Date: Sat, 17 May 2003 14:02:54 -0700
From: Dan Kirk <dkstories@cox.net>
Subject: Phone Call-It's Never Easy Chapter 9

I woke up to the most wonderful feeling in the world.  James' soft breath
was brushing my face.  I opened my eyes and lost myself immediately in his
gaze.  Who knows how long he'd been awake, but seeing him the first thing
in the morning made this day a good one.

"Hello stranger." He said softly after a few moments.

"Who is this strange man in my bed?" I whispered back, smiling at him.

"The luckiest man in the world." James replied with a smile.

"Can't be." I said, smiling back.  "Cause I'm the luckiest man."

"You guys are worse than a Danielle Steel novel." Nathan's voice
interrupted us from the other side of me.  We both jumped a little, then
all three of us started laughing as Nathan jumped on us in a three-way hug.
When we settled down, Nathan jumped up and left the room.  James sat up in
bed and stared at the door through which Nathan had left, his face showing
a worried frown.

"Is he still having the nightmares?" James asked, concern evident in his
tone.

"Not as much as before." I admitted, running my hands down James' lean
chest.  He'd lost a lot of weight in the last six weeks, and was now little
more than muscle, bone and skin.  All the guys were leaner, but seeing
James like this made me glad this was their last tour.  "So, I've got you
home, and we're alone."

"Yes, you do." James said, leaning into me as I began to nuzzle his neck.
It was my turn to leave him with hickeys.  Too bad for me my plan was
foiled when his lips found my neck and he reminded me of just how good it
felt to have him sucking and nuzzling me there.

Two hours later, we made our way downstairs and into the kitchen.  My
newest PA, Tim, was already there, working with Nathan on some scheduling
issue for me.  Our cook/maid Carmen had a late breakfast ready for us, and
sounds from around the house indicated that the rest of the group was
already awake.  I could hear Manuel's voice booming out from the music room
that doubled as James' office.  He was probably in there with Josh.

The rest of the morning passed quickly.  James and the rest of the guys
were just going to lounge around for the remainder of the day.  I had
meetings at the studio with two writers who were working on future episode
scripts and a meeting with the marketing staff on a video game that we were
negotiating for production.

Dinner was a grand affair, with all of NSYNC and their loved ones finally
together.  Kelly had arrived with Briana, Chris' latest girlfriend had
shown up, and Justin had Brittany there.  Yes, Brittany.  It seemed they
were becoming as on-again off-again as Manuel and Josh were.

Yes, those two were `on' again as well.

Nathan had Keith over that night, but James and I really didn't notice too
much of what was going on around us.  We retired shortly after dinner and
got reacquainted better.  They had a week before they had to be in Orlando
for their final concert rehearsals, then three days before the concert
itself.  It was shaping up to be a very big deal in the music industry, and
a lot of people were going to be there.

I had arranged things with the Studio so that I would take those three
days, plus eight more off from work.  I had the five scripts I was writing
for the second half of filming already completed, and we didn't go into
pre-production until mid-November.  There was only two more episodes left
for post-production, and most of that was waiting on effects from Manuel's
company.

Prince Charles had invited us to join him and the boys in the French Alps
since they were also going to be on vacation.  There'd been a number of
phone calls from him over the last few months and we'd talked about some
problems they were experiencing.  Wills had been bucking the tradition of
going into military service after school and wanted to come to America to
continue his studies.  I'd made my recommendations and had been surprised
to learn that a solution had been reached because of my recommendations.

Their week in LA passed by in another blur.  I spent the rest of it working
my butt off like I had been the last few months, but this was so I could
spend uninterrupted time with my man.  Once we got into Orlando, and James
started rehearsing with the guys for the final concert, it was my turn to
be bored with nothing to do.

I wish.  Nathan hadn't been to Disney World for months.  He also insisted
that we drive by the hospital where he'd been held.  Tears crept down our
faces as we drove slowly by, but I could hear him let out a long sigh.  I
put my hand on his arm, and he just smiled at me.

"It's over." He said softly, and I knew he'd finally put those memories
down for good.  From that point on, he almost never crawled into bed with
us, and seemed generally happier.  It started to feel like he was healing
at last.

NSYNC's last concert went off perfectly in front of a sold-out crowd.
Behind the scenes, and in the private suites that ringed the venue,
celebrities of all types were rubbing shoulders and the after-concert party
at a local club was packed with them.  James and I endured the parties.
Around three in the morning, we left for our hotel (James had long since
sold the house here...and the cars).  The next morning, we were boarding
the small GV jet that had been sent for us.  As the plane took off, I
couldn't help but pull a joke.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed as the jet achieved flight.

"What's wrong?" James asked from his perch next to me.  Nathan just looked
over at us quizzically.

"I forgot our passports!" I exclaimed, shuddering for effect.

"HOW COULD YOU!" James yelled, then punched the intercom for the pilots,
getting ready to tell them to turn around.  Nathan just snapped a picture
of James' terror filled face.

"Too bad Ashton doesn't have his cameras here." I stated smugly.  James
looked at me like he was going to kill me, then whispered into my ear that
we wouldn't be rejoining the mile-high club this trip.

He was lying.

We landed in Lyon and a customs inspector boarded the plane to politely
stamp our admittance into the European Union.  Then we boarded another
Rolls Royce limo that took us into the mountains.  Nathan was staring out
at the beautiful mountainside.  I just sat there holding James' hand and
staring at him.  We'd been back with each other for ten days, but it still
felt like ten minutes.  We'd both changed in the intervening time, and I
wondered if those changes were going to cause problems for us.

My mother always said I was always looking to borrow trouble.

After a few hours, we arrived at the mountain resort and were greeted by
Prince Charles and his two sons.  William and Harry dragged Nathan off for
some clandestine activities (I think they were planning some prank), while
Prince Charles and Lady Camilla invited us to tea.  Yes, Lady Camilla was
there, and no, there was no animosity between her and the boys.  They'd
gotten over that a while ago.

The week there in the mountains passed wonderfully.  Horseback riding was
fun, and the brits got a good laugh at the silly Americans trying to learn
how to play polo.  We got a good laugh at trying to teach them American
basketball.  Lady Camilla laughed heartily at our three on three game.
Prince Charles was mildly put out when I managed to out-shoot him with the
shotgun when we went skeet shooting.

He took a pass on the hunting.  Something about being embarrassed enough as
it was. I tried to pass it off as no big deal.  After all, he'd never tried
skeet shooting from the fantail of a ship at sea.

Our final day there, Prince Charles asked me the question I'd been
half-expecting since we arrived.  James and I had joined Camilla and him
for afternoon tea in what had become our habit during the day.

"As you know, William and I reached an agreement on his military service."
He said with some gravity.  I knew this was going to be serious.

"Yes." I replied. "He agreed to serve in the Active Reserves.  If I recall
correctly, he already finished his initial training and initial month
tour."

"Precisely." Charles replied.  "We also agreed about him going to school in
America. He will be attending the University of Southern California."

"In our neck of the woods!" James exclaimed.

"Yes." Charles said.  "He will be fulfilling his service requirements three
days a month as a junior attaché to the U.S. Navy command in San Diego.
It is his housing situation that I'm most concerned about."

"Really?" I asked, already figuring out what the question was going to be,
and I was glad that James and I had discussed this possibility.

"William would not be able to live in the on-campus housing for graduate
students.  There are simply far too many security issues there.  Likewise,
any modest facility we have looked at so far has been less than ideal from
a security point of view."

"We would be glad to offer our home." James said, giving him the answer to
the question he was building up towards asking.  We'd come to know the good
Prince very well, and he could be somewhat long-winded when asking
questions he didn't already know the answer to.  He let out a long sigh as
James indicated our acceptance.

