An Earlier Heaven

by D. W. Marchwell

  “’Kay.” William smiled and then brought his hands up to grip the security bar in front of him as the car started to move. “Here we go! Hang on, David!”

  David barely took his eyes off of William during the entire ride. There was something about this little boy’s enthusiasm for grabbing every minute of happiness that life had to offer that continued to keep David dumbfounded and amazed. He still had a hard time believing that this little bundle of energy was the same little boy who’d stood in front of him almost a year ago with his eyes downcast, seemingly defeated and lost. In truth, David found himself worrying less and less about William’s size; the possibility of William being short—like his biological parents—did not seem to be causing William any concern, so David and Jerry had stopped worrying about it—well, almost stopped. What had them concerned now was William’s lack of any social network.

  In many ways, David felt as if he’d been a part of Jerry’s and William’s family forever, but there were moments—such as sitting beside William on this ride—when he realized that he didn’t feel as if he understood this young boy at all. It had been a time for adjustments for all three of them, and during this time, they had grown very close to one another. Each of them had come to care for—and love—each other very much, and there had never been any question that Jerry and David would be there for each other and for William. But David was also enough of a realist to know that, sooner or later, William would not tell them everything, would cease to make them the center of his world, and would eventually choose to leave them out of certain important moments of his life.

  During the first parent-teacher interview that David had attended—at Jerry’s insistence—back in October, David and Jerry had both been surprised to discover that William had begun to fall behind in his homework. Being one of William’s former teachers and then one of his two dads, David had made the conscious decision to retreat into the background when it came to William and his new school. It was during that interview when David realized that William was changing; he was venturing outside of comfortable limits to see what else was out there. And at first, David had been happy to see William taking risks, trying his wings. But sitting there in front of William’s new teacher, David was filled with a feeling of dread; it filled him so quickly that he actually felt nauseous and had to curb the urge to run for the door. It took him several days to discern that what he felt had not been dread at all, but rather an inexplicable sense of solace when he admitted that William would always need him. It had been David who’d always been far too independent to admit that he could need anyone else.

  It was this independence that had cost David so many years of happiness, had kept him from giving his heart to someone else. And then William had arrived, and David had found it almost impossible not to let William in; David had found someone more lost and lonely than himself. William had had a way—and probably would always have a way—of endearing himself to everyone who met him. There was something about William’s sincerity that few people had been able to resist. So, why did someone so energetic and outgoing have so few friends? And then there was Cory. Did William see something in Cory that David and Jerry couldn’t? Had William been able to sense that Cory was in need of protection? Or was it all as simple as William having a crush on Cory? Jerry and David had never really discussed the potential for William to be gay or straight or even bisexual; it was a nonissue for both of them. William would become what he would become.

  It wasn’t William’s attachment to Cory—another boy—that worried David and Jerry, but rather the attachment to someone who seemed to be such a mystery. Both David and Jerry knew that every boy goes through phases of hero worship or adulation of someone other than a parent, but each of them also knew that there was the inevitable moment of disappointment. There would be that moment when William would come to realize that Cory wasn’t infallible, that Cory was capable of making mistakes just like everyone else.

  David knew full well that he couldn’t protect William forever, but still there was a part of him that wanted to keep this lovable, earnest, and endearing little boy for as long as possible.

  Chapter 12

  WILLIAM put his hands around his dad’s neck and waited for the feeling of exhilaration. He felt the first bounce and let out a little giggle. He felt the second bounce and felt his dad’s grip tighten a little around his small foot. When he heard his dad say three, William sucked in a breath and straightened his arms over his head. He felt himself fly through the air and dive into the clear, warm water of the deep end.

  He blew out through his nose, like he’d been taught at the boarding school so many years ago, and kicked his way to the surface. As his head broke the surface, he let out a whoop of delight, and then he swam back toward the shallow end where David had now joined Cory and Jerry. “David, did you see me?”

  “I sure did,” David said as his face broke out into a broad smile. “That was amazing. Maybe you’ll become a world-famous diver, huh?”

  “No,” William panted as he felt his feet touch the tiles of the shallow end. “Maybe a world-famous horse jumper?” He’d talked about his future with Opa Niels a couple of times, and once with his dad, but William didn’t know if he’d ever be able to decide on becoming just one thing; he wanted to do everything. “Or maybe a world-famous painter like Dad,” he said as he put his foot into his dad’s hands and his hand around the strong neck.

  “Good choice, son,” Jerry smiled at him and began his series of three bounces.

  “This will have to be the last one.” He heard David say as he counted along with his father. “Supper’s almost ready.”

  William went flying through the air again, found himself under the water again, and swam back to the shallow end, just like he’d been doing for what seemed like such a short time. They’d returned from the mall a few hours ago, and they’d spent most of that time here in the pool. “Cory,” William called as he approached the side of the pool where Cory sat. “You try, you try, Cory!” William pulled on Cory’s T-shirt. “Come on. My dad’s really strong. He can lift you, I know he can!”

