“No, mudding’s not very popular in France.” Climbing up to the seat next to her brother, January braced herself. “I never knew you knew how to drive one of these things.”
“And I never thought you’d ride on one.”
Clearly, Charlie really wanted to show off his work. He wanted her to taste his wine and take a look at the harvested vineyards. She could get a better look in the morning, but that night, he wanted to bring his dream to life for her.
Even in the dark, January enjoyed this trip down memory lane. So much had changed in the fields. Now, they had a huge pumpkin patch, a corn maze and a small shack where they sold autumn treats like apple cider and Aurora’s famous pumpkin loaf to the weekend crowds.
Her brothers made a smart decision to capitalize on the fall season. They’d always held sleigh rides throughout the winter, but the expansion with Halloween brought in their greatest profits of the year. People came from miles away to tour the farm, take hay rides, buy some treats and enjoy the autumn weather.
Once they’d reached Charlie’s rows of prized grapes, he parked and tended to his wine.
“Remember all those crazy summer nights we used to spend out here?” January reminisced.
“And Aurora would ring that damn dinner bell, and we’d ignore her,” he laughed. “We’d bring Dad’s old radio with us, and just sit and jam. And you usually had a boyfriend with you.”
“What the hell else was there to do on the farm?” she asked and then reached for his phone to find some music. Once she settled on a song, she sat back and accepted Charlie’s glass of wine. She swirled and sniffed, and then she lifted the glass to her lips.
“Well…?”
“Hmmm…”
“January, tell me the truth. Do you hate it?”
“Oh, hell, no. This is some pretty damn good Chardonnay!”
“Really?” he nearly begged her for assurance. “Seriously? You know the Gallimores. They don’t know wine. But do you like it?”
“Do you think I’d let you put my name on it if I didn’t like it? It’s wonderful!”
“Oh, thank goodness…” Relief relaxed his shoulders. It was as if he’d been waiting for her to come home and tell him that all along.
“Um, I’ll take another glass.”
As they sat quietly together, January hummed along to “Make Me Like You.” Meanwhile, Charlie took another sip. For the moment, small talk suited them both. “Sounds like you sing that song with experience.”
“Maybe it reminds me of a certain someone,” she said, thinking back to Provence. “Maybe I’m hopeless.”
“Maybe we’re all hopeless,” Charlie said. “All of us—stupid romantics who might never find everything we’re looking for…”
“I do have some lofty requirements,” January admitted. “It’s just hard to come to terms with the fact that I might spend the rest of my life alone.”
“Me, too, Jan…”
“But Charlie, you—”
“Jan, come on, let’s just face it. I’ve lived in Baxter Springs my entire damn life. What’s here for me?”
“Well, that’s why I had to leave—to find someone…to find myself.” Ironically, she had to return to do just that all over again.
“Maybe I don’t want to leave to find someone.”
“You could travel. You’re semi-retired now.”
“But that’s—listen, do you have any idea what I’m trying to tell you?”
Her grip on her cup tightening, she sat up straight against the leather seat. “Charlie…?”
“Jan, what I’m trying to tell you is…” he stopped and then just gulped straight from the bottle. “Jan, I’m gay.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What?”
January jumped in her seat and grabbed the bottle of out her brother’s hands. She needed another drink.
“Oh, come on…like you didn’t guess years ago…”
Out of their entire family, Charlie expected his sister to understand and show some compassion. He never anticipated that she’d be angry with him.
“Charlie, that’s no excuse,” she spat. “All these years, you didn’t think I’d be the first one to support you? I mean, my best friend is a gay fashion designer—and he’s French! You didn’t think I’d get it?”
Although January certainly wasn’t upset by the facts, Charlie’s negligence in telling her pissed her off.
“Well, I always felt like Mom should know first—before I blabbed to my baby sister,” he attempted to explain, but January turned away. “And…I always thought you knew.”
“I had my suspicions, but I never assume someone’s sexuality until I hear it directly from the horse’s fucking mouth!” she shouted. Oh, she was so thankful that at least he told her in an open field with not a soul in sight for miles. “I mean…you were the one who always helped me color my hair when I was a teenager. And…okay…you did go with me to pick out my prom dress. And…did my make-up. But I wasn’t about to make some grand assumption. It was your place to tell me!”
“Jan, you just weren’t there!” He had no intention to insult her; he just spoke the truth as the words fell from his lips.
When she started to tremble, Charlie panicked, and as her tiny body shook with sobs, he reached out awkwardly and slung his arm over her shoulders. Now more than ever, Charlie wished he understood women better.
“I have been such a horrible sister,” she wailed. “Sister, daughter, aunt…”
“Hey…stop it.”
“Now you sound like Nigel!” she accused dramatically. “Stop crying, January. Everything will work out, January. Now that you’ve realized you’ve been an asshole for the last fifteen years.”
“Hey, you are not an asshole,” he assured her. “You always were—and you always will be—my favorite sibling. I love you a hell of a lot. And you know damn well that’s not easy for a man in the Gallimore family to say.”
“It just kills me—knowing what you must have gone through. And I could have been there to support you.”
