CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Now that you found yourself losing your mind

Are you here again?

Finding that what you once thought was real

Is gone, and changing?

Now that you made yourself love me

Do you think I can change it in a day?

How can I place you above me?

Am I lying to you when I say

That I believe in you.

  I Believe in You – Neil Young

BRIAN

I stroll into the great main room and head for the sideboard where the drink supply lives.  I take out a tumbler and add a generous amount of Beam, and then settle myself casually on the sofa.  Linds is standing with her back to the fire, trying to look nonchalant; but I know her too well.  The tension in her neck and shoulders is unmistakable.  But, being Linds, she goes on the offensive.

“How dare you give Gus permission to go off like that, with that … that man … when I expressly said I didn’t want him to?”

I lift an eyebrow.  “As I told you, Gus is with Justin.  Boot is more than capable of keeping an eye on both of them.  And I have some things to say to you, which I felt you would probably rather not have Gus hear.”

She blinks rapidly; then recovers herself.  “I don’t appreciate having my authority with Gus undermined like this, Brian.”

“And how should that concern me?”

She bridles at my tone.  “Because I’m the one who’s bringing him up, and I don’t think you have the right to turn up and start throwing your weight around …”

“My rights?  My rights?”  I struggle to keep my voice under control.  “Since when have they ever been of any interest to you?  There’s only one person whose rights count with you, Linds, and that’s yourself.   I’m just sorry it’s taken me so long to see it.”

She opens her eyes wide.  “You know that’s not true, Brian!  I’ve always supported your rights as Gus’ father … it was Mel who never wanted you to be involved!”

“Ah, yes,” I say, laughing.  “The Mellie-monster strikes again!  Such a poor little brow-beaten housewife you are, Linds … my heart breaks for you.”

“How can you talk to me like that?  When you know better than anyone what I’ve been through …”  She’s changed tack now, glancing down at me reproachfully, her huge brown eyes beginning to swim with tears.

I shake my head.  “Won’t work this time, Linds.  As someone once told me, I’m on to you.  It’s taken me a while, but I finally get it.”  I fix her eyes with my own.  “You shouldn’t have involved Gus.  I’d have forgiven you anything, but not that.”

“Bri …” she steps towards me.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about …”

She’s interrupted by the doorbell, and I hold up a finger.  “Then let’s see if we can clarify things for you, shall we?”  I place my glass on the coffee table and walk down the hall to the front door.

“Hey Mel,” I say as I open it.  “Come on in.”

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

I don’t think I’ve ever seen an expression that says busted more than the one on Lindsay’s face when I walk in with Mel behind me.   Shock, horror, guilt, anger … they all chase across her features before she makes a commendable attempt to rally.

“Mel … I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Mel replies.  “Linds … how the fuck could you do it?”

“Do what?”  Lindsay demands, folding her arms.  “Remove my son and myself from a dangerous situation?  I’ve heard you give the same advice to women with abusive partners, many times.”

“I have never been abusive to you or Gus, you know that, you lying bitch!” Mel shouts, striding towards her; but I grab her arm and hold her back.

“Whoa, Mel.”

“That’s right!” Lindsay cries.  “Don’t let her hit me, Brian!”

“No-one’s going to do that, Linds,” I tell her, although in all truthfulness I couldn’t blame Mel if she did.  But I drag her to the sofa and make her sit beside me, where I can keep a grip on her arm.  Lindsay remains standing by the fire.  “We’re going to act like sensible adults and we’re going to get this whole mess out in the open.  And then we’re going to work out what we’re going to do.”

“We are certainly not doing anything of the kind!” she snaps.  “I have nothing to say to you, Melanie, that I haven’t already said.  It’s over.  End of story.  And I have to make a new life for me and Gus.”

“Except you’re not, are you?” I tell her.  “You’re trying to make a new life for you, and Gus, and me, Linds.  And that’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, drawing herself up haughtily.  

