by P. C. Zick
"What's in Florida anyway except a lot of water and a bunch of bugs," he would grouse whenever the subject came up.
"It's a paradise," my mother said.
"That's all you can say, huh?"
I agreed with my mother that the weather would be better for them in the south. But I kept quiet in front of my father. Even at this stage of my life, I avoided the venom from his mouth as much as possible.
During the summer of 1975, I decided to take a trip to Europe. I missed my annual treks and hoped that a trip abroad would be like a second honeymoon for Kelsey and me. However, when I tried to get Kelsey to come, she wouldn't even take a two-week vacation. The new corporate headquarters for Domino's were in the planning stages, and she was obsessed with the design. For the first time since our wedding, we would be separated for a month, which is all I thought I could reasonably manage without causing a rift in our marriage.
Elizabeth and Gary spent their honeymoon in London, Paris, and Rome. They managed a month away by themselves, but I hadn't seen them since their return. I wondered how everything turned out once they were out of the media glare and left on their own. They bought a new house in Grosse Pointe more in keeping with their highly visible lifestyle. Elizabeth hoped to land a job at one of the Detroit television stations as a news anchor and spent her days auditioning and making tapes. We planned to get together at Easter when they would come to Ann Arbor for the weekend.
Claire and Philip's social life had never been so active. I wondered when Philip would be retiring and made a mental note to get them to talk about something other than their wonderful daughter-in-law. I did notice the last time I visited them that the photograph of Kristina on the mantel was replaced with one of Elizabeth shaking President Nixon's hand during her reign and the final days of his presidency. I asked Claire about the missing photo.
"I don't know. It really became too painful to look at it everyday. I've tucked it away in the closet. Do you want to see the wedding pictures?"
So we pored over the proofs that she had to choose from for her enlargements. They were all gorgeous photos.
"Look at this, your mother, crying. I've never understood why anyone would cry when they're happy, do you? Crazy."
I wondered if Claire ever cried, period. I had never seen her shed a tear even in the worst moments after Pam left. She became depressed and sad, but she never cried.
Claire rambled on about Elizabeth and Gary. She told me that when they went to Europe they took ten pieces of luggage with them. This bit of news, she delivered with an air of haughtiness as if it was a badge of honor that they owned so many clothes. Another artificial watermark of success, I guess.
At Easter, Elizabeth and Gary seemed very relaxed. When Gary and I could, we slipped away for one of our walks around the neighborhood.
"So it's working, Gar?" I asked when we were into the second block.
"I think so. You know, Elizabeth is very sweet. She doesn't expect great things from me. Since she was a virgin on our wedding night, she probably doesn't realize that something's missing. But you know, when I'm with her, it's very tender, and I almost feel something. I feel the need to protect Lizzie. I've even stopped rubbing my fingers together. See?" He held up his hand to show me his perfectly manicured nails. No hangnails, no bleeding, no raw spots. Everything had healed.
"Yeah, Cuz, I think it's going to work this time." He slapped me on the back as we continued our walk.
I remembered I wished as much as Gary that Elizabeth would help him heal, as I drove around a little bit before I pulled into the parking lot of Susan's and Mom's apartment complex. I didn't want to carry my anger with Philip when I saw my mother. She was becoming more and more disoriented, and I needed my full concentration when dealing with her. When I entered the apartment, I heard her singing loudly in the kitchen.
"Mom, it's me, Ed," I said so she wouldn't be frightened.
I found her standing on a chair with her blouse and bra off and her arms high above her head searching for something in the cupboard above the refrigerator.
"Mom, Mom, what are you doing?" I groaned as I reached for her blouse flung carelessly on the floor.
"Hi, Ed. I'm just doing some cleaning here. I can't seem to find anything anymore so I thought if I rearranged the cupboards, it would be easier," she said turning around to look at me.
I tried not to look at her exposed breasts as I handed her the blouse. "Put your blouse back on, Mom," I said as she giggled.
"Now how did that happen?" she asked almost to herself as she began dressing.
"Where's Aunt Susan?"
"You know, I can't remember what she told me, but I know she was here earlier. Now, let me think." She put her finger in her mouth and stared off into space with a scowl on her brow.
"That's OK, Mom, let's have some coffee."
Susan came home soon afterward, and I could tell by her welcoming hug that she was happy I had returned. However, her happiness was short-lived.
After I told them both about Gary, I noticed that my mother's reaction seemed vague. I almost expected her to ask who Gary was, but she didn't. She just got up to make dinner.
Susan and I sat holding hands on the couch after she left.
"Aunt Susan, I know I have to do something about Mom," I said.
"Yes, I did want to talk to you about some things, but they don't seem important now somehow." She gave my hand a gentle pat. "We'll talk when you get back. Please tell Gary how much I've always loved him. I was always in his corner. Sometimes I hated my brother for the way he treated Gary."
"I know, and he loves you, too. I'll tell him."
She reached up and touched my face before getting up to help my mother who seemed to be pulling every pot out of the cupboard in search of something she lost.
I hated leaving Mom with Susan, but for now, I had no choice. I couldn't be in two places at once, and Gary needed me more than my mother right now. Susan was more than capable of filling in for me temporarily, but it still felt like I was letting someone down.
