Outside Looking In: A Browerton University Book

by Truman, A. J.

  Liam could see the struggle on Mark’s face. Hindsight was easy. The present, not so much.

  “We’ll never know,” Mark said. “You didn’t give any of us that chance. She cared about Nathan. The secret she had to live with her whole life…I don’t know how she bared it.”

  He pulled the second journal from under his arm. “This is from seven years ago. May ninth: Another year older. I wonder what you’re up to. I wonder what kind of student you are. Maybe you’re in all the smart classes, unlike me. Or you’re the star of your football team, unlike me. Maybe you’re a straight arrow, unlike me. But I hope tonight, you do something just a little bit wild, like I would’ve done at your age. Smoke a joint. Stay out really late.” Mark let out a tearful guffaw. He broke, and the tears fell. “I’ve been tempted to find you online. It’s like an alcoholic staring at a liquor bottle. But I can’t. It would be too painful to find you, to have to explain how I abandoned you. It’s better you be with your own family and never think of me.” He snapped the journal shut tossed it on the coffee table. “I always felt some distance between Mariel. I knew she loved me, but there was a part of herself she was hiding.”

  Liam felt the same about Nathan, and he thought about the secret he had to carry everyday, the shame. He looked over at his niece and nephew, who were crying like their dad.

  “Your grandchild was out there in the world, and you didn’t care,” Mark said.

  “He is not my grandchild! He was a mistake, a mistake that should’ve stayed buried,” Pastor Fry said.

  “He’s not a mistake!” Franny yelled. “He’s my brother, and you’re a jerk, grandpa!”

  Pastor Fry turned red with anger. “Are you going to let your daughter speak to me in that way?”

  “No, no I’m not,” Mark said. “Franny, do not call your grandfather a jerk.”

  Franny hung her head and nodded that she understood.

  “Call him a fucking arsehole prick instead.”

  Every jaw dropped to the floor. Franny and Walt giggled in shock. Liam had never seen this side of his brother. And probably, neither had Mark.

  “Get out of my house,” Mark growled at his in-laws.

  Pastor Fry and Brenda left without saying a word. Mark and Mariel would’ve worked through what happened in London, Liam believed. It would’ve been a tough pill to swallow for his brother, but they would’ve made it. They were in love. They would’ve made it through.

  Chapter 30

  Nathan

  Nathan didn’t want a drink. He wanted to feel drunk. He wanted to turn the world into a blur. When he had gotten extremely drunk, he blacked out during fun moments – in pubs or in bed. Why couldn’t he have blacked out that whole scene in the lobby? Why couldn’t he have had zero recollection of Mark’s reaction to his admission, of Liam refusing to look at him and walk away?

  His dad had booked them a suite at a luxurious hotel in downtown Wellington, one that overlooked the ocean. From his balcony, Nathan could see the restaurant where Liam had taken him. Another memory for which he wanted to be blacked out. The TV blared in the background, but he couldn’t pay attention. His mind kept drifting to yesterday and the mess he made of everything. His mum was smart to keep her distance. He’d found a way to ruin her life posthumously.

  His heart ached over Liam, but what did he expect? All he did was lie; Liam wouldn’t want to stick around for that.

  Room service knocked politely at the door. Nathan opened up, and the waiter wheeled in a cart of food. His dad walked in behind him. It was close to midnight, but his dad was starving. He was on London time. Nathan’s stomach growled, too, but he got nauseous at the thought of putting food into his mouth.

  The waiter set their table and pulled off two plate covers. Steam rose from their meals.

  “This looks delicious,” Nathan’s dad said. He tipped the waiter nicely. He then hugged Nathan and awkwardly kissed him on the head, then sat down to eat. All this fatherly affection was new for Nathan, but he could get used to it. He appreciated that his dad was trying.

  He motioned for Nathan to join him at the table. Nathan put the plate cover back on his food.

  “I was able to book us on a flight home tomorrow evening. I got us the last two first class seats.”