“No?  Then allow me to refresh your memory.  You let me believe that Justin was eager to go to New York, that he was only going through with the wedding because I’d finally given him what he’d been asking for and he didn’t want to hurt me.  You never told me that he’d already discussed it with you, and that he had no intention of leaving because it wasn’t what he wanted.”

“Oh Brian!” she laughs.  “Of course he wanted to go!  Who wouldn’t?  It was the opportunity of a lifetime!  And if he’d had the courage to stick it out, the way I said, then eventually …”

“You’re not listening, are you?”  I interrupt.  “Justin had no home base there, no support.  He couldn’t get a decent job because he didn’t have the suitable qualifications, so he ended up in a vicious circle … no job equals no money equals no studio where he could work.  He knew that, before he even left.  And if I’d had half the brains I thought I had, I would have known it too; instead of letting myself get carried away by your pretty pictures of fame and fortune.”

 “It wasn’t a fantasy!” Lindsay snaps.  “You’re not an artist, you have no idea how talented he is!”

“No, I’m not; and yes, I do.  And if he has as much talent as you believe, then it’s not going anywhere … it’s not going to dry up and disappear in the next few years just because he hasn’t been ‘discovered’ yet.  But even if it did, ultimately it would be Justin’s decision as to where he goes and what he does – not mine, and certainly not yours.”

Lindsay tucks her hair behind her ears.  “Well, it’s possible I may have mistaken his words, I suppose.  If I did, then I'm sorry; but I did it with the best of intentions.”

“I’d almost be willing to believe that,” I tell her, “if it hadn’t been for your reaction when you walked into the Loft and saw him.  You had no concern for him whatsoever; not for his injuries, not for Jennifer’s death.  All that worried you was that he was back in Pittsburgh, and more importantly, back with me.  And you did everything you could to persuade me to send him back to New York.”

“Honestly, Brian, I can’t believe you’re misconstruing what I said so badly!  I explained to you, I was just worried about him losing all the ground he’d made.”

I can’t help but admire the rational way she’s justifying her actions, and if I didn’t know her so well I could almost believe her.   But my eyes are open to her now, and she can’t fool me anymore.

“Okay, forget Justin for a moment.  Let’s move on to the way you allowed me to believe that Mel had been physically abusing you and Gus.”

“Brian, I never said one word that was a lie!  She hit both of us, and she can’t deny it.”

“Which is rather a harsh interpretation, given the circumstances.”

“But still, a fact.”

“So you’ve been honest with me about everything?”

“Yes.”

“But you lied, Linds.  You told a big, fat porky about how you never cheated on Mel.”

Just for a second, her eyes flicker, then she lifts her chin.  “I didn’t lie.  His wife was an hysterical, jealous bitch!  She suspected every woman he spoke to!  Tom and I were just friends and colleagues.”

“She read your fucking texts to him!” Mel yells, trying to get up.  I grapple her back down.

“You don’t even know if there were any texts,” Lindsay says dismissively.  “She never showed them to you, did she?  She probably made it all up ... Tom said she was always snooping through his things, looking for evidence that he was seeing someone.”

And the horrible thing is that, put simply from Lindsay’s point of view, her story makes sense.  She gave what she thought was the best advice to Justin and to me.  She may have been wrong, but her intentions were good.  And then she gets dragged to Canada, where she has no friends and little money, where she spends her days looking after the kids while her partner’s too busy and bad-tempered to notice her.  Their relationship starts suffering.  So she gets off her ass and gets herself a job, and starts making a contribution and meeting new friends.  One of them is the head of her department, and they get on well and maybe flirt a little.  Mel sees them, and jumps to the wrong conclusion, and accuses her of having an affair.  She’s hurt and angry that Mel has such little trust in her, so they argue.  She thinks she’s persuaded Mel that she’s innocent, and everything settles down.  But his wife is insecure and possessive, too; maybe she finds something that inflames her jealousy or maybe she doesn’t, but anyway she hustles over to Lindsay’s house and rows with Mel.  Only instead of supporting Linds, and telling this woman to take a hike, Mel believes her, and when Lindsay comes home, Mel hits her.  It’s happened before. 

