Saturday Story

Thank you for joining me for part 19 of my first Saturday Story: Rags to Riches. I look forward to posting part 20 next week.

Give your life the green light. It’s A Go!

Amber Green

Rags to Riches

Part 19

To Riches:

“Cheers,” Dave’s Uncle Charlie said, as he and Dave clinked their cocktail glasses together.

“Salute,” Chris said as he joined in with a glass of club soda and lime.

They sat in one of the most exclusive restaurants in Los Angeles, ready to enjoy a decadent meal in celebration of Dave’s Uncle’s new relationship.

After taking a sip, Chris said, “I really feel odd toasting your relationship without your girlfriend here to enjoy it.” Dave chuckled.

“Alexis will be shortly, I’m sure,” Charlie said happily, “until then, boys, let’s toast to the end of twenty years in the closet.”

Chris and Dave looked at each other in confusion. “Uncle Charlie,” Dave began, “thanks, but Chris and I weren’t in the closet for twenty years- I mean, each of us were in our early twenties when we came out, but-”

“No, no, my dear nephew, I mean me. Alexis is a man,” Charlie smiled bashfully. “Because of your and Chris’s bravery, I decided to live in my truth at long last,” Charlie said, in earnest.

Chris and Dave looked at each other again. Dave was clearly taken aback as he looked at his uncle, but he smiled widely. In his moments of speechlessness, Chris assumed that Dave was doing a mental inventory for the clues to this long-held secret that he must have missed throughout his life.

“We’ll toast to that all night long,” Chris said happily, as he raised his glass for a second time.

From Rags:

I walked back to the car with Chris’s phone charger in my hand. With everything going on in the past few days, I was relieved that our father had come to the hospital to find out how my brother- his only son- was doing (even though he chose not to see Chris yet). A small step as it was, it was still progress.

While a young man coming out as gay is no big deal in many families, there are still those who condemn such a lifestyle for one reason or another. The harsh- and unfair- reality is that some people don’t get even small steps in repairing their relationship with family members who did not agree with homosexuality, I thought sadly. Fortunately, it looked like my brother and our father would one day speak again.

I got back in Priscilla’s car and handed the charger to Chris. I was happy that after such a turbulent time, my siblings were laughing at something as I settled in to my seat.

“Thanks,” Chris said, taking the charger I passed to him.

“No problem,” I said. I hesitated for a second; I didn’t know whether I should tell my brother that our father had in fact come to see how he was doing.

My seemingly clairvoyant sister picked up on the fact that something was off. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing- nothing, it’s just- it’s…” I hesitated, worried about how Chris would react to the news.

Chris joined my sister, now in a joint-quest to find out what was causing my stammering. “It’s okay, Frankie. Take your time.”

Chris and I made eye contact. “I saw dad.” Priscilla’s eyes widened and Chris looked away. He occupied himself by tearing at the label on a water bottle in the cup holder beside him. “He asked how you’re doing, Chris, but… he- he had to leave.” I said, sparing my brother’s feelings by omitting that our father chose not to walk out with me to see Chris for himself.

“That’s nice,” Chris said quietly.

“About time,” Priscilla said, under her breath, clearly the hardest to impress- and only parent- among the three of us. “Shall we go home?” she asked cheerfully, trying to break the awkwardness and brighten the mood.

“Yeah,” I said.

……

It had been a quiet drive to Priscilla and Luke’s house; my siblings and I lost in our own thoughts.

After Chris was settled in the basement and enjoyed relaxing for a while, he and I hung out with our nephews while Priscilla and Luke made dinner. It was nice to see the kids laughing and playing with Chris. CJ- Priscilla and Luke’s eldest- seemed to have a special bond. It was sweet to watch them joke with one another as they figured out the secrets of the newest video game together.

It wasn’t until after the boys went to bed that we spoke to Chris about what had happened just a few short days ago. In true Bruno fashion, the three of us found ourselves in the kitchen while Luke was busy tending to paperwork in another room. Priscilla was warming up a plate of leftovers for Chris’s boyfriend, Dave; he was expected to arrive shortly.

“Thanks for having me here, P,” Chris said.

“Of course!” Priscilla said, looking over at our brother.

“Look, guys, I’m really sorry,” Chris began. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to, to– you know…”

Priscilla and I looked at each other. “Chris,” Priscilla said, “are you sure that you didn’t mean to-”

“No!” Chris said, interrupting her. “I mean- I- I intended to get drunk, to black out even- which, I know- I know, is stupid and dangerous” catching Priscilla’s mom-face, “but I didn’t want to- to-”

“Not wake up?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Chris exhaled.

We let that sink in for a moment. Then Priscilla asked, “Chris, do you think you have a problem with alcohol?”

“No,” Chris said without hesitation. “I have a problem with dad.”

“Christopher,” Priscilla began.

“Priscilla, I don’t have a problem with alcohol. I had a problem with alcohol for one day. One terrible day, yes- and again, I’m sorry for putting all of you through that,” Chris said forcefully.

“But, Chris, this is not the first time that you got really drunk. You’ve blacked out a bunch of times, yes?” Priscilla pressed.

“I’m a 22-year-old man, Priscilla. It’s basically a rite of passage,” Chris said, rationalizing his behaviour.

Priscilla exhaled, “Chris, you’ve only been legally able to drink for a few years, and you just said that you intended to get blackout drunk while at home alone, because you’re depressed about Dad.” I could see that Chris was losing his cool, and Priscilla could see it, too. She backed off a bit, and said, “I’m not calling you an alcoholic, Chris. It’s just- what happened to you is scary, and I want to make sure that you figure out how to deal with the painful things in life without relying on alcohol. It’s too slippery a slope,” she said.

“Fine. Thanks. It’s all good, P,” Chris said angrily, shutting down, and he turned to leave the kitchen.

“What if it had been CJ?” I asked. Chris stopped and turned to face me. “What if- in ten or twelve years- CJ goes through something awful, and winds up in the ER, unconscious because of alcohol?”

Chris didn’t say anything, but I saw his eyes soften.

“Thanks for the food, P,” he said, as he took the leftovers for Dave and turned to go downstairs.

Priscilla and I looked at one another. When we could hear Chris descending the staircase, I said, “He’s stubborn. Probably scared, trying to figure everything out. Like Dad.”

“That was good to turn the tables on him like that,” Priscilla said, referring to my comment about CJ. “And yeah, he is stubborn like Dad, but so am I, and I can outlast him,” Priscilla said confidently.

I smiled. Super-sister to the rescue, I thought.

…………

Continue reading Rags to Riches: Part 20 here.

*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

© 2018 Amber Green