  “Smashing,” Nathan deadpanned.

  “I don’t know if I’m overtired or ready for another day. I think I’m on my fourth wind.” His dad shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.

  “What about my stuff?” Nathan asked. “My stuff is at Liam’s.”

  A pang of hurt stabbed at him. He was going to miss that tiny shed.

  “I’ll…I’ll go and get it.” From Mark’s. Mariel’s two lovers would have to come face to face. Nathan couldn’t imagine that would be easy for him, or would it since so much time had passed?

  “How are you doing?” Nathan asked him. His dad gave him a look, surprised at the question.

  “It’s all very strange. Very, very strange.”

  “What was it like when you found me?” Nathan realized he never knew this side of the story.

  “I freaked the fuck out.” His dad moved his fork around the plate, but didn’t take a bite. “I was so scared. The night before, I was at a pub drinking with colleagues. The next morning, the doorbell rang, and there you were with a grainy photograph from that bloody concert. I became an instant father at twenty-five. I felt like my life was ripped away from me. I was angry. I took it out on her. I never wanted you to know about your mum. That was my form of revenge for what she did. She wouldn’t get to hold a place in your memory. But I wound up hurting you the most. I blamed you, because you were as close as I could get to her. I am deeply sorry.” He rubbed Nathan’s leg, and his voice got heavy with emotion. Nathan never saw his dad cry. Not because he was the strong and silent type, but because they’d never been together in a situation that would involve tears. Things never got emotional between them. “I threw money at you to shut you up and tried to live the life I wanted. I didn’t do right by you.”

  “Dad, it’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not! The alcoholism, the expulsions. It’s because of me, because I didn’t give you what you needed.” He wiped away his tears, but more came. Nathan gave him a tissue box. He had never seen his dad like this. Emotions poured out of him that were locked up for twenty-two years. “I always knew you would have questions about your mum, but I didn’t want to answer them. I wanted to forget, and I tried to make you forget.”

  “You tried to forget in some of the best resorts in the world.”

  “I tried to run, but the pain I felt, the pain I knew I was causing, was always with me.” He pointed at his heart. “You were suffering, and I shut you out.”

  It was everything Nathan wanted to hear. Justice. Vindication. But it didn’t satisfy him, not when he saw that his dad had been punishing himself this whole time.

  “I really hated you,” Nathan said. “But you’re the only family I’ve got.”

  “When you go to rehab again, I’m going to show up for every family visitation. I’m going to make sure you stay sober.”

  “I am sober, Dad.”

  His dad tried to hide his surprise. Nathan couldn’t blame him. He was just as shocked saying that as his dad was hearing that.

  “I can’t believe it either.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “It’s all right. Working on that farm and being with those wonderful people made me want to stay clean.”

  “I know it will be a hard transition back to London.”

  “I think I can do it, though,” Nathan said. “It would be so easy to fall off the wagon again. I would have so many people to blame for it. You, Mum, Pastor Fry, Liam. But I’m tired of blaming people.” Nathan saw how great life could be when he stayed sober, when he surrounded himself with people who cared about him. He was going to miss the Fosters like hell, but he made a pact with himself to find quality people in London. “I’m ready to do this for myself. I’m going to
go to an AA meeting tomorrow before we go to the airport.”

  “I’m proud of you.” His dad patted his hand.

  “You don’t have to be proud of me for not being a drunken disaster. That’s quite a low bar.” He wanted people to be proud of him for actual accomplishments.

  “I’m proud of you always. And honestly, I’m proud of you for working on a farm for more than a day. Hell, an hour.”

  “Right!” Though secretly, Nathan found that he enjoyed it. “I need a holiday from my holiday.”

  “How about we take a father-son trip? There’s this Ritz Carlton resort in Costa Rica I’ve been dying to go to. Your stepmom has refused because of the humidity.”

  They laughed. Nathan ripped off a piece of a roll and tossed it into his mouth.

