A Place for Cliff (21 page)

Stanislav and his wife were the last to arrive, He looked exhausted as if he had physically dragged her and the car himself just to get there. Good chances his perception wasn’t too far off, given Stanislav’s wife Frannie’s disposition on gays.

Frannie had just reached the top of the stairs along with Stanislav and came to an abrupt stop at the sight of Darko enjoying a deep kiss with his lover. Her face twisted in an expression of disgust at them and cast it on the other men in the room who seemed too accepting of the act by her judgments.
She took one look around the room and at the nine obvious gay men in the room, Pavle got off without an indictment in lieu of Maggie’s presence. But at that point what was one more fag in the room. Frannie turned tail and bolted out leaving a trail of curses and Hail-Mary’s of brimstone and a few other biblical things no one else seemed able to interpret. Stanislav of course followed after her. He hadn’t driven all the way from upstate just to turn around and go back. He hadn’t seen his brother Pyotr in a year, the visit long overdue and frankly he just needed to be here with his big brother. Stanislav, the eldest of the babies, had been their mother’s little angel. He had always been the sweet little boy in the pack and the most forgiving. Something his wife took full advantage of.

Pyotr followed them out, he wasn’t about to let Frannie ruin the weekend for the rest of the family. It had never been a secret that several of them were gay so it was absurd that she would arrive only to throw insults in their presence. He also saw the grave need in his baby brother’s face and wasn’t going to let that go unattended either.

Stanislav managed to catch his wife’s arm and pull her to a stop in the court yard under the trees. “Fran, wait. This is family. Can’t you give it a rest? Just for one day?” he pleaded with a tired argument. One they’d had too many times over the three years of their marriage. The fact that she’d had Pyotr and the others physically removed from the wedding ceremony should have been grounds enough to call the arrangement off, but he forgave her on the spot because he had not told her. He just never thought it was something that had to be brought up. He grew up with gay brothers—he thought everyone did. Until that day.

“Frannie, please it’s a holiday for family. Won’t you reconsider and come in to join us?” Pyotr called out to her before she reached the gate of the court yard.

Frannie spun around to snap at Pyotr, jabbing a finger up at his overbearing height, “You’ll burn in hell for your sins.”

Pyotr had never forgotten the hateful stunt she pulled at the wedding and even when he left the ceremony, Frannie didn’t let bygones be bygones. She made it near impossible for his brother to come visit and she stood fast on her religious beliefs. Her family’s open first class fascist insults and both religious and political catcalling were not the only values they tagged into the charge of impostordom. It also had disturbing logic that fell less then short of mad men.

That was all fine and dandy except the part that he should burn in hell for his sexual preferences and he’d since lost his patience for the argument with her. “Then we might as well learn to get along since we’ll be keeping each other company down there. Won’t we?” His voice tightened.

“Wh- What?” her mouth popped open in a morbid
o
shape, “Ah! How dare you.” her anger went from hot to volcanic at that instance.

“What Frannie?” his tilted, “Did you really think you could carry on with so much hate and not have to repent for it?”

Frannie’s mouth gaped open again. She wasn’t use to Pyotr sassing back at her. He usually threw some psychological jargons at her about unhealthy emotions or about her misplaced religious zealots to support her own fragile trust in the world, but to dare suggest that she would go to hell with him? Her hand went back with every intention of slapping the tall arrogant brother who thought everyone else had to bid by his command, but a firm grip from Stanislav on her arm not only stopped the assault, it called to silence further retort for a moment.

Stanislav’s exhausted mind drifted from the burden he could no longer bare, his eyes going up to the large picture window of the great room and his brothers, all lined up looking down at him. Darko’s hand went up against the glass reaching out to him. It ripped at his heart. He hadn’t seen any of them only Pyotr in the last three years and that was only once last year. He loved Frannie when it was just the two of them, but when others were around it wasn’t the bliss he had hoped and he missed having his family. Now with Pyotr having adopted Kimmi and having a lover, Trofim was back in the states, his brothers’ rowing team taking championship—so many thing he didn’t want to lose out on. Without even a thought his hand went up as if he could touch Darko’s still on the glass and then Pavle, Trofim and Rury and his two sisters. They all reached out for him. Only Sasha and Jovan were missing.

