I decided to stop by the Manor on my way to Roger’s. If Mother was there, I could give her a progress report on the Greg situation. If not, I could still spend a little time with my father. A little time might be all I had left.
Chapter Sixteen
As it turned out, neither my mother nor Jules was there. The nurse—Jules’s sister, Gillian—I remembered, told me that my mother had been in earlier and left only minutes before. The doctor, she volunteered—I didn’t ask—was at Grady, a local teaching hospital affiliated with Emory University’s School of Medicine, which provided free medical care to anyone who couldn’t afford it. She told me he volunteered there once a week to work with the elderly. I wondered if that had something to do with that relative in Scotland.
I sat with my father for over an hour. He seemed no better or worse than the day before. During my stay, I watched him stare at the television and wondered what was going on in his mind. Was he reliving yesterday? I don’t think until that moment I realized that he was gone from me for good. Oh, he was still breathing and, hopefully, would go on doing so for a lot longer, but there would be no great deathbed scene where he suddenly recognized me and declared his love for me. There would be no sudden clarity of vision when he recalled what I meant to him.
I remembered something Mother said to me right after we admitted him to Bradford Manor. “What you want is for him to be young and healthy again. You want it all to go away. But it won’t, you know. He’s not going to get better, and once you accept the fact, it will be easier for you.
At the time, her words had seemed a personal affront, an insult to my feelings for my father, but now I realized she was right. Denial wouldn’t turn back the clock for any of us.
I didn’t know I was crying until tears dripped on my hands. I almost ran out of the room. Then I remembered Jules’ words as if he were standing in the room speaking them. “You’ll only remember how you handled it.”
I pulled my chair over close to the bed and reached up, taking his hand. I could hear birds singing outside the windows. Did he? He had loved birds at one time, teaching me all the names I’d long ago forgotten.
He didn’t seem to be aware I was there, but it didn’t matter. “You’ve been such a wonderful father,” I told him, my voice wobbling only a little. “I remember when I was six. You were rewiring a lamp that had a short in it. I came to you and asked you how electricity worked.” I swallowed and continued. “You didn’t laugh at me or brush me off. You explained it to me, you actually drew me pictures and showed me how you were splicing the wire in the lamp cord and why that would work. You even let me wrap the electrical tape around the wire. I’ll never forget that. I’m a whiz with wiring now, but I’d probably be scared to death to try it if you’d told me it was too complicated for me or that I was too young or something like that. And you know what else?” I asked, rubbing his cold fingers. “You and mom really taught me about love. I hope Darren and I did that for our kids. They’re going to need that knowledge.”
I talked for an hour. Disjointed thoughts. Whatever came to mind. The talking calmed me, settled me somewhere deep inside. I had so much to say to him, so much to thank him for. I hoped I had long enough to get it all said.
I wondered if this was what my mother did every day, say the things she never thought to say before. I hoped so.
# # # # #
I arrived at Roger’s with a heart years, not pounds, lighter. “You just missed Ellie.” He steered me to his station. “I wish you had seen her. We did her hair the wildest shade of red.”
“Red.”
Roger burst out laughing. “She said to tell you that. She told me exactly how your face would look when I said it. Oh, did she have it pegged. She’s a hoot, that Ellie.”
I wouldn’t agree with him that she was a hoot until he vowed to me that her hair was the same color when she left as when she came in.
It was an instructive two hours. I knew I would never use all Roger taught me about makeup, but it was fun to learn. I had never gone in much for makeup and hairdos and the like, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself. He pronounced my nails a mess (“What have you been doing, raking gravel with your fingertips?”) and my toes acceptable after I took off my shoes and showed him. My hair was washed and conditioned and styled. I felt pampered and beautiful and left there in such a wonderful mood, I barely winced when he told me how much I owed him.
It was only two o’clock when he finished with me. I didn’t want to go home. I decided to stop by the office to see what was happening there.
To my shock, my son stood bent over the back layout table with Klee and three staff architects. He glanced up when I walked in the door, then looked away, but not before I saw the guilt etched in his features. There was no guilt on Klee’s face. He looked up and grinned from ear to ear, winking at me before he went back to what he was doing. From Greg’s scowl, I felt certain he hadn’t missed the exchange.
I stormed into the office where Sam and Jeff sat. “What’s Greg doing here?” I demanded.
“Hi, Lou,” Jeff said, looking suddenly uncomfortable in his chair. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here,” I said, barely giving him a glance. My eyes were locked on Sam’s; his seemed to be avoiding mine. “What is my son doing here?”
Sam cleared his throat. “He works here too, Lou. We put him on temporarily.”
“You what?”
“He needed a job,” Jeff said, his voice almost pleading.
“He has a job,” I shot back. “In California.”
Jeff and Sam looked at each other. Some invisible signal passed between them. Jeff got up and sidled out the door.
“Sit down, Lou,” Sam said when he was gone.
I could see that he wasn’t going to say anything else until I did, so I sat. “Well?”
