© Anna-Karin 2003
Author's disclaimer: The characters of Gene Watson, Lynn Watson and Mr. Smith (Smithey Smith in the story) belong to Paramount Pictures. I'm not making any money from this, and no copyright infringement was ever intended.
Gene was shopping. Christmas shopping. In a huge department store packed with people,
Christmas carols, and cheap plastic things that cost a fortune. It was garishly decorated
from one end to the other with green garlands of plastic ivy and red plastic balls. The
decorations tried to look rustic and merry-old-Englandish, but failed miserably in the
sharp light of the strip lights. Gene didn't like any of it at all. But Christmas was
Christmas, and it required a huge amount of shopping for gifts and decorations. He was
going to give gifts to his superiors as well as to his co-workers. Those were easy to buy.
Bottles of scotch, or wine, was just fine for them. Then it was his parents...
He could feel an headache coming as he paid for a set of doll clothes. The saleswoman
smiled as she recieved the cash and wished him merry Christmas.
Fortunatley Lynn, his daughter, was not with him. She would have whined about being bored, or
being tired, or just hungry. Besides, the doll clothes was one of the many gifts she was
expecting from him. It would have been good to have Smithey with him to help him carry the bags
full of gifts and decorations. But Smithey was busy elsewhere. He was visiting his brother Andy.
Soon Gene had bought his share of Lynn's gifts. He knew that his parents, Lynn's grandparents, would be happy to get the rest. They rarely got to see Lynn so they loved spoiling her whenever they got a chance. Next Gene looked for something for Smithey. Something that would be special and right. But what? Smithey had half-jokingly suggested a new bathrobe, but that might be to intimate, especially if Smithey was to unwrap the gift in front of Gene's parents. Gene shook his head. He hadn't come out to his parents yet, and Christmas might not be the best time of the year to do something like that. The parents of Lynn's mother had died the year before, of old age. At least he wouldn't have to worry about what they would be thinking of his boyfriend. But he missed them anyway, a little. They'd been nice people.
Then Gene thought of Smithey's parents. Smithey had told him that they were coming to New York to celebrate Christmas and New Year. Smithey had asked if his parents could come with him to Gene's place to celebrate Christmas with the Watsons. Gene had said yes. It had seemed like a good idea then, but now he seriously doubted whether Smithey's parents and his own parents could get on well or not. Hopefully they could, otherwise the Christmas would be ruined. Gene's headache got worse.
Gene left the department store. The snow was falling down in huge flakes, making the street look like a Christmas card. He waved for a cab. One pulled over and he got inside. The driver saw that Gene was not in the mood for any small talk whatsoever, and drove him home in silence.
Lynn was with Mrs. Lewis, drinking strawberry tea and munching on biscuits. She liked Mrs. Lewis' appartment. The furniture was old, but they were wrapped in beautiful cloths, striped and patterned in a rainbow of colors. Mrs. Lewis changed them with the seasons. In summer they were light and cool, but in winter they were dark green, brown, red or blue. Once Lynn had helped picking the right fabrics for the season.
She knew that her dad had been out buying her Christmas gifts, and she hoped that he'd
bought that special set of clothes that was just perfect for her favourite doll. She told Mrs. Lewis
about this. But, contrary to Lynn's expectations, Mrs. Lewis frowned and said that that wasn't
what Christmas was about.
"It's supposed to be a time of peace and joy", said Mrs. Lewis, "Not an opportunity to buy
as much as one can."
"But I like getting gifts", said Lynn.
"Have you made any for your dad?" asked Mrs. Lewis.
"Yes, a spectacle-case that I made in school. With his name on, and flowers. I also made a
book for him. I wrote it, and drew the pictures in it, and sewed together the pages."
Lynn was very proud of herself. She had pricked herself on the needle many times when
sewing together the pages. And Mrs. lewis seemed to approve of this.
"You're a good girl", said Mrs. Lewis.
