Joan VS The State of Liberty
Chapter 1
"Father Tom, wonderful sermon as always. I especially enjoyed today's homily, friendship, tolerance, we all need friends."
"Yes, we do, Mrs. Kinney. I must extend my congratulations. I hear the art show has been highly successful, you must be very proud."
"I'm not sure what you mean, and isn't pride a sin."
"The art show, the exhibit of the lost Kinney paintings. I hear they're going to make a fortune at the auction. In this case, pride will be helping a lot of needy children. The proceeds will be going to such a worthy cause. Just another example of your son's generosity to his community. And your daughter, of course, has been supportive too. I'm glad your family is becoming close."
"Father Tom, I don't wish to be rude but I have no idea what you're talking about. And as for my son giving to his community, all he's giving, I'm sure, is some incurable disease."
"Mrs. Kinney, surely you don't mean that and it's been in all the local papers; how Brian's partner discovered the paintings and the show at the Bloom gallery and the sale."
"Newspapers, filthy things, I never read them. Full of smut, I'm surprised at you."
"Joan, Joan, excuse me Father. Joan, I just had to catch you."
"Beryl, good morning. I was just complimenting Father Tom on his sermon today."
"Oh, yes, it was so heartfelt. And so appropriate. I had to thank you or rather would you express my thanks to your son for me."
"My son? Why would you want to thank him?"
"If it wasn't for him my son would have never had the courage to submit a painting to the art show."
"I'm not following you."
"You know, the art show."
"Father Tom and I have been discussing it."
"Well, before the exhibit premiered, the Bloom Gallery advertised for submissions from local gay artists, the best to be displayed along with the Kinneys. This is so exciting I can hardly tell you."
"Calm down, Beryl, and try."
"Of course, Joan. My son decided to submit a painting and it was chosen. He was then asked to have three pieces ready for the show and two have already been sold!"
"But your son is a doctor, why would he be interested in that sort of thing."
"Joan, I'm surprised at your attitude considering how prominent your son is. Yes, my son is a doctor but he uses art in his practice. He's a rehabilitation specialist. And he's always loved art and painting."
"And your son knows Brian?"
"Joan, I don't know where you've been hiding but in THE community, everyone knows Brian. Excuse me again, Father."
"That's quite all right. I understand."
"I must be going. My son and his partner are coming over and we're going to the exhibit. It's closing by the end of the week and I want to see the paintings again. Good to see you Joan, and please say hello to Brian for me. Good day, Father."
"Goodbye."
"Bye. You see, Mrs. Kinney, your son has made a significant contribution to the community."
"You're mistaken Father. My son hasn't made any contribution to MY community. And how can you promote their disgusting lifestyle. And how is Brian prominent, as she says?"
"Brian is a very successful businessman and as such he has made several charitable contributions. Why his political influences alone helped to save this city from a corrupt mayor. And I can't tell you how he came through with his help with the Vic Grassi Home. He may not like being known for these acts of charity but his community is well aware of them. And I see you weren't paying attention to my sermon after all. A word of advice, Mrs. Kinney. I was fortunate enough to be invited to the opening of the Kinney exhibition. Your son and your daughter were there as well as their families. It saddened me that you weren't in attendance to share this very important discovery with them. We've had many long chats and I know you have very little family left. If you don't find a way of reconnecting with Brian and Claire, you may find yourself truly all alone. Go in peace, Mrs. Kinney."
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"Claire."
"Mother, so nice of you to drop by. What brings you here?"
"Do I need an excuse to see my daughter and grandchildren? Where are they?"
"Sitting in the kitchen, finishing their homework. We're going to bake some cookies afterwards for dessert. Ah, would you like to stay for dinner? I'm making a pot roast."
"Pot roast? Since when do you know how to make a pot roast?"
"Uh, I had help with the recipe. Are you staying? Brian is coming for dinner."
"No, I don't think so. Claire, I heard something very disturbing today at church. It seems that there is a rumor going around that you've been seen at an art gallery in that disgusting part of town that your brother frequents. I'm sure there's been a horrible mistake."
"Mother, I was asked to attend an exhibition of paintings that were done by an ancestor of Dad's. I was very proud to attend. The Kinney family needed to be represented."
"And who is this artist that everyone seems to know about except for me."
"His name was John Aidan Brian Kinney. Daddy was his great, great grandson. He was an artist and he was a prominent landowner in Bridgeton. Now mother, you'll have to excuse me. The boys should be about done with their homework and there are cookies to bake."
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"Father Tom, here."
"Good evening, Father. Joan Kinney calling."
"Yes, Mrs. Kinney, how may I help you?"
"I've been thinking about the art show. I'd like to attend but I have no one to take me. Would you consider escorting me?"
"I'd be honored to. But wouldn't you prefer going with Brian or Claire?"
"No, Father, I wouldn't. And I'd like to go when the gallery is quiet. I don't like crowds."
"Very well, I know the owner and I believe Mr. Bloom wouldn't mind a private showing; you are related to the artist. I'll call him and then let you know the arrangements."
