Hopes and Fears Read online

  Suddenly I knew exactly how my parents had felt fifteen years ago. I was standing there, looking at someone I thought I knew, I thought I loved, and it was like he was someone other. Someone I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to think, but every cell in my body was screaming for me to turn and walk out the door, walk away from him, run away from him, screaming “stranger danger!” like a frightened kindergartner.

  “Don’t run,” Jerry whispered, and I looked at him and saw the terror in his chocolate-brown eyes. “I’m sorry—I should have told you, but I was scared. Please don’t leave, please don’t leave….”

  “You knew right away,” I said numbly. “That was why you reacted so strongly when you figured out who I was. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t think it mattered at first,” Jerry said, and some tension I hadn’t recognized ’til it was gone slid from his bones. “And then it kind of got awkward. It doesn’t matter, not really. Davey and I had split up long before the book came out; it’s been years. I wasn’t a part of all that—I was barely a part of Davey’s life even before that.”

  “You lived together.” Keep talking. I had to keep talking; if I stopped talking, I’d start running, and I really didn’t want to run anymore. I needed to leave, but if I did, I knew it would all be over. I needed to stay this time. I was sweating, but I was staying put. So far.

  “Less than a year.”

  “You broke up. I can’t imagine you guys fighting. Neither of you are the type to get all angsty. So why did you break up?”

  He shifted closer to me, carefully, as if I were a squirrel and he wanted to feed me a peanut. “Davey was… kind of emotionally unavailable. I’m kind of emotional. We were good for a while, and I think he really loved me, but he couldn’t ever let go long enough to really be what I needed, you know?” He gave me a rueful grin. “I tend to be attracted to the cool, collected types. Like you.”

  I snorted, and the grin softened, became more real. “Yeah, real cool and collected.”

  Carefully, he reached out and put a hand on my arm. “You are, usually. Are you angry?”

  “I don’t know what I am yet,” I admitted. “Besides scared shitless.”

  “You? You didn’t see the look on your face,” he shot back. “You had me terrified.”

  “I know. I saw.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how I feel about this,” I said, “but after this afternoon, I think I’m more scared of running than I am of this situation.”

  “There really isn’t one. A situation, I mean,” he said. “Davey’s not a part of my life anymore. Yeah, once I was in love with him. But that was years ago.”

  His face was open and honest. Far more honest than myself. I thought about Zach and how much I thought I’d loved him. Who was I to criticize Jerry for falling for someone the guy I loved, loved?

  What the hell. I started laughing, and once I started, I couldn’t stop. “Holy fucking shit,” I managed in between guffaws. “This isn’t even six degrees of separation. More like two. Holy fucking shit.”

  “It’s a small world,” Jerry said.

  “Oh, don’t say that. I’m gonna have that fucking song stuck in my head, and if there’s anything I hate worse than Christmas, it’s fucking ‘It’s A Small World’.”

  Jerry, the dick, started humming the fucking song.

  I EVENTUALLY had to confess that I had been in love with Zach, and Jerry, thankfully, was less hysterical than I had been. Of course, he had already known I knew Zach because of the book, but I’d been able to keep my feelings from showing up in that. He also agreed that half of the reason I’d been so willing to fall for Zach was because of his unavailability. I pointed out that we both had issues with unavailability, and he threatened me with a half-empty bottle of Glen Something (we’d finally made it to the Duke of Perth and were eating fish and chips and drinking entirely too much whiskey).

  Then he told me about the two guys he’d been involved with after David, and how the second one had turned out to be not the cool and collected guy he thought he was, but a loony stalker type, so that Jerry had had to transfer to the RehabiliCare site in Chicago to get away from him. Fortunately, the stalker guy had given up on Jerry and was stalking someone else, according to Jerry’s family, so Jerry could go home from time to time, but he felt safer in Chicago. Also running away, but for a better reason than mine.

  Then we went back to his apartment and made love in his bed for a change.

  The next afternoon, after recovering from the god-awful hangover way too much single malt had bequeathed us (ah, but those bottles died heroically), we fired up his laptop, and I went searching through my Yahoo inbox for my brother Sean’s Skype address. I keyed it in and sat waiting nervously to see if he would answer.

  He did, and his eyes widened when he saw my face. “Hey!” he said in delight. “You called! I didn’t think you would. How you doin’?”

  “Good,” I said, and wiped my palms on my thighs. “Happy holidays, and all that shit.”

  “You’re a week early. You usually call on the day. What’s the occasion?”

