Brian.

 

Just the name alone was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

 

Lord, the things he did, the way he lived his life. It was beyond her why he had turned out the way he had.

 

Cold. He was a cold person, and selfish. Well, he had always been selfish and self-centered. That had been true about him ever since he was a child. Oh, and superior. He was always quick with a snide remark or a sarcastic comment, usually one designed to inflict the most hurt possible.

 

She was ready to wash her hands of him altogether. In fact she had just about done that when she decided to give him one more chance. Father Tom had convinced her that, depraved as he was, he was still her son and should have one more offer of redemption before she abandoned him to his ways and was finished with him for good.

 

So here she was, driving herself over to that barn of a place he lived in. The same place where she had surprised him and his—young man not all that long ago.

 

Good Lord, that had been one of the worst moments of her life, and that was saying quite a lot. Walking in on them the way she had, both of them nearly naked, reeking of sweat and—what they had just been doing. Dear God, she had likely interrupted them in the midst of…

 

It made her skin crawl just to think of it. And that boy was so young.

 

It was all just so awful.

 

She had prayed for him so many times over the years. She had stared before his birth, hoping for a healthy and bright child and her prayers had been answered. The prayers had continued when he was a child, when he became a troubled adolescent, a difficult teenager, when he left home and his family almost never saw him and finally when he was revealed for what he had become.

 

All of her friends, the ladies at the fellowship always bragged about their children and had lovely pictures they could bring out to show off. Well, she did what she could with Brian. He had always been too good looking for his own good and he certainly made plenty of money, but there were no pictures of a pretty wife or grandchildren and that was hard to explain to everyone. She let them all think that he was just playing the field, not ready yet to settle down. One day she would just tell them and one day she might even have to, but she dreaded the looks and the whispered comments behind hands when she walked by. She just couldn’t bear it.

 

Maybe this time she’d be able to convince him to come to church with her, maybe this time he’d realize that what he was doing was wrong and that if he was to be saved, he would have to save himself. She wondered when he had last been to confession. Maybe he would talk to Father Tom. He was such a sympathetic, understanding soul.

 

Pulling up to the curb, she managed to find a parking place only a block away from the horrid building and made her way up to the door. With all the money that Brian made, she’d have thought that he would want to live in a decent place, but that was him—always contrary. Evidently he’d rather live in a slum.

 

As she approached the building a man, likely a tenant, was just walking out and held the door open for her. That was nice of him since she didn’t know the entry code and would prefer avoiding standing on the sidewalk yelling into a speaker. She hated those things.

 

Taking the elevator to the top floor, she was surprised to see the sliding door slightly ajar so that she could move it open a bit. It moved quietly when it was moved slowly and had likely been oiled recently. It had been much noisier the last time she was here.

 

She saw the back of Brian’s head across the room. He was sitting comfortably on the floor, his back leaning against the white couch with a young child cradled on his lap. They were watching some movie on that big TV screen, joking and laughing about what they were seeing and hadn’t noticed her entrance.

 

She stood there watching them while as the old animated classic “Secrets of NIMH” played, the child became excited, shrieking, pointing and clapping his hands when the cartoon mice appeared.

 

Suddenly the toddler turned, put his arms around Brian’s neck and, hugging him tightly, kissed him soundly on the cheek, laughing happily.

 

To her surprise, Brian returned both the hug and the kiss, smiling openly at the child and speaking quietly to him while he caressed the child’s hair, saying something that made him laugh again.

 

This was extremely odd, Brian hated children. He avoided them whenever he could and never missed an opportunity to make a snide or belittling remark about any child he saw or to comment on the stupidity of the parents for producing them in the first place.

 

Lord knows that he had never paid any attention to his nephews.

 

The child turned his face so that she could get a clear look. Dear God.

 

 Of course.

 

Clearing her throat softly, she managed to catch their attention.

 

“Hello, Brian.”

 

“Mom.” He looked at her warily, probably wondering to what he owed the honor. If he was surprised or startled, he hid it well.

 

The boy looked up at her.

 

“Since when do you baby sit?”

 

“I do occasionally. This is Gus. Gus, this is my mother.”

 

The child looked at her, then back to Brian. “Mama?”

 

“Yes, that’s right. This is my Mama.” This seemed to be beyond the belief of the child, judging from the amount of laughter it provoked along with the high pitched squeal which sounded suspiciously like “Yo mama.”.

 

She forced a smile. Brian. Good God, he would never cease to surprise her.  Well, she could make the first move if she had to. “Hello, Gus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Can I do something for you, Mom?”

 

“I just thought that I’d stop by for a visit, that’s all. If this is a bad time, I could come back.”

 

“The last time you dropped in you said you’d never come back. Something happen to change your mind? Am I no longer going to Hell?” He turned back to the baby. “Gus, you watch the movie. I’m going to talk to my Mama for a little bit, OK? I’ll be where you can see me.”

