Homecoming (58 page)

“I never thought of you as a sibling.” He shrugged, his shoulders so much bigger and more powerful looking than they’d been in school. “I had plenty of those.”

“You thought I was going to be your girlfriend,” she said, deciding to just throw it out there and stop beating around the bush.

His shoulders slumped noticeably. “I thought we’d just, you know, figure out we were supposed to be together.”

He finally met her eyes, and she could see all of the anger he’d shown that summer had vanished. Now he just looked weak.

“My therapist says that’s what I do. Decide I want something, then wait for it to happen.”

“Think he’s right?”

“What do you think?” he asked, his expression filled with disgust. Definitely at himself. “I thought we’d both be accountants and have good jobs. We’d live in a big city and do things. Go out to dinner. Travel around. I used to picture us in Boston. We would have had season tickets at Fenway,” he added, looking even more depressed. “How am I doing on that list?”

“Pretty bad. But you act like you’re too old to change. You’re not,” she insisted. “I could help you out if you want to get back into accounting.”

“No thanks. I don’t have much self-respect, but I’m not going to work for you.”

He was so literal! “That’s not what I meant. The U is a huge place. You could work there and never see me. And I know a lot of people in the state government. You could live in Montpelier and get some experience. Eventually you could work your way down to Boston. Good accountants don’t grow on trees. They’re tough to find.”

“I can’t leave,” he insisted. “I’m stuck here, making nothing, just so Lisa can be close to her parents. I screwed up, and it’s too late to fix it.”

“Fine. So you’re stuck in Sugar Hill. And now you’re cutting yourself off from your family. Got any more bright ideas? ’Cause the ones you’ve had so far suck.”

“I’m not cutting myself off from my family!”

“You most certainly are. Do you really think your mom’s going to banish Lizzie so you and Lisa feel more comfortable? If you do, you’re delusional.”

“Lizzie doesn’t come down here very often. Other than that, it’ll be the same.”

“Bullshit,” Jill spat. “Once Lisa knows she can separate you, she’ll do her best to keep you away. She wants to control you, Mark, and you’re letting her.”

She went to stand right in front of him, getting in the way of the piece he was working on. “Look me in the eye and tell me you think I’m a bad influence on your kids. Convince me you think I’m going to hell for being gay. I
dare
you,” she demanded with a pulse of venom she didn’t know she had in her.

“I don’t think that,” he said, unable to meet her gaze. “I hear so much of that crap from Lisa that some of it came out when I was at your house. But I don’t believe it.”

“I bet your kids are going to believe it. Is that how you want them to grow up? With hatred in their hearts?”

“They won’t,” he grumbled. “They can think for themselves.”

“They’re looking for guidance, Mark. From you. Staying away from your family because your sister’s in a lesbian relationship gives them the very clear message that Lizzie’s a bad influence, or a bad person. What else are they supposed to think?”

His voice was soft, and he spoke like he was trying to convince her of something even he didn’t believe. “Lisa tells them they should still love her. They just can’t see her.”

“Great message. Just super.”

He finally lifted his chin and met her eyes. “What do you want me to do? I’m stuck in this marriage, and I’m stuck in this town. It’s not like I can do what I want.”

“Of course you can! You can stand up for yourself. For your family!”

“They don’t need me,” he grumbled. “They’re fine.”

“Lizzie does. You have no fucking idea how much you’ve hurt her. And now you’re allowing Lisa to cut Lizzie’s tie to Grace. How much bullshit are you willing to take?”

“If I stay out of it and let Lisa make the decisions, my life is easy,” he said quietly. “She stays off my back.”

“That would work just fine if you didn’t have a conscience. But you do. And it’s going to eat at you. I promise you that. It’s going to eat away at the self-respect you claim to have.”

“I have self-respect!” He gripped the vise handle, the veins on the back of his hand sticking out.

“Then use it! When you were a kid, you stood up to bullies. Remember when the other kids in the neighborhood didn’t want to let Freddie Giger play whiffle ball? You stuck up for that chubby, near-sighted, slow-footed kid, even though we always lost when he was on our team. I respected you for that. I respected the hell out of you then, Mark. You stood up and did the right thing.”