Smithey Smith visited his brother Andy, who lived at Jean Arons' Memorial Home For Adults With Autism. They sat in Andy's room. Andy showed some of his paintings for Smithey. He was going to give away some of the paintings as Christmas gifts. Smithey was there to help him to decide who who'd get which painting. The paintings were small, unlike the paintings Andy had made in the past. He'd grown interested in miniatures, and still lives, and had combined the two in his loveley miniature still lives.
The people at the institution said that if Andy was able to change style, when he felt like doing that, was a step forward for him. It meant that he could perhaps be able to tolerate other changes, as long as he felt that he could control them. Smithey didn't think so. He knew how much Andy relied on routines and rituals to cope with a chaotic world. One step forward could easily be followed by two steps back. But he was happy that Andy had dared to try something new.
The telephone rang at Gene's place. Gene, who'd been looking forward to a quiet breakfast,
sighed, rose from the table, cup still in hand, and picked up the receiver.
"Gene Watson here", he said.
"Hello Gene!"
"Smithey!" Gene smiled.
"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, and spoil the sunday morning for you, but I need to
tell you a few things."
"Okay."
"First, Mom and Dad would love to meet you and Lynn, but we can't come over to your place
until 20.00, because we're going to see Andy first, and he lives outside New York. So we
might not be able to come in time for the dinner, but for the snacks and drinks."
"That's okay. My parents will be happy to have Lynn all to themselves all day."
"My parents are looking forward to meet Lynn."
"That's good. Hope she'll like them."
"So do I. They'd love to spoil her."
"You're still coming over today?"
"Yeah. Wild horses couldn't keep me from spending a day with you, Lynn and an all-day
Muppet Show marathon."
"Great. I'll make the popcorn."
"I'll bring the Chinese take-out."
"Good."
"I was over at Andy's yesterday, and he has made gifts for you and Lynn. And he told
me to say 'Andy says hi.'
"Thanks. Tell him 'hello' from me."
"Okay. See you."
"See you too."
Smithey hung up. So did Gene. They looked forward to spend a sunday with each other. Those sundays had started as a compromise when Mrs Lewis was ill and unable to look after Lynn, while her father and Smithey was out on a date. Most sundays Gene and Lynn rented the films, while Smithey brought the food. Most of the time Lynn decided which films to rent. Sometimes it was cartoons, and sometimes it was musicals like Mary Poppins. When Lynn got to bed, Gene and Smithey would sit together in the couch and talk. Then they'd go to bed too. Most sundays they'd just lie in bed talking, but sometimes they'd make love.
Just thinking about *that* made Gene blush and smile. As he picked up the cup, and looked out through the window, he thought back on the months they'd been dating. On their two first dates they had only kissed. On the third date Smithey had brought Gene to his place and they'd made love. Gene hadn't known much about what two men could do in bed together, and the little he'd read about it had sounded rather awkward to him. Smithey had taken it slow though, not rushing anything. He'd treated Gene like a virgin, which he was, in a sense. Gene had been eager to learn though, and Smithey had been willing to teach. They'd been great together.
He strolled into his room and began to change his clothes. One couldn't go out in one's pajamas, could one? On the window-sill, just next to a pile of books, was a blue rubber duck with a black top hat. It looked as if it would start to tap-dance around on the sill. Smithey had bought it for him, as a joke, but Gene liked the naughty expression in the duck's face. It was as if it was aware of what happened in this room, and approving of it.
The people at Gene's job had noticed the change in his demeanor, and had made the correct assumption that Gene was getting laid, and well laid too. Sometimes they would joke with Gene about the identity of his girlfriend. Gene hadn't told them that his 'girlfriend' actually was a boyfriend.
Gene frowned at the thought of coming out to his parents and his co-workers. He didn't want to open that can o'worms just to risk his job, and the relatively good relationship that he had with his parents these days. So he tried to not think about it too much, since it would only make him lie sleepless at night. He looked at the clock and put those thoughts aside. In a couple of hours he and Lynn would go and rent a few videos at the video store round the block.