“Part of that was my own doing.” He looked at the bottle of wine and took it back for a swig. “Damn, I knew I shoulda brought two with me.”
“It’s good stuff,” she said and held out her glass for a proper refill. “But…but I wish you would have said something. Or maybe I should have said something.”
“You did nothing wrong. It was just a strange situation for me. I mean—look at where we live. Look at this family. If you’re not an Alpha male, and heaven forbid if you don’t like women—”
“You don’t like women?” she challenged. “I’m a woman. Mom’s a woman. Hell, you love Cher. Oh, fuck…Cher! That was the fucking dead giveaway. I should have said something…”
“Okay, enough.” His patience waned to full-on exasperation. “Do you want some answers here?”
“Yeah, I do,” she whispered. “But first I want you to know that I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
“You didn’t do anything that someone else in your position would have done. You caught the first bus outta here, and you did something with your life. I know that when you left, it killed Mom and Dad, but maybe if they would have handled it better and gave you some support, you would have come home.” All those years had passed, and January never realized how much her brother truly understood her decisions. “I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”
“Come on, Charlie…”
“You had the balls to do what I never dared to do. That’s admirable.”
Twisting the hem of her sweater, January wrestled with her thoughts. She didn’t so much need to process the fact that her brother was gay, but she just had to figure out how this now all fit into the grand scheme of her attempt make amends.
“Just talk to me. I want to know all the details. When did you realize it? When did you tell Mom? And are you dating anyone?”
Of course, she threw the three most obvious questions at him at once, and Charlie didn’t know where to beg
in. Typical Gallimore, he shrugged and shook his head. “I think I always knew, but I didn’t do anything about it until I was in my twenties. You remember…I sort of dated Stephanie Ryan…”
“Steph Ryan?” January bellowed. “My best friend from grade school? Oh, dear lord…don’t tell me any details...”
“I thought you knew. It wasn’t long after you went to New York. I was trying to prove myself. And we just—”
Plugging her ears, January shook her head from side to side. “Uh-uh. I’m not listening.”
“Well, then, I rediscovered Joshua, the football player…”
“Josh Abernathy? You did Josh Abernathy? The star quarterback?”
Mocking flamboyance, Charlie waved his hand. “Um, he wasn’t no quarterback in bed, honey…and how the hell did you know he was gay?”
“First off, he turned me down when I was in search of one last fling in Baxter Springs before I left for New York,” January said, dusting off her pride in her racy reputation in high school. “He said I was too young and naïve—that was his excuse. Ha! Little did he know. Second…you never heard about Josh and Tyler Branigan in the shower? Charlie, did you sleep through high school?”
“How the hell would you know?” he challenged. “I was seven years ahead of you.”
“It was legendary at BSHS,” she insisted. “The story never died. It carried on from year to year. He was almost All-State, remember? He was the only celebrity to come out of that school…well, until I hit it big.”
“You know, I friggin missed you. Shit, I need a smoke. Why did I quit?”
“I’ll go with you to the gas station to grab a pack when we finish here.”
“We’ll have one of the nephews drive.”
“Good idea. But now…Mom? When the fuck did you tell her?”
“December 27, last year. I let her have Christmas, but I wasn’t averse to spoiling her new year.” Charlie moved his hand to his lip as if he were smoking. “Shit, where the fuck did we hide the pot plants in the fields?”
Now, she felt as if she’d been pushed to the edge of her leather seat. “Fucking tell me! How did she react?”
Charlie rubbed his arms as if he felt a chill in the night air. “Well, I don’t think she was surprised either, but Aurora wasn’t pleased. And Dad never mentioned it again. It’s like I never said a word.”
Even though her brother hated open physical affection, January wrapped her arm around his thick waist and pulled him as close as she could. Maybe she wasn’t there to comfort him when he told their parents, but she could be there now…and for the rest of their lives. “Tell me more about Mom. She was angry?”
“She was Aurora.” he said rather dismissively. “She didn’t say much. And it took her two weeks to tell me that she loved me again. I think she’s had time to sit with it, and as long as we don’t really discuss it, things are alright. Her main concern was if anyone in town knew.”
“Do they?”
“Only the three other men who frequent the gay bar four towns away,” Charlie said.
“Maybe I’ve just lived in big cities for too long—or I’m just so used to Xav’s world—but it shocks me that people are still so narrow-minded.”
“Welcome home, January.”
Heart heavy, she hated facing the realities of the world when it came to matters of those she loved. “Will you let me be there for you now?”
“I’d love that.” He tugged at her hair, just as he did when they were kids. “And what about you, little sis? What’s next for you?”
January thought she’d have an answer to that by now. “I don’t know. Seems I have some business to take care of on the other side of the ocean.”
“What happened with Etienne? Do you mind my asking?”
Regret figured into her emotions now. While she suffered no guilt in their breakup, she admonished herself for staying with him and wasting five years. However, she knew that things worked out for a reason. Perhaps, she had to suffer the worst of her fears before she claimed what she truly wanted in life.
“I need stability,” she said finally. “And honestly, Char…Mom’s right. It’s time I had a kid or two.”
