You, Me & Her

by Tanya Chris

  “Both of them?”

  “To each other.”

  She sat in heavy silence, her eyes unfocused on the wall clock behind me which ticked steadily along like nothing had changed.

  “They know this?” she asked finally.

  “That they’re married to each other?”

  “You know what I mean, Nathaniel. Don’t sass me on top of everything else.”

  “Sorry, Ma. Yes, they both know. We all—”

  She held up a hand to stop me. “Don’t tell me things I don’t want to know. No one is doing anything sneaky. That’s all I want to know.”

  “No one’s doing anything sneaky,” I assured her. “We all care about each other. That’s all I was going to say. They love each other and I love them and they ... they care about me.”

  “Ah, Natty.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled my head into her chest. “You feel on the outside, don’t you?”

  I nodded my head against her chest, tears pricking my eyes. “But at least now I know what I want,” I told her. “I want what they have.” I wanted them.

  “And someday you’ll find it. The right woman—person—people— I don’t even know what to say to you, boy.” She swatted the back of my head, then went back to hugging me. “In whatever form it comes, someday you’ll find love.”

  “Did you and Dad love each other?” I could only remember the fighting.

  “Of course we did. Fiercely, at the start. I had to defy my family to marry him, you know. Him too. We were the original Romeo and Juliet.”

  I refrained from pointing out that Romeo and Juliet had come nearly a thousand years before Claude and Sharon Abbott.

  “My family cut me off completely. His weren’t as bad, but they were distant, and with most of them up there in Canada, it was easy to stay distant. When your father died and your Uncle Felix came by to see what he could do— Well, I wish he’d come when your father was still alive. It would’ve meant a lot to him.”

  “I don’t remember you guys ever talking about them, about either of your families.”

  “Why bother? Gone is gone. But it drove a wedge between us. By the time you came along, the wedge was in pretty deep. Then your father refused to have you circumcised and I couldn’t forgive him for it. If my family hadn’t already disowned me for marrying a gentile, having an uncircumcised son would’ve done it. He was circumcised himself, you know. It was only to hurt me.”

  “I don’t mind not being circumcised, Ma. I kind of like it.”

  “Well.” She pursed her lips in consideration. “I guess it’s your business now. Why should I care? And why should I care if you love a man or a woman or both? I’m not going to disown you, not going to make you choose the way my parents made me choose. You love whoever you want, but find someone who loves you back. If it’s not these people, don’t waste too much time on them. Promise?”