The door-bell rang. Lynn ran to the door and let Smithey in. Smithey was carrying two bags with Chinese take-out. Gene took the bags from him without a word, and put the food on the kitchen table. Bothered by Gene's silence Smithey hung up his coat on a hanger, and went to the kitchen too. As he entered the kitchen Gene walked to him and embraced him. The embrace was harder than usual, and to Smithey that meant that Gene was upset about something. Smithey returned the embrace and kissed Gene on the forehead.
"What's wrong?" Smithey asked.
"Nothing. Just thinking about my parents. I'm scared they'll find out", said Gene.
"It won't get that bad. If they find out, it won't be that bad. Then at least they would know. No more
sneaking around."
"You don't know my dad. He'll go ballistic."
"Why?"
Just as Gene was going to answer that question, Lynn came into the kitchen and told the men
that she was hungry. Smithey, who was hungry himself decided that the answer could wait unil
later.
"I got fried shrimps for your dad, beef for me and that noodle thingy for you. There's some
fortune cookies there as well. They put them in before I could stop them", said Smithey to Lynn.
"Is this my food?" asked Lynn as she opened one box after the other.
"You food is in the box you haven't opened yet", said Smithey with a smile.
Lynn opened that box. "Yum", she said.
Gene got the plates on the tables and fetched a bottle of wine, for him and Smithey, and a jug
of juice for Lynn. Then the three of them sat down to eat.
When they had eaten they broke open the fortune cookies and read the the words on the little
white pieces of paper found inside them.
"Trust your mother, she knows what to do", Smithey read out aloud. "Gene, this one should
be yours", he said to Gene.
Gene smiled. He knew Smithey was trying to cheer him up. Then he read his own fortune.
"What's hidden will be found". For a moment Gene thought of his father and shivered. Then he
shook his head. He was really reading to much into these small pieces of paper.
"Good intentions sometimes leads to trouble. Hey, I don't like this one", said Lynn.
Two Muppet Show movies, and one cartoon later, Gene was washing up the dishes while Smithey dried the clean glasses and plates. Lynn was sleeping in her bed, so it was quiet and peaceful. Smithey wondered if it was the right time to ask Gene about his father. Maybe not. Gene might start to throw plates. Perhaps when they were in bed.
Gene and Smithey lay on their sides in Gene's bed, facing each other. Smithey wore the pajamas Gene had given him for his birthday. Gene himself wore an old pajamas. This Chistmas he would get a new one from Smithey, at least that was what Gene suspected he'd get.
It was soothing in a way, lying like this in the dark, Gene thought. Neither Smithey nor Gene had wanted to make love tonight. Gene was too troubled about his parents, and Smithey didn't want to press the issue. But the matter of Gene's parents was something else.
"Gene", said Smithey, "Why are you so bothered about your parents finding out about you being
bi?"
"Not both of them, just dad. Mom's gonna be fine with it, I think. Dad's something else. He's
gonna be really mad at me. Like I chose to be, just to piss him off", Gene said and sighed.
"I see. Mom and dad was like that too, for a while, a year or so. But they got around and
decided that it meant I could take more care of Andy. Luckilly. Now they are happy about me
dating you", repiled Smithey.
"Good. At least two people I don't have to lie to" said Gene softly.
"It won't be that bad. You worry too much. It's gonna be allright", said Smithey and caressed
Gene's stomach. Gene was reminded about "that day", when Smithey had struck him in the stomach,
and then had petted it, under a stream of excuses. The long calm strokes helped easing the
knots in his stomach, so he just sighed contentedly.
"I hope so", said Gene, and then he fell asleep. Soon afterwards Smithey slept too.
Christmas day started with shouts of joy as Lynn found that she'd gotten quite a lot of the things on her wish list. Then Gene was moved by the spectacle-case that Lynn had made for him. Then he opened the other gift that Lynn had made for him. It was a book, or rather a collection of drawings that hed been stitched together to form a book. On the front page Lynn had written the title in big red letters: Lynn's World.
