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Previously…

“It’s not your fault that things took a bit longer to get from here?” She touched his chest by his heart, “to…here?” She touched the top of his head.

“I should have said something a long time ago.” Looking at both their reflections, he began to shudder, forgetting everything except the fear that lived inside of him for so long; the reason for the fear was even one more thing he still had not the courage to share, even with his sister. Time would tell.

“It’s too late, Frankie…It will never be right. I waited too long…It’s never going to be right.”

Disappointment comes in degrees. Missing a favorite program… losing the championship soccer match? A huge gap between. But those were mere bumps in the road of life; leaving them all behind, Georgie was convinced his life was over before it had begun. No amount of good jobs or places to live or favorite books or fine meals or wine or fortune could ever mend the wound in his heart that would remain even as he remained a man. Georgie desperately needed to be herself; Georgina Pasquale. All roads should have already led from a hospital in Montreal, but she staggered down frustrating paths; going down the wrong roads to doom as Georgio Anthony Pasquale instead.

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The woman droned on about how conformity was the best of all possible choices. All of the children looked back at her with adoring smiles as she extolled the virtues of sameness and doing well. River put her head down on the desk and started singing to herself...

"Frá¨re Jacques, frá¨re Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines! Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don...." As she sang the woman approached; her voice soothing with a scold behind.

"Now, River...it's not time for play...why don't you lift your head and pay attention, I think you'll enjoy the next..."

"Song we'll be singing is a new one...We'll sing it through and then you can all join in, okay?"

Agincourt Church…Toronto….

“You two have been awfully quiet all morning.” Marie said as the pastor dismissed the congregation. She looked over at her children…her two adult children…with a bit of playful dread. “What have you two been up to?”

“Oh…gosh…maybe a nice meal for our lovely hard-working mother.” Frankie kidded back.

“What? No sandwiches and soup? I’m crestfallen.” She laughed as the service started. The worship leader was especially animated, which was a stark contrast to Georgie, who just sat in his seat with his head down.

“Not feeling well, hon?” Marie leaned closer. “You guys can skip a big meal when we get home.” She put her hand on her son’s back and rubbed it before returning to the music. Frankie looked over and made eye contact with her brother, raising her eyebrows slightly as if to say,

“What’s going on?” He shook his head no. She made a mock threatening sideways glance at him before sighing and putting her own hand on his arm. She leaned closer.

“Trust me…it’s going to be okay.” He looked up and tried to smile, but the tears in his eyes wouldn’t let him. Frankie shook her head and frowned sadly as she rubbed her brother’s back. Like mother, like daughter…daughters, she supposed as her hand came In contact with her mother’s as they both cared for Georgie.

“I’m going to go up for prayer…If you like we can just go out to Tim Horton’s for coffee. I think a nice restful Sunday would do us all a world of good. Why don’t you two go bring the car around and I’ll meet you up front. Frankie took the keys as Marie stepped into the aisle, but not before looking back at her son; the son who was now weeping. She sighed and stepped forward into the short line of congregants seeking prayer.

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The Pasquale home…a while later…

“Not a bad idea; I rather like Burmese cuisine much more than a doughnut and coffee; good job, Frankie.” Marie laid out some dishes and silverware before sitting down.

“Where’s Georgie?” Marie said with a bit of concern in her voice. She didn’t know if Frankie had seen him crying in church, and it worried her. Frankie put a bottle of Merlot on the table and sat down.

“Umm…I guess he’s in his room.” Frankie looked down the hallway anxiously before turning back to her mother.

“Mom…we wanted to have dinner at home because Georgie has something he needs to talk to you about, and we figured it would be easier for him if we did it here.” Marie turned away and thought, “We?” Just then a figure appeared in the dining room archway. Both women were surprised since brother and son stood there, as always, save for the McGill University sweatshirt of Frankie’s that he had put on.

“Dinner looks great.” He said as he sat down, his expression a bit nervous, but he was a fairly nervous young man to begin with.

“Your sister tells me you want to talk about something…” She grinned slightly. She leaned toward him and smiled the nicest smile ever; just like every other smile she had given them both since they were born. She sighed softly and held her hand up, as if to stop him before he started.

“I need to tell you a few things with you first, if you don’t mind?” Frankie looked at her and at Georgie and back, trying to downplay any urgency she might detect in their expressions.

“Sure…that’s okay.” Georgie tried very hard but was unable to hide his relief. Marie sighed again, and her expression turned sad, but she still had the trace of that smile of hers.

“I went up for prayer this morning…I don’t want you to worry, but I found a lump in my right breast last month. I hadn’t said anything until I was sure.” She looked away, seeking strength, but not for what she was about to say right then.

“It’s benign. But it scared the hell out of me.” She smiled and blinked out some tears. Georgie looked at her; dumbfounded. Frankie began to cry. She stood up and hugged her mother while reaching a hand out to her brother who continued to look stunned.

“Oh, God, Mommy…thank God.” The tears flowed and Frankie kissed her mother over and over. Marie pulled her closer and hugged back and kissed her cheek.

“It’s okay, baby…I’m alright…I’m…I’m okay.” She shrugged her shoulders in relief and turned to Georgie. He was shaking his head and crying; his lip quivered and he had folded his right arm across his chest while he covered his face with his left hand. Marie reached over and grabbed his hand and put it against her face.

“I’m not going anywhere, honey…okay?” She pursed her lips and began to cry, and it wasn’t over herself.

“Georgie…honey…I went up for prayer for you….I need to tell you something, and I needed strength to do it.” Frankie sat back down and held her mother’s and brother’s outstretched hand.

“With that scare, I had to look at my life…and my death…it will come…you know…just not now, God willing. But when I thought about the possibility of leaving you two I couldn’t wait…” Frankie tilted her head. Georgie stared off, fearing the worst.