  “Well, I….” I glanced over the top of the screen at Jerry, who was leaning against the counter with a smile on his face. He nodded in encouragement. “I kind of wanted to talk to the folks, and since I haven’t seen them since Ashley’s wedding, and you’ve got the webcam now, I thought it might be okay to, like, do it this way. I’m still planning on calling on Christmas, but, you know, I thought now might kinda be less chaotic to, like, talk to them.”

  Sean was grinning. “Baby bro, you’re nervous! Haven’t seen you like that before.” The grin faded and he said urgently, “It’s not cuz there’s anything wrong or anything, is it? You’re okay?”

  “I’m good, really. I’m good. It’s just… you know.”

  “Yeah, bro.” Sean’s smile was back, but now it was understanding. “I know. It’s okay. Does this mean you’re coming back into the family fold?”

  “I’d like to. It’ll depend on Ma and Da.”

  He nodded, then said, “It would serve you right if they told you to take a hike, you know, but I kinda hope they don’t. It’s hell being the only guy in the family.”

  “Up yours,” I said.

  Sean grinned again and said, “Hang on,” then vanished from the screen.

  Shit. Here it came.

  I could hear my mother’s voice saying, “Oh, Sean, you know I don’t like that thing. Who is it?”

  “It’s a surprise.” Sean reappeared in the screen, leading my mother with his free hand over her eyes. He sat her down and then removed his hand.

  Her eyes went wide. “Briney?”

  I heard Jerry snigger. He mouthed Briney? and I gave him a look that promised retribution. “Yeah, Ma. You doin’ okay?”

  Shit. Her eyes were filling with tears, and she just nodded. I felt my own start to tear up and rubbed them on my sweater sleeve. “None of that,” I said.

  She smiled widely and wiped her face. She looked the same. It was weird; I was expecting her to look older, but she really didn’t. “I’m sorry. It’s just so good to see you. It’s been four years. How are you? How do you like Chicago? Aunt Esther got your Hanukkah card. She said it was lovely. Oh, Aunt Paulette did too. Isn’t it cold there?”

  “Oh, yeah. Chicago’s pretty nice. Cold, but okay. I like it here.” And, I realized, I did. If I had to be stuck in one place awhile, there were worse ones. “School’s out for the holidays, so I’m kind of free.” I took a breath. “I called for a couple of reasons, Ma. First of all, I want to apologize for being such a dick for so long.”

  “Brian, don’t use such language,” she said automatically; then my words sunk in. “Oh, Briney, baby, I’m the one who’s sorry. We didn’t know what to do, and we were so worried, and you changed so much we didn’t know how to reach you….”

  And more of that same stuff. Jerry had been right about a lot of things. None of your business, really, though, what was said; it’s pretty much
between me and my Ma, and later, Da. He got on, and yelled at me, and cried, and it was almost as good as being there; plus there was no whacking going on, which would certainly have been the case if we were in physical proximity. Finally, we settled down a bit and Ma got back on Sean’s webcam.

  “There’s something else I need to tell you,” I said, and watched her face go white. Off camera, I heard Sean say, “Relax, Ma, I already asked him, and he doesn’t have AIDS or any of that shit.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Ma said, and turned back to me. “So what is it, Brian?”

  “I’ve met someone.”

  Across the kitchen, Jerry’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head wildly. I grinned at him as I delivered the silently promised retribution and crooked my finger at him. He shook his head again.

  “Someone?” She blinked.

  I held out my hand, and Jerry sighed and came around the kitchen table. I pulled him down into my lap. “Ma, meet Jerry Abruzzi. Jerry, Cathleen McCarthy.”

  She stared at him, sitting on my lap and looking embarrassed, and then she smiled. Not the polite company smile that I’d seen on our infrequent visits over the last fifteen years, but the full, happy smile she’d been giving me for the last forty minutes. “Hello, Jerry,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you. Have you known Brian long?”

  “A few weeks,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you too. I hope I can meet you in person soon.”

  “Me too. Maybe after Christmas?” She looked at me hopefully. “Aunt Esther’s eightieth birthday is at the end of January—we were thinking of having a party for her. It would be nice if both of you could fly out for it. You’re welcome to stay with us, Jerry—we’ve plenty of room.”

  “Hey, what about me?” I joked.

  Joked. With my mother. What a concept.

  Da stuck his head in the frame and said, “You get to sleep in the garage.” He was laughing when he said it. Ma hit him and said, “Don’t be silly. It’s too cold in the garage.”

  “I’d love to stay with you,” Jerry said warmly, “if it’s not an imposition. But if you haven’t enough room, my family’s just over in Brooklyn.”

  “Oh, lovely!” Ma said. “We’ll have to have your parents over for dinner sometime.”

  I rested my forehead against his shoulder as they chatted; then he kissed me and went away, giving me a hard pinch on my thigh in revenge for embarrassing him. I grinned and turned back to my mother.

