The Perfect Family (14 page)

“It’s after five. Don’t you want to go home?”

She shrugged a slim shoulder, encased in a white blouse. “Not much to go home to.” Laura wasn’t married, but her family lived nearby. As if she read his mind—she seemed to do that a lot—she added, “I was supposed to go to my mother’s for dinner, but she canceled. Again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you see the note from
your
mother?”

“No. I haven’t checked my messages.”

Coming to the desk, she leaned in close, picked up a stack of pink slips, and set them in front of him.

His mother’s note said there was no emergency, she only wanted to chat. He leafed through the other slips. “There’s one from Maggie in here.” God knew what had happened now! He frowned at Laura. “I asked you to tell me right away if she or the boys called.”

“Oh.” She tucked her sweep of brown hair behind her ear. “She said she’d try your cell. I forgot about it.”

His cell had been off during his afternoon meeting with his boss. His assistant should have known that.

Without saying more, Laura went back to the credenza. Puzzled, Mike watched her for a minute. Suddenly, he felt uncomfortable in her presence, so he stood, tossed some files into his briefcase, and snapped it shut. He had a church meeting at six, but he decided to go in early and have some prayer time before. Sitting in God’s house often clarified things for Mike, and he needed that now.

Again, Laura turned at the sound. “Are you leaving? Your schedule says you have church at six.”

“Yeah. I think I’ll knock off early.” He circled his desk, and when he got to the door, said, “Don’t stay too late.”

“I—”

“See you tomorrow.”

Once in the car, a gas-saving Hyundai that he’d thankfully purchased before the economic downturn, Mike leaned back in the front seat and faced another worry that he’d been keeping at bay. Had he been right to save Laura’s job? For some time, he’d suspected her feelings for him were less than professional. He hadn’t encouraged her in any way, of course, but she was young and impressionable, and lonely, he guessed. Besides, Maggie said he was still handsome as sin.

Thinking of his wife, he got out his phone. He called her cell, then the home number, and no one answered. Relieved that he didn’t have to face more hostility—God, he hated that he felt that way about his own family—he was suddenly anxious to get to church. Clearing his mind, Mike drove out of the parking lot and headed to St. Mary’s.

*

Maggie emptied the dishwasher, praying that all was going well upstairs. Jamie had closeted himself in Brian’s room after school to tell his brother that he was gay. She was putting the last of the dishes away when a crash came from above. Rushing out of the kitchen and up the steps, she could hear Buck barking inside the room. She rapped her knuckles on the door to let them know she was coming in, then swung it open. The dog bolted out and scrambled down the steps. Jamie was sitting on Brian’s double bed, his back against the headboard, knees up, his face ashen.

Brian loomed over his desk in the corner. Everything except his computer had been flung off the surface onto the floor. His lamp was upended and the wastebasket tipped on its side, spilling out papers and candy wrappers. The chair was at an angle on the dark blue rug. Behind him was one of the many sports posters lining his walls—a boy in a wheelchair lifting weights. The caption read, “We are all different, but the same.”

“What’s going on here?”

Brian’s eyes were wild. “You knew.”

Leaning against the doorjamb, she tried to appear calm. “Jamie told me a week or so ago.”

“And he didn’t tell
me
.” He rounded on his brother. “We shared our whole lives. I told you fucking
everything
. And you kept
this
a secret?”

Maggie understood Brian’s knee-jerk reaction all too well.

Jamie started to answer. “I—”

“How could you not tell me?” Brian cut him off.

“It’s complicated, Bri.”

“Brian,” Maggie intervened. “Listen to me. We—”

His face was flushed when he turned on her. “No, Mom, don’t try to calm me down. My brother’s a goddamned faggot and he doesn’t even bother to let me know.”

Jamie gasped.

Crossing to Brian, Maggie grabbed onto his upper arms as tightly as she could. “I understand you’re upset, and I’ll give you space for your anger and confusion. But don’t you
ever
use that vile term in my presence, or your brother’s, again.” She drew in a breath and tried to soften her tone. “And be careful what you say right now. Words can’t be taken back later when we regret saying them.”

Brian’s eyes filled with tears. “Why are you siding with him?”

“There aren’t sides here.”

Dear God, don’t let there be sides here. She couldn’t handle that.

Jamie vaulted off the bed and drew himself up to full height in front of his brother. “Go to hell. For the record, there’s nothing you could have told me about yourself that would make me be so brutal to you.” He stormed out of the room. Maggie heard a door slam.

“I’m outta here,” Brian said, brushing past her.

Again, she grabbed his arm. “No, you’re not.”

With a man’s strength, he shrugged her hand off. “Let go, Mom.”

She literally chased after him but he reached the front door before she did. “Brian, honey, please don’t leave. You’re upset, you shouldn’t be driving.”

“I gotta get out of here.”

And so Maggie stood in the foyer, helplessly, as her son banged out, got in his car and drove off. She sank down on a step, her heart a giant vise in her chest. The dog scuttled over, and she buried her face in his fur. “What are we going to do, Bucky?” After taking solace in the pet’s affection, she dragged herself up, climbed the stairs, and knocked on Jamie’s door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

The room was shadowed by maple trees right outside his window, which allowed in a warm breeze. It stirred the hint of incense in the air. Her son was on the bed, his T-shirt and jean-clad frame stretched out, his forearm resting over his closed eyes.

“You all right?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing.” The sandpapery tone of his voice made her throat clog.

“Do you want to talk about this?”

No answer. Then she saw his shoulders shake. Though Jamie was a sensitive kid, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him cry as a teenager. Sitting down on the bed, she tried to pull him up. He resisted, then lurched forward and collapsed into her arms. It was an awkward position, but she held him as he wept like he was a boy half his size and age. Stroking his hair, she murmured soothing words until the catharsis passed.

