Caleb reaches a hand out and places it on her shoulder, halting her admission. He begins to sign, which I interpret for him. “If I can be a little presumptuous here, I’d say you have not failed as a mother. Sure, it appears that you’re taken aback, as is to be expected, but you still being here and accepting responsibility is huge. I think what you’re perceiving as failure is what could potentially cause the tides to change for your family. You may not fully understand our relationship, but that’s okay in the grand scheme of things. We’re still figuring it out as we go. But what does count for something is that your main concern is whether or not Marcus is happy and fulfilled, and that’s what truly matters.”
Kimber offers him a tight lipped smile. “Thank you, Caleb. Gosh, that means a lot to me, you have no idea.” She peers back up at Marcus. “With your permission, Son, I’d like to stay, if I may, to get to know everyone better, to spend some time with Brody, and to salvage what’s left of today. I don’t know where Lorey ended up, but I will be certain to try to calm him down.”
Marcus nods. “You can stay.”
I butt in, “And try not to judge my roast beef too harshly, Mrs. Antonucci. I did try to follow your recipe, but I’m afraid I probably didn’t do it as much justice as you do…”
She grins at that. Pulling me in for an unexpected hug, she replies, “That’s okay, Lauren. I’ll still love you, no matter how badly you bungle the beef.”
By the time Lorenzo comes back around—hours later, around dusk—my family has all started their treks back to their respective homes. Marcus has changed into some shirt-and-pants pajamas by now, and Kimber is actually sitting on the floor with Brody, allowing Ivy to slither up her arm. For a moment there, I was concerned we may have to take her to an Urgent Care for the jump-scare she nearly had when Peppadew came cruising out of Cam’s room, hoping for a little morsel to fall to the floor from our Christmas dinner.
Marcus’ dad looks to be more than just a tad bit on the tipsy side when he rings the doorbell on our front stoop, propping himself up on one of the posts. Marcus stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He waits for Lorenzo to speak up first.
“May I come in?” his father asks, slurring slightly.
“Depends on how you’re going to act,” Marcus replies.
“That any way to speak to your father?” Lorenzo snaps back.
“It is when he was a disrespectful asshole earlier, took off for most of the day, and came back wasted.”
“M’notwasted,” Lorenzo balks. “I had a little to drink when I found some old fella down by the pier. We shot the shit for a little bit while he tinkered on his boat.”
“Who?” Marcus asks. “Dad, you don’t know anyone around here…”
“I don’t know, Marcus,” Lorenzo says, swaying on his heels. “Said his name was Wagon—orWagner—or something. Doesn’t matter, I suppose, I’ll likely never see ‘em again, but he did give me a good talkin’ to ‘bout how Ishouldhave reacted earlier… I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Lorenzo shoves his way in and shuts the door behind him. “For treatin’ you the way I did, okay? You’re my only son, and I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have stayed here, like your mother, and let you explain.”
Marcus eyes his father with scrutiny for a moment before clearing his throat. “So, let me see if I got this correctly… you met Wagner Waters, the guy that is practically considered royalty in this town—my boss’s father—and you had an honest to god heart-to-heart with him about finding out I’m queer and storming out of here?”
Lorenzo nods. “Yeah, I s’pose I did. And there was whiskey. A hell of a lot of whiskey. That guy can sure as hell put ‘em down alright. But he put me in my place. Told me there wasn’t anything wrong with my son being gay. One of his is too, I guess.”
Marcus and Caleb both snort at that. I’m assuming that meansbothof Wagner’s sons identify somewhere on the rainbow, I guess, if they know something I don’t about Gannett.
Lorenzo turns towards Caleb. “M’sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. M’sorry we’re meeting like this now. If I could, I’d like to take a mulligan and try again… better this time. I think I’d also like to know why there’s a friggin’ snake crawling up my wife right now too.”
“This is Ivy. Brody’s snake,” Kimber says, patting the couch cushion above her. “Come sit, but be warned, they have a skunk here too. It’s anemotional support skunk, if you can imagine,” she adds, chuckling.
For the rest of the night, even into the next day—which means I will have to reschedule mine and Marcus’ date day for a later time—Lorenzo is on his best behavior. Whatever Wagner said to him must have been profound because Marcus’ dad was a hell of a lot less terrifying the entire time. I know he’s still having a hard time wrapping his head around everything, but like Caleb said, he doesn’t have to understand it… he just has to accept that it’s what makes Marcus happy.
By the time they hopped in their car and headed back down to Pennsylvania, I know I was emotionally drained. I can’t imagine what Marco is going through right now. All I know is that he’s gonna get some extra hard cuddling from me tonight.
“Marco,” I say, taking his hand while he’s attempting to straighten up the kitchen. “Come to bed, baby. Let’s worry about this mess later.”
“I’ve got it,” Caleb offers. “I’ll get everything put up so you guys can go cuddle.”
“Thank you,” Marcus says on a relieved sigh. “Both of you. For everything. I love you both so much.”
“Caleb,” I say, gripping his chin and turning his head to face me, “try some of the grounding exercises you’ve been working on with your therapist.”
His eyes remain fixed on the summit of the mountain, however. I call it a mountain, but it’s more like a bunny slope. A good starter hill for when you’re just starting out on skis or snowboards, so I’ve been told.There isn’t even a real lift here, just some grab-bars on a tow rope. It’s that small,nothinglike Mount Washington.
I’m sure something like this will, in all likelihood, be boring for him, since he still goes out snowboarding on his own, and all the tension radiating from him now is because he’s panicking about being here with his family. My intention, when I booked us day passes, wasn’t to leave him anxiety-ridden; it was meant to have him realize—fully appreciate—that his and Aaron’s accident was an isolated incident. A shitty one, yes, but a rarity nonetheless.
Brody snaps Caleb out of his terror induced state by stepping up beside him and fitting his mittened hand in Caleb’s gloved one. He peers up at Caleb. “Can you show me how to shred on this thing?” he inquires, waggling the rental snowboard tucked under his other arm. “Or at least how to work the buckles that strap my feet in?”
