"Queer Identities" -- Chapter 112 "We Are Family"
Always family.
Debbie thinks about the past, the present, and the future.
This is Chapter 112 in the "Queer Identities" series.
The narrator is Debbie Novotny, and features Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor, Tim Reilly, Joan Kinney, Carl Horvath, Michael Novotny, Hunter Montgomery, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Always Family. Pittsburgh, April 2004.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. This is for fun, not profit. Enjoy.
Earlier "QI" chapters online and on the LJ are here:
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaelmcgear/Gaedhalficpage.html
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaedhal/
Most recent "QI" chapters on the LJ are here:
Ch. 109 "Chupacabra"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/449083.html
Ch. 110 "It's Raining Men"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/449985.html
Ch. 111 "High School Confidential"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/451537.html
By Gaedhal
"We are family,
I got all my sisters with me.
We are family,
Get up everybody and sing!
Everyone can see we're together,
As we walk on by.
(FLY!) and we fly just like birds of a feather,
I won't tell no lie.
(ALL!) all of the people around us they say,
'Can they be that close'?
Just let me state for the record,
We're giving love in a family dose..."
***
Most people wouldn't think I'm a religious person.
Yeah, I have a big, dirty mouth -- which Carl says he loves. And I'm opinionated on stuff like gays and birth control and abortion and how the Pope should keep his big trap shut on those issues. Pot, kettle, black? Maybe, but what the fuck?
But I am religious. I was raised to be a good little Catholic girl and you can't get away from that so easily. Shit knows, I've tried. But it doesn't work. And it's especially been bad since Vic died. I find myself heading over to St. Jude's in the morning before my shift at the diner and sometimes heading over after my shift's over. I don't spend a lot of time there. Just enough to light a small candle and say a short prayer. It's mainly the thought that counts. Yeah, I know I could pray just as well at home, but being in that cold old church, surrounded by the stained glass, the flickering candles, the musty, spicy smell of the place -- it just feels right. It feels like I'm a little girl again, waiting to say my Confession. Or kneeling next to my grandmother at early Mass, listening to her say her rosary in Italian.
Maybe I'm just getting older -- I'm the same age my grandmother was when I was a little girl. But no grandchildren for me. That hurts sometimes. I try not to think about it. You get what you get in this life and you have to make do.
You just have to.
Not that I'd trade Michael for any other kid in the world. I wouldn't. But I'd trade for a different world. One where he could have had the family he deserves. Where he and Ben could be a real, legal couple, equal to everyone else.
It might happen. Stranger things have happened, God knows. Look at Brian and Justin. Legally married in California! Who would've believed it? Not me, that's for damn sure.
Which reminds me.
I've been lighting an extra candle lately. One for Brian. I know he doesn't want anyone to mention that he's been sick -- Michael warned me, even after that big interview in 'People' so that everybody and his brother knows. But I don't think mentioning it to God would piss him off. Well, it would piss him off, but I've been doing it anyway, what the hell?
Brian isn't exactly the poster boy for good behavior, at least according to the Catholic Church -- or any church for that matter. But the Church better not go around pointing fingers, especially after what some of His guys have been up to down here on Earth. But Brian is basically a good person. Yeah, he has his moments when he's a total fucking asshole. But then he does something that makes you want to kiss him -- and kill him at the same time. Brian Kinney is the most frustrating fucking guy I've ever known and that's no lie. Poor Sunshine is gonna have his hands full 24/7 with that one. But if there was ever a guy who could handle Brian, it's that little, stubborn, determined kid. I mean, man. Justin isn't a kid anymore. He's a man. And so -- against all odds -- is Brian Kinney.
Who'd ever have thought it was possible?
I light one candle. "There you go, little brother. Sleep in peace." Then I light another. "And you, too, you big asshole. Be well." I cross myself, just to make sure everything is a-okay.
"Debbie Novotny? Is that you?"
Jesus fucking Christ on the Cross, it's Joan Kinney. I know she comes to St. Jude's, but I've never run into her before. Maybe it's fate. Or whatever the fuck.
