“I see you’ve met your uncle.” Thomas broke the silence with an eyebrow raised in question before turning his eyes to his wife. “And I’m curious, Madeline, how you knew that.”
Joel's mother braced herself for a fight, stepping closer toward her husband, which felt to Joel like a momentary reprieve.
“He wasn’t hard to find, even using his mother’s name and not your father’s,” she scoffed, gesturing at the space around them. “Besides, he has all of this, and we don’t. He’s your brother and he should contribute to our family.”
“I don’t want his help, Madeline. He chose to walk away from my family when he was outed because he knew we didn’t want his kind around. I still don’t want him around, and I don’t want his queer money.” Thomas raised his gaze to Gabriel before shaking his head and glancing back toward Madeline.
“I asked him for money to send Joel away! He could have helped us fix him if you weren’t so stubborn and pig-headed!” Madeline screeched at him.
“He doesn’t need to be fixed, Madeline.” Gabriel finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. He repeated himself, “He doesn’t need to be fixed. He’s perfect.” With the last words, he turned his body toward Joel, finally allowing their eyes to meet.
Joel's entire body shook, overwhelmed with confusion, and something inside of him cracked. “He is standing right here,” Joel said, his voice coming out shaky, but sure.
“Oh, we’re aware of where you are, Joel. Mother let us know you were staying with the ‘oh so sweet stranger’ from across the hall, Gabriel Hunter.” Madeline shifted her attention to Gabriel. “You know, Gabriel, I never knew you weren’t a Russell, but I knew you moved when the last card was returned. But to move across the hall from my mother? That's an interesting move for a man who supposedly wants nothing to do with his family. Now, aren’t you going to offer us a drink? We’ve come so far, after all.”
“No.” Gabriel's answer was abrupt and echoed in the silence of the room. “I think it’s best if you go.”
“No, I don’t think so, brother dear.” Thomas looked between Joel and Gabriel and must have seen the pleading intent behind Gabriel's eyes, as well as the way Gabriel's body seemed to lean toward Joel in a silent plea for support. Gabriel's eyes darted down to the open button of Joel's pants before flicking back up to Joel's face.
“Jesus Christ, did you fuck him?” Thomas’s voice was shrill. “Did you fuck your own nephew? You filthy fucking queer. That's disgusting.”
“Gabriel, did you? That’s a new low, even for someone like you.” This, from Joel's mom. “I can't believe you touched my child. You're a monster.”
All eyes were back on Gabriel, whose eyes were still on Joel, and Joel alone.
Joel looked around the room at everything and everyone but Gabriel. Gabriel was his uncle? It didn't seem possible, but Thomas kept calling him “brother.”
Joel crossed the few feet to stand before Gabriel, tentatively reaching out to graze his finger along the back of Gabriel's hand. “Is it true, Gabriel? Are you my uncle?”
A slight nod was the only reply Gabriel offered, and as Joel watched Gabriel's eyes fill with tears, one slid down his own cheek. Joel took a step back, but Gabriel grabbed his hand. “I told you there were things I still had to tell you. This was it, Joel, this was the last thing.”
Joel allowed Gabriel's hand to warm his before wrenching it free. “This is sort of a big thing, Gabriel.” He stepped back another pace. “We’re,” Joel choked on the words, “related?”
“Of course you’re related, he’s my brother,” Thomas accused, while Gabriel offered a small shake of his head.
“Yes, but… not really, no. By marriage only, Joel. Not by blood.” Gabriel's body seemed to be imploring Joel to see reason. There was another crack inside of Joel’s chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to remain at bay.
“This is huge, Gabriel.” Joel dug the heels of his hands into his closed eyelids and shook his head, as if he could will it all away. “This is a big fucking deal.”
“Bigger than what we talked about before? Bigger than what you said to me an hour ago?” Gabriel's voice took on an edge of panic as he stepped toward Joel to close the gap between them.
“I told you how important family was. You knew. Even if I don’t talk to mine, you knew it mattered to me.” Before Joel could take another step back, Gabriel advanced to only inches away and fell to his knees, grabbing Joel's hands and kissing his knuckles.
“That’s what I wanted, though. To be your family. To make a family, with you.” Joel eyed Gabriel, supplicant before him, both of their cheeks wet with tears.
“But you already were, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me. You’re not devoted, Gabriel. You’re selfish. Keeping that knowledge to yourself was selfish.” Joel shook his hands free and stepped back. Gabriel didn’t move.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” he said to Thomas and his mother, not taking his gaze from Gabriel's begging eyes, “but I never want to see any of you ever again.”
Gabriel let out a watery cry but didn’t move from his position on the floor. Joel backed down the hallway, only turning when there was enough distance between them so Gabriel couldn’t catch him.
He pushed the door to his bedroom open. His bedroom. Right. The things that had earlier that night made him think of devotion and affection now made him feel nothing but rage. He’d had a family this entire time. Or rather, he could have had a family, but Gabriel had been too selfish to allow him that small shred of normalcy because it wasn’t what Gabriel wanted. He'd had no concern for what Joel had wanted, or needed, all that time he was alone.
