Memento Amare
Page 16
He'd raised an eyebrow when he saw Uncle Ben get out of a white Ford Focus, looking like a pissed off, fat snake. Pa headed straight for the front door, face so blank and glacial that Cole knew bad shit was about to go down. He stepped out onto the oak hardwood porch deck with Pa as Uncle Ben stormed up the driveway towards the limestone stairs leading up to the porch deck. When he and Pa were standing side by side at the top of those stairs, that was when the bad shit really went down.
"You sodomite," Uncle Ben howled at him, heavy-jowled face so red that it was practically a rotten purple. "You disgusting, filthy sodomite! I know what you really are now! You don't deserve the Cole name!"
Cole stood frozen where he was, unable to comprehend that he was being attacked like this in his very home, his one and true refuge from the rest of this vast, unfair, unpredictable, senseless world that abhorred people like him. He was a Ranger, he was a GATF agent and yet, watching Uncle Ben stomp towards them with such sanctimonious outrage like some damn appointed emissary of god, he felt like he was seven years old again while Uncle Ben loomed over him and rebuked him for spilling his warm milk on Uncle Ben's living room floor when he couldn't hold onto the slippery glass.
"Benjamin," Pa said to his older brother, low and distinct.
"Look, Dennis, Mary, you let me deal with this," Uncle Ben was now yammering to Pa and Ma who'd come out too and was standing pressed to Cole's left side, grasping his forearm with both hands. "Your boy may be a sodomite but there's still hope for him if he repents! I know this camp in Arizona that deals with those like him, I know people who can fix him -"
Uncle Ben went flying backwards from the violent shove to his left shoulder. Cole gaped at his uncle stumbling down the stairs and onto the mowed grass section of the front yard, at Pa (Pa!) stalking down the stairs like an even more pissed off mongoose that'd just discovered a venomous snake in its garden and wanted it dead.
"Don't you come near my boy," Pa said, low and distinct and dangerous. "My son is not a dog. My son does not need to be fixed."
Uncle Ben - who, in retrospect, really was a heinous bastard too full of himself - staggered upright and stomped right up to Pa as if Pa never said a word.
"What is wrong with you, Dennis?!" Uncle Ben snarled, poking Pa in the chest with a stumpy finger. "Why are you defending him and allowing him to bring shame to our family name? He's a wicked sodomite! He should be staying away from us! You should be denouncing him and his repulsive lifestyle! Disown him! It is the Lord's commandment!"
Again, Pa shoved at his older brother's shoulder. Cole could see the shock on Uncle Ben's face as he sailed backwards to land on his ass on the grass, the shock at Pa laying a hand on him twice.
"You say my son is wicked? You say I should be denouncing him? That I should abandon him?" Pa sounded as dangerous as ever while staring down at Uncle Ben, his hands loose at his sides, his back facing Cole and Ma. "Let me ask you this: when was the last time that my son forced himself on other people and tried to fix them when they never needed to be fix? When was the last time that my son advocated for the death and eternal suffering of a group of innocent people who are born the way they are? When was the last time that my son brought more evil into this world with ignorance and hate by twisting the Lord's teachings about love?!"
Pa's voice had risen at the end, louder than Cole had ever heard it. To Cole, it seemed as if the very air all around them was pulsing with awe, as if the entire universe had gone completely silent and was cowering under Pa's ire. Uncle Ben certainly was, gaping up at Pa as if he'd never seen Pa before.
"And you say it is the Lord's commandment that I abandon my son? My son that He gave me, just as he is?" Pa said, his voice cool and low once more. "I read the bible too, Ben. 'This is My commandment, that you love one another as I loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.' Do you remember that?"
Uncle Ben said nothing, still gaping up at Pa from the grass. Cole felt Ma's arm going around his lower back in a protective hug. Cole could feel the anger emanating from Ma too.
"A long time ago, my son told me that he was going to be a good guy. That he was going to stop the bad guys from doing bad things and hurting good people. That he was going to make the world a better place with other good people. He didn't need a damn book and the threat of eternal hell and a god that never answers to force him to choose that, to be good. He still doesn't. Do you know what my son does, unlike judgmental, cowardly hypocrites like you? My son lays down his life, over and over, for this country, this world and its people so it can be a better place today than it was yesterday. Even for people just like you."