"Hello, Joan. Didn't expect to see you."
"I often come here in the morning to pray. It's so nice and quiet. But whatever are you doing here?"
Same old Joan. She looks me up and down like she owns this church and I'm something the cat dragged in. You know, she used to be a beautiful woman -- that's where Brian gets his good looks, from her side of the family -- but now she looks all worn out, her hair grey, her face drawn. She could use a nice dye-job. It would take ten years off her.
"Same as you -- praying. And lighting a candle for my brother, Vic."
She nods. "I heard about his passing. I'll remember him in my prayers."
"Thanks. That's nice of you."
We stand there awkwardly. She's clutching her missal and I'm clinging to my old rosary beads. We have so much in common and have known each other for a long time and yet we have nothing to say to each other. Nothing. It makes me wonder if she even has any friends, other than Father Tom and a few of the ladies from the Altar Society. And maybe her daughter. I know damn well that she's not speaking to Brian.
Brian.
"Um, Joan. Have you talked to Brian lately?"
Her face immediately goes hard. "Why would I do that?"
Damn! "Because he's your only son and he's sick, that's why."
"Which I only know about because I read it in some trashy gossip magazine!" she yaps at me. "I don't know anything about his life -- which is apparently the way he wants it!"
I try not to get mad at her. She's a sad, lonely, miserable woman. I know she must love her son, even if she can't admit it. I know how I feel about Michael and I can't imagine she feels any less. He's her child, her baby.
"It doesn't have to be that way," I tell her. "Brian's in town right now. My son Michael is having a birthday party for him at my house on Saturday night. I wish you'd come and see him. The two of you don't have to be angry at each other, especially when he's been so sick -- and he has been pretty sick."
Her face is pale. I can see that she's struggling. She does love Brian -- I know she does! If she could only get past her stupid ideas about sin and gays and all that bullshit. The Jesus I believe in isn't about that. He's about love. And forgiveness.
"I... I... know." She hesitates. "Is that... that boy with him?"
"His name is Justin. Yes, he's here, too. They're married, Joan. They love each other very much. Justin is a beautiful young man. He's been taking good care of Brian all through his treatment for cancer." There! I said the word. And she winces at it.
"I don't want to hear any more!" she snaps. "It's wrong! An abomination! Two men... together! It's a sin! I don't even want to think about it in this holy place."
"Why not?" I remind her. "Jesus never said a word about being gay. Ask Father Tom. He'll tell you." I don't add that I could tell her a few rumors I've heard about Father Tom, but I keep my big trap shut for once.
"I would never bring up such a disgusting subject to Father Tom!" she sniffs. Then she steps back, like she wants to get away from me as fast as possible. "It was nice speaking to you, Debbie, but I have to go now." And she marches toward the altar like she's going to drag Jesus down and get up on that big crucifix herself.
Some fucking people!
Oh, well.
I button up my coat and wrap my scarf around my neck. It may be April, but it's still chilly here in Pittsburgh. Then I walk out into the bright sunlight. It's the beginning of a beautiful day.
Someone is sitting on the steps in front of the church. He turns when he hears the heavy door shut behind me.
"Why, Tim! How are you, honey?"
I haven't seen Tim Reilly in weeks. Ever since Vic died, Tim's sort of retreated. I know Vic's death hit him hard -- maybe even harder than it hit me. I keep calling and inviting him over for dinner or just to hang out with me and Carl and watch TV, but he always says no. Poor Tim -- he and Vic had so many hopes. A second chance at happiness for both of them. But it didn't last long.
He stands up and gives me a big hug. "Fine, Deb. I'm doing fine."
"Did you get my message? Brian's in town and we're having a little birthday party for him on Saturday. Can you believe he's going to be 33? I almost shit when I realized that Michael was 33. Doesn't seem possible. Time sure flies, huh?"
