Joan VS The State of Liberty
Chapter 10
Joan's eyelids fluttered. Some annoying noise was forcing her to wake up. What was wrong? She tried to raise her head but it was so heavy. She flung her arm out and heard something rattle around and then fall with a crash to the floor. She forced her eyes open and heard the insistent beeping growing louder as she woke up. With extreme effort she forced her head up. She could smell smoke.
Where was she? She managed to focus enough to look around. She was at the kitchen table and the smoke was coming from the oven. It must be the turkey. She had fallen asleep and the turkey was burning. She heaved herself up from the table and stumbled towards the stove. The dials swam in front of her eyes and she grasped at the handle to the oven to keep from falling. She could feel the heat. Her hand reached out and turned the dial. She was pretty sure that she had turned off the oven. She reached up and opened the window above the sink. That would get rid of the smoke.
She turned on the tap in the sink and splashed some water on her face. That was better. She stood up straight. The amount of smoke coming from the oven seemed to be lessening. Now she needed to stop that incessant beeping. She felt a little steadier since the water on her face. She reached for the broom that leaned in the corner and using the handle as a prod she tried to jab the smoke detector that was making that awful beeping sound. After several tries the noise ceased.
When the beeping stopped she breathed a sigh of relief. One thing down and several more to take care of. It was dark in the kitchen except for the light over the stove. She flicked the light switch and saw the pieces of the glass that she had knocked off the table. She used the broom to sweep them into the corner where she kept the broom. She'd put them in the trash later.
She debated taking the turkey breast out of the oven but knew that would spread more smoke around. Now that the stove was turned off it could cool down in there. She'd worry about it tomorrow.
The clock on the back of the stove read 9:42. She must have fallen asleep a long time ago. She looked at the table and saw that she still had almost a third of the bottle of whiskey left. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard, the bottle from the table, and carefully made her way upstairs. Bed seemed like the best place to be. She wasn't hungry and another drink before she fell asleep would hit the spot.
"So much for Thanksgiving!" she muttered as she climbed into the bed.
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Brian and Justin lay in their sleeping bags on the floor of John's room. John and Bobby were already asleep as far as they could tell. Both couples had enjoyed a Thanksgiving fuck.
"Aren't you asleep yet?" Brian asked in the darkness.
"No," Justin replied.
"What's wrong?"
"I was thinking."
"Oh oh!"
"Briiiaaan."
"Sorry, Sunshine, what were you thinking about? Please tell me."
"If you're going to be like that, forget it."
"Don't get huffy," Brian whispered.
"I am not huffy."
"Then tell me what you're thinking about."
"I was thinking about the will. You were so clever to think of the heart and soul thing. We would never have found it otherwise."
"I am clever, aren't I?" Brian teased.
"Asshole! But yes you are."
"Is that it?"
"What if we hadn't found it?"
"I … I don't want to think about that."
"That's what I mean. Everything would be so screwed up without that will."
"Courtesy of dear old mom."
"I wonder what she did for Thanksgiving. Claire said she always used to spend it at her house. I wonder if she was all alone."
"I hope she was. That's what she deserves."
"Nobody deserves to be alone, not even you."
"I used to think I did, thanks to the excellent training in worthlessness a la Jack and Joan Kinney. And then you came along."
"I wonder what would happen if Joan met someone who liked her and thought she was worth something."
"Like a new beau?"
"Something like that. Or a friend. I wonder what Joan would think of Claire Anderson."
"Christ, Justin, don't wish that on Claire."
"I know, I know, but Claire has worked her magic on all of us. I just wondered…"
"Would you tell the gerbil in that head of yours that it's time for a rest?"
"I'll try but he isn't very well trained."
"And don't I know it."
"Sorry."
"Come here," Brian said softly.
Justin rolled against him. His arms closed around the most important person in his life. Their even breathing soothed each other and soon they were asleep locked in each others' arms.
"Thank God," John said.
