Homework

Chapter 13:  Realities and Realizations
 

Justin

I arranged to have the painting shipped to Dan.

It's not a big one. But … I wanted him to have it, and to have it soon. I paid a small fortune to have it sent as fast as possible. (Seriously, I could almost have bought an air fare and taken it myself!) I don't know why I feel such a sense of urgency about it, I just do.

I hope he likes it. It's more photo-realism than I usually go for in my paintings, but that seemed appropriate for this one. I used a couple of the photos that Dan left for us with all the house documents. It's of him and Billy, kind of from the top part of the garden, looking down and out across the river. I hope it doesn't upset him. I hope it brings happy memories.

I am so grateful to him, and to Billy who we never met, but I really feel like I know somehow. They created this beautiful house and then Dan kept it for us … refusing to just sell it and be done with it, like he must have sometimes wanted to do … until we came along.

Sometimes it feels like they're still there … especially Billy. I hope he's okay with us living in the house and making all the changes. I hope, wherever he is that he's not too lonely without Dan. I know if I die before Brian, my … soul, my spirit, whatever, will be lonely for him till we can be together again. I truly believe that.

After that's done, I do a little more work on the second of the Warhol paintings. That's nearly finished now. Which is huge. I'm going to try to meet with the curator of the exhibition next week to show the two paintings to him and if he likes either of them and is happy to have it as my submission for the exhibition, then I can stop worrying about those and focus on the stuff for New York in October.

Then I call Brian to see how he's doing.

He told me on the way to pick up the 'Vette this morning that things at Kinnetik yesterday had pretty much been a major clusterfuck, so if he's still trying to sort things out, I want to let him know that we can swap Gus days this week. I can collect him today and Brian tomorrow. He sounds really stressed when he picks up the phone, and I'm about to make the offer when he says, "Sunshine, you know I don't want to interfere with your work, but …"

I almost laugh. Sometimes we are totally on the same page even when we think we're not.

"It's okay," I tell him. "I'm almost finished the second Warhol painting, and I can't do anything more till this paint dries. I could pick up Gus today if you want."

He gives a kind of snort and says, "That would be great, but it's not why I'm calling."'

"Oh, okay."

There's a kind of pause and then he says, "The Center rang today. They've okayed Lindsay to have a couple of phone calls. She's already spoken to her parents and now she wants to talk to … us. About Gus."

The pause before the "us" is infinitesimal, but I guess I'd been listening for it. She doesn't want to talk to "us', she wants to talk to Brian. But we've already agreed that that's a bad idea and I'm really relieved that he's sticking to that.

"Sure," I tell him. "I can do that from here before I pick up Gus from school."

"Smart boy," is his only comment, but I know he's thinking, like I am, that if I do that, Lindsay has no chance to guilt me into putting Gus on the phone. Until we have a much better idea where her head's at. I've no intention of letting her anywhere near Gus, and I guess Brian hasn't either.

I know he's stressed, and I don't want to add to it, but I had an idea this morning, and while I'm at the school seems a good time to check it out.

"Brian …"

"Oh, fuck, what now?"

Like just the way I say his name tells him I want him to do something he's not going to want to do. Well, I guess it does. I can tell a lot by how he says my name too. Or even what name he uses.

I decide to just lay it out there. Dicking around never helps anything with Brian, it just pisses him off; something I learned the hard way.

"I think it would be good if we invited a couple of Gus's friends from school over on the Monday after our party."

It's a holiday. It's not long before school breaks up for the summer. It's a good time to do it if we ever do.

I can hear the wheels turning in his head though, so I go on with the rest of my idea. "I thought maybe I could make an appointment with the principal and see what she thinks, and who she thinks it might be okay to invite."

After meeting her, I feel like she'll know if there are any raging homophobes among the parents; and she might even have an idea of the ones that would just be "uncomfortable". (The ones Brian says hate us just as much, only behind our backs.)

He grunts, but I go on … "It's Gus's house too, and it's important that he feels like it is, like he can have friends over like all the other kids do."

Brian sighs, but that argument pretty much puts paid to any thought of him vetoing the idea, just like I knew it would.

"You'd better tell Emmett to organize some extra food," he says.

"It'll be fine," I tell him. "I'm not talking about a full-on party. Just two or three kids and maybe their parents for a few hours in the afternoon."

He sighs again. Poor put-upon Brian.

He'll give his art department Hell this afternoon. Maybe I should send them some donuts or something to make it up to them.

 

*****
 

Brian

I have no fucking idea why I feel better when I get off the phone with the little twat. He's just guilted me into inviting a bunch of screaming kids and their probably homophobic fucking parents to our house, our fucking home.

But …

He's onto it. He's got it all figured out already to speak to the Principal and make sure that Gus won't be upset or embarrassed by asking the wrong kids – or the kids with the wrong parents.

And he's going to deal with Lindsay.

That one is such a relief it leaves me almost breathless.

So does the fact that I trust him to do it.

I sit for a moment thinking about that.

I'm not sure how I got to the point where I have people I feel like I can trust all around me.

At work there's Cynthia, and, God help me, Theodore.