"I do hope you would not be to put upon by having him at your home."
Charles said with a soft smile.  "You do understand that there will need to
be a security detail and servants?"

"Of course." I answered this question.  "We already have a part time maid,
and would be able to increase her to full-time if it was necessary.  There
are also two servant's quarters on the first floor that are unused, and a
small guesthouse out back.  We have a room that can be used as a security
room, and the house is already wired for cameras from the taping that David
Furnish did earlier this year."

"You have thought this through?" Lady Camilla asked.

"Yes, we thought this might be one of the solutions you found when you
agreed to Wills spending time in America." James said.

"Unless you'd prefer to send him to live with Fergie." I joked.  That got a
chuckle from both of them.

"I'd rather not." Charles said, his lips lightly turned up.

"We would be happy for him to stay with us." James said again.  "He and
Nathan get along quite well.  There's a large bedroom at the other end from
ours that he would be more than welcome to have, and that would give him a
fair amount of privacy.  So long as he warns us before bringing more than a
few friends over, and asks before throwing any parties, we don't foresee to
many problems.  We'll give him plenty of room, but also be there if he
needs some friends around."

"I do believe that we have reached an agreement." Charles said, smiling.
"I will have Wills' security chief contact you on arrangement for their
arrival and set-up.  I do believe we shall send two staff with him.  A
butler/personal assistant and a cook that will assist your housekeeper as
well.  Would that be acceptable?"

"Of course." James said.

"We will also have our staff contact you regarding appropriate
remuneration." Charles continued.

"Nonsense." I said.  "He is a friend of our family.  You haven't charged us
for the accommodations here, and you never charged us for the
accommodations in Scotland, or for the private plane flight here.  Friends
help each other out, and do not expect payment in return.  Cover the costs
of William's schooling, his staff, and his daily expenses, but do not
expect us to charge you or him for putting a roof over his head."

"Thank you." Charles said, smiling.  "Besides, we needed to send a private
plane justin case you forgot your passports again."

"Bloody hell." I murmured, blushing, as they joined James in quiet laughter
at me.  Charles rang a bell and instructed one of the servants to summon
the boys.  William seemed truly happy at the arrangement, and promised to
be a good boarder.  I reminded him he was an adult friend when he moved
into our home and not a `boarder'.  I also told him we'd talk more after
he'd arrived about other...things.  Harry looked despondent, until he
secured a promise from us that he could visit for a few months after he
completed his active duty service.

Unlike Wills, Harry looked forward to military service and was going into
the British Army instead of going to school. I think that was one reason
why Prince Charles had reached a compromise with his older son.  Active
reserve allowed Wills to fulfill the requirements of tradition while still
maintaining his personal goals.

Remember, a good compromise is where neither side gets something they want,
but neither side is really happy about the deal.  Charles would have
preferred Wills go through the full Active Duty service regime, while Wills
preferred none at all.  Neither got what they wanted, but then again
neither was totally disappointed.

Over dinner that night, we discussed more specifics.  William would be
arriving in three weeks, just about halfway through November.  He would fly
back to London for Christmas, then return again before the New Year.  His
schooling would begin in the Spring semester with limited classes.

That was when I realized he'd be living with us for three years.  I hadn't
really thought that all the way through before, but it was too late now.
It was after a slight lull in the conversation that Camilla asked a
question that took us by surprise.

"So, when will the two of you be having your wedding ceremony?" she asked
us.  I choked on the sip of wine I'd just taken, and James was blushing.

"We forgot." We both said in unison, then blushed some more.

"You forgot your own wedding?!" She asked, her voice full of surprise.  Her
next words, uttered in an exasperated tone set everybody laughing.  "MEN!"

"We've been so busy the last few months there hasn't been time to plan
things out." James said after we recovered from our laughing fit.

"Well!" Camilla said.  "You have heard about the recognition of same-sex
marriages in Canada haven't you?"

"To be honest, I haven't been keeping track of that." I admitted, and James
nodded in agreement.

"The Commonwealth now legally recognizes same-sex marriages the same as
regular unions." Prince Charles said, smiling.

"Looks like we've figured out WHERE our wedding's going to be." James said
with a chuckle.  "Now we just have to figure out when and then plan things
out."

"Let's talk to my grandmothers." I said with a smirk.  "I'm sure they'll be
happy to plan everything for us."

"Be sure we are on the invitation list." Charles said with a smile.  "We
would not want to miss the most controversial wedding in American history."

"Or would that be Canadian history?" I asked, and we all laughed.  The rest
of the evening passed in mild conversation about William's timetable for
moving out to California, his planned course of graduate studies, and
Harry's plans to be an Army officer.  He apparently wanted to be a tank
commander.

I couldn't bear to tell him British tanks sucked compared to the M1-A2, but
he saw the look on my face.

That night, James and I were standing on the balcony of our suite, kissing
in the moonlight when I noticed something flashing in the distance.  I got
out a pair of binoculars and looked in that direction to find a
photographer with a night-scope telephoto lens pointed at our balcony.

I called the security line and told them I thought I saw something that
looked like a night scope in the distance.  Sure we went into security
lockdown, but the sight of the reporter being led away in handcuffs was
well worth being kept inside with a guard for thirty minutes.

Prince Charles agreed when he came down the hall and handed me a roll of
exposed film.

The flight back home was in another GV, with the customary stop in Boston
for more fuel.  Nathan spent the first half of the trip bouncing around the
plane telling us all about the things he'd done with Harry and Wills, and
how excited he was that Wills was coming out to live with us.  Harry and
Nathan were good friends now, and didn't fool around with each other.

Or at least they didn't do anything that Nathan would admit.

The second half of the journey was a lot quieter as I'd given Nathan a
sleeping pill.  Okay, yell at me all you want, but I needed the quiet
before I pitched him out the door.  Besides, James was feeling frisky and
wanted to use the back cabin.  Nathan always gave us a ribbing when we were
too obvious about things.

The plane landed in LA a few hours after we'd left (or at least that's what
the watch set back to local time said, but in actuality 14 hours had
passed).  Manuel was waiting in the private terminal for us with a very
grim expression on his face.  He smiled slightly as Nathan bounded up to
him and gave him a hug.

Manuel hated hugs, so Nathan always gave him a big one.

"Dave." Manuel said after greeting me with a handshake.  "I'm sorry but
your grandfather passed away last night."

I sat down hard right there on the floor.  Death in my family always hits
me hard.  I remember so vividly learning of my mother's death.  Mom had
been in a coma for a week after not waking up one morning.  I'd found her
and did CPR till the paramedics got there.  My Nanny had flown out
immediately, and we'd managed to get my sister out as well.  I'd kept
working at my job while Mom was in the coma, then on a Friday, my sister
met me at work to tell me Mom had passed away the night before.

I was also at work when my Dad's second wife called to tell me he'd passed
away six months later.  I was home for lunch when Aunt Carol had called to
tell me Aunt Bev was dead.  Now, the only grandfather I'd known since I was
five was dead as well.

Nanny and Papa had been married for over fifty years.  It was both of
their's second marriage and they eight children between them from the first
marriage, and no children from their second.  However, most of us grandkids
didn't know they weren't both our grandparents until we got older and could
understand things that were discussed at the adult table.  They loved us
all and treated us all equally.

They both hated the "Grand" in grandmother or grandfather, so we always
called them Nanny and Papa.  My mom had been their youngest child, and the
second of them to die (Aunt Fern was killed many years ago by her
ex-husband).  About eight years ago, Papa had been diagnosed with
Alzheimer's and had spent the last year in a long-term care facility.

He was 87.

All this passed through my mind as I sat there, and felt James' arms around
me.  Manuel even unbent enough to put a hand on my shoulder.  I really felt
comforted by that small display of affection from him.  Nathan just stood
there looking sad.  He knew Nanny, but Papa had been in the facility before
he came to live with me.

