopher looked away, took a sip of
wine, and cleared his throat. “My mom kicked me out.” He frowned. “No, that’s
not right. I don’t live there anymore, so…that’s not what happened.” His voice
broke a little and he cleared his throat again, taking another drink. “I guess
she disowned me. Until I’m a better Christian. Or not gay? Or both. I’m not
even sure what the requirement is to get back in her good graces, but whatever
it is, it’s not going to happen. So I’m not welcome back.”

Jesse set the wine glass on the coffee table, and pulled
Christopher against him. “Oh, Chris. I’m sorry. So sorry.” He didn’t have a
clue how Christopher must be feeling. If he’d felt abandoned by Nova and Tim
wanting to have Ronnie over for Christmas, this must be ten times worse. He
rubbed Christopher’s back, and felt the moment his resistance turned to tears.
Jesse wrapped his arms around him tighter, holding him while Christopher tried
not to cry.

Finally, Christopher pulled away, pressing the heel of his
hands against his eyes and wiping roughly. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a bad
day.”

“It’s okay. We all cry sometimes. I’ve cried a shit ton over
the last five years.”

Christopher’s mouth quirked into a half smile, and then he
slumped forward, elbows on knees, his face buried in his palms. Jesse rubbed
his back, waiting while Christopher got his breathing under control again.

“Chris, is it possible this is a misunderstanding? If your
stepdad’s in the hospital, and it had something to do with you and your Gran,
maybe your mom’s just saying shit she doesn’t mean. It happens. Grief fucks you
up. Makes you mean. Take my word for it.”

Christopher shook his head, not lifting his face from his
hands. “I don’t care if she takes it back tomorrow. She said it. She meant it.
She made her choice a long time ago and it’s always been him. I’ve only stayed
around because of Gran. And Jackie. The way my mother lets him talk to me—about
me. He humiliates me.”

Jesse wrapped his arms around Christopher’s shaking
shoulders and pressed kisses to them, the cotton of Christopher’s shirt soft
against his lips. Jesse moved to kiss the pink of his neck where Christopher
was flushed from wine and emotion.

“So it doesn’t matter, Jesse. Joe told me to get up from the
table and go and…when he said that—”

“Joe?”

“My brother-in-law.”

“He told you to go?”

“To protect me. Well, to protect his kids too, from seeing
what Bob was doing to me. And when he said that, it was like… Holy shit, what
is wrong with me? Why do I just sit here and take it? Why do I work so hard not
to provoke it, and then when it comes, I just fucking sit there and
take it,
Jesse.”

Jesse didn’t have an answer, so he just listened.

“And my Gran. God, you know, I love her so much, but today
she went too far. It was like she was a child without any sense of
consequences. Is that dementia? Or just…what is that, Jesse?”

“I don’t know, Chris. I wish I did.”

“I think she just hates him that much. I hate him too, but I
don’t want him dead.” He sat up and stared ahead at the blank TV screen like he
might see the answers he wanted there. “I don’t think she wants him dead, either.
Not really. No matter how often she jokes about it.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t.”

Christopher’s shoulders relaxed like he’d needed to hear
that. “Yeah. I’m sure too. It was just a prank that went too far.” He frowned. “But
what kind of prank involves using your grandson to start a meltdown at the
Thanksgiving table?”

“A poorly planned one.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

“C’mere,” Jesse said. “Just breathe for a few minutes. Let
me hold you.”

Christopher snuggled into the space between Jesse’s arm and
his body, putting his head on Jesse’s chest. His breath came in and out, long
and deep, and he turned his face to rub it against Jesse’s shirt, like a little
kid wiping off his tear-stained cheeks.

“This is helping. Thank you.”

Jesse bent his head to the sweet line where Christopher’s
hair met his neck. He breathed in his scent and pressed a kiss to his soft
skin. “I’m just glad you’re here. With me.”