Gene opened the book and saw a self-portrait Lynn had drawn of herself. Lynn had drawn herself dressed in her favourite dress, a red dress with a white lace collar, and with a big smile on her face. Under the self-portrait was the words: Lynn Watson. Gene turned the page to see the next drawing. It was of him, Gene. He was drawn in his usual bussinessman suit, with a briefcase in one hand and a paper in the other. He was also had a big smile on his face, as well as his glasses. Under the picture Lynn had written: My dad Gene Watson. He is an accountant. As he continued to turn the pages, and look at the drawings, he felt as if something was going to happen, but he didn't know whether it was something good or bad. Lynn had drawn her house, her school, her mom as an angel, and written under each picture what it was. Gene was impressed by the fact that Lynn was so good at spelling, but maybe she had asked her teacher, Miss Lee, for help.
Then he turned the page and looked at a drawing of Smithey. It was Smithey, no doubt about it. The moustache and the suit was spot-on, and Gene had to smile at Lynn's eye for details. But then he read what Lynn had written under the picture of Smithey: Smithey Smith. Dad's boyfriend.
The panic rose in Gene as he tried to figure out what to do. He couldn't let his parents see this. And he had to consider Lynn's feelings. Lynn would be very sad if she thought her dad didn't like this gift. Gene would simply have to hide this book and tell Lynn why. He drew a couple of deep breaths and managed to push away the panic. At least he had proof now that Lynn was comfortable about her father being gay and having a boyfriend. He took some comfort in that, and it helped suppressing the panic a little.
"Lynn", said Gene and sat down next to his daughter. He showed her the book and said "this is
a very lovely gift, but I can't show it to grandma and grandpa."
"Why?" asked Lynn.
"Because grandpa would be angry if he found out that Smithey is my boyfriend."
Lynn frowned.
"Why would grandpa be angry about that?"
Gene was silent for a few short moments while he tried to figure out what to say to explain the
situation.
"Because he wants me to have a girlfriend instead. If he finds out I have a boyfriend, he will
be disapointed in me, and sometimes when grandpa gets disapointed, he can get very angry",
said Gene and hoped Lynn would understand.
Lynn nodded, as if she understood what her father said. "Then we mustn't show it to him", she
said, "I don't want grandpa to be angry."
"Good. But Smithey and his parents will like it. We'll show it to them", said Gene with a smile.
"Okay", said Lynn and smiled back.
Gene hid the book in the wardrobe, on a pile of T-shirts. Some of the clothes in the wardrobe belonged to Smithey. He kept a couple of changes of clothes at Gene's place, so that he could go directly from Gene's place to work.
Gene looked at the clock. Three hours left until his parents would ring the door-bell. Three hours to get everything in order. Better get dressed and get started. He and Lynn had put up the Christmas decorations the day before, and would decorate the Christmas tree when his parents had arrived. It was one of their Christmas traditions, and he liked it very much.
When three hours had passed, Lynn was clean and dressed up in her finest clothes, and Gene had tied his tie for the fourth time. Nervously he surveyed his Christmas arrangments. The tree was up in its place. The tinsel and the glass balls, and all the other decorations waited in their boxes. Gene had bought some snacks to eat, and something to drink. Everyhting was in place and in order.
Then the door-bell rang. Gene drew a deep breath and opened the door.
The Smith family were sitting in Andy's room, at Jean Arons' Memorial Home For Adults With Autism. The room had been decorated with a small Christmas tree, put in a corner. Andy's parents and his brother had come up here all the way from New York City, bringing gifts for each other and for Andy. Andy always looked forward to meet his parents, and he had hoped that this year they would bring pictures of their home in Florida, just like they had last year.
Andy opened one of his gifts as his parents and his brother watched. He pulled out a dark blue
shirt. His mom always gave him a new shirt for Christmas, and it was always dark blue. Andy
appreciated that, since he wasn't too fond of surprises and new things.
"Thank you mom", said Andy and smiled. It was an absent shy smile, and the only smile he had.