“Dinner is almost ready, perhaps we can all settle down for a peaceful evening in the dining room, so we can give thanks for the things we do have.” Pyotr’s voice switching to a warming welcoming. The gentle tone meant to change the mood, turn it into one more cooperative.

Stanislav felt her arm jerk from his grip, pulling his attention away from his family. He knew it was coming, he raised a hand out to beg her to keep silent, but the hateful words were already coming out and he was helpless to stop them. “I will not sit with a bunch of hell bound homosexuals and pretend to give thanks and neither will Stan.”

“If hell be damned then we are both going. I’ll keep a seat warm for you. But as of now your seat here has gone cold. I do not want you here, but Stanislav stays. I have precious little time left with my family. My brother will remain and honor me with his presence, while Kimmi still lives.”

“She dies because her brother is a homo like the rest of you!”

Pyotr turned red, his whole body clenched, his fists curling at his side so tight his knuckles turned white. “If you were one of my brothers I would surely throw you over my knee and tear your hide right now. As it is I want you out of my house NOW!”

Stanislav saw the raging pain in his brother’s face, and his heart clutched at the sight of the tear that streamed down Pyotr’s cheek. The strain so great he looked like it had taken him twenty mental bulldozers to prevent the explosion from happening.

Stanislav took hold of Frannie’s arm and lead his wife out to the car and forcibly placed her in the driver’s seat.

Frannie looked at the steering wheel then to her husband still standing outside the car, “You’re not leaving with me?” she dared to sound surprised.

“Frannie, do you love your parents?”

“What? Mom and Daddy? Of course I do—you do too.”

“Thing is, honey…” his lips rolled into a tight grimace, “I hate your parents. And I hate being around them, but I’ve put up with them for three years of holidays because I love
you
. Now I am going to stay here and frankly I don’t want you with me right now. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“Your bags will be waiting at the door.” She told him through pierced lips. Not one word hesitated as they came out as if she had rehearsed the line for some time.

Stanislav sighed, “Hopefully that’s not true, but if it is I’ll deal with that tomorrow, it will not change anything about today.” He straightened letting out a long painful sigh. He did love her, but living with her judgments on the world had taken its toll on him. He’d lived with it for a long time now, but he was not willing to give up his family as the price to stay with her. He couldn’t do it to Pyotr. And if she was right and God was turning his back on him because he was gay? Well then shame on him. Stanislav took another deep breath and did his best to let the love he felt show on his face, but he wasn’t sure she was looking for it. “Go home Frannie.”

He turned as his car drove away, nearly walking into his brother Jovan. He stilled meeting his eyes.

“You’d throw your life away for Pyotr just like that?”

Stanislav’s brows bunched up with anguish showing Jovan he clearly thought the question in itself was unacceptable. “He did it for us in 1990.” And he brushed past him not wanting to get into another discussion about the rights or wrongs of Pyotr.

Jovan starred after Stanislav, watching him head back inside. Stanislav had been too young to understand when they were forced to leave their home to come here to the states. If Pyotr sacrificed, he had it coming to him. It was his fault they had to leave in the first place. Papa had said nothing when he came back the night the soldiers drug him out of their home. But Jovan was certain it had something to do with Pyotr and his secret lover. Bad enough his brother chose to sleep with men, but to sleep with an Albanian one was far worse where they came from.

Jovan had learned to live with it but he had never forgiven Pyotr for it. The others had been young enough they were able to adjust but he was just a month away from graduating and he had a scholarship to join the university just as Pyotr had. All that gone. He couldn’t even pick up where he left off when they arrived to the states. He didn’t speak English. He practically had to start all over in school and he blamed Pyotr for that too.

As the family had gathered most of the brothers remained gathered in the living room catching up on news with each other and occasional trips to the kitchen to steal a tid bit morsel of something. The Macy’s Thanksgiving parade showed on the television in the background.

Cliff kept glancing about the room from one brother to the next always settling back to Sasha.