  “Promise,” I agreed, but I looked away as I did it. I had no intention of losing any of whatever time they were willing to give me.

  ~~~

  No opening night had ever made me as nervous as opening the door to my mother’s kitchen and letting in Joshua and Sherry. Ma stood at the stove, acting like it was just another Sunday. Desi sat at the table, Aubrey and Mallory on her lap and Carrington at her feet.

  “Happy birthday.” Sherry threw her arms around me and tilted her face up for the kiss I gave her. “I brought you tequila.”

  “You brought yourself tequila,” I said, refusing to take the bottle from her. I raised my eyes to Joshua behind her, then raised my mouth so he would know to kiss it. The kiss was light but mouth to mouth. When he lifted his head, he was smiling.

  My mother watched us uncertainly, her hand still clutching the knife she’d been chopping with, her grip a little too tight.

  “Maybe you should put down the knife, Ma,” Desi said.

  She laughed and put it back on the chopping block, explaining in a jumble of words that she’d been making the salad and didn’t intend to greet them with a weapon in her hand. She dried her hands on the dish towel and held one out, first to Sherry, then to Joshua.

  “You know,” she said as she shook Joshua’s hand, “I always assumed that if my son was going to date a man, he’d date a white man.”

  “Ma!” Desi squealed, but I had more faith in my mother—and Joshua—than that. I waited and sure enough the two burst out laughing.

  “Now I know where Nate gets his irreverence from,” Joshua said.

  “And now I see why he likes you. You can take a joke. Well, show them into the living room, Nathaniel, and get them a drink. Enjoy a few moments of peace. Guinevere and her crew will be here soon enough.”

  “Can I help with something?” Joshua asked.

  “Joshua cooks,” I explained. “And doesn’t drink.”

  “Better and better. Fine, he can stay and help me. The rest of you useless parasites can get out of our way.”

  “Tequila?” Sherry asked Desi.

  Desi looked at her daughters, then at the bottle. “I guess one wouldn’t hurt.”

  I found a few juice glasses—there was nothing like a shot glass in my mother’s cupboards—and brought them into the living room while Desi toted Mallory and Sherry coaxed along Carrington and Aubrey. Behind me, I heard my mother start the third degree on Joshua. That was another reason I’d never introduced anyone to her, but I knew he’d hold up under it.

  I’d had one shot of tequila, and Desi and Sherry had each had two, when Bella stuck her nose into the living room.

  “Um, Ma just introduced me to your boyfriend.”

  “Oh yeah.” I hadn’t seen Bella or Gwen to break the news more privately. “And this is his wife, my girlfriend, Sherry.”

  “I can’t even parse that sentence,” Bella said, coming over to shake Sherry’s hand, “but I’m glad to meet you. If Nate’s introducing you to our mother, you must be pretty important to him.”

  “I’m not the first woman you’ve introduced to your family, am I?”

  “To my mother, yes. Arabelle’s met a few.”

  “Arabelle?” Bella repeated.

  “That’s your name, right?”

  “I didn’t know you knew it.”

  “Long story. Short story: sorry.”

  “My name’s Arabelle,” Bella confirmed to Sherry. “My brother calls me Bella, which he should probably just keep doing, but if you call me Arabelle, we’ll be good.”

  “I can do that,” Sherry said. “Tequila?”

  “And now I like you. I’ll find a glass.”

  “Someone colored on you.” Carrington poked a finger into Sherry’s cleavage.

  “What do you think of that?” she asked before his mother could jump in to scold him.

  “It’s pretty.”

  “It is pretty,” Bella agreed. She set a highball glass in front of Sherry. “Did it hurt?”

  “Less than some places. It’s fleshy.”

  “Mine’s not,” Desi joked. “Nate, don’t you think you should intercept Gwen in the driveway, maybe give her a heads up before Ma outs you?”

  I shrugged. “Ma can handle it. What’s Gwen going to do?”

  “We’re talking about Gwen here,” Bella said.

  Gwen was the only one of us who’d embraced the Catholic side of our heritage. She’d married in the church, had had her baby baptized, and even went to church on Sundays or so she claimed.

  “I’ll catch her,” Desi said. “Can you keep an eye on them?” She took Mallory into the kitchen, leaving her other two behind.

  Carrington was still entranced with Sherry’s cleavage—he had a bit of his Uncle Nate in him—and Bella had Aubrey snuggled into her lap. I laid back on the rug and envied Carrington his view while Bella and Sherry exchanged war stories about their clientele.

  Eventually I became aware of a rise in noise level from the kitchen that indicated Gwen and crew had arrived. A few minutes later Joshua popped into the living room and took a quick seat on the floor n
ext to me.

  “Trouble brewing in there,” he said into my ear. “Seemed like a good idea to not be there anymore.”

  The voices coming from the other room were almost loud enough to distinguish words and plenty loud enough to distinguish tone. I sighed and made my way into the kitchen.

  Gwen and my mother were toe to toe near the stove, both with hands on hips. Desi, holding Mallory, looked on from one side of the room with an expression of gleeful interest while Gwen’s husband, holding their baby, looked on from the other with an expression of concerned horror. The room fell silent as soon as I walked in, but Gwen’s last words still rang in the air.

  “—with a black man.”

  “Is the church advocating racism now, too?” I asked.

  “It has nothing to do with race—”

  “Then why mention it?”

  “—I just don’t think it’s appropriate for the children to be exposed to.”

  “Your kid is two months old.”

  “Carrington’s plenty old enough to understand what he’s seeing.”

  “Carrington’s not your kid.”

  “Desdemona doesn’t like it either, do you Desdemona?”

  We both turned with to Desi.

  “Well, I didn’t know you’d actually kiss him in front of the children,” she said, hedging. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being gay—”

  “Bisexual.”

  “—but you don’t have to do it where the kids can see it. What am I supposed to say when he asks me why Uncle Nate is kissing that man?”