"No," says Tim. "It doesn't seem possible." Tim pauses. His blond hair is almost completely grey now. And it's thinning. I'm not sure how old he is -- he always seemed younger than Vic, but I was never sure. "Listen, Deb, I got your message about the party and I was going to call you back, but then I decided I needed to see you to tell you in person. I went over to the diner and Kiki said you might be here."
"That sounds kind of serious. Tell me what?"
"I can't come to the party because I'm leaving town very soon. Perhaps even on Thursday."
It's Tuesday now. "Leaving?" I have a bad feeling about this. "Are you taking a vacation, honey?"
Tim shakes his head. "Not exactly. I'm leaving Pittsburgh and I doubt I'll be coming back."
Now I'm stunned. "What the fuck do you mean, not coming back? Where the fuck are you going?"
"I'm going to Africa," he says, his voice very soft. "They need volunteers to work with people with AIDS. Many of them are children. It's something I've been thinking about ever since Vic died. It's something I have to do -- to make up for... for so many things."
I take his hand. "You don't need to make up for a goddamn thing! There are people who need you here. What about the guys with HIV who need counseling?"
His blue eyes are so fucking sad. "Anyone can do that job, Deb. But Africa is a chance for me to make a real difference. It's something I should have done long ago."
Now I'm pissed! "You don't need to atone or do penance or any of that shit, Tim. You're not guilty of anything!"
"But I am, Deb," he says. "Not just Brian and betraying my vows, but my whole life. I had such hopes of being a good priest -- the best priest -- and I didn't live up to that. I didn't try hard enough. I was weak. But it's not too late. They need me in Africa. They really need me. No one else really needs me here."
My fucking heart is breaking for Tim, but I know his mind is made up. Then something else occurs to me. Tim, like Vic, is HIV positive. "But what about your meds? How will you take care of yourself in Africa? Where in Africa will you be? Will they have doctors there?"
"I'll be okay," says Tim. "I'm asymptomatic. I'm not sure where I'll be. Wherever they need me, I assume."
"But your meds! They're keeping you healthy!"
"It will work out," he says. "I have to go now. I still have things I need to do before I leave the country. But please don't tell Brian about this. He might try to talk me out of it. Don't tell anyone. I know I can count on you, Deb."
"But..."
"It's the way I want it." Tim kisses me lightly on the cheek. "You know how much I loved Vic. Remember that. He was happy with me -- right up to the end."
"I know, hon. I also know how much you loved Brian. And how much you still love him."
Tim smiles sadly. "Brian is someone who is blessed -- or cursed -- with charisma. It's impossible not to love him. That's the way he was made. But he never really loved me. He does love Justin, though. I know he does. That's all that matters. I'm just a vague memory. And that's the way it should be. Goodbye, Debbie. God bless you."
Tim walks away.
And I know in my heart that I'll never see him again.
***
The house looks great. Perfect for a party. I've made a ton of food and we have vino and music and Lindsay and Melanie have brought some of their cookies. Yeah, I know -- lesbian baked goods. But it's the thought that counts.
As usual, the birthday boy and guest of honor is late.
"Where the hell is Brian?"
"He'll be here, Ma," says Michael. "You know Brian. He and Justin are probably still fucking."
"While we're waiting, can I have a piece of that cake?" says Hunter. That kid has been into the food ever since he got here. He eats like a fucking wolverine.
"Keep your mitts off that cake! You'll have to wait until we sing 'Happy Birthday' and Brian blows the candles out."
Hunter leers. "I'd like to blow that guy's candles out, if you know what I mean!"
"I thought you had a girlfriend."
Hunter shrugs. "I do. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a nice, big dick. And Brian Kinney's is the nicest I can think of."
"Shut up!" Michael smacks the kid on the shoulder. "Don't talk like that in front of my mother about my best friend."
Hunter rolls his eyes. "Jesus! You can't do anything around here."
"Have a cookie." I hand him one of Lindsay's oatmeal specials. "That should hold you until they get here."