"I need to get a flight up there." I said after a moment.

"I've got three tickets on the next United flight to San Francisco and then
three tickets on the shuttle to Modesto." Manuel said, holding them out to
us.  James went to the porter who had our luggage and told him to take them
to the terminal.  I was in a daze as he led me through the airport to the
United terminal and we waited in the VIP lounge.  Manuel had brought our
cell phones with him, and I turned mine on and found that Nanny's phone was
busy.  Before I knew it, we were being boarded onto the plane and James was
sitting next to me, holding my hand.

If there was any blessing in our coming out, it was this moment where he
held my hand in public without worrying about exposure.

As the plane lifted off for the short hop up the coast, I told James and
Nathan's funny stories of my Papa.  How, when we were little, my cousin
Shantill and I would wear his t-shirts as pajamas.  James announced that
he'd love to see the pictures Nanny had of that.  Nathan laughed at how
excited we were the time he gave Shantill and I each a dollar.

Papa always was stingy.  None of the other 19 grandchildren got more than a
quarter from him.

In San Francisco, we rushed from the United main terminal to the Express
terminal and boarded the little turboprop that would take us to Modesto
within twenty minutes.  Poor Nathan, this was the smallest plane he'd been
on.  There was no first class on this small plane, and we were seated near
the middle.  Sure enough, two young teenage girls recognized James.  Their
squeals throughout the flight were definitely annoying.  What was worse was
the sci-fi buff who sat in front of us and spent the entire flight trying
to tell me every little inconsistency in my show and all the `bad science'
it had in it.

No, I didn't say what I was thinking and remind him IT WAS ONLY A FUCKING
T.V. SHOW!  I wanted him to continue watching it, not declare to the world
I was a rude jerk. James was so lucky. I'd prefer the squealing.  Nathan
just sat across from us laughing his head off.

Of course he wasn't being pestered yet.  Wait till Nanny and Grandma got to
him.  Then I'D be the one laughing.

We got off the plane and got our luggage (miracles of miracles it was all
there!).  As we made our way through Modesto's diminutive terminal, we saw
a uniformed driver with a card that said `Young-Bass'.  James jabbed me in
the side and said that would be our name when we got married.  He liked his
name being last.

Yes, he'd get his way.

We piled into the stretch limo and I silently cursed Manuel for arranging
this vehicle.  Of course it probably it wasn't him, but rather the PA, Tim.
Or was the new one's name Tom?  I don't know.  We go through PA's every few
months and I always get their names confused.

Modesto, home sweet home.  As the limo pulled out of the airport and onto
Mitchell Road, I let out a long sigh.  For a small (230,000) once rural
farming community, Modesto sure had a lot of news coming from inside its
borders.  Lacy Peterson, the Stainer killer, Gary Condit, and of course the
most favorite native George Lucas.  Modesto could now claim they had two
great sci-fi directors come from that town.

Maybe that's because we grew up dreaming about nothing except escaping the
damn place.  The limo pulled across the bridge spanning the Dry Creek River
and entered into Ceres, the small city to the south of Modesto that my
grandmothers lived in.  A few turns later and we were pulling through the
intersection where my Aunt Bev had been rear-ended by a cement truck and
crippled for the rest of her life.  I idly pointed that out to James and
Nathan who'd had to endure my constant stories about my favorite aunt.

A few moments later, we were pulling up in front of Nanny's house.  The
dozen or so cars parked around it did not surprise me.  What did was the
way it looked so...run down.  The rose bushes were overgrown, the main
bedroom window was open, with no curtain covering it, and the hedges along
the walkway were unkempt.  There was a small crowd of cousins smoking on
the edge of the lawn near the street, and I idly noticed the Uncle Billy
had started smoking again as well.  They all stared as the driver opened
the door and I got out, followed by James and Nathan.  I told the driver
we'd be leaving our bags in the car for now and he nodded, handing me a
card with his mobile number on it.  We'd call him when we figured out where
we would be staying (I wasn't even sure yet).

Uncle Billy walked over towards me as I led James and Nathan towards the
house.  The group of about eight cousins had gone quiet as we approached.
From the way Billy walked towards me, I got a sinking feeling in my
stomach.  Billy was shorter than me, about 5'10" with graying dark hair and
a slight paunch.  He'd been in the Air Force for 30 years and had retired
as a very senior enlisted man.  Except for Nanny, I had not spoken to
anyone on this side of the family in about 2 years.  I hadn't spoken to
Billy since shortly after my mother's funeral.

"What are you doing here?" He asked me gruffly as we approached, not even
bothering with any pleasantries.

"Same thing you are." I replied frostily.  I could tell everyone's ears had
perked up.

"Well, go back to your home in LA.  You're not welcome here." Billy said,
and I almost couldn't believe my ears.  Of all my uncles, Billy had been my
favorite growing up.  I'd even spent the summer at his house in Sacramento
when I was 11, and it had been one of the best summers of my childhood
(despite his bitch of a wife and slutty step-daughters).  I had always had
a great deal of respect for this man.

So much respect I never told him how his daughter had tried to get me to
sleep with her.

"Out of the respect I use to have for you, I'm not going to acknowledge
that statement." I said slowly, staring into his eyes.  "I'm going inside
and talking to my Nanny.  Then we'll grieve over losing Papa."

"She doesn't want to see you." Billy said.  "And why should you grieve, he
wasn't even your real grandfather."

"Billy, you're wrong on both counts." I said slowly, keeping a tight reign
on my anger.  I resisted the urge to deck the bastard.  "Papa was the only
grandfather I knew growing up, and Nanny does want to see me.  She called
the house in LA and my best friend was waiting for us when our plane
landed.  We immediately hopped on another flight here.  Now, I've been in
the air for over 15 hours and I have no desire to get into a fight with you
now."

"I don't care how long you've been in the air, you are not going in." Billy
growled, shifting his stance like he was preparing to fight.  "Mom doesn't
want a faggot in her home any more than she'd let Tiffany's half-nigger
daughter inside."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." I growled, ashamed that James
and Nathan were finding out just how bigoted my family was.  I started to
move past Billy and head up to the house when he grabbed my arm.  Before
anyone moved more than an inch, a third arm reached out and pulled Billy's
off of me.  I looked up and saw Uncle Junior, Papa's oldest son holding his
brother's arm.

"Let him go inside." Uncle Junior said.  He hadn't changed much in the last
few years.  He was shorter than Billy, a little more bald and a little more
fat, but still very sturdy.  Billy backed down and I nodded my thanks to my
older uncle.  I walked up to the door and found it was unlocked, so I went
inside.

The kitchen was to the immediate right of the door.  The familiar smell of
Nanny's cooking permeated the house, and I turned towards the kitchen and
took in a sight that had been all too rare of the last few years.  Nanny
stood over the stove, frying up some chicken for dinner (I noticed with a
corner of my mind that the light outside had placed the time somewhere in
the later part of the evening.)  Aunt Priscilla's tall, lean frame was
washing some dishes in the sink while Aunt Fran's shorter, but still lean
frame was checking the oven right next to the door.  Aunt Fran was still
very tanned, as she had been ever since moving to Hawaii ten years ago.
She straightened up as the door opened and immediately gave me a hug, and
then smiled as I introduced James and Nathan, giving them hugs as well.
Nanny smiled when she saw us and motioned me over for a hug while she
continued cooking.

"You made it!" She said in a glad tone.  "Manuel said you lot were coming
back from France.  How was the vacation with the Royals?"

"Good, good." I said as I hugged her.  Her frame was even leaner than it
had been the last time I saw her.  "Manuel met us at the airport and we
immediately took the next flight up."

