Bright Haven

by Edith Scott

  I had no desire to explain my relationship with Mike to my parents. I had no desire to explain anything to my parents. But I did need to tell them something, so they would at least get out of my house and this awkward conversation could end.

  So maybe they were wondering what I was going to say next. I didn’t know either.

  But it was my dad who spoke next. “I thought this might be your reaction. And I don’t blame you.” He glanced at my mother. “We don’t blame you. But…”

  “But,” my mother interjected. “Please don’t decide right now. Please think about it. Talk it over with Mike.” She paused and indicated him, smiling at him in a way only a mother grateful to someone for taking care of her child could. “Sleep on it.”

  “You are my son,” my father said. “I know you, like me, feel that talk is cheap. I don’t want to just tell you I’m sorry. I want to show you I’m sorry. I want to fix this.”

  My mind raced, thinking about the years of pain and the repercussions of the direction he forced me on the lives of so many people. “How on earth are you going to do that?” I said, my voice blunt and thick. “Fix this? How? Do you have a time machine?”

  Mike squeezed my shoulder. “I think that’s probably enough for tonight,” he said. He stood up, pulling me up with him.

  My parents both stood, bewildered by Mike’s declaration, but obeying his command of the room. Mike walked toward the door and opened it. “Thank you for coming by. We will discuss this, and get back to you.”

  My parents gaped at me, marveled at Mike, and filed out the front door. “Good night, and please watch your step,” Mike said politely.

  Relief filled me as Mike rescued me from my parents and this painful conversation. Mike closed the door and turned to me just as my knees buckled. He held out his arms and I ran into them.

  4

  David

  I felt a nudge and heard a whine. Bacon sat against the couch and put his paw up on my leg, as if trying to console me. I learned over and hugged his furry neck, drying my wet eyes in his soft coat. I knew from experience with the girls, if I kept crying, the next thing he’d try would be to bring me his toys to cheer me up. He was a good dog.

  After my parents left, I didn’t have much to say for a while. We ate dinner in mostly silence, and I mulled over the events of the evening.

  My emotions ran all over the place. Sad, angry, and sometimes hopeful. But that hope usually led to me feeling sad and angry again.

  I was usually the talkative one, and Mike the silent type. Our evening was definitely thrown off by all my brooding.

  That night in bed, I cuddled up to Mike wearing my button up pajamas. I’d gotten him several pairs too, but he usually opted to just wear the bottoms. This was fine with me. I could admire his big manly chest, and cuddle up to his warm skin. He put his arm around me and I leaned my head against his shoulder. “What should I do,” I sighed.

  Mike wasn’t one to go on and on at length, usually, so I knew I wasn’t going to get a lecture or anything. Thank god. He smoothed his hand over my hair and said, “What do you want? Like really want?”

  I wilted realizing I was going to have to make this decision. “Ugh,” I complained.

  Mike chuckled. “Just look inside yourself. What is the first reaction that comes to you?”

  I frowned and leaned back. “I don’t know. What do I want? My parents show up and wanted me to forgive them for — for ruining my life. Just like that? It makes me mad.”

  Mike sighed. “Yeah, I get it. But, another question to ask is — is your life ruined?”

  Was it? Mike’s solid warmth beside me and the perfection of our master bedroom said otherwise.

  “Not anymore, but they made it a hell of a lot harder and messier to get here,” I grumbled. Annoyance flared through me. “Why am I the one who has to change here? They pushed me to this place. And now I have to forgive them?”

  “Remember, you don’t have to to anything,” Mike said. “Don’t fall into the trap of doing what your parents want out of a sense of guilt or obligation.”

  I sat back, stunned. “Is there any other way though? I mean, I feel like I’m the one who has to change here, when they are the ones who did this.”

  “That’s true,” Mike said. “But maybe…” he trailed off, thinking.

  “Maybe what?”

  “It’s like your dad said. Talk is cheap. So far this is talk, right?”

  “Yeah, but what else would it be?” I felt trapped by the situation, and that made it hard for me to think clearly.

  “What if your parents had to do something?” Mike said. “You feel like you have to do all the actions here — all the changing. Which isn’t fair to you. What if instead, you required them to do something.”

  I frowned, puzzling this over. “Do something? Like get the broomstick from the wicked witch, or bring me seven rubies?”

  Mike laughed. “Ah, David.” He pulled me close and kissed me. His lips on mine momentarily made me forget my angst, and I reveled in the simple pleasure of kissing the man I love while cuddled in bed on a cold winter night.

  When our kiss ended, Mike held my chin in his hand and looked into my eyes. “Think about it,” he said. “What is something you want that they have the ability to help you with?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to answer.

  I thought for a moment, biting my lip in thought. “I want to start the Amberly animal shelter,” I said, realization flooding through me. This dream of mine, newly invigorated when I saw how the clinic and shelter worked together in the next town, had been relegated to “someday” status because we didn’t have to money, time and connections to make it happen right away. We’d estimated maybe being able to start in two or three years based on the calendar we projected.