The next morning I pulled into Claire and Philip's driveway in near darkness, but with edges of light beginning to form on the horizon. I could see the kitchen light on through the open garage door, but the rest of the house stood dark.
As I began to get out of the car, Claire opened the kitchen door in the carport and slammed it behind her carrying a small suitcase and overnight case. I went to help her.
"Where's Philip?"
"He's not coming," she said. "He's decided that he couldn't visit without keeping his stupid mouth shut so I told him to stay here and wallow in his miserable self."
"I'm sorry, Claire," I said as I lifted her cases into the trunk of the car.
"Don't be. I'm the one who should be sorry for not divorcing him long ago when I discovered what kind of man he was. But then if I had done that, Gary never would have been born, and I wouldn't have had you as a nephew. That's my silver lining. Now, let's get going."
Claire always met life's challenges by seeking out the most positive parts of the world around her. Sometimes it meant that she dwelt on superficial things; other times it was a solace. At least Gary had one parent who could love him no matter what.
As we sailed along one of the longest and flattest stretches of highway in the Florida Panhandle, Claire and I talked about many things. I found myself sharing the details of my two failed marriages and my frustration at not being able to find someone with whom to share my life.
"Ed, you've always fallen for the wrong girl for you, that's all. At least you always understood that and didn't stay in either marriage making yourself or them miserable. Not everyone does that," she said. "Look at Philip and me."
I looked at her in surprise. "Thanks for saying that, Claire. I always saw myself as lacking in something other folks had. I never cared about the same things as either Kelsey or Allison."
"I envy you sometimes, you know? You never got caught up in the things that have made Gary unhappy and ev
en Philip and me. It seems we're always searching for something we can hold on to, like a car or house, to make us happy. You've never been that way."
"No, and it used to frustrate Gary, especially when he was married to Elizabeth,'" I laughed now at the memory. "But Claire I've done some things I'm not very proud of lately."
"Who hasn't? That's just being a normal human being. Ed, tell me something. It doesn't matter one way or another to me now, but I'd like to know before we get there. Is Gary a homosexual?"
"Aunt Claire, that's for Gary to tell you. I just told him I would tell you about his sickness. He'll talk to you now."
"I guess that's my answer. It does make sense now that I think about it. Pam, Elizabeth, no reasons for the end of the marriages, both wives leaving with no word to us. And your book? I just realized something. That was about Gary, wasn't it?"
"I used a lot from Gary's life to write it," I admitted for the first time.
"I must not have wanted to know at the time, but it all comes together now. Poor kid, he's really suffered for years, hasn't he?"
I turned to give her a grateful look. Gary made the right decision to have her come. Philip had made an even better one by staying home.
Finally, he found the shelter he had been seeking. The walls, made of cardboard and glue, protected him from the cold. When he saw her sitting in the corner, the warmth enveloped him as he approached her. He would stay here until the weather changed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We arrived in New Orleans, as planned, right at dinnertime. However, in Gary and Rick's apartment, there were no signs of dinner preparations. Rick let us in the front door. After the introductions, he told us that Gary was sleeping peacefully. The new medication left him free of pain, allowing him his rest.
"I want to sit by the bed; I won't wake him," Claire said after the report.
"Of course, Mrs. Townsend, whatever you want is fine," Rick said.
"Please, Rick, call me Claire."
He held out his hand to her, and they walked down the hallway to the back bedroom joined together in their mutual grief.
I tried to prepare Claire for Gary's appearance, but no amount of telling ever prepares a person to see a loved one in the last stages of life. Rick said she faced the reality with a tiny gasp and a hand brought to her mouth. Immediately, he said, she pulled the chair next to the bed and sat quietly with her hand resting on Gary's. He left them like that and came back to the living room visibly moved.
"You told her everything?" Rick asked me.
"She figured out most of it. I told her Gary would have to answer her questions since I promised to just tell them about the illness."
"Where's Philip, darling?" he asked, feigning the limp-wrist stereotype of gay men.
"Couldn't handle it, I guess. He got pretty upset yesterday. Actually, if you knew Philip, you'd know that it's better for Gary this way. He'll be hurt when he finds out his father didn't come, but believe me, if he had come, you both would be hurting more. Gary doesn't deserve to die that way." I finally said it. I verbalized the word "die" in regards to Gary. Somehow, the mention of it made it seem all the more real and terrifying.
Rick covered his face with his hands and quietly sobbed. I didn't know how to comfort him in my own grief, so we just sat there, already mourning the man who lay a few feet away, no longer fighting the demons that tortured him.
An hour later, Claire staggered out of the room and came to sit by me on the couch.
"He's still sleeping. How long will he sleep, do you know, Rick?"
"Maybe, if he's lucky, through the night. Before I go to bed, I usually check to see if the bedding needs changing, though. With his new medication, even that doesn't wake him."
"Oh, God!" Claire's agonized cry hung in the air for a long moment as Rick's words sunk in. Gary could no longer manage his bodily functions, and this man before us dealt with it.