“I didn’t think you’d be upset, Lou,” Sam began, his face earnest. “The kid is really torn up about you and Darren. He said he’d taken a leave of absence without pay from his job out west and he was going to stay here in town until he talked some sense into you two even if he went broke doing it.”
“Sam—”
He held up a hand. “Wait a minute, Lou. I figured he might stay a week, two weeks. I know you and Darren aren’t going back together. You’re both much too levelheaded to make that kind of decision and then change your mind. But the kid was going to stay here anyway, and I couldn’t see any reason for him to go broke while he did, especially since we desperately need the help.”
I thought about what he was saying. It sounded reasonable. Impossible to live with, but reasonable. “If we need help so badly, why don’t you borrow someone like you usually do?” It was common practice between architectural firms to shift staff around. We had borrowed architects from a lot of the firms around town and sent one or two of ours to them when they were swamped and we were slow.
“Because they’re all as crunched as we are. We tried, believe me. Then Greg dropped by to see us and told us he was going to hang around for a while, and, well—” He shifted in his chair. “Jeff was afraid you’d think maybe we were trying to steal him from the folks in California, but I told him you wouldn’t mind when I explained what we were doing. I was right, wasn’t I? You don’t mind, do you?”
I minded very much, and it must have shown on my face.
“Geez, Lou,” Sam said, “I really thought you’d be okay with it. I told the kid it would be week to week, nothing definite, but what can I tell him now? He’s only been here a few hours. Do you want me to let him go?”
Sam looked so miserable that I couldn’t blurt out “yes” like I wanted to. “Don’t do anything yet, Sam,” I said, standing. “Let me think about it. Okay?”
I could see the relief in the way he jumped up from his chair. “Sure. That’s great. You think about it. You’ll be in tomorrow, right? We can talk about it then.”
“I don’t know. Probably. Maybe,” I said, walking out of his office and straight out through the front
door.
* * * * *
At home, I paced from room to room, much as Greg always did when he was upset. Kitchen to living room. Living room to dining room to family room. I wasn’t really aware of the passage of time, any more than I was more than marginally aware of my own thoughts. This was bad. I wasn’t sure exactly why I knew that, but it was bad. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go to work and know my son was going to be watching my every move. I wasn’t worried about Klee. I could deal with him, but I couldn’t deal with what Greg thought about him. And me.
I hung my head. What a complete mess. What the hell was I going to do? Tell Sam to fire him? Would that do any good? Wouldn’t that only fuel his suspicions?
When the phone rang, I ignored it. There wasn’t a soul alive I wanted to talk to right now. I had to decide what I was going to do, and no one could help with that decision. And I needed to make that decision before my son got home from my office.
I heard his car in the driveway about four. I was in the living room when the front door opened. I heard him halt briefly, then purposefully head for the stairs. “Greg.”
His footsteps stopped. I actually felt him consider pretending he didn’t hear me. Then he reversed his direction and came into the living room. At least he didn’t try to pretend nothing was wrong. He came to a stop inside the door and leaned against the wall, his pose artificially nonchalant.
I was standing in front of the fireplace, my arms crossed. “What are you trying to pull?” I demanded, my peacemaking resolve of the night before forgotten.
He shrugged. “They offered me the job.”
“You had no right to accept without discussing it with me first.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s my office, that’s why not,” I said, feeling my anger build. “It’s where I work.”
“So, what, you were there first?”
“And because I don’t think your reasons for wanting to work there are above-board.”
He shrugged again. “I’m not sure your reasons for not wanting me there are above-board.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means,” he said sullenly.
“I asked you a question, and I want an answer. What does that mean?”
I could see him wrestle with himself before he answered. “It means I thought I’d like to be around to see what’s really going on. And I’m glad I was. I didn’t miss that little exchange between you and the rose man.”
“There is nothing going on between Klee and me,” I said, unable to help defending myself.
“Then you won’t mind having me around, will you?” he said, shrugging away from the wall and starting out the door.
My blood began to boil for real. “This conversation is not over.”
“No?” He spun around, his face distorted. For just an instant, I felt fear. Fear of my own son. Before I had time to react, he sat on the back of the sofa. “So what else would you like to say, mom? Would you like to tell me about the other guy? Roger, isn’t it? How many more are there?”
“There aren’t— Oh, for God’s sake, Greg. What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me? You split with my father and you’re running around with half the guys in town and you want to know what’s gotten into me?”
“I’m not running around with anyone, but if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business. I don’t answer to you—”
“Or to anyone else, apparently. No wonder dad left. Christ, it must have killed him—”
“Your father didn’t leave because—”
I broke off as the phone rang. I was going to ignore it, but Greg made a dive for it.
I saw his face darken even more before he held the phone out to me. “It’s for you. Another one of those guys you aren’t running around with.”
I stood frozen to the spot. I didn’t react until Greg dropped the receiver on the table and stepped away from it. Finally, I recovered enough to pick it up. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Graham, it’s Jules Proctor. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. Gillian told me you were by this morning. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you. I was wondering if you were coming by tomorrow?”
