Outside Looking In: A Browerton University Book

by Truman, A. J.

  “Is that dress new?” he asked.

  “I got it a few weeks ago. Isn’t it nice?”

  “It’s a bit short, don’t you think? I can see above your knees. It’s too revealing. You’re a young lady, Franny.”

  “It’s the style, Grandpa.”

  “What have we talked about? There are many things in our culture that may be popular, but are not acceptable. I think you should go upstairs and change into something more suitable for dinner.”

  “But Grandpa, I like it.”

  “Don’t talk back.” Pastor Fry didn’t raise his voice, but that didn’t make it any less intimidating. “Upstairs and change now.”

  Nathan looked down at his empty plate, hating that he caused this drama. He had seen revealing dresses in London, outfits that would give Pastor Fry a real heart attack. Franny’s dress was fun, but not reckless. Liam seemed to sense his guilt and gave him a supportive knee squeeze.

  Mark rushed past him. “Is there a problem?”

  “Mark, how could you let your daughter wear something like this?”

  “What? It’s a lovely dress. I don’t see a problem with it.”

  Nathan did a silent cheer for Mark.

  “It’s okay, Dad. I’m going to change,” Franny said with a flatness that made Nathan believe this was a regular occurrence. It was like when Nathan’s paternal grandparents made racist remarks and Nathan just rolled his eyes because there was no use trying to have a real discussion with them about it. She ran upstairs before anyone could say another word on the subject.

  “Sorry,” Nathan mouthed to Mark when he came back into the dining room. Mark emphatically shook his head no, like he had nothing to apologize for.

  Once Franny came back down wearing jeans and cotton sweater, everyone took their seats. Nathan sat in Mariel’s chair, and his grandparents sat across the table in Franny and Walt’s seats. The kids used folding chairs.

  Mark brought a water pitcher to the table. “I’m glad that Grandma and Grandpa could join us this evening. It’s always a pleasure when they drop in.”

  “We miss seeing you at weekly services,” Pastor Fry said. “You should come back to a real church, not that naff place you take the kids.”

  “We’ll take it under consideration. Would you care to say the prayer tonight?” Mark asked.

  Pastor Fry proceeded to recite a traditional, bland version of grace. There was no flair, no personality like there had been with the rest of the family. Liam liked to incorporate lyrics into his grace, while Walt always made sure his rhymed. Pastor Fry had the authoritative, booming church voice that made Nathan feel like he was stuck in a pew for midnight mass.

  “Amen!” Brenda said, with the others following shortly thereafter.

  They dug into steak and potatoes with a side of vegetables. It was the plainest meal Mark had ever cooked, though still tasty.

  “Mark, you should try cooking mutton. It is so tender and juicy,” the Pastor said.

  “We don’t eat lamb,” Mark said. “We raise them.”

  “Our parents only raised sheep for wool, never for meat,” Liam added.

  “Well, that’s ridiculous. You are missing out.”

  Liam plunged his fork into his potatoes extra hard. Nathan gave his leg a stealth squeeze under the table.

  “Nathan, I can’t help noticing your accent. You’re not from around here,” Brenda said with a teasing smile. “Do we have a Brit in our midst?”

  “We do,” he said. “I am doing some traveling and have stopped in New Zealand.”

  “And decided to work on a farm?” Pastor Fry shoved a forkful of meat in his mouth.

  “Nathan’s preparing for a movie role,” Walt said.

  “Yes! A small, independent film.” This was the type of smalltalk that Nathan could never do without being completely smashed. “It’s very different from my prior acting work back in London, but I’m excited about the challenge.”

  “You’re from London?” Pastor Fry asked.

  “Born and raised.”

  “You were born there?”

  “Correct.”

  “Are you at university?”

  Pastor Fry shot out questions rapid fire. Nathan got the feeling that was how he was with everyone.

  “I am not. I took some time off to travel. I wanted to travel now when I’m young.”

  “Lovely,” Brenda said. There was a quiet current under her words, not as bubbly as she was on the couch. “I wish we’d done more traveling when we were your age.”

  “How old are you, Nathan?” Walt asked, one of those random questions kids didn’t know to hold back.

  “I turned twenty-two back in May.” Nathan checked across the table to see if that rang any bells for his grandparents. The moment got so quiet he could’ve heard a pin drop.

  “Happy belated birthday then,” Pastor Fry said with a polite smile. He and his wife turned their attention back to their food, Walt regaled the table with a story about a spider in his room, and it was like whatever moment Nathan thought he felt never happened.

  “Really great dinner, Mark!” Pastor Fry said.

  Liam

  “You have the patience of a saint.” Liam pulled a freshly-scrubbed plate from the sink and handed it over to Mark to dry. He looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody else was in earshot. “If they were my in-laws, I would move and not give them my new address.”

  “They are the grandparents to my children.”

  “That’s only a fluke of genetics. Did you hear what he was saying about Franny’s dress?” Liam wished Pastor Fry and Brenda had seen when Franny first showed it off to them, how new levels of confidence radiated out of her. Watching his niece deflate in front of his eyes because of their words infuriated him. He added it to the long list of things he couldn’t stand about the Pastor.