By now Uncle Ben was back on his feet, stepping back when Pa took a step towards him. Pa's hands were still loose at his sides.
"You don't talk to me about evil, Ben, when you can't even see it in yourself. Now get the fuck off my lawn and don't come back until you're ready to apologize to my son, a hero and a good man."
"And you can forget about ever eating my magnificent six-layer chocolate cake again, Benjamin Cole!" Ma said indignantly, giving Cole's arm a squeeze. "Or anything else I cook!"
Cole tried to laugh, or even just snort. Damn, getting cut off from Ma's marvelous cooking forever was an appalling punishment worthy of hell's admiration.
Uncle Ben said nothing. He stared at Pa. Whatever it was he saw on Pa's face, it frightened him into quiescence. Then, when Pa said nothing either, Uncle Ben pivoted and scurried back to his car. Pa stood where he was and watched Uncle Ben reverse out of the driveway with a screech of wheels. Cole watched Pa, but for some reason, Pa was a mass of blurry, colorful blobs and his eyes stung even after he blinked a few times and his nose ached inside.
"Well." Pa turned around to face them, but Cole still couldn't see Pa clearly. "Didn't expect to give the neighbors a show."
"You'll be the talk of the town for days to come, honey," Ma said, and it took Cole longer than he should have to figure out that Ma was bantering with Pa, that the breach into his refuge caused by Uncle Ben was already healing with their tender humor and love as Pa trudged up the stairs to be with them.
"Maybe I should audition for that daytime soap you watch. I can be 'stoic dad who thinks everyone is ridiculous'."
"Oh, be quiet, you. You watch it with me all the time and you even root for those two lovebirds to stay together."
Cole felt Ma's hand stroke his upper back once. He turned his head to look at her but she was a mass of blurry, colorful blobs to his stinging eyes too. He thought that the state of his eyes, his heart had to be so evident to Ma and Pa, but they didn't point it out.
"Mary, are those fried chicken steaks ready yet? I'm starving."
"Almost. You two can set up the table."
Cole felt more than saw Ma step away and saunter back into the house. Pa was now to his left and one step below where he stood at the top of the stairs. As he turned back to the front door to follow Ma in, he felt Pa's hand grasp his right upper arm to give it a squeeze. He didn't look at Pa's face, but he wrapped an arm around Pa's loose shoulders as they ambled back inside. He thought, there were some things that needed to be said, and there were some things that didn't need to be, not with words. He thought, one day, one day he might be lucky enough to be even half as strong and good as Pa was.
That night in the living room, Ma would tell him that Uncle Ben must have learned about his bisexuality from Aunt Karen, who'd learned about it from Ma when she paid a visit four days ago (and just a day before he came back home). At the time, Pa was out for the afternoon with friends in the city. Aunt Karen had mentioned that their church was planning an impromptu protest for a new LGBTQA-friendly restaurant opening near Boystown and wanted Ma to participate, which led to Ma saying, "No. The people who'll work and go there, they're someone's family too. They're people like you and me and being gay doesn't make them evil. Leave them be." That led to Aunt Karen accusing Ma of being a false Christian, of being a wolf in sheep's clothing.
When Pa arrived home, it was to the sight of Ma sweeping the shattered remnants of a mug into a dustpan in the kitchen. She told him about Aunt Karen throwing a fit worthy of an enraged two-year-old, threatening to tell her husband and everyone else in the church about their 'wayward son' as soon as possible.
"Storm's coming," Ma had murmured with a sigh, after Pa shushed her apologies.
"Yeah," Pa replied, kissing her once on the forehead. "They better find shelter."
Cole was never upset with Ma for unwittingly revealing his bisexuality to Aunt Karen. If it hadn't been petty, he would have thrown a party over the fact that he never had to tolerate the presence of Uncle Ben and Aunt Karen (and their like-minded friends) in his life again.
Nine years after that confrontation with Uncle Ben, he and Aunt Karen have yet to show up at the house or communicate with Ma and Pa in any way. Pa seems fine with not speaking to his older brother anymore.