Or maybe not so alone, since Gabriel had been there, hadn't he, hiding in the shadows and biding his time, while Joel had been so lonely it hurt.
The thought made Joel want to break something.
He grabbed his duffel bag, tossing loose clothing into it, and cinching it closed. He looked at the room around him, chin quivering and eyes freely shedding tears, and he screamed. At the top of his lungs, Joel let loose a shout of rage, disappointment and abandonment. He sucked in the cry that wanted to follow, he knew it would sound too much like heartbreak. Fittingly, not one of the three people in the living room came to see if he was okay. And that was fine, because he wasn't, and none of them could fix him. He didn’t know if he would ever be okay again.
What started as confusion, morphed into disappointment, and then to an anger that was boiling and quickly threatening to consume Joel entirely. With all the strength he could muster, he raised his shaking hands and swiped the pile of records into a heap onto the floor. It didn’t make him feel better. He crossed to the bookshelf and started pulling books out by the handful, throwing them across the room. Each one hit the wall with a thud that did nothing to satisfy the gaping fucking hole growing inside of his chest.
Next, Joel opened the closet and ripped every piece of clothing from the hangers, throwing them down into a pile and stomping on them as if he were a child throwing a temper tantrum. He knew in his heart, his actions wouldn't make anything better, but he was fucking destroyed. He needed to destroy something in return. All these beautiful things would now be broken, and ripped, and torn, like him. These tokens of affection were now destroyed, selfishly discarded, like he had been.
His eyes caught on the record player, and with one arm, he swiped it off the stand and it clattered to the floor, breaking apart with a deafening shatter.
Shattered, like me.
And still, no one came.
Joel hunched his body, hands on his knees, and heaved with the weight of his loneliness. His eyes caught a faded green book binding under his feet. Reaching down with a shaking hand, he had a feeling about what the book was. He grabbed it and turned it to read the faded, gilded gold print on its spine. Les Misérables by Victor Hugo.
Joel screamed again, now in frustration more than anything else, and reached down to pick up the second volume from the floor.
Without looking back, he walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. The scene in the living room was much as he’d left it. Gabriel, still on his knees, and Thomas and his mother gathered together a few feet away, most likely conspiring how to do further damage. Joel needed answers from the three people in front of him, but more than that, right now he needed space. The truth of his fucked-up family could come another day. He needed air and he needed to get out of this place he had almost begun to think of as home.
Joel squeezed the two books together in his right hand, raising his left to point at Thomas and his mother. “You two, I never want to see you again. And as for you…” He looked down at Gabriel through tear-blurred eyes, “Fuck you.” He threw the books down and they bounced off Gabriel's chest. Gabriel flinched when they hit, but otherwise he remained still.
Taking one last look at the condo, his mother, then at his… uncle, Joel walked out the open front door, slamming it closed behind him.
***
Joel pounded frantically on Athena's front door until he heard her footsteps on the other side. He had left his phone at Gabriel's, and it was probably just as well because right now he didn’t want any reminder of the man he loved. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand under his nose as Athena pulled the door open.
“You didn’t really take one of Donny’s kittens, did you?” Joel asked quickly, as tears started to slide down his cheeks again.
“Of course not, Baby J, you know I…” Athena’s statement was cut off as Joel threw himself at her, sobbing uncontrollably on her shoulder. Without asking what was wrong, she wrapped her arms around him and hauled him inside the apartment. They stood together in her hallway where she held him and stroked his hair while he cried.
Joel was fucking stupid and he hated himself. Hated the way his heart grew warm and too big for his chest when he thought of Gabriel's first confession. For the first time in ages, Joel had been happy, truly fucking happy, and it was with Gabriel, because of Gabriel. It was cruel to have that snatched away so quickly.
Athena’s ministrations soothed him and his crying slowed, then his breathing returned to normal. She shouldered his weight and led him to her living room, dropping him down on the couch before going to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Joel swallowed it down, then reached for the hem of Athena's long black skirt to wipe his eyes.
“You’re obviously feeling a little more like yourself if you’re using my clothes as a snot rag, so tell me what in the fuck is going on, Baby J. Do I need to go kill handsome stranger?” Athena tugged her skirt free from his hand, entangling her fingers with his instead.
Joel let out a snort of derision. “Don’t call him that. He’s a selfish asshole. That’s all he is. A selfish–” He couldn’t finish the sentiment, his body racked with another sob. Athena took him squarely by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. She lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to tell her.
“He’s my uncle,” he rushed out, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Your what?” Athena’s voice became loud. “He’s your what?”
“Uncle,” Joel supplied. “And that’s not all of it. God, Theenie, it’s fucked up. Like, really fucked up.”
“Well I’ve got all night.” She wiped his wet cheeks with her thumbs, offering him a smile.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have started with the uncle part, actually. Because that’s not where it starts. He, uh, well… Gabriel was stalking me.”
“Stalking you? He was stalking you?”
“Athena, your questions are really not furthering this story at all. Can I tell you before I lose my fucking shit again, please?”
Athena made the motion as if she was zipping her lips and nodded.