Other, normal people had a multitude of smiles, and always the right one for the occasion. But
Andy had never understood why it was necessary to have many different smiles, so he smiled his
only smile. His family valued that smile though, since it was a smile and it was used at the
right moment, when thanking for a gift.
"You're welcome", said Mrs. Hanne Smith, who was Andy and Smithey's mother. She was a tall
woman, with wavy gray hair that once had been golden-blonde. When one looked at her one could
imagine that she had been very beautiful once, even if it had been long ago. The only thing
that remained was her sparkling sky-blue eyes and her sense of style.
Then Andy opened the gift he had gotten from his father. A collection of pictures of the
house in Florida. Andy was content. Just what he had expected.
"Thank you dad", he said.
"You're welcome", said Dr Cavendish Smith, Andy and Smithey's father. Dr Smith was a tall
man with iron-gray hair and gray eyes. Both his sons had gotten their looks from him, though
Andy had his mother's blue eyes and golden hair, and Smithey had his father's eyes and hair.
Then Andy opened the gift from his brother. A stack of drawing-paper. Just what he had expected
from his brother. When he had thanked Smithey, he gave them the gifts he had made for them.
They all liked the little paintings, and Smithey was a bit surprised to find that his painting
depicted two birds on a branch.
"This isn't a still life", Smithey said to Andy.
"It is a still life. The birds are not real. It was a china ornament I painted."
"Oh."
"It's in Dr Chang's office."
Smithey nodded. It made sense. Then a horrible suspicion hit him.
"I see. What were you doing there?"
Andy shrugged.
"She wanted to talk with me about having an exhibition at a gallery in New York", he said.
Smithey breathed out. It wasn't as he had feared then. No abuse had happened.
"I'd like to talk to her about that", said Smithey, "I'd like to help."
Then it was time for Christmas dinner with the other residents of the Home and their families.
The dinner went well, with few incidents, none of which involved Andy, to his family's relief.
After the dinner, Smithey called Gene, to tell him that they were on their way. Gene sounded a
bit exhausted when he had answered, but happy at the same time.
"Dad's behaving. He's looking forward to see you. He keeps talking about selling insurances to
your parents", said Gene.
Smithey thought he heard singing in the background.
"Thanks for the warning. I'll pass it on", answered Smithey.
"Okay. I'll have the eggnog and the snacks ready for you."
"Okay."
"See you."
"You too."
Then Gene hung up.
When the Smith family was standing outside the door to Gene's house, Smithey decided to remind
them of one important thing.
"Remember", Smithey said to his parents, "Gene's not out to his folks yet. So keep silent about
his and my relationship. Please."
"We understand", said Mrs. Smith, and Dr Smith nodded.
"We wouldn't want to ruin the Christmas for you and Gene", said Mr. Smith.
Mr. Edward Watson, Gene's father, walked around in his son's appartment. He was short, and a bit on the stocky side. His blonde hair and blue eyes had a colourless quality that made him look pale. Fortunatley his son had inherited his brains, but not his looks.
Mr. Watson heard Gene talk to somebody over the phone, but not what was said. He could hear the happy note in Gene's voice though, and felt a bit bothered by that. But he shrugged it off and continued to explore the appartment. Lynn's room was a normal girl's room, filled with dolls and cute things. That was reassuring, since Lynn seemed a bit wary of her grandfather. Mr. Watson felt a bit hurt when thinking of those sideways glances, the kind you sent to a growling big dog, not sure whether or not it will attack.
Gene's room was plain, just like Gene himself. A bed, a bedside table, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a mirror on the wall. Nothing worth bothering about, and yet Mr. Watson felt that something was wrong. He began to examine the room. Some things, like the cover on the bed and the books on the shelf below the window, were undoubtedly Gene's. The mascot standing next to them, a blue duck with a top hat on its head, was not something Gene would own. Mr Watson was certain of it. It had a cheeky look in its face, which acquitted Lynn from having bought it for her father. The blue duck must have been brought there by someone else. But who?
Mr. Watson decided to look for more clues. He looked under Gene's bed, on the nighttable and even under the carpet on the floor. Only one possible place left to look then; the wardrobe.
