18. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Gary

G ary’s stomach was in knots as Jeff pulled up the driveway to his father’s house on the outskirts of Youngstown. When Jeff cut the engine, Gary continued to stare out the window, thunderstruck. Somehow, the man who had missed so much of Gary’s childhood had been living relatively close by, and yet, Gary hadn’t seen him once in the more than twenty years that had passed. Gary tried to picture his father living here, walking up the rickety-looking stairs that led to the porch, coming home from... whatever it was he’d done for work, and the image made the knots in his stomach tighten. He had been less than a half hour away all this time. And now he was gone.

Jeff’s hand found his.

“I’m here.” Jeff kissed his knuckles.

“I know.” Gary paused to swallow. “Should we wait for Dawn?”

“We could. Didn’t you say she was a flake, though?”

“Yeah. God, what if she doesn’t show?”

“Then you can take home whatever stuff you want to keep and tell her how long she has before you call Bereavement Cleanout Services or whatever that company is called.”

“Yeah, okay.” Gary let out a long breath. “Geez, I’m nervous.”

Jeff let go of Gary’s hand and took hold of the collar of his T-shirt. “Come here. ”

Gary couldn’t help but smile a little as Jeff pulled him in for a kiss. And then, when they parted, Jeff proceeded to leave soft little kisses all over Gary’s face before kissing him once more on the lips.

“You’re not alone. Even if your family bails on you.”

Forcing a nod, Gary said, “Okay.”

Slowly, they made their way to the front door. Gary kept stopping on the way, pausing to inspect the unstable railing or check out the bushes. His heart was in his throat the entire time.

When they went in, Gary was nearly knocked backward by the smell. It wasn’t that the house smelled bad—for the most part, it smelled like every other old house he’d ever been in—but that there was a second smell, one that was so strangely familiar.

Jeff’s hand found the small of his back.

“It smells like him,” Gary said, his voice faraway. “I hadn’t even... I mean...” He shook his head, bewildered. “It’s been so many years. How could I...”

Trailing off, Gary staggered farther into the house and tried to take in everything else—the ratty furniture and how everything looked so beaten up, the fact that there weren’t ashtrays on every surface, the bare walls.

Jeff came up beside him. “Do we need to clean out the fridge or something?”

“No.” Gary shook his head. “Dawn said that Aunt Grace—his sister—she came by and took care of it already. I only need to see if there’s anything I want to keep.”

Gary started for the stairs. He wanted to see the bedroom. Would his father’s scent be stronger there? Could it really be that his brain remembered his father’s smell from over twenty years ago? Or was his mind only trying to make sense of everything? Assigning memories to the scent at random? Nighttime cuddles. Hugs when he’d skinned his knee. Little him hiding in a closet filled with his father’s long-sleeve plaid shirts .

“Do you want me to follow you?” Jeff called as Gary began climbing the stairs.

Gary paused only when he reached the last step, his hand resting atop the railing. “Uh, sure, yeah, come on up.”

There were only three rooms on the second floor: a small bathroom, what looked like it was supposed to have been an office but was mostly storage, and the main bedroom. Walking through the doorway into the bedroom, Gary’s nose wrinkled. He’d been right about the scent. It was stronger in here.

His throat tightened when he saw the bed—the covers pulled back, beige sheets crumpled and creased, pillow slightly indented. His father had slept here. He had slept here and climbed out of bed and hadn’t known that he’d never come back to it. Or, had he known? Had he been someone who had typically made the bed but had purposefully left it unmade this one last time because, well, why make the bed nice enough to climb into if you had the feeling that you were never coming back? Gary’s heart clenched. He supposed he’d never know.

Dazed, Gary reached out a hand, letting his fingertips touch the cold fabric of the pillowcase. He thought about lying down there for just a few minutes, about being able to experience a tiny bit of his dad’s life, but then he backed away. He couldn’t do it. Not with Jeff there.

Turning away from the bed, Gary’s eyes drifted around the room, stopping when they landed on the closed doors of the closet.

“I think I want to check the closet,” Gary said. “I still can’t believe the smell.”

