The Perfect Family (28 page)

“I’m going out.” He pushed away from the wall. “I have to think about this.”

As Maggie watched him take the same path Jamie had, she wondered for the first time how she could accept a man who wanted to send his son away to a place that could very well destroy him.

*

Feeling like his insides had been shredded, Jamie sat on the edge of Luke’s bed in a room twice the size of his own, with a private bath attached. One whole wall was filled with a desk, computer system, and stereo equipment from which blared some hard rock. Jamie had ended up here after he called Luke from the car and Luke told him to come over. His parents were at the country club playing in a Scotch tournament.

“No way am I going to one of those camps,” Luke was saying. “I’ll run away first.”

At his words, Jamie’s pulse began to beat fast. “I hate when you talk like that.”

Luke paced the room without responding.

“Maybe my mom can help. She disagrees with my dad.”

“I can’t believe our fathers met to discuss sending us to one of those places.” Luke’s fists curled at his sides and his blue eyes were wild. “At least your father told you what he did.”

And assured Jamie he loved him. Poor Luke never got any of that.

“I’m sorry. My mom could talk to your mom, and she can work on your dad.”

“My mom always agrees with my father. She always takes his side.”

Jamie was beginning to realize how lucky he was. He remembered times in his house when his parents didn’t agree on issues about him and Brian but respected each other’s opinions and compromised. And now that he’d calmed down, he thought of some of the ways his father had tempered his words.

“We have to plan.”

“Plan what?”

“How we’re gonna get away from them.”

Even though things were a mess at home, Jamie wasn’t sure he wanted to get away from his parents, especially his mother. “Luke, you’re not thinking straight.”

“I don’t give a fucking rat’s ass.” He picked up a CD Walkman from his desk and flung it across the room. It smashed into pieces and gouged a hole in the drywall. Then he began to pace again.

Now, Jamie’s heart raced. “Luke, settle down. Think about this in another way. You’ll be gone in a few months.”

The comment made Luke stop, though his face was still grim. “Yeah, I guess. If they let me go to college.”

“You got tons of scholarships. You’ve been accepted at top schools. They can’t keep you from college. You’re eighteen.”

The notion seemed to calm him and his body relaxed. “So how do we deal with them until then?”

“I don’t know. We could talk to Ms. Carson. She might be able to help us.”

“Jamie, talking about this won’t make my parents hate me less.”

“They don’t hate you.”

“You’re so naïve sometimes. Because your parents’ love is unconditional, doesn’t mean everybody’s is.”

He thought of Grandma Lorenzo and what she’d done to Aunt Caroline, what she was still doing to his mother.

“Let’s get out of here,” Luke said. “We’ll get some beer and go for a drive. My parents will freak if they come home and find us together.”

“I guess.”

“I gotta take a leak first.” He crossed the room, leaned over, and kissed Jamie on the mouth. “Sorry I’m not dealing with this as well as you, Jame.”

“I’m bummed, too.”

When Luke left, Jamie couldn’t sit still so he slid off the bed and wandered over to the desk. It was neat and tidy, but the drawer beneath it was ajar. Inside, he saw pills.

Prescription pills.

Several bottles of them.

At the end of the day after another confrontation with his family, Brian was totally whipped. And he still had practice for two hours. He hadn’t slept much last night because he waited until he heard Jamie come home. One of their parents went into his room and then the low murmur of voices drifted through the walls. Whoever it was didn’t stay long.

Brian lay awake long into the night, trying to figure out how to accept his brother and how to avoid the explosions at their house. This hadn’t ever happened before. Sure, his family had the normal conflicts about where he and Jamie were allowed to go, about pitching in with chores, but nothing so big. Now his parents were edgy and moody, which worried the hell out of him because he never saw that, either.

So this morning, he’d taken a risk and knocked on Jamie’s door. When there was no answer, he’d gone inside anyway. Jamie had left early for school for a blood drive meeting, his mom told him later, but while he was in the empty room, Brian caught sight of a loose leaf sheet of paper on Jamie’s desk—another one of his poems. Brian knew he wrote this for class, and also to vent his feelings. For that reason, Brian had stuck it in his pocket, but hadn’t read it yet.

With no energy at all, he entered the locker room. The guys were trading jibes while they dressed for practice. Heather had been right about some things. After the initial flurry over Jamie and Luke being gay, the kids at school pretty much went off with some other bit of gossip. There were a few groups who still made nasty comments, but Brian hadn’t seen any overt bullying. The team was doing okay, too, he thought as he changed into his uniform and sat on the bench to put on his cleats. They were having a winning season, and when Coach Denton visited again, Brian had scored two home runs and done some awesome fielding. Denton had been encouraging about him getting a place on the Ithaca team and some alumni scholarship money. Now, if he could just make peace with Jamie.

As he was putting his clothes in his gym bag, he felt the paper in his pants pocket. What the hell? He couldn’t feel any worse. He pulled it out and read it.

The Dragon

The Dragon comes alive again,

Ambushing me when I think

All will be well.

In stealth it stalks and slithers

Searching for my suffering soul.

Then it morphs! Becomes a priest,

A dad, a brother.

Why do I not just give in?

Maybe I will.

Brian had to battle back the moisture in his eyes. He wasn’t as good as Jamie in English, but he got the metaphor. And the message. He was responsible for much of the pain that his brother poured out onto this page. He couldn’t stand it, so he bolted up from the bench and strode to end of the row. Just then, Luke entered the room late. His locker was way at the end of the aisle and he had to pass all the guys to get to it. He nodded to Brian, and suddenly, Brian wondered if Jamie had told him about the latest trouble at home.

