You're asking me will my love grow,
I don't know, I don't know.
Stick around, and it may show,
But I don't know, I don't know.
 
Previously...Herman Hesse Hall lounge, Wilkes College, Wilkes-Barre, Pennysylvania, April 1970

… she sat down on her bed to pull on some pantyhose. A few minutes later she stood before the mirror once again, her cream blouse and black a-line skirt in proper array, even if they fit poorly, the clothes seemed to comfort her like a warm blanket on a damp cold day. She looked down at her feet, wondering if she could find something other than the plain brown loafers that she had purchased from the local good will.

She fell back on the bed, burying her face in the pillow so the boys down the hall wouldn’t hear her sobs as she cried herself to sleep.

Parsippany, New Jersey, 1972

“Dave? You seem so down lately…is there anything we can do for you?” Gracie looked over at her sister before returning her attention to the young man who sat at their dining room table. He looked away slightly, shaking his head. Maggie placed her hand on his wrist and laughed.

“I should leave you two alone.” She stood up and grabbed his face, pulling it closely as she kissed the top of his head playfully. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear,

“Would you just go ahead and ask her?”

“What did you just tell him?” Gracie asked. Maggie shook her head and put her finger to her lips to indicate a secret, but then blurted out,

“I told him to go ahead and ask you to marry him, okay? Satisfied? I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition, Miss Torquemada!” She laughed again and duplicated the same gesture with her sister, save for the change of sisterly instruction.

“Would you just say yes and spare us all the drama? We’ve had enough of that lately, right?” She used her eyes to direct Gracie’s attention to the empty chair at the table, indicating where their mother usually sat. Fiona McNulty was off to work for the day, leaving the ‘young folk’ alone for the day. Gracie was on summer break and Maggie had just finished her training at the business college and was waiting for a call back after a good interview with an accounting firm in Boonton.

“Would you just shut the fuck up,” Gracie said with a laugh. Maggie rolled her eyes at the language before nodding as she spoke at last.

“Okay, but only if you’ll make up your fucking mind!” Maggie never swore, which made the comment all the more forceful if nearly comical at the same time. She put her hand to her mouth and started giggling before walking into the kitchen.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Gracie said placing her hand on Dave’s wrist again, causing him to wince nervously.

“I heard that!” Maggie laughed before her voice faded away amidst the sound of running water as she filled the tea kettle.

“I….You’ve been part of my life since we were kids…well, since you were a kid…” Dave’s voice quieted as he looked away once again; his face grew red and hot as he recalled their first meeting....

Parsippany, New Jersey, October 1965...

“You play ball?” The tall girl asked as she slammed the ball into her Nellie Fox Second Baseman’s glove. She stared at him much in the same way a pitcher would squint at his catcher, looking for a sign. The boy nodded nervously, holding up his outfielder’s mitt; hardly used and very clean looking. She made no indication of noting his answer, and instead just reared back and threw the ball hard. He snatched at the throw and his palm hurt from the sting of the impact of the ball. Almost anyone had a better arm than him, but the girl threw better than most guys he knew.

“I’m eleven…twelve next month. How old are you? Ten?” His face grew bright red.

“I’m fourteen.” He threw the ball back; the slap of the ball against her palm barely made a sound.

“You throw like a girl!” She laughed. He didn’t.

“Oh, come on…. It’s just a joke.” The girl laughed again. He not only didn’t laugh, but his face, which had begun to cool, grew even redder. She walked up to him and jabbed him in the arm playfully.

“That’s okay. We can’t all be good at baseball.” The boy was nearly fifteen and yet he resembled a much younger…softer…girl, in a way. His features were boyish, but his body was slight and he held himself almost softly as well.

“Wanna come over to my house? I live right over there. You can have lunch with me, okay?” The girl grabbed his hand and pulled him over.

“I like you. You’re cute.” She laughed; this time in a nicer, welcoming manner, which did virtually nothing to make things less awkward. Many times over several years of her welcome served to change that, but did very little to help him learn to trust her friendship until she and her sister confronted him one day....

