A Package Deal

by Mia Kerick

  It was clearly Savannah’s turn to speak. She looked extremely uncomfortable, which hit me as very strange, since she’d always appeared so unaffected when it came to her own needs. I’d always thought of her as a person who existed simply to meet others’ needs.

  So I just came right out and said it. “Tell us exactly what you need from a relationship with us, Savannah.”

  She shifted her feet out from underneath her, stuck them on the coffee table, and leaned her head back. “I thought I already told you.”

  “Tell us again, Savi. So we can get it right.”

  Both of us now had a hand on Savannah, mine on her thigh and Tristan’s over her hand. I urged her as well, “Go ahead. Tell us.”

  Taking care of her own needs was clearly as difficult for Savannah as it was for Tristan and me. “I just want… all I want is to belong with you guys.”

  We both held back our words, hoping she’d continue.

  “See, I feel like I need to help people, or kids, really. Not just like I want to, but that I need to.” She dragged her blue-green eyes from my face to Tristan’s and then back to mine again. “I guess I hope that helping them will heal me from the pain of what my mother did, or more so, what she didn’t do, when I was growing up.”

  I had to ask the question that was burning in my mind. “What about romance? Don’t you want a romantic relationship?”

  Savannah looked at me strangely, almost as if that thought had never crossed her mind. “No, no, not right now, at least. I mean, I’m not saying it’ll never happen, but there are other things that I need to do and I can’t give only part of myself to a man in that way. But I still need to have a family to stand behind me in the meantime. Someone I could bring a man home to someday, if I wanted.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. “How can we show you that we are your family? That we support you?”

  Her eyes filled and I saw in her expression the very same vulnerability that I’d seen so often in Tristan’s. “Just, when you guys think about me, no matter where I am, I want you to think of me as yours, like I matter to you. And if one of you has a problem, talk to me about it. Uh, and listen to me, like if I need to share.” She blew out a long, slow breath through her lips, almost as if she was a little kid trying to whistle for the first time. “I want to know that I’m really home when I’m with you guys.”

  These partners of mine had been so very damaged by the twists and turns that their lives had taken. And so far, my track record with them hadn’t been exactly stellar. But I knew now with an inexplicable certainty that I had been placed in their path to help right the wrongs they’d suffered. Beyond that, I was convinced that in devoting my life to these two broken people, I would find what my own life had been lacking for so long.

  “I want to be in your life that way, Savannah. You’ll be kind of like another sister.” I had to smile at that thought. “And the only woman I’ve ever had a successful long-term relationship with is my sister, so I think that’s a good sign.”

  As I spoke, a tear of simple emotion—whether it was from relief, joy, or gratitude, I couldn’t say—trickled down one of her delicate cheeks. “Okay, Robby.”

  And Tristan, as I could have expected, didn’t need to say a thing to show his accord. The pleased expression he wore spoke louder than words. (Plus the fact that he dove into the tiny spot between Savannah and me, landing pretty much in both of our laps.)

  “So, it looks like now you have two brothers, maybe not by blood, but of your heart, Savannah Meyers. Do you think you can handle us?” I hugged them both at once and then bent to pull a deck of cards from off the table. “Go Fish, anyone?”

  WE TUCKED Savannah in between us that night; somehow, Tristan and I had managed to agree without saying even a single word aloud, that she needed to be there. At the moment she was flat on her back, deep in a peaceful sleep.

  I’d gained an incredible amount of appreciation for her over the past several hours. Out of all the men in the world, Savannah had selected me to complete their family circle. She had brought the three of us together with an open and generous heart, and without even a hint of jealousy. She’d been the bonding agent that had held our unconventional relationship together through all of its challenges, and we needed her to remain with us because she was an integral part of our small family’s spirit. But despite her compulsion to give, I now knew Savannah’s dreams and goals and needs were every bit as important as Tristan’s and mine. Her need for love was equally compelling.

