Joan VS The State of Liberty
Chapter 9
"Brian, aren't you ready yet? The traffic is going to be murder and we have all those cars to lead."
"I'm coming, I'm coming. You gonna lead me around by the balls or should I say ball, all weekend long?"
"Look, everyone is in a funk. Your sister thinks she's going to lose the boys. Debbie thinks she's ruined your family. Claire and John think that any minute someone is going to force them out of their house. And you think you're going to have to come up with 1.8 million dollars to give to Joan. Now we are taking everyone to the Andersons for this weekend and we are going to be thankful for what we do have until it kills us. And we're going to try to have a good time. Do I make myself clear?!"
"As a crystal dick!"
"Fine!"
"Fine! Justin?"
"What?!"
"Do you thing we'll find the will?"
"I printed out the whole journal and we have the copy of the Kinney letters. With all those people in the house, if a copy still exists, we'll find it. But Brian, I am worried about Melanie coming. Are you sure that was a good idea inviting her? She and Lindz, it's still tense."
"I know but she wanted to get more information from Claire and John. And who knows, maybe the farm will work another miracle. Plus Lindsay misses Jenny Rebecca. And Mel misses Gus; it'll be good family time for them. And holy shit, I sound like a lesbian. Let's get out of here, Sunshine."
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Justin was right about everyone being in a funk. Claire and the boys were quiet the whole ride to the farm. Except for a few sniffles and tears, no one said a word. The caravan of cars made it to Claire's within a few hours and after a very subdued hugfest, the sleeping arrangements were all confirmed. Claire and the boys would take the cottage but the boys would camp out in the living room with Gus. They promised Brian to take good care of him and behave. The boys gave up their room to Lindsay and Mel and the baby. Lindz and Mel promised to behave too.
Debbie and Carl took the guest room. Jennifer bunked with Claire. Mikey, Ben and Hunter, along with Emmett and Ted, rearranged the living room and dining room so they could camp out on the floor. John blew up the air mattress for Brian and Justin and they shared John and Bobby's room. It was a very tight fit.
Brian had offered to arrange for motel rooms but everyone wanted to stay close to offer support. The principal players were trying to put up a brave front but it wasn't working. Brian began to sulk.
"Brian?"
"Hmm?"
"Dinner's ready. Come in and sit down."
"Claire, I'm not..."
"We all cooked and it looks wonderful. You will sit and eat with us." Claire Anderson would not take no, for an answer.
"Yes, ma'am." Brian got up from the stairs in the hall and joined the family for dinner. Claire had him sit at one end of the table while John sat at the head of the table. Jack's boys would lead the family's first Thanksgiving dinner. John stood up to address the family.
"I realize that this isn't exactly how we wanted to spend Thanksgiving. I thought we'd get together but I had imagined it would be a lot noisier. I guess none of us are in the partying mood. But I think we all have to agree that we do have a lot to be thankful for. I know I'm very thankful that I have a wonderfully kind and understanding mother. I found a brother and through him, a whole new life and extended family. And I found my soul mate. So even if it all goes down the tubes tomorrow, I am very grateful for what I have."
The whole room was quiet for a moment, then one by one each of the family shared why they were thankful.
The younger Claire tried to express her thanks to Claire and to Brian for embracing her and her boys and giving them the chance to learn how to be a real family but the thought of the boys leaving her made the words difficult to say. She thanked her sons for sticking with her and she promised to keep them all together.
When it came turn for Brian to say his piece, he couldn't. He was too wracked with guilt. Justin reached for his arm and gently rubbed it. Brian stood up and faced his family.
"I have a lot to be thankful for, so much that I can't list it all. I am very thankful to each and everyone in this room, even you, Theodore." The mood lightened a little and a few people chuckled. "I'm even thankful for my bratty nephews and before you say it Johnny, I am still a fag." Brian and his nephew stuck their tongues out at each other. "I am very thankful to Gus and Lindsay for letting me into their lives."
"You're welcome, Daddy!" Gus said proudly.
"And I guess I am the most thankful for a certain blond, annoyingly tenacious, twink twat, who came in under the wire and never left. So, before I thoroughly embarrass myself by sounding even more like a lesbian, let's eat. And Happy Thanksgiving to everyone."
"Happy Thanksgiving!" The family answered back and then they started to pass around the dishes.