“What has you puzzled
draga
?”  Pyotr tugged at Cliff.

“Sasha does. All your brothers look the same except Sasha.”

Several of the guys broke out in laughter that quickly spread from brother to brother like a wild fire. Giving the obvious notion that it wasn’t the first time the difference had been mentioned.

“Sasha was our mother’s milk man baby.” Darko called out across the room.

Sasha who was sitting close to him punched him in the arm with little effect, “I was not.”

Darko was up grabbing Sasha and dragging him to the floor in an instant game of rough housing with Darko clearly at the advantage.

“Was he really?” Cliff glanced at Pyotr, not expecting any further comments from the other brother.

“Shut up Cliff!” Sasha was cursing in his direction, but it was about all he could do being pinned mercilessly under Darko’s hold.

Pyotr let out a chuckle, “No, but that didn’t stop anyone from teasing our papa about it.”

“Did he ever think he wasn’t?” Kimmi suddenly appeared next to them returning with her tea before they ate.

“Not a chance.” Jovan spoke up then, “Mama was demanding a girl. So there wasn’t a night that went by that papa wasn’t expected to perform in their bed. But there was a time she threatened to give him a red headed bastard next time, if he didn’t start putting out some
double x
chromosomes.”

“So then what happened?” Kimmi looked back to Pyotr.

Pyotr gave a warm smile,  “He gave her two.”

“That’s us!” two female voices called out from the kitchen to back up the claim and then the dark haired, blue eyed twins stepped into sight with a smile. “Supper is ready.”

Later at the dinner table they’d all pretty much stuffed themselves and no one was in a hurry to leave where everyone had a seat and the talk and jokes were still going strong, even though a few were quiet. Especially Jovan who’d somehow worked his way into a bad mood, the five or so vodkas likely playing a part in the stoking of it. But it was holiday so Pyotr wasn’t pushing to be the family doctor today though he would make himself available for his brother if he asked of him.

Kimmi was letting the food settle in her stomach the constant laughter not helping in her case. Cliff was taking advantage of her paused status and was stealing nibbles from her blueberry pie.

“Here,
draga
.” Pyotr’s arm pulled Cliff into him and slid his own pie plate over in front of him in offering to salvage what was left of Kimmi’s favorite desert, “Don’t be such a shejtan.”

“No you did not!” all eyes turned to the brooding brother at the end of the table. They’d all gone stark in their silence as Jovan stood at the end of the table red in the face glaring at Pyotr.

“Come on sit down.” Pavle who was closest whispered to his brother, placing a gentle hand on Jovan’s arm.

Jovan jerked his arm away from Pavle, “You did not just use an Albanian pet name for him.”

Pyotr nudged Cliff to sit up and he leaned forward, but said nothing. His physical position only stating he was prepared for any physical challenge Jovan was known for in their younger days.

The physical part didn’t come, but the Serbian words of pent up rage and animosity did. Pyotr came to his feet and the two went at it across the table. Pavle and Darko the next oldest trying to find some room to call a truce went unheard.

Cliff was mortified by the heated argument, and with so many of them some adding to the feud, others seemed to be attempting to settle it calmly. A few he wasn’t sure since he didn’t speak Serbian and by the look on Sasha’s and his sister’s face they weren’t able to keep up with the argument either. But then Jovan said one thing they all understood right along with the glass he tossed. “It’s because you were fucking that Albanian monkey we had to leave home in the first place!” the glass was a bad aim glancing off the table in front of Pyotr and zinged off in another direction. Cliff saw it pass in front of his face. An instant reaction, he swung at the glass knocking it out of the air just inches from hitting Kimmi in the face, sending it shattering against the wall.

Pyotr had watched the glass fly like he was seeing it in slow motion. The near hit had him raging instantly and he jumped around the table in a flash and had Jovan by the shirt, slamming him around into the wall.

“You son of a bitch! You’ve been carrying that around all this time? Why do you say this?”

Jovan tried to wrangle free, but Pyotr’s fists were curled tight into his shirt and jacket together. There was no getting free from the brother who’d kept them all safe and protected. Not to mention refereed all the fights between his siblings as they grew up.