"They sure talk a lot," Bobby observed.
"Yeah. Come here," John said and Bobby slid into his partner's embrace. Now they could sleep too. "Happy Thanksgiving," John whispered. Bobby grunted as he fell into a deep sleep.
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Not having anywhere to be, the whole family took advantage of the holiday and slept late on Friday. One by one they each got up and began to help Claire, who was the first up, with breakfast. The day promised to be crisp but the sky was clear and the sunshine remained strong. After breakfast, the clan broke up into smaller groups to leisurely spend the day.
The last to make an appearance were John, Brian and their partners. The air mattress that Brian and Justin were sleeping on proved to be very comfortable and they were unwilling to leave it. Around 10 AM Brian and John had been awakened by certain young men making a meal of them, enjoying a high protein breakfast. After Justin and Bobby were finished dining, John and Brian had repaid the favor. The brothers relaxed, snuggling in the warm blankets with their warm partners.
"Mmm, Sunshine, that's the best way to wake up in the morning," Brian whispered into Justin's hair.
"I agree," John confirmed from atop his bed. "I guess we should join the others."
"I guess so, but I'd rather stay here for a while longer," Bobby commented.
"Brian, what happens now?" Justin asked.
"With what?"
"The lawsuits."
"We leave that to Melanie. First, we wait for Claire's appointment with the court. It'll probably take time for the investigator to file her report and for Claire to get the official ruling. Then I imagine Melanie will do her thing with the wills and the deeds. I just hope this will all be cleared up by Christmas. You know how I hate holidays; I don't think I can take another tense holiday. Not like this one."
"Brian, you weren't the only one that was tense."
"I realize that, Justin. It was hell for Claire and the boys. And I won't mention how John and his mother must have felt when they thought they were going to lose the farm. Now we stand a fighting chance against Joan. I can't help feel responsible for all of this."
"Bri, how are you responsible? If you ask me, it's Joan who's responsible for all of this. I just can't believe she put you all through it."
"I can, Sunshine. She's a vindictive old woman and she's made a lot of people suffer."
"Including you."
"Yeah. Let's not talk about Joan anymore. I'd rather have a second helping of my favorite breakfast."
"And what might that be?"
"Sunshine."
"And how would you like that served?"
"Au naturel," Brian helped himself to a little taste of Sunshine.
"I thought those two would never shut up," Bobby complained.
"They do seem to talk a lot when they're in bed."
"Maybe it's foreplay."
"Could be. Bobby?"
"Hmm?"
"Mind if I, uh, you know."
"Help yourself."
"Oh yeah."
By the time anyone saw John, Brian, Bobby and Justin it was time for lunch.
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On Saturday, the Liberty Avenue contingent had packed up and said their goodbyes to Claire and John. Melanie especially wanted to get back so she could begin to prepare her countersuits. Only Brian and Justin remained with the Andersons. They spent the remainder of the holiday counting their blessings and appreciating the quiet.
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Even though things were looking up for the Kinney family, the tension didn't completely dissipate. Apparently the judge who was to receive the findings from Ms. Renforth had developed a Thanksgiving bug. For two weeks Brian suffered through Claire's constant phone calls. Everywhere he went he was met with a message or voicemail. He was beginning to regret giving her that cell phone. Brian began to screen his calls. He didn't want to say anything foolish and how many times could he tell Claire that everything would be all right. His relationship with Claire and her boys had never been better; he didn't want to ruin that. He avoided her calls as much as possible.
His private line rang again and this time he decided to pick it up.
"Claire! I'm really busy..."
"Brian! Brian, I know and I'm sorry I've been bugging you but I had to call and let you know. It's all over."
"What's all over?"
"Mother's petition. It's over. Done. No one is taking away the boys."
"How? I thought the judge was out sick."