As he opened the wardrobe, he heard the door-bell ring. Quickly he closed the wardrobe and went out in the hallway to welcone the Smith family.
The Smith family was a remarkable lot. All of them tall and graceful, with striking looks. Mr.
Watson felt slightly inadequate when he was introduced to them.
"Pleased to meet you", said Mr. Watson to Dr Smith.
"Pleased to meet you too", replied Dr Smith.
Mrs. Rosita Watson, a thin woman with Indian cheekbones and Spanish dark eyes, shook hands with
Mrs. Smith.
"I can see where your son gets his good looks from", said Mrs. Smith as a compliment.
Mrs. Watson thought that she had a funny accent.
"Thank you. My ancestors were Yaquini Indians, and Spanish conquistadors", replied Mrs
Watson.
"Me, I'm from Germany. I came here when I married Cavendish."
"Oh, how interesting..."
As the women were sitting in the living room talking, getting to know each other, the men were a bit nervous and hesitant. Lynn sat down next to her grandmother, and listened to the stories the women told each other. Mr. watson thought of what might be found in the wardrobe, and Dr Smith tried to start a conversation with him. Gene and Smithey had adjourned to the kitchen where they could have a moment of peace and quiet.
"So. How was it at Andy's place?" Gene asked.
"It was alright. How's it been here?"
"Alright, but I think dad might suspect something. He's been more quiet than usual."
"Let's hope for the best. Whatever that may be."
Mr. Watson excused himself, and walked out of the living room. Instead of going to the bath room, he went straight to Gene's room. Knowing he had only a few minutes, he went for the wardrobe and opened it.
At first he didn't see anything but clothes hanging on hangers and lying in neat piles. Then he saw what appeared to be a stack of paper. He lifted it up, and found it to be a collection of drawings that had been bound together to form a book. It was written Lynn's World on the front page. Mr. Watson wondered why such a cute thing would have to be hidden away. Unless, of course, there was something in this book that could reveal who it was who'd given Gene that blue, cheeky duck. He began to read.
Gene was deep in a conversation with Dr Smith about the latter's travels in Europe, while Smithey was listeneing, when a door was slammed shut with a loud bang. Then there were hard stomping steps going from Gene's room to the living room. Then they saw Mr. Watson standing in the door-way, red in the face of fury, holding in his hand something that looked like a stack of drawings. Gene felt sick in his stomach when he realized that his father had found Lynn's gift.
"We are leaving now!" Mr. Watson shouted to his wife.
Mrs. Watson rose from her chair and walked over to him.
"What happened? What's going on?" she asked.
Mr. watson showed him the book, and turned up the page with the portrait of Smithey.
"Read!" he ordered her.
Mrs. watson read. First she went pale, then she went red, and then she closed her eyes and
breathed out. Her face returned to its normal colour, though just a bit redder than before.
"Gene", she asked, "is this true?"
Gene knew what she meant, but he still had to ask.
"What?" he said.
"That this Smithey Smith is your boyfriend. That you are gay."
Gene swallowed. He blinked. He felt like running away. Lynn was scared and hid behind her grand-
mother. She had never seen her grandfather so mad before.
Smithey, who was as frightened as Gene, put a supporting hand on Gene's back. For the moment,
that was all he could do. Mr. Watson saw this.
"Take your hands of my son you filthy queer!" Mr. Watson cried.
He moved forward to physically remove Smithey's hand from Gene's back. In the same moment Dr
Smith stepped forward and interrupted those plans.
"Don't you put a hand on my son!" growled Dr Smith.
Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Smith sensed the danger and decided to move to the kitchen, and take Lynn with them. As they walked out of the living room, Mrs. Smith said to her husband that he should be careful and not hurt anybody. Mrs. Watson kept quiet, not taking any sides at all. "Traitor!" Mr. Watson yelled after her, seeing the significance of her silence.
The women sat around the kitchen table. Mrs. Watson was crying as Mrs. Smith tried to comfort her.