The mood was definitely picking up as they passed around the carved slices of turkey and all the fixings. The whole family had pitched in with the cooking and the meal looked and smelled heavenly.
Halfway through dinner, a cell phone started to ring and everyone reached for their phones.
"Sorry, it's mine. Damn, I missed it. I still don't know how to work this thing," the younger Claire stated, looking slightly embarrassed.
"Mommy, since when do you have a cell phone?" Peter asked.
"Since your Uncle Brian insisted that I carry one of these things and he programmed in all of his numbers and your school number and Karen's number. But I still don't know how to get my messages," Claire answered and handed the phone over to Brian. Brian punched in the access code and then the simple password he had set up for Claire. Then he handed the phone back to Claire for her to listen.
Claire listened carefully then burst out in tears, sobbing into her napkin. Brian jumped up and ran to her side.
"What is it?"
"That was Ms. Renforth, you know, the investigator. I gave her my number just in case. She called to say that she'll be turning in her report on Monday. But she wanted me, us, to know that she was recommending that we, us, me and the boys stay together. She sees no reason to break us up!"
The boys whooped and hollered. And the family cheered. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things but a victory none-the-less and something worth giving thanks for. Appetites were increasing and more food was passed around the table.
Since no one was in a rush for dessert. The family pitched in to help with the clean up. Bobby volunteered to read more of the journal as well as several other members of the family. They were each struck by how eloquently Kinney wrote and by his love for Patrick. Bobby had to put down the pages and wipe the tears out of his eyes several times.
"Watch it Bobby, Justin's allergies are very contagious," Brian warned.
The aroma of fresh brewed coffee filled the air. Claire, Debbie and Jennifer set up the dining room table as a dessert buffet so that everyone could help themselves. Brian watched Justin and Hunter vie for slabs of Debbie's apple pie as the younger children went for the elder Claire's cookies. Brian poured himself a mug of coffee and went to sit on the stairs in the hall. He leaned back and stared at the remaining Kinney paintings that were hanging on the wall. The painting of the mansion completed the painting of the farmhouse as they hung side by side. It kind of reminded him of himself and Justin.
Most would think that Brian would be the mansion and Justin the farmhouse. Brian knew it was the opposite. While Justin didn't grow up rich, he did grow up with the elite side of Pittsburgh. Brian grew up in the slums. It was his need to better himself and to get away from Jack and Joan that made him work like a dog to become financially well off.
Justin found him there, still staring at the paintings.
"Brian, what are you doing out here by yourself?"
"Just needed a little quiet. They look good together."
"What looks good together?"
"The paintings, the mansion and the farmhouse. Different but they belong together."
"Like us?"
"Yeah. Justin, did Sidney Bloom clean the painting of the mansion?"
"No, I didn't ask him. He was busy with the paintings that Claire had originally given him to appraise so I didn't want to bother him. Besides, I had a friend from PIFA do it. He's learning to be a conservator so he did it for the expense and I bought him some supplies. Why?"
"I'm not sure. Did he take it out of the frame?"
"I don't think so. He said it really was in pretty good shape. It was very dusty and dirty with nicotine but it cleaned up pretty easy."
"Huh. Justin read it to me again, the part about Patrick and Martha. What they meant to Kinney."
"Okay...'My dearest wife, I wish I had the power of words to explain what you mean to me and the part that Patrick plays in my life. You are my heart and he is my soul.'"
"Justin, I think that's it."
"What's it?"
"Kinney's heart. Martha was his heart."
"Yeah, so."
"Don't you know?"
"Know what?"
"Home is where the heart is!" Brian got up and went to the wall. He took the painting of the mansion down and brought it into the dining room.
"Hey, I need help. Clear me a space."
"Brian, what the hell are you doing?" Debbie asked.
"Saving our asses, I hope. Hey big bro, do have something to pry off these fasteners?"
"Coming right up." John took out a pair of pliers and joined Brian at the table. He gently removed a few of the old nails that held the backing to the frame. John gingerly pried the backing up while Brian slipped his fingers under.
"Well?" Justin asked bouncing on his toes.
"Hold on, I think, yes!" Brian removed a thick packet of parchment wrapped by a leather cord.
The whole family held their collective breaths as Brian turned the packet over to Mel.
She quickly got her glasses and carefully untied the cord.
"This is it. It's the will. That fuckin' Kinney luck."
