A Merry Marry Christmas Page 11
Jon tries another joke, "Then for sure you’re a dyke."
Claire gives Jon a hug and continues with a nervous laugh. "Loving a man as much as I love your father can be very difficult."
Now Marie is Daddy's girl. "And you've been trying so hard. You guys getting a divorce?"
Claire looks down, dejected. "I don’t know for sure yet. We need a little more time. But we'll be living separately. And I suppose we'll probably divorce in time. I'm sorry."
Marie pushes. "Is it a younger woman?"
Claire snaps. "No, but thanks for asking. You always know exactly what to say." Claire reaches out and tweaks Marie's nose tenderly. "I love your father and he loves me. Sometimes you need more for a marriage to really work."
Marie won't give up and shoots Claire an accusing glare. "Is it another man?"
Claire is uncomfortable now. "Not really."
Luke chimes in. "Not really?" Luke is mad again. "Then what's going on? Is Dad fucking around? If he’s hurt you we’ll beat the shit…"
Jon pushes his brother. "We? Count me out on felony assault, Lucifer."
Marie interrupts. "He said we, wimp. I’m with Luke.”
Claire screams, "Could we cut the drama here?"
Marie screams back, "Then tell us what’s happened!"
Claire calms a little. "Your father had a special friend before we married. I saw your dad and went after him–I split them up. You can count the months Marie. I was pregnant when we got married. Your dad has always been principled."
Marie sneers. "Principled–that's an SAT word for Wimp."
Claire smiles sadly. “Well, Dad’s back with his special friend."
Luke stands and paces. "Special friend? Like a unicorn? Get real! Could you just tell us what the fuck is going on?"
Claire reaches into her purse and takes out her wallet. Claire, Tony and Bill are playing the piano. Tony sits in the middle. All three are grinning broadly. Claire hands the picture to Marie and the boys crowd her for a look. "Your father and Bill–20 years ago."
Luke jumps up and shouts out loud, "Another man? Dad’s a fudge packer?"
Jon is calmer. "Since he’s our father, I think that makes him bi-sexual."
Luke slams Jon. "Stop. Shut up. That's our father you're talking about."
Claire tries to calm the trio. "We have to talk about this some time. Now’s as good a time as any."
Luke shouts louder, "No fucking way."
Claire sits alone in the commotion. Tears are running down her face. Meryl steps in. "You need to get past this–all of you. We aren't living in the dark ages."
Jon tries his best to make a joke. "Meryl's right. At least he's not Black and gay," Jon studies the picture and hugs Claire, "So what's his name? What do we call this guy?"
Luke answers before Claire can. "A fudge-packer."
Marie slaps Luke. "Shut up Lucifer." Marie actually touches Claire tenderly. "Mom, tell us about Dad's–friend–what’s his name?"
Claire fingers the old picture. "We were in law school together. I knew him as Bill. Now he goes by Liam for some reason. That's Gaelic for William."
Luke sneers. "Something a faggot would do. Change names, cross dress."
Jon starts to deal with it. "Guess we’ll learn a lot of Gaelic."
Claire has had it. She stands up and screams. "Are you boys done being fucking assholes?"
Jon backs away. "Whoa, the other shoe just dropped."
Claire gives Jon a tired look. "What do you mean by that?"
"You’re a sailor in drag. You swore! And you're very good at swearing I'll have to say." Jon gives his mother a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. She hugs him back.
Marie studies the picture. "Bill–Liam, whatever’s his name. He’s a fox. What would he want with our father?"
Jon lives on jokes. "I’d guess he likes to fox him."
Claire fights hard to suppress a tiny grin." Jon, just shut up. Liam’s a very successful Manhattan attorney and a psychiatrist."
Luke moans, "Great, a certified lunatic ruins our lives."
Meryl wags a finger. "Remember the bouncer story. Your mom boxed in the Navy."
Jon smiles. "A joke. A good joke. We need more good jokes today, right now."
Claire almost smiles and continues. "We were in the same year at Yale. They were living together. If you want to blame someone for this, blame me for breaking them up."
Marie interrupts as usual. "Wait, you married Dad knowing he was gay? How dumb are you?" Marie just shakes her head.
Claire continues, ashamed now. "Actually, I never really knew. Not for sure. Your father’s not what you think of when you imagine a stereotypical gay man, if there is such a thing. Neither is Liam. They’re both regular guys, just smarter. I’ve never met anyone brighter than Liam. And, by the way, Liam or Bill, was on the Olympic water polo team. In case that detail matters to you."
Luke thinks aloud. "A faggot in the Olympics, in the olden days. No way. Is that a joke?"
Claire shakes her head 'no'.
Luke thinks aloud again. "A shrink and a lawyer. Major bucks. Dad is trading up in a perverted way."
Meryl looks hard at Luke. "So again it’s all about the bucks?"
Luke defends. "No," then he waffles, "not really. I’m trying to find something positive here. Are we moving to New York?"
Claire does her best to answer. "You’ll stay put with your dad until you finish high school. I guess Liam will move here. We're still trying to figure things out. I’ll visit. That’s all I know. Luke, have some more eggs."
Luke rages in response. "Have some eggs. And by the way, your father sucks dick. Does Dad take it up the ass too? Is that why he was such a pussy to you?"
Meryl shows she works out and grabs Luke by the collar of his shirt. "Stop before you say anything you’ll regret later. That is, if you have a conscience at all. Your parents are separating. Half of all California marriages end in divorce. Deal with it. And grow the hell up."
Marie speaks for the three of them. "Divorce we can handle. This other-man stuffs going to be a bitch. What do I tell my friends?"
Jon puts Marie down. "You’re just pissed because Liam’s a fox. Even our dorky Dad can get laid and you can’t. It’s not about you, Marie. Half the kids at school have gay or bi parents…"
Meryl is surprised. "Half?"
Jon thinks a bit. "Maybe. At least 30%–it is San Francisco. But it's still not going to be easy. And I’m still pissed. When do we meet our “Uncle Liam?"
"Liam’s flying in with your Dad tonight. You’ll meet him soon."
Luke is afraid, and gets mean again. "At a leather bar? Can’t the meeting wait?"
Claire is back to being in charge. "Sometimes it’s just better to get everything done and over. Besides, I know you'll like him. I always did. He’s brilliant and kind–and an incredible water polo player."
Jon's joke comes next. "Yeah Lucifer, relax. I'll bet Liam can show you a lot about ball handling."
Luke buries his head in his hands. "Can we take tomorrow off school? This is going to be as emotional as hell. I don't know if I can take it."
Marie stirs the pot. "Nice try Luke,” she turns to her mother. "I heard being gay is hereditary."
Jon pipes in. "If being gay is hereditary then what else did I inherit? Will I be a deal-maker like you, Mom?"
Claire can tell when she's being played. "What're you saying, Jon?"
"I’m saying let's make a deal. Maybe we can bargain here. We don’t want this to degenerate into name-calling–like Meryl said. So, maybe we can negotiate a truce."
Claire seems open to the idea. "What sort of deal?"
"You buy Luke and me Jeeps with your raise and we promise not to ask Dad who pitches and who catches–Capiche? No embarrassing questions. We’ll be as civilized as our generation can be."
Marie snorts. "That's your mafia gene at work. Paying for peace–a protection racket."
Luke smiles at last. "Mom, I’m cool with all this for a
Jeep. You still rule since you make the big bucks–you can spend them however you want."
Claire turns to Marie–"Are you in?"
Marie gripes. "What’s in it for me? I already have a Jeep."
Claire gives it back to her. “Yes, you already have a Jeep. We'll pay to get your whiskey bumps fixed and I’ll forgive and forget the DUI–your bribe is you get to live on campus."
Marie wants more. "That's my right. How about you throw in a rack?"
Claire is confused. "A rack?"
Meryl laughs out loud. "She means breast implants, dear."
Claire laughs back. "Oh–Marie, you’re teasing."
Marie snarls. "Like hell I'm teasing. A rack costs the same as a Jeep."
Claire reaches out for Marie's hand. "You have a beautiful figure Marie, and you know it. Breast implants don't look natural and would make you look like a bimbo."
Marie is confused. "What's a bimbo?"
Jon answers. "A bimbo is a 19 year old woman with big boobs who doesn't know what the word bimbo means."
Claire almost smiles. "Come visit me in Vegas–anytime. We'll find some showgirls with bad backs; you can talk to them and decide then for yourself."
"Vegas. Cool! Alright. I'll settle. I hear Las Vegas rocks."
Claire rolls her eyes. "As long as I’m a divorce lawyer, I may as well practice in Mecca."
Marie is confused again. "Mecca, is that in Nevada too? Can I visit?"
Claire can't help but laugh at the kids. "Yes. You can visit. You can all visit. I’d ask you to come to Vegas for college but you’re safer with your Dad."
Marie sneers. "With our gay Dads. We still don’t have a deal here. I’m not getting anything tangible in return for settling. Don’t I need some sort of consideration to seal this."
Meryl laughs at the logic and gives Marie a kiss on the forehead. “Brilliant, Marie. What can we do for you?”
At that moment Marie eyes are those of an adorable child. “I’ve always wanted a kitty.”
“Seriously?” Claire was stunned. “Of course you can have a kitten if you want one. You’ve never mentioned wanting a cat before. Why now?”
“Because I’ll miss you, Mommy.”
Claire hugs Marie hard and lets her feel her love for a very long minute. The boys give the girls quick, manly squeezes.”
“Alrighty, then. Let’s get this done.” Jon moves in to close. "Marie is on board for a kitten. No more gay jokes from any of us. You still coming through with the Jeeps, Mom?"
Claire turns to Meryl. "What do you think, Meryl? Is there enough for two more Jeeps? Should I give in to this blackmail?"
Meryl answers kindly. "I think you’ll be fine."
Marie eyes Meryl suspiciously. "Why’re you asking her? You two aren’t…"
Claire is embarrassed. "Meryl negotiated the sale of Walker, Lyon. You know that her father founded the firm. Meryl has just been watching out for me–for us. I needed that."
Marie eyes Meryl suspiciously and administers a warning. "Any more mid-life craziness will cost you–big time!"
CHAPTER 27
Morrelli Home
A few months later, five Jeeps and a Porsche Cayenne crowd the Morrelli driveway. Jazz soothes as Tony and Liam work together at the range. Meryl, Anthony, Sean and Dick play a noisy game of cards nearby. Toddler and Rod cuddle with Buddy and play with Marie’s kitten, Lassie. Marie, Jon and Luke bicker while setting the table for dinner.
Jon asks the question on everybody's mind. "So, now that the divorce is final, Dad, will you two dudes be getting hitched?"
Luke interjects, "You looking to be a bridesmaid?"
Marie reaches out and whacks him. "That's my job."
Tony rolls his eyes. "I don’t know."
Liam studies Tony’s face intently and stops stirring the sauce. "What don’t you know, Dude? He grins at Tony’s new term of endearment.
Tony defends. "We haven’t really talked about it."
Liam pushes. "Some things you don’t need to discuss."
Marie lectures. "An honorable man wouldn’t live in sin in front of his children, Dad."
Tony grins at the approval buried in her reprimand. "You live on campus. The boys will be out of the house in a few months. Who cares about what goes on in an empty nest?" Tony nudges Liam gently.
Marie corrects him. "Actually, you have to get married, Dad. Again."
Tony gives Liam an amused grin. "You know something I don’t?” he turns back to his daughter. ”You haven’t mentioned this before, Marie. Why the sudden interest?"
Marie rolls her eyes and starts to lecture. "Times have changed–Daddies–and not for the better. We’re in the middle of a culture war. People have backed themselves into corners and minds have narrowed. You’d better get hitched quick–before the Supremes swerve hard right and take away your right to marry.”
Tony takes a long, loving look at Marie and understands the concern he sees in her eyes. “Those damned confirmation hearings showed us just how ugly even the Supreme Court can be. What used to be a civilized assembly of non-partisan legal scholars has become a forum for biased and vindictive blood-sport. Special interest groups and their Commander-in-Chief are playing dirty–someone needs to set a more civilized tone for the future.”
“Exactly!” Marie jumps up and kisses her father. “And that sainted someone is you–actually, both of you.” Liam grins and plants a kiss on Tony’s other cheek. “Women were quick to see a threat to Roe v. Wade during those hearings. We swung into action during the mid-terms because we’re realists. LGBT groups need to wake up fast! A more conservative court will threaten marriage equality too–and it could happen in a heartbeat. Look how fast Goldfinger ripped the blindfold off Lady Liberty.”
“I think they call her Lady Justice,” Jon corrects.
“Shut up. You know what I mean. Let me finish,” Marie gets back on her soapbox. “Catholic and Protestant evangelicals are working together now. Conservative Christians and conservative Jews have even united around a common platform: opposition to abortion, gay marriage and political liberalism. They’re determined to control women’s bodies and the lifestyle choices of all of us. They’re organized, flush with cash, and their lobbyists are working 24/7. We need to get ready for their assault.”
Liam turns off the range to focus on the conversation. “I recorded and studied every minute of those sickening hearings. That choirboy scared the hell out of me. I could tell by his spoken answers and his body language that the slippery shyster was avoiding a commitment on upholding Roe vs. Wade. When asked directly if it was settled law, he waffled forever about legal precedents instead of giving an honest and direct response. His demeanor told me he’ll do anything he can to overturn Roe.”
“Even though polls show that 70% of Americans want the Supremes to keep Roe as it is,” Marie shakes her head in dismay.
“The point is that Goldfinger’s supporters are that 30%–the social conservatives. And they don’t mind pushing the majority around to get their way,” Liam stops to catch a breath.
Meryl keeps the conversation moving along, “I feel sorry for him–being anti-choice seems irrational to me, and not just because 70% of the population wants the decision to remain. The choirboy seems to have been a latch-key teen while his folks apparently focused on their careers. Looks like those Jesuits at school brainwashed him–stunted his intellectual growth and convinced him that the America of 1950 should be maintained forever. American public opinion has matured in the last 70 years, Choirboy is stuck in the past with his parents. And since 6 of the 9 justices are now–or were raised Catholics–Roe is in danger.”
Anthony steps over to Meryl to top off her glass. “You need some more wine. I like you better when you get feisty.”
Meryl continues, “I believe he’s damaged goods–entitled by his position and lacking the ability to empathize or compromise. He also knows that there’s a fortune to be made giving lectures and pandering to that evangelical 30%. I read somewhe
re that he had to put his wedding costs on his credit cards; he knows the price of climbing the social ladder. I don’t know how he’ll be able to live on the salary they pay Supreme Court justices–not with kids in college. He has expensive tastes and I worry that he’ll be influenced by the highest bidder.”
Jon shows that he’s following along. “How’d he run up something like $200 grand in credit card debt for stuff like baseball tickets, Dad?”
Tony laughs. “Don’t ask me. We can’t afford season tickets on my salary.”
“But you probably make about what Choirboy makes. And you both have mortgages and private school bills. You geeks both drive Jeeps. Since Mom probably makes ten times more than his little wifey does, I need to ask, Dad. How come the choir boy can live so large and we can’t?”
“Beats me,” Tony replies the crazy question, “we don’t owe anybody anything.”
“I guess you have Jon’s answer right there,” Liam concludes cryptically.
“Hold on, back up. What choirboy are we talking about here?” Luke has been struggling to follow the conversation.
Marie whacks him with a spoon. “Oh come on, Luke, wake up!”
“Half the guys in our school were choir boys. Give me a hint.”
“Think for yourself,” Marie gets bitchy.
“Aw come on, just their initials,” Luke begs.
“S, M,” Jon laughs.
Luke thinks for a minute. “I give up.”
Jon steps in to coach. “You know, the virgin Jesuit who apparently likes to watch his buddies get it on.” Jon gives Luke a wink a shove and leans in for a whisper.
“Oh, wow. Yeah–that snot-blower dude–he’s sick, and I don’t mean a cold,” Luke wakes up. “Public sex is not cool, no matter what Goldilocks says.”
Marie chimes in. “Or does. Who needs an abusive voyeur in the courts when we already have one in the White House? So, Dad–you get it now? How are you going to protect my body and your future from a perv in a witch robe? What deal can you make with those devils?
Tony takes his time replying. “First, I’d stop calling them devils.”
“Why? They’re trying to force all of us to live by the rules in the Bible, a 3,000–year-old campfire story that lectures about the devil and satan for thousands of pages, for Christ’s sake. Seriously? Those evangelicals need to get a life. Shame the bejesus out of that sniveler. Call a foul on him.”