"I'm glad you could be here." She said, her eyes watering.  Aunt Priscilla
just stared as Nanny gave James and Nathan a hug.  After she'd greeted
them, she ordered James and Nathan to the table and told Aunt Priscilla to
get them something to drink.  I entered the dining area just off of the
kitchen and was immediately uncomfortable.  Seated at the table was Paula
(Billy's wife), Kathy (Junior's wife), Aunt Chris and her husband Phil (the
tallest member of the family at 7'3" and a Missionary Baptist preacher),
Priscilla's husband Bobby (a big, fat, Mexican biker with a long history of
convictions and a parolee for 2nd degree involuntary manslaughter).
Priscilla's three oldest kids, two of whom were still wanted for welfare
fraud in California were also seated there, and down in the family room I
could see a few more cousins on the couches, and about ten
great-grandchildren of varying ages playing.

The house hadn't been this full since my mom died.  It use to be like this
every holiday, but now it seemed like the only time people were here was
when someone died.  As I introduced James and Nathan to the people around
the table, Aunt Priscilla brought a drink over.

"So, you just returned from France?" My Uncle Phil said, his lips curling a
little in distaste at having to talk to us.

"Yes," James said with a smile, sipping at the ice tea he'd been giving.
"I just finished with my World Tour, and Davey finished the latest batch of
episodes, so we were able to accept Charles' offer of a week in the French
Alps.  I must say it was quite relaxing.  I just wish that we returned to
happier circumstances."

"Who is Charles?" Tracy asked.  She was Priscilla's oldest daughter and was
one of the cousins wanted for welfare fraud.

"Oh, Prince Charles of England." James said in an offhand manner, and her
eyes went wide.  I could see from the faces of the others that several of
them had apparently been following our stories in the papers.

"Why would royalty want to hang out with Davey?" Priscilla's other
daughter, Heather asked in a condescending tone.  We'd never gotten along
ever since she was a teenager and I was a little kid who tried to follow
her around.

"Sympathy?" Aunt Paula said with a sneer.  I'd never really liked her
caustic mouth.  She was the reason I usually had witty comebacks and a very
sarcastic side.  You either developed one around her or she burned you bad.

"Naw, he was just trying to get us to let William stay with us while he
goes to USC." Nathan sneered back at her.  Okay, I'd have to have a talk
with him later.  That wasn't supposed to be common knowledge yet.

"Nathan." I said in a warning tone.  "Be polite to your elders."

"Yes, sir." Nathan said.

"Well at least you keep him in line." Uncle Phil said with a distasteful
tone.

"Yes, well, you know how bad jet lag can be on the return trip from
Europe." I said.

"Not really," Tracy said, her tone jealous.  "Some of us have never been
there.  I guess we didn't sleep with the right people."

"Or you just had too many warrants out for your arrest." I snapped back,
instantly regretting my words as she raised up in her chair and opened her
mouth to let out a tirade.

"Dinner's just about ready." Nanny said, bringing a plate of fried chicken
over.  After that, the conversation became much more polite and civil with
her at the table.  I was amazed at how...boring their lives were, and how
little they'd ever achieved of their dreams.  I'd grown up around them and
remembered their different aspirations and dreams from childhood, and very
few had ever made any progress towards them.

You want to know the reason why?  Drugs and alcohol. Almost every single
one of my cousins had abused drugs and alcohol as teenagers and young
adults, just like I had.  Unfortunately for most of them, they didn't stop
like I did, most didn't stop until their early thirties.

Now they were stuck in low paying jobs without a college education.  Their
only balm was religion, which helped them to feel superior in some ways to
non-believers. That's why they were all Baptists.  You could tell they
looked down on James and I, and pitied Nathan.  I didn't tell him that
Uncle Phil was suspected to have some involvement with rehab centers like
the one he'd been held at.  With Nanny's presence, the conversation
remained polite.

She may be 85 years old, but Nanny was not a stupid woman.  After everyone
else had answered her questions about their lives, she started asking
James, Nathan and I about ours.  Her questions were detailed, like asking
James about a problem that had occurred on the tour with one of their sound
technicians, asking Nathan about a report his tutor had him write on the
Great Depression (Nanny was one of his primary sources of information for
the report as she'd lived through it.), and asking me about some problems
with the production of the series.  Then she asked about details of our
visit to France.  Her questions revealed just how well acquainted she was
with us and our daily lives.

"Mother, how do you know so much about them?" Aunt Chris asked after Nanny
had wound down and most of the food on the table was gone.

"Oh, they call me or I call them a couple times a week." Nanny replied
offhandedly.  "Unlike most of my grandchildren, or children, they've kept
me a part of their lives.  Now we just need to get them married like decent
folk."

"MOTHER!" Aunt Chris nearly shrieked while her husband's face turned almost
apoplectic.  He soon found his voice, though.

"You can't seriously be supportive of this deviant's lifestyle!" He nearly
roared in his best hellfire and brimstone preaching voice.  Nathan visibly
paled, and James put his arm around him protectively.

"I won't have you calling my grandson a deviant!" Nanny retorted, slapping
the table angrily.  "He works hard, is raising a fine young man, and James
is the most wonderful young man I've met in a long time!  I'll not have you
insult them under my own roof!"

"You can't possibly mean you're accepting of this faggot's lifestyle!" Aunt
Paula screeched.  I noticed vaguely that we now had about fifteen cousins,
and another ten younger kids all staring at the confrontation going on at
the table.

"Yes, I am." Nanny said firmly, staring her daughter-in-law down.

"I can't believe this!" Phil roared in his preacher's voice. "For forty
years we've sat around this table and heard you talk about how you would
never let a nigger, spic, spook, or homosexual in this house, and when your
favorite grandson chooses that lifestyle you change your mind!  You're
risking going to hell with this, Monta."

"Watch your tongue!" Nanny snapped back at him.  "I've said a lot of wrong
things in my life and I'm too damn old to continue hating people just
because they're different.  I was wrong about homosexuals, and that made me
realize I might be wrong about others too.  Fran, I want you to tell
Tiffany that she IS welcome over at my house, as is her husband and her
daughter.  I was wrong to not let them in years ago and if they'll accept
it, I want to apologize to them.  They deserve it."

"I...I'll let her know." My Aunt Fran whispered.  Nanny's refusal to accept
her daughter Tiffany's mixed-race child, or her black husband had long been
a sticky issue between them.  I couldn't help but be extremely proud of
Nanny.  It takes a lot for someone to admit they were wrong, especially
about beliefs they'd held for more than 7 decades.

"I think it's time Davey and his...friends left." Uncle Billy said from
behind us.  He and Junior were now standing in the kitchen staring at what
was going on.

"No." Nanny said firmly, rising from the table to look at them.  "I think
it is time you got your hag of a wife and went to the hotel.  Phil and
Chris can go back to his parents as well.  Davey's staying here with James
and Nathan in the spare bedrooms.  Anyone else needs a place to sleep, they
can find a divan or make up a pallet on the floor."

"I don't think so, mother." Billy said just as firmly.  "I already told you
that we'd be staying here. He can go find someplace else to stay."

"This is still MY house." Nanny said firmly, staring at him sharply.  "So
long as it is my house, I WILL decide who does and does not stay here."

"I already told you, mother," Billy continued, and a sinking feeling grew
in my stomach.  "We have a court order stating that you are too infirm to
make your own decisions and that I and the rest of your kids will be
handling your affairs from now on."

"How dare you?!" Nanny shouted at him, moving as if to strike him.  I stood
and gently put my arms on her shoulder from behind.  She turned and
embraced me tightly.  I'd never seen Nanny cry except at my mom's funeral,
but I could feel her tears soaking into the blue silk shirt I wore.