There were loud voices seeping in through the kitchen door. It seemed as it the four men in the
living room were speaking, shouting, all at the same time. Mrs. Watson shuddered, despite the
wine that Mrs. Smith had heated in a saucepan, and had spiced with cinnamon and ginger, and had sweetened
with honey.
"What a mess!", she sighed, and Mrs. Smith noted with relief the decreasing of the matter; from
a "disaster" to mereley a "mess".
"It was almost as bad when Smithey came out to me and Cavendish", she said.
"Really?" asked Mrs. Watson.
"Really. Neither I nor Cavendish talked to him for a year, but then we began to see the
whole thing in a different light."
"How?"
"Since he was gay, he was not likeley to get a family of his own, and therefore
he could devote more time to take care of Andy."
"Was that better?"
"At the time it was. We were on our knees. Andy was proving too much for us to handle, so this
came as very good news."
"Oh."
"It's not as if you don't have any grandchildren. You have Lynn."
"Yes!" said Lynn.
There was a knock on the kitchen door. Mrs. Smith went up and opened it. Dr Smith stepped inside.
"All three of them told me it was none of my business, so I decided to come in here", he said.
"Do you want some hot wine?" asked Mrs. Smith.
"Yes, please."
Lynn listened with rapt attention as the adults began to talk about what it was like to have a gay son. Then the conversation moved to Christmas traditions, and swapping of recipes for hot drinks. They all knew that they tried to tune out the uncomfortable situation in the living room. Then it was Lynn's bedtime, but since there was still a loud conversation going on outside, she was allowed to stay up, or at least out of the bed.
There was another knock on the kitchen door. Dr Smith opened and let in Smithey.
"They told me that I should keep out of the fight", he said the others and snarled, "I would
love to strangle the old bigot with my own hands!"
"It's my husband you are talking about", said Mrs. Watson.
"Sorry, but he called me a lot of bad things, so I'm allowed to do the same to him."
"I apologize for my husband. He did get a bad chock."
"Well", interrupted Mrs. Smith, "Rosita is on her son's side."
"Am I?" said Mrs. Watson.
"Yes, otherwise you would have stayed out there and supported your husband."
Mrs. Watson only nodded. She foresaw a future of difficult choices. Her husband, whom she had
sworn to love and obey, or her son and her granddaughter?
Mrs. Smith saw the inner struggle, and put her arm around Mrs. Watson's shoulders.
"If you need help, just call me."
"Thank you. This will take some time getting used to", said Mrs. Watson. Then she turned to
Smithey.
"You'll look after my son, won't you?"
"Yes, I will."
"Good."
"Is dad alone out there?" said Lynn. She was wide-eyed with fear despite the efforts that the
adults put into distracting her from the quarrel taking place in the living room.
"I want to go to him!" she cried.
Mrs. Watson held her, and stopped her from leaving the kitchen.
"Shush, litte baby", said Mrs. Watson, "this is your daddy's fight, and your granddaddy's."
Lynn whimpered and and began to cry. Mrs. Watson held her tight, while the others could only
watch, not able to do much for the little girl. They all wanted to say something comforting, but
they didn't know what to say. Lynn was too young to watch the possible break-up of her family.
After what had seemed like an eternity the voices got lower and lower. Then there was a knock on
the kitchen door. Dr Smith opened the door and Gene stepped inside. He was tired, having fought
one of the toughest battles in his life.
"Dad wants to leave", he said in a strained, hoarse voice.
After him came Mr. Watson, who seemed as tired and weary as his son. Clearly, neither of them
had won the argument.
"Rosita. Come", said Mr. Watson.
Mrs. Watson rose from her chair. For a long moment she was standing still, holding on to the table, as if her life depended on it. Everyone looked at her, wondering what she was going to do. Should she chose to follow her husband or to stay with her son?
Eventually she made her decicion.
"Dear Edward", she said, "I love you, and I swore to follow you, and to hold on to you, and to obey you, But you are forcing me to make a choice. I will not chose you over our son." She held up a hand as Mr. Watson opened his mouth to say something, and continued; "I will not chose our son over you either."