I know that even if I have to drop everything to deal with some damned emergency that they will more than pick up the slack. They've demonstrated that over and over again in the past few years.

At home, I have him. The blond one. Sweet little Justin who is like a fucking Rottweiler if he thinks anything is threatening me … or Gus.

And on the fringes, there's Emmett.

Well, not really even on the fringes, anymore.

He and Ted have both shown themselves to be pretty fucking loyal friends at the times when it really counted.

And of course there's Daphne, who totally saved the whole fucking ship last night.

And as if all that's not enough, there's Jennifer, who has really come through for us a few times.

It's fucking amazing. I can't remember ever having that before.

I mean … I could trust Michael to be there for me, sure. On his terms.

But it's not like that with Ted and Emmett. Or Daphne. Or Jenn.

None of them have fucking agendas that I have to tiptoe round. Jenn and Daphne's only agenda is that they want Justin to be happy. I can live with that. I'd rather like it myself. What's fucking amazing, is that they both seem convinced he can be happy with me. In fact, they both seem to think that being with me makes him happy. How the fuck did that happen?

I'm pulled out of these lesbionic meanderings by the phone ringing.

Braced for more dramas, I don't immediately take in what my assistant is telling me.

Too early to say whether this one is going to lead to dramas, but if it does they'll be financially profitable ones.

Apparently she has a potential new client on the line – Liberty Air no less. Seems like they've finally written off Vanguard as a bad joke and are looking for someone who can help them through some troubled times in the airline industry.

I'm tempted to tell her that I'm not available at the moment and I'll call them back, but that would not be a smart move at this stage.

So I get on the line all "hi's" and "how've you been?'s" like they didn't totally block me from making any sort of contact with them when I was trying to get Kinnetik off the ground.

If glad-handing them provides the opportunity to stick a knife a little bit deeper into Vance, who am I to turn my back on that chance?

Bad enough to lose a client.

But he must totally choke on every client he loses to us, to me.

And I guess I am the total asshole most people think me to be because that thought makes me smile all over.

 

*****
 

Justin

I'm not really looking forward to talking to Lindsay, but it's better to get it over with. I call the number Brian gave me and ask to speak to the nurse in charge. I introduce myself, and tell her that we'd been advised that Lindsay could take calls. She asks a few questions about exactly who I am, but once I explain that my partner is the father of Lindsay's child, and that Gus is living with us at the moment, she says that she'd expected "the father" to call himself. I explain that he's very busy at the moment, and that we're partners and that I'm also a longtime friend of Lindsay's. I tell her (well, it's absolute truth after all) that I'd gone with Brian to visit her in the hospital the night Gus was born. Eventually she checks some kind of permitted contact sheet and I'm on there, so she fetches Linds to the phone.

She sounds really shaky, but to my surprise she doesn't get upset when she realizes it's not Brian. In fact, she sounds genuinely glad to speak to me.

"I know I've really messed up," she says. "I don't blame Brian for not wanting to talk to me right now. I know I've got a lot of fences to mend and a long way to go before any of you are really going to feel like you can trust me again."

There's a pause, and she says, very quiet and sad, "I've got a way to go before I'll be ready to trust myself."

I tell her that we all want to help her; which is true.

She thanks me, and then says, "I'm so glad … I'm so glad Gus is with you. You and Brian. He must be loving spending time with you two."

I tell her that Gus seems happy, although he asks about her.

"We tell him that you've been sick and you'll be seeing him as soon as you're better," I say.

"Thank you, Justin. I … in my head so many things got mixed up, you know? And all I could think was how easy it would be if Brian would just …"

I wait for the end of that sentence, kind of wondering exactly what she'll say.

Easier if Brian would marry her?

Live with her?

Was straight?

Would look after her?

That last one is probably the one that underlies all the rest, I guess.

The only time since I've known them that Lindsay wasn't kind of all over Brian's business, was when he was completely broke, after the Stockwell thing.

Then she almost didn't want to know him; we hardly saw her at all around that time.

Of course, as it turned out, that didn't last long and by the time he had Kinnetik up and running things were back to normal and she was constantly dropping by again.

She gives a strange little laugh … "I think I wanted him to be Melanie. Or Mel to be Brian. No wonder she finally gave up on me."

I don't reply to that. What could I say?

She gives a little kind of gasp and says, "Well, there's no point in going over all that with you. I'm sure you know that I wanted your partner in all kinds of really inappropriate ways. I wish I could tell you that I was totally past that, but … I'm not. Not yet, I don't think. So it probably is good if I don't talk to Brian for a while.

"But I am trying, Justin. I want you to know that. Now that those drugs are out of my system, and I've been forced to face some facts, I can see how awful my behavior has been and I am trying. I hope one day both you and Brian will be able to forgive me."

There's a long pause while I try to think of something comforting that's not total bullshit, and she goes on "I hope Gus can forgive me."

"Lindsay, we would never …" I bite my lip, then I go on with what I started to say. "Brian isn't Melanie. He would never belittle you, or even criticize you in front of Gus. Neither would I."

There's an even longer pause this time and then she says, "Thank you, Justin."