The next day Mel hits Gus.

Lindsay doesn’t believe in physical punishment, whatever the reason, whatever the circumstances.  She’s been prepared to accept the odd slap for herself, but not where her son’s concerned.  With him she doesn’t compromise.

So she finds the courage to walk away, and starts to try to build a new life for both of them.

I guess most people would find her behaviour exemplary.

Except I know it’s all fucking bullshit.

I smile at her. 

“She didn’t make it up though, did she, Linds?”

Once again she can’t hide the flash of anger in her eyes.  “I don’t know what’s going on here, Brian!  You’ve never been able to stand the sight of Mel, and suddenly you’re taking her side against me and implying everything is my fault, when I’m the injured party here!  I’d like to know what the hell she’s been saying about me, to turn you against me like this!”

“It’s not just about what Mel said,” I tell her.  “It’s about what Michael said, and Deb said, and Justin said, and even fucking Dan said.  Little things that built up into one very big thing.  So big that I couldn’t fucking see it.”  I stand up and take a step towards her.  “Not until the night you showed it to me.  That night at Britin when you tried to seduce me, so we could have another baby together.  So we could be a family.”

I hear Mel’s hiss of breath and her gasp of ‘You fucking did what?”, but my attention is on Lindsay’s face.  Her mouth falls open, her eyes widen; she hadn’t realised that I would betray her like that; she simply hadn’t taken it into account.  She actually looks hurt, and I realise how much she’d assumed about my love for her.

I raise my eyebrows at her.  “Going to deny it?”

She presses her lips together.  Then her head comes up.  “No, she says firmly.  “I don’t deny it.  Why should I?  I want stability for Gus.  Together we could offer it; after all, you love him as much as I do; even though you never expected to.  Think of how happy he would be, living with both his real parents … just like any normal little boy.”

I’m aware of Mel weeping softly beside me, and know how much that statement must have gutted her.  “We’ve had this conversation before, for fuck’s sake!  And since it seems that you didn’t get it last time, I’ll repeat myself: I am gay!”

She gives me a little condescending smile.  “Are you really sure about that, Brian?  After all, surely you must have noticed how much Justin resembles me.”

I stare at her, utterly dumb-founded.  “What?”

“Oh come on.  Not just the colouring … he has the same upbringing, the same perception, the same background.  Dare I say the same feistiness?  The same intelligence?  Not to mention the fact that he’s an artist, too … don’t you think that’s taking coincidence a little too far?”

I stare at the smug look on her face and there’s nothing I want more than to wipe it off.  “You are totally and utterly mistaken,” I tell her, my voice shaking with fury.  “Justin is only and has always been his own person.  He is not some fucked-up male substitute for you!  And despite what you think, he is nothing like you!  He would never have put Gus through what you have just to try and live out his own delusions!”

“I am not putting Gus through anything!  I’m trying to do what’s best for him!”

“You are not!” I roar at her.  “You are doing what is best for you!  Lindsay, you were the one who hurt Gus!  You took him away from his friends, his home and his family, and that was hard enough for him.  But then, just when he began to settle you got bored and started playing around; and when you got caught you uprooted him again and brought him back here!  You know he loves Mel, and yet you took him away from her with the full intention of never letting him see her again.  Not only that, but you let him think that it was his fault!  Can’t you see how fucked up that is?”

“I never told him that!” she protests.

“Come on, Lindsay!  He’s not stupid!  He knows that the reason Mel spanked him was because he did something really wrong, and he thinks that’s why you two split up!  Of course he blames himself!”

“It was the reason we split up!” she insists.

“Bullshit!”  I can’t believe she won’t give up on this.  “The reason you left Mel was because you’d started to think you might not be a dyke after all, and you decided to try your luck with me.  Why not?  You’d already got rid of your main rival, and you figured there was a good chance I’d be lonely enough not to fight you too hard.  Or that I loved you enough.  Wrong on both counts, Linds!"

