Lavender

Chapter 10

On Monday morning Parker and I rode together on the bus. At school, there were few incidents related to the whole school knowing about Parker and me. A few people gave us thumbs up in the halls; a few people gave us the finger. Teachers showed no signs that they knew about us. In fact, most people just ignored us as they usually did, being preoccupied with their own school issues. When Phillip passed me in the hall, he stopped me and called me back to him. Curious, I walked over.

“Look,” he said, “I don’t like faggots, but my brother should never have done what he did, especially with a baseball bat. I’m really sorry about that.”

I didn’t tell him I accepted his apology, but I nodded and walked away. Phillip was basically a good kid, and I hoped that someday he would get over his prejudice.

At home during the week, Parker and I resumed our passionate lovemaking. In Texas, Parker had heard about cornholing, or, as we called it, butt fucking. We talked about whether to try it but concluded that we weren’t sure we’d enjoy it and that in any case we just weren’t ready for it.

After Thanksgiving, my family made its annual pre-Christmas shopping trip to Hyannis, and Parker joined us there. He and I had a plan. The first store we went into was a jewelry shop, where we asked to look at friendship rings. The clerk was a little surprised, probably because we were two boys, but he brought out a tray with several samples. We picked out one of the silver ones and said that we wanted two inscribed with our initials with a heart between them. We paid for them and he said they’d be ready in a couple of hours.

From there we wandered through the usual stores looking for presents for our families. I found a nice scarf for Mom and a heavy cardigan for Dad. For my brothers and sister I bought records which were new releases of musicians I knew they liked.

We all met at a restaurant in Hyannis for lunch. Parker offered to pay for his, but my parents wouldn’t hear of it. “After all, Parker,” my mom said, “you’re part of our family now.” I was so happy that my parents had accepted him and us for what we were.

My brothers and sister came home for Christmas, and on Christmas morning we went through our usual rituals, including emptying the stockings which we had hung on the mantel. Of course, none of us believed in Santa anymore, but we kids all bought little items and passed them on to our parents to include with the little gifts they put into our siblings’ stockings. We kids saw to it that our parents also hung stockings and got treats from us in the morning.

After we finished with stockings and breakfast, we opened our gifts from under the tree, oohing and aahing over them.

Parker and his grandparents arrived for Christmas dinner, bringing, as usual, delicious fresh-baked rolls and pies. When we were all as full as we could get, we returned to the living room and opened the presents each family had bought for the other.

Parker and I waited until all the other presents had been given out before we turned to the little boxes containing our rings. Opening the boxes simultaneously we slipped the rings on our left-hand ring finger and hugged each other. I said to our families, “We know that we can never marry, but the rings are symbols of our commitment to each other.” Then we went around the group so everyone could admire the rings.

Later, Parker and I went for a walk together. There was fresh snow on the ground, which glistened from the sun shining out of a cobalt blue sky. It was a dry snow, so it crunched under our feet. We walked to the skating pond and sat on a bench. There were a few kids trying out their new skates, but they were younger than we were, and we didn’t really know them well.

As we sat holding hands, Parker said quietly squeezing my had gently, “Brian, I love you.”

I squeezed back, saying, “I love you too, Parker. I can’t imagine life without you.”

We sat in companionable silence for a long time, thinking our own thoughts before Parker said, “At first, I just loved the sex, but now I know I love you for who you are. If we stopped the sex right now, I would still love you forever.”

“Me too,” I replied, smiling, “but let’s not stop the sex.” We both laughed. Later, we walked back to the house for Christmas leftovers before Parker and his grandparents left for home.

It was a happy Christmas for us all. The Johnstons had found a house which they could buy and would close on it in early January. I was secretly happy that it was not in our town, so Parker would continue his arrangement of living with us during the week.

