A PLACE FOR CLIFF (The Dominion of Brothers)
Page 16
“KIMMI!”
Her step yawed like someone calling her out of a dream to wake up.
“Kimmi!” Cliff cried out again just as he came up behind her. He quickly stepped in, and snatched her up in his arms, slinging her away from the water’s edge and carried her back up the stairs. The absence of the numbing cold replaced with an instant attack of a thousand needles pricking her feet. Pyotr was right there at the top of the steps, his coat off and he quickly wrapped it around her bare pink feet and rubbed at them as they carried her toward the car. She didn’t move or make a sound, just silent tears streaming down her face. Through blurry blues she could see the tension in her brother’s jaw. Cliff wanted to say so many thing right then but he kept them all inside. “Don’t.” was all he would allow himself to say at the moment as he squeezed her in his arms and kissed the side of her head.
Pyotr opened the door to the back seat and Cliff scooted in setting his sister across the seat and sat next to her taking her feet into his lap. At that instant he became her EMT. Her own personal nurse as he had always been, but his attentiveness didn’t stop there.
“What were you thinking?”
Kimmi’s thoughts buckled inside her as she spotted Pyotr’s eyes flicker back at her through the rearview mirror as he drove them home. She could see the lines around his face that etched out a deep concern for her and for Cliff. The man truly loved her brother and she knew her brother was head over heels for him. She didn’t want to be between them. Not like this. Despite her mental struggle to lock herself up inside, her lips began to quiver with the sobbing that threatened to come.
Cliff was occupied with rubbing the blood circulation back into her legs and feet. His scolding hadn’t stopped yet. “Just two hours ago the doctor told you to stay warm. You can’t risk getting sick if we’re to get through this again.” He grabbed up her wrist and stilled, checking her pulse. Not satisfied he moved his fingers to her neck. It wasn’t her pulse that was evading him; it was his own racing one that interfered. “I want to know what you were thinking.” His voice tightened into a demand.
“I don’t want to put you through this again.” She whimpered, “It’s not fair. Would it not be better for you if I ended this?”
Cliff’s face melted into one of sheer horror then melded into rage. “End this!? You think I go through all of this just so you can end this?” his hands went back to her feet and started rubbing again. Harder, it hurt and she winced. “I don’t want you gone! I want you to stay with me. It’s you and me remember? We didn’t get this far just so I could be rid of you!”
“I’m sorry.” Her sobbed kicked out with a hiccup.
Cliff fell silent. He was ready for plenty more yelling, but Kimmi’s face was streaked with tears now and he couldn’t bear to make more of them. He kept quiet the remainder of the drive, purposely avoiding Pyotr’s gaze that occasionally glanced back at him.
When they reached the house Pyotr took Kimmi, carrying her upstairs to her room, “Grab some towels from the linen and toss them in the dryer for a few minutes. There’s an electric blanket in the linen as well.” He gave the gentle suggestion to his lover before disappearing into Kimmi’s room with his precious load.
When Cliff came back up from the laundry room Pyotr was waiting for him.
Cliff diverted his eyes, but he knew his lover had something to say if he allowed him to say it. It was the one thing Pyotr never crossed into without open invitation. “You think I’m handling this wrong, don’t you?”
Pyotr stepped up taking his arm just below the shoulders. His grip meant to comfort rather than control, “Yes.” He looked at him, all that knowing and experienced etched on his face that moment. “You’re angry because she’s sick. You’re angry at your parents for leaving. You tell her she’s not to blame for this yet you yell at her for it. The action only reinforces her feelings that she is to blame for your despair.”
Cliff’s face went white and he swallowed hard, but kept quiet. What was there for him to say?
“Losing one’s parents in a singular instant is devastating to the mind and body. It is not easily forgotten, or healed. So for you to feel anger even now is natural. Especially with news of a reoccurrence of her illness. Yelling at her isn’t what either of you need. Don’t guilt her to live either.” Pyotr leaned in and kissed his lover on the forehead, lingering there a moment as if to transfer some of his love into the storm that brewed behind grey eyes.
At the sound of the buzzer from the dryer going off, Pyotr let him go to tend to his sister.
It was late when Cliff came down stairs from Kimmi’s room. “I didn’t expect you tonight.” Pyotr murmured to him holding his book out of the way as Cliff slipped over him on the sofa and buried his face into his chest without saying a word. Pyotr closed his book wrapping around his exhausted lover and exchanged glances with his brother Pavle who’d been talking with him about what they might be able to do to help Kimmi’s treatments and what would be needed there at the house. Pyotr had watched many of his patients slip away from illnesses. Cancer. Gulf Syndrome. Aids. But this was different. This was closer. And it tore at him painfully.
It was going to be the third time Kimmi would undergo chemo treatment in her life. And as Pavle had explained after looking up her medical records, they were able to see what Cliff had not yet disclosed. Her doctors were calling for an intense attack of chemo and radiation, full on dosages, as much as her body can take. It was all or nothing now. The plan was to shoot her with everything they had, then undergo another bone marrow transplant. Once it took, she would undergo the chemo again. It would be a brutal undergoing, but they hoped that the hard hit would set her back into remission, perhaps for good this time. Any less and the chances of recovery were slim this time around.