"What about the hospital? Shouldn't he be in the hospital?" Claire asked once she’d composed herself.
"They're afraid of AIDs patients, actually. When he was first diagnosed, he was in the hospital. After the staff found out, they left Gary alone. Only after I ranted and raved would someone come in to care for him. This is better."
"Aren't you afraid? I mean isn't it highly contagious? And you're changing his sheets?"
"I use gloves, and I've read everything I can about the disease, which isn't much. It's not caring for him now that scares me. I get tested every few months, but so far all the tests have come back negative."
"Thank you, Rick, for taking care of him," Claire said, as she leaned forward to touch his knee. "If you have any of that reading material here, I'd like to read it tonight. I don't think I'll be sleeping much. If you've got more gloves, I'd like to help you tonight, too."
"Thanks, Claire. Gary always said he had the 'bestest' mom in the world. I never believed him until now." They smiled at one another coming to an understanding that bonded them in their love for Gary.
"Where's Kristina?" I asked.
"She's been in and out. She's not handling things very well. Maybe you could talk to her, Claire?"
"I can try. Where is she right now?"
"Probably at her apartment. Give her a call; she could probably use a friendly voice about now. She hasn't been able to go in the bedroom, you know. She comes over, asks about him, but says she doesn't have time to visit. It's hard to explain to Gary without upsetting him."
Claire left to call her granddaughter while Rick and I went back to our silent vigil. I had come to respect Rick more and more over the past few years. I was glad that Gary had someone to love him at the end.
Later that night, Claire and Rick went into the bedroom. Together, they rolled Gary to one side of the bed and then back to the other side replacing the soiled sheets and mats with clean ones. Gary didn't open his eyes during the process, they told me. Claire decided she would spend the night in Gary's room sitting in the chair by the bed. Rick didn't argue.
When I woke in the morning, I peeked in the bedroom, and Gary and Claire were holding hands and talking to one another very quietly. I shut the door soundlessly and left the mother and son to their private conversation. I went back to the guest bedroom and wondered at how differently things had turned out for Gary and me. Gary's slide had been more dramatic and visible than mine, especially now, but I had sunk to lows that no one knew about but me and, of course, Kristina.
I sat on the bed and wished I could pray or wished that something like a prayer could help me. Instead, I remembered a time filled with great changes in both my life and Gary's.
I went to Europe alone during the summer of 1975. Because Kelsey couldn't or wouldn't come with me, I only stayed for a month. I saw much of France, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy by rail, staying only a night or two in each place. Before I left, I completed what I thought was a final copy of Looking over his Shoulder. During my travels, I kept a journal, but with no particular object in mind. I decided to take an hiatus from my second novel, which had begun easily but now stalled as I began to realize that Kelsey and I were drifting apart. Her days as a college radical had changed as quickly as the country's mood at the end of Watergate. Her interests turned toward making a living and ignoring the rest of the world as much as possible.
The respite provided me with long stretches where I could think about my life and its direction. By the end of the month, I felt quite ready to head back to Ann Arbor, satisfied with my work and determined to get back on track with my wife and my writing.
However, I came home to a different Kelsey. In my absence, she traded her '67 Volkswagen Beetle for a brand new Volvo. She assured me she could afford it because she had just been promoted and given a great raise.
" I'm shocked you would buy such a big item as a car and not even discuss it with me," I said, feeling rather hurt at this seeming deception.
"I knew what you'd say, 'Why spend so much money on a vehicle? My dad could get us a good reliable Ford with his e
mployee discount.'"
"And, he can. What's wrong with that?"
"Ed, just forget it. It's my money, and I wanted something dramatically extravagant for once in my life. Let me enjoy it," she said, making me feel like the neighborhood bully who had stolen her Halloween candy.
"I'm sorry, Kelsey. You surprised me. It seems like a big decision."
"I'm sorry, too. Next time I'll warn you before I make a big purchase," she laughed, and I wondered what other surprises would come my way.
"Pam called a couple of times in the past month,” Kelsey said. “Can you tell her about the time difference? I think she's calling from out west someplace. One night I complained about the lateness of the call, and she said something about it only being nine o'clock. I know she drinks, but I think she was serious.”
"Did she leave a number?" I asked.
"Nope, but the last time she called, last week, I told her to try calling tonight since you'd be home. I asked her to call at seven or eight o'clock her time, and she agreed. I guess she might have gone to California?"
"Maybe. Sorry she woke you, but I'm glad she's trying to get in touch with me. I feel kind of responsible for her and the kid."
"I know you do, although I can't say I've ever understood why, but at least you stand by people. I hope you'll always stand by me, too," she said.
"You first of all. But why do I need to stand by you? I'd like to lie by you instead," I said as I took her in my arms.
Making love with Kelsey after such a long time felt like I'd really come home. I forgot about her new shiny car in the driveway, and I hope she forgot about everything else as we discovered that there's no place like home. After several hours, we decided to make Domino's work for us for a change so we ordered pizza. At 10 p.m., the phone rang.
"What do you know. She followed directions," Kelsey said with a mouthful of pizza.
I playfully slapped her leg and reached for the phone determined this time to find out where Pam and Kristina lived.