The Perfect Family (16 page)

“It’s about time, then, don’t you think?”

“Oh, man, do I.”

*

The morning after Jamie told Brian he was gay, Maggie headed for the gym at RCC to meet Gretta. They worked out together whenever they could—Gretta had bought a membership in the college’s facility after she quit teaching. Maggie arrived early and warmed up on the treadmill, waiting for her friend. Though Jamie had lifted the caveat on telling Gretta, Maggie had indeed waited until Brian knew.

And now he did. What happened between her sons had made her physically ill. After Brian had gone to sleep, she’d locked herself in the downstairs bathroom and cried so hard she made herself sick. She felt such raw fear, such hopelessness, she wasn’t able to contain it.

Gretta entered the gym from the locker room, tall and lithe, wearing a cotton peach sweat suit, not unlike Maggie’s red one. After greeting her, Gretta hiked up on a treadmill.

“How was your trip?” Maggie asked.

“Great. I took a class on small art gallery ownership at the Chicago Art Museum.” She rolled her eyes. “And listen to this. Tim got mad that I was gone a week.”

“Maybe he just missed you.”

“I’ll never understand men. He travels all the time with his job and he’s impatient and preoccupied when he
is
around. Then he has the nerve to criticize me.”

Tim owned a business in Rochester. He commanded a hefty six-figure salary, and Gretta made plenty of money with her artwork, but like everyone else, they had their problems.

“I don’t blame you. This has been a bone of contention between you two, but I thought he was going to hire a new VP who could share some of the traveling.”

“Fell through.” She shook her head. “Anyway, tell me about you. How’s Caroline doing?”

“It’s so great to talk to her, hear her voice, learn about her life. I can’t wait to see her.”

“Have you told Sara or your mother yet?”

“No. I won’t until Caroline says it’s okay. That’s what she wants.”

Just then, Damien Kane walked by. Dressed in sleek black workout clothes, he was sexy and fit.

“Morning, ladies. Nice to see you, Gretta.”

“Hello, Damien.”

He nodded to Maggie and gave her a suggestive smile. “And, Mrs. Davidson, you look as good in sweat clothes as you do out of them.”

“Go away, Damien,” she said. “Girl-talk time.”

When he left, Gretta frowned. “Hell, could he be any more obvious?”

“He’s harmless. He flirts with everybody.”

Gretta grunted. “I think it’s more than that on his part. And Mike has good instincts and doesn’t like the guy. Unless you want to risk your marriage—” She stopped short. “What’s the matter, Mag?”

Her eyes blurred.

“Is it about Damien? Is that what you’ve been keeping from me?”

She shook her head, unable to get out the words.

“Sunday’s Easter. Is it the prospect of seeing your mother?”

“No, it’s what I wanted to talk to you about but couldn’t.”

“Then let’s knock off here and sit down.”

When they were settled in the school café at a table in the corner, Gretta’s face was troubled. “Tell me.”

Maggie wrapped her hand around a mug full of coffee, letting its steam warm her. “I couldn’t tell you before you left. Now it doesn’t matter because people at school know. Jamie told me two weeks ago that he’s gay.”

The plastic bottle of water slipped out of Gretta’s hand and hit the table with a thud. “Wow! We talked about this before, but hearing it confirmed…oh, Mag, I’m sorry.” Tears coursed down her cheeks and she swiped at them impatiently. “I shouldn’t be crying. It’s not a tragedy. But I’m worried about how hard life’s going to be for him.”

Maggie’s throat felt like a sock was stuffed in it. “Me, too. I’m worried about that.” She shifted in her seat. “There’s more.”

“Oh, God, Mike! He must be devastated.”

“He’s struggling. So is Brian.”

“I’ll bet.”

When Maggie recounted what had happened after Jamie’s disclosure, her spirits plummeted even more. Spoken aloud, it all seemed so stark.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“I never expected this, Gretta. I knew Brian and Mike might have a hard time because of the church, but not that they’d be so irrational about Jamie being gay.”