“Do you want to take a couple of shirts home?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

He started walking toward the closet, each step a chore. But he felt Jeff behind him, lending him strength. He swallowed hard .

“It’s weird,” Gary began as he stopped just in front of the closet, “I spent years simultaneously missing him and hating him, but then, when I was in my twenties, I tried to forget about him. It wasn’t like I really forgot him or anything, but I had successfully boxed everything related to him away for a while. Ironically enough, I’d kept them boxed up until receiving that box of my old childhood stuff a few months ago. When I saw one of the photographs in there...” Gary let out a long, dramatic breath. “Phew, boy, that was it. Every memory of him came rushing back to me. I felt weird for a while, and then I received the news from Dawn that cancer had taken him, and... well, now that I know he’s dead, I’m not really mad anymore. I’m mostly sad.” Gary opened the closet to reveal a row of mostly plaid shirts. “Probably because of what my sister implied with my mom potentially keeping him from me, but I think it’s more than that. I can’t seem to stop thinking about everything good.”

“Good times, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Were there a lot of them?”

“Oh, yeah, tons. I think.”

Gary started flipping through the shirts—checking one and then sliding the hanger over and then moving to the next—while Jeff waited nearby. Gary ended up taking a couple of them—blue and black, blue and gray, red and black—even though they’d probably be a little big. Maybe they could be bed shirts for the winter or something.

After choosing the shirts he wanted to keep, Gary laid them on the bed and then went back to the closet. There didn’t seem to be much else in there—no disorganized stacks of records or books or photo albums, no stashes of Christmas wrapping paper, no piles of papers. However, he did notice a small hatbox on the floor. He knelt down to inspect it, and when he moved to take off the lid, his heart started beating faster, worried that he’d find something terrible waiting inside. It was only a hatbox, but with its floral pattern, it seemed so strangely out of place in the mostly brown and beige bedroom.

Inside, there were envelopes. Many, many envelopes. Unsent letters?

Mostly unsent, he realized, as he picked them up and began thumbing slowly through them.

There was one , tucked way down at the bottom of the stack. As though to hide it. Shamefully.

It was addressed to him and to his sister.

And had been sent to his childhood home.

And then marked “Return to Sender.”

“Hey Jeff?” Gary said, pulling the letter out of the stack.

Jeff came over and knelt beside him. “What is it?”

Gary handed the letter to him. Wordlessly, Jeff turned it over in his hands before handing it back. And then Gary tore it open.

Dear Gary and Dawn,

Nope.

Gary ripped the letter in half.

Eyes blurring with tears, he tried to piece it back together.

Shoot.

“Oh, God, Jeff, I hadn’t meant to—”

“It’s okay, Gare,” Jeff said. “We’ll tape it.”

“What if Dawn sees it and—”

“Hey, she’s the one who bailed.”

“Right.” Gary inhaled a trembling breath. “Right.” He stuffed the letter back into the envelope and ran his fingers over the ink.

Return. To. Sender.

“Why?” he asked, though he knew Jeff wouldn’t have the answer.

“I . . . fuck, I’m so sorry, radio man.”

Gary blinked back a few tears and sniffled. “Thanks. Uh, can you... can you take me to my mom’s house?”

“Don’t you want to sit with this for a while? Digest it?”

“No,” Gary eked out while a couple of tears fell.

Shit. Why was he crying? He wanted to be strong for Jeff. He had to be. He couldn’t chance a repeat of the last time Jeff had felt the need to comfort him, to make him feel better. God, the way Jeff had seemed so scared when they’d been intimate...

“I’m okay,” Gary said, forcing his voice not to shake. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Clenching his jaw, Gary squeezed his eyes shut to try to keep more from coming. “I’m fine. But I need to talk to her. Now.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.”

He stuffed the letter back in the hatbox and gathered up the box and the few shirts he’d picked out, and then the two of them headed to the car.

For the entire ride back to Niles, Gary felt like a pressure cooker ready to explode. Not only from sadness. But from anger too. Clearly his mom had not only known where his dad was but also that his dad had tried to communicate with him. At least once. Ever since his father had left, the narrative that Gary had been sold by everyone had been that his father had no longer cared.