  My hand brushed against Tristan’s as we both smoothed her long curls back from her face. “We’ll take care of her together, Tris.” I felt energized and strong as I spoke those words. It was as if all of the fear and conflict in my heart had simply dissipated the moment I’d set my priorities in order and accepted my choices.

  “Yeah, we will. Our little sister.” Tristan took my hand and pulled it behind Savannah’s head, to her pillow, interlacing his fingers with mine. “I like the sound of that.”

  “You know I’m sorry about yesterday, right?” I needed him to be sure of me and of my love.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And you may not believe this, but I’m actually looking forward to telling my family how I feel about you guys. Whoever cares about me will see how happy I am, and will be happy for me.”

  “And what about the people who aren’t so happy for you?”

  “Whoever can’t love you and Savannah, can’t love me either.” I said it and I meant it. If someone wanted to be part of my future, he had to love and respect the two people I was planning to spend my future with.

  I heard what I thought was Tristan yawning. “Neither of us got too much sleep last night, Robby. We should probably crash now.” The blankets rustled a bit as Tristan turned onto his side to face us. “I love you; everything is gonna be fine.”

  “Nope, you’re wrong there, buddy.” Succumbing to a rather large yawn myself, I said, “Everything’s gonna be great.” I rolled onto my side and dropped one arm around Savannah, my fingertips landing on Tristan’s chest. “Everything already is.”

  Chapter 41

  Robby

  I’D BE lying if I said I wasn’t as nervous as an elderly horse at a glue factory as I sat in my family’s formal dining room, waiting for my father to make his appearance. Trying to get my ass comfortable on those stiff overstuffed chairs, my elbows resting on the super-glossy mahogany table, in a room which had previously only been used for momentous family occasions—holiday meals, report card criticism, high school athletics performance evaluations—only added to my apprehension. Let’s face it, a person doesn’t morph from a compulsive people pleaser into a devil-may-care free spirit overnight. But I had set my priorities in order and had promised Tristan and Savannah that I was finished running.

  I intended to follow through with my promises.

  “More coffee, dear?” My mother appeared as anxious as I was. I wasn’t sure if Dad had filled her in on the details of our last conversation, but she wasn’t stupid, nor was she clueless, and she could sense that something was up. “It’s decaf.”

  I supposed another cup of decaf wouldn’t affect my nerves, so I said, “Sure, Mom. Thanks.” She poured the coffee, and I have to admit I almost choked when she placed a tray of colorful Italian cookies on the table in front of me, because I knew who had brought them over to our house.

  Earlier this morning, my roommates had surprised me with mimosas to go with the delicious mushroom and cheese omelets Tristan had made. After we’d enjoyed our little breakfast celebration, neither of them had risen from the kitchen table.

  “It’s time to talk,” Savannah had said in her straightforward manner and had glanced expectantly at Tristan.

  Blushing lightly, Tristan had added, “Robby, I want to tell you some things… about me. I want to tell you my story.”

  And he had proceeded to share with me the story of a boy who grew up in a truly dysfunctional family, where his greatest wish was that he would j
ust be forgotten. Yes, he had suffered many years of his mother’s neglect, which had certainly been bad, but when his youthful beauty had caught the eye of his reclusive uncle, things had gone from bad to worse, pretty much overnight. Several years of incestuous abuse had been followed by the better part of a decade barely surviving on the street; a lack of food, shelter, education, health care, physical and emotional security, and self-esteem. In fact, everything that made a person whole had been missing from his life.

  Coupled with my newfound knowledge of Tristan’s formative years was my one night of experiencing life on the street. In one measly night I had undergone a barrage of what had essentially been Tristan’s way of life for so long—fear of the elements, fear for my safety, hunger, feelings of worthlessness and shame, and the list goes on. None of these sentiments was in any way positive. I had gained a new respect for Tristan that night—an admiration, really—and nobody would drive me from him.