“Hey, now, don’t just do that because Aurora wants more grandchildren,” he warned her.
“No, I really would like to have a baby.” She looked into her brother’s eyes. Charlie fidgeted, and she knew the conversation made him feel uncomfortable. Meanwhile, she could have used another glass of wine. However, it felt good to finally talk about her needs so unabashedly. “But I want it to be with the right man—or I’m quite prepared to take other measures.”
“Like adoption?”
“Adoption—or the old turkey baster method. Xav even said he’d make a donation…”
Wincing again, Charlie wrinkled his face. “Alright. I don’t need to hear this part…”
“Well, you asked, and I have some things to figure out.”
“What about this Nigel?” Charlie pressed her. “Is he a candidate?”
Gloom washed away from her face suddenly, and she replaced the uncertainties with a strong, bright grin. “I think he just might be…” However, her voice trailed off into the dark night. “Sometimes, I worry, though. He’s so loving—and affectionate. So smart and funny. He has the depth that Etienne always lacked. And he’s daring in the most adorable and awkward way…”
“Where’s the ‘but’ here? I hear it coming?”
“There really isn’t one,” she said and pursed her lips. “I worry if I’m good enough for him. He has an impeccably good heart.”
“So do you, Jan…” Charlie tried to convince her. “You don’t see the good in yourself.”
“Well, after hearing Aurora tell me how selfish I am for all these years, I’m inclined to believe her.” Now, in talking about her raw emotions with her brother, January remembered her own pain that she’d shuffled to the sidelines for too long.
“Yeah, but we both need to move past that, and you are. You’re here right now, aren’t you?” Charlie reasoned. “He’s younger than you?”
Sharply, she turned to him. “How do you know so much about him?”
“Honey, I follow your twisted little world online, and the Internet knows everything…”
“Sheesh, you know, I need to hire a better publicist,” she growled.
“I don’t know about firing your publicist, but I do think you better set your claims on Nigel before it’s too late,” he advised. “I’ve lost out on love because I was too afraid of the consequences, and I’d hate to see that happen to you. Be it with Nigel…or Etienne…or that damn turkey baster. I just want you to find some love.”
For January, there was nothing better than the wisdom of her older brother. “You know, Char, I think my trip home just paid for itself,” she decided. “I think you’ve just helped me to make a decision here.”
Charlie placed his hand over her heart. “Just do what’s in here, Jan, and you’ve got my support.”
She couldn’t resist another big hug and threw her arms around Charlie. “I love you, you know that?”
“And I love you, little sis. And I’m here for you…”
“Me, too,” she promised. “Now, let’s go get some more wine and some ciggies for you. We can carry this party to the old swing on the front porch when we get back.”
Turning the key in the ignition, Charlie laughed. “Sounds like a plan. And maybe we can talk about my visiting Paris…”
Images of her secret compartments and passages in her pied-à-terre whirled through her mind. She’d have some hiding to do first—like her antique bamboo canes in the foyer. However, when she stopped to really ponder a visit from Charlie, she realized that he just wouldn’t care.
“You got it.”
# # #
“Well, you’re up early for someone who didn’t get to bed until after two in the morning,” Aurora said as she heaped scoops of coffee into the old percolator that once belonged to January’s grandmother. That woman refused t
o get a modern coffee maker. The boys even bought her a Keurig for Mother’s Day, but Aurora insisted on using her antique coffee pot until it broke, and she could no longer find replacement parts.
It was still the best coffee January ever had.
“Oops!” January covered her mouth. “I guess Charlie and I made some noise on the porch. I’m sorry, Mom.” Wrapping her arms around her mother from behind, January gave her a squeeze. “You forgive me?”
Hesitation and silence marked the moment. “Dad said it reminded him of when you were kids,” Aurora finally said. “He said it was actually rather nice to see you two bonding again.”
Of course, her mother couldn’t say that she thought it was sweet—Aurora had to dance around and place the words in her father’s mouth. However, January already felt like they were moving forward.
They didn’t have the chance to discuss that tender moment as January’s phone began to ring. DOMMY popped up on the screen.
“Hi, there…” January answered.
“Good morning,” Nigel said softly. “Can you Facetime? If you have a minute…”
Another wonderful thing about Nigel was the fact that he never made assumptions. He knew she was home to see her family, and he didn’t want to disturb her. “Of course. Hit me right back…”
“Well, I’ll leave you to take that,” Aurora said and turned to make an exit, but January took her arm.
“No, stay. Please, don’t go…” With a shy smile, she answered the call.
Even though they had been so far apart for so long, January still felt like she’d spent time with Nigel thanks to the modern luxury of video chatting. “Hey, you. Listen, I have someone here that I want you to meet.”
“Oh, Jan, no…” her mother protested and pulled her apron up to cover her face. “January…”
“Mom, meet Nigel. Nigel, this my mom.”
Neither Aurora or Nigel expected an introduction so soon. However, he quickly broke the ice. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Gallimore. January’s told me quite a bit about you and Mr. Gallimore—and about the farm.”
SMITTEN (Paris Après Minuit) Page 39