by K. C. Wells
“Hello?” His mom sounded almost cautious, then Greg realized she didn’t recognize the caller.
“Mom? Hi.”
“Gregory Michael Chambers, where are you?” Her voice was so loud, he had to hold the phone away from his ear. “And why aren’t you answering your phone? I’ve called, I’ve left messages on Facebook, I’ve sent texts….”
Greg’s chest tightened, and his throat thickened. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” The words came out as a croak. “I lost my phone.” That was true, technically.
There was a pause. “Are you all right, sweetheart? You don’t sound so good.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine.” Then he reconsidered. “Okay, not all that fine, if I’m honest.”
She sighed. “You’ve had me so worried.”
Greg almost dropped the phone in surprise. “Really?”
“Well, of course. What with your dad… dying, and you calling to say you weren’t coming home right away… I figured you were just taking some time for yourself. But I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. Of course I was worried. We both were.”
He hadn’t expected that. “I didn’t think you’d have time to be worried. You have too much to do.”
Mom chuckled. “Yes, well, taking care of two-year-old twin boys who both have colds… and then Damon comes down with man flu, so basically my life is hell right now. I’m also not sure about who exactly is the bigger baby—the twins or him.”
Greg knew his mom and Damon hadn’t planned on having kids: the twins had been a bit of a shock, especially as mom had just passed her fortieth birthday when she discovered she was pregnant.
“So where are you now?”
Her question dropped Greg back into the present. “I’m in Wyoming.”
“Still? What on earth are you doing there?”
“I had a promise to keep, that I made to Dad.” Silence fell. “Mom?”
“You’re an adult. I can’t tell you what to do anymore, I know that. You’re twenty-four, almost twenty-five, and you have a mind of your own, but… there are things I never told you about your father.” A pause. “I just don’t want you to be shocked if you learn things about him that—”
“Are you talking about him being gay?” Greg blurted out.
The silence was almost deafening.
“Is that why you two split up? Is that what he meant about living a lie?” Now it made sense.
“He… told you he was gay?”
Greg sighed. If only. “No, mom, he didn’t say a word.”
“Then how did—”
“He asked me to deliver a letter. Well, I got to read it.”
Another pause, and his mom’s voice changed subtly. “He wrote to Joshua, didn’t he?” All of a sudden, his mom sounded tired… resigned.
“You knew about Joshua?” Greg’s world gave a little wobble. “When did he tell you?”
“We’d been married about six months. I was already pregnant. Except… if I’m honest, I knew there was someone, long before then. I just didn’t expect it to be a guy.”
“But… he married you. He must have loved you.” Even as he said the words, he could see part of the letter dancing before his eyes. Something about his dad never loving her the way he’d loved Joshua.
“I suppose it’s all right to tell you everything, now that you can understand. We became good friends when he first came to my high school. We were both in our final year. There was something about him, an air of… sadness, I suppose. A mysterious quality. When we left high school, we stayed friends. His parents were very keen for us to marry.” She chuckled. “You can say that again. I was married at nineteen.” She sighed. “But I was fine with that. He was handsome, intelligent, and he could be really funny. Hell, at eighteen, all I could think of was marrying him and having his children.”
“Then what happened?”
“We got married, of course. Instead of going to college, he got a job, and his parents bought us a house. I wanted to start having kids right away, but he wasn’t so sure.” She laughed bitterly. “I suppose the signs were always there. He was never that keen on… Never mind. I wore him down, and I was so happy when I found out I was expecting you.”
“You said he told you when you’d been married for six months.”
“Yes. That was when I realized my dream life was a lie.” Another pause. “It was the last thing I expected to hear, that he was gay. That he’d been in love, and had lost him. That he didn’t think he could cope with… living life as a straight man. I begged him not to leave. I told him I’d make him happy.”
A wave of sorrow washed over him. “I’m guessing he stayed.” They hadn’t split up until Greg was three.
She huffed. “I knew he stayed because I was pregnant. And give him his due, he did try, really. It didn’t help matters, of course, that I knew deep down he wasn’t happy. And now that I think about it, that was the problem. That knowledge was always there, like a rift between us. Once you were born, I thought he’d settle down, get used to being a father. I didn’t know how deeply the guilt was slicing into him.”
“He couldn’t stand living a lie.”
“No, he couldn’t.” Her voice was soft. “He told me he was no good for me, that he was destroying my life as surely as he was destroying his own. He told me I deserved to be happy, with someone who loved me totally, in a way he never could.”
“And what about me?” Greg could understand not wanting to stay in the marriage, but he’d left and had virtually severed all contact with them. Sure, there had been cards and presents for birthdays, Christmas, graduation… But no visits.
“Aw, sweetheart. Your dad did love you. I think he felt he’d already ruined my happiness, he didn’t want to ruin yours too. Like he was bad luck or something. And then when Damon came along, your dad was so happy for me. He was glad you’d have a father figure in your life, someone you could rely on, depend on…. Not like him, he said.”
Greg had been the one to make the first forays into forging a relationship with his dad. Greg had waited until he was twenty-one before contacting him. Now at least, he finally understood his dad’s reticence. It had taken several phone calls and a lot of emails before he’d agreed to see Greg. “He really believed I’d do better without him, didn’t he?”