Gretta sat back against the vinyl chair and sipped her water. “You know, none of this is in your control. You have to let them find their own ways, Mag.”

“I’m not sure they will.”

“Maybe you’re not giving them enough credit.”

“I don’t trust Mike and Brian to handle this well. Alone, anyway, without my vigilance.”

“You can’t protect them. You always try, but I don’t think interfering this time will work. They’ve got to find their own ways back to Jamie themselves.”

“What if they don’t, Gretts?”

Her friend waited a long time before she answered. “You’ll always be Brian’s mother, no matter what. But Mike? If there were sides to choose between him and Jamie, who would you pick?”

Maggie said simply, “Jamie.” She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying that. Mike’s the love of my life, but it’s true. I’d choose Jamie over Mike if I had to.”

Gretta took her hand, clasped it tightly. “For what it’s worth, Mags, Amber will always be my top priority.”

Behind Gretta, a group of students entering the café caught Maggie’s attention. Each of the boys had his arm around a girl, hugging her close. Maggie was instantly jealous. They seemed so normal, so untroubled, and she longed for that kind of normalcy in her life now. She averted her gaze to her coffee cup, ashamed.

“What are you thinking?”

Her friend’s compassion and matter-of-factness allowed her to admit to Gretta what she’d told Melissa. “Sometimes I wish my family could go back to how they were a month ago. Sometimes, I wish Jamie wasn’t gay.”

“That’s normal, Mag.”

“But it isn’t right. It isn’t fair to my son.”

“You’re so strong. You’ll get beyond this.”

Right now, the compliment fell flat. Maggie felt as vulnerable as a newborn kitten and hated it!

Maggie’s mother, Gertrude Lorenzo, sat at the head of the table in her daughter Sara’s house as if
she
was the one who’d risen from the dead on Easter Sunday. Her gray hair was cut sharply around her face, her nose long, her eyes a muddy brown. Every time Mike was with the woman he wondered how Maggie had turned out to be such a kind, sensitive person having come from a woman like that. As a Christian, he tried to be forgiving, but it was tough to be charitable about his mother-in-law.

“Michael,” Gertrude pronounced with a raspy voice. “You say grace.”

His gaze connected with Patrick’s, who was the head of the Baker household and should be doing the prayers. Pat hid a grin and nodded. Years ago, he and Mike had agreed to give Gertrude a wide berth.

“I’d be glad to say grace.” He caught Maggie’s grateful expression. Though she wore a cheerful yellow cotton sweater, and her dark hair curled softly at the shoulders, she seemed tired today. Regretting his role in that, he said, “Let’s all grasp hands.”

The nine people around the table reached out to each other. Brian was between Allison and Haley, Sara’s kids. Jamie sat as far away from his brother as he could get. The fiasco of their midweek showdown lingered over the house like a fog. Though the boys had talked to Maggie that night, Mike had tried unsuccessfully to discuss the incident with each of them. Jamie seemed to resent his probing and Brian absolutely refused any dialogue.

As always, he and Maggie had hidden Easter baskets full of small gifts and candy, but the kids went through the ritual without any enthusiasm. Now they had to deal with Gertrude, which was tough even in the best of times. Inside, Mike was a wreck.

“Dear Lord,” he began. “Thank you for this bounty. Thank you for our family. Let us heed your message to us on this day—you are here, unstoppable by sin and sinners. Reveal your will and help us to live a pure and moral life by abiding by it. Amen.”

When he looked up, Gertrude was smiling. “Amen. Michael you’re a blessing to this family. Mary Margaret, remember that and be grateful.”

Mary Margaret
did not seem grateful. The narrowness of her eyes and taut jaw told Mike she was angry. At her mother’s condescension? At his prayer? He’d spoken from the heart but maybe he’d offended her. It didn’t take much anymore.

They ate their turkey and trimmings, served as a buffet from the kitchen, in relative silence. Mike was the one to break it. “Are you enjoying your stay with Sara, Gertrude?”

“Yes. Except I can’t smoke in the house.”