Both Gene and his father stared at her, as did the Smith family. Mrs. Watson continued; "I was a
poor Mexican girl when I met you. My mother was notorious, while my father was unknown. You
married me, you gave me a position and a name. For that I thank you. You gave me a son, and for
that I thank you. And I love you. But I love our son too, and I'd tear myself apart if I
had to chose either of you. I chose you both, and neither of you." Mrs Watson got silent. She
breathed as if she had run a marathon.
Mr. Watson looked at her, blinking away tears. Gone was the fury inside his mind. It was as if his
wife had managed to slap some sense into his head, just by using words. He realized how much he
had hurt her by forcing her to chose between her husband and her son.
"I won't make you chose. But don't expect me to be happy about Gene's life-style either", said
Mr. Watson.
"You don't have to join me for visits, but don't force me to keep quiet about Gene's life at
home. I want to be able to talk to you about Lynn, about Gene, and if it means mentioning his
...boyfriend, then so be it", replied Mrs. Watson.
Mr. Watson thought for a long time. Then he sighed.
"Alright", said he.
The hour was late as Mr. and Mrs. Watson left Gene's appartment. Mrs. Watson told Gene that she
would phone him the following evening. Gene phoned for a cab to take them to their hotel. Lynn
was happy that her grandparents wouldn't cut off all ties to her and her father. Her grandmother
was really an amazing person.
Mrs. Smith gave Mrs. Watson her calling-card, and told her to call anytime.
"It's not easy having a gay son. You are doing fine, but you will need support", said Mrs. Smith.
"Thank you", said Mrs. Watson.
"You'll get used to having a gay son", said Dr Smith to Mr. Watson.
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes."
Smithey's parents left shortly afterwards. They were going to sleep at Smithey's place. Since they would use Smithey's car to get there, Gene would drive Smithey home the next day, which happened to be a sunday.
All three of those remaining in the appartment, Gene, Smithey and Lynn, were too wound up to be able to go to sleep. They sat down on the couch, with Gene in the middle, with Smithey on one side and Lynn on the other. They were all so tired, and yet they could not sleep. The next day they would have to clean up the mess left behind by this never-again-kind of Christmas. None of them looked forward to it.
"Do you remember that CD I gave you?" Smithey asked Gene.
"Yes."
"Would you like to listen to it?"
"What was it? I never got a chance to look at it properly."
"It's a collection of Christmas songs in German. Mom taught me them, but I've forgotten most of
the words so I decided to buy this CD. I bought one for myself as well."
"Put it on, please."
Smithey put the CD in the CD player, and before long a beautiful contralto filled the appartment with its dulcet notes.
Es ist ein' Ros' entsprungen
aus einer Wurzel zart.
Wie uns die Alten sungen,
von Jesse kam die Art.
Und hat ein Blümlein bracht
mitten im kalten Winter
Wohl zu der halben Nacht.
Das Blümlein, das ich meine
davon Jesias sagt,
hat uns gebracht alleine
Marie, die reine Magd.
Aus Gottes ew'gen Rat
hat sie ein Kind geboren,
Wohl zu der halben Nacht.
Wir bitten dich von Herzen,
Maria Rose zart:
Durch dieses Blümleins Schmerzen
die es empfunden hat,
willst uns verhilflich sein,
dass wir ihm mögen schaffen
ein Wohnung hübsh und fein.
Lynn listened to the unknown language, and found it beautiful. She decided that she'd learn it some day. She crept up in her father's arms and made herself comfortable. Gene rested his head against Smithey's shoulders, as Smithey put an arm around his. Then they sat there and listened to the songs and relaxed.
When the sun rose they slept soundly.
THE END
Author's note: Once again the computer decided to act up on me. This time it lost the final lines of ch 9, so I decided to let the chapter end there. The epilogue dissapeared completly, so I rewrote it. This is the reason why the story I sent to the Freeslash list is different from the story here.