A Lethal Legacy (12 page)

"It's probably
Mom wondering where we went last night," I said as I went into the living
room to answer it.

"Ed? It's
Pam."

"Pam? Where are
you? How's Kristina?"

"First, don't
ask where I am. Kristina's fine. She just started school last fall."

"I bet she's a
real charmer. I'm glad you called. How are you?"

"Oh, the usual,
you know. I've been thinking about all of you lately. It's pretty hard not to
when every paper I pick up has something about the wedding of the year,"
she said.

"It was last
night," I said.

"Yeah, I know.
I'm surprised you're at home, but I thought I'd give it a try. Has Gary turned
over a new leaf?"

"I'm not going
to discuss Gary with you, but I'm glad you called. We worry about you."

"We?"

"Kelsey and I.
Can I talk to Kristina? She's probably quite a little talker by now."

"Ed, I just wanted
to touch base with a friend." Pam continued as if she hadn't heard my
request. "We're doing fine, really. And I'll call again, OK?" She
sounded like she wanted off the phone.

"Good, please,
call again. You don't need to tell me. I won't tell anyone you called."

"Thanks, Eddie,
you're the best."

I kept my promise to
Pam. I didn't really have anything to tell anyway. I didn't know where she was.
Next time I would again ask her to put Kristina on the phone. She would be old
enough to talk now, and I could tell her things about her family.

We didn't see anyone
in the family, except for my parents, for nearly two months. My father would
probably retire within the next year, and they were deciding what they wanted
to do. They wouldn't get much out of the house, but at least it was paid for. I
knew my mother wanted to move to Florida and buy a little place, even a
trailer. But my father didn't like the idea.

"What's in
Florida anyway except a lot of water and a bunch of bugs," he would grouse
whenever the subject came up.

"It's a
paradise," my mother said.

"That's all you
can say, huh?"

I agreed with my
mother that the weather would be better for them in the south. But I kept quiet
in front of my father. Even at this stage of my life, I avoided the venom from
his mouth as much as possible.

During the summer of
1975, I decided to take a trip to Europe. I missed my annual treks and hoped
that a trip abroad would be like a second honeymoon for Kelsey and me. However,
when I tried to get Kelsey to come, she wouldn't even take a two-week vacation.
The new corporate headquarters for Domino's were in the planning stages, and
she was obsessed with the design. For the first time since our wedding, we
would be separated for a month, which is all I thought I could reasonably
manage without causing a rift in our marriage.

Elizabeth and Gary
spent their honeymoon in London, Paris, and Rome. They managed a month away by
themselves, but I hadn't seen them since their return. I wondered how
everything turned out once they were out of the media glare and left on their
own. They bought a new house in Grosse Pointe more in keeping with their highly
visible lifestyle. Elizabeth hoped to land a job at one of the Detroit
television stations as a news anchor and spent her days auditioning and making
tapes. We planned to get together at Easter when they would come to Ann Arbor
for the weekend.

Claire and Philip's
social life had never been so active. I wondered when Philip would be retiring
and made a mental note to get them to talk about something other than their
wonderful daughter-in-law. I did notice the last time I visited them that the
photograph of Kristina on the mantel was replaced with one of Elizabeth shaking
President Nixon's hand during her reign and the final days of his presidency. I
asked Claire about the missing photo.

"I don't know.
It really became too painful to look at it everyday. I've tucked it away in the
closet. Do you want to see the wedding pictures?"

So we pored over the
proofs that she had to choose from for her enlargements. They were all gorgeous
photos.

"Look at this,
your mother, crying. I've never understood why anyone would cry when they're
happy, do you? Crazy."

I wondered if Claire
ever cried, period. I had never seen her shed a tear even in the worst moments
after Pam left. She became depressed and sad, but she never cried.

Claire rambled on
about Elizabeth and Gary. She told me that when they went to Europe they took
ten pieces of luggage with them. This bit of news, she delivered with an air of
haughtiness as if it was a badge of honor that they owned so many clothes.
Another artificial watermark of success, I guess.

At Easter, Elizabeth
and Gary seemed very relaxed. When Gary and I could, we slipped away for one of
our walks around the neighborhood.

"So it's
working, Gar?" I asked when we were into the second block.

