“Mom says that you’ve found someone. A man.”
Jesse frowned. He hadn’t spoken to Nova or Tim about his
feelings for Christopher yet. They knew he was seeing someone—he’d made that
much plain when he asked for their help with the kids—but he hadn’t been
explicit about who or even what gender the person was. He hadn’t known how to
broach the topic, but…he supposed they’d heard from Brigid or Will, or possibly
Amanda. And they’d met Christopher that day at SMD. It’s not like he’d asked
the kids to keep it a secret or anything. Still, he hadn’t wanted the news
getting back to Ronnie. Talk about the potential of adding fuel to her fire.
“What of it?”
She shrugged. “Nothing really. I always thought you’d end up
with a man, actually. You loved Marcy, but you were wild for…well, wild for
male chickens.”
“Male chickens?”
“You know…”
“
Cock
? Wild for cock? Are you
fucking serious right now?”
Ronnie looked mildly disappointed in him for using curse
words but she just said, “My pastor says gay people are emotionally and
sexually addicted to sin. Sometimes it’s like they aren’t even themselves
without it.”
“You are treading a fine line right now.” He was rigid on the
edge of his chair, reminding himself that lunging across Marcy to throttle her
sister was not an option.
“But I don’t believe everything my pastor tells me, Jesse.
Mom says this guy makes you happy.”
He still couldn’t figure out what she was trying to gain by
being relatively reasonable. “If you plan to use this against me in the appeals
process, Ronnie, I swear to God that—”
“Shush now. I’m planning nothing of the sort.” She rubbed
her fingers over Marcy’s cheek and then smiled at him, a soft kindness lighting
her eyes. It gave him the heebie-jeebies. “Mom, Buddhist-leanings though she
has, reminded me that the spirit of Christ is demonstrated through the fruit a
person bears. I’m sure you’ve heard that? The fruit of the spirit?”
“Yes.”
“Happiness, hope, joy—these are all fruits of Christ’s work
in a person’s life. Despair, anger, and sadness are the harvest of the devil.”
Jesse gritted his teeth, determined to wait her out to see
where she was going with all of this.
“And that makes sense to me. More sense than Pastor’s
position. You’ve been in sadness, despair, and anger for a long time, Jesse. If
this man brings you joy, hope, and happiness, if he gives you the fruits of
Christ—well, who am I to judge? I’m a sinner too. We all are.”
“Yeah? What’s your sin?”
“I’m a human being, so I’ve got plenty of them. Where should
I start?”
“How about with being selfish? As in selfishly keeping your
sister’s body alive on machines and tubes for five years.”
“That cuts both ways. Maybe you’re selfish to want to disconnect
her. Maybe that’s just for your own peace of mine. If what
you
say is true—that she doesn’t have a mind or any consciousness—then it certainly
wouldn’t be for hers.”
“Bitch.” It was all he could come up with. He hadn’t come in
prepared for a run-in with Ronnie, and certainly not with a Ronnie who was
trying to pacify him.
Ronnie sighed. “I’m just asking you to examine your
motivations.”
“We have our mediation meetings for that.”
She shook her head, red hair glinting in the cool light
through the windows. She threaded her fingers through Marcy’s. “I’ve spent a
lot of time on my knees praying over you, Jesse, trying to understand why you’re
so angry with me. Why you mischaracterize my intentions and beliefs, but
mostly, why you fight so fiercely on what you see as her behalf. I’ve prayed
for God to reveal to me the truth, and even asked him to change my heart if it
was possible that you’re right.”
“And what did your prayers yield you, exactly?”
“As far as changing my directives about my sister’s care, I
still strongly, down deep in my heart and soul, believe that God will call her
home in his own way when he’s ready for her. I won’t have to do a single thing
to help Him if he wants her in his arms.”
Jesse shook his head. “He would have ‘called her home’ the
night of the accident if it wasn’t for medical intervention.”
