by Kenna Knight
“Yeah, and more. Mom found where I hid my portfolios, and she stashed all of our family photos there, too.”
“See, she was looking out for you all this time.” She smiles through the tears in her eyes.
“Yeah, it’s weird to get used to not being angry with her. I’ve been pissed for so long, and now I have to forget all that and forgive her, but she’s gone.”
“She’s with you in your heart, honey. I know that doesn’t help much right now, but it will someday. Why don’t you two get some rest, and we can watch a movie and talk about tomorrow later on.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Thanks, Aunt Kitty, for everything.”
“It’s nothing, sweet boy. I love you, now go rest.”
I flop down on our bed face first and moan. This has got to be the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in. When I roll over, I watch Noah as he sits down at a small table and chair set by the window to go through his mother’s things.
First, he removes the letter the lawyer gave him from its envelope and unfolds it. I’m concerned about this letter and how it will make Noah feel. On my back, I watch for a reaction from him out of the corner of one eye. He finishes reading it and places it back in the envelope without so much as blinking an eye.
Then he opens the box his mom had hidden in the basement. As he said, there is a journal and a few photographs inside. “I want to read it, you know? But they were her private thoughts. She had them hidden away for a reason. Do you think it’s wrong of me to read her journal?” he asks.
I prop myself up on my elbows. “My guess is she was hiding that from your father, not you. I think you should read it. It might give you some peace.”
“Okay, you’re probably right, but I’m too tired right now.”
“Come lie down with me and take a nap. It’s been a long, stressful day. You need it.”
He stands, and my phone rings in my pocket. I sigh and pull it out, but my heart skips a beat when I see that it’s Theo. “It’s Theo, I bet the baby was born,” I say as Noah climbs into bed next to me.
“Hurry, answer it.”
“Hello? Theo? You better be calling with good news.”
“I am, I am. Abraham and I are the proud parents of a gorgeous baby girl!”
I move my mouth away from the phone to tell Noah the good news. “It’s a girl, they had a girl.”
Noah’s eyes light up, and for the first time since he learned his mother died, he looks happy. “What’s her name?” he asks, and I relay the question. “What’s her name?”
“Rosalie Belle Brooks, don’t you love it? And she looks like a sweet little rose. It fits her perfect.” Theo is so excited he can’t talk anymore, and Abe takes the phone.
“Liam, we didn’t call Noah because we know you two are together. I didn’t want him to think we didn’t include him.”
“He won’t care, he’s right here. Tell me more about Rosalie.”
“Put it on speaker,” Noah says, and I do.
“She’s seven pounds six ounces, eighteen inches long, tons of jet black hair and brown skin. The birth mother is Hispanic. Rosalie will be so tan in the summer.” I can hear Abe clapping his hands together like he does when he’s super excited.
“How did the delivery go? What kind of vibe are you getting about things?” I don’t want to out and out ask if they think the mother will change her mind about the adoption, but I know Abe will understand what I’m asking.
“It went well, she delivered naturally, and both of them are healthy. She went through with not seeing the baby after the birth. Bianca’s here, she’s holding her. I’m not sure we’ll ever get her back, she’s already pretty territorial and asking to babysit.”
“I’m glad things went so well, congratulations to you both,” I say.
“Yeah, congrats, I can’t wait to see her. Hey, text us some pics,” Noah says.
“We will for sure, I’ve only taken like five or six hundred so far.”
“Oh good, I’ll do a professional photo shoot as soon as we get back.”
“Perfect, oh this is awesome, we have a photographer in the family now!”
Noah smiles when Abe refers to him as family. It warms my heart.
“Rosalie’s life will be very well documented. She will know what she did every single day of her life when she grows up,” Noah adds.
“Okay, we will let you go. I know you’re busy, we just wanted to share the news.”
“Of course, we would have been pissed if you didn’t. Send pictures. We love you, tell Theo we love him, too.”
“Will do, bye.”
“Bye,” we say in unison.
Noah scoots to my side of the bed and lays his head on my chest.
“I’m so happy for them, how exciting,” he says.
“Me, too. I just hope things go smoothly this time, and the birth mother doesn’t change her mind.”
“I have a good feeling about it. I don’t think she will, and anyway if she did, Bianca would probably hire a hit man to take her out.”
We laugh because as far-fetched as it sounds, neither of us would put it past her.
“I love that woman. I hope she finds somebody who will love her right,” he says.
“Oh, she will. She’s not one to settle for anything less than what she wants.”
My phone starts to ding with incoming texts. It’s picture after picture of Rosalie, and she is just as perfect as they said she was. We ooh and ahh for a while until we decide to nap.
Noah needs to sleep. The next forty-eight hours are going to suck.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Noah – The Letter
Dear Son, I cannot say how sorry I am that you are reading this letter. I had every intention of reconciling with you before my death, but your father, well you know your father.