Christopher tilted his head up, his eyes still shining with
unshed tears. Jesse rubbed his finger along Christopher’s cheek, feeling barely
there stubble. Christopher’s chin fit perfectly between his fingers, and he
brought him up for a kiss. It began as a simple need to comfort, to press his
lips against Christopher’s wet, downturned mouth, but it quickly turned into
more. Jesse loved the taste of Christopher’s mouth mixed with wine.

Christopher slid up and into his lap, twining both hands
into Jesse’s hair, tugging softly and deepening the kiss while pressing his ass
down against Jesse’s cock. But things didn’t progress. Christopher groaned and
slid off to the side, cuddling up next to Jesse and putting his head on his
chest again. “This is nice. Being here with you. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”
All the time.

“Where are the kids?”

“They decided to stay with their grandparents. Their cousins
are coming to visit tomorrow morning bright and early. They didn’t want to miss
them.”

“Brigid was good with not working on her crane project?”

“Oh, she has plenty of paper there. She made a ton today
during the football game. She’s still pretty far from her goal, but not
insurmountably far, I don’t think.”

“Who won the game? I saw the beginning but…well, the
hospital trip ate the end.”

“I don’t know. I missed it too. Want me to turn on Sports
Channel and find out?”

“No.” Christopher sighed. “So, you had a bad day too. What
happened?”

“You know, it really doesn’t seem important right now. I’d
rather just be here with you. It’s the only peace I’ve felt all day.”

Christopher’s phone chimed and he grabbed from the coffee
table. “It’s a text from Jackie. It wasn’t a stroke, thank God. His blood
pressure had just gone through the roof. It was pretty astronomical,
apparently.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?” Jesse asked halfheartedly.

Christopher tapped a response to Jackie and then leaned his
head back on the sofa, rolling it from side to side. “I guess. Well, yeah, of
course it is. But—fine, I’ll be honest. For a few terrible minutes during the
drive to the hospital, I really thought he was going to die, and I felt so
fucking relieved. Like this would finally, finally be totally fucking over.”

“I understand. I…” He took a deep breath. “I have thoughts
like that about Marcy all the time. With every infection I deal with the guilt
of hoping the treatment won’t work.”

Christopher rubbed Jesse’s thigh. “I let myself imagine what
that would be like, you know? Bob would be gone. Mom would be…well, devastated,
I’m sure, but she would heal eventually. And this is where it all gets really
sad and kind of awful—” Christopher barked a laugh. “Like what I’ve said so far
isn’t enough. This stuff is just…kind of mortifying.”

“Nothing you could say would surprise me. You’re talking to
someone with a PhD in not knowing what to want when it comes to another person’s
life.”

Christopher swallowed convulsively and stiffened his shoulders,
like he was bracing himself for what he admitted next. “I imagined how once he
was gone, and she’d had a chance to grieve, my mom would come to me, crying,
and apologize for having married him; for letting him treat me like that. She’d
tell me she was wrong, and she’d hug me, and we’d cry together, and I’d finally
get my mom back.”

“Chris…”

“But the reality is, I’ll never have my mom back, because I
never had my mom at all. You know how I told you music makes me feel like I
could slide into a world I miss every day, but where I’ve never been? I think
that’s a place where I have a family. One that loves me and protects me.”

“Oh, babe,” Jesse gathered him close and kissed his hair,
nearly carried away by an urge to declare that he’d take care of him, protect
him, and make sure no one ever hurt him again.

Christopher sighed against Jesse’s chest. “I’m not sure
where I go from here. Family-wise. I know I still have Gran…and probably
Jackie, Joe, and the kids, but I can’t go back ho… Huh. I was going to say ‘home’
but it was never really my home. It was always Bob’s house. I live in Gran’s
place. I guess I don’t have a home.”

You have a home here with me.
Jesse
swallowed hard, the words on the tip of his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t say
them. Not yet. He just held Christopher close, wishing he could take away his
hurt and loss. But he knew better than anyone that grief would have its way,
and they’d all just have to let it.