  “They’re just from a different time,” Mark said, forever the mediator.

  “A different century. Whenever they come over, they always criticize your parenting or complain about something.”

  “So do you,” Mark said with a teasing smile. Liam made sure there was dishwater in the spoon he handed to Mark.

  “Oops.”

  “That’s what in-laws do. It’s because they care.”

  “Mariel didn’t seem to think so.” Liam wanted to take back his words, but he knew that his late sister-in-law would agree with him. She always seemed to have this look of barely concealed frustration, even hatred, whenever Liam saw her and the Pastor together. “She was the one who decided that you and the kids should stop going to their church. And remember those stories you used to tell me about what a rebel she was in high school, changing into dresses in the parking lot that were a lot more revealing than what your daughter had on.”

  That was before Liam was born, but Mariel had showed him pictures of her teen years, and she totally would’ve tried to get him to smoke cigarettes with her behind the school. In a way, she kind of reminded him of Nathan. They had the same hint of mischief in their eyes. They even held their cigarettes in a similar fashion. Although if Liam’s father had been a conservative preacher, maybe he would’ve tried to rebel, too.

  Mark balanced the final serving dish on the drying rack. “Mariel’s relationship with her parents was complicated, but they loved her deeply, and they love those kids just as deeply. They just want the best for them. We all do.”

  “I think their version of best and our version of best are not the same.”

  Mark put down his dishtowel and heaved out a breath. Having saint-like patience was not for the weak.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”

  “Nathan seemed to like them,” Mark said.

  “He did.” Liam thought about all the questions he asked the Pastor and how eager and friendly he seemed when chatting with Brenda. It was cute.

  “Things seem to be going well with you boys.”

  “What?” Liam dropped his sponge in the sink. It splashed a few droplets in his face. “What do y
ou mean?”

  “With lambing.”

  “Oh, right. Good as gold. Listen, Mark. There’s something I need to tell you. Or rather, that I want to tell you.”

  Mark turned to him, his face switching to concern in a blink. “What is it?”

  Liam had been both looking forward to and dreading this moment. He didn’t like keeping secrets from his brother. “I’m—I’m bi.”

  “You mean bisexual?”

  Liam nodded yes. Mark nodded as well.

  “I think it’s been something that’s always been there. And Nathan’s helped me…discover it.”

  Mark nodded again. His apparent stoicism was burning a hole in Liam.

  “Well, out with it,” Liam said.

  “Do I say congratulations?”

  “If you want to.”

  “Congratulations, then.” The smile that broke out on Mark’s face made Liam exhale a massive sigh of relief. “Wonderful news.”

  They hugged, getting dishwater stains on each other’s clothes but not caring in the slightest.

  “I know it’s a surprise,” Liam said.

  “It’s not.”

  “It’s not?”

  “I could tell something was percolating with you and Nathan.”

  “You could?” Liam felt his ears get red. Maybe they weren’t as careful as he thought.

  “I’ve noticed how you look at him, like you’re constantly pinching yourself that you get to spend time with this person. I don’t care what gender the person is who’s able to make you feel that way. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

  “Since Kelly?”

  Mark flicked a stray soap bubble off Liam’s beard. “Happier.”

  Chapter 20

  Nathan

  At three the next morning, two ewes went into labor at the same time. It was almost as if they were competing with each other for who could have the loudest, most painful delivery. Liam even shushed the ewes at one point, worried they would wake up his family. Nathan had gotten over any kind of squeamishness he might have had about the lambing process. The ewe this morning had one breech birth, and Nathan didn’t blink when it came time to turn the lamb around inside the uterus.

  After the early morning births, he and Liam took turns napping during the day. He didn’t know how Liam was able to handle lambing season on his own last year. Nathan watched him sleep peacefully, sprawled out cold against a bale of hay, his chest rising and falling with breath. He would have moments like these on the farm, times when he caught himself looking at Liam for no reason and feeling a pang of tenderness in his chest at whatever he saw. It wasn’t as if Liam was bent over or shirtless, although those were wonderful moments, too. Liam would be writing out a grocery list at the kitchen table or giving one of the lambs a checkup and Nathan would feel a bolt of heat feeling rush through him. And then when Liam would look up and cock an eyebrow at him? Damn.

  Rather than question them, he savored these moments, even though they were followed by his brain reminding him that this connection was built on lies. It was like the housing development in Poltergeist that was built on a Native American burial ground. That did not end well.

  Later in the afternoon, post-nap and post-impromptu literal roll in the hay with Liam, Nathan headed over to the house to run lines with Franny and give her notes on her performance. Each time they met, he had less feedback for her. She was taking to acting like a fish to water, turning the living room into the Globe Theater. Nathan couldn’t help but think that her talent was genetic. It was something else that connected them.

  “You want to be serious when you say this line. It’ll get a big laugh,” Nathan said. “You don’t want to hint that you’re in on the joke at all. That takes away from the humor. I need to believe that you are convinced that you will marry the prince. Make me believe, Franny.”

  Franny nodded with her big eyes taking in every syllable of feedback.

  “I can’t believe I’m being coached by a real, professional actor. When will we get to see you on the big screen?”