"Thank you, Father. You've been very helpful. Goodnight, Father."
"Good night, Mrs. Kinney."
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On the last day of the show Sidney Bloom opened his gallery an hour early so that Father Tom could escort Joan Kinney in to see the paintings done by John Aidan Brian Kinney. Sidney met them at the door.
"Hello, Mrs. Kinney. It's nice to meet you," Sidney said as they entered the gallery.
Joan glanced around nervously wondering what abominations awaited her inside. "Thank you," she said shaking the extended hand. "It … it was good of you to accommodate us."
"I'm sorry you couldn't attend the opening. It was a big success, and the auction of Kinney's paintings is going to bring in a lot of money."
"Really," Joan said coldly. She wasn't about to admit that she hadn't been invited to the opening. In fact, no one had even told her about the show. But what could she expect from her depraved son and her ungrateful daughter?
Sidney ushered them into the Kinney room where all the paintings from the root cellar were shown in their glory. Joan walked around slowly taking it all in. She was slightly surprised by the content of the paintings. There were some of the artist and his family. Many were landscapes showing places that seemed far away from Pittsburgh. A few still lifes were also included. Sidney ended with the portrait of John Aidan Brian Kinney.
Joan stood in front of the large painting. She had to admit that she could see something of a young Jack in the features of the man in the painting. There was also a definite resemblance to Brian.
"This is a very interesting painting," Sidney began.
Father Tom tried to signal Sidney not to continue, but the man was so intent on telling his tale that he didn't twig to what Father Tom was trying to tell him.
"We x-rayed all the paintings and this one had a sketch underneath the paint. It was a sketch of Kinney's young lover, Patrick Taylor."
"But I thought you said the artist painted his family in those paintings over there," Joan stated.
"He did, but he also left the States and went to South America and Mexico with his homosexual lover. Here's the x-ray showing the intended painting. Too bad he never painted it."
"I think it's just fine that he never painted it," Joan said haughtily. "He probably realized the error of his ways and decided to paint something more fitting."
"But…" Sidney began unsure how to continue in the face of this woman's disapproval. He wondered why she had come there at all.
"Perhaps you would like to see some of the pieces done by local artists," Father Tom suggested trying to ease the awkward moment.
"Oh no, I don't think so," Joan said cringing at the idea of being exposed to their abominations.
"But Beryl Gardiner will want to know what you thought of her son's work," Father Tom persisted.
"Very well," Joan agreed reluctantly. She hoped she detested the work and could tell Beryl that her son better stick to being a doctor.
"Sidney," a voice said from behind them.
"Morning, Lindsay, you're in early. Do you know Mrs. Kinney?"
"Yes, I do. I haven't seen you for a while."
"What are you doing here, dear?" Joan asked.
"I work here. I helped put together this show."
"Oh my."
"Um … Sidney, I need to speak to you for a moment," Lindsay said.
"Very well. Perhaps Father Tom can show you the work in question. It's over there." Sidney watched as Father Tom led Joan Kinney away. "She's some piece of work," he muttered mostly to himself.
"That's for sure," Lindsay agreed. "What's she doing here?"
"It's a long story, but she is related to Kinney."
"By marriage."
Sidney nodded. "What did you want to speak to me about?"
"Justin's meeting me here. All of his sketches were purchased and he wondered if we could cut him a check today. He needs to buy some books."
"I'm pleased he's gone back to school. That boy has real talent that needs to be developed. Come in the office and we'll get the check ready for him."
"Thanks, Sidney, he should be here in a few minutes."
As Sidney went to the office with Lindsay, Joan was studying the work of Brendan Gardiner. Or rather she was staring in horrified fascination at the semi-abstract works depicting men in various kinds of embraces. Their content might be blurred but the message was clear.
"This … this is disgusting!" Joan exclaimed. "And Beryl said he had sold two pieces. Who would buy such filth?"
"Perhaps men who have experienced this kind of pleasure," Father Tom said softly. He loved the paintings of gay men locked together.
"How can you say such a thing? They're an abomination." Joan looked about frantically and her eyes landed on some sketches of landscapes that caught her attention. "Why couldn't he paint something like that? This artist really knows how to draw."
"They're very good too," Father Tom admitted. "Every artist expresses himself in his own way."
"Not every artist has to show sinful acts," Joan said haughtily, "as this artist clearly knows." Joan peered at the name above the series of sketches. It seemed vaguely familiar.
Father Tom sighed. He didn't know what else to say to this woman. Her hatred and condemnation of anything gay was impossible to overcome.
They both turned as they heard voices near the door. Joan started as she recognized the face of the boy who had been at her son's apartment the day she delivered the chocolate cake. That was the day she had found out about Brian's homosexuality. He had corrupted this boy.
Father Tom began to usher Joan towards the door. He thought it was way past time to get her out of there. As they approached the door, Justin looked up and smiled at Joan.
"We've met, haven't we?" Joan asked. "At Brian's loft?"
"Yes, Mrs. Kinney, I'm Justin Taylor."