"I would like to see this court order." I said quietly, staring at my
Uncle.  I wish I could say I was surprised, but I'd known for a while that
as they entered their fifties and sixties, the older kids had started to
despair of ever receiving their inheritance.  With a triumphant smile he
handed a sheaf of papers over to me.  I thumbed through them and then
handed them to James who murmured that they appeared legitimate.  I racked
my brain before realizing it was Friday night.

"Nanny, I'm sorry." I whispered to my frail looking grandmother.  "They
appear to be legitimate."

"Of course they are!" Phil sneered.  "Now I suggest you and your faggot
boys leave immediately."

"No!" Nanny shouted.

"Nanny, would you like to stay at the hotel with us?  We'll be getting a
penthouse suite at the Doubletree."  I asked softly.  James took the hint
and was on his cell phone getting the number and making the reservation
immediately.

"I don't want to leave my house, but I don't want to stay with them." She
said, standing back up straight and glaring at Billy.

"You don't have a choice, mother." Billy said, taking the papers back from
me. "I've been granted authority as your caretaker and you have to do what
I tell you.  You'll stay here until after the funeral Monday and then we'll
get you packed and into a nursing home where you belong."

"I'm not leaving my house!" Nanny nearly shouted.  This was extremely ugly
and I was at a loss for what to say or do.

"Nanny." James spoke softly, putting his arm on her shoulder with a look of
sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry this is happening to you.  I don't think
you are too infirm to make these decisions, but they do have a court order
that has to be obeyed, for now.  Do you want me to hire a lawyer and
challenge this?"

"I can get my own lawyer." Nanny said firmly, glaring at Billy still.

"Well, I know that Davey and I will be happy to help out, and we can get a
real good lawyer from L.A.  I doubt anyone they're able to hire would stand
a chance against him. You've been a big help to us, and to Davey all his
life.  Please let us return the favors you have given us."

"Okay." Nanny said, still glaring at her children.  "I want you to get me a
lawyer that will have them all hanged!"

"You got it." James said, smiling.  "Instead of us being at a hotel, I
think I'll call Grandma Young and see if she has the room for us. It's
right around the corner from what Davey tells me.  You call us there or on
our cell phones if you need us.  We'll be at the viewing tomorrow."

"Good." Nanny said.  "I want the three of you sitting right next to me."

"Billy." I said, walking over to my uncle and staring him deeply in the
eyes.  "You may have won this round, but I'm not letting you do this to my
Nanny.  I will fight on her behalf and you will find out what everyone else
who has faced me in court discovered: I'm a mean son of a bitch.  If you
harm one hair on her, if there's one bruise, one slap, or even people
trying anything that can be construed as mental abuse, she's going to tell
me tomorrow or Sunday at church, or Monday at the Funeral.  If she tells me
anything about treatment like that, the police will be over here in an
instant and all the court orders in the world won't stop them from taking
action against you.  Do you understand me?"

"Don't threaten me, faggot." Billy sneered.  "Get your fancy lawyers, they
won't do you any good.  Now get out!"

We left quietly, a few of my cousins outside coming up to show me their
support.  Quite a few were upset about events, but none of them knew what
they could do.  It was a three minute walk to Grandma Young's house, and
James called the limo to meet us there, and called her to let her know we
were coming.  Naturally she had plenty of room.  Here, too, I noticed the
house was running down, items needing repair remained broken. I also
noticed that Grandma Young looking particularly old as well.  The cousins
that were supposed to be living here with her had taken off last week with
some people they had met and had not been heard from since a snap wedding
in Reno.  Nathan had to hold her down as she almost stomped off to Nanny's
when we told her what was transpiring.  Instead she picked up the phone and
called.  They blocked her call for a few moments, until she threatened to
call the police because they weren't connecting her to her life-long
friend.  They spoke for a while, and Grandma announced that she'd see Nanny
at the viewing tomorrow.

Within an hour, James and I were in bed and passed out, asleep.

The next morning I awoke to the most wonderful smells coming from the
kitchen.  I took a moment and looked around the room I was in, memories
flooding back of having stayed in this room all throughout my childhood.
I'd spent a lot of weekends with Nanny and/or Grandma, and we'd even lived
as a family in both houses when times were rough.  Both Nanny and Grandma
had owned the same homes for longer than I'd been alive, not even their
phone numbers ever changing.

James was already up, and I found him on the phone with his PDA in one hand
and cell phone in the other.  It sounded like he was making arrangement for
a lot of things, including us being up here for at least a week.  I went
over and gave Grandma a hug.  She was stirring my favorite morning dish,
and one that was guaranteed to make me fat if I ate it all the time:
chocolate gravy.

"Here." James said, handing me the phone as I sat down with a cup of
coffee.

"Hello?" I said after taking the phone from him.

"Mr. Young," a strange voice on the line said.  "I'm Joseph Tomlinson, an
attorney that specializes in cases involving the elderly.  Mr. Bass was
referred to me by one of his attorneys.  I have a few questions regarding
your grandmother."

For the next twenty minutes I answered his questions with as many details
as I could.  By that time, Grandma had finished breakfast and was serving
our food.  Nathan had woken and joined us at the table.  I hung up having
been assured that he would take the case.  He'd fly up Wednesday to meet
with Nanny and attempt to get an emergency injunction on Billy's court
order.  I breathed a sigh of relief, until James shared with me what his
other phone calls had been about.

"This is the BEST chocolate gravy, Nina." James enthused after a few
mouthfuls.  "We got your sister and her kids on a flight out here, Davey.
Her husband refused to come and tried to keep the kids there, but his
mother put her foot down and insisted they be allowed to visit their other
grandmothers.  The guys called and they are all coming up to provide moral
support for you and Nanny.  They're actually arriving on the same flight
from San Francisco in about two hours.  The driver will be by to pick us up
so we can meet them at the airport.  Your Uncle Billy called and said that
your Nanny is refusing to go to the viewing unless we take her, so he wants
us by there at 11:00 a.m.  We should have enough time to make everything."

"You forgot shopping." I said around a mouthful of sausage, eggs, biscuit,
and chocolate gravy.  "Last time April came out, she only had ratty clothes
for her and the kids.  I want them to appear sharp.  Plus, I want to get
Grandma a new outfit."

"Me?" Grandma said, looking confused.

"I'd like you to run around with us, and I know Nanny would appreciate you
being there." I said.

"Okay, I'll go." Grandma replied with a smile.

"Fine," I said with a smile.  When breakfast was over, James and Nathan
helped with the dishes while I made some phone calls of my own.  I even
called over to Nanny's and spoke with a much more civil Uncle Billy.  That
was when I found out about Papa's wishes for his funeral.  It's a good
thing I did because I had to go digging through the boxes in the storage
shed out back for some clothes to comply with Papa's last requests.  Billy
was very grudging about making the concessions to honor Papa's requests,
but Junior and Nanny had made it clear they would not attend if he didn't.
I also had a chat with him about transportation.  He agreed that it would
look bad for us to arrive at the funeral in a limo by ourselves, so I
offered to hire a fleet of them to pick up all the relatives and take them
to the funeral home, cemetery, and wake.  He agreed very grudgingly.

Yes, EVERYONE in my Nanny's side of the family is stubborn.  Very stubborn.
Some of us have still refused to give up our positions on who was
responsible for the soccer ball that broke Nanny's bedroom 24 years ago.  I
still blame it on Josh, he blames it on me.  We've been known to fight over
it as recently as two years ago.

Nanny still blamed cousin Chris for it, even though he wasn't there at the
time.

The limo showed up an hour later, and the four of us were dressed and ready
for the day.  James, Nathan, and I all wore dark Armani suits that were
well tailored to our builds while Grandma wore a very nice black velvet
dress.  The three of us had our matching shades on, and Grandma wore her
tinted glasses.  We helped her into the limo, and I gave immediate
directions to the new driver.