Pyotr felt the timer working its way down, his little family was running out of time and he didn’t want to miss any of it. He filed for a sabbatical at his practice, with the exception of a few special cases and notified all his brothers and baby sisters Thanksgiving was at the family home and everyone was required to come, with or without their families. He would not be denied this moment.
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CHAPTER NINE
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Pyotr made it easy for everyone to join him. He didn’t care what day Thanksgiving came on, what was important was having everyone together and to prevent competition with in-laws, he set the gathering for the entire weekend just in case a few couldn’t make it for Thursday.
The first to arrive was Pavle’s ex wife, Maggie with the kids, having come in the night before offering to help out with the food preparations. Maggie and Pavle though divorced were still close friends. They’d had a good life together but after the boys had grown up they came to realized they weren’t right for each other anymore and called it quits before the grudge could affect them. And of course there was the part that Pavle had been gay from the beginning. But family was family and the holidays were spent together.
Thursday morning Artyom, his wife Mira and their six kids arrived bringing with them the first rays of sunshine and as the day warmed up under the late fall sun that Thursday morning, the rest of the family began to arrive one by one.
Next in was Sasha and his twin lovers, Isaac and Isaiah. Shortly after was Trofim flying solo followed by the twin sisters, Varvara and Andjela.
Darko came in, he too was single, but he brought a date for the weekend with hopes of striking a deeper relationship with the man he’d rescued on the side of the road a few weeks back. Theirs was an interesting tale to tell. Maxum had gotten a flat. His new car for all of four hours and he didn’t have a clue as to where his spare tire was. Darko had pulled over on his chopper and fixed him up, but once his gaydar went off he claimed a rather bold reward and pulled Maxum in for a deep kiss right there on the side of the highway. His grease covered hands ruined the man’s suit. The penance was he could come over for a dinner date, bring the ruined suit and he’d pay to have it
dry cleaned or stand him up and he was on his own for the cleaning charges. Maxum showed up sans the suit.
Shortly after noon Jovan made it in with his two kids minus an ex wife who hated him along with the rest of the world. And then Rury and his flaming beau Liam.
Stanislav and his wife were the last to arrive, He looked exhausted as if he had physically dragged her and the car himself just to get there. Good chances his perception wasn’t too far off, given Stanislav’s wife Frannie’s disposition on gays.
Frannie had just reached the top of the stairs along with Stanislav and came to an abrupt stop at the sight of Darko enjoying a deep kiss with his lover. Her face twisted in an expression of disgust at them and cast it on the other men in the room who seemed too accepting of the act by her judgments. She took one look around the room and at the nine obvious gay men in the room, Pavle got off without an indictment in lieu of Maggie’s presence. But at that point what was one more fag in the room. Frannie turned tail and bolted out leaving a trail of curses and Hail-Mary’s of brimstone and a few other biblical things no one else seemed able to interpret. Stanislav of course followed after her. He hadn’t driven all the way from upstate just to turn around and go back. He hadn’t seen his brother Pyotr in a year, the visit long overdue and frankly he just needed to be here with his big brother. Stanislav, the eldest of the babies, had been their mother’s little angel. He had always been the sweet little boy in the pack and the most forgiving. Something his wife took full advantage of.
Pyotr followed them out, he wasn’t about to let Frannie ruin the weekend for the rest of the family. It had never been a secret that several of them were gay so it was absurd that she would arrive only to throw insults in their presence. He also saw the grave need in his baby brother’s face and wasn’t going to let that go unattended either.
Stanislav managed to catch his wife’s arm and pull her to a stop in the court yard under the trees. “Fran, wait. This is family. Can’t you give it a rest? Just for one day?” he pleaded with a tired argument. One they’d had too many times over the three years of their marriage. The fact that she’d had Pyotr and the others physically removed from the wedding ceremony should have been grounds enough to call the arrangement off, but he forgave her on the spot because he had not told her. He just never thought it was something that had to be brought up. He grew up with gay brothers—he thought everyone did. Until that day.
“Frannie, please it’s a holiday for family. Won’t you reconsider and come in to join us?” Pyotr called out to her before she reached the gate of the court yard.
Frannie spun around to snap at Pyotr, jabbing a finger up at his overbearing height, “You’ll burn in hell for your sins.”
Pyotr had never forgotten the hateful stunt she pulled at the wedding and even when he left the ceremony, Frannie didn’t let bygones be bygones. She made it near impossible for his brother to come visit and she stood fast on her religious beliefs. Her family’s open first class fascist insults and both religious and political catcalling were not the only values they tagged into the charge of impostordom. It also had disturbing logic that fell less then short of mad men.
That was all fine and dandy except the part that he should burn in hell for his sexual preferences and he’d since lost his patience for the argument with her. “Then we might as well learn to get along since we’ll be keeping each other company down there. Won’t we?” His voice tightened.
“Wh- What?” her mouth popped open in a morbid o shape, “Ah! How dare you.” her anger went from hot to volcanic at that instance.
“What Frannie?” his tilted, “Did you really think you could carry on with so much hate and not have to repent for it?”
