Thanksgiving was next week and Brian had been making plans.
He been thinking about this for a while now, but he hasn’t been sure that it was the right thing to do or even if Justin would want to go along with what he had in mind.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d been at loggerheads and sure as Hell wouldn’t be the last. He’d just go ahead and make his plans and then, if he decided that it was all stupid or a mistake, he’d just keep his mouth shut and Justin wouldn’t have to know.
They’d had another argument that morning which had ended up with Justin slamming out of the loft, snit in place. It had been a stupid thing, Brian had simply said that he didn’t care one way or another what they did over Thanksgiving weekend.
He honestly didn’t care. It just didn’t matter to him. He knew that they would likely end up at either Deb’s or Jennifer’s—they sure as shit wouldn’t be going to Joanie’s or Claire’s—and beyond that, what difference did it make? They would see the usual suspects and they would eat turkey and it would be fine.
Justin, on the other hand, was all for baking pies and mashing potatoes and decorating wherever they went and just generally getting into the holiday spirit. From there he had escalated the question to what would they be doing for the Christmas vacation?
Brian had said that he would probably get a couple of days off, but then he’d have to work.
That was, apparently not the answer that Justin was hoping for.
Fucking drama queen.
He started on a rant about how it was the first real Christmas when they were together and they should do something to celebrate and he would like to get a tree and presents and they could have their own private thing together and then they could watch Gus open his presents and then they could go over to Jen’s and eat some big fucking traditional dinner that she always made.
Brian had just rolled his eyes and away they went.
It had finally ended with the heavy door being slammed shut and Justin headed off to the diner for his shift—after which he would likely go off on a pout to either his mother’s, Deb’s or Daphne’s. He would expect to see the twat back again sometime shortly before three. After that he would either have been forgiven or would be treated to a day or two of silences interspersed with snide comments. There was even an off chance that he would get an apology.
“Heaven, I’m in Heaven…”
Well, what the fuck.
Oh well, as they say. If you can’t beat ‘em…
He was almost decided on the details of what he wanted, by this time tomorrow, he would know exactly what the deal would be. The question was to see how Justin would feel about it and what would be the best way to go about getting him to cooperate with what he had in mind.
They had been together, more or less—sometimes a lot less—for over two years now, almost three when he stopped to think about it. He had gone through a number of different phases with the little twat.
He had gone through lust and infatuation; he had passed along the road from friendship to affection, down the path of pity and obligation and around the bend to obligation and responsibility.
Somewhere, somehow, he had actually crossed the bridge to love.
Goddamnit and fuck a duck.
Debbie had been the first one to call him on it, that night in Woody’s.
She had told him that it was obvious that he loved the kid and that unless he was a lot dumber than she gave him credit for, he would fucking tell Justin that—just stand up and tell him how he felt before the kid found someone else who would.
Brian had told him, in his way and then he had ended up losing him anyway.
Fuck.
He’d had no idea that it would hurt so much.
OK, maybe he did have an idea. Maybe that was why he had fought so hard against ever giving in, admitting how he felt.
Justin had to know how he felt, though. He had to have known all along or he wouldn’t have stayed.
He knew.
And that was why he was making the plans he was.
He had almost everything in place. He knew what he wanted and all he had to do was figure out the final details. He might need some help with that part of it and that was what had him apprehensive.
Well, fuck. No point worrying about it. Either she’d go along with it or she wouldn’t. Picking up the phone he called her office and asked her to meet him that afternoon after work. She told him that she had to go straight home; he could meet her there. That would be fine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, he knew that Jennifer didn’t like him; God knew she’d made that clear over the last couple of years. She resented almost everything about him, disliked his lifestyle, the fact that he seemed to have confidence and was self-assured when she was struggling through a difficult time. She resented his money and his seeming lack of responsibilities, which allowed him to come and go as he pleased. She dismissed his commitment to Gus, seeing him only that he was a drop-in father, at best. She believed him an alcoholic and probably a drug addict. She harbored suspicions about not just his personal morals, but also about his assumed skirting of the law.
The fact that none of these perceptions about him were true didn’t matter. It was what she believed.
She made snide comments about his promiscuity and her firm belief that he would hurt her son and had made no secret of her happiness when Justin had left him for Ethan.
And mostly she hated him because of Justin.
She had told him that to his face. He had seduced her son, Brian was the one he trusted and loved and so now, like it or not, the boy was his responsibility.
He sometimes wondered if she blamed him for Justin being gay and decided, finally that, unlike Craig, she didn’t.
She did, however, blame him for Justin’s complete acceptance into the gay sub-culture and that he spent more time with his new friends than with his family. The corollary was that she resented that Brian’s influence on her son had superceded her own.
Well, it sucked to be her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~
He knew that there was a good chance that she would laugh in his face when he told her what he wanted to do and simply throw him out. Again.
If she did, he’d think of something else. One way or another he wanted this to work out the way he wanted it.
Just after six he pulled the corvette up to the curb in front of the condo. Her car was in the driveway already.
Finally, inside she offered him a cup of coffee he didn’t want as she started dinner, making hamburger patties.