  “That’s okay, Billiam; you can take my turn.”

  “No, come on, Cory, you have to try!” William pulled harder on Cory’s T-shirt.

  “No, thank you, Billiam.”

  “Dad, you can lift him, right?”

  “William, that’s enough. Cory doesn’t want to take a turn, and we have to dry off for dinner anyway.”

  “But Dad—”

  “William,” Jerry said as he raised his eyebrows and his voice, “that’s enough, now. You’re making Cory uncomfortable.”

  William looked over at his dad and then at Cory. He felt his face going red from embarrassment and the sting behind his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He didn’t want to be in front of Cory right now, didn’t want Cory to see the tears that would probably come anytime now. It had been a long time since William had done anything to make his dad angry, the last time being back in October when he’d been caught leaving his homework undone. He’d tried to explain that he understood everything and did really well on the tests, but Jerry had still been very angry that William had lied to him.

  He’d run off to his room after he’d been made to sit there, his eyes stinging as they were now, disappointment too much to bear. He could handle just about anything—had handled a lot in his young life—except the look of disappointment on his dad’s face or David’s.

  As he’d done that day in October, William found himself running to his room, the tears streaming down his face at the thought that Cory would be angry with him as well. He’d had enough time to change out of his swimming trunks and put on his favorite sweat pants and T-shirt before he heard the knock at his door. He knew it would be David; it was always David. It had been David who’d come to check on him that October evening. It was always David who came to check on him when he had a bad dream.

  “I’m sorry,” William said as he felt his face going red again.
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br />   “I know you are and so does your dad and so does Cory.” David sat beside William on the bed, his hand going immediately to caress his back. “No one is angry with you, William.”

  “Dad said I made Cory feel uncomfortable.” William looked up, trying to figure out what David was thinking. Were they really angry and David was just telling a white lie to make him feel better?

  “Maybe you did, but that doesn’t mean anyone’s angry with you.” David moved his hand to William’s head, his fingers, his touch familiar and comforting.

  “I didn’t want to cry in front of Cory.” William admitted finally.

  “Do you think he’d think less of you if he saw you cry?”

  William didn’t have an answer to that question. His first instinct was to say yes, but then he remembered David telling him in October that crying wasn’t a bad thing, and everyone needed to let out some emotion from time to time; sometimes, there was just so much built up inside that it had to come out somehow. Finally, he looked down at his feet and shrugged, not really sure if Cory felt the same way David did.

  “I think you know the answer to that question, William.” He looked up to see David’s smile. “He’s spent almost an entire day going on rides with you and playing with you in the pool. I think you know he wouldn’t think less of you. But what you may not have figured out is that Cory probably doesn’t know how to swim.”

  “Why didn’t he say something then?” William had never even considered the possibility that Cory didn’t know how to swim; he just assumed that all kids learned how to swim. “I could have helped him to learn how to swim.” William saw David smile again and felt David’s arms wrap around his shoulders.

  “I know you would have, William, because you’re a very special young man.” David’s fingers snaked around to his sides, William quite certain that David would try to tickle him to get him to laugh. This was how David tried to get him out of bad moods. “You’re the best son anyone could ever have and Cory is very lucky to have you as a friend, but right now…,” William squirmed when he felt David’s first efforts to tickle him, “we have to get you downstairs, so you can eat something and show Cory and your dad that everything is okay.” William managed to get away from the tickling, but was quite sure it was because David let him. “Okay?”

  “’Kay,” William said, as David stood up from the bed. After hugging him quickly, William ran to the stairs and headed to the kitchen.

  JERRY and Cory had just finished setting the table and were about to start dishing out one of Jerry’s favorite meals when William entered the kitchen, followed a few moments later by David. Jerry saw the smile on David’s face before focusing his attention on how William stepped up to where Cory sat and looked him in the eyes.

  “Cory, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I promise I won’t do it again.”

  Jerry’s heart skipped a beat at how earnest and sincere William was, and watched with rapt attention as Cory held up a fist. “It’s okay, Billiam, no harm done.” William’s smile was bright enough—from relief Jerry supposed—to light the whole mansion, and he lifted his own fist to bump it with Cory’s. “I guess I should have told you that I don’t know how to swim.”

  “That’s okay,” William said as he took a few steps back and looked at his dad. “Dad and I can teach you. I’m a really good swimmer. It’ll be my turn to help you like you helped me with soccer.” Jerry nodded at William and took his seat at one end of the small rectangular table. “My swimming instructor in Switzerland always said I must be part fish.” William laughed as he made his way to sit beside his dad. With a somber expression, William looked at his dad. “I’m sorry I made you angry, Dad.”

  “Not angry, son, just concerned.” Jerry wrapped his arms around William and stole a glance at David who had taken a seat at the other end of the small table. Jerry looked back down at his son and put his big hands on either side of William’s flushed face. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Love you too.”