"He was, still is. Ms. Renforth asked for another judge. She thought it was so unfair that we had to wait until the judge came back. She knew the ruling would be in our favor so she insisted that the case be assigned to another judge. The new judge read the report and the depositions from Karen and Steve and Bill and from the boys' school. She said she found nothing that would indicate that there was anything wrong with how the boys were being raised. In fact, she praised us because we asked for help before things really got out of hand.
"Brian, Mother was there. She was devastated and angry. I thought she was going to explode. I've never seen her that angry. She started to scream at the judge, saying that you were going to lead the boys to sin. I was ready to yell back but Melanie stopped me. The judge told mother that families come in all shapes, sizes and sexual orientations. She said that the boys weren't hurt by their exposure to your lifestyle, just the opposite, they were learning tolerance and acceptance and that was a very valuable lesson. She hoped that mother would learn it too.
"Brian, thank you."
"Thank me? Why?"
"Because, I'm learning too. I missed having a brother for all those years. We could have had fun together, been a real family together. I'm sorry I let mom and dad get in our way. I've never been so happy in my whole life since you and your crazy family became my family. Thank you."
"Claire, don't start crying again. Shit, Justin really knows how to spread his allergies around." Just then Justin walked into Brian's office and stuck his tongue out at Brian.
"Look, I'll wrap things up early. You get your spawn ready and we'll take you to dinner. Some place nice, so make sure those brats wash behind their ears. Okay?"
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"Later, Claire."
"Bye."
"How much did you hear?"
"Not much. Only about dinner and my allergies. What's up?"
Brian got up from his desk and swept Justin off his feet, swinging him around the office.
"It's over, at least with the petition against Claire. The investigator made the court reassign the case to another judge. Case closed. The spawn and my sister are safe. And I feel like celebrating."
"Brian! That's the best news I've heard in a long time. Things are looking up."
"That's not the only thing that's up around here."
"So, let's go home and we can take care of those things before we pick up Claire and the boys."
"Now that sounds like a very good plan to me!"
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"Fucking two bit shyster!" Melanie cursed as she slammed down the phone.
"What happened?" Lindsay asked. The farm had worked another minor miracle; Lindsay and Melanie were spending time together. It was by no means perfect but they were beginning to find out why they had fallen in love in the first place.
"That so-called lawyer Joan Kinney hired. He's been avoiding my calls. He's either out of town or with a client. I think he senses that he's going to lose so he's spending Joan's money before he earns it. I know him. He's unreliable, he promises you anything, then when he loses he hits the client with a big fee claiming expenses. Joan Kinney is in for a big surprise."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I'll give him two more days to get back to me. If I don't hear from him, I'll serve him and Joan with a countersuit. That will get his attention."
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Joan Kinney sat in the waiting room of Seymour Gottlieb's office. She had been waiting for almost an hour. He had never made her wait like this before. It was definitely not a good sign.
This had been about the worst couple of weeks of her life. After Thanksgiving, in fact including Thanksgiving, everything had been a horrible mess. Her family had disappeared on Thanksgiving Day leaving her all alone. She had drunk too much, she could admit that, but it was to hide the huge loneliness that surrounded her. Then she had fallen asleep and burned the turkey. It was so badly burnt in fact that she had had to throw away her favorite roasting pan. There was no saving it.
And then she had been summoned to court to hear the findings of the investigator in her custody case against Claire. She had been totally humiliated by the whole fiasco. She had had such high hopes. She knew she could straighten those boys out. They needed a strong hand and some moral fiber in their lives. Instead she had had to sit there and listen to what Ms Renforth had reported about all the good things Claire was doing to improve the lives of her boys. She heard reports from people she had never heard of saying they had helped the boys and that the family seemed to be on the right track. And there wasn't one word, not one, about all the things she wanted to do for her grandsons.
And that stupid feminist judge had the nerve to say that being around Brian, her openly homosexual son, would be good for the boys. It would make them more tolerant or some such drivel. She knew that it would simply lead them into a life of depravity. And she was forced to sit there and listen to it all.
