CHAPTER FOUR

Frank

“It’s normal to miss your family, especially at this time of the year,” Frank told Oliver, a Haven resident. “However, I hope you know you’ve gained a family here in Brighton who will willingly choose to share the holidays with you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it, but sometimes I think back to before my parents kicked me out when the house was decorated, and Frosty the Snowman was playing on the television. Everyone was happy, and my sister circled all the toys she wanted Santa to bring her in all her catalogues. It was perfect.”

“Nostalgia is a strong emotion that gets even stronger around the holidays. Looking back, we sometimes romanticize the scenes that play out in our minds.”

Oliver sat quietly, and Frank appreciated that the young man was contemplating what he’d said. The holidays could bring out extreme emotions, good and bad, and his hope was to relieve some of the pain that typically came with the holiday season.

“I understand what you’re saying. If I sit back and look at the scene critically, I notice my parents arguing in the kitchen. Usually, it was about me. My problem.”

“Problem?”

“My gayness. My feminine energy. My constantly embarrassing my father and my mother attempting to calm him down.”

“That had to be difficult for you.”

“He always acted like I was doing it on purpose. He used to ask me if I hated them like this was some sort of revenge. Why I couldn’t be normal.”

“You are perfect the way you are,” Frank said, hoping Oliver believed him. “It hurts when someone who is supposed to love you no matter what can’t accept your authentic self. That being gay was some sort of payback for a wrong.”

“How can I miss people like that?”

“No matter what, they’re your family, and a part of you will always long for that connection.”

“Even if I don’t want to?”

“Yes. Even if you don’t want to. We form connections with the people with whom we spend the most time. Good and bad. All we can do is accept them for what they are and forge new connections. Healthier connections provide us with what we need and with people who value us for the person we are. It’s not easy, but every step you take in that direction brings you closer to your own happiness.”

“Do you think that one day it won’t hurt to think about them?” Oliver asked.

“Truthfully, the memories will always cause you some pain, but the severity will decrease until you get to the point where it’s only a passing thought. Your life will have grown to include people who cherish you, Oliver, just as you are.”

Frank wished he could tell him that someday he’d think about his parents and not be affected, but that would’ve been a lie. The one thing he swore he’d never do to his clients, no matter how much it would make things easier or give them temporary relief, was to lie or exaggerate. It wasn’t fair to set them up for disappointment. Too many people in their lives had already done that.

“Thanks for never lying to me, Mr. Rogers,” Oliver said. “I’ll see you next week.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good week.”

After the young man left, Frank couldn’t help but think about what it would have been like if his parents had cast him out for being gay. It wasn’t the first time he’d considered the repercussions of not having the support he’d received growing up.

When his thoughts inevitably turned to Jacob, it was unimaginable to think of turning his back on his son, no matter what. However, that happened daily to numerous kids worldwide. No matter how enlightened the human race became, the lack of tolerance and understanding would continue until the end of time.

***

Lee

“He’s going to love it,” Gabe said as Lee opened the box to show him what had recently been delivered.

“We have one, of course, but it’s pretty basic for when we were in college and then living in the apartment, but this year feels special, a turning point in how we’ll spend the season going forward. We were usually at his parents’ house during that period, so the one we had was collecting dust. I wanted to make it a combination of traditions.”

“When are you giving it to him?”

“Tonight, when I get home from work. Jacob helped me with the design for Travis to create.”

Travis was Police Chief Bo Mason’s partner, and one hell of an artist in many different mediums. He could paint, carve, sculpt, chisel, you name it, and the guy could create a masterpiece out of it.

“That little shop Travis has in town has been extremely popular since it opened. Johnny has had a few things made by Travis.”

“You only have to give the guy a rough idea of what you want, and it’s like he reads your mind or something. I never dreamed it would come out so well,” Lee said. “Hey, have you heard more from Dante about the arsonist?”

It had been three weeks since the last intentionally set fire, and everyone was on the lookout for the arsonist’s next target. Of course, the firehouse had had other calls for service, but all of them had been accidental or weather-related.