I want you to know first of all that I never wanted to send you away. I love you, Noah. I’m sure you have spent years hating me, and it’s hard to believe that, but it’s the truth. I tried to come to Florida many times, but your dad always found out and stopped me. I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up, and he found out, then he took my phone and ripped the landline out of the wall to keep me from trying again. Things were bad here, as much as I missed you, I was glad you weren’t here to witness your father’s downfall, it was ugly. I sent you letters, oh my God, I sent you so many letters, but they all came back undelivered. I kept them for you in the box with my journal that’s in the basement. I know they won’t make up for what we did, but I wanted to prove to you that I didn’t give up on you, I never gave up. I thought about you every single day. I saved money for your future. I prayed every day you would find someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved. I don’t care that you’re gay, it never mattered to me. I failed you in life, but I hope to succeed in making you believe that I loved you in death. Live a full life full of love and success, my son, and know that your mother always, always, loved you. Mom.
I’ve read this over and over, and all I can think is how does a man get that fucked up? It has to be more than alcohol that made him the way he is. I hope he suffers and rots in that house alone until the day he dies and even that would be too good for him.
I told Liam I wanted to read it at the funeral, but he doesn’t think that’s the best idea. Now that it’s over, I know he’s right. Mom’s funeral was peaceful and quiet without Dad there. She deserved that after all he put her through. I’ve been floating through this day in a fog waiting for it to be over. All I want is to go home with Liam, see baby Rosalie and our friends, and forget that Crossroads, Ohio ever existed.
We are leaving the cemetery when my phone vibrates in my pocket. We are done saying our goodbyes and walking down a hill toward the limo. I take out the phone, and the number is unknown. I look over at Liam and show him. He shrugs, so I answer.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Noah. I hope this is a good time. I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” No fucking way, it’s m
y dad. I stop walking ten feet from the car. Liam notices and waves for me to hurry up, it’s frigid and windy today, but suddenly I’m not feeling cold anymore. I’m on fire with anger.
“No, Dad, this is not the best time. In fact, this is probably the worst fucking time you could choose to call me after almost ten years. I just finished lowering my mother’s cold dead body into the ground, and I’m walking back to the car. You’d know all of this if you’d shown up at your wife’s funeral.” I spit my venom-filled words at him, and I feel my heart pounding through my heavy winter coat.
“I thought it best for you not to come. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted me there anyway. I’m calling to apologize for the other day in the lawyer’s office. I was out of line and drunk as a skunk. I also wanted to thank you for giving me Ana’s half of the house and boat. That was mighty fair of you.”
I’m vibrating with anger, and Liam is guiding me by the arm back to the car. “I didn’t do that for you. I did it for me, so I don’t ever have to see your pathetic, close-minded face again.”
“I respect that, son, I do.” Something’s off here, why is he acting so civil? This doesn’t even sound like my father. It’s his voice, but the man behind it is someone else.
“What are you really calling about? I know it’s not to apologize, you’ve never apologized to me in your life.”
He’s quiet for a beat like he’s preparing what he’s going to say next. “Noah, I hear you’re in a relationship with Liam Stone.”
“Yeah, so what?”
“I want you to leave him. Please, son, I don’t want you to end up in the depths of hell alongside me because you lived your life fornicating with another man. It’s not the Lord’s will. I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t understand how you ended up this way, but after seeing your mom die, I know I’m not long for this world either because of my drinking. I loved you when you were a little boy, you know? You were so handsome and smart as a whip. I had big dreams for you, but something happened, and you started acting differently. I’m your dad, and it’s my job to make sure you’re living life right. You can come live with me here at the house. We can start over, and I’ll help you find a nice girl to marry and have some babies with. You know your mama would have loved that. To see you have a family and some grandbabies, oh she loved babies. Please, Noah, I’m begging you to change your ways, live like God planned you to. I’m trying to save your soul, son, please.”
I can’t listen to him beg anymore, I end the call without saying a word and drop the phone on the floor of the limo.
“Noah, baby, what’s going on? Was that your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“What did the bastard want? You’d think he would be ashamed of himself after not coming to his wife’s funeral,” Kitty asks from the front seat.
“He, I, I don’t know. I can’t talk about it, I can’t think.”
Liam rubs my knee, and for the first time in our relationship, I’m not sure how I feel about it. My dad’s words are all tangled up with the grief I’m feeling for my mom. I know what he said isn’t right. I’m not going to burn in hell because I’m gay, so why did his offer to take me back appeal to me even the tiniest bit? It should repulse me, I should have screamed go fuck yourself old man into the phone, but I didn’t. Why?
Liam feels my tension and removes his hand. He’s always known how to read my body language. I feel sick to my stomach. I need to get out of this car, my heart is beating so hard it hurts inside my chest. I can’t breathe, the car feels like it’s closing in on me, it’s going to crush me into a little ball, and I’m going to die. Die and go to hell for being gay. What if he’s right? What if he’s right? What if…
When I open my eyes, I’m in bed at The Ritz-Carlton in the presidential suite, alone. Nobody is sitting at the bedside or in the conversation area by the window. It’s dark, but the shades are drawn so it could be the middle of the day, and I wouldn’t know it. I feel like I drank a whole keg of beer and a couple of bottles of Jack by myself. My head aches, my muscles hurt, and my mouth is dryer than air-popped popcorn.