“He was stalking me, yes. But he told me about it, and it’s so fucked, Theenie, because I was fucking okay with it. He told me about all the fucked-up things he’s been doing over the past year and I loved it. And he told me and I let him fuck me afterwards. I told him I loved him.” Joel choked on the words. He let the silence wrap around them both, and Athena squeezed his hand, pulling him closer to her. “I love him. And I hate him. And it was fucking perfect, Theenie, the most amazing thing, and I understood it. It made sense to me, the things he did and the way it made me feel made sense. It was all fine, it was okay. And then my mom and Thomas showed up.”
Athena opened her mouth and then snapped it shut.
“And I was in shock to see them there, you know? Then Thomas said Gabriel was his brother, and mom kept talking about trying to get money from Gabriel to fix me, then about him fucking his nephew and shit. God, Theenie, it’s so fucked up.”
“I gotta stop you there, Baby J. Hold on. There’s a lot to take apart there, okay?” Athena stroked his hair and he nodded, resting his head on her shoulder so he wouldn’t have to see the judgment on her face. “Who said Gabriel was your uncle?”
“Thomas. Thomas said Gabriel was his brother.”
“Okay, well he’s not actually your uncle then, because Thomas is your stepfather, so, non-issue there,” Athena surmised. Joel opened his mouth to interject, but she silenced him with a hand over his mouth. “What about your mom trying to get money to fix you? What the fuck is that about?”
Joel shrugged into her chest. “I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”
“Well, wouldn’t that have been prudent? Maybe, you think? To find out what the hell your mom was going on about before you got all mad and huffy and stormed out?”
“I can deal with her later, that’s the real non-issue, Athena. The issue is Gabriel lied to me. He fucked me and said all these wonderful things to me. He made me believe he loved me and he fucking lied to me.” Joel kneed her in the thigh and she oomphed out a grunt of pain.
“Joel. You’re not seeing this clearly, and I get it, but let me lay the truth down for you, okay?” Athena untangled herself from Joel and held his face between her hands. “I don’t know the details of whatever this stalking shit is, but you were okay with that, and you’re upset because Gabriel is your uncle, but not actually your uncle? Baby J, that seems a little, well, skewed.” She wiped more tears with her thumbs.
“He stole my favorite shirt from the dryer at the laundromat, and it was in the closet in his spare bedroom. He bought the books I had been looking at when I was at an estate sale last week. The soap. Fuck, the soap in his bathroom is the same soap I use. The sheets, the sheets were red, because it’s my favorite color.” Joel pinched his eyes shut, and Athena pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“And you love him,” she whispered. It wasn't a question.
“And I love him.”
Silence stretched between them.
“He came clean, Theenie. I found my favorite shirt, so I asked him and he told me. But he didn’t tell me about being my uncle. Fuck, Athena, I fucked my uncle, Jesus Christ.”
“Joel. He’s not your fucking uncle. He’s your shitbag of a stepfather’s brother. That does not an uncle make. And you didn’t even know Thomas had a brother, which means they weren’t even close, so it’s practically as non-familial as you can get.”
Joel opened his mouth to protest and Athena covered it again with her hand. “You’re not thinking clearly about this. Come to bed. We can try to sort this out again in the morning, okay?”
Joel nodded in defeat and let Athena usher him down the hall to her bedroom. She pulled back the blankets on her bed. “Get in.”
He crawled under the blankets and she lowered them over him, tucking in around him like a burrito. She pressed another kiss to his forehead before walking to the other side, shedding her skirt and crawling in behind him. She reached a hand across the bed, pressing it solidly against his spine, flexing her fingers lightly before dropping them.
“Thank you, Athena.”
“I’ll always be here for you, Baby J. Whatever you need.”
Joel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the fragrance of Athena’s shampoo and perfume, and fell in
to a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Gabriel Drinks All of the Whiskey
The door slammed closed and Gabriel dropped his weight onto his heels, the floor biting into his knees.
Thomas clapped his hands together, breaking the silence left by Joel's departure. “Well, that was fun. Now, let's have a little chat about how you,” he pointed down at Gabriel, “know my wife, and what the fuck you two have been doing behind my back.” He glared at Madeline.
Gabriel unfolded himself from the floor, wiped his eyes, and sighed. “I have never owed you an explanation for anything and I'm not going to start with one now.” He crossed to the wet bar, poured himself two fingers of whiskey, and swallowed it down.
“I'd love a drink, thanks Gabriel.” Madeline sat on his couch, staring expectantly across the room at him.
Gabriel took down a clean glass, poured two fingers of whiskey into it and crossed the space between them. He stood in front of her, glancing at her outstretched arm, and drank the whiskey, then handed her the empty glass. “I'm certain you would.”
Sitting in an armchair, Gabriel shifted his attention to Thomas. “Your wife sent me Christmas cards for the past six years. I missed the last one, must have been because the return mail forwarding was up on my old address.” Gabriel sighed and watched the way the muscles in his feet shifted as he flexed his toes into the carpet. He thought about Joel's feet, delicate and slender, and the way Joel’s skin had tasted in his mouth. Gabriel closed his eyes, his entire body going slack and drooping back against his seat.
His Kind of Love Page 16