Authors: Ken Murphy
“I know you did, son,” she soothed as she patted the back of his head.
“Derrick brought us,” he offered.
“I’m glad he did,” Helen replied. She looked over at Derrick and winked.
As if he suddenly realized what he had said, Trevor smiled and looked around the room. “You know I meant to say that Derrick came with us,” he explained.
“I knew exactly what you meant.” Helen laughed, rubbing his back. “Now go say hello to your sister and then get something to eat.” She walked over to introduce herself to Mark and gave him and Derrick strong hugs as well.
“You two grab a plate,” Helen said to Mark and Derrick. “I’d bet you’re both starving.”
“This kitchen is as big as my whole condominium,” Mark said with a grin as he surveyed his surroundings.
Mahogany-stained cabinets covered every wall, save for a large window over the sink. A huge island in the center of the room housed the range top and two ovens. Pots simmered on three of the burners, and much of the counter was lined with dishes and containers of food.
“That’s because all we ever do is cook,” Camille said from across the counter. She walked around and introduced herself, giving Mark a firm handshake.
“No wonder Trevor cooks so well,” Mark said.
“Oh, he doesn’t cook when he’s here,” Camille replied, giving Mark a quirky half smile.
“That’s because they treat me like I’m the baby,” Trevor offered, peering up as he lifted the lid from one of the pots.
“You
are
the baby,” all three women chimed in unison.
Everyone laughed.
They finally finished eating after each person took extra servings at Helen’s prodding. Mark and Derrick excused themselves to go outside and bring in the suitcases. Helen met them in the hallway near the steps leading up to the second floor.
“You know what to do.” She nodded to Derrick as he started up the stairs.
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do,” he said with a grin.
“What about me?” Mark asked as he moved to follow Derrick.
“You’re in Trevor’s room,” Derrick answered over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs.
Mark looked down questioningly at Helen as she stood at the base of the stairs, one hand on the banister.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she said with a wink. “I have been a nurse for almost forty years. I have three children and five grandchildren. More importantly, I have no problems with whatever goes on behind closed doors.”
“Thanks.” Mark smiled, not sure of what else to say.
“You’re welcome.” She nodded, and then her expression became more serious. “Trevor needs you close by him right now.” Mark could hear the sadness in her voice. “Come back down when you’re settled.” She took a deep breath, turned, and walked back in the direction of the kitchen.
“What an incredible lady,” Mark said as they reached the top of the stairs.
“She certainly is that,” Derrick said a little hoarsely.
Mark noted that Derrick’s eyes were moist as well. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to place a hand on Derrick’s shoulder.
“I’m fine. I think this has just been a couple of long days.” He gave Mark a soft smile.
“You don’t look so fine to me,” Mark said hesitantly, nudging Derrick’s shoulder with his own.
Derrick dropped his bags and pulled Mark into his embrace, squeezing tightly for a few seconds. Mark returned the hug with equal intensity.
“I’ll be fine tomorrow,” Derrick said as he stepped away. “This is mostly fatigue. I was tired before Helen called. Can you just let everyone know I decided to turn in?”
“Sure thing,” Mark replied.
Derrick led Mark down the hall and pointed to a door on the left. “This is your room, and I’m right across the hall.”
Mark nodded and then carried his and Trevor’s bags into the room. The room was very attractive and comfortable. The wallpaper was bold vertical stripes of green, red, gold, and black. The furniture was heavy and masculine. Mark wondered if the room had always been this way or if it had been redecorated after Trevor left for college. The room didn’t quite feel like Trevor. Then again, Mark realized he didn’t know what Trevor’s taste in decorating was like. He had only seen the room he rented from Derrick. And that wasn’t really decorated, just functional. He made a mental note to ask Trevor about his room. Mark opened the suitcases on the bed and began to hang their clothes in the closet. He felt Trevor’s presence before he actually spoke.
“I was wondering what happened to you,” Trevor said as he walked into the room.
Mark looked up from the suitcase and smiled. “I just wanted to make sure everything was unpacked and hanging so that the wrinkles would fall out of our clothes.” He picked up the last of the items and set them to the side. Mark closed the bag and set it on the floor.