  “Who has money, time and connections?” Mike grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

  Possibilities flooded through me. I could get my animal shelter going if I had their backing. But a dark thought thumped inside me. “But wait, how is that direct repentance for them? I want the shelter, but it’s not enough. It’s not related to what they are apologizing for. I want them to have to show that they have changed their attitudes, not just to me, but to the world.”

  Mike shrugged. “Think of it like you are passing a law and can add all kinds of amendments to it. What all do you want from them, while they are willing to give it to you?”

  Energy surged through me as I thought about the situation my parents put me in. It felt like righteous indignation. “You know what I want? I don’t just want some apology. I want them to do something big and public as a gesture to the LGBT community. Something that actually helps LGBT kids — specifically ones who have been ostracized by their families.”

  “Ohh, good idea,” Mike said.

  “They could set up a trust, and then create a safe house for LGBT kids who have been rejected by their families.”

  “Do they have that kind of money?” Mike scratched his head.

  “Remember, they have money and they know lots and lots of people who have even more money. My mom knows how to do this, it’s what she does all day besides shop and get her nails done. She does all kinds of charity work and is on all kinds of boards.”

  “That’s true,” Mike said. “I’m sure she does. It’s a very ambitious request. I like it, I do. But these are no small projects.”

  “They will make it happen,” I said, resolute in my decision. “If they want to be in my life, this is what it will take. Then I will know they mean it. It will be a lot of work. But they put me through a lot of work jumping through their hoops.”

  Mike laughed. “True. And this work will benefit a lot of kids and animals.”

  “Exactly.” I sat back, feeling victorious and excited. An Amberly Purple Door project and the animal shelter I wanted? This Christmas might turn out to be even better than I’d hoped.

  I couldn’t wait to tell my parents. Suddenly the idea of talking to them didn’t make me feel po
werless. I felt…invigorated. If they agreed, this could open a whole new door with them. They would learn about the problems of at-risk LGBT kids, and get involved at a level that would require them to talk their walk. And we could actually do some real good in this world. Together.

  5

  Mike

  David seemed so much happier after he decided what he needed from his parents in order to accept their apology. His father controlled him for years, and then tried to clamp down again when we got back together. David fell back into it, at first. Old patterns are hard to break, especially when you haven’t had a catalyst for changing. But then he told his dad to shove it.

  I’m glad he did, and that he finally broke away. But I know that he’s been hurting about the fact that he even had to do such a thing.

  It’s hard when the people who are supposed to love you are the ones who reject and hurt you. How does a kid become equipped to defend himself against that? He doesn’t. Not until he’s an adult, and in many cases, not until he’s been an adult for a while.

  I understand this. I wasn’t able to really be myself until after my old man died, to be honest.

  So with that all decided, David called his parents and made a lunch date to meet them at the country club tomorrow.

  In the meantime, there were two girls sitting at the kitchen bar swinging their legs and eating pancakes. Bacon sat under them, waiting for them to drop food.

  “Mike!” Ava said, just before stuffing a syrup soaked piece of pancake into her mouth.

  “Ava!” I said, grinning at her.

  “Ask your question before you put food in your mouth,” David reminded her.

  Ava managed to give him a guilty look, but didn’t hold it for long. She grinned and chewed her pancake. With her mouth closed, thank goodness.

  Her sister Chloe took advantage of the situation. “Are we going to decorate the tree today?” she wanted to know.

  I nodded. “I told you we would, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. I just wanted to make sure. Sometimes grown ups say something will happen, but then it sometimes doesn’t.”

  “Sometimes grown ups can’t help that,” David reminded her. “Life is complicated, so if someone says they will do something and then they can’t, it might be out of their hands.”

  Chloe looked down and pushed her pancakes around. “I know. I know. I’m just excited to decorate the tree.”

  “That’s good,” I said, refilling her orange juice. “Because I need lots of help to get everything done. I waited for you guys to get here so you could make sure I did everything right.”

  David choked, and then tried to cover it up with coughing.

  “You’re so funny, Mike!” Ava said. “You always have to make sure everything is perfect!”

  Chloe giggled, covering her mouth while she absentmindedly waved her fork around.

  I laughed, glancing at David who was leaning up against the counter, his arms folded, an enormous smile on his face. He raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

  “Oh no!” Ava suddenly said. Both girls looked down at the floor under their chairs. I leaned over the counter and Bacon was happily wolfing down a pancake. Both girls looked up at me guiltily. “I dropped a pancake,” Ava said.

  Chloe’s eyes were wide and she looked back and forth between me and her father.

  “Did it have syrup on it?” I said, hoping not.

  Ava shook her head no, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

  “Oh good,” I said. “We don’t feed Bacon people food, but the syrup is extra bad for him.”

  Both girls nodded solemnly. “We know,” Chloe said. “We’ll be careful.”

  I looked back over the counter at my opportunistic dog. “You lucked out,” I told him. He smiled up at me and thumped his tail. Then he weaved himself out from between the chair legs and came around the counter to see me.