Moments later, I was dropping off a bundle of clothing to a 1-hour cleaner.
They'd have it done in time and we even paid for it be delivered back to
Grandma's.  Then we went to a floral shop and I bought six huge bouquets of
flowers.  Our next stop after that was the Ceres Cemetery.  We briefly
visited Grandpa Young who had died in 1975.  Great-Grandma Keener who had
died in 1996, Aunt Fern (1991), Aunt Bev (2002), my Dad (2000) and my
mother (1999), leaving a bouquet on each gravestone.  Grandma was crying,
as was I when we re-entered the limo.  There'd probably be at least one
more trip out here with my sister, but I wanted all my family who came out
here to see the flowers.

We got to the airport just as the plane was landing.  In fact, it flew over
us as we were on the bridge that connected Modesto and Ceres across the Dry
Creek River.  We barely beat them to the terminal.  At first I didn't think
April would have known the guys since they'd never met, but I forgot that
Manuel was also on the plane.  He'd introduced everyone already and was
even holding my sister's two youngest children as she rushed over to hug
me.

Her oldest son, Tyler, wrapped himself excitedly around my knee.  At 7 he
was a tall boy and his blond hair and blue eyes declared him a part of our
family.  Kalianne, her oldest daughter also rushed over to me.  At five she
was also tall for her age, and her impish grin as she hugged my leg
reminded me of April at her age.  Tyler and Kali both demanded that I pick
them up, and I realized that the two years since I'd last seen them had
been too long.

They were also very heavy.  Jordan, her brown haired four-year old jumped
from Manuel's arms and stared at me curiously while Cindy, the two-year old
stayed with Manuel and stared at all of us.  I introduced her, and the kids
to James and Nathan, and everyone started hugging everyone else.  Grandma
caught up to us at that point and joined in on the introductions.
Meanwhile Chris, Justin, Joey, and Josh all managed to grab everyone's
luggage and laughed as Tyler started telling us all about his flight out
here.  Kali couldn't help but babble on over her brother about the exciting
things she saw as well.

"Whose big car is that?" Tyler exclaimed as we approached the limo and the
driver helped the guys with the luggage.

"We rented it for all of us." I told Tyler and his eyes got wide.  As we
all climbed inside, the four kids spent time climbing over everyone, much
to the enjoyment of the guys.  Grandma was just smiling as Cindy crawled
into her lap and fell asleep before we'd made it halfway to the freeway.

"Joey, where's Briana and Kelly?" I asked as the other kids finally calmed
down.  Now they were staring out the window as the limo merged onto the
freeway.

"They'll be up tomorrow." Joey said, smiling as Jordan climbed up into his
lap and studied his hair.  He'd colored it again, this time he had vibrant
blue tips.  Justin was now the focus of Tyler's attention as he stared at
the young singer.

"I saw you on T.V." Tyler said at last to Justin.  "Jenny in class said you
were a stud."

Everyone broke up in laughter at the concept of a seven-year old calling
Justin a stud.  I swear the guy was blushing a bright red.  Tyler came back
towards me and crawled into my lap, resting his head against my chest.
Before I knew it, he was asleep as well.  Kali had claimed Nathan's lap and
Jordan was in April's.  The limo got real quiet until we entered the
parking lot of the local mall.  It had been built during the late
seventies/early eighties but was renovated a few years ago.  The guys
groaned, but joined us in getting out.

Unlike many of the malls they were use to, there was no Nieman-Marcus or
Dillards.  We had to settle for Macy's.  The kids were awake, and I was
having them fitted for suits as well as a less formal slacks, white shirts
and ties.  The girls were with April and Grandma.  Joey, Chris, and Justin
had joined them to help them pick out some new clothes while Josh and James
stayed with Nathan and I.  The sales clerk was saying there was no way the
suits could be hemmed in time for Monday morning, but the three hundred
dollars I plunked down on the table changed his mind.

Once we got the new outfits, make-up, and other items for the girls, April
and Grandma included the total bill was well over $1,000.  April's eyes
bugged out as I gave the clerk a credit card and herded everyone back to
the limo.  The boys were now dressed in their slacks, dress shirts and
ties.  When we got to Nanny's, the NSYNCers would have to change along with
Manuel.

This time there weren't as many cars in front of the house as the limo
pulled up.  Nanny had the door open before we were halfway up the walkway,
rushing us inside.  I showed the guys where to change and then came back
into the dining room to find Nanny trying to get the kids to eat.  April
went off to change as well into one of her new outfits, and to get the
girls dressed as well.

Grandma and Nanny both disappeared, leaving me to take care of Tyler,
Jordan, and of course James and Nathan.  That was when I noticed a couple
of other kids making their way up into the dining room, staring at my two
nephews.  When I nodded that it was okay, Tyler and Jordan rushed over to
them, making friends with their distant relatives immediately.  That was
when I noticed that Whitney was here as well.

No, not Whitney Houston.  Whitney Culpepper, my cousin Shantill's daughter.
She was eighteen now, and seeing her standing there made me feel suddenly
old.  I remembered changing her diapers for Christ's sake!  She was staring
at James hard.

"You really are dating NSYNC." She murmured to me, a soft smile on her
face. I remembered seeing her room a few years ago filled with NSYNC
posters.

"Naw, just one of them.  Chris is too much of a dufus for me." I said,
trying to get her to relax a little.

"I heard that you overgrown walking carpet." Chris said, coming into the
room in the middle of the process of tying his tie.

"Okay, Princess Leia." I said, immediately placing his quote.  "Chris, this
is my cousin's daughter, Whitney.  Whitney this is Chris and James."

"Oh, wow." Is all she got out as the rest of the guys came into the room in
various stages of completion in dressing with their suits.  "I never
thought I'd ever get to see you guys in person.  Dave wouldn't take me to
see your concert."

They all glared at me.

"Hey!" I exclaimed before they killed me.  "It was either her or Manuel."

"And I would have hurt him a hell of a lot more." Manuel growled.  That got
a chuckle from everyone.

"Dave," Whitney said after a moment.  "Can I ride with you and Nanny?"

"Sure." I agreed immediately.  She'd lived with Nanny and Papa until going
to college this last year.  For all intents and purposes, THEY were her
parents more than her mom had ever been.

The next ten minutes passed by in a blur as my cousins got their kids
ready.  This morning most of the cousins there were from my Nanny's
daughters.  Chris, the first guy I'd ever slept with, was there looking
decent.  That meant he was still off of heroin.  Josh was there with his
wife and their two daughters.  Tiffany was there as well, with her husband
and their daughter.  Shantill was there also with her husband and the two
kids from that marriage.  Most of the kids were between three and ten,
fitting in well with my sister's four.  Shantill was Fran's oldest child by
her first husband, Chris was Fran's second child by her second husband,
Josh and Tiffany were her younger children by Fran's third husband.

Yes, this side of the family is VERY complicated.  Aunt Priscilla had 6
kids by two husbands, Fran four by three husbands, Junior and Kathy had
raised Aunt Fern's three kids (after my mom flew to Georgia and picked them
up from where Fern had them living in squalor), Aunt Chris and Uncle Phil
had three children (all sharing their father's height), Billy had two
step-daughters through his marriage with Paula.  Mom had produced April and
I.  There were two more kids by Papa, but they were never discussed and I'd
only met one child of theirs many years ago as a teenager.  Both girls had
married black men and were severed from the family.

I wondered if Nanny would ever try to make amends with them.

The limo was crowded now as Nanny, Grandma, April and her four kids,
Whitney, Joey, Justin, Chris, Josh, Manuel, James, Nathan and I climbed
inside.  The mood was somber as Nanny sat with Whitney on one side and me
on the other.  Her hand had grabbed my arm, just like when we went to my
Mom's funeral and I wondered if she would leave bruises again.