  She was gazing at me, a poignant look on her face. “What?” I said.

  “You’re happy, aren’t you? It’s so nice to see you happy again. I’ve been so worried for so long.”

  “I’ve been fine,” I said in confusion. “You know that. I e-mail Sean and Ash and Joyce and Kelly all the time, and if you’d get a computer, I’d e-mail you too. And I call on the major holidays. Except for hurting my knee, which is how I met Jerry anyway, I’ve been fine.”

  “I know that,” she said, “but that wasn’t why I was worried. It’s just that I know that being gay is hard. It’s being different and people aren’t kind to those who are different. When you told us you were gay, I was so terrified for you I had to leave the table. I just went into the bathroom and cried because all I could think of was all the awful things I’d heard happening to boys—beatings and shootings and AIDS and all that—and I realized that I wouldn’t be able to protect you anymore. It’s scary being a parent, Bri, and having to let go of your kids and trust that they’ll be okay, and then I find out that not only do I have to worry about the usual things, but the unusual things too. I knew you were strong and competent, but what you were going to be up against….

  “And then you shut down on us, and I didn’t understand what I did wrong, and that was even harder. I love you so much, baby, and I wanted to help and couldn’t, and you wouldn’t let me back in.” She was crying again, and I was too.

  “It was my fault,” I said. “Jerry says I run too much, and I just ran away, even before I left. I just ran away inside my head.”

  Jerry had come back into the kitchen and was leaning on the counter, eating a banana. He mimed doing obscene things to it, and I had to laugh, despite my tears. “But you know, Ma? I think I’m done running.”

  I STILL hate Christmas. But this one wasn’t so bad, particularly since Jerry canceled his plans to go home over the holidays to stay with me (“I’ll be seeing them when we go back for your great-aunt’s birthday party anyway”) and instead dragged me to midnight Mass at St. Pat’s, where we sat in the cavernous, candlelit, and incense-smoky church. We had just settled in the wooden pew when dozens of voices in four-part harmony sang out “O, Little Town of Bethle-hem,” and the sound echoed and swirled around us and caught me up in the oldest of my memories, of firelight and cold and stars and snow and the sharp aroma of pine, and somehow I heard my family’s voices in the chorus, the way we had always sung the old carols, the real ones, together. The memory of their voices merged with Jerry’s as he sang enthusiastically beside me with the rest of the congregation, untrained singers blending with the choir, and for the first time in a very long time, I joined in. But when I sang the line, “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight”? I wasn’t singing about Bethlehem.

  And then, on Christmas morning, Jerry hauled this huge box out of his closet. “I couldn’t quite put it under the tree,” he said.

  “It’s bigger than the whole damn tree,” I said. “I thought we’d decided not to get each other gifts this year.” We had; the idea was to save up and go on a cruise or something totally bourgeois and campy like that.

  “Oh, it’s not from me,” he replied, grinning.

  I eyed him suspiciously, then opened the little card attached to it. The printing was tiny and precise—Zach’s printing.

  Brian:

  Time to stop running. The weight of this should slow you down. Merry Christmas.

  Love, Zach and David.

  “I told them what to get,” Jerry said, laughing. “Come on, open it. I can’t wait to see your face.”

  I tore open the wrappings and then cut the box open with the knife Jerry handed me. There was stuffing inside the box that I pulled out and tossed at him, then looked inside the box. Something large, dark and… furry?

  I looked over at him. He was holding his sides and laughing hysterically. I looked back in the box, then reached in with both hands and pulled out the four-foot-tall gorilla from FAO Schwartz. Its sad, dark eyes looked at me. I looked at it. Then I looked at my lover, who was incoherent and wheezing.

  “I’m calling him Jerry, you know.” I slung an arm around it and squeezed. It kind of felt good.

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  About the Author

  An unrepentant biblioholic, ROWAN SPEEDWELL spends half her time pretending to be a law librarian, half her time pretending to be a database manager, half her time pretending to be a fifteenth-century Aragonese noblewoman, half her time… wait a minute… hmm. Well, one thing she doesn't pretend to be is good at math. She is good at pretending, though.

  In her copious spare time (hah) she does needlework, calligraphy and illumination, and makes jewelry. She has a master's degree in history from the University of Chicago, is a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism, and lives in a Chicago suburb with the obligatory Writer's Cat and way too many books.

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  Copyright

  Hopes and Fears ©Copyright Rowan Speedwell, 2010

  Published by

  Dreamspinner Press

  4760 Preston Road

  Suite 244-149

  Frisco, TX 75034

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resembla
nce to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Catt Ford

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  Released in the United States of America

  December 2010

  eBook Edition

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-762-7