They had never been all that comfortable together, Jennifer never able to get completely past the sight of Brian taking her seventeen year old son out of her home, away from his parents almost three years ago.
That had been bad enough, but the killer had been prom night and we all know what happened then.
She had tried to like him after she had understood how important he was to Justin. She knew that Justin loved him and she had come to believe that Brian returned the feelings in his own way.
When Justin had left him to be with Ethan she had been thrilled, thinking that the two youngsters would be good for one another. She had visions of them going to concerts and art shows together, of being supportive and loving and getting along without the constant drama that followed Brian where ever he went. She had liked Ethan.
She had certainly liked him more than she had liked Brian, at any rate.
Then Justin had left him, too.
Weeks later he was back with Brian.
She had tried to be happy for him, for both of them, but it was so difficult. Brian was capricious—blowing pleasant one minute and nasty the next. Mostly she knew that she simply didn’t fit into their world together as anything other than an occasional visitor. He was as uncomfortable with her as she was with him. The only think they had in common was Justin.
“What was it you wanted to see me about, Brian?”
“I was hoping that you would help me with something—sort of a Christmas present for Justin.”
Whatever she had expected, that wasn’t it. “Excuse me?”
Brian bit back the impulse to make a snide retort, tempting though it was. “I’d like to do something with him over the Christmas break, but I could use your help to keep it a surprise.”
She was seasoning the burgers. “Would you like one?”
“No, thanks. I can’t stay.”
“Are you meeting Justin?” She said it as though she dreaded the answer.
Oh, great. She couldn’t even stand the thought of them having fucking dinner together, she was going to love what he was about to ask her. “We’re going to an exhibit at PIFA he has some things in. He asked me to go with him.”
She put the patties under the broiler. Nothing fried in this house, nosirreebob. “Well, what was it you wanted me to help you with?”
“Are you going to your parents in
“I was planning to, yes. We go every year. The kids were going to come with me.”
“I’d like to go, too.”
She just looked at him as though he had suggested that he walk in the door of her parents home naked and screw Justin on the living room couch.
“Well, Brian—I’m not sure, it’s not my house and it’s really a family thing.” WASP manners perfectly in place telling him to fuck off.
“I know that and I’d keep my stay there to a minimum. I was thinking that I’d get there Christmas Eve, or even Christmas and then we—Justin and I—would leave the next day.”
She was still staring at him as though she was processing what he had
said and was wondering what the Hell he was getting at. “Why do you
want to go there? Couldn’t you just give him his present in
Alright, bombs away. “I want to ask him to marry me as his Christmas
present and if he says yes, then I want to leave
from your parents for
She came to a dead stop, stared at him than managed, “Are you serious?”
He gave her a steady look, not saying anything while she took it in.
“For the Love of God, he was almost killed because he was with you—I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. What on earth makes you think that I’d go along with this, let alone help you?”
He continued his look. “You know that he loves me and I’ve already told you that I care about him.”
She just shook her head as she moved to turn off he broiler. Obviously this would take longer than she had thought.
The gall of the man.
“That day at the GLC, the day I first laid eyes on you and you had your hands all over him and you were kissing him right in front of everybody, Debbie told me that you would hurt him. Because of you his skull was fractured. Because of you his heart was broken, because of you my marriage ended and my children live without a father. Why, in the name of God, do you think that I would help you do anything?”
She was right except for the one thing that she had left out. “Justin and I are—. We belong together.”
“Oh, please.”
“We’ll be together whether you approve or not, Jennifer. Justin will be happier if you don’t stand in the way and let him know that you support him.”
“Justin knows that I’m behind him. I don’t mean to be rude.” Of course she didn’t. This was Jennifer here. “Forgive me, but you’re who I object to. You’ll break his heart again.”
Shit, Fine. “You might be right, but I’m who he wants and you know that as well as I do.”
She went to the fridge, got out an open bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. He declined. Things were worse that he’d thought.
“Why do you have to do this at my parents? Couldn’t you just drive there from here at some point?”
“I don’t want him to feel like he’s sneaking around, like we have something to hide.”
She drained her glass in a swallow. Good Lord. “What exactly do you hope to accomplish by doing this? You don’t honestly believe that it will make the slightest bit of difference to the fact that you two can’t go an hour without an argument.”
Showed what she knew. In fact we didn’t argue all that much. “I want to do this for the same reasons anyone wants to. Just because I’m a fag doesn’t mean I don’t want to get married.”
She practically choked on her second glass of Merlot. “You? Brian, for God’s sake.”
He was getting tired of this. OK, she didn’t like him. He got that. He knew it. He’d seen that particular picture, thanks. He didn’t give a fuck. He wasn’t marrying her, Damnit.
“Jennifer, listen to me, please.” He was being as polite as he knew how. “I understand that I’m not exactly what you had in mind for Justin, but we love each other” (Jesus, did he say that?) “We want to be together and we want it to last. Married, he’s protected in case anything happens, either to us or to me. He’ll be in my will and I’ll be able to list him on my benefits at work. He’ll have both emotional and financial security. Isn’t that what you want for your kids?”
She was just shaking her head, whether at what he was saying or at him personally, he didn’t know.