Finally Jamie sat back and wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. “I, um, didn’t expect this from Brian.”

Shock at her son’s naïveté that everyone would accept his disclosure easily left her without a response. Accompanying it was raw fear that Jamie wasn’t ready for what he might encounter out in the real world. Hell, he hadn’t been ready for what came at him from inside his own house.

When he peered up at her, his eyes were red-rimmed. “Remember when we were little, Mom? Brian was bigger than me then. That kid Anthony picked on me so Bri beat him up. And he always chose me for his kickball team, even though I sucked at sports.”

“I know, Jame.”

“Now he’s turning on me. I can’t believe it.”

“He’s not turning on you. He’s upset. We don’t know exactly why.”

“Mom, come on, he called me a faggot.”

She said loftily, “I’d prefer you didn’t use that ugly word, either.”

Jamie gave her what passed for a smile.

“All I’m saying, honey, is there’s a lot that he could be upset about.”

“Name what else besides the fact that it grosses him out that he’s got a gay brother.”

“Well, for one, you didn’t tell him sooner. You heard what he said. You two share everything. More than you share with me or Dad, right?”

“I guess.”

“So maybe that’s at the root of his reaction.”

Jamie studied her. “You can’t
make
all this right, Mom.”

“I know I can’t.” Melissa had told her that many times. “And if I become overbearing, you need to tell me. But we know Brian. He’s a decent boy. Give him time.”

In the end, Jamie agreed—he didn’t have much choice. As he’d said, Maggie couldn’t fix this and neither could he. She went to her own bedroom to decompress, wondering how much time it would take for Brian to come to grips with his brother’s homosexuality.

Brian stepped on the gas pedal and the engine kicked into gear. “Fucking son of a bitch. Jesus Christ.” He pounded the steering wheel with his fist. When the car fishtailed, he made himself slow down. He had to stay calm until he got to Heather’s. With any luck, her mother wouldn’t be home.

She was. Their ordinary SUV sat in the driveway of their house. It looked like every other ordinary suburban home. Up until a few minutes ago, Brian thought his own family was as ordinary. Perfect, in some ways.

Never again! His brother was a fag. He wouldn’t say the word in front of his mother again, but he could when he was alone.

His mother.

Who’d always been on his side. Who’d always been there for him. Thinking about how she looked at him today, what she said in that horrible voice, made his throat hurt.

Heather stepped out of her house, slamming the front door behind her. She was so hot in her tight jeans and pink top, with those cute little sneakers on. So feminine. But Jamie wouldn’t think so. Jamie liked…Fuck!!

When she reached the window, she leaned over. Her shirt gaped and he caught a glimpse of her breasts. Usually the sight of her rack made him hard. Today, nothing. “Hey, what are you doing sitting in the car out here?”

“I…” Jesus, he blinked a few times. “I need to talk to you.”

Her smile disappeared and she touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

Unable to answer, he shook his head.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No. Let’s go for a ride.”

After Heather told her mother she was leaving, they were on their way. Her sitting next to him calmed him down some. “Bri, what—”

“Not yet.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go to the park.” Where they often went to talk. And to do other things. Thinking about those other things, and Jamie doing them with a guy, Brian wanted to puke. He swerved a little too fast into their usual spot in between two big oak trees.

“Brian, you’re scaring me.”

“Today I found out…it’s bad.”

“God, is it your parents? Jamie?”

An ugly laugh escaped him. “Jamie…Jamie…”

“Tell me, please.”

He faced her. “He’s gay, Heather. My brother’s gay.”

For some reason, she seemed puzzled. “Is that all?”

“What the fuck do you mean, is that all? Didn’t you hear me, he’s a queer.”

Heather was so quiet, it confused Brian. Then she took his hand. “Bri, really, it’s okay. He’s still Jamie. He’s still the same person he was yesterday.”

Out of nowhere, he thought of Grandma Lorenzo. How inflexible she was. One time when they were in Cornwall, Jamie questioned her about Caroline. Their grandma said, “She’s dead to me.” Brian had been horrified she’d cut her own child out of her life. So, okay, he had to get a grip here. He had to find his way through this. He was just so hurt Jamie didn’t tell him. So confused about how he felt about this.

“What are you thinking?” Heather asked.

He leaned his head back on the seat. “This is gonna get all over school.”

“So what? Anti-gay sentiment is very uncool these days. There are TV programs and movies that show being gay in a positive light. We’ve even read articles in Advanced Health on sexual orientation and discussed the issue in Psychology. Teenagers are more tolerant than you think.”

“Oh, man, not jocks. They are
so
not going to think this is okay. They’re brutal to the dykes on the basketball team. They make crude remarks all the time about what girls do together.”

“Susie Mason and Jill Blazek are sweet girls. There are a lot of gay students at our school, Bri.”

“Yeah, sure, I know. The kids in drama club.” Who were Jamie’s friends. Paul and Nick were gay, Jamie said. Why hadn’t Brian ever recognized the significance of the fact that Jamie hung around with gay kids? “It’s different when it’s your own brother. Besides, nobody cool, nobody in our crowd is gay.”

Heather shook her head. “When Luke Crane broke up with Kiki Jones after the play, it got around that he might be gay.”

“Crane? No way, he’s the best pitcher on the team.”

“Bri…come on, this is the twenty-first century. Those stereotypes are passé.”

“Sherwood High is conservative, Heather. I always kind of liked that.” He hit his hand on the steering wheel. “And those over-the-top Christian kids will freak.” Oh, shit. Julianne was one of them. Poor Jamie.