 

“OK.” He settled on his stomach about two feet from the screen as Brian stood up and walked to the kitchen, Joan following.

 

“Who is that child, Brian?”

 

“I told you, that’s Gus.”

 

“He’s yours, isn’t he? He must be, you wouldn’t spend time with a child other than your own and he’s the picture of you when you were that age.”

 

He opened the fridge. “Can I get you something?”

 

“Brian, please answer me.”

 

“What are you doing here, Mom? You need a cup of sugar or something?”

 

“…I came over here in the hope that we could have a conversation like a couple of adults.”

 

He poured himself a cup of coffee, after gesturing a question at her with the pot; he poured Joan a cup, too, sliding it across the counter to her. “Even if one of us is a fag?”

 

“Please drop the unpleasant attitude, Brian. That won’t accomplish anything.” He looked slightly chastised, but only very slightly. “I’m here because Father Tom suggested that we might still try to understand one another. You’re still my son.”

 

“…You’re going to have to do a Hell of a lot better than that.”

 

She looked at him over the rim of her cup. As always, she took it black—strong and bitter was the way Brian thought of it, just like her.

 

To his surprise, she spoke quietly, calmly, barely meeting his eyes.

 

“You know that your father didn’t want you. What you didn’t know, because I never told you, was that I did. I was the one who made sure that the—thing would rip that night.” She was blushing furiously, talking about such things. “I had always wanted a son and I had always hoped that I would have one like you, tall and handsome. You were so bright and when you wanted to, you could charm anyone. You still can when you put your mind to it.” She sipped the coffee again. “But you were always so angry and so difficult that I never knew what to do with you. By the time you were ten or eleven I gave up trying to rein you in, after that you were out of control.”

 

“That was when Dad started really beating the crap out of me. Before that, he’d just hit me now and then.”

 

“He—wasn’t good with children.”

 

“Yeah, no shit.” He managed a bitter laugh at that.

 

“Brian, I’m trying to talk to you.” She used the Kinney glare even better than Brian did. She was the one he’d learned it from in the first place.

 

“Daddy? Juice?” Gus was beside him tugging on his hand.

 

“Sure Sonnyboy. Apple?” He poured a sippy cup full, snapping the lid on tightly. “OK?” Nodding, the child wandered back to the TV after giving Joan a curious look.

 

“I thought so. He is yours, isn’t he? Who is the mother?”

 

“No one you’ve met.”

 

“I’m assuming that there’s no chance that you and this woman will get married.”

 

“You assume correctly.”

 

“Is that child at least baptized? If something should, God forbid, happen to him, he’ll…”

 

“I know, he’ll go to Hell. Well, he can meet me there.”

 

She sipped her coffee again, trying to regroup. Brian could be impossible when he was in one of his moods. “Would you come to dinner with me tonight?”

 

“I have plans.” At least he didn’t laugh.

 

“With that young man you…”

 

“With my lover, Mom. You’ve met him. His name is Justin.”

 

She paused. She was trying here. Some part of her really did want to understand. “Do you have—feelings for him?”

 

“Or is he just a fuck? Is that what you’re asking? That’s none of your Goddamned business.”

 

“Brian, must you use such language?”

 

“Actually, yes.”

 

“…Do you have feelings for him?”

 

“Yes.” He seemed like he was about to leave his answer monosyllabic when he changed his mind. “He’s the first person I’ve loved who loves me back.” The last was said quietly, but was an obvious bone thrown in Joan’s teeth.

 

“But what can you have in common with a youngster that age.” She blushed, embarrassed at what she had just said. “I mean, beyond…”

 

“Beyond what we do in bed?”

 

Her nod was almost imperceptible.

 

He seemed exasperated by the naivety if the question. “We do the same things any couple do. We see friends, we go to dinner, we both have work—he’s in school. We’re just people.”

 

 “Daddy. Come back. Watch with me.”

 

“I’m coming, Gus.” Brian started to turn toward the TV then looked back to his mother. “Come watch with us.” It was an offer, the first one he’d made since she had arrived beyond giving her a cup of coffee.

 

“Alright.”

 

Brian settled back onto the floor leaning against the couch, Gus between his legs and using him as a backrest, Brian’s arms around him. Joan sat on the couch against the near arm.

 

Joan tried a different approach. The question was asked as though she was really seeking information, not thrown out as a challenge or an accusation. She had come here to try to talk with her son. So be it, try she would. “Brian, do you love this young man?”

 

He was about to snap out some retort, but stopped and looked at her, perhaps noticing the effort on her part. “Yes. I love him. We love each other.” He said it calmly, simply stating facts.

 

“He’s so much younger than you are.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“But you’re…”

 

“We’re what, Mom?”

 

“You’re both men.”

 

Brian actually laughed out loud without humor. “Yes, Mom, it’s called homosexuality.” She settled back against the cushions. He was always so snide when he spoke to her. Well, no matter, she wanted to have some of her questions answered.

