Brad

The next day, I woke up earlier than I'd expected. Where was I? I looked around the room. I was sure I'd never been there before. I slid off the bed and walked around a moment trying to remember the night before. I was still fully dressed the so the night before couldn't have been that entertaining. I remembered going over to Matt's. I remembered the trek through the woods, the starry sky, then I remembered sitting on the couch and that was it. What happened after that? Was I still at Matt's? My cell phone was on the bedside table. I had four voice messages from my mother checking to make sure I was all right. The last one she said Matt had called and told her that I had fallen asleep on the couch and that I was safely tucked away in a guest bedroom. Well, that answered that question. I went over and opened the door. I was upstairs, just a few doors down from Matt's room. I tip-toed down to his room and peeked in. He wasn't there. I looked around. I couldn't hear a shower running. Where the heck was he? I heard sounds coming from downstairs. I tromped down there and found Matt in the kitchen. He was right; he was a whiz-bang at cooking. He already had made a full breakfast and was sitting at the table.

"Good morning. Was wondering how long I'd have to sit here."

I was confused. It was freaking early but Matt was bathed, fully dressed and sitting at the table with a National Geographic.

"Are you going to sit?" He smiled and motioned to a chair. I sat. "Eat."

I picked up a plate of scrambled eggs and piled some on my plate. Then came the grits, sausage. Being a true southerner, I put all the ingredients together and swirled them together with a little salt and pepper. Matt sat quietly watching me assemble my culinary creation. If he got any more beautiful, I wouldn't be able to stand him anymore. Once I was finished, I ate.

I looked over at him, he was busy readying something. For some unknown reason, I remembered that day in the parking lot when he slapped me and I kicked the shit of out him and left him in a vacant space. That seemed like such an eternity ago, but it wasn't very long. Now he sat before me calmly, placidly. Was it because his plot to take me away from Brad had worked? Was it because he truly did love me? Was he capable of love? Was I? I decided that if I thought about it anymore, I'd scream- so I resolved not to think about it anymore.

"What's today?" I asked.

"Saturday."

"What are we going to do?"

He just smiled. Not the toothy smile, just a sweet, warm smile. I kept eating.

"What's there to do in this part of town?"

"This part of town? What are you talking about? You live 3 miles from here."

He put down the National Geo and filled his empty plate.

"After last night, I'm sure you're full of surprises."

He smiled again. "I am."

We sat quietly for a few minutes as we both ate. After I finished, I just kept looking at him. He stopped eating and returned my gaze.

"So," I sat back, "where are we going?"

"I talked to your Mom on the phone last night."

"What did she say?"

"She's worried about us."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know."

I knew he was lying.

"Well," he kept going, "she's afraid we're going to get in over our heads."

"Haven't we already?"

"Not really. She's afraid someone might try to hurt us if we get found out."

"That's why we're not going to get found out."

"Well..."

My face froze. "What do you mean?"

He just sat there quietly.

"What have you done?" I asked.

"A couple days ago, in the showers for baseball, someone asked me about why you came to practice that afternoon. I couldn't help but blush. I also got a little hard. Not all the way, but enough. The guys though that was funny and so now they think I'm gay."

"Just for that?"

"No, that's not the only reason, but that's all you need to know."

"No it isn't."

"I shouldn't have said anything."

"But you did."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But guess what?"

"What?"

"I also talked to your Dad last night."

"That's not a good thing."

"It was. We had a nice, long chat. In fact, he wants to get to know me better. So, your folks are coming over here and we're all going to the beach."

"But it's March."

"I know, but it's unusually warm for this time of year. Apparently, according to your Dad, it's supposed to get up to like eighty today and tomorrow. The water'll be ass cold, but we can at least play some putt-putt and stick our feet in the sand."