  “What does she think about all this?” Nathan asked.

  “She knew that your mother was long out of the picture and that I didn’t have to pay any kind of alimony, so she was fine.”

  “She can channel any lingering frustration into decorating another room.”

  “I hope so. The woman may have her faults, but she has great taste.”

  Nathan looked up from his food and saw that his dad wasn’t joking.

  “Oh, father. I have failed you as a gay son.”

  * * *

  Nathan’s appetite came back a little bit more, and over room service dinner, he regaled his dad with tales of farming and Mariel’s acting career. His dad never got a chance to see her perform. “Unless you count the night I met her, when she put on a cockney accent to fool me into buying her a drink!” He and Mariel were not soulmates, not by a long shot, but they were connected by Nathan. They always would be.

  “She sounds like a wonderful woman,” he said.

  “She does. I wish I could’ve seen her on stage. When I get back to London, I’m going to sign up with an acting teacher and to go back on auditions.”

  “You don’t sound too excited,” his dad said.

  “I am, but…”

  “A part of you wishes you were on that farm.”

  “Is that crazy?” He wondered if his mum had the same tug-of-war between city and rural life. It wasn’t so much the farm as the people who were there.

  “I think you’ll forget all about the farm once you’re back walking the streets of London.”

  Just before midnight, the hotel phone rang, an annoying old-school clang that made Nathan want to cover his ears.

  “Hello?” his dad said when he picked it up. His expression changed throughout the call. “Yes…Oh…all right…we’ll be right down.”

  Nathan hung on every vague word. “What is it?”

  “Mark Foster is in the lobby.”

  * * *

  The lobby was quiet save for the music coming from the hotel bar. Mark sat in a chair with a paper shopping bag waiting between his ankles. He stood when he saw Nathan walk over.

  “Nathan.”

  They shook hands, but it didn’t feel right. It was too proper for them.

  “It’s late,” Nathan said.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you. I called around to all the hotels looking for Roger Hargrove. I wanted to catch you before you left.”

  “I don’t leave until tomorrow evening. How do you know my father’s name?”

  From his shopping bag, Mark pulled a black, worn journal with dust wiped off the cover. Mark didn’t have to say whom they belonged to.

  “This is what you were looking for in the basement?”

  Nathan nodded.

  “I did some digging tonight.” Pain surged across Mark’s face. He had to sit down. “Nathan, I want to apologize, on behalf of my family.”

  “No, I need to apologize. I’m sorry for lying to you and your kids.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you. Mariel explained everything in these journals. Her parents threatened to institutionalize her and take away Franny and Walt if she ever breathed a word about you. They were so ashamed of her and…so cruel.”

  Nathan saw how they reacted at Franny’s dress. He could only imagine what they said when their already rebellious daughter got knocked up in a foreign country.

  “They never should’ve kept her away from you. No matter what the circumstances were.”

  “It wasn’t too Christian of them,” Nathan said.

  “Mariel was forever rebelling against them. I think that’s why she got into theater, so she could be women she wasn’t allowed to be at home.” Mark handed the shopping bag over to Nathan. “I want you to have these.”

  It was filled to the brim with journals, some leather-bound, some dollar-store ones, some in better condition than others. An entire life tucked snuggly into a single bag.

  “Are you sure? These are Mariel’s personal items.”

  “You deserve to know who your mother was. She never stopped thinking about you. Every May ninth, she would write an entry to you wondering about what you were up to.”

  “Why May ninth?”

  Mark cocked his head to the side. “Because that’s your birthday.”

  Nathan’s eyes opened wide. “May ninth is my birthday? It’s not May thirteenth?” He turned to his dad. “I have a real birthday!”

  “I found Nathan on my doorstep May thirteenth,” his dad explained to Mark. “We put that as his official birthday.”

  “I have a real birthday!” Nathan threw his arms open and shouted it for the entire hotel lobby to hear. He felt like Geppetto had made him a real boy.