And now... now Gary had to wonder if that was even true.

While Jeff zoomed up the freeway, Gary kept his eyes fixed on the hatbox, his entire body stiff, mouth firmly shut. He might scream or cry or maybe even start hyperventilating if he so much as moved an inch. Luckily, Jeff seemed to take the hint, never even trying for conversation. What a fantastic boyfriend he was. Gary had to hope that he could sort through everything on his own. Even though he felt like he was on the verge of losing the rest of his family, he had to hold it together. Even if his life was crumbling to pieces, he couldn’t let himself fall apart with it. He couldn’t let his relationship with Jeff crumble too.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Jeff pulled up the driveway to Gary’s mom’s house. Gary could see Dawn in the backyard with her kids. What a flake. Moving slow to keep himself from shaking, Gary unclipped his seat belt. He was moving so methodically he probably looked like he was trying to dismantle some kind of bomb rather than exit a vehicle.

When he was free of the seat belt, he turned to Jeff.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came with me today,” he said, working hard to keep his voice level, though there were still tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Do you want me to come in to—”

“No,” Gary interrupted, though his stomach lurched. “No, I-I think I need to do this alone.”

“Okay. But call me if you need a ride back home.”

“Yeah. I will.”

“Do you, uh, want the shirts too?” Jeff asked, thumbing toward the back seat.

“Uhm, maybe later.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll bring ’em by.”

Gary reached for the handle.

“Good luck, Gare.”

With a curt nod, Gary exited the car.

***

One hour later, Gary was walking home in a stupor, still clutching tight to the hatbox in his hands but barely aware of his surroundings otherwise. He only realized his brain and body must have been on autopilot once he reached his house. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to remember even two minutes of the entire walk home.

After pulling his keys from his pocket, he checked his watch. Fifteen minutes before showtime. Not enough time to eat. Not enough time to talk to Mel. Not even enough time to flip through the newspaper to pick out topics for the news segment of his show. Oh well.

Once inside, Gary left the hatbox on the love seat in the studio room and then sat in his swivel chair. Staring ahead at the mixer, bits and pieces of the conversation he’d just had with his mother kept flitting through his mind.

“Gare, it was better for both of you that he wasn’t in your lives.”

“But why?!”

“Leave it, hun.”

“No, I want you to tell me why you kept him from me.”

“He left us . Don’t you remember?”

“Well, yeah, but... but he tried to reach out to me. And to Dawn, too.”

“So what, Gare? He left .”

“But maybe he... maybe he realized that he made a mistake . ”

“Mistake?! He left me to raise the two of you. Alone.”

“So, is that why you kept him from me? Out of spite?”

“Of course not.”

“It is! Why’d you return the letter? Why wouldn’t you let me see him?”

“Gare, hun —”

“It was my choice to make! What if I wanted him in my life?”

“You were only a teenager!”

“Well, then you couldn’t have told me later? When I was older? You’ve been sitting on this knowledge for that long?! ”

Gary’s hands found the top of his head, and he closed his eyes to try to protect himself from the pain, but the scene kept playing.

“Gare, I’m your mother and — ”

“No, you know what? Not . . . not anymore.”

Gary winced, the sound of the back door slamming echoing in his mind.

All of a sudden, Gary started feeling lightheaded, the edges of reality starting to blur. Gosh, he’d barely been breathing. And he still couldn’t breathe, the weight of the confrontation so heavy that he felt as though his body was being crushed.

For the next couple of seconds, Gary strained against the heaviness, trying to force enough air into his lungs, but still, it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he continued to feel like he was suffocating. All of the emotions he was feeling in that moment—anger, shame, resentment, heartbreak, longing—seemed to be taking up so much space in his chest that there was no longer enough room for oxygen.

He’d lost her. He’d lost his mother.

Sure, it was his choice. But... what kind of choice was it, really? How could he ever see her the same way? How could he even love her the same way? She had lied to him. Over and over and over. She’d kept his father from him. And now...

Now it was too late.