Yes, she's 85.  You still don't want her to hit you.  She worked in a
cannery for 20 years and is strong as can be.  Don't mess with her.  She's
ten times worse than I can ever dream of being.

As we neared the funeral home where the viewing was to take place, Nanny
turned to James and the others with a pensive look on her face.  It seemed
she wanted to ask them something, but was having trouble deciding whether
to ask or be quiet.  She finally decided to ask.

"Would you boys be offended if I asked you sing at the burial on Monday?"
She said quietly.  "We were going to have them play a tape of `Amazing
Grace' at the graveside, but I think it would be better if someone sung
it."

"We'd be honored." Chris said seriously, and everyone nodded their heads.
She smiled at them briefly, told them `thanks' and the quiet resumed.  When
we pulled into the funeral home, Uncle Billy rushed over to open the door
and offered his hand to Nanny to help her out.  The driver had opened the
opposite door and I got out.  The driver's eyes warned me and I turned to
find Nanny attempting to follow me.  She did take the hand I offered her.

That was when I heard the cameras whirring and clicking.

I cast a guarded look in the direction of the noise and sighed in relief.
It was just two photographers, and they looked local.  No television
cameras, no news vans, no crowds of reporters.  I briefly smiled in their
direction and escorted Nanny inside.  Billy insisted on walking at her
other side.  She pointedly ignored him, but responded politely to his
comments.

The viewing was taking place upstairs.  I must say that I was quite
impressed when we walked into the long room with the casket farther
down. The walls were covered in floral arrangements on stands.  Nanny's
grip on my arm tightened through the suit coat and she pulled it forward, a
silent indicator to go to the casket.

The bottom half was closed, with an American flag draped over it in
painstaking precision.  Papa was inside, dressed in his Army uniform,
complete with the Silver Star, Bronze Star, and three Purple Hearts.  He'd
wanted to be buried in uniform, and his wishes were being honored.

We stood there for a good thirty minutes, not moving as Nanny talked.  She
talked of the first time she had met him, she talked of their courtship,
their marriage.  Their first home, their final move into the home they had
lived in for forty odd years.  She talked about the kids, the problems of
integrating their families, binding them together.

As she talked, I noticed Billy shuffling a little.  That was good.  Let him
remember all that this woman had done for him.

She also talked about their retirement, their packing everything in a motor
home and disappearing for months around the country in it.  Silent tears
crept down her face as she moved on to the last handful of years, the onset
of Alzheimer's, the struggle against the debilitating disease, and the pain
it brought both of them.

"Thank you, Pete." She said at last.  "It's never been perfect, there's
been times I wanted to kill you and I was convinced you were trying to kill
me, but we were married until death parted us.  You always did your best to
provide food for the table and a roof over our heads.  Thank you, husband."

She placed her hand on his cold shoulder and turned away, pulling me with
her.  Billy stayed where he was as she led me to a couch and sat down.  She
motioned Whitney to her side, and then told me to go see who the flowers
were all from.  I'd then return to tell her.

It was an old game of ours, one she made to help me strengthen my memory
skills.

There were many names on there, old friends of the family: The Ledbetters,
the Antons, the Condits (yes, as in Gary Condit) and many more.  There were
also many from companies that were familiar to me: Modesto Junior College
(my old school), the City of Mesa (my old employer), Korvan Studios, Jive
Records, the cast and crew of Ganymede, and of course many from our current
friends.  James had even sent a huge floral wreath from the three of us.
There were also small arrangements from all of their children who had shown
up, and from some of the grandkids as well.  I also noticed one from
Grandma.  I returned to Nanny's side, and she shooed Fran to the side so I
could sit next to her and report on everything I saw.  Whitney was still on
her other side, with most of the kids and older grandkids gathered around.

The next few hours passed as many friends of the family came in to pay
their respects.  Finally the appointed time for the viewing was over and we
made our way back to the limo after Nanny said goodbye to her husband.  He
was walking with her back straight and held high as she walked out with me
on her right and Whitney on her left.  She always had a stoic face, and I
was very glad as we walked into the August heat and found a crowd of print,
radio and television reporters.  In a flash, James and the guys formed a
cordon around us and escorted us to the waiting limo.

It was almost funny, here was NSYNC protecting US from reporters.

As the limo moved out of the parking lot and onto McHenry Avenue, Nanny
said something that really disturbed me.

"I wanted to get a new dress for Monday, but Billy and Paula took my
purse." Nanny said softly.  Anger suffused my entire being at that point.
James acted though, and hit the button to tell the driver to head towards
the mall.

"You can pay us back, later." He told her as she looked at him.  His tone
brooked no argument and she nodded.  At the mall, she was looking through
dresses while April and the guys kept the kids occupied.  An hour later, we
left with her having a new dress, and the guys had insisted on giving her
gifts of gloves, shoes, perfume, and make-up.  She tried to refuse, but
Chris threatened to throw a temper tantrum.  She was too busy laughing
after that to refuse.

Then we stopped for dinner at Hometown Buffet.  It was her favorite place
to eat, and it had been months since the last time she'd been.  It was
starting to get dicey when some teenagers recognized Justin, but their
parents kept a tight reign on them.  It seems the reason for their being in
town was becoming well known.

Billy was furious when we arrived home several hours later.  He threatened
to not let Nanny go with us again as we unloaded the bags from her shopping
trip, then demanded to know where she got the money to buy things.

"I'm just paying her back for all she's done for me over the years." I
said, digging my verbal claws deep into his hide.  He flinched a little,
and then resumed his tirade.  Nanny went inside and shut the door in his
face, turning the deadbolt.  I waited until she was in the bedroom changing
before letting him inside.  He tried to start in on me, but Grandma shut
him up with some well-placed words.  That was when she announced she'd be
staying over here tonight since April and the guys were going to need the
extra room at her house.

He didn't dare cross her.  He didn't have her under his thumb legally.
That was when I saw the look in Uncle Phil's eyes, and remembered stories
of him going after elderly widows and getting control of their estates.  I
made a mental note to hire our new attorney on retainer for her as well.

Nanny returned, and pointedly asked Grandma again if she didn't mind
sharing a room with her for the next two nights.  That shut up anything
Billy might say.  He announced that he and Paula would be getting a hotel
for the night and left.  Around eight, the guys and I took an exhausted
April and her sleeping kids back to Grandma's and put them into bed.  A
council of war was held where we informed them of everything that had been
going on.  They were all staying for the funeral, but would be leaving the
next day.  We also made plans to pick up the remaining people who were
arriving tomorrow.  With that being done, we all climbed into bed.

Neither James nor I felt like having sex. We did kiss and cuddle though,
and he held me as I cried myself into a gentle sleep.

Sunday was a quiet day, with us escorting Nanny to church on Sunday
morning.  With all the extended family, we took up 8 pews just to
ourselves.  The pastor's sermon that day, on love and family was good, and
reminded me just how much of a balm religion can be during hard times.

Monday came around and we got ready slowly for the funeral.  The actual day
of the funeral is always the worst for me.  Especially this funeral, with
all the fighting going on between the families.  It was also a bit
difficult to remember how exactly to wear my dress blues.

That had been Papa's biggest request.  He wanted every child and grandchild
who had served in the Armed Forces to wear their uniforms.  Even Junior, a
victim of Vietnam's PTSD, was complying with these wishes.  My sister was
also complying, the only female family member to have honorably completed
her military service. It had taken a bit of work since her original
uniforms were long lost, but we did find good quality replacements for her,
with the appropriate rank and awards.  Nanny's sure sewing hand had
guaranteed that they even looked professionally done.