Dad had given me driving lessons. In those days, there weren’t much in the way of automatic transmissions, so I had to learn to use the clutch, coordinating it with shifting and then moving the car smoothly forward. The hardest part was starting up from a stop sign on a hill, because then I had to put on the handbrake and coordinate releasing that with letting out the clutch and slowly pressing the accelerator. Of course, at first, I stalled the engine a few times and sometimes the car would buck as I tried to move forward, but I finally got so I could do it automatically. I also had to learn how to parallel park, which I thought was ridiculous as I couldn’t think of anywhere that I had to do that, but it was a required part of the driving test.

I took my test in the middle of January. I was nervous and tried not to show it. I passed the test with no problems and Dad let me drive home. As we got to our driveway, I was so elated I plowed into a snowbank. We both laughed as I backed up and then pulled into the driveway.

Of course, neither Parker nor I had our own car, so we had to settle for times when one was available to us. That meant that we still had to take the bus to and from school, a ride which we really didn’t mind. The worst part, of course, was waiting in the early morning cold for the bus to come.  Some days it was pretty windy. We stood together with our arms around each other, trying to stay as warm as possible.

One cold morning as we hugged, Parker leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. I reciprocated and we stood locked in our kiss until we heard, “Okay, guys, enough of that!”

Hastily breaking our kiss, we looked to see Patrick grinning at us. As far as I know, it was the first time anyone from school had seen us kissing. He laughed and then we did too. When other kids arrived, they asked what we were laughing about, but Patrick didn’t say and, of course, neither did we.

Sometimes on weeknights, if we had finished our homework, I borrowed one of our cars and Parker and I drove to a beach where we parked and sat on a bench, holding hands and looking out at the waves.

Spring seemed to sail by, and, before we knew it, school got out for the summer.

One day we borrowed my mom’s car and drove out to Provincetown on the very tip of Cape Cod. We knew many gay people who summered there. There was a summer theater, where playwrights like Tennessee Williams used to come to try out new plays. There were also artists who came in the summer for the light, which was unsullied by city smog. Many gay people also lived there year-round. The Portuguese people who had immigrated there for the fishing still controlled a lot of the town and most of the businesses. There were still descendants of the early whaling men who had first settled the town. Of course, there were people who didn’t welcome gays and considered us all undesirables, but even then it was the most gay-friendly town in Massachusetts.

As we approached the town, huge sand dunes loomed up on our right and occasionally sand had blown across the road, so we had to drive carefully.

In town, we parked and walked down Commercial Street past a few wharves. There were many shops too which even then catered to tourists. As we walked, we observed two men, probably in their twenties, walking towards us holding hands. Parker immediately sought my hand, which he clasped tightly. The men stopped and talked with us for a bit, asking where we were from and how we knew we were gay. They told us that they were partners and committed to each other for love and life. Then they invited us to lunch at a nearby restaurant. After a little hesitation, we agreed to join them.

The restaurant was friendly and noisy, and clearly a gay hangout. It was there that we first observed lesbians as well as gay men. We enjoyed chatting over lunch as the two men told us their stories of self-discovery and then of finding each other. They told us more about the town and gay life there.  They suggested that we might enjoy going out to Herring Cove Beach to watch the sunset, and they gave us directions.

After parting, we continued our walk down Commercial Street all the way to its end. As we walked, Parker suggested, “You know, I think we might enjoy living here someday.” I quickly agreed, and Provincetown became a place we visited as often as we could.

We purchased some sandwiches for our supper and then drove to Herring Cove Beach, where we sat and watched the water, the birds, and occasional small boats.  We ate our sandwiches gazing at the sun slowly sliding down and reflecting on the water.

As we watched, I asked, “Do you ever stop to think that, long after we’re gone, the sun will still rise and set and the waves will still pound on the beach?”

Parker responded, “That will still be true after the last human beings are gone from the earth. There’s something about eternity that’s both scary and comforting, I think.  But we won’t be gone for a long time yet, and meanwhile, we have each other to share our love with.” He leaned over and gave me a long, warm kiss, his tongue finding its way into my mouth as mine wandered into his. A little thrill went through me as I thought, to heck with eternity. This is forever.