  “What would you say if he asked why I was kissing that woman?”

  “I’d say she’s your girlfriend and you’re kissing her because maybe you’ll get married someday.”

  “Then say he’s my boyfriend.”

  “But you can’t marry him, can you Nate?” Gwen asked. “Or her either. If you want to be in a, a committed relationship with a man, that’s one thing. It’s legal now, so what can I say? Just keep your hands to yourself, that’s all I’m asking. But polygamy isn’t legal and I don’t have to accept it.”

  “This is my house,” Ma interrupted. “I’ll say what’s going to be accepted in my house. Desdemona, I’ll thank you to remember that you live in my house. Guinevere, you’re a guest, so you can stay or go. Your call.”

  “You’d choose them over your family?” Gwen asked me, knowing better than to tangle with Ma.

  “They haven’t asked me to make that choice.”

  “You’re making it anyway.” Gwen started crying. “This is my family, too, and you’re ruining it for me. You always get everything your way. You can have as many boyfriends or girlfriends or transsexual friends as you want because you’re Nate the Great. Always so special.”

  “Guinevere,” her husband said, moving towards her with the baby, “don’t do this.”

  “Do you want to expose our children to this? You’ve always said it was a sin—homosexuality—and now polygamy on top of it.”

  “It’s just dinner. No one’s getting married. It’s Nate’s birthday. He can have his friends over. Let’s just have dinner, OK?” He hugged her, the baby between them, while she sobbed on his shoulder.

  “I want to go home.” She took the baby into her arms, shielding it from the sight of me as she stalked out of the house. Her husband shrugged apologetically and offered his hand to me as he walked by.

  “She’ll come around. It was a shock, that’s all. Arabelle’s always saying what a lady’s man you are.”

  “To Arabelle you introduced these women?” Ma asked when the kitchen had quieted down again. I ignored the question and went over and hugged her.

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  She brushed me off and turned to Desi. “You, stop stirring up trouble. You couldn’t wait to tell your sister and get her all worked up.”

  “I didn’t know she’d freak out.”

  “It was none of your business to tell any of it.”

  “Sorry, Ma.” Desi looked contrite while Ma faced her but stuck her tongue out at me as soon as her back was turned.

  I went back into the living room. Joshua and Sherry sat on the floor near each other, Carrington showing Joshua one of his trucks, their heads close to each other in earnest conversation while Sherry and Bella continued to talk around them. I wedged myself between Joshua and Sherry and kissed them each on the cheek.

  “I sit too,” Carrington said. He wiggled his way into the middle of us, his rump landing in my lap.

  “I wasn’t sure what to make of it,” Bella said, “but you three are sweet together.” Her eyes shifted to Joshua who was nose to nose with Carrington in some kind of cross-eyed staring contest. “You four, even. But you might have told me yourself, coward.”

  OK, it was true. I could have told Bella easily enough, but I’d had some idea how Gwen would react and I’d punted the job over to my mother. Who would have done fine if Desi had stayed out of it, I consoled myself as the culprit herself slunk into the room.

  Chapter 30

  “I can’t believe we made it through this.” I leaned my shoulder against Joshua’s, being careful not to mess with either our makeup or our costumes.

  “Don’t jinx it. We still have tonight to get through.” He shifted so that we fit together more snugly without destroying the careful bundle of hair at the back of my head. Together we watched Pete, Repeat, and Mikaela throw what looked like props back and forth to each other.

  “Sometimes I think she’s sorry she’s not playing the clown anymore,” I observed. She looked beautiful as Desdemona though, her own hairstyle even more elaborate than mine and the gown now altered to fit her without safety pins.

  “Is she nervous about—”

  “Shh. She doesn’t know.”

  I’d heard from Lissie that Deb was out of rehab and planning to see the show tonight, theoretically in support. I’d warned Joshua and Rebekah and even Repeat, but we’d agreed not to tell Mikaela.

  “You don’t think Mikaela will spot her in the audience?”

  “It’ll be too late for her to freak out about it by then. No point in her getting all worked up backstage before the show. Besides, maybe Deb won’t really come.”

  I worried about her motives in coming, wondering if it meant another scene. Lissie had promised she’d be by Deb’s side the whole time, but what could Lissie actually do? Especially considering that last time Deb had talked Lissie into joining her crusade against me. Lissie keeping watch over Deb might just mean two of them to contend with.

  “It’ll be fine,” Joshua said, as if reading my mind. “When I saw her on Thursday, her head was in a really good place.”

  He’d been going to visiting hours every week, since Deb didn’t have any family whose names she wanted to put on the visitor list. He’d taken Thursdays and Lissie had taken Mondays and they both agreed that Deb wasn’t angry at me anymore.

  “Five minutes,” Rebekah called above the noisy hum in the room. “Joshua, stop canoodling with Nate and get over here so I can check you. And you three,” she said, turning to the jugglers, “if you don’t stop messing with those props, I’m going to start messing with you.”

  The tone in the room changed, everyone recognizing that show time approached.

  I sat upright, allowing Joshua to answer his summons. Pete collected the balls and scepters and daggers they’d been tossing back and forth and returned them to their proper spots on the props shelf. The volume dropped to a whisper as people shifted, making final costume and makeup adjustments in the mirror, moving to their pre-places places, putting down mugs of coffee and picking up props.

  “This is it,” Rebekah said. “Closing night. Break a leg.”

  The room murmured and then Rebekah called places, and closing night, the last night of the last thing keeping Joshua and Sherry from moving away, began.