Ronnie ignored him, her gaze thoughtfully focused on Marcy’s
face, a gentleness and love sliding over her features as she caressed Marcy’s
hair. “But I did feel another thing stirring in my soul when I prayed about
you, Jesse. I heard a sad thing in my heart—”
“Hearts don’t have ears.” He knew he was being petulant, but
couldn’t stop himself.
“When you’re listening for God, your heart has the biggest
ears of all. What my heart heard was that you desperately want to
deny
the truth.”
“You’re denying the truth, Ronnie, keeping her alive in
hopes of a miracle.”
“Miracles happen every day.”
“Not this kind of miracle. It’s impossible. Every doctor has
confirmed it. Every single specialist.”
“God’s limitless in his power. He’s not incapable of doing
this. But…I’ll concede it
is
an unlikely miracle.”
She smiled sadly, keeping her eyes on her sister.
“I’m not denying any truth. What? You think I’m denying your
God or something?”
“I can’t say where you stand with God. And actually, that’s
not what I meant at all. I meant that you’re denying that
you
can’t fix this
. This is bigger than you’re capable of handling. And by
this, I mean Marcy now, and Marcy back then, and your marriage, and all the
ways you feel like you failed her.”
His heart clenched and his breath caught.
“When Mom told me about your new boyfriend, the answers my
heart heard resonated even more. I realized that you want to fix it for Marcy—
all
of it. Now. The past. And you believe if you can get
me to let her go then you’ll have fixed all of that. You’ll be free of the
guilt you have for how much you hurt her, because you did hurt her, didn’t you
Jesse?”
She looked up, and her eyes were full of so much empathy and
love that it made Jesse’s stomach lurch into his throat. Part of him wanted to
throw himself on the floor and admit it. Yeah, he’d fucking hurt her and he’d
do
anything
—fight
anyone
—for
as long as it took to make it up to her.
Another part of him wanted to smack Ronnie into the next room
for daring to analyze him, and that’s the part that spat, “You’re fucking
insane.”
Ronnie’s expression flashed wounded and then sank back to
its peaceful, calm, loving status quo that grated over Jesse’s entire being
until he just couldn’t stand it. How could she be so
sure
?
And how dare she be
right
?
“So, you’re not really doing it for Marcy, Jesse. You’re
doing it for
you
. To relieve your conscience; to be
the husband she wanted you to be one final time. But by doing that you’re
denying the reality of how you hurt her before the accident, and the reality of
her current life in this bed, because you’re focused on
doing
instead of sitting back and
being
. So long as you’re
fighting me, you won’t be able to accept and deal with the true and
excruciating agony of what has happened to her and to you. And to your kids.”
“Don’t talk about my kids.” His voice trembled.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He needed to get her out of there.
Ronnie went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And then it’ll hit
you like a ton of bricks, honey, when it’s finally over—because no one lives
forever and she will eventually move on her way, with or without your struggle
to make it happen sooner.”
“Did your preacher help you come up with all those pretty
words? Think that’s going to stop me from filing the appeal? I know what Marcy
wanted. She didn’t want this.”
“Like I said, that’s what came to me when I was praying to
understand you better. God always gives what we need, Jesse. Just ask Him and
he’ll help you too.”
She stood, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got to
get to Milton’s parents’ in Townsend by three. They’re eager to see the kids.
If you want to file that appeal, go ahead and do it. We both know what the
legal outcome will be. It would be such a waste of energy, Jesse. And money.
Your money and my church’s money. It could go to such better things, like
helping the homeless, or to a battered women and children’s shelter. Or to a
suicide hotline for gay teens.”
“Oh, spare me. It could go to those things now if you didn’t
ask your church to pay your legal bills so you could continue to fight me.”
“But I’m not fighting you. You’re fighting
me
.” She kissed Marcy’s forehead and looked down at her. “Love
you, baby sis. I can still remember when I held you the day you were born. I
was in awe of your life then, and I’m in awe of your life now. You’re
beautiful. In the name of Christ Jesus, may your soul be blessed on this
Thanksgiving Day.”
She smiled tentatively at Jesse. “I don’t suppose you’d
allow a hug for the holiday?”
“Hell no.”
Ronnie nodded sadly. “Then Happy Thanksgiving, Jesse. I love
you. I hope one day we can be friends again like we used to be. May God’s peace
be with you.”
She walked out the door and called a goodbye to the nurses. Jesse
collapsed against Marcy’s bed, pressing his nose to the crook of her arm,
searching for her scent, tears in his eyes and anger burning in his heart.
“C
HRISTOPHER’S
GOT A BOYFRIEND.” LEE
threw the words out in the middle of dinner like a
hand grenade and sat there with a smirk on his face, waiting to see just how
big the explosion would be.
How the kid had discovered the info wasn’t hard to guess.
Joe must have told Jackie when they were washing their hands together in the
guest bathroom sink before sitting down at the dining room table for dinner.
It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that Christopher’s
mom, Bob, and Gran were all staring at him, each with completely different
expressions on their faces. To his shame, he knew if he had something on
Jackie, some horrible wrong-doing like when they were kids, he’d toss it out
right now and try to get away from this shit. But as far as he knew, she was
shiny clean and good, and he was going to go down alone.
Joe busied himself with a second helping of turkey. “Can
someone pass the gravy? And the rolls. I’d like more rolls.”
“Shh, Joe,” Jackie said, slapping his hand and turning
nervous eyes on Christopher. “Is this true?”
Huh. Apparently Joe hadn’t told Jackie after all. That left
Gran as the source of Lee’s intel. Christopher sent her a glare, but her
gleeful expression just grew even more delighted. Her eyes darted between
Jackie, Bob, and Sammie Mae with more interest than Lee’s.
“What’s this?” Bob asked, his voice low and quiet. It was
the tone he usually used right before he started railing and praying and
pleading for Jesus to mend Christopher’s wicked soul. Immediately Christopher’s
hackles went up, and he could see that Jackie also bristled.
“Yep, it’s true. I’ve got a boyfriend,” Christopher said,
nonchalantly, like it wasn’t the most wonderful thing in his life. “Um, more
green bean casserole please?”
“Because he’s gay,” Lee added. “As in ‘Christopher loves
other dudes.’”
The little ones stared at Christopher like he was suddenly
super-fascinating, and not just because if they begged him, he’d let them ride
him like a horse.
“Wait, you want to kiss
boys
and
stuff?” Aaron asked, his tiny elfin face creased. “Are you allowed to do that?”
“No!” Bob barked. “No, you are
not
allowed to do that.”
Joe nudged Aaron with his elbow and said, “S’okay with me if
you do.”
Bob’s sputter of outrage was only overshadowed by Gran’s
giggle.
“I actually
am
allowed to do
that, Aaron. Yes. It’s not illegal in any state in the Union.” Other countries?
Well, he’d skip that little civics lesson for now.
“It is illegal by God’s law!” Bob countered, slapping his
pudgy hand on the table.
“His name’s Jesse Birch,” Gran chirped, a wicked grin
curling on her face, and her eyes flashing over to Bob with hateful joy. “Heir
to Birch’s Biscuits & Bakeries. Rich as
sin
.
Handsome as a
devil
. And successful too.”
“Gran,
no
,” Christopher
whispered.
“Congrats, bro. Booyah.” Joe put his fist up for Christopher
to bump.
Christopher shook his head at Joe. Not the time. Not even
close to the time. So Joe bumped fists with Lee instead and went back to his
food, shoveling it in like he suspected he might not get his fill if he didn’t
hurry.
“Wait a minute. What’s this?” Sammie Mae echoed, her voice
quavering. “You talked to your Gran about this… this…man you’re
friendly
with, but you’ve been keeping it a secret from
your own mother?”