"Stop telling me how lucky I am and read the damn thing. Does it say what Kinney wrote in his journal?" Brian snarked.
"This isn't easy to read, Asshole." Mel snarked right back.
"Melanie!" Debbie and Lindsay admonished. There were too many young ears about.
Mel shrugged and began to scan the contents of the will.
"I, John Aidan Brian Kinney, being of sound mind....yada, yada, yada...hereby bequeath, yada, yada, yada."
"Melanie!" This time the whole family shouted at her.
"What?"
"Mel, enough with the yadas. Get to the good stuff." John impatiently requested.
Melanie sat near a lamp and flipped through the pages of the will.
"Here it is....'My house, my lands, outbuildings and property here within as set forth by the surveyor in the sovereign state of Pennsylvania shall henceforth be settled upon the first born legitimate male heir of my line. From father to son. In the event that no male heir is produced, the aforementioned estate will be held in trust for the next nearest male heir and entailed upon him. The earnings from the estate will be stipend to my wife Martha until my son attains majority. An annual annuity shall be paid to her and to our daughter Martha until their deaths. In time of hardship or if it comes to pass that the male heir does not desire to live upon the lands, he may entrust this estate to another male heir.' Wow."
"Wow? That's all you can say is wow?" Justin stated. "What the hell does all that gobbledygook mean?"
"It means I fucked up again." Brian said softly.
"How? You're the first born legitimate male heir. Joan can't touch it."
"But I signed the deed over to Claire. I broke the stipulations of the will. I didn't know it had to go to a male heir."
"Brian, you didn't break the will," Claire said gently.
"What do you mean?" John and Brian said in unison.
"When I had the lawyer draw up the new deed I put your name on it, Jackie. I'm not getting any younger. I had to make sure that if anything happened to me, the house and the land and the farm would be looked after. You're my son. Do you really think I could leave you out?"
"Oh mother!" John cried and hugged his mother. Brian felt drained and he slumped onto the sofa.
Melanie coughed and began to speak in her attorney voice. "Claire I will need a copy of your new deed and the old one if you have it. With this and the deeds, I don't think old Joan will stand a snowball's chance in hell in court."
A new more emotional hugfest ensued and a fresh pot of coffee was put on the stove. All of a sudden everyone got hungry again.
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Joan heaved a huge sigh as she took off her coat. She opened the oven door and looked at the almost cooked turkey breast. She would put the potatoes and carrots on in a minute. But first she needed a drink
With her whiskey bottle safely in hand she sat down at the kitchen table. She had just returned from Claire's house. She had waited all day for her daughter to relent and call her for Thanksgiving dinner. No word had come. Finally Joan had decided to call. There had been no answer. She couldn't help but wonder if they all were there just refusing to answer the phone because it was her. So she had got in the car and driven over there. There was no sign of anyone at the house. She had wondered where Claire could be.
Giving in to her need to know she had driven to the loft and tried to get in. No one answered the buzzer so she had waited for someone to enter the building and had caught the door before it closed. At Brian's loft no one answered the door, but she had listened and all had been silence. Where were her children on such an important day?
Then it had dawned on her. She had driven to Debbie Novotny's house. She knew she still lived in the same place. The last time she had been there was almost twenty years ago, another time that she had been trying to find Brian. But no one was home there either. So she had returned to her own house.
She took another drink and stared off into space. The house was so silent like it always was these days, like it had been ever since Jack died. A stray tear rolled down her face. She hardened her heart and swiped it away.
Next year would be different. She would have the boys and that would make all the difference. And the money, of course.
She took another drink to fortify herself. She wondered where everyone could be. They would likely be together, but where? She couldn't imagine where they had got to, and then an unconscionable thought occurred to her. What if they were all together with those Anderson people? They had been very chummy at the gallery. She knew they had a farm, soon to be her farm, somewhere near Harrisburg. The lawyer had told her that.
That must be it. They had all gone to the farm to spend Thanksgiving there. They had chosen this Claire Anderson over her. They were all there having a good time and probably laughing at her. Well, they would pay for that. They would pay.
She took a large drink. How could they do that? She glared at the stove. It smelled like the turkey breast needed some water added. Maybe in a minute after she drank this glass. Maybe she would just drink her Thanksgiving dinner and leave it at that. Nobody cared what she did.
But soon they would all pay!