  My love for Savannah burned just as bright and intense, but in a brotherly way. But it went further than that, though. She was also the model on whom I would base some major “social changes” I wanted to make in my life. I was planning to adopt a kinder, gentler way of interacting with the world, I guess you could say.

  “Martha, is that decaf?” After a single sip, my father slammed down his mug onto the dining room table, apparently repulsed. He hadn’t even taken a seat yet and he was already criticizing. “For Christ’s sake, make some real coffee.”

  “Oh, yes, of course, dear.” She scurried from the room.

  “Dad, I asked Mom to make decaf.” That actually was a bold-faced lie, but it was for a good cause.

  “She knows I detest that stuff.” He pulled out a chair and sat down across from me. I fought off the “I’m so small” feeling and straightened my back against the taut cushion. “So, you look like you’ve been out all night.” He smiled broadly. “Did you take me up on my suggestion to hook up with that nice fellow, Michael, and paint the town red last night?”

  “No, Dad. That’s not what happened.”

  His expression twisted in the same way as when he’d tasted the decaffeinated coffee, but he held his neck up high and stiff. “I hope you aren’t here to further disappoint me, son.”

  Swallowing hard, I spoke. “I have a feeling that you may interpret what I’m going to tell you that way, but it is not my intention, not at all.” I battled with my urge to close my eyes so I didn’t have to see his fiery expression.

  Just then, my mother returned with a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. Dad waved her away, mumbling, “Get the hell out of here, Martha. We are trying to talk man to….” He sniffed. “Man to man.” She placed the mug in front of him and headed toward the doorway.

  “No, Mom. Stay, please. I want you to stay.”

  The woman appeared as if she was ready to have a panic attack. She looked from Dad to me, and back again, not knowing which of us to please. I guess in our case, my apple didn’t fall too far from her tree.

  “Please, Mom. I want you to hear what I have to say.”

  My father shrugged and rolled his eyes, and then he nodded toward her curtly with what amounted to his permission to sit down beside him. “So what is this big news that you are here to announce, Rob? I can hardly wait to hear it.” Yes, very sarcastic.

  The moment of truth, well, it had surely arrived.

  “Mom, Dad, I realize that it may be difficult for you to hear this, and I understand that you may need some time to absorb what I’m going to tell you.” I couldn’t say for certain, but I suspected that my father already knew what was coming. He pushed his chair back from the table a bit, as if to create some distance from me. “I’ve become, um, involved with Tristan Chartrand. You remember, Savannah’s roommate. I feel very strongly for him and, uh and….”

  My mom stared at my father and my father stared at me.

  “And I am… Mom, Dad, I’m trying to tell you that I’m gay and I’m in love with Tristan.”

  The room was pin-drop silent. In fact the whole house, no, the entire universe seemed completely devoid of all sound, like we were all in one big noise vacuum. Mom continued to gawk at Dad, but now she clung on to the edge of the table as if she feared he’d overturn it. My father tried to stare me down, his eyes bulging, then squinting, and then bulging again.

  I refused to look away. I had set my priorities; I had told the truth. The ball was no longer in my court. What happened now was my parents’ decision.

  Dad stood up. “Then I guess we have nothing further to discuss.” My mother gasped. And he pulled himself up to his full height, towering over the table, and then he hesitated, as if he was waiting for something. As if he was waiting for me to do or say something.

  But I just looked up at him, not allowing my expression to betray my disappointment in the man I’d spent my life trying to please.

  “John, please, and Robby, you need to tell your father that… oh, dear.” My mother was clearly uncertain just exactly whom to beg for what.

  “Be quiet, Martha.” My father dismissed her as if she was less than zero in his book. (If I ever treated my partners in that manner, I hoped they’d have the good grace to drown me in the bathtub.) “Robert, as I said, we have nothing further to talk about until you leave those two perverted gold diggers and move back in here. You know where we keep the key. I’ll expect your things to be back in your old room by dinnertime.”