"Yes, Phelan," Pa had said with that legendary deadpan face, when asked how he felt about that, "I am utterly heartbroken that my valuable time will no longer be spent with a bigoted asshole who hates the son I love."
"Karen tried to make Phyllis get a six-layer chocolate cake from me on her behalf. I said, 'Phyllis! If you are my best friend, you will not give a piece of my cake to that woman'," Ma said next. "By the way, Dennis, Phyllis is coming over next Thursday with John for dinner."
Yes, nine years after that confrontation, behind the wheel of a GATF-issued sedan car with Clyde at his side, Cole thinks that Clyde's nervousness about meeting Ma and Pa soon is almost cute. He is also a wise man who knows better than to say that aloud.
"What if they don't like me, Phelan? It's possible!"
Dressed in a berry-red button-down and jeans, Clyde somehow manages to sprawl indolently in his seat even with the seat belt on, one arm slung on the passenger door's window sill, muscular thighs spread. Clyde's left hand is resting on Cole's thigh. Early afternoon sunlight is setting Clyde's spiky hair aglow.
"They will love you. I have no doubt of that."
Clyde snorts in disbelief. Clyde doesn't shift his hand away when Cole lowers his right hand from the steering wheel to grasp it. Clyde turns his hand palm up and threads their fingers together.
"That's easy for you to say. You're their son."
"And?"
"Well, I'm not! And they - they probably got this idea of me that's really, really, really different from who I really am."
Cole tries valiantly to not let his lips quirk up in an amused smile.
"Uh hm."
As expected, Clyde swivels that head of golden, lush hair at him and squints at him.
"Don't 'uh hm' me! I am making a very, very good point here."
Cole's lips twitch. He keeps his eyes on the tranquil, tree-lined and so very familiar road ahead.
"Which is?"
"I dunno, maybe they're expecting a suave, well-to-do guy in a pricey, tailored suit who speaks with a posh English accent instead," Clyde says. "Like, 'Hiya, luv! Fell arse over tit for your son, didn't I? My lamb chop and I are now all slaps and tickles and rumpy-pumpy. Oh look, just in time for tea and scones with clotted cream and jam. Lovely chin wag! Pip pip!'"
Cole doesn't just laugh at Clyde's terribly exaggerated accent (that sounds nothing like the Estuary English accent that he knows Clyde can pull off after training with the agency's Linguistics department). He also laughs at Clyde's absurd expression while miming the act of drinking tea from a teacup while sticking his pinkie out.
"That wasn't even close to a posh English accent! And 'rumpy-pumpy'? 'Pip pip'?"
Clyde cracks up too, covering his eyes with both hands and laughing copiously. Cole shakes his head, gazing ahead at the road again, still smiling. They'll be arriving soon. Ma and Pa are very likely waiting in the living room already, prepared with tea and slices of Ma's homemade cakes. (But he's not going to tell Clyde that, or Clyde is really going to think his parents are expecting an English man to show up with their son.)
"You know, just forty-eight hours ago, we were facing down armed guerrilla fighters in Colombia," Cole says.
"Yeah, well, I got a handbook plus three years of rigorous training in the GATF on how to deal with that," Clyde retorts. "I got no handbook on meeting my boyfriend's parents for the first time."
Cole shakes his head again but he's smiling outright now, his teeth gleaming, grasping Clyde's left hand once more on top of his right thigh. Yeah, as endearing as Clyde's jitters about meeting his parents are to him, he empathizes with Clyde. He had no handbook either about coming out to his parents or to anyone else, no handbook on any of the relationships he's had in his life. He knows how it feels to want to make a lasting, positive impression on people you respect, people you love when you have one opportunity to do it. He knows how nerve-racking it can be, wondering whether they'll still respect and love you in return or whether they'll renounce you and hate you after they've known you.