I sit up and slide out of bed feeling my way to the bathroom where I flick on the light and check myself in the mirror. It’s me, the same old me that I saw in this mirror yesterday. I turn on the sink and drink from the tap for a long time. When I’m finished, and my cotton mouth is history, I trace my steps back to try to figure out what the hell is going on.
We went to Mom’s funeral, and then to the cemetery… The cemetery, that’s it. The phone call, the panic attack, shit. I throw on one of the hotel robes and go in search of Liam. When I open the door, the suite is quiet. “Liam? Kitty? Anybody here?” I call out.
“In here, honey,” Kitty says from the master bedroom.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes, I’m decent, no worries.”
She’s sitting at a table with paperwork fanned out in front of her.
“I was wondering how long you were going to sleep. If you didn’t wake up pretty soon, I was going wake you myself.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Twenty-four hours or so. Do you remember what happened?”
“I think so. Dad called, and I had a panic attack, that’s it, though.”
“Come sit down with me.” She pushes the chair next to her out with her foot, and I sit in it.
“Where’s Liam?” I ask apprehension building in my chest again.
“Honey, what did your father say to you on the phone?”
“Kitty, answer my question, where is Liam?”
She reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers. I don’t like this. I don’t like that she isn’t giving me a straight answer.
“He went home, dear.”
“Home? Like to visit his parents in Crossroads home?”
“No sweetheart, home to Washington, D.C.”
“Why? What the hell? Why would he leave me?”
“Noah, take some deep breaths with me now, in and out,” she takes a deep breath and blows it out, but I don’t feel like fucking deep breathing, I want to know why Liam left.
“No, tell me why he’s gone.”
She sighs deeply and releases my hand. “Do you remember the things you said before you passed out in the limo?”
“I didn’t say anything, did I? I was thinking things. I was upset with my father, but I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, dear, you did. I’m not sure what your father was trying to pull, and I don’t know what he said on the phone, but you were saying some very hurtful things to Liam. He knows you had a panic attack, but he thought it would be best if he went home so you could sort yourself out.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “I don’t understand. What did I say? What do I have to sort out?”
I open my eyes again, and Kitty’s expression is blank. She’s in therapist mode.
“Do you not remember anything?” she asks.
“No, I am so fucking confused.”
“Well, you were screaming that you were going to go to hell because of your relationship with Liam, you repeated over and over, “My soul is doomed. I am a sinner,” and then you passed out.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yes. So you can see why Liam thought it best to give you some space. He was torn up, Noah. What did your father say to you?”
“All of that, everything I was saying before I passed out, I guess. I didn’t know I was saying those things out loud, Kitty. You have to believe me, I didn’t mean to hurt him. I love Liam, more than anything, and now he’s gone.”
“What else did you father say?”
She’s fishing, for what I don’t know, but she seems to be waiting for something more than what I’m telling her. “He said he wanted me to come and live with him so he can help me find a wife and have some kids. He wants me to leave Liam. He said he watched Mom die, and it made him think of his own mortality. Now he believes he’s going to die soon because he’s an alcoholic. He thinks it’s his respons
ibility as my father to save my soul from hell before he kicks the bucket, so I won’t end up there, too. He’s trying to convince me like he has done my entire life that being gay is wrong, and I need to be fixed. He wants to fix me.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes when I think of how Liam must be feeling. When my dad dumped all that guilt on me in the cemetery after burying my mother, it triggered one hell of a panic attack.
“I see. It sounds like he made you feel guilty. Why do you think that is, Noah? Do you question your sexuality?”
‘No, dammit, of course not. I was grief stricken because of my mother, and he caught me at a terrible moment. I’m gay, that’s who I am, it’s who I’ve always been. Dad didn’t make me this way. I don’t need saving or fixing. There’s nothing wrong with me. I love Liam. I want to marry him and have a family more than anything in this world.”
She smiles with satisfaction, “Then that’s what you should do.”
Sneaky Aunt Kitty strikes again. I just had an appointment with my psychiatrist, and I didn’t even know it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Liam – Stupid, Stupid, Stupid
We’ve only been living together for a couple of months, but everywhere I look in our apartment reminds me of him. I see him, feel him, miss him. I want him back, but only if he is one hundred percent sure that he wants me, too. And after listening to him rant and scream about going to hell for being gay, I’m not sure he’s ready for an openly gay life as my husband yet, or if he ever will be.
I understand he was under a lot of stress, and his mother just died, but I’ve always believed that when you’re at your worst—drunk, on drugs, having a panic attack—those are the times when your true feelings come out. That’s when you’re honest to the core, and if Noah is afraid of being himself, I can’t be with him.
There’s a knock at the door. It’s Theo and Abe. I invited them to dinner so I could see the baby. When I open the door, I’m not surprised to see Bianca standing with them. “I didn’t bother inviting you, since I knew you’d find out and come along anyway.”