“…Do you remember what he was like, how he was when we weren’t together?”
She sighed and reluctantly looked at him. “He was miserable. So were you.” She actually went for the third glass of wine. This was not a good day for her. “That doesn’t mean that I’m happy about it.”
“Because we’re fags?”
“Because it’s you.” In vino veritas. “You’ll hurt him. De—someone told me that once and they were right. It may be a while, but you’ll either tire of him or move on.”
“Or he will. Yes, maybe. Marriages don’t always last.” That was a slap in her face and they both knew it. “You go into them with hope that it will be good and you take your chances.”
“ …He’s still so young.” She looked sad at the thought, her first born. “Can’t you let him grow up some more?”
“How old were you when you got married?”
“Twenty-four. I’d finished college and we wanted to save before we got married. We waited until we had enough to pay for a down payment on our first house. Craig is a year older than I am.”
“Jennifer, he’ll be alright.” He finally poured himself a glass from the opened bottle. Damn. “I won’t do anything to purposely hurt him.”
She looked at him, appraising. “I believe you. You will hurt him, but I believe that it won’t be on purpose.”
“Mom?” Molly walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Brian.” She leaned against the counter, serious. “I think they should get married. I think they’d be happy together.”
Jennifer regarded the child who had obviously been eavesdropping. She decided not to make an issue of it quite yet. “Why do you think that, sweetie?”
“Because Justin told me that they love each other and that they’re happy when they’re together.”
“Sweetie, there’s more to it than just that. I know it seems like that should be enough, but sometimes it’s…”
“Well, it should be, shouldn’t it? Enough, I mean.”
“Molly, you don’t understand what’s really going on and…”
“God, Mom, yeah I do. Justin and Brian are gay and they’re in love ad Brian wants to ask Justin to marry him. What’s the big problem? Brian’s handsome and rich and Justin isn’t a troll and he needs a grownup to take care of him even though he thinks he doesn’t.”
“Molly…”
“OK, Dad hates Brian, like who doesn’t know that?—no offense, Brian.”
“None taken.”
“Dad hates Brian and Brian doesn’t like Dad, either, but that’s not a big deal. It’s not like they hang out or anything.”
“Molly, your Mom has some concerns about whether or not Justin and I can sustain a relationship over a long period.” Brian liked Justin’s sister; she was a lot like him—looking like an angel and sharp as a tack and hard as nails under the façade.
She fixed him with the look he would occasionally use on Gus. “Would you ask him if you thought that you’d break up in a couple of years or if you thought that it would suck if you were together all the time?”
“Well—no.”
“And you think he wants to marry you, too?”
“If I didn’t think that I wouldn’t ask him.”
“OK, so?”
Jen looked at the two of them, Brian and Molly standing close together and understanding one another. They were right, as far as they went. There were problems, any idiot could see them a mile off, but they were right. She had one last thought. “You know that family is important to Justin. You can’t try to isolate him. It would hurt him and he wouldn’t accept it.”
“If I wanted to do that, why the fuck would I be here asking you to help? Not every family is as screwed up as mine is.”
Jen started to take another drink of the wine but stopped herself. “Thanksgiving is next week, come to dinner with us. My parents will be here and my sister is bringing her family. You should meet them before you spring this on everyone next month.”
“Mom? Really?” Molly beamed the sunshine smile at her mother and hugged Brian. “This is going to be so cool. You can be my brother.”
He kissed the top of her head. That crush she developed the first time she’d met him had gotten worse with time. She was practically in love with him. “And I might be getting a sister I can actually stand to be with.”
Jen was resigned. She knew she couldn’t stop this and there was nothing to be gained by being viewed as the enemy. Better to be on reasonably good terms so she could keep an eye on things. “Alright, what do you want me to do to help you next month?”
She saw one of the only—maybe even the first—real smiles she had ever seen on his face. “Just make sure that he goes to your parents for Christmas and that it stays a surprise. Molly—you, too.”
She managed a wan smile, nodding.
“Thank you, Jennifer.” He picked up his jacket, slipped it back on as he glanced at the wall clock. “Justin is expecting me back. I’ll be in touch.”
“And you’re coming for turkey, right?”
“I’ll be here, Molly—and you’ll run interference for me with your relatives, right? The queers are going to be outnumbered, I think that I’m going to need allies.”
When he left a couple of minutes later Jen sent Molly to get cleaned up for dinner and flicked the broiler back on.
So, this was where it was headed. Her son, her baby, her Justin was going to marry a man—a man!—who was almost twice his age, with more areas of dysfunction that the abused stray dog they’d once taken in and he would, one way or another and without question, cause pain to them all.
Somehow she knew that this would end badly. She hoped that she was wrong, but she didn’t think that she was.
She remembered something she’d heard once. A mother was asked how she had let her headstrong daughter marry a man who was all wrong for her, who would break her heart. The answer was honest and simple. “I can’t do anything to stop it and at least this way she’ll have a happy second marriage. All I can do is to be there when she needs me.”
When Brian did whatever he’d inevitably end up doing, she’d be there to pick up the pieces.
Return to The Christmas Chronicles