Date: Sun, 06 Oct 2002 20:09:06 -0400
From: bright lite <brightlite52@hotmail.com>
Subject: Eric's Song, Chapter 6

Copyright 2002.

a) The following story is a work of fiction, and the rights of this
series belong to its author.

b) It surprised me how long it took to get back to this story, and the
thread of the story that runs though it's companion, Jase-n-Zach, found in
the 'Relationships' section of Nifty.  Hope you enjoy it as much as the
previous chapters, and, as always--feel free to write.

Regards,

Bright Lite d:P



Chapter 6.  A Place at the Table--

	I sat impatiently at the airport with Chris' parents while we
waited for his plane to arrive from Boston.  They were nice people-no, they
were wonderful people-and had welcomed me into their lives without
hesitation after I had been introduced.  Chris' father was a stockbroker,
and his mother a retired housewife; I had found it hard to believe at first
that they were so easy with the concept of a boyfriend, especially when
Chris was their only child.

	"So Eric, did you kids have any plans for tonight?  You're more
than welcome to stay with us-I'm sure you and Chris have a lot of catching
up to do."  Chris' mom smiled mischievously and glanced at her husband, who
raised one eyebrow in mock suspicion.

	"Somehow, I don't think we could keep the two of them apart for
more than a couple of minutes at a time, anyway.  It's simply a lost
cause."  He gripped my shoulder in a friendly way.  "Just give him a little
time with his old man this holiday, ok?"

	I ducked my head and laughed.  "Yeah, no problem.  Thanks for
bringing me with you, by the way."

	"Chris wouldn't want it any other way.  He's been talking about
nothing else for the last month, and his mother and I enjoy seeing the two
of you together.  You're a part of our family now, you know."

	As the two of them smiled at me, I got a lump in my throat and had
to cough to clear it.  I suddenly felt like I could do anything, with Chris
at my side and the knowledge that his parents gave us their blessing.  I
was faintly embarrassed at the suggestion that we would be busy `catching
up', but it was true-I couldn't wait to feel Chris' smooth skin against my
own, and the soft, warm touch of his lips.  It must have been apparent on
my face, because at that moment his mother reached out and patted my knee.

	"He'll be here soon, honey."

	Her touch reminded me of my grandmother, and I suddenly felt an
urgent need to tell her about my feelings, and about Chris.  It wasn't
going to go away, I knew that much; I just hoped that when I finally told
her, she would be able to give me some kind of approval of her own.  If
there was one single thing I was afraid of, it was that she would be very
much disappointed in me.  Gram had never had to discipline me much growing
up, mostly because she taught me there was swift and just punishment for
breaking any rules.  She went to church, and always read me stories from
the Bible when I was little; she loved poetry and had a book of favorite
poems next to her chair whose brown leather cover was worn from frequent
use.  I knew what Gram had expected from me growing up and felt
increasingly trapped by the secret that I carried inside.  If she knew-what
then?  It was a huge question mark in my mind.  My love for Chris didn't
fit anything she'd ever taught me-she'd never even discussed being gay with
me, and discussions on love and the opposite sex came mostly when she
encouraged me to date a few of the `nice young ladies' whose parents or
grandparents she knew well.  Her comments suggested that that was what I
should be doing, but she hadn't pushed hard for me to do so.  I sighed.
Zach had told me on more than one occasion that it was time to talk about
myself with Gram, and I knew I would have to do it soon if I wanted to be
free from the constant guilt I felt whenever I thought about my situation.

	The distinctive whine of jet engines brought me back to the
present, and I watched as the plane pulled slowly up to the gate.  Within a
couple of minutes, the boarding ramp was in place and the first passengers
began to arrive.  Most looked weary, or faintly relieved; I scanned their
faces as I watched for the one that I wanted.

	"There he is."  Chris' mom nudged my elbow, but it was unnecessary;
I could have picked him in an instant out of any crowd.  He looked around
quickly as he stepped away from the boarding gate and locked eyes with me.
His face broke into a huge welcoming grin, which I matched with one of my
own.

	"Eric!"  His shout of happiness turned a few heads as he rushed
past the rows of chairs blocking his way and dropped his backpack in the
seat next to where I was standing.  He grabbed me by the waist, and pulled
me into a strong embrace that I returned as we rocked from side to side.

	"I'm so glad to see you again."  He said it in my ear, and then
pulled back and looked me smiling in the eyes.  "Eric-God how I've missed
you."  His dad broke in and put an arm across Chris' shoulders and he swung
to greet them.  I was left slightly off balance, and breathing faster as a
happy, tingling sort of sensation warmed me up from the inside.  I had
missed him so much too, and secretly had worried that he would forget about
me once he went back to school.  It was a big place after all, and sure to
be filled with a lot of other guys he could be seeing.

	"Dude.  Let's go."

