CHAPTER NINE

“So you’re going down there again this weekend?” Dan says, leaning over to take the joint from my hand and sucking on it.  There’s a definite tone in his voice, and I raise my eyebrows at him.

“I told you, Lindsey needs my support right now.  She wants me to watch Gus for her while she goes job and flat hunting again.”

“Fine.”  He hands the joint back and lies back against the pillows.  “So do you want me to come over on Monday?”

I shake my head.  “We’re going to check out some schools.  We want to get Gus placed as soon as possible.”

Dan throws his head back and laughs.  “Jesus, Brian, whoever thought you’d end up pussy-whipped!”

“Fuck you!”  I glare at him.  “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

“No, you don’t.  It just seems kind of strange for you to have gone back into the closet after all these years.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Well, you have to admit that’s what it feels like.  You have your straight life with your wife and son, and I’m the dirty little secret nobody talks about.  I bet you’re even approaching the schools as Mr and Mrs Kinney.”

“It’s none of your fucking business.”  I’m not about to admit to him that’s exactly what we’re doing, because Gus has already had too much disruption and Linds wants to get him accepted with as little fuss as possible.  It’s not as though we haven’t used the same tactic before.

“Whatever,” he shrugs.  “I can always find something else to occupy me.”

Okay, now I/m getting seriously pissed.  “What’s that, a threat?  Because I have to tell you, it’s really not working.”

“No, it’s a fact.”  He pushes himself up on his elbow and stares at me.  “Chill out, Brian.  I don’t own you, and you sure as fuck don’t own me.  So if you don’t have time for this anymore, just say so.  I’m not going to turn into a bunny-boiler over it.”

The stupid thing is, he’s only voicing what I’ve begun to think myself.  It’s not that I resent spending my weekends at the house – with Gus tucked up in his mini-four poster, Linds and I have drunk some wine and smoked some weed, watched old movies and laughed over old times, the same way I used to with Mikey.  It’s been fun.  But I’m finding myself getting uneasy somehow … Linds seems to have got a little too comfortable at Britin.  And much as I’ve enjoyed spending time with Gus, he’s beginning to expect me to be there.  I’m starting to feel like I commute in to work during the week and go home weekends … the way I probably would have if I’d lived there with Justin.   And that hadn’t been the idea; I’d offered Britin to Linds as a temporary refuge, not a home.  Never that.

If I’m honest, I’m beginning to feel a guilty sense of relief when Monday morning comes and I can climb into the ‘Vette and head back to the Pitts.  It’s like escaping.   Because while Linds is quite happy to share my weed when Gus is in bed, she doesn’t like me smoking in the house while he’s there, or in the rental if we’re driving somewhere.  And she keeps pulling me up about swearing.  Which is all fair enough, I guess – everybody knows you shouldn’t smoke around kids, and he picks up words so fucking quickly … but still, I can’t help resent it because that’s not what I signed up for.  Coming back to the Loft, fucking Dan; going to Babylon, fucking tricks … it’s becoming necessary in a way it hasn’t been for a long while; because that’s what I do, that’s who I am.  I’m never going to be a full time Dad, picking Gus up from school and helping him do his homework, while Linds cooks us both dinner in a frilly white pinnie.  I know Linds understood this from the beginning, accepted it, and still loves me in spite of it.  And I also know that as soon as she gets on her feet and starts making new friends and a new life for herself, everything will get back to normal.  But I’m going to have to talk to her and make her see that if I don’t start distancing myself a little more, Gus is the one who’s going to end up getting hurt.

“Okay, point taken,” I tell Dan.  “I guess I’m just getting a little freaked out by the situation … I didn’t think it would be so hard for Linds to find a job.”

His expression is unreadable.  “Maybe she’s being too picky,” he says at length.  “’Night, Brian.”  He leans over to kiss me, and as always I avert my lips.  He just smiles and rolls over, turning his back to me.

I lie on my back, staring up into the darkness.  Like every other night, I let my thoughts drift far away to the east; I picture a blond head peacefully sleeping, bathed in moonlight, and I try to keep that image in my mind as I fall asleep.  I try not to think that he probably isn’t alone.

**********************************************************

When I arrive at Britin Friday evening, I’m surprised to see the silver Merc parked in the driveway.  I’m even more surprised to see Lindsay and her parents coming out of the front door, all beaming smiles and hugs and kisses.  She looks a little startled to see me.

“Brian!  You’re home early!”  She hurries over, Gus balanced on one hip, and busses my cheek.

“Hello, Brian.”  Al Peterson comes towards me with a big shit-eating grin on his face, extending his hand and exuding steamy breath into the freezing air.  “Lindsay’s just been giving us the guided tour.  Impressive, very impressive.”

I nod, giving his hand a cursory shake as I do so.  His wife stands next to Linds simpering at me.  Fucking simpering!  The last time I saw her had been at that fucked up party Linds had thrown for them, and the expression on her face then had been as scandalised as the one my mother had been wearing when she’d walked in on Justin and me during our Viagra-fest.

“We both want to thank you for taking such good care of our daughter,” she gushes.  “And our darling grandson too, of course!”  She pinches Gus’ cheek, and I’m pleased to say the little tyke tries to push her hand away.  At least I’m not the only one to recognise bullshit when I hear it.