His shoulders slumped and he held onto the bench with both hands. “I’ve let this go on for twenty years,” he whispered, like he was revealing a shameful secret. “If I start standing up to her now, it’ll destabilize my marriage. And there’s no way I could pay alimony or child support! No way!”

“Look,” she said, moving close enough so she could see his pupils dilate, “you made a mistake in marrying Lisa. That’s just the damned truth. But she’s like a vicious dog. You can try to stay out of her way, to not make her mad, but one day she’ll bite you.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled. “Thanks for calling my wife a dog.”

“I could call her a lot worse, but I’ve made my point. Once you’ve broken things off with your family, it’ll be hard to come back.
If
they’ll take you back.”

“They’re my family! Not yours!”

She let that sting for a moment, then the truth came to her. It was so simple. “That’s where you’re wrong. A family is just the people you can turn to when you need support. I get that from your mom and dad. Given that I never got it from my own parents, I’ve realized it’s not about blood. It’s about love.”

“My parents will always love me!” His cheeks were nearly as red as his hair. “There’s not a doubt in my mind about that.”

“Probably true. But they won’t respect you. If you cut your kids off from Lizzie, and stop attending family get-togethers, you’ll lose their respect. I’m certain of that.”

He stared at her, a mixture of fatigue and anger still coloring his face. “Why couldn’t you have stayed away? Things were fine before you came back.”

“Doubtful,” she said, moving to the door. She stopped and looked at him one more time. “I wish this didn’t have to be so hard for you. I really do. But my life changed for the better the day I met you, and I’m forever grateful for the friendship we once had. Being a part of your family helped make me the person I am today.” Their eyes finally met. “Don’t turn your back on them. That’ll be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”

***

On Christmas Eve, Jill watched Lizzie rustle around the Davis family home, organizing the multitude of presents now tucked under the tree. They’d gotten through the dinner Janet had assembled, bland chicken and potatoes, then lit into the Christmas cookies, each one lovingly and perfectly assembled. Janet’s dinner was often purgatory, with dessert nearly always a bite of heaven.

The whole family was expected for their traditional gathering early on Christmas day, with breakfast and present opening starting around eight.

Now, in the lull before the storm, Lizzie sat crosslegged on the floor, with the huge tree providing Jill a nice backdrop to study her by. The Davis family had always gone for big trees, as big as would fit into the room, and this year was no exception.

The decorations were from several different eras, large, old-style colored lights, a string of bubblers, probably from the sixties, many strings of mini-lights, and a few new ones, their blue cast revealing them to be LEDs. It was, frankly, a mess when it came to style. But it showed how long they’d been at it, with Jill giving them high marks for longevity. Janet and Mike were going to celebrate their fiftieth anniversary in the spring, and Jill was filled with confidence that Mike was healthy enough to not only make it, but enjoy it.

After watching her work for a while, Jill realized Lizzie was grouping presents according to family, lining them up under the tree just so. Her hands landed on the one Jill had watched her wrap at home. The one for Grace. Not the type to linger on upsetting topics, Lizzie hadn’t mentioned her niece since she’d found out her number had been blocked. But Jill knew how much it hurt her. She’d spent a long time wrapping the gift, making it prettier than all of the others by leaps and bounds. It was like she was trying to show Grace how much she cared, given she couldn’t actually tell her.

Even though Lizzie had been upbeat about the holidays, Jill could see she was a little off. Not quite her perky self. Even now, sitting by the tree, there was a certain melancholia in her attitude. Nothing glaring. Just a little slump to her shoulders, some fatigue in her expression.

With a burst of cold air, the front door opened. A sheepish Mark stood in the opening, with his kids’ heads peeking around his shoulders. His gaze traveled around the room, finally landing on Lizzie. “Got room for a few more?”

Leaping to her feet, Lizzie ran across the room and threw her arms around her older brother. For a moment, Jill saw the old Mark, the one she’d loved, in his tender expression. His eyes were closed, his chin buried in Lizzie’s shoulder as he clearly tried to control his emotions. Jill wanted to jump to her feet and get in on the hug, but she stayed right where she was, letting the siblings have a moment. Movement from the kitchen caught her eye, and she saw Janet in the doorway, dabbing at her eyes with a dishcloth.

Mike broke the tension when he called out, “Will you come in and shut the door! You’ll give us all pneumonia.” His bluster was just for show, and his voice softened immediately. “Come over here, Grace and give your old Grandpa a Christmas kiss.”