Guilt I couldn’t have explained coursed through me. I had no doubt it was etched onto my features. “I—yes. Probably.”
“Good. Gillian told me you spent a long time with your father. I think that’s great.”
“Yes. Me, too.”
He must have sensed my reluctance to talk. “Well, I won’t keep you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“All right. Goodbye.”
I hung the phone up gently. Then I turned to Greg. “That was my father’s doctor.”
“Sure it was. Making a house call?” he asked with a smirk.
That did it. “I am getting a little tired of your insinuations, Greg. I said that was my father’s doctor and it was.”
“Okay. So what did he want?”
That stopped me cold. What did he want? I had no answer. No answer at all.
“Right,” Greg said. “What a crock. You expect me to buy this horseshit? I’ll tell you something. I don’t blame my father for walking out on you with you running around town with every third man and acting like some kind of—”
He broke off when my face went from furious to stunned. He was standing with his back to the door, so he didn’t see Darren until he had grabbed him by the back of the shirt and slammed him against the wall.
“You watch your goddamn mouth,” Darren growled.
Greg recovered his breath enough to say, “Why are you defending her? You can see what she is.”
“What she is?” Darren shouted into his face. “I’ll tell you what she is. She’s too goddamn good for her own good, that’s what she is, and she’d too goddamn good for either of us. You with your dirty mind and dirty mouth and me—”
“She’s running around on you, for Christ's sake. Don’t pretend you don’t know it.”
“She’s not running around on anyone.”
“Then why the hell did you leave her?” Greg demanded, his voice dripping with scorn and disbelief.
“Because I’m gay, goddamit,” Darren exploded. “That’s why I left her.” He released Greg and took a step back. His body seemed to fold in on itself. “Because…I’m gay.”
Chapter Seventeen
I heard the clock ticking in the corner, a car passing on the street. Darren’s harsh breathing. I couldn’t hear Greg breathing. I think he may have stopped.
None of us moved. I had feared the words being spoken aloud for so long that I thought I might have imagined them. The sky hadn’t fallen; the house hadn’t crumbled around us.
Untrue. It was the lull before the storm.
“That’s a lie,” Greg said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I looked at his face, and then looked away. I had never seen such a tormented expression. I remembered reading Dante’s Inferno in college, and I thought that must be what someone looked like when they were facing the gates of hell. I didn’t look at Darren because I feared he would look worse.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying,” Darren said, his voice flat.
“That’s bullshit.” Greg’s voice rose. “You’re making it up.”
The silence that followed Greg’s words brought my eyes back up. He was looking at Darren as if he’d never seen him before, as if he were a stranger who’d dropped into our midst from a distant planet.
“You’re making it up,” Greg repeated, his voice pleading. “You’re covering for her.”
Darren drew in a long shaky breath and blew it out. “No, son. It’s the truth. Your mother didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want you to hate me. It was a mistake. We should have told you and Jana from the beginning.”
Greg’s look screamed disbelief. “You’re gay. So where did Jana and I come from? Are you going to tell us we’re adopted?”
“No, you’re not adopt
ed—”
“So we were picked up in a cabbage patch?”
“Greg—”
“Or maybe you aren’t really my father. Is that it? Was mom getting it on with someone else all the time?”
“Greg.” His voice held a warning.
“So all the lovey-dovey stuff was bullshit, right? An act?” He snorted. “I don’t buy that.”
“It wasn’t an act. I do love your mother—”
“What a crock. Do you think I’m stupid? You’re gay and you love my mother. What is she, a guy in drag?”
“You little—”
I forcibly interjected myself between them. “That’s enough. Stop it, both of you.” I looked at Greg. Angry as I was, my heart was breaking for him. For them both. “Your father didn’t realize he was gay—”
“Didn’t realize?” He turned to Darren, looking at him with contempt. “How the hell can you not realize you’re gay?”
“We’re not going to discuss this now,” I said.
“Why not?” Greg said. “Why not get it all out in the open.” He turned to me with the same look of contempt. “So my father’s a fag and you stayed married to him for what, thirty years?”
Darren lunged for him, and I blocked him. Or my chin did. The room spun. It probably saved Greg’s hide. As Darren grabbed me to steady me, Greg shot past us. “You two make me sick. Do you hear me? You make me sick!”
An instant later, the front door slammed behind him.
Darren still held onto my arms, staring toward the front door. The room had stopped spinning, but my ears were still ringing. Darren let out an animal-like groan and released me. I wrapped my arms around him and held him where he was. “It’s okay, Darren.”
He tried to pull away. “Christ, Lou.”
I held onto him. “It’s okay. Look at me, Darren.”
He finally did.
“It’s going to be okay. He’s upset. We knew he would be. There was no easy way for him to find out, and you were right. We should have told him from the beginning. He had to find out eventually. He’ll come around.”
An Irreconcilable Difference Page 16