"I think so. You
know, Elizabeth is very sweet. She doesn't expect great things from me. Since
she was a virgin on our wedding night, she probably doesn't realize that
something's missing. But you know, when I'm with her, it's very tender, and I
almost feel something. I feel the need to protect Lizzie. I've even stopped
rubbing my fingers together. See?" He held up his hand to show me his perfectly
manicured nails. No hangnails, no bleeding, no raw spots. Everything had
healed.

"Yeah, Cuz, I
think it's going to work this time." He slapped me on the back as we
continued our walk.

I remembered I wished
as much as Gary that Elizabeth would help him heal, as I drove around a little
bit before I pulled into the parking lot of Susan's and Mom's apartment
complex. I didn't want to carry my anger with Philip when I saw my mother. She
was becoming more and more disoriented, and I needed my full concentration when
dealing with her. When I entered the apartment, I heard her singing loudly in
the kitchen.

"Mom, it's me,
Ed," I said so she wouldn't be frightened.

I found her standing
on a chair with her blouse and bra off and her arms high above her head searching
for something in the cupboard above the refrigerator.

"Mom, Mom, what
are you doing?" I groaned as I reached for her blouse flung carelessly on
the floor.

"Hi, Ed. I'm
just doing some cleaning here. I can't seem to find anything anymore so I
thought if I rearranged the cupboards, it would be easier," she said
turning around to look at me.

I tried not to look
at her exposed breasts as I handed her the blouse. "Put your blouse back
on, Mom," I said as she giggled.

"Now how did
that happen?" she asked almost to herself as she began dressing.

"Where's Aunt
Susan?"

"You know, I
can't remember what she told me, but I know she was here earlier. Now, let me
think." She put her finger in her mouth and stared off into space with a
scowl on her brow.

"That's OK, Mom,
let's have some coffee."

Susan came home soon
afterward, and I could tell by her welcoming hug that she was happy I had
returned. However, her happiness was short-lived.

After I told them
both about Gary, I noticed that my mother's reaction seemed vague. I almost
expected her to ask who Gary was, but she didn't. She just got up to make
dinner.

Susan and I sat
holding hands on the couch after she left.

"Aunt Susan, I
know I have to do something about Mom," I said.

"Yes, I did want
to talk to you about some things, but they don't seem important now
somehow." She gave my hand a gentle pat. "We'll talk when you get
back. Please tell Gary how much I've always loved him. I was always in his
corner. Sometimes I hated my brother for the way he treated Gary."

"I know, and he
loves you, too. I'll tell him."

She reached up and
touched my face before getting up to help my mother who seemed to be pulling
every pot out of the cupboard in search of something she lost.

I hated leaving Mom
with Susan, but for now, I had no choice. I couldn't be in two places at once,
and Gary needed me more than my mother right now. Susan was more than capable
of filling in for me temporarily, but it still felt like I was letting someone
down.

The next morning I
pulled into Claire and Philip's driveway in near darkness, but with edges of
light beginning to form on the horizon. I could see the kitchen light on
through the open garage door, but the rest of the house stood dark.

As I began to get out
of the car, Claire opened the kitchen door in the carport and slammed it behind
her carrying a small suitcase and overnight case. I went to help her.

"Where's
Philip?"

"He's not
coming," she said. "He's decided that he couldn't visit without
keeping his stupid mouth shut so I told him to stay here and wallow in his
miserable self."

"I'm sorry,
Claire," I said as I lifted her cases into the trunk of the car.

"Don't be. I'm
the one who should be sorry for not divorcing him long ago when I discovered
what kind of man he was. But then if I had done that, Gary never would have
been born, and I wouldn't have had you as a nephew. That's my silver lining.
Now, let's get going."

Claire always met
life's challenges by seeking out the most positive parts of the world around
her. Sometimes it meant that she dwelt on superficial things; other times it
was a solace. At least Gary had one parent who could love him no matter what.

As we sailed along
one of the longest and flattest stretches of highway in the Florida Panhandle,
Claire and I talked about many things. I found myself sharing the details of my
two failed marriages and my frustration at not being able to find someone with
whom to share my life.

"Ed, you've
always fallen for the wrong girl for you, that's all. At least you always
understood that and didn't stay in either marriage making yourself or them
miserable. Not everyone does that," she said. "Look at Philip and
me."

