Copyright 2002.
a) The following story is a work of fiction, and the rights of this series belong to its author.
b) It surprised me how long it took to get back to this story, and the thread of the story that runs though it's companion, Jase-n-Zach, found in the 'Relationships' section of Nifty. Hope you enjoy it as much as the previous chapters, and, as always--feel free to write.
Regards,
Bright Lite d:P
Chapter 6. A Place at the Table--
I sat impatiently at the airport with Chris' parents while we waited for his plane to arrive from Boston. They were nice people-no, they were wonderful people-and had welcomed me into their lives without hesitation after I had been introduced. Chris' father was a stockbroker, and his mother a retired housewife; I had found it hard to believe at first that they were so easy with the concept of a boyfriend, especially when Chris was their only child.
"So Eric, did you kids have any plans for tonight? You're more than welcome to stay with us-I'm sure you and Chris have a lot of catching up to do." Chris' mom smiled mischievously and glanced at her husband, who raised one eyebrow in mock suspicion.
"Somehow, I don't think we could keep the two of them apart for more than a couple of minutes at a time, anyway. It's simply a lost cause." He gripped my shoulder in a friendly way. "Just give him a little time with his old man this holiday, ok?"
I ducked my head and laughed. "Yeah, no problem. Thanks for bringing me with you, by the way."
"Chris wouldn't want it any other way. He's been talking about nothing else for the last month, and his mother and I enjoy seeing the two of you together. You're a part of our family now, you know."
As the two of them smiled at me, I got a lump in my throat and had to cough to clear it. I suddenly felt like I could do anything, with Chris at my side and the knowledge that his parents gave us their blessing. I was faintly embarrassed at the suggestion that we would be busy `catching up', but it was true-I couldn't wait to feel Chris' smooth skin against my own, and the soft, warm touch of his lips. It must have been apparent on my face, because at that moment his mother reached out and patted my knee.
"He'll be here soon, honey."
Her touch reminded me of my grandmother, and I suddenly felt an urgent need to tell her about my feelings, and about Chris. It wasn't going to go away, I knew that much; I just hoped that when I finally told her, she would be able to give me some kind of approval of her own. If there was one single thing I was afraid of, it was that she would be very much disappointed in me. Gram had never had to discipline me much growing up, mostly because she taught me there was swift and just punishment for breaking any rules. She went to church, and always read me stories from the Bible when I was little; she loved poetry and had a book of favorite poems next to her chair whose brown leather cover was worn from frequent use. I knew what Gram had expected from me growing up and felt increasingly trapped by the secret that I carried inside. If she knew-what then? It was a huge question mark in my mind. My love for Chris didn't fit anything she'd ever taught me-she'd never even discussed being gay with me, and discussions on love and the opposite sex came mostly when she encouraged me to date a few of the `nice young ladies' whose parents or grandparents she knew well. Her comments suggested that that was what I should be doing, but she hadn't pushed hard for me to do so. I sighed. Zach had told me on more than one occasion that it was time to talk about myself with Gram, and I knew I would have to do it soon if I wanted to be free from the constant guilt I felt whenever I thought about my situation.
The distinctive whine of jet engines brought me back to the present, and I watched as the plane pulled slowly up to the gate. Within a couple of minutes, the boarding ramp was in place and the first passengers began to arrive. Most looked weary, or faintly relieved; I scanned their faces as I watched for the one that I wanted.
"There he is." Chris' mom nudged my elbow, but it was unnecessary; I could have picked him in an instant out of any crowd. He looked around quickly as he stepped away from the boarding gate and locked eyes with me. His face broke into a huge welcoming grin, which I matched with one of my own.
"Eric!" His shout of happiness turned a few heads as he rushed past the rows of chairs blocking his way and dropped his backpack in the seat next to where I was standing. He grabbed me by the waist, and pulled me into a strong embrace that I returned as we rocked from side to side.
"I'm so glad to see you again." He said it in my ear, and then pulled back and looked me smiling in the eyes. "Eric-God how I've missed you." His dad broke in and put an arm across Chris' shoulders and he swung to greet them. I was left slightly off balance, and breathing faster as a happy, tingling sort of sensation warmed me up from the inside. I had missed him so much too, and secretly had worried that he would forget about me once he went back to school. It was a big place after all, and sure to be filled with a lot of other guys he could be seeing.
"Dude. Let's go."
Chris put a strong arm across my shoulder and we turned and made our way to baggage claim. He kept talking about things he'd done so far in the semester, and I listened happily, answering his questions as they came up, and asking a few of my own. In the car on the way home, we sat in the back seat with our legs touching and slouched partially up against each other. It was familiar and comforting all at the same time, and I was looking forward to staying the night and holding him close again.