“Frankie…honey…I am so proud of you. You are the best daughter a mother could ever have…I am so excited about what the future holds for you.” Frankie smiled through her tears and nodded with a slight shrug.

“Georgie? Honey… I am proud of you… don’t forget that…I couldn’t be happier with you, but I don’t think you’ve been happy for a long time. I know you go to Marcia for help, and I know that talking has done you good. But it’s time for honesty between us. I’ve failed you…horribly and I can’t begin to apologize for what I’ve neglected.

“I don’t understand, Mom….” Georgie shook his head and wiped his tears.

“I’ve wanted so much for a son in whom I could be proud…too much…wanting for something that would never be. When your Dad died he only had two wishes…a parting blessing and hope for us.” She paused and looked back and forth between her two children.

“He wanted me to be happy, and if I found someone…you know how close Carmine and I have become in the past year…well…we talked about it and he wants your permission to marry me.” Frankie practically shot back out of her seat and began showering her mother with kisses once again, this time joyful and hopeful. Georgie sighed before smiling at his mother, trying hard not to start crying. She smiled back and nodded.

“But your Dad said also...'Raise them good, Marie.' Not because he worried that I wouldn’t; he was sure I would.“ She smiled again but started to cry again as well.

“You’ve done a great job, mom…a great job. I couldn’t ask for a better future and hope, and it’s all because of you.” Marie nodded with a smile, fighting back her tears, but she gave in and began to weep.

“Mommy…what’s wrong? Mom?” Frankie pulled her mother’s hands out and held them, looking her in the eye. She looked at Frankie but then turned her gaze to Georgie. He sighed.

“That’s what the prayer was about…me…Daddy wanted a ‘fine son.’ He said it all the time.”

“Yes, honey, he did. The prayer was about you, but not in the way you think.” He put his head down, inconsolable. She reached over and lifted his head up with her hand; her face was awash with tears, but her voice was steady and comforting.

“No, mi figlio, Georgio…mi dolce figlio.” My sweet boy… Most of the Italian Marie had learned from her mother was for terms of affection…Di affeto…

“Honey…I failed you because I did exactly what your Daddy asked me to. I am so sorry. He didn’t understand and I didn’t understand.” She pouted as if she had been chastised, but her chastisement came from own heart. Frankie grabbed her hand.

“Mommy…what are you talking about?”

“I raised a son and a daughter…a good thing, you know?” She looked back and forth at Georgie and Frankie.

“But we knew…and we didn’t want to accept it. Frankie? You did, honey, and I owe a great debt of gratitude for the way you’ve loved Georgie. I loved him too much….in a way, you know?” She spoke to her as if her son wasn’t in the room. And from her perspective, in a way, she was right about that.

“Georgie…honey…I know about you…how Frankie has been helping you…I came home a few months ago after my shift that morning. I had planned on going to your Uncle Phil’s to pick him up for his appointment, but it got canceled. When I got home I guess you didn’t hear me… you and Frankie were in her room…it was just like when you were little.” She choked back a sob.

“Mommy…Frankie made me pretty.” Oh I know I never yelled at you or got angry. Your Daddy was always kind and caring. But we didn’t recognize what you were trying to say. When Frankie dressed you up…’It’s just a game, Mom…we’re just playing a game.’ So I put that away in my head as if it was a silly game between brother and sister. But when I saw you that morning? I knew then in my heart that it wasn’t a game or a phase or a problem.” She smiled at Frankie as if she knew something she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Georgie…take off the sweatshirt…I know…" Georgie's eyes widened in fear and confusion. Marie smiled and gave him a "Moms always know" look.

"I know. Your sister’s voice…it carried through the heating vent downstairs into the laundry.” She patted him softly on the arm and his face turned red. He sat still, fearing how her mother would feel if she saw the teal top and bra underneath the bulky sweatshirt. She folded her arms as if impatient, but the tearful smile she wore said otherwise. He relented and pulled off the shirt, revealing his sister's clothes...his clothes beneath. He frowned and shook his head but she shook back.

“Okay…It’s okay, honey...please…but now you see why I asked for prayer?” She smiled but Georgie’s face turned frightened and ashamed.

“You…asked for prayer for this?” Georgie put his head down on the table and began to sob.

“Oh…no..no…no….not that…no, honey…nobody knows. I just asked Tara Noonan to pray for me for strength…so I could ask for forgiveness …with someone. She doesn’t know who…just that I wanted to say I’m sorry, and I didn’t know how.”

“Forgiveness? I…I don’t understand, Mom?” Frankie had stood up and was rubbing Georgie’s back like she had earlier in church.

“See how sensitive your sister is? She knows….and I didn’t…I should have known, honey. Can you forgive me? Please say you’ll forgive me?” Marie began to weep, almost without hope. Georgie lifted his head, not even understanding for what his mother sought forgiveness, but he spoke.

“Mom…Mommy?” Placing his hand on her’s, he said softly,

“I forgive you…what ever it is that you did to me? I don’t know, Mommy…but I forgive you, okay. Please be okay?” By now the three were almost weeping in unison. After a few minutes Marie sighed once again.

“Mom…what is it that you didn’t do for me? I don’t understand.” Georgie said haltingly. Marie looked at him and frowned sadly, still feeling guilty even though grace was present at that moment. She looked at Frankie and then at Georgie and spoke.

“I did a good job of raising a daughter and a son, you know?” She began to cry again and spoke haltingly and finally,

“Mi dispiace molto figlia...I should have raised two daughters.”

Next: What about the Alliance?

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Ballad of Serenity
words and music by
Greg Edmondson
as performed by Sonny Rhodes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gaLPpKCC9pg