  It was my turn to stand. “Dad, and Mom.” I resolved to treat my mother with complete respect from this moment on, and in doing so, I would address them both. “I know you’ll need some time to come to terms with what I’ve told you, but please understand, I’m not moving out. My home is with Tristan and Savannah. He’s my boyfriend and she’s like a sister to me. I won’t be coming back here to live.”

  “Then you won’t be seeing any more of this family!” my father bellowed.

  “John, please!”

  “I understand, Dad, that you feel angry and disappointed right now, but I’m still the same person I was five minutes ago. I haven’t changed. And you guys can call on me at any time; know that my door will always be open to you.” I took one of my business cards out of my wallet and then found a pen on the sidebar. “Here, I’m writing down the address of our apartment. You are both welcome to come by at any time.”

  My father just stood there, utterly dumbfounded. I had never stood up to him before and I was fairly certain he was waiting for little Robby to crumble. And though I was perspiring, and panting, and a little bit nauseated, I had said my piece and I was glad.

  My mother came to my side and grabbed my arm. “Are you sure, Robby? You never mentioned anything like this before about your being a homosexual.”

  “Mom, I’m almost twenty-seven and I’ve never brought home a woman for you to meet other than Savannah, who was actually my boyfriend’s roommate. Hadn’t you begun to wonder about me?” I looked her squarely in her eyes and she recognized my words with a small nod.

  “And Lindsey, well, she’s not gonna let you near Madison and the new baby when he comes! She won’t let a bunch of perverts hang around her house!” His face was bright red. Hopefully not a heart attack waiting to happen, because that would just suck. But even a heart attack wouldn’t change anything I’d said.

  I turned to face him directly. “As a matter of fact, Dad, Lindsey has invited all three of us over to dinner tonight. I don’t think our sexuality fazes her even slightly.”

  At that, my father stormed past me and continued up the stairs. A moment later I heard a door slam.

  “I think you might need some new door hinges, Mom.” It was an effort to lighten the mood, but she didn’t bite. She was looking at me in this strange way, almost like she’d never seen me before.

  “Mom? Are you okay?” I reached out and placed my hand on her arm. She covered it with her own.

  “W-well, yes, dear…. I’m just surprised, I suppose.” Her eyes had glassed over but she continued to study me. “And Robby, I-
I think I’m proud of you. You certainly have grown into quite a man.”

  Suddenly I saw my mother in a way I’d never before seen her as well: as a woman with her own thoughts and opinions, rather than just as an extension of my father’s will. “Thanks, Mom.”

  The woman hugged me briefly. “Now, I need to see to your father. And try not to worry about things with him too much.” My mother wore a smug expression I’d never seen on her face before. “He’ll come around when he realizes that you meant what you said.” She smiled at me, evidently well satisfied. “It looks like our Robby is his own man now.”

  MY NEXT stop was the office. When I’d driven by on the way to my parents’ house I’d noticed that Mikey’s car was parked outside, and it was still there on the return trip, so I knew he was upstairs. Opening the door, I braced myself for the inevitable fireworks. Fireworks that should have happened a long time ago, if I’d been any kind of a man.

  “Just got off the phone wit’ yer old man, Dalton.” As usual, Mikey did not remove his eyes from the numbers in front of him. “You sure shocked the shit outta him today.”

  I took a deep breath, and then said a quick prayer for patience. “Yes, I guess I did.” And for some reason, I didn’t feel as pissed off at Mikey and his bad attitude as I normally did. In fact, in some ways I actually pitied the man, as he had no idea of what love and friendship really meant.

  “So now you’re a fag, huh?”

  He was trying to provoke me. I recalled what Savannah had told me about Mikey just this morning before I’d left. She’d said, “Mikey provokes you to get your attention. He’s like lots of the kids I work with; he’d rather have negative attention from you than no attention at all.” And she’d been right on the money. I took off my coat, hung it over my chair, and opened my briefcase on my desk in order to buy myself enough time to stifle a prematurely nasty retort, being extra careful not to play into his hands. I, however, did not take a seat.