"So Eric-how's work? How's Zach and Jase and the rest of the gang?" Chris smiled. "I can tell you've been hanging out with Jase a lot; you're bigger than the last time I saw you." He rubbed my chest playfully through my shirt and felt the muscles beneath.
I shrugged. "You know. . .we've been doing stuff, and I stay over with them after work now and then and watch movies. Zach and I talk a lot."
"Speaking of Zach, are they still planning on coming over to my parent's house with you and your grandmother for Thanksgiving?"
"Yeah, and you know, Zach actually thanked me for saving him from having to go with his sister to their parent's this year." I laughed, remembering the look on Kara's face when he told her. She'd given him an evil glare, probably at the thought of being alone with their parents and having to be the focus of their attention. Chris rolled his eyes and sat forward, leaning between the front seats so he could talk directly to his folks.
"I'm soooo glad I have you guys for parents, and not anyone else's."
His mom reached back and patted his cheek, while his dad looked up in the rearview mirror and smiled. I thought about that comment on the way back to Chris' house, and it made me wonder if it really was possible for Gram and I to have that same kind of relationship once I told her about myself and Chris. I wanted it so bad, it hurt. I was just beginning to form plans for the future, and key parts included telling the only family I had-my mother might as well not have existed for me, and my father had died before I ever knew him. If I wanted to move forward, it was going to be now or never.
"Chris. Can we talk?"
"Sure, anything. If you want, when we get home we can walk down to the beach and talk as long as you want." His hand closed around mine and he brought it up and kissed it.
I leaned over and whispered, "it's about telling my grandmother about us. About me." His face took on a concerned look and his grip tightened slightly. "I have to tell her before Thursday-and Thanksgiving with your parents. I just have to."
"Do you want me with you?"
"I guess. . .no, I guess I have to do this on my own." I sighed again, thinking how most of the really important challenges in life a person had to face alone. If I let Chris help me, it wouldn't be the same. Whatever the outcome, it was my choice, and the responsibility for the decision would be mine.
I stared out the window, wanting suddenly to be alone while I figured out how I was going to talk to Gram. I could feel Chris next to me, his hand warm as he held mine and rubbed my fingers gently. When he spoke, his voice was urgent and low.
"Tell me what I can do. I'll do whatever you need me to."
"I'm going to tell her tonight." The words came out without real conscious thought, but it felt right once I said them.
"You won't be staying." It was a statement, not a question.
"I don't know yet. Maybe your parents could drop me off at home." I leaned forward. "Could you take me back home? I'm not sure I can come over just yet." Chris' dad turned his head slightly.
"Are you sure? We thought you were coming back with us. . ."
"I have something I have to do." I moved slightly away from Chris, and let go of his hand. "I have to talk to her, Chris. It's really important-I can't take it anymore. I'll call you later."
He looked down at his hand, now empty, and then back up at me, his face unhappy. "I suppose I can wait. I mean, I'll see you soon anyway-I just. . .missed you so much, and now I won't even be with you when you tell your grandmother."
"Chris, you have no idea how important you are to me right now. Knowing you're here for me is what gives me the strength to do this. It's ok."
The car turned a corner and headed south on Bayshore towards where I lived. It wasn't more than ten miles around the bay between either of our homes, and I'd ridden the distance more than a few times both to go to work, and to see Chris. I knew where to find him, and I promised myself that if I could, I'd see him tonight as well.
The car pulled up into the parking lot past the condominium entrance and then came to a stop. I looked at Chris as I opened the door, and he got out on the other side and met me coming around.
"I mean it, Eric. I'm here for you. Please call me later, and I'll do anything you need me to."
He said it with the most feeling I had heard yet, and it went straight to the place in my heart that belonged to him. "I promise."
Chris caught me by the nearest arm, and pulled me into an embrace. "Call me." Giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, he pulled back and held me at arm's length. "I'll wait for you."
As he got back into the car, I felt a momentary chill come over me; I wasn't really sure I could do this without him, but I tried to look cheerful as I waved goodbye. The last sight I saw was Chris looking back at me through the rear window, one hand spread against the glass. I turned with a sigh and forced my feet to head inside.
I shut Gram's and my front door carefully, with only a small click to announce my return. The familiar sounds and smells of the kitchen had a calming effect that helped offset some of what I was feeling; I took a step forward and used that momentum to propel myself to the kitchen. It was the normal routine. Grandma almost always started supper at five o'clock, so the sounds were of the of the local news anchor coming from the small television set on the kitchen shelf, and of the vent fan humming noisily away over the stove. I could smell the earthy, yeasty smell of bread baking in the oven, and with it, the fragrant aroma of a pot roast simmering in the slo-cooker next to the stove .