Hunter bites into it and grimaces. "Tastes like sawdust. Hey, is Brian really married to that blond bimbo?"
"Yes, he is," I say. "He and Justin are very happy. So back the fuck off."
"Whatever."
Hunter slinks away.
Carl comes up and puts his arm around me. "Looks wonderful, sweetheart. You really know how to put on a spread."
I puff up with pride. "Wait 'til you see the ham I have for Easter tomorrow. It's a beaut."
"That's my girl."
Carl's been talking to me about retiring from the diner. He thinks it wears me out too much, on my feet all day, carrying heavy trays. He wants me to take it easy. That we don't need the money. Carl is going to retire soon himself and he has a nice pension from the Pittsburgh PD. He wants to travel. Maybe buy a condo down in St. Pete's. Kick back and relax. To tell the truth, ever since his boss, Chief Stockwell, lost the election for mayor and then quit under some dicey circumstances that Carl doesn't want to talk about, Carl has lost his enthusiasm for his job. He wants to get away from it all. And Vic's death really shook him up. "That could have been me," he told me. He wants us to enjoy life while we've got the chance.
But I feel like they still need me at the diner. Ever since I found out that Brian bought the place, I feel like I've gotta take care of it for him. I don't trust anyone else. Who would do it? Barney? Kiki?
I guess I could cut down my hours. Maybe only work a couple days a week. But what would I do with the rest of my time? Sit on my ass and watch the soaps? I've worked hard all my life. It's nuts to think about staying home and doing shit all day.
"Ma, Brian and Justin are coming up the walk."
"Everybody hide!" Hunter yells.
"It's not a surprise party, doofus," says Michael.
But the kid shrugs. "So? It's fun to hide."
And in comes the birthday boy and his new husband, Sunshine. The two of them take my breath away, they are so beautiful. Brian looks taller and handsomer than ever and Justin glows like a big blond lightbulb. They both look happier than I've ever seen them before.
"Happy Birthday, honey!" I cry, throwing my arms around both of them. "I missed you fellas so much! Come on in and have some food."
"We just saw you the other day at the diner, Deb," Justin laughs as he takes off his jacket and gives it to Carl to hang up. "Hi, guys!"
"Hello, Brian," Michael gives Brian a quick kiss. "You, too, Justin." And he kisses Justin on the cheek.
Gus launches himself across the room and attaches himself to Brian. "Daddy!"
"Hey, Sonny Boy!" Brian lifts him up in his strong arms. "Where's your sister?"
"Sleepin'," he says. "She sleeps a lot. And cries a lot. And plays with my toys."
"That's what babies do," I tell the kid.
"Charity isn't a baby anymore, Deb," says Justin. "She's a toddler. She's really walking now. We had her at the loft and she was into everything."
"I never thought I'd have to kid-proof my fucking loft," Brian adds.
"There are a lot of things you never thought you'd do," says Justin, giving his husband a poke.
"Don't fucking remind me." Brian sets Gus down. "Now where's the fucking food?"
"Over here in da fuckin' kitchen!" says Gus, pulling at Brian hand.
Justin, Michael, and Carl all bust out laughing. "Oops," says Justin. "I warned you to watch your language around Gus, Brian."
"Too late for that," Brian replies.
"Can I have some cake now?" asks Hunter.
"Yeah," I says. "Let's cut the fucking cake."
And we all head for the kitchen where Lindsay and Mel are taking a casserole dish out of the oven and Ben is stirring some veggie crap on the stove and Ted and Emmett are bickering over where to sit at the table.
The family is all here. All together.
The way it should be.
Thanks, God. I appreciate it.
Now let's eat some lasagna!
***
"We are family,
I got all my sisters with me.
We are family,
Get up everybody and sing!
Living life is fun and we've just begun
To get our share of the world's delights.
(HIGH!) high hopes we have for the future,
And our goal's in sight.
(WE!) no we don't get depressed,
Here's what we call our golden rule:
Have faith in you and the things you do
You won't go wrong --
This is our family jewel.