  ~~~

  Deb looked good, I thought, as I watched her congratulate Mikaela with a hug after the show. The cycle of drinking and sullen, hungover
sobriety had gone on so long that I’d forgotten what a healthy, happy Deb looked like. I hung back, not wanting to end that happy, healthy look, but eventually she made her way over to me.

  “Hey, Debra.” I smiled a humbly-uncertain smile.

  “Deb,” she said. “Deb is fine. I’m sorry about that.”

  “No, I mean, you were right. I change people’s names without their permission.”

  “It’s just a nickname, not a big deal.”

  “Well, either way.” I looked away from her. Funny how we’d once felt so normal together. “How are you doing?”

  “Really great. Well, a lot better. You know, a lot more work to do but I feel hopeful about it now.”

  “That’s good.”

  “You were great tonight, by the way. The whole show. I’m sorry I let you all down, but Mikaela did great, so I guess it worked out OK.”

  “You didn’t let us down. You were just ... sick.” I went with the term Joshua always used. If a person had a heart attack, no one was surprised they couldn’t keep their obligations. Addiction was the same, he said. “We missed you, though. Mikaela did great, but you were better.” I wasn’t trying to flatter her or placate her. Having the backstage drama die down had been a relief, but on-stage, the show was better with Deb in it.

  “Thanks.” She looked at her feet so I looked at mine. I hadn’t changed yet and my costume suddenly felt unbearably heavy and as ridiculous as it would be if I wore it out on the street.

  “I should go change.”

  “Nate?” She inhaled deeply. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about everything I said. None of it was fair and some of it wasn’t even true.”

  “I hope you know I’m sorry I hurt you,” I said in return. “I thought you wouldn’t acknowledge me in public because I didn’t mean anything to you. I didn’t get that you were struggling with—”

  “Pride. It was all pride—what people would think. Because obviously I wasn’t enough.”

  “That didn’t have anything to do with you though.”

  “Yeah, I kind of get that now. Kind of. The stupid part is that I kept doing it. Like the definition of insanity, right?”