 

“When did you first know? I’ve wondered about that. I thought that perhaps it started as just teenaged rebellion or some such, but I’ve been told that probably isn’t the case—I just don’t know.”

 

He turned his face to see if she was serious. She seemed to be but he hesitated. “I would like to hear what you have to say, Brian. I have some—regrets where you’re concerned. I would like to understand.”

 

He sighed, what the Hell, maybe she actually wanted to know.  Gus smiled up at him, loving the film. “I was first conscious of being aware of men—other boys—of having sexual feelings when I was probably about twelve. I may have had them before but didn’t know what I was feeling or was too frightened to think about it.”

 

“But you always had so many girls calling you when you were in school.”

 

“They called me, I never called them.”

 

“Yes, but you had a girlfriend in college. I remember her, that pretty blonde.”

 

“I was curious, so was she. It only lasted about a month.”

 

“But, the child—how did he…”

 

“I wasn’t in the same room when he was conceived, was I Sonnyboy? I did my part in private in an adjacent cubicle.”

 

“That’s unnatural.”

 

“According to you, so am I, so what’s the surprise?”

 

“Brian, please.”

 

“Fine. Gus’s mother needed a father. We’ve been friends for a long time. She asked, I agreed. It was pretty much that simple.”

 

They heard the door sliding open as Justin came home from the day’s classes and his diner shift. He tossed his bag onto the counter as the toddler shouted Justin’s name and hurled himself at his favorite person after his father. Catching him midstep, Justin threw him high in the air, catching him on the way down and tossing him high again. They ended in a swirl across the room to Brian and a welcome home kiss on the lips.

 

“Justin, you remember my mother.”

 

Handing over the child he acknowledged with “Hello, Mrs. Kinney.”

 

“You mean to tell me that he actually lives here?” She was looking at Brian.

 

“Justin and I have been together for almost three years.”

 

She hadn’t realized that. “But his parents, he can’t be old enough to…”

 

“I am old enough, Mrs. Kinney, and for that matter, the legal age of consent in this state is sixteen. I know, my father checked. There was nothing he could do.”

 

She stared at the youngster. He was sitting on the same couch she was, but on the other side of Brian, his leg resting against her son’s shoulder.

 

“And your parents accept this—arrangement?”

 

“My father has effectively disowned me, my mother is more reasonable.” It was stated matter of factly, something he was used to. He put his hand on Brian’s neck in a caress. “I told Mom that we’d bring the wine and dessert tonight. She’s grilling steaks, do you mind if I take some of that Cab you got last week?”

 

“No, that’s fine. There should be a couple of bottles in the rack.”

 

Joan was staring at them again, not believing the simple domestic conversation. It was so—normal. She just sat there, watching, listening.

 

“Deb let me take a box of lemon squares, so we don’t have to stop.”

 

“Good. What time is she expecting us?”

 

“She said about five. I think that means she’s expecting us at six since she knows you’re always late.”

 

“Twat.”

 

 “You mean me or my mother?” Justin gave him a mild look. It was obviously a common reaction.

 

“Like mother, like son.”

 

The movie was ending, the final credits rolling, the last song playing. “Gus, we’ve got to get you home. Your Mom’s are going to be wondering what happened to you.” Brian was already starting to stand up, looking around for Gus’ things.

 

Seeing the cloudy look on the toddler’s face Justin broke in. “If it’s OK with your Mom’s, would you like to come back next week?” The clouds broke, the smile was back.

 

The two men were gathering themselves, Brian was getting his shoes, and Gus was attempting to help put his toys in his bag with the promise of another visit as a lure. Joan sat for a couple of minutes, ignored, as they went about their small chores. Finally, she got up, getting her purse from where she had put in on the kitchen counter.

 

Brian and Justin were busy getting ready to go, she was momentarily forgotten.

 

Saying nothing to either man and with a final glimpse of Brian picking up his son and carefully tossing the child on the large bed as he shrieked with laughter, she let herself out of the loft, closing the elevator gate and pressing the button to take her down.

 

The entire thing, the whole arrangement that Brian seemed to have here with that young boy was an abomination. He was lost, both of them were lost, both of those men would never know God. The worst part about the whole thing was that they had no idea just how damned they were—and having that innocent child with them to see what they were doing only compounded the situation. She closed her eyes as she murmured a quick prayer for guidance.

 

She thought of the child, Gus? Was that his name? He looked so like Brian that she had almost wept. It was as though she had stepped back thirty years and seen her own son again before—well, just before everything had happened to turn him bitter and angry and to lead him off the path.

 

But she would pray for them all. She was a Christian and she would ask God to understand and to help them find the way back to salvation.

 

In fact, she would stop off on her way home to light three candles, one for each of them.

 

Turning the key in the ignition, she felt better. She had tried today to reach out to Brian. He hadn’t completely rebuffed her and with any luck, he might see that what he was doing was wrong.

 

She’d come back.

Return to Simon's Fanfiction