Frannie’s mouth gaped open again. She wasn’t use to Pyotr sassing back at her. He usually threw some psychological jargons at her about unhealthy emotions or about her misplaced religious zealots to support her own fragile trust in the world, but to dare suggest that she would go to hell with him? Her hand went back with every intention of slapping the tall arrogant brother who thought everyone else had to bid by his command, but a firm grip from Stanislav on her arm not only stopped the assault, it called to silence further retort for a moment.
Stanislav’s exhausted mind drifted from the burden he could no longer bare, his eyes going up to the large picture window of the great room and his brothers, all lined up looking down at him. Darko’s hand went up against the glass reaching out to him. It ripped at his heart. He hadn’t seen any of them only Pyotr in the last three years and that was only once last year. He loved Frannie when it was just the two of them, but when others were around it wasn’t the bliss he had hoped and he missed having his family. Now with Pyotr having adopted Kimmi and having a lover, Trofim was back in the states, his brothers’ rowing team taking championship—so many thing he didn’t want to lose out on. Without even a thought his hand went up as if he could touch Darko’s still on the glass and then Pavle, Trofim and Rury and his two sisters. They all reached out for him. Only Sasha and Jovan were missing.
“Dinner is almost ready, perhaps we can all settle down for a peaceful evening in the dining room, so we can give thanks for the things we do have.” Pyotr’s voice switching to a warming welcoming. The gentle tone meant to change the mood, turn it into one more cooperative.
Stanislav felt her arm jerk from his grip, pulling his attention away from his family. He knew it was coming, he raised a hand out to beg her to keep silent, but the hateful words were already coming out and he was helpless to stop them. “I will not sit with a bunch of hell bound homosexuals and pretend to give thanks and neither will Stan.”
“If hell be damned then we are both going. I’ll keep a seat warm for you. But as of now your seat here has gone cold. I do not want you here, but Stanislav stays. I have precious little time left with my family. My brother will remain and honor me with his presence, while Kimmi still lives.”
“She dies because her brother is a homo like the rest of you!”
Pyotr turned red, his whole body clenched, his fists curling at his side so tight his knuckles turned white. “If you were one of my brothers I would surely throw you over my knee and tear your hide right now. As it is I want you out of my house NOW!”
Stanislav saw the raging pain in his brother’s face, and his heart clutched at the sight of the tear that streamed down Pyotr’s cheek. The strain so great he looked like it had taken him twenty mental bulldozers to prevent the explosion from happening.
Stanislav took hold of Frannie’s arm and lead his wife out to the car and forcibly placed her in the driver’s seat.
Frannie looked at the steering wheel then to her husband still standing outside the car, “You’re not leaving with me?” she dared to sound surprised.
“Frannie, do you love your parents?”
“What? Mom and Daddy? Of course I do—you do too.”
“Thing is, honey…” his lips rolled into a tight grimace, “I hate your parents. And I hate being around them, but I’ve put up with them for three years of holidays because I love you. Now I am going to stay here and frankly I don’t want you with me right now. I’ll be home in the morning.”
“Your bags will be waiting at the door.” She told him through pierced lips. Not one word hesitated as they came out as if she had rehearsed the line for some time.
Stanislav sighed, “Hopefully that’s not true, but if it is I’ll deal with that tomorrow, it will not change anything about today.” He straightened letting out a long painful sigh. He did love her, but living with her judgments on the world had taken its toll on him. He’d lived with it for a long time now, but he was not willing to give up his family as the price to stay with her. He couldn’t do it to Pyotr. And if she was right and God was turning his back on him because he was gay? Well then shame on him. Stanislav took another deep breath and did his best to let the love he felt show on his face, but he wasn’t sure she was looking for it. “Go home Frannie.”
He turned as his car drove aw
ay, nearly walking into his brother Jovan. He stilled meeting his eyes.
“You’d throw your life away for Pyotr just like that?”
Stanislav’s brows bunched up with anguish showing Jovan he clearly thought the question in itself was unacceptable. “He did it for us in 1990.” And he brushed past him not wanting to get into another discussion about the rights or wrongs of Pyotr.
Jovan starred after Stanislav, watching him head back inside. Stanislav had been too young to understand when they were forced to leave their home to come here to the states. If Pyotr sacrificed, he had it coming to him. It was his fault they had to leave in the first place. Papa had said nothing when he came back the night the soldiers drug him out of their home. But Jovan was certain it had something to do with Pyotr and his secret lover. Bad enough his brother chose to sleep with men, but to sleep with an Albanian one was far worse where they came from.
Jovan had learned to live with it but he had never forgiven Pyotr for it. The others had been young enough they were able to adjust but he was just a month away from graduating and he had a scholarship to join the university just as Pyotr had. All that gone. He couldn’t even pick up where he left off when they arrived to the states. He didn’t speak English. He practically had to start all over in school and he blamed Pyotr for that too.
As the family had gathered most of the brothers remained gathered in the living room catching up on news with each other and occasional trips to the kitchen to steal a tid bit morsel of something. The Macy’s Thanksgiving parade showed on the television in the background.