“We can put that stuff away later.” Trevor held out one hand toward Mark.
Mark looked up at Trevor’s expression, then nodded his understanding. He walked over and wrapped his arms around Trevor. He caressed the back of Trevor’s head with one hand. Trevor moaned softly and leaned into the contact. He pulled Mark close and gripped him tightly. They stood in the middle of the room, quietly holding one another.
After a while, Trevor relaxed his arms and lifted his head to look at Mark. “Momma wants to talk about the funeral stuff.”
“Okay,” Mark said, letting his arms fall to his side. “I’ll finish putting things away.”
“No!” Trevor interrupted sharply; then he softened his tone. “I know it’s silly, but can you come with me? I’ll feel better if you are there with me.”
Mark wrapped his arms around Trevor again. “Geez, Trev. Of course I will be there too.”
“Thank you.” Trevor sighed and gave Mark a quick kiss on the lips. He pulled Mark close again and rested his head on Mark’s shoulder. “I am so tired right now.”
“I know you are,” Mark answered as he used both hands to massage Trevor’s head.
A
FTER
a while, they joined the others downstairs in the sitting room. Helen stood and asked Mark to help her bring in snacks. He followed her, and Trevor sat on one of the sofas. As they walked into the kitchen, Mark told Helen that Derrick had gone to bed for the evening.
“I’ll talk to him in the morning.” Helen nodded knowingly. “Derrick has been a part of our family for a while now; he and Trevor are such good friends. Still, there are times when he doesn’t seem to be… comfortable, I guess. I can’t think of a better way to describe it.” She shrugged as she bent over and pulled a large wooden serving tray from a cabinet. She placed the tray on the countertop and walked over to another set of cabinets. She began pulling out various boxes and bags of cookies and other treats.
“I can’t imagine why anyone would be uncomfortable here,” Mark said sincerely. “I’ve only been here a couple of hours and you have all been so nice to me.” He reached over and began opening the containers, helping Helen rearrange the treats on the tray.
“Thank you, Mark,” Helen said with a warm smile. “Derrick comes here and sees how we interact with one another. He’s a part of us, and I think it makes him feel a little guilty about his relationship with his own parents. He wishes his own family were more tolerant. His parents seem to want to be part of Derrick’s life, and I’m sure that they love him. But they refuse to accept that he’s gay.”
“That has to be difficult,” Mark sympathized. “I’m very lucky that my parents only wanted me to be happy.”
“I think most parents want their children to be happy,” Helen offered. “But the problems arise when children’s dreams are different from the dreams of their parents. I have always loved my children and encouraged them to follow their hearts and desires. But I must admit that I’m very thankful for my grandchildren. Perhaps if Derrick wasn’t their only child, his parents might be more accepting.”
“That may be true,” Mark conceded. “But I think that loving each other for who we are is the most important thing. Everything else can be managed if that part is right. If Derrick feels as though he can’t be himself around his parents, the relationship has to be strained. That builds into a gulf that is hard to bridge. Maybe if his parents could see him in a loving relationship, they might learn to be more accepting. And being gay doesn’t mean you can’t have children. If Derrick decides one day he wants children, there are certainly plenty of people out there who need someone to love them and help them grow.”
“Wise and practical,” Helen said with a nod and a smile. “I’m starting to see why my son loves you.”
Mark felt his cheeks flush. He looked down at the wooden tray and fussed over the cookies, lining them up evenly.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Helen chuckled, patting his shoulder. “I’m not saying a thing you don’t already know.” She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of green tea. “Bring the tray with you,” she called over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen.
M
ARK
placed the tray on the sofa table and sat down next to Trevor, who immediately pulled his hand into his own. Mark squeezed Trevor’s hand and scooted closer to him.
Helen poured glasses of tea, and Camille handed one to each person. After pouring the last glass, she took her place on a gold-framed wooden chair at the end of the sofa table. This seat placed her in the center, between the sofas where her children and Mark sat, waiting. She took a breath and then outlined the plans for the next two days. “Tomorrow at two o’clock, they have set up a private viewing for just the immediate family,” Helen said, looking at each of her children in turn. “Of course, that includes you and Derrick as well,” she continued, looking directly at Mark.