When Luke disappeared down his own row, Brian heard Eric Cummings say, “Wonder if gay boy was getting a blow job in his car. God, that stuff makes me sick.”

The guys around Brian went still. Everybody knew he was a couple rows over, so he’d hear Cummings’s comment.
Fuck this
, Brian thought. He wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines any longer. He could slay this dragon for Jamie, at least. He stalked down the aisle, his cleats echoing loudly in the open space. Grabbing Cummings from behind, he slammed him against his locker, banging his head hard against it. Brian fisted his hands in the front of Cummings’s uniform and said in a deadly quiet voice, “Shut your mouth about Luke and my brother or I’ll knock your goddamned teeth down it.”

Cummings’s face reddened, and he seemed scared, too, so Brian moved in even closer. “You hear me, jerkoff?”

The guy glanced to either side of him, probably for help from his posse, but none of the other teammates intervened.

So Cummings battered his arm. “Let me go, Davidson.”

Brian stepped back and dropped his hands. “Just remember what I said.”

One by one, all the guys left, not supporting Brian, but not defending Cummings, either. That was progress, Brian guessed.

And he felt better. He’d let Jamie down yesterday, but not now.

Practice went as usual, though nobody talked much, just played extra hard. The workout energized him and at six, when they finished, Brian jogged ahead to the locker room, just changed his shoes, got his bag, and went out into the school hallway still in his uniform. He didn’t feel like sticking around for more fighting.

A flash of pink and white off to the side caught his attention. Heather. She’d moved her stuff out of his locker and her new one was down two halls. Seeing her drained some of the good feelings he’d gotten from standing up to Cummings. But he said, anyway, “Hey, Heather.”

Her head whipped around, sending dark locks everywhere. “Hi, Bri.”

“How come you’re here this late? Cheerleading’s over, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I had chorus practice for the spring concert.” She studied him with sad eyes. “You okay?”

“Like, are you kidding?”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s my line,” he joked. She didn’t laugh. Behind her on the wall was a poster announcing the sale of Junior Prom tickets. It made him ask, “I don’t suppose I should be buying some of those? Since I was supposed to take you?”

She glanced over her shoulder, then back to him. The expression on her face was his answer. He couldn’t stand it so he closed the distance between them and put his hand on her arm. “Please don’t do this. Give me another chance.”

“I can’t.” Her voice was shaky. “You know my dad cheated on my mother. I couldn’t forgive him and I can’t forgive you. You and I are over as a couple, Brian.”

“You still going to the prom?” His throat clogged at the thought of another guy dancing with her, holding her.

“I don’t know.” She stepped back. “I have to go. My mother’s waiting for me.” She started away then stopped. “Brian?”

He prayed for a miracle. “Yeah?”

“It’s too late with me, but not with Jamie. You don’t have to lose your brother, too.”

Leaning against the wall, he watched her walk away, feeling rotten again. Before he could make himself move, somebody else came up to him, and when he turned, he saw it was Luke.

Without greeting him, Luke said, “What happened with Cummings before practice? Edwards said you got into it.”

“I’m sick of his bullshit. He’s such a prick.”

Luke smiled. “We agree on that. You gonna tell Jamie you confronted the asshole?”

“I don’t know. I’m not his favorite person right now.”

“It could take the edge off what went down at your house last night.”

Of course Jamie would have confided in Luke. No longer did he turn to Brian with his problems. And that knowledge made his chest hurt as much as it had when Heather refused to get back with him. “I keep blowing it with Jamie, Luke. Sometimes I say the wrong thing and don’t even know it.”

“Give him some space, Bri. He’s getting it from all sides, too.” Then Luke walked away.

Miserable, Brian laid his head against the cold steel locker, wishing he could crawl inside. He’d never felt so alone in his whole life.

*

After Thursday night, the tension in Maggie’s house was so bad that none of them were talking much. They’d been polite to each other, but communication was zilch. She was worried about Mike, of course, but he was an adult and had developed coping skills. She was more concerned about Jamie and Brian. They’d never had to deal with a schism among the four of them and suddenly, Maggie wondered if she and Mike had protected their sons from the realities of real life. Thinking of her mother, she knew why she’d always wanted a calm, conflict-free home, but she still worried about the boys. So she’d called Melissa late Friday afternoon and now, Saturday morning, was waiting for them to get up.

Jamie stirred first. He came downstairs and out to the porch. All the doors were open and spring warmth filtered in through the screens.

“Morning.” Jamie’s face was relaxed. When he was a baby, waking up was the best time for him and he’d coo and babble until they got him out of the crib. Contrary to Brian, who screamed his lungs out.

“Hi, honey. Come sit with me.”

“Let me get some juice first.”

He returned in a moment and they watched the birds in the feeder, oohing and ahhing over red-breasted robins and blue jays and particularly a hummingbird that buzzed in the flower boxes.

When Jamie seemed fully awake, Maggie pulled a paper out of her bathrobe. “I have something for you.”

His features went taut. “Mom, please, I’m not up for a serious talk. I told you Thursday night I didn’t want to discuss Dad or Brian.”

“You don’t have to talk to me. But
I
have to do this. Then we can go back to the birds and enjoy the day.” She slid the paper over to him.

He picked it up. “What’s this?”

“I can’t sit by while you and Brian are at each other’s throats and getting more and more depressed. I thought about individual counseling, but Melissa suggested the Gay Alliance. They have support groups for gay youths and a counselor on hand to talk individually to kids.”

“You can’t fix the problems we’re having, Mom. Neither can a counselor.”