"Oh, of course. That's your artwork over there then?"
"Yes."
"And they have all been sold," Lindsay said proudly. "We have your check in the office."
Justin nodded to Brian's mother and followed Lindsay into the office.
"Strange that you should like artwork by Brian's … friend," Father Tom said trying to keep the smirk off his face.
"What makes you think I like it? I merely said the artist knew how to draw and didn't depict depraved scenes. Liking it is out of the question."
"Of course," Father Tom agreed as they made their way out to the street. How could he have possibly thought she liked something done by a homosexual?
As Joan and Father Tom were leaving the gallery, a familiar woman with a little boy in tow was approaching the door.
"Joan, come to view the famous Kinney paintings?" Debbie asked loudly. Gus, who was visiting his 'Grandma Debbie' for the morning was hiding behind Debbie's coat.
"I've seen them," Joan replied in that condescending tone she was infamous for. Spying the boy, Joan had to ask. "And who is this? I didn't know your son married and had children."
Debbie sputtered as she was trying to think of something plausible to say, realizing that Joan didn't know about Gus.
All of a sudden Gus, who saw his mommy and Justin through the gallery windows, burst through the door with a loud, "Mommy!" Debbie followed closely with Joan on her heels.
"This child is your son?" Joan asked with a cold glare to Lindsay.
"Yes, Gus is my son." Lindsay answered with pride in her voice and a smile on her lips.
"Hey, Lambskin, you being good for Debbie?"
"Yes, Mommy."
"And you allow him in the gallery?" Joan's booming voice echoed in the quiet gallery.
"Of course. He's visited lots of times. He loves art," Lindsay answered gently.
"I love to draw, just like Mommy and Justin," Gus said proudly.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, exposing this child to such filth. Naked men and women. It's disgusting. So ungodly!" Joan spat out at Lindsay frightening Gus. He ran into his mother's arms. Lindsay kissed him and whispered comforting words into his little ear then handed him to Justin who held him tightly and away from Joan.
"Mrs. Kinney," Lindsay started. "I'll have you know that the human form is God's greatest creation. And has been celebrated for thousands of years by artists all over the world including myself and Justin. And in one of the most famous churches that ever existed, God is painted in the creation of Adam. A naked Adam. Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel, Mrs. Kinney, that's how ungodly the human form is!"
Joan Kinney was stunned into silence by the power of Lindsay's speech. She turned on her heels and stormed out with poor Father Tom trying to keep up.
Justin, Debbie, Gus and Sidney stared at Lindsay who was visibly shaking at her encounter with Joan. Debbie snapped her out of it with a, "You go girl!" And then gave Lindsay a well deserved hug. When the brouhaha was over, a small voice shattered the quiet.
"Mommy, was that mean lady Daddy's mommy?" All eyes locked on Gus. Lindsay and Justin began to sweat. Debbie started chewing her gum at lightning speed. Sidney said nothing.
Justin, learning that lying usually came back to bite him on the ass, set Gus down then crouched to speak with Gus eye to eye.
"Buddy, yes, that mean lady is your Daddy's mommy. Gus, you know lying is bad, don't you?"
"Yes, Justin."
"And I won't ever ask you to lie but that lady was very mean to your Daddy and to your Aunt Claire. It makes Daddy sad to think about that lady or to talk about her. Do you understand?"
Gus thought a moment and nodded with understanding. He had seen his Daddy sad a couple of times and Gus didn't like it.
"Gus, unless your Daddy says something about Joan, we're not going to mention her. Is that okay with you?"
All the adults held their breath as Gus processed what Justin told him. They watched his little brow crease like Brian's. Then in a mighty Kinney voice, "I won't let her hurt my Daddy! Ever!" They all suppressed a laugh as Gus did his best Brian Kinney death glare.
Justin picked up the boy. "We won't either." Lindsay and Debbie nodded in agreement. Just then Brian entered the gallery.
"Hey Sunshine, what the fuck are you doing in here? I've been circling the block for hours. Hey, Sonny Boy." Gus squirmed out of Justin's arms and flew into his father's to give him a loud sloppy kiss to his cheek. "What's that for, Gus?"
"Cause I love you, Daddy."
"Love you too, Sonny Boy. Come on, we have time before Justin goes to class. Let's go get something to eat. You need a ride to the diner, Deb?"
"Sure," said a very relieved Debbie.
Brian gave Lindsay a kiss and promised to drop Gus off to his play group after they had a late breakfast.
Out on the street while Brian and company were getting into Justin's Cherokee, Father Tom had finally caught up with Joan and was able to ferret her into his car. In her fury, she had walked several blocks and in the wrong direction, heading deeper and deeper onto Liberty Avenue. By the time Father Tom got Joan into his car she was beet red. She had never seen so many same sex couples in her entire miserable life.
After making a number of turns, they were finally heading in the right direction, taking them past the Sidney Bloom gallery once again. Father Tom, paying attention to the road, didn't see what Joan saw, a tall handsome brunet, with an equally handsome blond holding a small child, and a red headed woman getting into a Cherokee.