"Linds, we really do only want to help."

"I know. You're doing that just by being there for Gus. It's thanks to you that he hasn't got completely screwed up by all this. I will never be able to show you how much that means to me. At least I haven't totally fucked up my son. And that's only thanks to you and Brian."

Before I can respond to that she says, "I have to go now. Please thank Brian for me and give my love to Gus. Tell him his Mommy is getting better and she hopes she'll be able to see him soon."

"I will," I tell her.

"Thank you, Justin," she says again. And hangs up.

Leaving me wondering how much of that was real and how much was Linds back in control and playing her usual manipulation games.

She sounded genuine, but I guess only time will tell. I hate thinking like that, but … it's self-preservation where people like Lindsay are concerned. I've learned that the hard way.

 

*****
 

Brian

On his way to the school he calls and gives me a rundown of the conversation with Lindsay.

It sounds like she's getting her shit together, but who the fuck knows?

I guess we'll see.

Meanwhile, I share the news about Liberty Air and he gives a little whoop. He sounds like a five year old, but he knows how much it means to me to pull clients from Vance. Especially when they come to me.

He's pulling up at the school when I tell him, "Make Gus's little shindig for the Sunday. That way we can get all the party shit out the way and relax on the Monday. Maybe even take the boat out."

Then I go back to terrorizing the art department till Cynthia tells me she'll put laxative in my next cup of Starbucks if I don't leave them alone to get on with their work.

So I just pull aside the intern who had the idea yesterday about the font, and take her to the conference room to go over all the boards that we've prepared for a small pitch tomorrow. I get her to tell me everything she thinks is right with them and what could be improved. At the start the girl's practically hyper-ventilating, but she gets over that and makes some reasonable comments. She's wrong about the improvements, but I can see where she's coming from, so I go through all the reasons that we didn't go that way. She seems to get it and she's almost pathetically grateful to me for taking the time to explain.

Then I pack her off back to her drawing table and call Theodore and tell him to flag her and to make sure we have an offer on the table for her to extend her internship over the summer. Turns out she's a PIFA student. Figures. She reminds me a lot of a PIFA intern we had at Vanguard. I want to keep track of her because if she's going to move into this field professionally I don't want her working for the opposition. I'd prefer to groom her to move right into our art department full time as soon as she graduates.

What's the point of an intern program if you don't use it to spot possible talent that's worth keeping around?

That done, I realize that after yesterday's dramas everything actually seems to be back under control, so I decide to give myself an early mark and go home and spend time with my Sonnyboys.

If the rain holds off we might even take the boat out.

I can do my homework checking out all the latest Liberty Air data tonight after Gus is in bed.

I love being the boss.

 

*****
 

Justin

I'd called earlier and set up a meeting with the Principal. When I arrive, Gus's teacher is there as well. I'd explained when I called that I wanted advice on who it would be appropriate to invite to our house, so we get right down to it.

"Gus has made several friends in the short time he's been with us," I'm told. "But the ones he spends most time with are a little girl named Isobel and two boys named Ho… Mitchell and Lenny."

"Oh, he's mentioned Mitch," I say. "And Lenny. They swap sandwiches sometimes. is Isobel the girl with the really long hair?"

They both look pleased that I know all that.

"We know all three families and we are both confident that you won't have any … difficulties. Of course, it is a holiday weekend, and they may have plans, but if they don't I'm sure that they will be pleased."

"I should tell you, Justin," his teacher says confidentially (we'd dispensed with the formalities right at the beginning, "Isobel's parents are French, and although Isobel speaks English very well, it's with quite a strong accent, and I think some of the other children make her feel very self-conscious, so she hasn't been participating as much as we would like. But ever since Gus has joined the class, she has been chattering to him and so gradually she is opening up with everyone else as well."

I nod. "I guess that his time in Canada gave him a chance to hear different accents, so he probably doesn't find it as strange as the other kids do."

They both nod.

They suggest that I check out the "Parents' Register" which is part of the PTA records. Parents can choose to have their phone numbers included so that other parents can contact them about stuff. The school secretary has it and it has all three of the numbers I need. I make sure to add my cell number to the list as well.

But before I can escape, the Principal pops out of her office again and asks if she can speak to me for a few minutes.

She asks me what our plans are for Gus for the upcoming summer break. To be honest, we haven't thought about it much. We've been so focused on getting into the house and organizing the housewarming party that we hadn't really looked much past it.

But it sounds as if it's still going to be a while before Lindsay's ready to take on her responsibilities so I guess we need to. I suppose now that the Warhol stuff is nearly done, I could maybe take the time …

"We do have a very good holiday program," the Principal says.

Then she goes on to explain how the program is all about learning and experiencing and whatever. She says that of course it's fully booked, but …

Turns out there's an "art week" and an "in the workplace" week, and while never doing anything so crass as to suggest that it's a trade off, it's made pretty clear that if Brian and I are both prepared to participate in the relevant weeks, we can get Gus into the program.

I tell her I'll have to discuss it with Brian and she says, "Of course," and gives me some brochures.

I guess I'm lucky we don't get rail-roaded into car-pooling or bake days.
 

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