Dizzy, Gary lay his head on the table. Breathing in small, shallow huffs, Gary stopped trying to fight the heaviness, instead surrendering himself to the crushing weight, telling himself that if the loss of his family was too much for him to bear, if the loss actually killed him, at least it might mean he could see his father again. Gary could tell him that he was sorry for ever hating him. He could find out why he left. He could find out why he had tried to come back. He could tell his father everything. Everything about the radio station and teaching and Jeff .

Jeff.

Panic zipped through Gary’s veins, causing him to bolt upright and check the clock. Three minutes past showtime. God, he couldn’t have Jeff rushing over here like the last time he’d been too upset to host the show. He couldn’t keep being this needy, insecure monster.

Hastily, Gary scrambled to start the program.

“Hey, folks, sorry for the slight mishap. Just had a bit of trouble with my equipment there. But, well, here I am. Everything is back to normal here in the Gary Graham estate. Now, I have to say, I have been woefully behind on my newspaper reading lately.” Fumbling with fingers that couldn’t seem to stop trembling, Gary started rifling through the pages of the local paper. Shit, shit, shit. “Oh boy, wow, I see that we have a community flea market coming up next weekend. Don’t want to miss that. Tony’s Pizza will be there offering free slices to the sellers and one-dollar slices for everyone else. Yum!”

Gary continued to flounder for the rest of the show. By the time he only had a couple of minutes left, he could barely keep himself together, his mind fuzzy, muscles feeling weak. Somehow, he had managed to conceal both his panic and his sadness for the entirety of the program, but the facade was finally starting to crack.

“So, uhm, that’s the neat fact I wanted to share with you about chocolate,” Gary said, his voice becoming smaller and smaller, too tired to keep this up for much longer. “I think that tomorrow maybe I’ll try to find out some information on the history of hot chocolate, but...” Suddenly, Gary was thrust into the past, remembering a time he’d had hot chocolate with his sister. They'd both felt sad that there were no more marshmallows in the cupboard, but their dad had told them not to worry, and he had run to the store and then come back home with three kinds—tiny ones, regular ones, and huge ones that could barely fit in their mugs. His eyes started to fill with tears. “Sorry...” God, he couldn’t even remember what he had been saying. “I... uhm...” Something with hot chocolate. Or marshmallows. “I think I might turn in early.” His voice was shaking. Why couldn’t he keep it together? Only two more minutes. “I...” Several tears fell. Fuck. “So, well, take care.”

Quickly, Gary fumbled to turn off the equipment, and the second the microphone was off, he started to sob. Unable to stop crying, he reached for the phone.

It took a few rings for Mel to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Mel, it’s me,” Gary said through a barely stifled sob. “Can you talk? I know it’s late, and I know you have work tomorrow, but—”

“Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

Gary proceeded to tell her everything. All the while, he kept crying, and by the end, his throat felt raw and his face was puffy and God, he was such a mess, but Mel was... oh, she was so sweet and reassuring. She listened to everything Gary had to say, and when he was finished blubbering, she told him how much she loved him and reassured him that he would never lose her. Ever .

“Even though we’re not related by blood, you’re my family, Gare.”

Her words wrapped themselves around him like a comforting hug.

“Thanks, Mel. You’re mine too.”

“Look, I know you said you’re trying not to seem too needy, but I think you should call Jeff.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Because Jeff needed him to be better than this .

“He really cares about you,” Mel said. “I think he should have the chance to be there for you. He’s your boyfriend.”

“But—”

“How would you feel if he was keeping something like this from you? Wouldn’t you be upset if you ever found out that even though he’d been in pain, he hadn’t come to you for comfort but had tried to hide it instead?”

Gary remembered the way Jeff had tried to hide how their physical intimacy had been hurting him, the way Jeff had stiffened from his touch, the way Jeff had said “Just ignore it,” and, shoot, he never ever wanted Jeff to try to hide from him again. He had promised himself that he wanted to show Jeff it was okay to be vulnerable, but that meant that he had to be okay with being vulnerable too.

“Okay,” Gary said. “You’re right. I’ll call.”

Once Gary and Mel hung up, Gary took a deep breath and dialed Jeff’s number.