He nodded his understanding.
Helen continued, telling them the main viewing would be held from six until eight in the evening. This viewing would be open to all family members and friends. And then on Wednesday, the church service would be at one o’clock, followed by a private graveside service at two. “I don’t want everyone going out to the cemetery in this weather,” Helen explained.
They continued to talk for a little longer, and then Camille and Sarah excused themselves to go to their own homes. Everyone exchanged hugs and they left. Mark offered to help clean up and put away the uneaten snacks, but Helen shushed him dismissively.
“You have had a long day and you both need to get to bed,” Helen said as she turned off lights in the room.
Mark and Trevor carried the food to the kitchen and left it on the countertop. They said their good-nights to Helen and climbed the stairs to Trevor’s room. They each took a turn in the bathroom, cleaning up for the night. Without a word, they both crawled into bed. Mark reached over and wrapped his arms around Trevor and then shifted so that Trevor’s head rested on Mark’s chest. Trevor sighed and draped one arm over Mark’s body. He drifted off to sleep with Mark still rubbing small circles on his back.
T
HE
next morning Mark awoke to find that he was alone in the bed. He looked around but found that Trevor wasn’t in the bathroom, either. He quickly cleaned up and dressed in jeans and a gray polo. He found Trevor in the kitchen, sitting at the counter, watching as Helen talked Derrick through the process of making biscuits. She watched and instructed as Derrick pulled out chunks of batter, rolled them into balls, and then placed them on a baking sheet. Derrick took in every word and worried over each biscuit, making certain that each was the same size and distance from the others. In spite of his seriousness, it was obvious he was enjoying himself immensely. Mark grinned to himself as he walked over to stand behind Trevor and placed a hand on his shoulder. Trevor reached up and intertwined his fingers with Mark’s. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed Mark’s fingers and held them there.
Just as Derrick finished the second tray of biscuits, the back door opened and Camille and Sarah walked in, both loaded down with more food. Mark hurried over to help the sisters with their burdens. As they arranged containers on the counter, Helen and Derrick pitched in as well. Mark glanced over and saw Trevor watching him. He noted that Trevor seemed preoccupied. He made a mental note to find some alone time with Trevor later.
As if on cue, the timer went off for the biscuits. Right after that, the back door opened again. This time it was Camille’s husband Ben, and Sarah’s husband Edward, along with all five of their collective children. The two youngest were in infant carriers. Mark was certain he would never get all the names right, so he limited himself to generic greetings. The three oldest children ran over to greet “Uncle Trevor.” He was covered in kisses and hugs. Two of the children, Camille’s twin boys, sat on opposite sides of Trevor’s lap, while the other stood and faced him. The four of them formed a tight circle, each child chattering cheerfully. Trevor grinned and spoke to each one, but Mark couldn’t hear what he said to them.
Helen placed a stack of plates on the counter and announced that everything was ready to eat. Sarah and Camille started off, filling plates for the children. Trevor sent the children off to follow their mothers. Soon everyone began moving around the counter, heaping their plates with the steaming food. There seemed to be several conversations going on at the same time. Mark looked over at Derrick, who grinned and shrugged. Mark smiled as well and took his plate to go and sit with Trevor, who reached over and squeezed his thigh. Derrick came over and joined them as well. The three ate in silence as chatter from the others filled the room. Trevor tried to keep up with the conversations, shifting his focus from person to person.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. The sisters and their families left around eleven to get everyone ready. Helen kept busy in the kitchen. Derrick had gone upstairs to make some calls. Mark followed Trevor into the sunroom and sat beside him on a bench. The large windows offered an excellent view of the mountains in the distance. Trevor reached over and took Mark’s hand, which he brought briefly to his lips and then rested on his thigh.
“I think this was his favorite room in the whole house,” Trevor said, looking out at the mountains. “He sometimes sat in here for hours. I think he bought the house just for this view.”