The girl strolled over to him, acting like she was oblivious to the emotion pulsing in the room. But Jill was certain she was taking it all in, maybe deciding how to process it. Her brothers, both tall and gangly, stood next to their father, looking around like they were visiting a place they were unfamiliar with.

Jill decided it was time to make an overture. She stood, walked over and said, “Let me take your coats, guys.”

Mark gave her a thin smile, then he and the boys handed over their coats and stocking caps. She put them in the den, then came back and heard Mark explain, “Since we’re going to be with Lisa’s family tomorrow, we thought we’d better come over tonight.” He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “Lisa’s not feeling well, so she’s staying home to get some rest.”

“Good,” Mike said, a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, it’s good that she’s taking care of herself.”

“Yeah.” Mark came farther into the house and sat on the sofa. “Got anything to drink?”

“I’ll get it,” Jill said. “Beer?”

“Yeah. And soda for the kids?”

“Got it,” she said, continuing on her way.

When Jill came back, Lizzie was perched on the arm of the sofa, leaning against her brother. Jill didn’t have many memories of Lizzie as a kid, but she recalled this exact scene from at least twenty-five years ago. With Lizzie soaking up every bit of affection she could pull out of Mark. He’d always been her favorite brother, and that made it Jill’s business to pull Mark back in. They’d figure this out. It wouldn’t be quick, but they would do it. If it would make Lizzie happy, Jill would do damned near anything—just as Lizzie would do for her. They were partners. In every way.

***

Sixteen kids. Fourteen adults. All bundled up against the cold, waiting to enter Sugar Hill Ponds, the Nordic, tubing, and snowshoeing center right on the edge of town.

Mike and Janet had bought season passes for everyone for Christmas, and they were queued up according to age, just as they’d done as kids. Jill recalled sitting with her parents at church when the Davises came in, Mike and Janet leading, sometimes carrying Tim and Lizzie, with Donna, Kristen, Chris, Mark, and Adam following behind like little red-headed ducks.

The guy at the entry point checked their tickets, noted the number in the party, then waved them on. By the time he got to Lizzie, his hand was probably cramping. “Another Davis? How many of you are there?”

“We’re the last of the bunch. And there’s only two in the Davis-Henry family.” She let out a chuckle. “Well, there are two more, but they’d be terrible on a tube. Real scaredy cats.” She leaned over and said in a stage-whisper, “See what I did there? Scaredy cats.”

“You are a clever, clever woman,” Jill agreed. She took the pass from Lizzie and looked at it for a minute. Seeing their names together, as a family, warmed her heart more than any gift could have. They didn’t even need to use the darned thing, though they definitely would. It wasn’t the gift itself that was so cool. It was being considered a family of their own as well as members of the larger group that gave her chills. She zipped the pass into her jacket pocket, already thinking of what she’d do with it at the end of the season. Maybe she’d get a cork board for the rear entryway. Then they could save each pass and look back on them years from now, spending a moment recalling this visit to the Ponds. Their first as a family.

They’d brought their skis, both anxious to get out on the trails and test the fresh powder. Nearly everyone else was going to go tubing, but Jill and Lizzie took off after Donna’s oldest boys.

They both preferred skate-skiing to the classic style, so they were able to stay side-by-side as they started off from the warming house. Donna’s kids were racing one another, and they disappeared around the first curve and were never seen again. Jill didn’t mind. Skiing with Lizzie, out in the clear, cold sun, the wooded terrain shrouded in near silence was way, way up on her list of favorite things to do. Lying on a beach would always be at the top, but the gap was narrowing. Maybe that was because Lizzie seemed to enjoy winter sports a little more, and if Lizzie liked it, it was instantly more fun.

They kept up a brisk pace, their skis cutting across the groomed trail with a rhythmic scratching sound that soon became hypnotizing. They didn’t speak much, their pace keeping them on the edge of breathlessness. But Lizzie would occasionally turn and give Jill a big, sunny smile, clearly enjoying the hell out of the day. After a half hour, Jill was about to beg for mercy. Luckily, that was close to Lizzie’s limit too, and they slowed down substantially. After a few minutes they reached a modest summit, allowing them to look down at the criss-crossing trails, with a few colorfully dressed skiers gliding along below them.