"Is that you, Eric? I wasn't expecting you here tonight." She looked at me over the nearest shoulder. "Is everything ok?"
"Hi Grandma. I had Chris's folks drop me off here first." I came up behind her and gave her a hug. "Dinner smells wonderful, but then it always does."
"Thank you dear. I thought I would make it today so we could eat a nice meal tomorrow, and then I could concentrate on just making pies for the holiday. I'm too old to do it all at once anymore, you know. Did your friend make it ok?" She continued to wash lettuce in the sink, her back to me as she waited for a reply.
"Yeah, he said the flight from Boston was packed, and he spent three hours stuck in a middle seat with no way to stretch his legs or move."
"Oh, those things are cattle cars these days-it wasn't always that way sweetheart, but times change. How are his parents?"
"They're fine, they asked me to say hello for them, and that they're looking forward to having us over for Thanksgiving." I leaned back against the counter behind me and stretched my arms to either side. "Gram?"
"Yes dear?"
"What do you think of Chris?"
"What do you mean sweetheart?"
"I mean, you've only met him in passing a few times, but I've never heard you say whether or not you liked him." I braced myself for the response. The path I was on was blind, and I was headed in the only direction I could find.
Grandma stopped cutting the lettuce into two bowls, and put down the paring knife she held. Wiping her hands on the dish towel, she turned around to face me. "Well, I think he's a very nice boy, very polite, and his parents are nice folks too-why is it so important what I think? "
"Well. . ." Here it was suddenly, the moment I had dreaded for as long as I could remember. "He and I are. . .we're. . .we're really close, you know?" It wasn't enough, but I was trying hard not to just blurt out what I wanted to say and cause the look of puzzlement on her face to change to one of shock.
"So?" She smoothed the front of her apron with two fragile hands, the fingers appearing frail and the knuckles seemingly large with age. Her wedding ring caught my attention suddenly, hanging loosely as it did on her left hand, but still there even now that grandpa was gone.
"Gram-" I came forward and held the hand with the ring between both of mine. "We're like Zach and Jase. . .and. . .like you and grandpa." It was done.
She looked slightly up at me, her hand still clasped in mine, and her eyes older seeming than she was. They grew shiny and wet as she reached into a pocket with her free hand and found a kleenex to dab them with. When she spoke at last, her voice sounded broken and aged.
"How long. . .oh sweetheart, how long did you wait to tell me this?"
My voice was shaky too, and barely more than a whisper. "A. . .a while, grandma. A really long time now."
She pulled her hand back and wrapped both of them around me in a hug while we stood there in the middle of the small kitchen, surrounded by our thoughts, and the homey smells of dinner cooking. It was a long time before either of us said a word.
I pulled back finally, gently unentangling myself from her embrace. As I did so, she lifted her apron, then gripped my chin cautiously, dabbing at the tears that I could feel only as cold trails running down each side of my face.
"It's ok sweetheart. No matter what, your grandma loves you." When she said this, my vision blurred further, and I only sensed her smile as her work was quickly undone. "You children live in such complicated and difficult times, I hardly know what to make of it. Do Chris's parents. . .?"
"Do you mean do they know?" I sniffed, then laughed just a little. "Yeah, they've known since he was in junior high, I think. They've been really nice to me. . .to Chris and I, together."
"That's so nice dear. I'm glad you had someone to turn to when you couldn't talk to me. Your poor grandmother isn't perfect that way, you know. If you had just told me sooner, or if I had just understood sooner. . .it might have been differently for us." She smoothed her apron again, and picked up the knife she had been using before this whole conversation began.
I was weak and still trembling, but inside me something had lifted and I no longer felt like I had anything to hide. It was a totally new feeling, one that made me want to run the entire distance to Chris' house, shouting at the top of my lungs as I went. I could hardly wait to call him and tell him the good news. Grandma's acceptance was more than I could have hoped for, and it made me as happy as I could have ever dreamed.
"Eric," She paused briefly at her task without turning around. "I was thinking-since you were planning on staying over at Chris' house tonight anyway, why don't you invite him over for dinner first? There's always room for another place at the table, and I think I'd like to have a nice family supper with the boy who's stolen my grandson's heart." She smiled at me, and at the grin on my face that probably outmatched any to date.
I came up again behind her and hugged her gratefully, while the soft scent of roses from her perfume filled the air. Resting my chin on her shoulder, I whispered into her ear.
"Thanks, Gram. I love you too."