I looked at her in
surprise. "Thanks for saying that, Claire. I always saw myself as lacking
in something other folks had. I never cared about the same things as either
Kelsey or Allison."

"I envy you
sometimes, you know? You never got caught up in the things that have made Gary
unhappy and even Philip and me. It seems we're always searching for something
we can hold on to, like a car or house, to make us happy. You've never been
that way."

"No, and it used
to frustrate Gary, especially when he was married to Elizabeth,'" I
laughed now at the memory. "But Claire I've done some things I'm not very
proud of lately."

"Who hasn't?
That's just being a normal human being. Ed, tell me something. It doesn't
matter one way or another to me now, but I'd like to know before we get there.
Is Gary a homosexual?"

"Aunt Claire,
that's for Gary to tell you. I just told him I would tell you about his sickness.
He'll talk to you now."

"I guess that's
my answer. It does make sense now that I think about it. Pam, Elizabeth, no
reasons for the end of the marriages, both wives leaving with no word to us.
And your book? I just realized something. That was about Gary, wasn't it?"

"I used a lot
from Gary's life to write it," I admitted for the first time.

"I must not have
wanted to know at the time, but it all comes together now. Poor kid, he's
really suffered for years, hasn't he?"

I turned to give her
a grateful look. Gary made the right decision to have her come. Philip had made
an even better one by staying home.

Finally, he found the
shelter he had been seeking. The walls, made of cardboard and glue, protected
him from the cold. When he saw her sitting in the corner, the warmth enveloped
him as he approached her. He would stay here until the weather changed.

We arrived in New
Orleans, as planned, right at dinnertime. However, in Gary and Rick's
apartment, there were no signs of dinner preparations. Rick let us in the front
door. After the introductions, he told us that Gary was sleeping peacefully.
The new medication left him free of pain, allowing him his rest.

"I want to sit
by the bed; I won't wake him," Claire said after the report.

"Of course, Mrs.
Townsend, whatever you want is fine," Rick said.

"Please, Rick,
call me Claire."

He held out his hand
to her, and they walked down the hallway to the back bedroom joined together in
their mutual grief.

I tried to prepare
Claire for Gary's appearance, but no amount of telling ever prepares a person
to see a loved one in the last stages of life. Rick said she faced the reality
with a tiny gasp and a hand brought to her mouth. Immediately, he said, she
pulled the chair next to the bed and sat quietly with her hand resting on
Gary's. He left them like that and came back to the living room visibly moved.

"You told her
everything?" Rick asked me.

"She figured out
most of it. I told her Gary would have to answer her questions since I promised
to just tell them about the illness."

"Where's Philip,
darling?" he asked, feigning the limp-wrist stereotype of gay men.

"Couldn't handle
it, I guess. He got pretty upset yesterday. Actually, if you knew Philip, you'd
know that it's better for Gary this way. He'll be hurt when he finds out his
father didn't come, but believe me, if he had come, you both would be hurting
more. Gary doesn't deserve to die that way." I finally said it. I
verbalized the word "die" in regards to Gary. Somehow, the mention of
it made it seem all the more real and terrifying.

Rick covered his face
with his hands and quietly sobbed. I didn't know how to comfort him in my own
grief, so we just sat there, already mourning the man who lay a few feet away,
no longer fighting the demons that tortured him.

An hour later, Claire
staggered out of the room and came to sit by me on the couch.

"He's still
sleeping. How long will he sleep, do you know, Rick?"

"Maybe, if he's
lucky, through the night. Before I go to bed, I usually check to see if the
bedding needs changing, though. With his new medication, even that doesn't wake
him."

"Oh, God!"
Claire's agonized cry hung in the air for a long moment as Rick's words sunk
in. Gary could no longer manage his bodily functions, and this man before us
dealt with it.

"What about the
hospital? Shouldn't he be in the hospital?" Claire asked once she’d
composed herself.

"They're afraid
of AIDs patients, actually. When he was first diagnosed, he was in the
hospital. After the staff found out, they left Gary alone. Only after I ranted
and raved would someone come in to care for him. This is better."

"Aren't you
afraid? I mean isn't it highly contagious? And you're changing his
sheets?"