  “It takes forever for movies to get released. They have to edit, put in sound effects, dub in any muddled dialogue, and then the studio decides when the most advantageous time to release it will be, which could be a year or two from now. And my part might get cut completely.”

  “Like Coco the housekeeper in The Golden Girls.”

  “Precisely. Where did he go after the first episode?” Nathan shrugged. “It’s the nature of show business.”

  “My mum once told me about how she was an understudy in a production of My Fair Lady, and when Eliza got sick the day before opening night, Mum had to take her place, and she received such great notices that they kept her in the part.”

  Our mum was a total badass, he thought.

  “I think she even has the reviews clipped out in one of her scrapbooks.”

  “She kept a scrapbook? That’s adorable,” Nathan said. He had started one for his early performances, but his stepmum threw it out during one of her spring cleaning purges. The only thing she hated more than tasteful décor was clutter.

  “Not a scrapbook. Several. Mum was a complete pack rat. She saved everything.” Franny laughed to herself. Nathan gave a stage laugh while other thoughts circulated in his mind.

  Mariel kept everything. Including the photograph from the Oasis concert. Who kept a random picture of a random mate she shagged at a random concert? If she was such a packrat, Nathan wondered what else she kept from that time in her life.

  “Did she save receipts going back ten years and craziness like that?”

  “Probably. There’s so much junk in the basement. We tried keeping it in the attic, but Dad was afraid the ceiling would cave in.”

  The basement. Nathan remembered it’d been mentioned once before over dinner, but he didn’t realize it contained treasure troves of Mariel’s stuff. He had passed a door by his bedroom and always assumed it was a closet.

  His mind spun with what could be down here, the truth about what happened waiting to be found. Even if he had the basic facts—she cheated on her boyfriend and left the evidence back in London—Nathan still wanted to know why. Why was she such a wonderful parent to Franny and Walt yet couldn’t be bothered to check in once with Nathan? Why was he so unlovable?

  “Honestly, we tried going through her stuff but there was so much and…” Franny got quiet, a spell of grief overtaking her like storm clouds rolling in. She pulled her knees up to her stomach.

  “It was too painful,” Nathan said.

  “I started bawling at the first box. It was old birthday cards Walt and I had drawn for her. She saved every single one.”

  “She sounds like a great mum.”

  Franny wiped away an errant tear. “What was your mum like?”

  Nathan could’ve given her an easy answer, another story to spin, but the words got caught in his throat. His own grief spell snuck up on him. Could you miss someone you never knew? Franny’s face shifted slightly, sensing the difficulty he was having. They spent a moment in joint silence that brought them closer.

  “Eventually we’ll go down there and sort things out,” Franny said. “But not today.”

  “When you’re ready,” Nathan said, looking at a family picture hanging on the opposite wall, wishing he could tell her that he’d been waiting his entire life and he was ready now.

  Franny rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Nathan.”

  Liam

  Liam had finished his farm chores early and was taking advantage of the alone time to work on one of his freelance graphic design projects. The farm was at peace, which would not last long. But disruption didn’t come from one of the sheep.

  Callum did the knock-and-twist and didn’t wait for Liam to let him in. That was only charming when Nathan did it.

  He barged through the door flanked by their two brothers Oliver and James. Oliver had a beer gut and a perpetually sweaty complexion, while James had unkempt black hair, a double
-chin, and a mustache stolen from a 1970s porn star. Did Nathan really want this brother gangbang scenario?

  “Piglet, how’s it going?” Callum clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Nice place, here.” Oliver ground his fists into Liam’s shoulders, sending jabs of pain down his back, just as he had done since they were boys.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” Liam said. He drank the last drops of coffee from his mug. He would not be offering them any of his special locally roasted coffee.

  A fourth man in a suit pants and a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves followed behind them.

  “I realize we haven’t seen your new abode,” James said. He was shaped like a match, one long skinny frame with wild finger-in-socket hair on top. He looked around the premises. “Nice. Small.”

  “In real estate parlance, we’d call it cozy,” Callum said.

  “I reckon Piglet doesn’t need much room.” Oliver rubbed his fist in Liam’s head, potentially causing cranial bleeding.

  Liam couldn’t stop looking at the fourth man here with the rolled-up sleeves, like he was running for office. The man gazed out the front window at the field.

  “I’m Liam.” Liam stuck his hand in the man’s face for a shake. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Harold Grates.” The man shook it back. “This is a gorgeous piece of land you have. The view of the mountains in the distance is breathtaking.”

  His whole demeanor, whether he meant for it or not, chilled Liam to the bone.

  “Harold is the real estate developer I was telling you about,” Callum said. “He wants to turn all of this into a beautiful neighborhood. I brought him here to tell you more about his plan.”

  Callum had the type of restrained excitement that teenagers had at Christmas. They were just as eager as little kids for gifts, but did everything they could not to show such blatant excitement. Callum needed specially made contact lenses so he could have literal dollar signs in his eyes.

  Harold took an iPad from his briefcase. “I have some wonderful ideas for how I see this place. As you know, housing in Wellington is getting scarcer, and more families are angling to move out of the city into clean, safe neighborhoods.”