As the limo picked us up first at Grandma's then headed around the corner
to Nanny's James snuggled up to my side and whispered that we were taking
the uniform home with us.  His comment about unbuttoning all thirteen
buttons on the pants with his teeth had me blushing as the door opened and
Nanny entered with Whitney right beside her.  Once again, she grabbed my
arm.  Her dark dress and veil gave her an extremely dignified look, so
different from her normal morning attire of a house robe.

Growing up, she'd arrive on a rainy day to pick me up from school in an old
house robe and her hair done up in curlers and toilet paper.  As
embarrassed as I'd be, I never hesitated to not call her, and I always
thanked her with a kiss.  I always knew my Nanny would be there for me and
didn't care if she was wearing her house robe or a dress.

The drive to the funeral home was made in silence; even April's kids were
totally quiet.  They looked so cute in their new outfits that I silently
cursed her husband for smoking and drinking most of their money instead of
buying decent clothes.  I also took the time to review in my head what I
would say during the two minutes I had been told to speak about Papa.

Our arrival this time was met with plenty of reporters and television
cameras.  So many were shouting questions that James stopped and answered a
few as we made our way inside.  When he joined us in the front row, Nanny
thanked him softly and motioned him to sit next to me, and for April to
make room.  That was when Billy demanded Whitney move from her spot next to
Nanny.  Nanny's response was short, crude, and effective.  Billy took a
seat with the rest of the `kids' behind us.  Grandma was sitting on the
other side of Whitney.

The funeral service went as all funeral services did.  Music was played,
both religious pieces, and their Pastor spoke about heaven and the grace of
God (he didn't speak about hell or any other remarks that could have been
controversial.).  Then Junior stood and spoke for a few minutes.  He was
wearing his old Army Class A's and there were tears in his eyes as he spoke
of the support Papa had given him when he returned from Vietnam a broken
man.  Then Billy stood and walked to the podium smartly in his Air Force
dress uniform, rows upon rows of ribbons and medals adorning his chest.  He
spoke of growing up with Papa, his discipline, his firmness in leading the
family.  Then it was my turn.

I was wearing my Navy dress blues (even though technically it was the
season for dress whites) and stood tall at the podium for a moment before
beginning.

"Pete Barrow, Papa, was the most penny-pinching, gruff, over-bearing, and
bigoted asshole I've ever known." I said, and the room was so silent you
could hear a pin dropped.  "Or at least that was the image that he
projected, and that most people saw him as.  I remember when I was a young
kid, and had broken a glass, he was interrogating me about what happened.

"I tried to lie, but he saw through it and warned me he could stand many
things, but a liar wasn't one of them.  His exact words to me were `It is
better to get in trouble for the truth than it is to get into trouble for
what happened AND for lying.  I don't trust liars, ever.'  These words I
remember to this day, and I try to remember always.

"Before I joined the Navy, he took me aside and told me the stories of his
experiences in World War II.  Those of us in the family who joined the
service heard the same stories, but they were never shared with anyone
else, and in accordance with his wishes I will not share them now.
However, his point in telling us these stories was so that we would be
ready for the horror of war, and so that we would understand WHY the
military insisted on things being done in certain ways.

"I never once doubted he loved me, even though he never said such a thing
out loud.  Instead of talking about it, he showed it through his actions.
He taught me to hold my head up proud, he taught that there was always a
moment when dreams were possible and that you had to reach out to them to
achieve them.  You had to risk in order to gain.  The trick is always to
risk as little as possible for the most possible gain.  I missed him as the
Alzheimer's took him a little bit each day, as the fire and passion that
was Papa faded into obscurity.

"Thank you, Papa, for loving me." I finished, walking back to my seat next
to Nanny.  She grabbed my arm tightly.  I noticed that James was rubbing
his arm and staring in her direction with wide eyes.  His eyes met mine,
and he expressed sympathy with them for the pain of Nanny's grasp.

I didn't mind though. She could tear my arm off and I would let her if it
helped.

The rest of the funeral passed quietly as people lined up to pay their last
respects to Papa.  The family was last, and Nanny was the last of all of
us.  Her quiet goodbye was so different than the goodbye she had made to my
mother, but my arm still hurt where she clutched it firmly.

The convoy of limos and other cars stretched for miles down the freeway.
Luckily, the press gave us room to grieve, although there were quite a few
cameras farther away in the cemetery with telephoto lenses.  They captured
the images of the pallbearers perfectly.

The pallbearers were those of us who had honored Papa's wishes and worn our
uniforms.  Uncle Junior and Uncle Billy led, dressed in their Army and Air
Force uniforms.  I was right behind them with my cousin Josh in his Navy
dress blues.  April was behind me in her dress blues, and cousin Brian was
in his Marine Corps dress uniform.

The pastor gave the typical graveside sermon, reminding us that this was
just Papa's body, his soul was elsewhere.  The guys sang `Amazing Grace'
and brought tears to everyone's eyes with their singing.  I had no idea how
I was going to repay them for that.  The honor guard Uncle Billy had
arranged played Taps then and a 21-gun salute was rendered.  The six of us
pallbearers folded the American flag we had draped over the casket and
Uncle Junior as the oldest presented it to Nanny.  She had Whitney on one
side of her, and James had resumed a seat on her other side after they had
sung.  She was gripping his arm like she had mine.

It was at that moment that I realized something.  James was now inexorably
a part of my family.  Like Manuel, who was sitting next to my Grandmother
and Josh, he had become part of the family and both of my grandmothers
accepted him totally.  I really didn't care about the Uncles or cousins.
Some would, most wouldn't, but their opinions didn't matter like those of
my Grandmothers did.

We were going to have to get off our butts and get married.

The procession then returned to the church Nanny and Papa had attended for
the last ten years.  It was an Assembly of God church, and I took perverse
pleasure in the uncomfortable stance of Uncle Phil.  Of course the man
believed that anyone but a Baptist was a heretic and stood a chance of
burning in hell.  His discomfort there was almost enjoyable.

Of course, Uncle Billy had to ruin it after a few hours by insisting that
Nanny had to return home to pack her bags.  He was sending her to a
retirement home in the morning.  The lawyer James had found arrived shortly
after that.  While we had been taking care of burying Papa, he'd been in
the courthouse and obtained a temporary injunction on Billy's order.

It turns out the judge who issued it was Henry Morgan, the father of one of
my high school buddies.  He remembered me and when our lawyer mentioned
that I was one of the people paying to support Nanny's case, Judge Morgan
had immediately granted an injunction and scheduled an administrative
hearing the next day.  It would take place in his chambers, and the main
participants would all be there.

It was with relief that we escorted Nanny home that night.  James and I
ended up staying there with her and Whitney while April, her kids, and the
guys all stayed at Grandma's around the corner.

I was utterly exhausted as James wrapped me in his arms and sleep took
over.

***

To answer some questions: Yes, my Papa has Alzheimer's.  No, he's still
alive.  While the events in this chapter have some basis in real events
that have transpired over the last year, they are not totally
representative of what really happened.

And yes, my family is really that crazy.  I really, really love my Aunt
Chris, but her husband's preaching leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth.
I haven't seen cousins Tracy, Heather, or Doug in about twelve years for
the reasons given in the story.  In fact, last I heard the live in
Mississippi.  While I could make a whole set of characters for Davey's
family, I thought I might as well use my own.  You couldn't find a set of
characters as...interesting...as them even if you tried.

Oh, yeah, Dave and James are sick and tired of being dragged into legal
battles as well as some of you are hearing about them.  They both hope they
never have to enter a court room again.  Unfortunately, the courts is where
the drama of gay rights, custody issues, and elder care issues are often
played out when families disagree.

Let's just hope those people who don't like them learn soon that with
enough money hiring good lawyers, most legal battles will go towards Dave
and James.