“Smoking is bad for you,” Patrick, the doctor, asserted. “Especially after your vocal cord surgery and the swelling that comes and goes.”

Gertrude sniffled. “And Jimmy’s not here. That breaks my heart.”

Sara shared Maggie’s dark eyes and hair, but hers was cut severely at the chin and she was thinner, a bit harder, than her sister. She covered Gertrude’s hand. “Jimmy’s at his in-laws’. You spent Christmas with him.”

“Sons should be with their mothers.”

But not daughters? Given the circumstances with Caroline, his mother-in-law’s remark was unbelievable. It was as if her oldest child didn’t exist anymore. The woman was in for a very big blow.

Contrary to what Mike had hoped for, Caroline’s reappearance was exacerbating Maggie’s negative feelings toward the church. Instead of being grateful for having Caroline back and forgiving the old priest for advising the Lorenzos to send her away, Maggie seemed even more resentful. And now Jamie’s circumstances were adding to her bitterness about his faith. What was God’s plan here? Mike wondered to himself for the hundredth time.

Thankfully, Allison poked Brian in the ribs and broke into Mike’s morbid thoughts. “Where’s your girlfriend today, Bri?”

Brian gave a half smile. “I had brunch with her family this morning. They, um, have a hard time at holidays. Her father moved out around this time.”

Because her father had cheated on her mother. Mike couldn’t imagine how he’d handle that happening. It was inconceivable to think of Maggie with another man. The thought led to a quick prayer to do better in supporting her.

Patrick picked up the ball. “You could have invited Heather and her mother.”

“Not if the woman’s divorced.” This from Gertrude, in a deadly grave voice. “It’s a sin.”

Jamie straightened. “Grandma, I thought Easter was supposed to be a time of forgiveness and redemption.”

“Some things can’t be forgiven.”

Sara squirmed in her chair. She was in for a shock, too, when Maggie revealed their
two
secrets. “How’s work going, Mike?” she asked.

“Fine. Long hours lately, though.”

“A man who works as hard as you do needs time off.” Gertrude turned to Maggie. “You should take better care of him.”

His wife glanced away. Avoidance worked best with her mother.

Jamie scowled. “Grandma, Mom’s got a job, too.”

“But he’s the man, and men support their families. You’ll find out when you grow up and get married. Your mother should be staying home with you, like Sara did with her girls.”

Though Sara rarely bucked Gertrude, she loved her sister, too. “Maggie’s made choices that work for her, Mother.”

Dead silence. Gertrude Lorenzo’s favorite weapon.

Finally the interminable meal ended. Brian went outside, ostensibly to call Heather, and Mike and Patrick escaped to the living room, while the women began to clean up. That was the process in this house. Instead of going with the guys, Jamie picked up some dishes.

At the doorway to the living room, Mike studied his son. Images bombarded him: Jamie wanting to learn to bake with Maggie, preferring to play with the girls down the street instead of the boys, eschewing sports and loving poetry. Like helping out today in the kitchen, there had been signs all along that his son was different. Mike wondered how he’d missed them, and what he could have done to change Jamie if he’d picked up on them earlier.

*

“Jamie, go watch baseball.” Gertrude Lorenzo’s voice was strident and grated on Maggie’s frayed nerves.

“I don’t like to watch baseball unless Brian’s team is playing.” He glanced at Maggie and gave her a shy smile. She knew he was thinking about Luke on the team, and how great it felt, as he said, to have a boyfriend. She winked at him.

“Well, go play on the computer.”

“After I help clean up.”

The most Jamie got to do was bring in plates, then Sara kicked him out of the kitchen. He left Maggie with a sympathetic glance.

“Jamie’s different, Maggie,” her mother said.

You don’t know the half of it
, Maggie thought as she scraped food from the plates into the garbage disposal. “He’s considerate, Ma.”

Allison, pretty and petite like her mother, was putting out chocolate mousse, flaky apple pie and a variety of Italian cookies on the kitchen table. “I’m going to marry somebody like him. I’m not going to do all the grunt work myself.”