“I admit I want to live as a family with you … even to maybe have another child.  I still believe that would be best for Gus.  But that has nothing to do with …”

“Will you fucking stop?  This situation is not what’s best for Gus!”  I stride over to her until our faces are only inches apart.  “You stood here in front of me and implied that Mel - your fucking wife - wasn’t even his real mother, that his life with you two hadn’t been normal!  As though he hadn’t been happy!  But Gus was a perfectly happy, normal little boy.  He wasn’t missing anything.  It was you.   You were the one who was bored, who was disappointed, who wanted more!” 

She shakes her head in mute denial.

“What went wrong, Lindsay?  Wasn’t life enough fun for you anymore?  Did you start to think things hadn’t exactly panned out as you’d imagined when you were at college?  When you were going to be a famous artist and change the world?  When you thought it was so much fun to outrage your boring parents’ middle-class morals by turning into a dye-hard dyke rebel?  God knows, you loved a challenge and you went for every one you could think of: setting up home with Mel; buying a house together.  Having a baby, and getting me to be the father.  Getting married.  Sucks to everybody!”

She puts her hands on her hips.  “So now you’re accusing me of hypocrisy?”

I laugh at her.  “We’re all fucking hypocrites!  We all lie to other people!  It’s when we lie to ourselves that we get fucked-up!”   I take a deep breath.  “You equate yourself with Justin, but here’s another basic difference between you … Justin doesn’t have a pretentious bone in his body.  When his father threw him out, he did whatever he had to do to survive – if not willingly, then certainly without complaint.  Even so, he never once regretted walking away.  But despite all your posturing, you never stopped hankering after your wealthy, privileged, conformist heritage.  You walk around wearing your fucking Liberal skin, but scratch you and you bleed WASP.  

“You’re trying to blame all this on what happened in Canada, but the rot had set in long before that.  Justin said that he first became aware of a change in your attitude towards him when he came back from LA; when you and Mel had split up.  That was after Sam Auerbach; after you found out what being fucked by a real cock was about – sorry, Mel.  No offense.  It’s a pity you just didn’t fall in love with him; it would have made things so much simpler.  Instead, I guess the experience only left you more dissatisfied, more confused about who you really were.   As it was, you must have been so fucking jealous of Justin … after all, he possessed the two things you wanted most in life: true talent, and me.  The two things that you could never have.”

“If that’s the case, why did I agree to go to Canada with Mel?” she flashes back.  “If I was so obsessed with you, why would I consider leaving you?”

“Because of the bombing,” I tell her quietly.  “The bombing shook all of us.”  I turn and walk over to the window, gazing out across the lawn because I really don’t want to look at her right now.   “When Justin was bashed, a lot of people were sorry.  But it wasn’t a life-changing event for them … not in the way it was for Jennifer and me.  It altered both of us … it made her realise that there were many things worse than having a gay son.  And me … well, it taught me I was capable of loving a seventeen-year old boy.  But the bombing was different, because we were all personally affected.   I guess we all re-evaluated our lives and our relationships … Justin and I, Jennifer and Tucker, Michael and Ben.  You and Mel.  We all looked again at the people we loved, and saw they were fragile and finite.  For me, the change was permanent.  For you, it wasn’t.”  I turn to face her.  “And when you agreed to go with Mel, you didn’t know that I was about to buy Justin a house … that I was going to propose to him, and that he was going to say yes.”

She stares at me wide-eyed.  For once, she doesn’t seem to have an answer.

“So what’s the best I can say?  That you genuinely had the intention of making a go of it with Mel, that showing me Justin’s review was just your last little fit of pique - that if you couldn’t have me then neither could he?  That my being alone again would somehow make things easier for you?  Yeah.  I guess maybe I can give you that much.