	Chris put a strong arm across my shoulder and we turned and made
our way to baggage claim.  He kept talking about things he'd done so far in
the semester, and I listened happily, answering his questions as they came
up, and asking a few of my own.  In the car on the way home, we sat in the
back seat with our legs touching and slouched partially up against each
other.  It was familiar and comforting all at the same time, and I was
looking forward to staying the night and holding him close again.

	"So Eric-how's work?  How's Zach and Jase and the rest of the
gang?"  Chris smiled.  "I can tell you've been hanging out with Jase a lot;
you're bigger than the last time I saw you."  He rubbed my chest playfully
through my shirt and felt the muscles beneath.

	I shrugged.  "You know. . .we've been doing stuff, and I stay over
with them after work now and then and watch movies.  Zach and I talk a
lot."

	"Speaking of Zach, are they still planning on coming over to my
parent's house with you and your grandmother for Thanksgiving?"

	"Yeah, and you know, Zach actually thanked me for saving him from
having to go with his sister to their parent's this year."  I laughed,
remembering the look on Kara's face when he told her.  She'd given him an
evil glare, probably at the thought of being alone with their parents and
having to be the focus of their attention.  Chris rolled his eyes and sat
forward, leaning between the front seats so he could talk directly to his
folks.

	"I'm soooo glad I have you guys for parents, and not anyone
else's."

His mom reached back and patted his cheek, while his dad looked up in the
rearview mirror and smiled.  I thought about that comment on the way back
to Chris' house, and it made me wonder if it really was possible for Gram
and I to have that same kind of relationship once I told her about myself
and Chris.  I wanted it so bad, it hurt.  I was just beginning to form
plans for the future, and key parts included telling the only family I
had-my mother might as well not have existed for me, and my father had died
before I ever knew him.  If I wanted to move forward, it was going to be
now or never.

"Chris.  Can we talk?"

"Sure, anything.  If you want, when we get home we can walk down to the
beach and talk as long as you want."  His hand closed around mine and he
brought it up and kissed it.

I leaned over and whispered, "it's about telling my grandmother about us.
About me."  His face took on a concerned look and his grip tightened
slightly.  "I have to tell her before Thursday-and Thanksgiving with your
parents.  I just have to."

"Do you want me with you?"

"I guess. . .no, I guess I have to do this on my own."  I sighed again,
thinking how most of the really important challenges in life a person had
to face alone.  If I let Chris help me, it wouldn't be the same.  Whatever
the outcome, it was my choice, and the responsibility for the decision
would be mine.

I stared out the window, wanting suddenly to be alone while I figured out
how I was going to talk to Gram.  I could feel Chris next to me, his hand
warm as he held mine and rubbed my fingers gently.  When he spoke, his
voice was urgent and low.

"Tell me what I can do.  I'll do whatever you need me to."

"I'm going to tell her tonight."  The words came out without real conscious
thought, but it felt right once I said them.

"You won't be staying."  It was a statement, not a question.

"I don't know yet.  Maybe your parents could drop me off at home."  I
leaned forward.  "Could you take me back home?  I'm not sure I can come
over just yet."  Chris' dad turned his head slightly.

"Are you sure?  We thought you were coming back with us. . ."

"I have something I have to do."  I moved slightly away from Chris, and let
go of his hand.  "I have to talk to her, Chris.  It's really important-I
can't take it anymore.  I'll call you later."

He looked down at his hand, now empty, and then back up at me, his face
unhappy.  "I suppose I can wait.  I mean, I'll see you soon anyway-I
just. . .missed you so much, and now I won't even be with you when you tell
your grandmother."

"Chris, you have no idea how important you are to me right now.  Knowing
you're here for me is what gives me the strength to do this.  It's ok."

The car turned a corner and headed south on Bayshore towards where I lived.
It wasn't more than ten miles around the bay between either of our homes,
and I'd ridden the distance more than a few times both to go to work, and
to see Chris.  I knew where to find him, and I promised myself that if I
could, I'd see him tonight as well.

The car pulled up into the parking lot past the condominium entrance and
then came to a stop.  I looked at Chris as I opened the door, and he got
out on the other side and met me coming around.

"I mean it, Eric.  I'm here for you.  Please call me later, and I'll do
anything you need me to."

He said it with the most feeling I had heard yet, and it went straight to
the place in my heart that belonged to him.  "I promise."

Chris caught me by the nearest arm, and pulled me into an embrace.  "Call
me."  Giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, he pulled back and held me at
arm's length.  "I'll wait for you."

As he got back into the car, I felt a momentary chill come over me; I
wasn't really sure I could do this without him, but I tried to look
cheerful as I waved goodbye.  The last sight I saw was Chris looking back
at me through the rear window, one hand spread against the glass.  I turned
with a sigh and forced my feet to head inside.

I shut Gram's and my front door carefully, with only a small click to
announce my return.  The familiar sounds and smells of the kitchen had a
calming effect that helped offset some of what I was feeling; I took a step
forward and used that momentum to propel myself to the kitchen.  It was the
normal routine.  Grandma almost always started supper at five o'clock, so
the sounds were of the of the local news anchor coming from the small
television set on the kitchen shelf, and of the vent fan humming noisily
away over the stove.  I could smell the earthy, yeasty smell of bread
baking in the oven, and with it, the fragrant aroma of a pot roast
simmering in the slo-cooker next to the stove .