“When you first told me you were going to see him, I was so worried. I thought it would end badly, that you’d come home a mess. But… you didn’t.”
“Maybe it was because he was older,” Greg reasoned. His dad had just celebrated his forty-first birthday, and Greg had gone to stay with him. What surprised him was how well they got on. Greg had travelled to Jackson, unsure of what to expect. What he’d found was a quiet, reflective man with similar tastes in books, movies and music. A man he’d really liked, enough that when he learned his dad was dying, it had almost shattered him.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He knew what she was asking. “He’s been gone a month, but yes, it still hurts.” Now there was a new edge to his pain, an added dimension. Now Greg knew exactly what he’d lost.
“I know. And of course it still hurts. So sad you had so little time with him, but at least you got to know him. So where are you in Wyoming?”
He bit back a chuckle. “If I told you, I don’t think you’d believe me. Let’s just say I’m among friends.” She didn’t need to know about the previous week, not yet, anyway. And Greg wasn’t sure he could cope with his mom’s angst right then. “And speaking of my friends, this is their phone bill I’m charging up, so I’d better finish soon.”
“Wait a moment. You said you’d read your dad’s letter. How did you manage that?”
“I delivered it to Joshua… who let me read it.” He wasn’t about to tell her who he was staying with. He wasn’t sure how that would be received.
“I see. Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?”
He sighed. “Actually? I was thinking about staying here. Would you mind?” He didn’t want to hurt her, but
he wasn’t about to contemplate traveling to San Diego in his present state. Besides, there were still questions to be answered.
“Of course I mind. Families should be together at Thanksgiving. But… I do understand. Promise you’ll keep in touch? Can I call you on this number? Will you be there for a while?”
“I’ll be here,” he reassured her. “Try not to get too frazzled with the twins? And don’t put up with Damon’s man flu any longer than you have to. Tell him to man up.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I can see that remark going down well.” She paused. “I’m sorry I waited so long to have this talk. I should have said something a long time ago.”
“No. It was always Dad’s place to share that with me. You did the right thing.” Only Dad didn’t, did he?
Somewhere in the house, he heard Micah singing a Frank Sinatra song. Greg smiled. “Sorry, mom, I have to go. I’ll call soon, okay?”
“Not if I call you first,” she said. “Take care, Greg. Love you.”
“Love you too.” He disconnected the call, conscious of all the things he’d left unsaid.
They would have to wait.
Chapter Eight
“Is he okay? He seems really quiet this evening.” Dad kept his voice low while he loaded the dishwasher.
Micah knew exactly what he meant. “It’s not just this evening. He’s been like this all day.” Greg had seemed subdued, and though Micah had tried to raise a smile, his efforts had clearly fallen short.
Dad shrugged. “Maybe he has a lot on his mind.” He leaned closer. “Do you think it has something to do with that phone call to his mom?”
It was the only suggestion that made any sense. “Let’s find out.” Micah poured out three mugs of coffee, and then picked up two of them. He walked into the living room, Dad following him. Greg was sitting on the couch, his leg propped up. The TV was on, but the sound was turned down. Not that Greg was watching it. He was staring at the fire.
Micah walked over to the couch and handed him one of the mugs. “Here you go.”
Greg flashed him a tight smile. “Thanks.”
Micah wasn’t about to let that distract him from his course of action. He sat beside Greg, picked up the remote, and switched off the TV.
Greg blinked. “What was wrong with that show?”
Micah gave a casual shrug. “I don’t know. I wasn’t watching it. More to the point, neither were you. So I thought our time would be better spent trying to figure out what’s eating you.”
Greg frowned. “Nothing’s eating me.”
Dad snorted. “Son, I may not have known you all that long, but I know bullshit when I hear it.”
Micah rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Dad could be about as subtle as a train-wreck.
Greg glanced at Micah, his lips twitching. “I don’t recall your dad ever being this… blunt before.”
Micah nodded. “Yeah, well, you’ve obviously never had a conversation with him when his bullshit detector was working properly. He’s just had it repaired.”
It took a second or two for his words to register, then Micah heaved an inward sigh of relief when Greg chuckled. “Bullshit detector. I like that.”
“So does that mean you’re gonna stop lying to us, and tell us what’s wrong? You never know. Maybe we can help.”
Greg sighed. “It’s nothing that can be fixed, honest. I… I was thinking about stuff my mom told me. I guess it’s just taking its time sinking in.”
“What kind of stuff?” Dad leaned forward in his armchair.
“Well, for one thing…” Greg looked him in the eye. “Mom knew about you.”
“Wait—what?” Micah sat upright. “You don’t mean… your mom knew that your dad loved my dad?”
Greg nodded. “He told her, before I was even born. Hell, all I said was that I’d delivered a letter for Dad, and she came right out with your name, Joshua, just like that.”
“I’m damn sure that’s not what’s got you thinking,” Dad commented quietly.
“No, you’re right about that. She was telling me about why my dad left, why he stayed away.” Greg sipped his coffee. “I guess it was a conversation that needed to happen.”