Linds fusses around as her parents climb into the Merc’s plush interior, telling them to drive carefully, to watch out for ice and to make sure they call to let her know they’ve got home in one piece.  Blah, blah, fucking blah.

“Don’t forget,” Renée Peterson calls, waving her hand at us like the fucking Queen or something.  “Lunch next Sunday!  We’ll be expecting you all!”

I turn to stare at Lindsay, but she has her eyes fixed on the retreating car, a happy smile on her face.

“Do you want to tell me what the fuck that’s all about?”

“Brian, language,” she chides, taking hold of Gus’ arm and waving it in the air as her parents turn out of the drive.  She starts to walk back to the house.  “Goodness, it’s cold!  Do you think it’ll snow?  Gus would love to make a snowman, wouldn’t you, Sweetie?”

She sets him down and he heads for the warmth of the fire, safely contained behind the huge mesh safety guard we’ve had installed.  He flops down on his tummy and starts playing with his discarded cars on the rug.

“Linds, what were your parents doing here?” I demand.

She walks through to the kitchen and turns on the oven.  “Sorry, Bri, you’ll have to wait for dinner … I didn’t expect you for another hour.  But it’s only vegetable lasagne, so it won’t take long to heat up.”

If she’s looking to distract me, it’ll take more than fucking vegetable lasagne.  I grab her arm.  “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to talk about this?”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about,” she smiles brightly.  “Mom and Dad wanted to see where Gus and I were living, of course.  They’ve been really concerned.”

“I thought the only daughter they were concerned about was Lynette.  And I’ve never heard them refer to Gus as their grandson before.  So what’s brought about this miraculous transformation?”

“Well, of course they’re happy and relieved that I’ve left Mel.  You know they never liked her.”

“About the only thing we have in common.  Linds, if you think I’m going to your parents for Sunday lunch like some breeder son-in-law, you’re out of your tiny mind.”

She pouts at me.  “I just thought it would be a nice idea for Gus to have a family dinner.  After all, now you and Michael aren’t speaking anymore, we don’t get invited to Deb’s … and Gus misses his Grandma…”

“No,” I snap.  I’m really pissed at her.  “You’re not laying that guilt trip on me, Linds.  I’ve bent over backwards for you and Gus, but I draw the line at playing happy families with your fucking parents.  You want to go with Gus and pretend like all the shit they gave you in the past never happened, fine.  But count me out.  In fact, I was going to give next weekend a miss anyway.  I need some ‘me’ time.  But hey, you can ask your Mom to baby-sit while you’re job-hunting … and maybe your old man will give you the deposit for an apartment while you’re at it!”

She goes quiet then, and gives me a little glance from under her lashes.  “I’m sorry, Brian.  I guess we’re beginning to outstay our welcome, right?”

Christ.  I hate it when she does that little girl lost act, especially when I know how resilient she really is.  But I’ve never been able to resist it … not from her, or Gus, or Mikey.  Or Justin.

I put my arm round her shoulders.  “Linds, I said you and Gus were welcome here for as long as you needed.  I’m not taking that back.  But I don’t want Gus getting used to me being around all the time, because he’ll think it’s always going to be that way.  You know better, because you know me; but to a little kid like him it’s going to start seeming like we’re a normal family.  And he’s not going to understand when he finds out we’re not.”

“Not normal?”  she repeats with one of those brittle smiles of hers.  “Oh, I think he’s very used to being different.  To not being normal.  After all, he’s never known anything else, has he?”

I want to point out that she should have thought of all this before she decided it would be such a cool idea to get pregnant and bring her son up in a lesbian household.  Before she set her heart on me being the father.  But hey, she’s a woman.  What do I know about how her mind works?

“Anyway,” she goes on, tucking her hair back behind her ear, “I’m sorry about inviting my parents over.  I know I was overstepping myself, letting people come into your home.  I just … I just wanted them to know I haven’t fucked up too badly.  I know they’ll never be proud of me the way they are of Lynette; and I know that’s their problem, not mine.  But I just wanted to show them that, even though I’ve made a lot of mistakes, at least I did one thing right.  I chose you for Gus’ father.  And you’re not some loser like the shmucks my sister marries.  You’re a successful man, with his own business, who owns this wonderful house.  I wanted them to see the kind of inheritance Gus will have one day.  I know that’s pathetic, but what can I say; I’ve always wanted their approval, and I suppose on some level I always will.”

And I do understand.  Why else had I gone on subsidising my own father all those years, damn his drunken, bullying hide?  Why else do I still feel that stubborn spark of resentment against my mother’s bigotry?  And I have no illusions about their total and abysmal failure as parents; I have no cosseted childhood to pine for.  On the other hand Linds, for all her intelligence, has never quite broken away from her privileged WASP upbringing.  She craves it still.  Now she’s suffered such a blow to her pride and emotions, I guess it’s only natural she should try to give her confidence and ego a little boost.

“It’s okay, Linds,” I tell her.  I have no problem with you inviting people back if you want.  You have to start making new friends.  I just don’t want your parents making free with the place, is all.”

“I’ll remember,” she says, smiling now.  “And Bri, just let me say that you’ve been absolutely wonderful about all this.  I can never thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to, Wendy.”  I kiss her forehead.  “You’re more than welcome.”

TBC