  And with that, Jerry was happy to see that everything was back to normal. It was something he’d feared had to happen sometime today; William had a way of getting himself so excited that he seemed incapable of controlling himself. It was as if all of the filters in his brain shut off. It was something he’d been consciously working on with William, and—if Jerry were to be honest with himself—tonight’s little episode was probably as much his fault as William’s; he’d known it was a possibility, but not paid close enough attention to the signs.

  “Cory?” David’s voice snapped Jerry out of his own thoughts. “Before we eat, we like to join hands and then we each say our own silent prayer of thanks. But as our guest, we don’t expect you to join in, unless you would like to.”

  Jerry took William’s hand in his left and was quite surprised to see Cory’s hand come out and take his right. Jerry looked over and saw David smiling. As had become the custom, William’s amen signaled the end of the silent prayer of thanks and the rather less organized ritual of figuring out whether the food was being passed clockwise or counterclockwise, or whether it would just be passed around—as was usually the case—to the person with empty hands.

  Jerry made a conscious effort to ensure that Cory—as the guest—was offered most of the dishes first, but William managed to get to the bread basket before anyone else and was already buttering two slices before seeming to remember that they had a guest. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence for the McKenzie-Loewenberger clan to have dinner guests, but it was frequent enough that William would know to offer the bread to Cory before taking any himself. Tonight, however, Jerry didn’t have the heart, nor the desire, to point out yet another faux pas to William.

  “This is really good,” Cory said, or tried to say through a mouthful of food, and Jerry looked over to see Cory’s cheeks fairly bursting with food, wondering again—as he had during lunch—whether Cory ever got a decent meal at home. “This is almost as good as my mom’s. Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

  Jerry caught David’s brief glance at him and couldn’t help but remember that night when he’d learned about David’s grandmother, how she’d never known of his sexual preference and therefore, had never known to disown him like her daughter and son-in-law. Jerry smiled at the memory; it had been the night when he’d begun to see the future he could have with David and William. That had been the night when Jerry understood that he had been slowly falling in love, not only with David, but with the idea of having the family he’d always wanted. He’d never admitted that desire to himself, but something about the honesty and the compassion that David had shown in sharing that part of his life sent Jerry’s mind groping to explain the inexplicable urge to protect both David and William.

  “My grandmother was a very good cook.” David offered the large Dutch oven to Cory for the second time. “I loved being around her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cory whispered, taking the pot from David’s hands.

  “Thank you, but it was a long time ago.”

  “This is my very favorite meal.” Jerry offered as he passed the bread to Cory. “Actually, I don’t think there’s anything that David makes that I don’t like.”

  “Liver,” William grunted before stabbing another big piece of roast with his fork. “I hate liver.”

  “But you’ve got to admit, cowboy, that the way David makes it… it’s almost good.”

  “Never!” William stuck out his tongue and shook his head, as if to emphasize that nothing would ever make him like liver, in any form.

  “Liver’s good for you,” Cory offered after his own laughter subsided. “My mom used to make it with onions that she’d fry up with butter and a little bit of brown sugar. It was good.”

  Jerry looked over at his son, hoping that he hadn’t caught the used to, hoping that he wouldn’t begin to ask questions that Cory might not be ready for. David had explained to him about Cory not wanting William to know too much about his situation, not wanting William to know that he’d run
away because of problems at home. And as he looked around the table at his son and his husband, Jerry wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what those problems were. He didn’t want to think about what it would mean for Cory if there was no relative to take him in, like Jerry had been there for William. He didn’t want to think about having to live the rest of his life knowing that things didn’t always work out for everyone. Of course he knew they didn’t, but he’d never had one sitting at his table, sharing his food.

  “So then what’s your favorite meal, William?” Cory put down his fork while he waited for an answer. Jerry felt like laughing, knowing full well that his son wouldn’t have to think very long.

  “Lasagna!” William looked up at David, his eyes wide and his mouth full of bread. “Hey, tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  “We have lasagna on Sunday,” David explained as he looked over at Cory’s empty plate. He pushed the pot of beef stew toward Cory, and Jerry noticed how Corey looked around the table as if asking permission to have more.

  “Help yourself,” Jerry said as he sat back in his chair. “I’m not allowed to eat too much anymore. Apparently, I’m getting fat.” Jerry looked over at William, whose smile disappeared as he looked up at his father. “I’m just teasing you, cowboy.” Jerry looked over at David, the admonishment clear on his face.

  “There’s nothing wrong with beef stew,” David said as he stood and took first his plate and then Jerry’s. “It’s the desserts you have to watch out for.”

  Jerry swatted David’s ass as he walked past. “I know, I know.” He turned to Cory and shrugged his shoulders. “Just my luck I had to marry a gourmet cook.”

  “How long have you two been married?”

  Jerry noticed the genuine curiosity on Cory’s face. “David and I met a year ago. We were married last October.”