June, 1969

“My mom will be home soon, Dave.” Maggie sat down at the dining room table and handed Dave a warm wet washcloth.

“You gotta clean your face before she gets home.” Gracie added. She pointed to her own eye lids and shrugged before pointing at his face. He practically sank in the chair, his face a mask of fearful recognition as he realized the girls had ‘found him out.’ Maggie clarified it for him with a guffaw and a slap of her hand on the table.

“Oh brother….you left some eye shadow on. Come on, Dave. We’re not blind! Okay…nearsighted, maybe,” she said, referring to the stylish ‘granny’ glasses she and Gracie both wore. Dave’s face grew red; a habit that was so firmly entrenched, it was almost a wonder when he wasn’t blushing.

“Relax…just clean up so Fiona doesn’t have a cow, okay?” Gracie said, referring to her mother by her first name.

“You don’t have to worry about Patrick,” Maggie said, referring to their father.

“He already thinks you’re gay, and I bet it doesn’t even matter.” Gracie laughed. The boy wanted to protest, but it really was almost true in a sense. Just not in the way that the girl’s father would have understood. Dave didn’t even understand it himself. Thankfully someone else did.

“Dave? I saw your face the other night when Daddy was changing channels and that story came on Channel Thirteen about sex changes.” Maggie said softly.

There had been a time very early on when Dave had loved both sisters. Gracie was tenacious and bold; Maggie was sensitive and sweet. Apart they were wonderful enough, and he remained confused about his feelings for both of them for several years. But we fall in love with whom we will, and Dave loved Gracie. But he was ashamed and confused and hated himself for whom he was, and feared with good reason that if anyone, much less the girl he loved, knew what he really was, they would hate him.

“Don’t worry,” Gracie said as Maggie nodded. “We’ll never tell, okay?” She kissed him on the cheek. She had wanted to encourage him, and apart from his response, she had; he burst into tears and put his head down on the table. Both girls reached over and each grabbed a hand and squeezed.

“I …don’t want to leave her…” The boy lifted his head, pleading with the girls for understanding.

“But I have to.” He didn’t.

You're asking me will my love grow,
I don't know, I don't know.
Stick around, and it may show,
But I don't know, I don't know.

July, 1973

“You take care of my little girl,” Patrick said, pumping the boy’s hand in a firm handshake. The doubt he had expressed all along seemed to vanish as the inevitability of the moment changed his benign neglectful attitude into one of grudging acceptance. He would never get a chance to have his acceptance tested further since he died suddenly of a stroke just before their third anniversary. Fiona would get a world of opportunities to find out just what she was made of.

Autumn, 1979

“I don’t understand! Are you saying you married a homosexual?” Gracie knew just enough about how things worked to be tempted to say yes to her mother, but only because she was 'gay' as well, in a roundabout way. She shrugged her shoulders and looked at her sister for help. Maggie smiled as her boyfriend rolled his eyes before getting up, but not before saying,

“I’m sorry, but this is where I have to walk away or I’ll say something mean, and I don’t want to be seen as being insensitive and stupid on top of everything else.”

Simon struggled enough with being Jewish and dating a lapsed Catholic with a not-so-lapsed Catholic mother, but he cared for his friend and knew he’d be almost rude in his protests on Dave’s behalf; oddly even more so than if he would have tried to defend himself. But then this was 1979, and it was entirely foolish, cruel, ignorant, and hateful to be anti-Semitic. To try and defend Dave would make him justifiably angry and even more frustrated, however, because he accepted what his friend had confessed, even if Simon was like most people in his day and didn’t understand at all where Dave was coming from.

“Oh, stop, Simon. No one said anything to you. You’re over-reacting just like you always do.” Fiona snapped, feeling put out. Tears came to her eyes.

“Now I’ll never have any grandchildren.” She spoke out of foolish ignorance on behalf of both her daughters. Maggie resisted the temptation to storm off after her boyfriend, but she held her peace for the sake of both her sisters…..yes.