But she had told them at the end! Even though they wouldn't allow her to be on the stand and speak her piece, she had told them. In no uncertain terms, she had told them. When the judge had dismissed her petition she had stood proudly in that court and told the judge that she had made a horrible mistake. She had said that the judge was condemning those boys to a life of sin and godlessness. She knew she had begun shouting soon after she started speaking but she couldn't stop herself. It had all come pouring out.
Pouring out, until the bailiff had grabbed her arm and practically dragged her from the courtroom. She had tried to resist but he was too strong. He even told her, after she calmed down a little, that if he hadn't taken her out of the courtroom, the judge would have charged her with contempt. She had replied that she held nothing but contempt for a court that could make such a ruling.
When she had calmed down enough, the bailiff said she could go home. Claire had not even come to see if she was all right. Her only family didn't care a whit about what happened to her. She shook her head at the thought. But if she got the money from the paintings they would have to show her some respect.
She glanced nervously towards the door leading into Seymour Gottlieb's office. This did not bode well that he was keeping her waiting so long. She had to win her suit for that money. She just had to.
"Mrs. Kinney, Mr. Gottlieb will see you now," the secretary said.
She stood and smoothed the front of her skirt. "About time," she muttered as she went to his door. She realized that no one had come out. Had he deliberately made her wait all that time for nothing? Her heart beat a little faster as she turned the knob. This was not an auspicious beginning.
"Come in, Mrs. Kinney," Mr. Gottlieb said. He appeared to be reading some document and didn't bother to stand. "Have a seat."
She sat in the usual chair while her stomach did somersaults. This was not going well. "Do … do you have some news for me?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid I do."
"Afraid?" Joan asked. This was definitely not good.
"I spoke to the lawyer representing your son in the matter of the paintings."
"And?" Joan asked narrowing her eyes. Mention of Brian often caused her to do that.
"Some new documents have come to light."
"What? What documents?" Joan asked feeling the world start to spin out of control. Dread washed over her.
"It seems that John Aidan Brian Kinney, the artist and original owner of the farm, left a will which has just come to light."
"What does that have to do with my lawsuit?"
"In some ways it supersedes your will."
"How is that possible?"
"The will states that the farm is to go to the first male heir, so that would make Brian the legal owner."
"But he turned it over to that John Anderson person and his mother."
"Correct. But in a sense John Anderson is actually Jack's first male offspring."
Joan made a face. "But Jack left everything to me," Joan protested.
"Everything except that book which contained the deed to the farm. Jack clearly wanted the farm to go to Brian. It is still technically in the family but legally I would have to say the Andersons own it."
"That can't be," Joan gasped. "And the paintings?'
"They were found on the farm. I can't see any way to claim them for you."
"No," Joan moaned. "This can't be so. I … I was counting on those paintings."
'So was I,' Seymour thought. "I'm afraid we don't have a leg to stand on."
"That can't be true. Surely there must be something else you can do."
"I could try some things, but I think they would be pointless and would only add to your already rather substantial bill."
"Bill?" Joan repeated. She hadn't even thought about how much all this was costing. She had counted on getting the money from the paintings to pay for everything.
"I think we've reached the end of the line, so if you'll excuse me…"
Joan stood feeling very shaky all of a sudden. She knew she should leave but she wasn't sure where the door was anymore. She felt Seymour take her arm and direct her steps. He gently shoved her out the door.
"My secretary has your account all tallied," he said as he shut the door behind her.
Joan swallowed and stood staring at the empty office. What was she going to do?
"Mrs. Kinney," the secretary said. "Here's the tabulation of your account. Would you like to settle it now?"
Joan took the paper the secretary handed her. There were several lines, but the figure at the bottom caught her attention. It read $6475.00. She gasped.
"I'll mail it to you," she said hastily folding it and stuffing it in her purse.
She walked out of the office wondering where on earth she was going to get that amount of money.