"I use gloves,
and I've read everything I can about the disease, which isn't much. It's not
caring for him now that scares me. I get tested every few months, but so far
all the tests have come back negative."

"Thank you,
Rick, for taking care of him," Claire said, as she leaned forward to touch
his knee. "If you have any of that reading material here, I'd like to read
it tonight. I don't think I'll be sleeping much. If you've got more gloves, I'd
like to help you tonight, too."

"Thanks, Claire.
Gary always said he had the 'bestest' mom in the world. I never believed him
until now." They smiled at one another coming to an understanding that
bonded them in their love for Gary.

"Where's
Kristina?" I asked.

"She's been in
and out. She's not handling things very well. Maybe you could talk to her,
Claire?"

"I can try.
Where is she right now?"

"Probably at her
apartment. Give her a call; she could probably use a friendly voice about now.
She hasn't been able to go in the bedroom, you know. She comes over, asks about
him, but says she doesn't have time to visit. It's hard to explain to Gary
without upsetting him."

Claire left to call
her granddaughter while Rick and I went back to our silent vigil. I had come to
respect Rick more and more over the past few years. I was glad that Gary had
someone to love him at the end.

Later that night,
Claire and Rick went into the bedroom. Together, they rolled Gary to one side
of the bed and then back to the other side replacing the soiled sheets and mats
with clean ones. Gary didn't open his eyes during the process, they told me.
Claire decided she would spend the night in Gary's room sitting in the chair by
the bed. Rick didn't argue.

When I woke in the
morning, I peeked in the bedroom, and Gary and Claire were holding hands and
talking to one another very quietly. I shut the door soundlessly and left the
mother and son to their private conversation. I went back to the guest bedroom
and wondered at how differently things had turned out for Gary and me. Gary's
slide had been more dramatic and visible than mine, especially now, but I had
sunk to lows that no one knew about but me and, of course, Kristina.

I sat on the bed and
wished I could pray or wished that something like a prayer could help me. Instead,
I remembered a time filled with great changes in both my life and Gary's.

I went to Europe
alone during the summer of 1975. Because Kelsey couldn't or wouldn't come with
me, I only stayed for a month. I saw much of France, Germany, Switzerland, and
Italy by rail, staying only a night or two in each place. Before I left, I
completed what I thought was a final copy of
Looking over his Shoulder
.
During my travels, I kept a journal, but with no particular object in mind. I
decided to take an hiatus from my second novel, which had begun easily but now
stalled as I began to realize that Kelsey and I were drifting apart. Her days
as a college radical had changed as quickly as the country's mood at the end of
Watergate. Her interests turned toward making a living and ignoring the rest of
the world as much as possible.

The respite provided
me with long stretches where I could think about my life and its direction. By
the end of the month, I felt quite ready to head back to Ann Arbor, satisfied
with my work and determined to get back on track with my wife and my writing.           

However, I came home
to a different Kelsey. In my absence, she traded her '67 Volkswagen Beetle for
a brand new Volvo. She assured me she could afford it because she had just been
promoted and given a great raise.

" I'm shocked
you would buy such a big item as a car and not even discuss it with me," I
said, feeling rather hurt at this seeming deception.

"I knew what
you'd say, 'Why spend so much money on a vehicle? My dad could get us a good
reliable Ford with his employee discount.'"

"And, he can.
What's wrong with that?"

"Ed, just forget
it. It's my money, and I wanted something dramatically extravagant for once in
my life. Let me enjoy it," she said, making me feel like the neighborhood
bully who had stolen her Halloween candy.

"I'm sorry,
Kelsey. You surprised me. It seems like a big decision."

"I'm sorry, too.
Next time I'll warn you before I make a big purchase," she laughed, and I
wondered what other surprises would come my way.

"Pam called a
couple of times in the past month,” Kelsey said. “Can you tell her about the
time difference? I think she's calling from out west someplace. One night I
complained about the lateness of the call, and she said something about it only
being nine o'clock. I know she drinks, but I think she was serious.”

"Did she leave a
number?" I asked.

"Nope, but the
last time she called, last week, I told her to try calling tonight since you'd
be home. I asked her to call at seven or eight o'clock her time, and she
agreed. I guess she might have gone to California?"