  I squatted and Bacon came up between my legs, his nose reaching for my face. I gathered up his fur on both sides of his neck between my fingers and scratched him just the way he liked. “Who’s my good boy?”

  “Not Bacon!” Ava giggled.

  “He’s still mostly good,” I said, and hugged my furry friend. He tried to wrestle away from me and lick my face. I tipped my head out of his reach and laughed. Bacon was the reason I had this family in the first place.

  “Can we string popcorn for the tree?” Chloe wanted to know.

  “How do you know about stringing popcorn?” David said.

  “It was in a book at school,” Ava informed him.

  “Oh,” David said. “I don’t know. Do we know how to do that? Would Bacon eat the popcorn?”

  They all looked at me. “I don’t know anything about stringing popcorn but how hard could it be? We could look it up.”

  “We could put it higher up so Bacon couldn’t reach it?” Ava said.

  “Bacon doesn’t even want popcorn we try to feed him on purpose,” Chloe said. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth and her huge eyes betrayed her guilt.

  “You are such a tattle tale,” Ava said.

  Chloe frowned, but kept her hand over her mouth.

  “Don’t feed Bacon popcorn,” I said, trying to feel patient.

  Chloe glared at her sister and slowly pulled her hand away from her face. “We know. It wasn’t really on purpose. It just fell on the floor and we thought maybe he would get it. But he didn’t care.”

  “Well that’s good to know,” I said, looking at David with my, what are we going to do with these kids look.

  “So are we going to pop popcorn?” Ava said, bouncing up and down. She grabbed her sister’s hands and they jumped and danced in a circle together. “Pop corn! Pop pop pop popcorn!” they sang.

  Bacon ran up to them and barked, like what is going on! Why are you barking!?

  “I’ll pop the popcorn,” David said, interrupting the melee. “You girls go wash all the sticky off yourselves, and brush your teeth.”

  “Okay Papa,” Ava said. She’s been trying out new names for David lately. Chloe giggled and looked at her dad to see if “papa” would fly.

  David blinked and started to say something, and then shook his head and smiled.

  “Better than calling you David, right?” I laughed.

  David laughed and resumed digging through the kitchen cabinet for the popcorn popper. “Exactly,” he said.

  As the girls ran down the hall, I heard Chloe scold Ava. “Papa is Grandpa, not Daddy!”

  David turned around with the popcorn popper in his hands and looked at me helplessly.

  “Don’t worry,” I reminded him. “You’ll get it all figured out with them. For now let’s just focus on decorating.” One thing at a time, that’s my motto.

  David’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Okay, yeah,” he agreed. “Just caught me off guard, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I pulled him close for a side hug while he cradled the popcorn popper. I kissed him on his head and smacked his ass as he walked by.

  David laughed and carried the popper to the counter.

  After some googling and a quick trip downtown to get needles and thread, David and I found ourselves threading popcorn onto needles. I had to be ambitious and get cranberries to thread too, because I figured while we are doing this thing — let’s go all out.

  The girls were still trying, but it turns out that sliding a needle through a piece of popcorn without breaking it is pretty delicate work. So, that means that David and I were left with most of the work.

  “Bacon needs to go outside,” I told the girls. He’d been really good, and it was true — he wasn’t interested in popcorn. But I could tell the girls were getting stir crazy and needed a change of scene, preferably something outside and active. “Will you girls take him in the backyard and run around with him?”

  David peeked up from his popcorn stringing and smiled at me.

  “Yes!” the girls both shrieked. “Come on, Bacon! Let’s go outside!”

  That was a
ll they needed to say. Bacon jumped to his feet and ran circles around them as they put on their shoes and coats. In a tumble of noise and shrieks, they clattered outside. We could still hear them in the yard, but it was insulated, and the room fell into silence.

  “Did you think you’d ever be stringing popcorn and cranberries to put on a tree?” David said, leaning back and stretching his back.

  “I never try to predict anything anymore,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again either.” I felt my heart surge with love for my elegant and sensitive David. “I feel lucky that I get to be a part of this family with you and the girls.”

  David blushed and he dragged his eyes to meet mine. “We’re lucky to have you,” he said. Then he shuffled through his phone and with the touch of a button the speakers came to live and the house filled with Christmas music.

  “Now we’re really festive!” he said, dancing a little to the music.

  I smiled and shook my head. I loved how silly he could be sometimes.

  While David finished stringing the garland together I wound all the lights on the Christmas tree. We got multicolored lights to make the girls happy, and wow were they ever! I thought white lights would look better with everything else we were doing, but if this wasn’t to entertain the girls, what was it for?

  Finally, after poking a needle and thread through about a million cranberries and pieces of popcorn we strung the garlands on the tree. I haven’t lived with kids long, but one thing is for sure. All those fun ideas they want to do end up being no work for them and lots of work for the adults.

  But the garlands were worth it. They gave an extra organic fresh feel to the inside, and complimented the fresh green of the live tree. And they looked better with the rainbow lights than I thought they would.