“But when the new land of milk and honey didn’t deliver, and reality started kicking in, then the old doubts and uncertainties started coming back… so you found a distraction.  A married man!”  I gasp theatrically.  “I wonder who came on to whom?  Did he let you know he was interested and you just went along for the ride, as it were?  Or did the challenge of seducing him excite you?  Whichever.  It doesn’t matter.  When the shit hit the fan you didn’t stay to deal with the fallout.  You hustled your ass back home and threw yourself and Gus on my protection, knowing full fucking well that I wouldn’t turn you away; and that if you got your story in first, I’d believe you.”

She’s got tears running down her cheeks now, and fuck me, they might be genuine.  “Dress it up however you want: tell yourself you never wanted Justin out of the way, or that you weren’t jealous of his talent, or that you left Mel because she hit Gus … or even that I’ve been a closet hetero all these years, pretending that Justin is you with a dick.  Tell yourself we could be the perfect couple.  Tell yourself anything you fucking want.  I really don’t care.  Because it’s all bullshit.  You wanted me, and you went after me, and that’s all there was to it.”

I walk back to her and grip her forearms: her face is anguished, and despite my resolution and my anger, I can’t help but wish things hadn’t turned out this way.

“I want to believe you didn’t actively cause any of this … I want to believe that you simply took full advantage of every opportunity you were offered, and did it with consummate skill.  Because otherwise I have to believe that you’re nothing but a callous, selfish bitch who was perfectly prepared to use her son to get her own way.  Who thought nothing of letting our family and friends think that Mel was an abusive partner and parent.  Who deliberately drove a wedge between me – whom you claim to care so much about – and the only man I could ever admit to loving.  The only person I could actually want to share my life with.”

I give her a little shake and she flinches – for the first time, a small flicker of fear.

“I don’t give a flying fuck whether you’re a dyke, or bi, or straight,” I tell her.  “That would never be an issue; although I’d prefer you to be happy, whatever the case.  Ultimately, I’m not going to lie awake at night fretting about it.  But Gus is another matter, because I will not stand by and watch my son pay for your fuck-ups while you make up your mind!”

She’s staring at me, with huge, wet, frightened eyes.  I think she’s actually listening; she’d better be.

“You get your act together.  You find yourself a place to live, or you go back to your parents.  Get Gus into school, find yourself a job, and work out what you want.  Go to therapy, get a shrink, whatever the fuck makes you feel better about yourself … I’ll even pay for it.  Because if you don’t, Mel and I will cite you as emotionally unstable and sue for sole joint custody.”

Her mouth falls open.  “You can’t do that … no judge would find in your favour … look at your record … and you don’t even have your parental rights anymore!”

“I’ll rescind them if needed,” Mel tells her, coming to stand beside me.  “God knows I don’t want to put Gus through a custody battle, especially if it gets dirty, but I’ll do it if you leave me no choice.  Gus is my son as much as he’s yours: and I will not let you take him away from me without a fight.  ”

“So it’s really up to you,” I say.  “We can come to an amicable arrangement with as little disruption to the kids as possible, or I can contact my lawyer; who, as I’m sure you recall, is more than happy to dish the dirt … and God knows, there’s a lot of it.  It’s your call.”

“And what, ferry Gus backwards and forwards to Canada?  If you’re so worried about disrupting him, how is that going to help?”  She’s still trying to sound defiant, but her lips are quivering.

“Fuck you if you think I’m going back to Toronto and leave Gus in your clutches,” Mel snaps, “not now I know what game you’ve been playing!  I’ve already approached my old firm about renewing my partnership, and they informed me they’d be delighted to have me back.  All I need to do is sell the house in Canada and find a place to rent in Pittsburgh.  Oh no, Linds … you can rest assured I’ll be keeping a very close eye on Gus from now on.”

“We both will,” I add.  “So it’s make your mind up time.  Do we act like civilised people, or do we fight it out?  Because if you try to take us on, you’ll lose … I guarantee it.”

TBC