“Mom….I told you I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant. I don’t understand. It hurts that you don’t even want to try to hear what we just told you.” Gracie put her hand to her face to somehow try to keep the tears from flowing.

“Mommy?” Maggie made one last attempt to reach her mother, using an endearment she hadn’t spoken in years.

“Dave has known since he was little that he was different. Going to the doctor helped him figure out just what was going on.”

“If you’re father was alive, this would break his heart.” Fiona protested.

“If Daddy was alive, maybe. But maybe he’d be just as nice as he could.” Gracie remembered that while her father wondered if Dave was gay, he never asked any questions in any manner other than curiosity and kindness. Fiona could almost be forgiven for her attitude, since her own mother was beyond strict and had been critical and cruel to her as she grew up. But she needed to move past her own lack.

“I’m trying, Grace, but it’s not easy. This is such a shock, and it’s not how we raised you!” She practically sobbed, and it actually sounded authentic rather than her usual histrionics.

“Mom….I love him.” Grace looked over at her…partner. She wasn’t a husband any longer, even if nothing external had transpired.

“Mom….this is the same caring, loving, creative, sensitive person you and Daddy placed your trust in….but I don’t love him…I love her.

Fiona made one last attempt at ignorance even as her own humanity was sneaking up from behind.

“But what about the child? He’ll have a freak for a father.” Dave winced but finally spoke.

“No, Mom, he or she won’t… she’ll have two parents that love her very much. And if we can care for them the way you and Patrick did for Gracie and Maggie, even half as good, and whoever they are will be well cared for.” Tears were flowing freely from everyone at the table. What was taking place would quickly include Simon as well, but for the moment, something occurred that changed each of them forever.

“You…think we did well?” Fiona’s face was a mixture of sadness, fear, wonder, and shame. Maggie patted her hand.

“That’s what she said, Mom. Good parents who have a great example. You just have to get past the stupid stuff like we all do.” Maggie blinked back tears, hoping desperately that her usual humor would break through her mother’s resolve.

“I’m sorry if I’m such a disappointment. I think I should just leave.” Dave shook his head before putting it down; his face burned with shame and sadness. He rose to leave but felt a hand reach over to grab his arm. He looked up but instead of seeing his wife’s hand or his sister-in-law’s, it was Fiona’s.

“I don’t want you to go. I’m so sorry. I don’t understand any of this. But I remember the look Grace wore when she told me for the first time that she loved you. You may have changed, but her smile hasn’t. I don’t understand, Dave, but I’ll have to trust that Grace does, okay? Forgive me?” Dave was too choked up to speak and just nodded.

November, 1999

“I’ve got one last class today at eleven before the break. Can I head over to Chelsea’s house after that?” The girl said as she walked into the living room.

“As long as you’re back with your girlfriend for dinner on Sunday. We’ll be over at your Aunt Margaret’s tomorrow for Thanksgiving, but I want to at least have a call from you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure thing, Mommy, love you!” She walked over and kissed the woman on the cheek before turning to the other woman sitting on the couch.

“Love you, Mom!” The girl kissed her mother on the cheek in the same manner before grabbing her bag off the coffee table.

“Love you both!” She said one last time as she headed toward the door. Both women waved frantically and the girl stopped in her tracks.

The shorter of the two women jumped off the couch and almost bounded to the girl

“Take the Civic, Fiona? Mom has an exhibit tonight and needs the Volvo to transport the paintings, okay?”

“Well, only because you asked,” the girl laughed loudly, sounding a lot like her Aunt Maggie. She kissed Grace on the cheek once more and blew a kiss to Christine before she walked out the door.

"Say hi to everybody and give Maggie and Simon a kiss for me, okay?"

Grace walked back and plopped on the couch and kissed Christine. She laughed and looked toward the door.

"What can I say? She takes after her mothers."

Something in the way she smiles
And all I have to do is think of her
Something in the way she smiles for me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe in how

Next: Here Comes the Sun!

Something
words and music by
George Harrison
as performed by
The Beatles
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9hM7HN4ehY&feature=related