"Maybe. Sorry
she woke you, but I'm glad she's trying to get in touch with me. I feel kind of
responsible for her and the kid."

"I know you do,
although I can't say I've ever understood why, but at least you stand by
people. I hope you'll always stand by me, too," she said.

"You first of
all. But why do I need to stand by you? I'd like to lie by you instead," I
said as I took her in my arms.

Making love with
Kelsey after such a long time felt like I'd really come home. I forgot about
her new shiny car in the driveway, and I hope she forgot about everything else
as we discovered that there's no place like home. After several hours, we
decided to make Domino's work for us for a change so we ordered pizza. At 10
p.m., the phone rang.

"What do you
know. She followed directions," Kelsey said with a mouthful of pizza.

I playfully slapped
her leg and reached for the phone determined this time to find out where Pam
and Kristina lived.

"Hi,
Eddie," came the familiar voice sounding sober for once.

"Hey, Pam, I'm
glad you called."

"How was Europe?
European?" We both laughed.

"You could say
that. How's Kristina?"

"Fine, fine. A
chatterbox and all excited about school."

"Is she still
up?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's
over playing at the neighbors. Why?"

"I'd like to
talk to her sometime. Hear her voice."

"Won't do any
good, Eddie, she doesn't know a thing about you or the rest of the crew. I told
her that her daddy died. I called to tell you that I'm getting married again.
Next month. His name is Oscar Timmons. He owns the club where I've worked for
the past three years, and he's real nice to Kristina and me. In fact, he's
going to adopt Kristina." She seemed breathless at the end of her recital.

"Why not tell me
where you are, Pam? What does it matter now?" I worried with a new husband
that she might stop all contact with me.

"Not ready yet.
I'll keep in touch though. You never knew when I might need the Townsends'
millions. I won't be working so much after we're married, but Oscar spends
every night at the club, you know, protecting his investment, he says. I'll
call regularly, OK?"

"OK, Pam, don't
forget that I'd like to talk to Kristina next time."

"Where's she
living?" Kelsey asked when I hung up the phone.

"Won't say, but
she's marrying again. Some guy who owns a club where she works."

"Sounds like
Vegas to me," she said before going back to the old movie on TV.

"Maybe. She says
she'll still keep in touch with me though," I said.

For the rest of the
summer I decided it was time to get to work again on my second novel,
When
Beauty Fades
. I also tried to spend time with Elizabeth and Gary, but they
were swept up into the social life of Grosse Pointe and that didn't include
Kelsey and me. They did like Kelsey's new car though.

When a new publishing
firm opened in Ann Arbor, I visited their offices hoping to speak to an editor.
Because it was a small place, I instead spoke to the publisher himself. A New
Yorker by birth, transplanted to Michigan by choice, he decided to take a small
inheritance left by his father and merge two of his favorite hobbies, writing
and reading. I told him about my first novel, and he seemed interested.

"Now, I'm a
small firm, but what I could do is print it here and then try to sell the
rights to a larger publishing house who would promote and sell it to the
public. Bring it in, let me read it, and we'll see," he said, shaking my
hand as if we were sealing a deal.

Even though it wasn't
official, I felt like I finally had a good chance of being published. However,
I had one thing keeping me from being too excited. I needed to tell Gary about
the book. I pondered for a week about how I could tell him. I also had to tell
Kelsey who had never shown any interest in even reading the novel.

I decided to practice
on her. I told Kelsey about the publisher, Eugene Haslett, and she seemed
interested.

"How much did he
offer?" she asked.

"How much did he
offer? That’s all you have to say?"

"It’s an
important question, Ed. You've been working on that thing for years and not
bringing in any money during the summer months, and now you have a chance to
recoup your losses. It matters," she said.

"It seems that
first you would ask about the subject of the book."

"Sorry. What's
it about?"

"It's about a
lost soul always searching for the wrong pot at the end of the rainbow," I
said.

"That's why I
didn't ask. I knew you'd give me a bunch of mumbo jumbo about some ethereal
subject."

"Let me try
again since you obviously didn't like my first description. It's about a
homosexual who does everything in his power to deny his true desires just so he
can please those around him."
What was happening between the two of us
that she couldn't understand my first description of the book
, I wondered.