“Yeah. At the scene of the last fire, the fire marshal determined that the accelerant used matched the previous fires. While typically fuel wouldn’t be so helpful, this time it is because it’s jet fuel, not plain gasoline, which you can get at any filling station. There are only so many places where you can find jet fuel in a two-hundred-mile radius of Brighton, and most have security cameras.”

“Finally, we caught a break. So your father and the Sentinels are closing in on this crazy bastard.” That was a relief to hear.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Gabe assured.

“That’s great news. Hopefully, they catch him before Christmas. I still can’t believe next week is December first. I’m still full from Thanksgiving. Where has the time gone?”

“I feel ya. Johnny went straight into Christmas mode the day after Thanksgiving. Lucy’s already made her letter to Santa because she doesn’t want it to get lost in the mail.”

Lee noticed Gabe couldn’t help but smile when talking about his family.

“The White Hair Crew loves replying to all the kids’ letters. Grandma Rose would be proud that the tradition continued after she and Grandma Graham passed. Between the three remaining ladies, your mom and aunts, no kid will go without a reply from Santa and a gift at the annual festival.”

Gabe smiled even wider, and Lee figured it was because of the thoughts of Grandma Rose. The lady was one of a kind, had been loved fiercely, and took people under her wing regularly. She held the heart of Brighton for ninety-four years and was irreplaceable. She’d passed away in her sleep, not slowing a single day beforehand, and her funeral brought in not only the entire town, but people from far and wide whose lives she’d touched. Johnny’s brother, Saint, had flown in from Los Angeles along with former community members who had moved away.

“I’m sure she’s looking down on us, keeping an eye on everybody, making sure everything keeps ticking along,” Gabe said.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Lee agreed. “Okay, I better get home for dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night,” Gabe said before turning and heading toward his truck.

It took him less than fifteen minutes to drive home, even after stopping at the grocery store for milk and bread. The smell of garlic and onions greeted him and made his mouth water when he walked through the front door.

“Spaghetti night,” Lee cheered. He loved spaghetti night.

“You, sir, are correct,” Frank joked as Lee entered the kitchen.

Frank was standing at the stove and Jacob was doing his homework at the kitchen island. Lee set the groceries on the counter and the box containing his surprise on the kitchen island before walking up behind Frank and kissing his neck.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” he asked.

“Good. You?”

“Nothing exciting happened, which is great. How about you, kid, how was school?”

“Good, but I’ve got so much homework. What’s in the box?” Jacob asked.

“It’s that special something we made for your Pop,” Lee said, eliciting a wide smile from their son.

“Pop, open it. It’s a surprise.”

Frank turned from the stove with a questioning look. “For me? What did you guys get me?”

“You’re going to have to open the box to find out,” Lee said, and Jacob bounced up and down in his chair.

“Open it,” Jacob shouted.

Frank wiped his hands on the dishcloth he’d thrown over his shoulder and opened the top of the box. Lee hoped the shocked expression on his face was a good sign or the night was going downhill fast.

“We had it made for you, Pop. Do you like it?”

Frank reached in and lifted the hand-carved Hanukkah menorah from its nest of bubble wrap. The nine intricately carved branches of the candlesticks. Eight for the eight nights of Hanukkah, and the elevated ninth to hold the candle that lights all the other candles on each evening of Hanukkah. It marks the significance of the miracle of oil that kept the fire burning in Jerusalem’s Holy Temple for eight nights.

“It’s stunning,” Frank said, and Lee could see the tears welling in his eyes. “You two had this made for me?”

Jacob jumped down from his chair and ran over to hug his Pop before saying, “It’s for our family traditions.”

Each stem of the candelabra twisted like a rope upward and into the small carved bowl that held each of the nine candles. The base was wide and sturdy, like a tree holding out its branches, and each of their names was engraved on the base.

“It’s to symbolize the branches of our strong family. We wanted you to have something made especially for you and our family. I respect your Jewish ancestry and want it to flourish in this home. Hanukkah is a celebration of a miracle, and you two are my miracle.”

Frank couldn’t hold back any longer as he set the Hanukkah menorah on the table and gathered Jacob and Lee into his arms.

“It’s perfect, exactly like my family. Thank you. I will prize this for the rest of my life.”