It was, after all, why he never told Clyde about his bisexuality, why Clyde inadvertently found out about it from Don instead. He'd convinced himself that being Clyde's colleague, Clyde's friend was enough. He'd convinced himself that he could bury his feelings for Clyde, that he could move on with someone else if he just gave himself the chance to do it and that was the only reason he accepted the offer of dinner from Agent Brooks. He can laugh about it now, but over a year ago, when Agent Brooks - Dave strode into his office and candidly asked him out on a date, when Clyde came in minutes later and saw Dave sitting there in front of his desk, he'd been mortified. He'd thought that that was it, that his moment of reckoning had come and Clyde, with all that internalized homophobia, would guess what was going on and snap right there and then.
Instead, Clyde simply stood at the door while Dave got up with a smile and said he would call later. Dave had given Clyde a nod on his way out. Clyde, on the other hand, gave Dave a glower that could have liquefied steel. At the time, Cole was concerned that Clyde was going to assume the worst about Dave and give him hell, that Clyde would question Dave about him and learn that his handler, his friend was what he loathed so much.
He hadn't considered the possibility that Clyde was jealous. Fiercely so, to the point that when Dave appeared at his office again two weeks after their spontaneous dinner in the mess, Clyde was already there on the couch and upgraded that glower to a full-on glare that would have made molten lava feel cold, that plainly said fuck off, he's mine and only mine. (God, the shiver that had gone up Cole's spine when he realized that, when he realized how much Clyde desired him, months before Clyde finally acted on it.) And well, it hadn't helped that Dave - honestly nice guy that he was and is, still on affable terms with Cole - was blond and blue-eyed and had a beguiling smile too.
Clyde had needled him for weeks about the guy after they went from being merely colleagues and friends to lovers. He saw through Clyde's act fast, saw the deep-seated insecurity that spurred Clyde to glean reassurance from him in such a puerile manner. He saw how intense Clyde's emotions became in the wake of accepting himself as the gay man he's always been, how deeply Clyde was allowing himself to feel now that he felt safe enough to do so, now that he had someone to catch him if he fell, to buoy him up with love and acceptance.
And now, rubbing the back of Clyde's fingers with his thumb, feeling Clyde squeeze his fingers almost painfully in return, Cole knows just how anxious Clyde really is. He knows how much of an effort Clyde is making to remain calm and blithe when they're minutes away from meeting Ma and Pa, how important it is to Clyde to have his parents' blessings. Once again, he's falling in love with this fascinating, unique, gorgeous man he somehow managed to meet and find in this vast, unfair, unpredictable, senseless world.
He rubs the back of Clyde's fingers with his thumb again. Clyde's squeeze of his fingers this
time is gentler, a wordless and unnecessary apology.
"You called me lamb chop," Cole says, face and voice deadpan. "Why not Chateaubriand steak?"
As expected, Clyde is distracted again and squints at him with poorly concealed amusement.
"Oh, oh, and here you are," Clyde retorts, lips tremoring with mirth while Cole starts to snicker, "making fun of my posh accent, Mr. Chateaubriand Steak."
"After a year together, I thought I'd at least be a Chateaubriand steak instead of lamb chop. Don't you think so?"
"Lamb chop is delicious, okay. Ya can't rank it like that! It's like ..." Clyde waves his right hand about and makes a face. "It's like saying pizza is more yummy than cheeseburger. Ya just can't do that."
"Pizza is yummier than cheeseburger," Cole says, deadpan yet again. "Especially deep-dish pizza."
Clyde squints even harder at him.
"You take that back."
"Nope."
"You take that back, Phelan Cole, or so help me, god, you will never eat another slice of your deep-dish pizza again."
"I still get to eat you, though? Yes?"
Cole doesn't have to look at Clyde to know Clyde's rolling his eyes in that adorable yet mischievous way that only Clyde can. He doesn't have to look to know that Clyde's also trying not to smile.
"Uh hm," Cole says, making a very, very good point of his own.
He huffs out an amused laugh when Clyde punches him on his bicep, just below the short sleeve of his white t-shirt. It's telling to him that Clyde doesn't gripe about him holding Clyde's hand once more, that Clyde threads their fingers together again and tightly.
"You'll be fine, sweetheart," Cole murmurs.
He turns his head to see Clyde gazing ahead with a vulnerable, boyish expression. Just a year ago, Clyde would never have permitted himself to be seen like this, by anyone. Clyde has come so far since then.