We are family..."
(Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards)
Debbie thinks about the past, the present, and the future.
This is Chapter 112 in the "Queer Identities" series.
The narrator is Debbie Novotny, and features Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor, Tim Reilly, Joan Kinney, Carl Horvath, Michael Novotny, Hunter Montgomery, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Always Family. Pittsburgh, April 2004.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. This is for fun, not profit. Enjoy.
Earlier "QI" chapters online and on the LJ are here:
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaelmcgear/Gaedhalficpage.html
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaedhal/
Most recent "QI" chapters on the LJ are here:
Ch. 109 "Chupacabra"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/449083.html
Ch. 110 "It's Raining Men"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/449985.html
Ch. 111 "High School Confidential"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/451537.html
By Gaedhal
"We are family,
I got all my sisters with me.
We are family,
Get up everybody and sing!
Everyone can see we're together,
As we walk on by.
(FLY!) and we fly just like birds of a feather,
I won't tell no lie.
(ALL!) all of the people around us they say,
'Can they be that close'?
Just let me state for the record,
We're giving love in a family dose..."
***
Most people wouldn't think I'm a religious person.
Yeah, I have a big, dirty mouth -- which Carl says he loves. And I'm opinionated on stuff like gays and birth control and abortion and how the Pope should keep his big trap shut on those issues. Pot, kettle, black? Maybe, but what the fuck?
But I am religious. I was raised to be a good little Catholic girl and you can't get away from that so easily. Shit knows, I've tried. But it doesn't work. And it's especially been bad since Vic died. I find myself heading over to St. Jude's in the morning before my shift at the diner and sometimes heading over after my shift's over. I don't spend a lot of time there. Just enough to light a small candle and say a short prayer. It's mainly the thought that counts. Yeah, I know I could pray just as well at home, but being in that cold old church, surrounded by the stained glass, the flickering candles, the musty, spicy smell of the place -- it just feels right. It feels like I'm a little girl again, waiting to say my Confession. Or kneeling next to my grandmother at early Mass, listening to her say her rosary in Italian.
Maybe I'm just getting older -- I'm the same age my grandmother was when I was a little girl. But no grandchildren for me. That hurts sometimes. I try not to think about it. You get what you get in this life and you have to make do.
You just have to.
Not that I'd trade Michael for any other kid in the world. I wouldn't. But I'd trade for a different world. One where he could have had the family he deserves. Where he and Ben could be a real, legal couple, equal to everyone else.
It might happen. Stranger things have happened, God knows. Look at Brian and Justin. Legally married in California! Who would've believed it? Not me, that's for damn sure.
Which reminds me.
I've been lighting an extra candle lately. One for Brian. I know he doesn't want anyone to mention that he's been sick -- Michael warned me, even after that big interview in 'People' so that everybody and his brother knows. But I don't think mentioning it to God would piss him off. Well, it would piss him off, but I've been doing it anyway, what the hell?
Brian isn't exactly the poster boy for good behavior, at least according to the Catholic Church -- or any church for that matter. But the Church better not go around pointing fingers, especially after what some of His guys have been up to down here on Earth. But Brian is basically a good person. Yeah, he has his moments when he's a total fucking asshole. But then he does something that makes you want to kiss him -- and kill him at the same time. Brian Kinney is the most frustrating fucking guy I've ever known and that's no lie. Poor Sunshine is gonna have his hands full 24/7 with that one. But if there was ever a guy who could handle Brian, it's that little, stubborn, determined kid. I mean, man. Justin isn't a kid anymore. He's a man. And so -- against all odds -- is Brian Kinney.
Who'd ever have thought it was possible?
I light one candle. "There you go, little brother. Sleep in peace." Then I light another. "And you, too, you big asshole. Be well." I cross myself, just to make sure everything is a-okay.
"Debbie Novotny? Is that you?"
Jesus fucking Christ on the Cross, it's Joan Kinney. I know she comes to St. Jude's, but I've never run into her before. Maybe it's fate. Or whatever the fuck.