"Is that you, Eric?  I wasn't expecting you here tonight."  She looked at
me over the nearest shoulder.  "Is everything ok?"

"Hi Grandma.  I had Chris's folks drop me off here first."  I came up
behind her and gave her a hug.  "Dinner smells wonderful, but then it
always does."

"Thank you dear.  I thought I would make it today so we could eat a nice
meal tomorrow, and then I could concentrate on just making pies for the
holiday.  I'm too old to do it all at once anymore, you know.  Did your
friend make it ok?"  She continued to wash lettuce in the sink, her back to
me as she waited for a reply.

"Yeah, he said the flight from Boston was packed, and he spent three hours
stuck in a middle seat with no way to stretch his legs or move."

"Oh, those things are cattle cars these days-it wasn't always that way
sweetheart, but times change.  How are his parents?"

"They're fine, they asked me to say hello for them, and that they're
looking forward to having us over for Thanksgiving."  I leaned back against
the counter behind me and stretched my arms to either side.  "Gram?"

"Yes dear?"

"What do you think of Chris?"

"What do you mean sweetheart?"

"I mean, you've only met him in passing a few times, but I've never heard
you say whether or not you liked him."  I braced myself for the response.
The path I was on was blind, and I was headed in the only direction I could
find.

Grandma stopped cutting the lettuce into two bowls, and put down the paring
knife she held.  Wiping her hands on the dish towel, she turned around to
face me.  "Well, I think he's a very nice boy, very polite, and his parents
are nice folks too-why is it so important what I think?  "

"Well. . ."  Here it was suddenly, the moment I had dreaded for as long as
I could remember.  "He and I are. . .we're. . .we're really close, you
know?"  It wasn't enough, but I was trying hard not to just blurt out what
I wanted to say and cause the look of puzzlement on her face to change to
one of shock.

"So?"  She smoothed the front of her apron with two fragile hands, the
fingers appearing frail and the knuckles seemingly large with age.  Her
wedding ring caught my attention suddenly, hanging loosely as it did on her
left hand, but still there even now that grandpa was gone.

"Gram-" I came forward and held the hand with the ring between both of
mine.  "We're like Zach and Jase. . .and. . .like you and grandpa."  It was
done.

She looked slightly up at me, her hand still clasped in mine, and her eyes
older seeming than she was.  They grew shiny and wet as she reached into a
pocket with her free hand and found a kleenex to dab them with.  When she
spoke at last, her voice sounded broken and aged.

"How long. . .oh sweetheart, how long did you wait to tell me this?"

My voice was shaky too, and barely more than a whisper.  "A. . .a while,
grandma.  A really long time now."

She pulled her hand back and wrapped both of them around me in a hug while
we stood there in the middle of the small kitchen, surrounded by our
thoughts, and the homey smells of dinner cooking.  It was a long time
before either of us said a word.

I pulled back finally, gently unentangling myself from her embrace.  As I
did so, she lifted her apron, then gripped my chin cautiously, dabbing at
the tears that I could feel only as cold trails running down each side of
my face.

"It's ok sweetheart.  No matter what, your grandma loves you."  When she
said this, my vision blurred further, and I only sensed her smile as her
work was quickly undone.  "You children live in such complicated and
difficult times, I hardly know what to make of it.  Do Chris's
parents. . .?"

"Do you mean do they know?"  I sniffed, then laughed just a little.  "Yeah,
they've known since he was in junior high, I think.  They've been really
nice to me.  . .to Chris and I, together."

"That's so nice dear.  I'm glad you had someone to turn to when you
couldn't talk to me.  Your poor grandmother isn't perfect that way, you
know.  If you had just told me sooner, or if I had just understood
sooner. . .it might have been differently for us."  She smoothed her apron
again, and picked up the knife she had been using before this whole
conversation began.

I was weak and still trembling, but inside me something had lifted and I no
longer felt like I had anything to hide.  It was a totally new feeling, one
that made me want to run the entire distance to Chris' house, shouting at
the top of my lungs as I went.  I could hardly wait to call him and tell
him the good news.  Grandma's acceptance was more than I could have hoped
for, and it made me as happy as I could have ever dreamed.

"Eric," She paused briefly at her task without turning around.  "I was
thinking-since you were planning on staying over at Chris' house tonight
anyway, why don't you invite him over for dinner first?  There's always
room for another place at the table, and I think I'd like to have a nice
family supper with the boy who's stolen my grandson's heart."  She smiled
at me, and at the grin on my face that probably outmatched any to date.

I came up again behind her and hugged her gratefully, while the soft scent
of roses from her perfume filled the air.  Resting my chin on her shoulder,
I whispered into her ear.

"Thanks, Gram.  I love you too."