  “Hard out!” Mark said.

  Nathan got quiet, his elation replaced with a different kind of warmth. “That means Mum spent four days with me.”

  It was a blip compared to the time most kids got to spend with their mothers, but Nathan would take it.

  Mark picked up the paper bag. “I also included photographs and programs for you. I spent the past few hours digging through her possessions in the basement. Walt is going to upload her performance videos to YouTube and send you a private link. He knows more about that than I do.”

  “Mark, thank you so much.” Nathan’s throat clogged with emotion.

  “We’ll pack up and box your stuff and ship it to you in London, if you’d like.”

  “You’re ready to get rid of me, I reckon.” Nathan smirked.

  “Just the opposite. I don’t want this to be the end, Nathan. You have an open invitation to come back to our house whenever you want. You can email or call me if you ever have questions about Mariel. She was your mother, and I will never restrict information. Also,” Mark cleared his throat. “whenever you want to visit or talk to Franny and Walt, that is your right. I know things are in a very precarious place currently, but they are your siblings, and you deserve to have a relationship with them, if you choose.”

  “I would like that,” Nathan said. Inside, his heart was lighting off fireworks. He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to them. He didn’t even get to see Franny perform. “Would they?”

  “I think they would,” Mark said with a knowing smile.

  “How is everyone doing?”

  “It’s been an interesting few hours. My kids have asked me more questions than they have since they learned what sex was. It’s the first time when I wish they would go back to reading their mobiles.”

  “I am sorry about that,” Nathan said.

  “Don’t be. This whole development has been unorthodox to say the least, but I’m glad I got to meet you and know you.”

  “Likewise,” Nathan said. He had his real father and something like an older brother in Mark, plus real siblings. There was only one person missing. “Have you spoken to Liam?”

  “He’s…” Mark scratched at his neck. “He’s still processing.”

  Nathan had a feeling he would be “processing” for the rest of his life, and if Nathan ever came to the farm again, he would stay locked away in the shed.

  Mark gave Nathan a hug and wished him a safe trip home.

  “I hope this isn’t the last time we talk,” Mark said.r />
  “Really?”

  “Yeah. You’re family, Nathan.”

  It was a nice word to hear.

  Chapter 31

  Liam

  The next day was rough. Not only was Liam having to work double-time on the farm but he couldn’t stop thinking about Nathan not being there. He listened out for other footsteps or someone cursing in a tangy British accent, but his farm was quiet. Not even Tilly and the other sheep were giving him ambient noise. And the silence made his thoughts go to yesterday.

  Nathan was Mariel’s son. Nathan was lying to him this whole time. And now Nathan was gone.

  His feet seemed to covered in concrete, and his body moved like mush, as if he completed a marathon without stretching. In the shed, Mark was packing up Nathan’s things to send back to London. Soon, he and Nathan would be half a world apart. It would get easier, he told himself. When Kelly left, he felt awful, but it got easier. He wasn’t even Facebook friends with Nathan, so that would help.

  Who the fuck am I kidding? This hurts so much more than Kelly. Liam thought back to their break-up. He was angry and hurt that she’d cheated on him. But did he miss her like he did Nathan? Did it feel like someone had torn muscle from his bone? He’d found Mark’s old ad looking for a farmhand, but he didn’t have the heart to post it yet. Maybe tomorrow, when the wound was slightly less fresh.

  “Do you need any help out here?” Mark joined Liam, who was shoveling at the manure pit. “I may be a bit rusty, but I still know my way around a farm.”

  “I’m good.” Liam wiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. “How’s packing going?”

  “I’m done. He didn’t bring much.”

  “Just a suitcase.” Liam remembered the sight of him dragging that fucking suitcase through his farm in the middle of the night.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s good to see you smiling.”

  “You too, brother,” Liam said. “That was pretty awesome last night. I’ve never seen the Pastor speechless.”