"Hello, Joan. Didn't expect to see you."
"I often come here in the morning to pray. It's so nice and quiet. But whatever are you doing here?"
Same old Joan. She looks me up and down like she owns this church and I'm something the cat dragged in. You know, she used to be a beautiful woman -- that's where Brian gets his good looks, from her side of the family -- but now she looks all worn out, her hair grey, her face drawn. She could use a nice dye-job. It would take ten years off her.
"Same as you -- praying. And lighting a candle for my brother, Vic."
She nods. "I heard about his passing. I'll remember him in my prayers."
"Thanks. That's nice of you."
We stand there awkwardly. She's clutching her missal and I'm clinging to my old rosary beads. We have so much in common and have known each other for a long time and yet we have nothing to say to each other. Nothing. It makes me wonder if she even has any friends, other than Father Tom and a few of the ladies from the Altar Society. And maybe her daughter. I know damn well that she's not speaking to Brian.
Brian.
"Um, Joan. Have you talked to Brian lately?"
Her face immediately goes hard. "Why would I do that?"
Damn! "Because he's your only son and he's sick, that's why."
"Which I only know about because I read it in some trashy gossip magazine!" she yaps at me. "I don't know anything about his life -- which is apparently the way he wants it!"
I try not to get mad at her. She's a sad, lonely, miserable woman. I know she must love her son, even if she can't admit it. I know how I feel about Michael and I can't imagine she feels any less. He's her child, her baby.
"It doesn't have to be that way," I tell her. "Brian's in town right now. My son Michael is having a birthday party for him at my house on Saturday night. I wish you'd come and see him. The two of you don't have to be angry at each other, especially when he's been so sick -- and he has been pretty sick."
Her face is pale. I can see that she's struggling. She does love Brian -- I know she does! If she could only get past her stupid ideas about sin and gays and all that bullshit. The Jesus I believe in isn't about that. He's about love. And forgiveness.
"I... I... know." She hesitates. "Is that... that boy with him?"
"His name is Justin. Yes, he's here, too. They're married, Joan. They love each other very much. Justin is a beautiful young man. He's been taking good care of Brian all through his treatment for cancer." There! I said the word. And she winces at it.
"I don't want to hear any more!" she snaps. "It's wrong! An abomination! Two men... together! It's a sin! I don't even want to think about it in this holy place."
"Why not?" I remind her. "Jesus never said a word about being gay. Ask Father Tom. He'll tell you." I don't add that I could tell her a few rumors I've heard about Father Tom, but I keep my big trap shut for once.
"I would never bring up such a disgusting subject to Father Tom!" she sniffs. Then she steps back, like she wants to get away from me as fast as possible. "It was nice speaking to you, Debbie, but I have to go now." And she marches toward the altar like she's going to drag Jesus down and get up on that big crucifix herself.
Some fucking people!
Oh, well.
I button up my coat and wrap my scarf around my neck. It may be April, but it's still chilly here in Pittsburgh. Then I walk out into the bright sunlight. It's the beginning of a beautiful day.
Someone is sitting on the steps in front of the church. He turns when he hears the heavy door shut behind me.
"Why, Tim! How are you, honey?"
I haven't seen Tim Reilly in weeks. Ever since Vic died, Tim's sort of retreated. I know Vic's death hit him hard -- maybe even harder than it hit me. I keep calling and inviting him over for dinner or just to hang out with me and Carl and watch TV, but he always says no. Poor Tim -- he and Vic had so many hopes. A second chance at happiness for both of them. But it didn't last long.
He stands up and gives me a big hug. "Fine, Deb. I'm doing fine."
"Did you get my message? Brian's in town and we're having a little birthday party for him on Saturday. Can you believe he's going to be 33? I almost shit when I realized that Michael was 33. Doesn't seem possible. Time sure flies, huh?"