“The way you’re talking, it doesn’t sound like it was a bad conversation,” Micah remarked.
Greg shrugged. “That’s because it wasn’t.”
Micah scrubbed his hand over his cheek. “Then I don’t get it. Why are you so… reluctant to go home? Why did you say in the hospital that you weren’t sure you had a home anymore?”
“Oh, I see.” Greg stared into his coffee for a moment. “Okay. When Mom met Damon, my stepdad, I was fine with it. He was obviously good for her.”
“How old were you at the time?” Dad asked.
“Six or seven, I guess. Damon was the only father I’d ever known: I had no memories of my own dad. Anyhow, we got along fine. I liked him.”
“Then what went wrong?” Micah asked softly.
“Nothing went wrong, as such. I went off to college, and they were both so proud of me. I didn’t have to worry about student loans or anything like that. Mom and Damon paid partly for my studies, and the rest was paid for from a trust fund that Dad had set up when I was born.” He expelled a breath. “So strange, now I think about it. He wouldn’t stay, for fear of ruining our lives, yet he cared enough to make sure my schooling was taken care of.”
Micah wasn’t sure he fully understood some of that comment, but he let it go. “So you went to college. And?”
“I’d just received my Bachelors, and had gone home for summer vacation. When I got there, Mom had some surprising news for me. After fifteen years of marriage, she and Damon were going to have twins.”
“Wow.” Dad grinned. “I don’t envy her, no, sir.”
“Yeah, it was kind of a shock to both of them. But after that, everything changed.”
“How?” Micah wanted to know.
Greg took a mouthful of coffee before responding. “Every time I went home for a weekend, or for the holidays or summer, it felt like… it wasn’t my home anymore. Like I didn’t belong there. Damon and Mom had the twins, and their whole life revolved around them. I just felt like I was in the way.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying they shut me out, or anything. It’s just that their focus changed.” Greg frowned. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I was jealous of my new little brothers, believe me.”
“I don’t think that for a second,” Dad said promptly. “I think I understand what you mean. You grew up believing your dad didn’t want you, which I suppose is common among kids whose parents divorce early. Then your mom has not one, but two children late in life. One minute you were the center of her universe, and the next? You felt… replaced. I can imagine that would only make you feel… alienated, somehow.”
Judging from Greg’s expression of astonishment, Micah guessed his dad had nailed it. “Then what happened?” He knew there was more to come.
“So I went back to school to do my MBA. I spent less time at home. When I was finished with my studies, that was about the same time I found out about Dad’s diagnosis. I told Mom I was going to stay with him awhile.” He swallowed. “I ended up staying five months, until the day he died.”
“You… were with him?” Micah knew all too well what that felt like.
“Yes. I was there for the funeral too. He’d paid for everything ahead of time, and there wasn’t anything for me to do, but stand there and mourn him. Hardly anyone was there, and that made me so sad. He’d moved to Wyoming to start a new life—he even went back to school— and yet, by the time I got to know him, he had no life to speak of.”
Micah jerked his head up at that. “Wyoming?” He glanced at his dad, who seemed unperturbed by this. “Did you know where he lived?”
Dad shook his head. “I only found out when I read the letter.”
He shoved down hard on his frustration, and kept his voice even. “Before either of you says another word, I think I need to read this letter for myself. Unless
you object?”
Greg opened his eyes wide. “You haven’t read it yet? I sort of assumed Joshua intended on showing it to you.”
Dad got up from his chair. “I’m sorry, Micah. You’re right. You need to read it too.” He left the room.
Micah stretched out a hand toward Greg. “I know what you went through. With your dad, I mean. I was there when my mom….” His throat seized up.
To his surprise, Greg clasped his hand tightly. “I know, it hurts. I don’t expect that will ever go away entirely.” They sat there in silence, connected by their grief in a surprisingly intimate moment.
Dad coughed, and Micah pulled his hand free of Greg’s. Dad held out the folded sheets. “Here.”
Micah took them and sat back against the cushions. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, the hisses that came from the logs. He read it slowly, trying to take it all in. Then he raised his head and stared at Dad, but the words wouldn’t come. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
“I know,” Dad said simply. “I think I’ve read it over twenty times since Greg gave it to me.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve had enough tears for one day. I think we should do something to lighten the mood.”
Micah wiped his eyes. “Sounds good to me. What did you have in mind?” He could understand Dad not wanting to talk about it. And that letter… so much emotion in so few words.
Greg nodded. “I’m with you. It’s been quite a day.”
Dad went over to the bookshelves next to the fireplace. “I vote for a movie and popcorn, and I know exactly what I want to watch.”
Micah caught Greg’s gaze. “Be afraid. Be very afraid. Dad’s taste in movies is almost as bad as his cooking.” He winked, and Greg smothered a snicker. Relief flooded through him at the lightening of the mood in that room. Nice one, Dad.
“Just for that, you get to go make the popcorn. I’ll have chocolate caramel, please. And make Greg whatever he wants. We got cheddar cheese, caramel, you name it.” Dad beamed at him. “Well, get to it, popcorn boy.”
