Dedicating Every Day to You

Chapter Fifty

Alex's jaw drops as we turn off of the highway and down towards a residential street. "Your father? I thought you hated him!"

John's fingers grip tighter on the steering wheel. "I haven't seen him, or any of my siblings, since I left for college. Going home is something I need to do, even if I don't want to do it."

I say nothing, just play with the little puffballs on the hem of my dress. Even if I wanted to interject, I wouldn't know how to. I don't know what I would want to say.

"Besides, he should at least know that I'm not dead. We can't avoid him forever, Alex." John flicks the right blinker on and takes another turn. "It's not negotiable anymore, anyway. We're here."

The house we've pulled up in front of is palatial, a peach and cream mansion complete with a sprawling green lawn and actual white columns holding up the front. The hedges outside are pruned into spirallng shapes like a twist ice cream cone, each a perfect shade of emerald. The cars in the circular gravel driveway are all shining and clean, with not a scratch on them. I feel intimidated by the very grounds of the place.

John climbs out and straightens his shirt. "You ready, Kathryn? Alex?" We both nod, and then walk up the drive towards the imposing, beautiful house. John raises the cast-iron knocker and lets it drop onto the door.

The white, ornate door is pulled open by a girl who looks to be about twenty. She has short, curly brown hair and skin exactly like John's. Small freckles dot her cheeks, and her dark eyes sparkle in the South Carolina sunlight. She has a gorgeous, light pink dress on that reminds me of a Southern belle dress- except for the fact that it's only knee length and she paired it with combat boots.

Her mouth falls open when she sees who's standing there. Without a word, she flings her arms around my father and squeezes him so tightly I don't think he can breathe. Her eyes are closed, and I can see her mouth moving. John hugs her, too, and rocks her back and forth as he kisses the top of her head.

"Jackie," she whispers, and when she pulls back there are tears streaked down his face.

"Hello, Mary," he murmurs back. His eyes are misty, too, and he doesn't want to let go of her.

Mary wipes her eyes on the back of her hand. "I didn't think you were coming back."

John pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to her. "I'll always come back for you, Mare. You know I will."

She dabs at the runny eyeliner that's smeared on her face. "Thanks."

"Is Father home?" He smiles softly. I can tell that, even though he'd never admit it, John feels a little happy to be back at his childhood home.

"He's in his study." Mary takes John's hand and squeezes it. "I missed you so much."

John smiles and gives their joined hands a little swing. "I missed you, too, you tiny thing. Alex, Kat, come on. I want you to meet Henry."

We wind through the house, until they stop at a heavy oak door and Mary raps sharply on it. "Come in," a voice calls. It's male and deep, and there's a certain creakiness to it, like the sound of a weathered rocking chair. John's hand shakes lightly as he turns the doorknob, and all three of us step inside.

The study looks like something out of a Victorian movie. It's all dark wood, with a shelf of dusty, leatherbound books and an aged globe on the desk. The lighting is dim, but it feels comfortable somehow.

Seated behind the desk is an old man with white hair. He's dressed in a suit, even though here in this room it's easily eighty degrees. He looks up from his paperwork. At the sight of John, he's visibly shaken.

"Father," John says quietly. He still looks a little misty from his encounter with Mary.

"Hello, Jack." The man stands up, his age impairing his speed. "It's been a very long time indeed."

John bites his lip and nods. "I thought that I should come and visit. How have things been?"

The man, who must be Henry Laurens, laughs softly. "Everyone's been alright. You saw Mary, I assume? She's been doing very well. James just graduated med school, and Martha..." A small smile crosses his weary features. "Martha's four months pregnant."

"Oh, that's amazing!" John grins for a fleeting moment. "I miss Martha."

"And how have you been since you moved to New York?" Henry sinks back into his desk chair. "I imagine college went well for you?"

John nods, a little more happily. "Yes, college went very well. I've been married for a few years, and I have a daughter now. I...brought my family with me."

Henry smiles. "Well, finally got yourself a lady, did you?" He steeples his fingers, and I notice a military service ring on his index finger. It has an orange stone in it, and I wonder the significane.

"Not exactly. Father, this is my daughter Kathryn, and my husband Alexander." Alex and I step forward holding hands, and I look down at the floor. Making eye contact with this man would be like failing to bow before a king.

"So I see you're still deciding to be the rebel of the family." Henry takes a sip from his cup of coffee that rests on the table. When he sets it back in its saucer, he looks up at me and Alex. "Hello, you two."

I finally make eye contact- he has dark eyes that sparkle in the low light of the room. "Hello, sir." Respect has been ingrained in me from years of different foster homes.

Henry chuckles. It's the sound a laughing bear might make- deep and rumbling and echoey. "Do you call all of your grandparents 'sir' and 'ma'am'?"

"You're my only grandfather, sir." I flash a tiny smile, then return my eyes to the carpet. I've nearly memorized the intricate pattern on it by now.

"Listen, Father." John takes a deep breath and gestures at Alex. "I love Alexander. Being gay is not a choice. It's who I am, and if you can't accept that-"

A wheezing laugh cuts John off. He jumps in surprise, and we look at Henry, who's currently laughing his head off. Once he's finished, he nods at John. "Now it's your turn to listen. I know that who you love isn't a choice. If it was, nobody would ever fall in love. I've known you weren't like James since you were pretty young. Even if I wouldn't have chosen for you to be gay, I know that's who you are, and it's not my life. I accept you, because you're my son."

John blinks for a moment, and then leans over the desk to hug Henry. The older man holds him for a moment, and there's nothing but silence. When they release each other, they're both smiling.

"Now, I don't know about you three, but I think it's around time for a meal, and I refuse to let anyone go home hungry. It's still warm enough for a barbecue!" Henry smiles at all of us in turn.

And that is how we ended up driving home to New York with a car full of leftover peach pie and ribs and corn, all three of us smiling. I fought sleep the whole drive home, but when we crossed the New Jersey border, I passed out cold. The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was Alex and John holding hands over the gear shift and smiling at one another.