"No," says Tim. "It doesn't seem possible." Tim pauses. His blond hair is almost completely grey now. And it's thinning. I'm not sure how old he is -- he always seemed younger than Vic, but I was never sure. "Listen, Deb, I got your message about the party and I was going to call you back, but then I decided I needed to see you to tell you in person. I went over to the diner and Kiki said you might be here."
"That sounds kind of serious. Tell me what?"
"I can't come to the party because I'm leaving town very soon. Perhaps even on Thursday."
It's Tuesday now. "Leaving?" I have a bad feeling about this. "Are you taking a vacation, honey?"
Tim shakes his head. "Not exactly. I'm leaving Pittsburgh and I doubt I'll be coming back."
Now I'm stunned. "What the fuck do you mean, not coming back? Where the fuck are you going?"
"I'm going to Africa," he says, his voice very soft. "They need volunteers to work with people with AIDS. Many of them are children. It's something I've been thinking about ever since Vic died. It's something I have to do -- to make up for... for so many things."
I take his hand. "You don't need to make up for a goddamn thing! There are people who need you here. What about the guys with HIV who need counseling?"
His blue eyes are so fucking sad. "Anyone can do that job, Deb. But Africa is a chance for me to make a real difference. It's something I should have done long ago."
Now I'm pissed! "You don't need to atone or do penance or any of that shit, Tim. You're not guilty of anything!"
"But I am, Deb," he says. "Not just Brian and betraying my vows, but my whole life. I had such hopes of being a good priest -- the best priest -- and I didn't live up to that. I didn't try hard enough. I was weak. But it's not too late. They need me in Africa. They really need me. No one else really needs me here."
My fucking heart is breaking for Tim, but I know his mind is made up. Then something else occurs to me. Tim, like Vic, is HIV positive. "But what about your meds? How will you take care of yourself in Africa? Where in Africa will you be? Will they have doctors there?"
"I'll be okay," says Tim. "I'm asymptomatic. I'm not sure where I'll be. Wherever they need me, I assume."
"But your meds! They're keeping you healthy!"
"It will work out," he says. "I have to go now. I still have things I need to do before I leave the country. But please don't tell Brian about this. He might try to talk me out of it. Don't tell anyone. I know I can count on you, Deb."
"But..."
"It's the way I want it." Tim kisses me lightly on the cheek. "You know how much I loved Vic. Remember that. He was happy with me -- right up to the end."
"I know, hon. I also know how much you loved Brian. And how much you still love him."
Tim smiles sadly. "Brian is someone who is blessed -- or cursed -- with charisma. It's impossible not to love him. That's the way he was made. But he never really loved me. He does love Justin, though. I know he does. That's all that matters. I'm just a vague memory. And that's the way it should be. Goodbye, Debbie. God bless you."
Tim walks away.
And I know in my heart that I'll never see him again.
***
The house looks great. Perfect for a party. I've made a ton of food and we have vino and music and Lindsay and Melanie have brought some of their cookies. Yeah, I know -- lesbian baked goods. But it's the thought that counts.
As usual, the birthday boy and guest of honor is late.
"Where the hell is Brian?"
"He'll be here, Ma," says Michael. "You know Brian. He and Justin are probably still fucking."
"While we're waiting, can I have a piece of that cake?" says Hunter. That kid has been into the food ever since he got here. He eats like a fucking wolverine.
"Keep your mitts off that cake! You'll have to wait until we sing 'Happy Birthday' and Brian blows the candles out."
Hunter leers. "I'd like to blow that guy's candles out, if you know what I mean!"
"I thought you had a girlfriend."
Hunter shrugs. "I do. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a nice, big dick. And Brian Kinney's is the nicest I can think of."
"Shut up!" Michael smacks the kid on the shoulder. "Don't talk like that in front of my mother about my best friend."
Hunter rolls his eyes. "Jesus! You can't do anything around here."
"Have a cookie." I hand him one of Lindsay's oatmeal specials. "That should hold you until they get here."
Hunter bites into it and grimaces. "Tastes like sawdust. Hey, is Brian really married to that blond bimbo?"