This was the mother lode of all terrible ideas in my opinion. But, Matt seemed to be eager. I heard crunching on the driveway. I slinked over to the window and peered out. Our white grand caravan was pulling up behind my truck. The side door came open and so did my mouth. My dad was driving and my mom was up front. Then out of the side appeared my sister, not unexpectedly, but then so did Grandma, Nanny, and Pop. Oh God. How much did they know? Grandma is my Dad's mother and Nanny and Pop are my mother's parents. Their names, should you care to know: Madeline Gerrish, Frances and Scott Matthews. All three of them are healthy and live independently, they've been good friends and next door neighbors since the late 1960's. (That's what happens when your mother marries the boy next door.) Welcome to the south. Anyway, Nanny and Pop own a house on Tybee Island and that's where our family always goes to the beach. So, I'm betting that's our destination for today.

"Matt? Why are my grandparents in your backyard?"

"They're coming with us."

"Do they know about us?"

"They will."

"Fuck no they won't."

I looked back out the window. Pop was up the steps and walking towards the door bell. Matt opened the door just has Pop stuck out his fingers.

"Good morning, Mr. Matthews." Matt shook his hand.

"Good morning to you... Mr..."

"McConnelly, Matthew McConnelly."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine, please come in."

"We need to get going. If we leave now, we can be there in time for lunch."

"I need to clean up from breakfast." Matt said. He introduced himself to my grandmothers and they sat in the living room. I looked over at them. They were preparing to sit on the couch. I couldn't help but think about what Matt and I had done on that couch and now my adorable, never said an unkind word grandmothers were about to sit on it.

Ever the consummate gentleman, Matt said, "Can I offer you something to eat?"

"We're fine." Grandma called out, "Can we help you clean up?"

"Nah, I'm fine...thanks though."

Pop came over to the kitchen to see what we were up to. He sat on a barstool and watched us. Pop was the stable male influence in my life. He was as much a father figure as my actual Dad. He had spent his career as an accountant for a state run school for mentally challenged kids.

"What's going on?" Pop asked.

"Just cleaning up." I said. I knew that wasn't really the question.

"Your grandmothers don't know, but your Dad told me the...um...situation."

"He did." It was more a statement than a question.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. That's one of the reasons I insisted we come. You parents didn't want us here, but I wanted to meet you and mother hasn't let me out of her sight in 62 years of marriage so they were coming or else."

"Why didn't you tell them?" Matt asked.

"It's none of my business. If you want them to know, you'll have to do the telling. Give Frances and Matt some slack. (Matt is Grandma's nickname, short for Madeline. Ironic isn't it?) They probably will cry at first, but they'll eventually come to understand and I don't think it will hurt them too much in the long run."

"But, I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to hurt anyone." I said.

"I know you don't. But you're going to hurt people in your life. It's just the way the world works. It's a shitty deal, but that's life. And so, you might as well practice on those who love you and aren't going to abandon you."

That sounded a bit twisted, but nonetheless it made sense.

"Aren't you ready yet?" My dad barked from the back door.

We had just finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on. We were ready. Pop drove the van, my parents and I rode with Matt in his car. My Dad sat up front with Matt and my Mom and I sat in the backseat. I had driven and ridden down I-75 and I-16 many times; but, the familiar place names, Griffin, Macon, Swainsboro, Statesboro and finally Savannah seemed weird and somehow foreign through the back window of Matt's Audi with my mother at my side, my dad in front and my lover behind the wheel. We rode in silence most of the way, but we did talk occasionally. Like Matt said, they were both really worried that something might happen to us if people were to find out that we were a gay couple. I can't really fault them for it; they've got an excellent point. It is a dangerous world out there in general. From their comments, they're just afraid that I'll end up tied to a fence post somewhere. Sure that happened in Wyoming, but that sort of thing could just as easily happen here. As many African Americans that have been lynched in the great state of Georgia, I'd shudder to think what they'd do to gays. Getting hurt is a fear that my parents and I have in common. Matt didn't seem to be too concerned about it, though. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at our destination. We unloaded the vehicles and went inside, while we were getting things put together, Nanny and Grandma started making sandwiches for lunch. After lunch, my grandparents were sitting out on the deck; my parents were in the living room. Matt and I were standing on the edge of the deck looking out over the sand dunes to the Atlantic beyond.

"Mhm." Grandma said.

Matt and I turned around to see what was going on.

"What's wrong Mrs. Gerrish?" Matt asked, walking over toward her. Her eyes were on him and she was slowly shaking her head.

"Nothing." She said, averting her eyes.

"Just say it." Pop said, sipping his diet coke.

"It's just a tragedy, that's all."

"What do you mean?" Matt asked, sitting in the chair next to her.

"I know I may be fat, old, and lazy, but I know a good thing when I see one. You've got a responsibility, you know."

"What sort of responsibility?" Matt sounded genuinely interested in her response.

"To hear Andy and his folks talk about you, you're smart, funny, talented, gorgeous, there needs to be more people like you in the world. And the same goes for Andy, but as long as you're together, that can't happen."

How did she know? She wasn't supposed to know about us...not yet anyway.

She continued, "Most any decent girl and most indecent ones too who are looking for men, would be falling all over themselves to get either of you. It's just a shame that they can't succeed."

"Why is having a child a mark of success?" I asked.

"It isn't, but eventually you'll be old and crotchety and it's nice to have a son or daughter to talk about and to get to do things for you. I'm just sad that you're going to miss out on that. And then there's the crown jewel of life...grandchildren."

"Crown jewel?" Matt asked.

She smiled and patted my hand. "A few weeks ago, a few friends of mine were talking about stuff. The question was asked, `if there was going to be a huge disaster and the government was going to assemble people to hide and carry on after the danger passed and you were asked to send someone, who would it be. It could have been anyone I know." She started to tear up, "Do you know who I picked?"

"No." I said- but I could probably guess.

Matt just looked confused.

"You."

I was stunned. "Why?"

"Because you are the most amazing person I've ever met. You can do anything and everything. You're brilliant, beautiful, loving..." She was at a loss for words and so was I. Nanny and Pop were looking at us, not curiously, but concerned.

She kept talking, "You were my first grandchild. I remember the day your dad called me and said they were going to the hospital. It was 3:30 am on Wednesday, April 23, 1980- I will never forget that date. I got dressed and beat them to the hospital. Scott, Frances, Emmett, and I sat in the waiting room of that hospital. (Emmett was my other grandfather who had passed away.) We were scared to death that she was going to die. Your mother's been diabetic since she was a teenager. She wasn't supposed to have children. You, sir, are the reason I still can't watch `Steel Magnolias' all the way through. That was the story of our family when you were born. Not only were we there, but your aunts, most of my siblings, they all took the day off because you were being born. The nurse said that they had a lot of women come in to give birth whom don't have anybody waiting for them. They said it broke their hearts to bring a baby into the world and no one care enough to be there to greet it. You see, Andy, most people don't have anyone when they came into the world or they only had one or two people. When it was your turn to come into the world, it was standing room only."

I just sat there...there was nothing I could say in response to that. I think I may have even had a tear in my eye by the time she finished. Matt was clearly as dumbstruck as I was. I looked over at Nanny and Pop. They had been listening intently.

"It's true." Nanny said. "Your mother miscarried twice before she got pregnant with you. You are our miracle baby."

"But what about my sister?" I asked.

"They haven't told you?"

"Told me what?"

All three grandparents sat in their respective deck chairs and stared at me.

"Your sister is adopted. You're their only natural child." Pop blurted out- secret keeping under pressure was not one of his strong points.

I was stunned. I often wondered why my sister and I look nothing alike. I looked back and forth between the three elderly, tearful faces.

"Why are you telling me this?" I demanded.

"Don't you see?" Grandma sounded desperate.

I just slowly shook my head.

"My other son has no children, my daughter changed her name when she married. You are my other son's only son. So, if you don't have kids, the family will end with you. You are the Gerrish family miracle child. Don't you feel you have a responsibility to share that miracle with someone else for future generations?"

I'd never really thought of that before. Geez being gay can sure complicate the hell out of life.

"I need to go." I said and ran off the porch onto the sand and disappeared over the dune. Matt decided not to follow. I went down to the edge of the water and looked out over the vast Atlantic. How could something as private as sexual orientation totally fuck up so many people's lives? It went from me wanted to have sex with another guy to my grandmother's tearful plea not to let the family die. How could those two things possibly be related? I let the icy waters of the ocean wash over my bare feet, wetting the bottom of my black jeans. I couldn't shake what she'd told me. She was technically right, I knew that. The last thing I wanted to do was to fail or disappoint her. My father being upset I could handle, after all, practice makes perfect, but Grandma was a different story. I can't stand to see anyone cry, but old people especially tear me up inside when they cry. Grandma lived near us and she had always been the one I'd go too to vent about my life because she'd vent right back about her's. She and I knew stuff about each other no one else knows. She meant more to me than anyone ever in the history of the world. And in typical Andrew Gerrish style, I hurt her and made her cry. DAMNDAMNDAMNDAMNDAMN. It would seem that her precious Andy was a fucking faggot. The worse thing a grandson could be. I was her ultimate disappointment. I had crushed the hopes of the one person whose opinion actually matters to me. I just flopped down on the frigid wet sand. I was filled with the memories of the fun and lunacy of a childhood full of lazy beach bumming at this little spot. I remembered family reunions. LTP's, which stands for Low Tide Picnics. Usually I loved coming here and sitting on the beach, but right now I wanted to be anywhere else on earth than Tybee Island, Georgia. I realized that there was someone standing behind me. I looked over my shoulder.

"Let's go for a walk." Matt said.

We walked quietly along the beach. There was no way I could possibly explain to Matt the utter turmoil and chaos that was running through my head at that moment. He seemed conflicted too. We walked along the vacant beachfront. Tybee Island is a residential island with very little commercial development so it has some fairly remote spots if you want to escape and know where to go. This time of year, the island is practically vacant. So, we went to an out of the way spot where we could be alone. I knew my folks would give us some time alone, and wouldn't come looking for us for at least a couple of hours. My heart was heavy and my mind clouded. I barely remember even walking to the little spot behind the sand dunes. Matt took my hand and turned toward me.

"Andrew........ I don't know what to say."

I just stared at the ground. "I don't either."

We both just stood there, the cool breeze cutting through the warm spring air, the sound of the waves crashing in the distance. I looked up and saw his eyes. They returned my gaze. I sense hesitancy in them. Their usual certainty and purpose, the confidence they normally had was replaced with a cloudy uncertainty. What was he uncertain about? He leaned forward. I felt the warmth of his lips touch mine. I returned his kiss, not with our usual fire and heat, but tenderly, gently. That felt incredible.

"Drew. There's enough room for all of you in y'all's van, so I think I'll just go back home and let you have some time alone with them." He stepped back and pulled away.

"Please don't." I pleaded.

"I can't keep doing this to you."

"Please don't leave me."

"I've got to."

"No! Please! Take me with you..."

He smiled. "I can't do that. Your place is here with them. I'm not getting involved anymore. You were right. I'm not the right one for you."

"I need you." My head was spinning and I thought I might get sick.

"No you don't. You never needed me. You don't need anyone, remember?"

"I do need you! Please!" I was the one pleading this time. If this was the way I made Brad feel, no wonder he hated me now.

He was backing away from me. He just hung his head, turned and walked away. I watched him disappear over the dune back onto the beach. I crashed onto the sand and just sat there. I was in shock so much I couldn't cry. I was angry, emotionally exhausted. I laid back, the warm sun beaming down on me. Slowly, I calmed down. The next thing I remember, it was shady. I looked up. There was a large beach umbrella shading me from the lowhanding sun. I was also lying on a towel. I looked around. I saw someone's back sitting on the edge of the dune. It was a woman in large floppy hat. She was wearing tan slacks and a blouse with flamingoes on it. I sat up. "Hello?"

Grandma turned around and smiled. "I wondered how long it would take."

"Where's Matt?"

Staring out over the water, she replied, "Gone. He came back to the house all pissed off- mainly at me. Apparently my little tirade was a mood breaker for him. Oh, well."

"He left?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Yep. But, it's okay- grandma's here now. You don't need those mean old boys anymore"- she said in a fake babyish voice. She turned back to face the ocean as I stood up.

"So, you brought all this out here?"

"When Matthew came back to the house and you didn't I figured you were still out here somewhere. So, I came looking. Scott actually brought the cooler. There's some drinks in it if you want one. I nearly had a heart attack though when I came over the dune and saw you sprawled out like that. I thought the son of a bitch had killed you."

"How long was I asleep?"

"I've been here about twenty minutes."

"He's gone?" I was still in shock.

She shook her head... "Boys."

"What are you thinking?" I was afraid to actually know.

"I'll be honest...I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid something'll happen to you. Something terrible. I know bad things will happen to you, but I don't know what I'd do if something really awful happened to you."

"Like what?"

"AIDS or some other disease." She responded immediately.

Now I was beginning to understand the problem a little better.

"Grandma, I'm fine."

"For now...but what about later? I...I..." She was tearing up again. "I don't know if I could take it if you died."

"But what'll I do when you die?"

"I'm old...that's what old people do, honey. But, you've barely gotten started good and you seem willing to throw it away like trash."

"Trash?"

"You and that boy...and apparently someone named Brad? How many others are there Andy? How many others will there be?"

"Matt's not trash." I sounded like I was trying to convince myself.

"The first sign of trouble and what'd he do? He ran like a scared little rat and left you out here all alone. Alone, Andrew. He found out there even might be trouble and he threw you away like a piece of garbage."

She was wrong. Grandma was never wrong...until now. I was so mad I could hardly stand it. I wasn't mad at her. I wasn't mad at Matt. I was pissed as hell at myself. A few weeks ago, my life was perfectly fine. I was a respected member of the SGA, I was reasonably popular, my life was right on track, college applications were in process. Now, at least in my own mind, my life had fallen fantastically to pieces. In some ways, I sincerely wanted to place the blame squarely on Brad and that idiotic note he passed me in biology; but, I can't because I had a decision to make too. For a while, I thought I'd made the right one, now I'm pretty sure I royally fucked up by going along with his plan. After what Brad and I went through, there was no way he'd ever let me emotionally near him again. I'd bruised him one too many times. After today, I don't think I could let Matt get near me again. So, here I was again, back at square one. I'd come full circle and slammed headlong into myself.

"Come on Andy, we need to head home, it's getting dark."

She stood up on the sand dune. I picked up the cooler and the umbrella and we started off. She was right, I hadn't even noticed, but the sun was setting behind the houses and scruffy trees. I looked out over the crashing waves of the Atlantic to the misty horizon beyond. What was beyond the horizon? I have no clue. I realized I'd never had a clue all along. This morning, I was eating breakfast in the home of the love of my life looking forward to a day full of adventure and romance. Now I was walking along the beach with a cooler and beach umbrella while being outpaced by an 80 year old woman wearing pink flamingoes and a big floppy hat. I guess life's funny that way.

I hope you have liked the story thus far, it is perhaps a bit more serious than you might expect, but oh well. It will continue to have its hot steamy moments that make you want to shoot and its attempted tear jerker moments as well. Once again, comments, criticism, and story suggestions are always appreciated.

~Drew.