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Cabin Cousins: Part 5
Cabin Cousins: Part 5
The Gales of November.
Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections.
"Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the
pillow.
She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side
with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's
eyes.
"Wow. That was..." She sighed.
"...Wonderful."
I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it
as much as I did."
She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and
you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I
could tell there was something serious behind the question.
"I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love
you."
She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and
pulled me in close, kissing me deeply.
When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered.
"It's our bed, and I love you too."
We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that
she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the
silence.
"Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes."
Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but
now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes.
"I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once
before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the
process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance.
She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her
back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any
pancake mix."
She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started
laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with
laughter.
I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed.
"Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast."
Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer.
Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting
dressed too, or are you going to go like that?"
"I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following
her every movement.
I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to
her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a
stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder
muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten.
She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at
that.
"You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a
shock." She shot back, still laughing.
With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For
the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed."
Chapter Sixteen.
The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I
ate too much, but that really hit the spot."
She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with
murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast,
and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a
strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's
hands on several occasions.
I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a
third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I
didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too."
Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous
eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time."
"I need to work out more."
"I can help with that." She replied, and we both
giggled, knowing the truth of it.
"Let's start with a walk."
We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating,
we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little
river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to
Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one
of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the
rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was
blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp
early November air some real bite.
We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding
hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon
Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go?
"When I left home," Melissa began, just loud
enough to hear.
I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was
saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this
moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I
resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace.
"This was the first place I went." She continued.
"I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go."
She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching,
her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have
been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt
that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk.
"Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go
up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the
mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She
pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up,
scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell
anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in
a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not
the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and
wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve.
"I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should
have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if
I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the
laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I
sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of
hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and
came back here."
She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now
turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I
wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let
her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue.
"When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think
I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was
going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off
without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from
me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You
know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like
it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the
cause of everything that happened."
She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a
profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder
against me.
"Did your parents tell you what happened?"
My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying.
"They were vague."
She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy
day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have
them."
She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if
her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear
her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and
less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more
than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do
anything."
As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior,
and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa
spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the
system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was
assigned for all of it.
"So that night, I remember when the state trooper
knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he
was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the
window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She
shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed,
wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That
trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just
to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to
see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting
arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she
went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper
persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of
unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley.
We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice
to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just
couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping
into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone
loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but
eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was
right and good, and normal."
She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning
through the hurt.
"I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought
that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me,
to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the
cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's
just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm
still so afraid."
I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her
cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what
happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I
love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will
stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from
this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!"
Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered
pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each
other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of
wind, water, and young lovers.
Chapter Seventeen.
Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the
hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to
leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would
never have to leave her again.
When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a
newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was
going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also
didn't want to tell her the whole truth.
"How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the
cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting."
"I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as
the Village People."
"Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile.
"Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I
can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the
stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been
having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I
transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager.
He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these
individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying.
"Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills.
That's a long way to drive though."
"Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every
day."
"Did you look into getting an apartment up there?"
Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention.
"After the school year starts, there's literally
nothing cheap available."
"Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking
concerned.
"Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know
that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there
long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe
call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie.
I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done.
"Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?"
"Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my
phone."
"You should figure this out sooner rather than
later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call
now."
I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't
memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the
volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of
the conversation too.
"Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three
rings.
"Hi Melissa, it's Charles."
"Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?"
"Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work,
and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a
place of my own." Another necessary lie.
"Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to
find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was
lucky to get this place, this spring."
"So, you're okay with me staying with you?"
"Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I
don't think my landlord would approve of campfires."
"I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and
everything."
"Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to
ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will
make saving for school a lot easier."
"Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and
we can figure out the details?"
"Yeah, okay."
"I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should
probably let you go."
"Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled.
"Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure
that the phone picked it up.
"Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much
quieter this time.
"Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively
say I love you.
I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me
with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked.
"So, does she love you as much as you love her?"
My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond.
"That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but
lovely."
I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words
but found only shocked silence.
"Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly
voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see
at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?"
I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing
that it was all over. I felt like crying.
"Good," Mom said simply.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and
Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?"
"Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter
where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let
go."
My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my
pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently
rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid.
When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's
length. "Now, tell me about her."
I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest
and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than
Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just
by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself,
to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of
horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we
made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and
understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so
good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa.
When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?"
"Oh, I doubt he picked up on it."
"Are you going to tell him?"
Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would
be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and
gentle, but with a very strict moral compass.
"Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about
Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed.
Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out."
She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I
told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight.
I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa.
"What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think
I'd hear from you until tomorrow."
Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother
has officially given us her blessing."
The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she
spoke, I could tell that she was crying.
"How did she find out?" She asked.
I recounted the whole conversation.
"See? I told you your mom was the best."
"She really is."
"So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety.
"She said that she had to tell everyone because it's
better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I
agreed."
After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too."
As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I
had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting
and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those
like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for
me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother,
Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert.
Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding
and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue.
Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time,
with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was
ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life
been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed
acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything,
but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever
could.
At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had
stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and
that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and
spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions.
Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer,
I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole
group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone.
"Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or
say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care."
Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes.
I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my
bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of
the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a
pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide
my face from the
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Cabin Cousins: Part 5
The Gales of November.
Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections.
"Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the
pillow.
She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side
with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's
eyes.
"Wow. That was..." She sighed.
"...Wonderful."
I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it
as much as I did."
She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and
you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I
could tell there was something serious behind the question.
"I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love
you."
She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and
pulled me in close, kissing me deeply.
When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered.
"It's our bed, and I love you too."
We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that
she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the
silence.
"Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes."
Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but
now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes.
"I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once
before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the
process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance.
She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her
back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any
pancake mix."
She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started
laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with
laughter.
I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed.
"Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast."
Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer.
Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting
dressed too, or are you going to go like that?"
"I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following
her every movement.
I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to
her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a
stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder
muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten.
She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at
that.
"You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a
shock." She shot back, still laughing.
With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For
the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed."
Chapter Sixteen.
The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I
ate too much, but that really hit the spot."
She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with
murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast,
and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a
strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's
hands on several occasions.
I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a
third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I
didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too."
Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous
eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time."
"I need to work out more."
"I can help with that." She replied, and we both
giggled, knowing the truth of it.
"Let's start with a walk."
We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating,
we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little
river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to
Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one
of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the
rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was
blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp
early November air some real bite.
We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding
hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon
Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go?
"When I left home," Melissa began, just loud
enough to hear.
I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was
saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this
moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I
resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace.
"This was the first place I went." She continued.
"I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go."
She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching,
her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have
been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt
that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk.
"Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go
up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the
mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She
pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up,
scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell
anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in
a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not
the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and
wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve.
"I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should
have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if
I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the
laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I
sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of
hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and
came back here."
She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now
turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I
wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let
her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue.
"When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think
I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was
going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off
without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from
me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You
know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like
it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the
cause of everything that happened."
She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a
profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder
against me.
"Did your parents tell you what happened?"
My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying.
"They were vague."
She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy
day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have
them."
She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if
her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear
her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and
less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more
than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do
anything."
As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior,
and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa
spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the
system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was
assigned for all of it.
"So that night, I remember when the state trooper
knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he
was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the
window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She
shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed,
wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That
trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just
to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to
see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting
arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she
went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper
persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of
unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley.
We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice
to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just
couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping
into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone
loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but
eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was
right and good, and normal."
She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning
through the hurt.
"I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought
that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me,
to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the
cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's
just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm
still so afraid."
I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her
cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what
happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I
love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will
stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from
this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!"
Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered
pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each
other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of
wind, water, and young lovers.
Chapter Seventeen.
Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the
hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to
leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would
never have to leave her again.
When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a
newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was
going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also
didn't want to tell her the whole truth.
"How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the
cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting."
"I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as
the Village People."
"Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile.
"Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I
can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the
stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been
having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I
transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager.
He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these
individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying.
"Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills.
That's a long way to drive though."
"Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every
day."
"Did you look into getting an apartment up there?"
Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention.
"After the school year starts, there's literally
nothing cheap available."
"Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking
concerned.
"Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know
that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there
long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe
call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie.
I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done.
"Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?"
"Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my
phone."
"You should figure this out sooner rather than
later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call
now."
I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't
memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the
volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of
the conversation too.
"Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three
rings.
"Hi Melissa, it's Charles."
"Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?"
"Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work,
and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a
place of my own." Another necessary lie.
"Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to
find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was
lucky to get this place, this spring."
"So, you're okay with me staying with you?"
"Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I
don't think my landlord would approve of campfires."
"I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and
everything."
"Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to
ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will
make saving for school a lot easier."
"Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and
we can figure out the details?"
"Yeah, okay."
"I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should
probably let you go."
"Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled.
"Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure
that the phone picked it up.
"Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much
quieter this time.
"Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively
say I love you.
I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me
with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked.
"So, does she love you as much as you love her?"
My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond.
"That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but
lovely."
I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words
but found only shocked silence.
"Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly
voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see
at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?"
I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing
that it was all over. I felt like crying.
"Good," Mom said simply.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and
Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?"
"Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter
where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let
go."
My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my
pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently
rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid.
When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's
length. "Now, tell me about her."
I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest
and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than
Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just
by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself,
to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of
horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we
made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and
understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so
good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa.
When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?"
"Oh, I doubt he picked up on it."
"Are you going to tell him?"
Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would
be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and
gentle, but with a very strict moral compass.
"Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about
Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed.
Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out."
She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I
told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight.
I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa.
"What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think
I'd hear from you until tomorrow."
Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother
has officially given us her blessing."
The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she
spoke, I could tell that she was crying.
"How did she find out?" She asked.
I recounted the whole conversation.
"See? I told you your mom was the best."
"She really is."
"So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety.
"She said that she had to tell everyone because it's
better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I
agreed."
After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too."
As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I
had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting
and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those
like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for
me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother,
Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert.
Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding
and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue.
Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time,
with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was
ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life
been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed
acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything,
but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever
could.
At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had
stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and
that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and
spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions.
Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer,
I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole
group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone.
"Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or
say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care."
Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes.
I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my
bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of
the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a
pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide
my face from the
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