"Yes, he is," I say. "He and Justin are very happy. So back the fuck off."
"Whatever."
Hunter slinks away.
Carl comes up and puts his arm around me. "Looks wonderful, sweetheart. You really know how to put on a spread."
I puff up with pride. "Wait 'til you see the ham I have for Easter tomorrow. It's a beaut."
"That's my girl."
Carl's been talking to me about retiring from the diner. He thinks it wears me out too much, on my feet all day, carrying heavy trays. He wants me to take it easy. That we don't need the money. Carl is going to retire soon himself and he has a nice pension from the Pittsburgh PD. He wants to travel. Maybe buy a condo down in St. Pete's. Kick back and relax. To tell the truth, ever since his boss, Chief Stockwell, lost the election for mayor and then quit under some dicey circumstances that Carl doesn't want to talk about, Carl has lost his enthusiasm for his job. He wants to get away from it all. And Vic's death really shook him up. "That could have been me," he told me. He wants us to enjoy life while we've got the chance.
But I feel like they still need me at the diner. Ever since I found out that Brian bought the place, I feel like I've gotta take care of it for him. I don't trust anyone else. Who would do it? Barney? Kiki?
I guess I could cut down my hours. Maybe only work a couple days a week. But what would I do with the rest of my time? Sit on my ass and watch the soaps? I've worked hard all my life. It's nuts to think about staying home and doing shit all day.
"Ma, Brian and Justin are coming up the walk."
"Everybody hide!" Hunter yells.
"It's not a surprise party, doofus," says Michael.
But the kid shrugs. "So? It's fun to hide."
And in comes the birthday boy and his new husband, Sunshine. The two of them take my breath away, they are so beautiful. Brian looks taller and handsomer than ever and Justin glows like a big blond lightbulb. They both look happier than I've ever seen them before.
"Happy Birthday, honey!" I cry, throwing my arms around both of them. "I missed you fellas so much! Come on in and have some food."
"We just saw you the other day at the diner, Deb," Justin laughs as he takes off his jacket and gives it to Carl to hang up. "Hi, guys!"
"Hello, Brian," Michael gives Brian a quick kiss. "You, too, Justin." And he kisses Justin on the cheek.
Gus launches himself across the room and attaches himself to Brian. "Daddy!"
"Hey, Sonny Boy!" Brian lifts him up in his strong arms. "Where's your sister?"
"Sleepin'," he says. "She sleeps a lot. And cries a lot. And plays with my toys."
"That's what babies do," I tell the kid.
"Charity isn't a baby anymore, Deb," says Justin. "She's a toddler. She's really walking now. We had her at the loft and she was into everything."
"I never thought I'd have to kid-proof my fucking loft," Brian adds.
"There are a lot of things you never thought you'd do," says Justin, giving his husband a poke.
"Don't fucking remind me." Brian sets Gus down. "Now where's the fucking food?"
"Over here in da fuckin' kitchen!" says Gus, pulling at Brian hand.
Justin, Michael, and Carl all bust out laughing. "Oops," says Justin. "I warned you to watch your language around Gus, Brian."
"Too late for that," Brian replies.
"Can I have some cake now?" asks Hunter.
"Yeah," I says. "Let's cut the fucking cake."
And we all head for the kitchen where Lindsay and Mel are taking a casserole dish out of the oven and Ben is stirring some veggie crap on the stove and Ted and Emmett are bickering over where to sit at the table.
The family is all here. All together.
The way it should be.
Thanks, God. I appreciate it.
Now let's eat some lasagna!
***
"We are family,
I got all my sisters with me.
We are family,
Get up everybody and sing!
Living life is fun and we've just begun
To get our share of the world's delights.
(HIGH!) high hopes we have for the future,
And our goal's in sight.
(WE!) no we don't get depressed,
Here's what we call our golden rule:
Have faith in you and the things you do
You won't go wrong --
This is our family jewel.
We are family..."
(Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards)