After attending all their classes on the first Friday of the semester, Bryce and Damon were ready for some relaxation. Their classes ended at three o’clock, in theory, but on this first day actually earlier in most cases. Bryce and Damon met at the Union, and walked together to their apartment. There, they found a note from Maddy Manning inviting them to have dinner with their second floor neighbors. Bryce immediately phoned and accepted, and was told to show up between 5:30 and 6:00. The evening settled, the guys put in a short time on their classes, then played a video game until it was time to move to the back apartment.
Their knock on the back apartment door was answered by Curtis, who pretended he did not know why they were there.
“Hi, Bryce. What’s up? It’s not time for the fitness center. Is Damon coming to work out this time?” he teased.
“I don’t know what’s up with you,” Bryce replied, “but your better half invited us for dinner.”
“And that definitely make her the better half,” Damon added. “Work out, indeed!”
“Curtis, let the guys in,” Maddy called from down the hall.
They made their way past Curtis, who was still pretending he did not know why they were there. “Is something wrong? Did Bryce burn you guys out again?”
“Can it,” Bryce told him. “I’ve heard enough about the smoke alarm incident.”
“Oooh, touchy,” Curtis teased. “Is that any way to speak to your president?”
“You’re only the president at the fraternity house,” Bryce responded.
“I wish Dr. Burnett agreed with you on that,” Curtis said, abandoning his kidding.
“Have a rough interview?” Damon asked.
“Yeah. Yesterday, in fact. He basically called me in and reamed me out for not letting Lomax and Campbell back into the fraternity without even consulting the membership. When I tried to convey the feeling of last Tuesday’s meeting, he was not pleased, and pretty much cut me off and told me to do it. You would have been proud of me. I stood our ground, and told him it would require a vote of the entire membership. I am currently persona non grata in the Student Affairs office,” Curtis related.
“Sorry you had to put up with that shit,” Damon said. “Next meeting, I’ll introduce a motion of thanks.” Curtis thought he was kidding, but Damon was serious. He felt very strongly about the support he was being given by his fraternity brothers, and Curtis was the personification of that support at present.
Maddy appeared, decked in an apron, and announced that dinner would be ready in about a half hour. Damon asked to help in the kitchen, mentioning that he was now responsible for all cooking in the front apartment. He quickly moved some distance from Bryce as he made that statement. Then Maddy and Damon retreated to the kitchen chuckling. Curtis offered Bryce a drink before dinner, and, when his guest accepted, poured a Bourbon for both of them.
“There’s more to the Lomax story,” Curtis said as he handed Bryce his drink.
“What now?”
“It seems that our beloved ex-brother has a younger sibling. Would you believe that Bickford Lomax has a brother named Buckminster Lomax? Where the hell do people come up with these names?” Curtis wondered.
“Postpartum depression has been suggested,” Bryce replied.
“Postpartum my foot. This bears every sign of being with malice aforethought,” Curtis declared.
“We need to be careful. Both you and I are called by what’re essentially family names. Bryce was my mother’s maiden name. Curtis is likewise a family name, although like Wayne and Lee it has long been used as a given name. I at least have the respectability of James at the beginning if I chose to use it. What about you, Percival?” Bryce teased, using Curtis’s middle name, which he had learned about at the wedding back in June.
“You mention that outside these walls and you are in for big trouble. How would you like to be in charge of rousting everyone out for highway clean-up every other Saturday morning before seven a.m.?” Curtis threatened.
“Oh, no, Sir. Anything you say, Sir. Please don’t do that to me, Sir. I’ll behave, Sir,” Bryce clowned.
Curtis laughed. “By the way, we do have clean-up tomorrow morning. That was mentioned at the meeting on Tuesday, and e-mail reminders have been sent to all the brothers by our efficient secretary, Terry.”
“I haven’t even looked at my e-mail since this morning,” Bryce admitted.
“Well, don’t forget. We’ll be short-handed as it is, with brothers not all back yet,” Curtis reminded him. “And, we have the first game of the season tomorrow as well. That was also in the reminder Terry sent out.
“Things are beginning to pile up,” Bryce commented.
“Oh, I almost forgot one of the more interesting tidbits from my friendly discussion with our Vice-President for Student Affairs. The brother, who goes by Buck, is planning to pledge Sigma Alpha Tau,” Curtis imparted.
“He’ll have a snowball’s chance in hell unless he’s a lot different than his brother,” Bryce predicted.
“No. He seems to be cut out of the same cloth. I talked to Beau Lyle last spring, remember, when he introduced us to his cousin and his cousin’s friend. Well, I saw him again this afternoon, and he refreshed my memory. Beau’s cousin and his friend were on their school’s lacrosse team, and had a run-in with Buck there, it seems. I don’t know all the ins and outs. It was a short conversation, but basically it seems homophobia runs in the Lomax family,” Curtis said.
“Just what we don’t need. There’s enough around without asking for more,” Bryce lamented.
At that time, Damon reappeared to announce, in his most pretentious fake British accent, “Dinner is served.”
The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant conversation and, as far as Bryce was concerned, grateful acceptance of Maddy’s cooking without even a single mention of burned offerings or fire alarms. They did not stay up late, as Curtis reminded them again of the trash pick-up in the morning.
In the morning, Bryce, Damon, and Curtis walked to the fraternity house, where Vice-President Bob Balducci was trying to organize the pick-up. At least at this time of year it would be light and warm, unlike some of the winter occasions the guys talked about as they milled about. Eventually, they got off the ground, although those who did turn up would have to do more work than they would have liked. As one result of the poor turnout it was late morning when the crew got back to the fraternity house, but those who worked had put in their first contribution to civic responsibility for the new academic year. The highway section assigned to SAT leading from town to the airport looked considerably neater than it had the day before.
As a reward for their services, those who had participated in the clean-up were provided with beer and pizza for lunch at fraternity expense. The difficulty was keeping the slackers who did not turn out from horning in on the rewards. Eventually, after the third time, Curtis posted two hefty brothers at the door to the assembly room where they were eating to check anyone trying to enter against a list compiled by Balducci of those who actually worked.
Seeing a lazy brother being turned away, Damon commented, “Now that is what I call a welfare cheat.”
This was met by considerable laughter, as the brother being ejected was known to make comments about welfare cheats on a frequent basis.
Later that afternoon, all the brothers turned out for the opening football game of the season. Most had dates. As they had done in the past, Bryce and Damon invited dates, primarily to support the team, but also because they enjoyed the company of the girls. Bryce escorted Caroline Koehler, although she spent more time talking to Damon than to him. They had formed a mutual interest in cooking. Damon was officially the escort of Kitty Jansen, the girl with whom he liked to dance at parties. Bryce was heard to grumble in a not very convincing manner about his boyfriend being a female magnet. In fact, they all had a wonderful time, especially as U of C won its first game. After the game, they reassembled at the fraternity house and spent the rest of the day partying. At that party, Damon and Kitty showed that they had not lost their touch during the summer, but put on an impressive display.
In the morning, as the guys were descending the stairs on their way to breakfast, they were accosted by their landlord, Dr. Caldwell.
“If you boys have nothing on your calendars for this afternoon, I would be pleased if you would join me for tea and light refreshments at four,” he invited.
“Gee, Dr. Caldwell, we’d love to,” Bryce answered, “but, you see, Damon and I volunteer at the St. Vincent de Paul soup kitchen on Sunday afternoons from four to seven. I really don’t think we can leave them short-handed.”
“No, no. Of course not. Volunteer at the soup kitchen. Very public spirited of you. Perhaps some other time,” their landlord conceded, although he looked disappointed.
“Yes. Some other time would be great,” Bryce told him.
As they walked to the car, Bryce said to Damon, “I hated to say no, but I really don’t think we should be short-changing the soup kitchen, even if Dr. Caldwell is lonely.”
“You’re right. They do need us there, and we can visit with Dr. Caldwell some other time.” Damon chuckled, “Maybe he’ll catch Curtis and Maddy.”
“Thinking of our fellow renters, have you encountered the guys in the carriage house?” Bryce asked.
“No, I haven’t met them yet,” Damon said.
“I met them on Friday on the way to class. It was odd. I don’t know exactly what it was, but they seemed real anxious to get away from me for some reason,” Bryce mused.
“It’s your after shave. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, Boyfriend. Eau de decomposing skunk just is not a socially acceptable scent,” Damon teased.
That led to a scuffle until they got in the car.
Later the guys met the Sandoval group in the parking lot at St. Boniface. The entire crew were there, Isobel, Mike, Kyle, Terry, David Simpson, and Kathy Collins. Kathy was less than three weeks away from her due date, and was clearly uncomfortable much of the time, but she soldiered on. Kyle was being very supportive and attentive, having learned the hard way that a pregnant woman is no one to tangle with. David was obviously glad to be back in Clifton, and Mike was obviously glad to have him back. Mike and Kyle’s younger sister, Terry, was now 14 and a freshman in high school. With the supreme confidence of her age, she clearly thought both her brothers were silly.
As soon as they entered the church, they knew something was wrong. Whereas they were usually met with soothing and uplifting, or possibly challenging music, the sounds emanating from the choir loft were harsh and grating. Bryce was able quietly to ask Deacon Jeffers whether there was something wrong with the organ.
“We’re auditioning a new music director,” was the Deacon’s answer.
“You mean he’s doing this on purpose?” Bryce asked.
The other man just gave him a look which said he did not want to commit himself any further.
The processional hymn was one neither Bryce nor anyone else in the group had heard of before, and also demanded an unusual tempo. Some of the words did not seem to fit into the lines, as though they were just squeezed in without any attention to scansion. To make matters even more of a problem, when it came time for the sermon, Deacon O’Malley mounted the ambo. Bryce and Damon had not yet heard from him since returning to Clifton, and had mercifully forgotten how bad he could be. Like Deacon Jeffers, he was not a gifted speaker, but unlike his colleague he went on for an unconscionable length, and, moreover, lacked the obvious passion exhibited by Jeffers. During the offertory, when the collection was being taken up and then the priest was offering the bread and wine to God, the choir usually sang a nice piece to encourage meditation. This morning, though, they attempted a very complicated polyphonic piece of modern date, which they were not prepared to perform. It sounded like several choirs all singing different hymns at the same time, and none of them on key. By the time Mass was over, Bryce was thoroughly disgusted with the experience.
“That was almost enough to send me back to the Newman Center,” he commented. “Almost, but not quite.”
“Can’t say I enjoyed that much,” Damon concurred.
“I think my baby is upset,” Kathy lamented.
“I’ll try to find out from my friend who sings in the choir what was going on,” Isobel promised. “I must admit, I found that disturbing as well.”
“It was so bad that I was constantly distracted from the Mass itself, wondering what new atrocity would be perpetrated on us,” Mike summed up his feelings.
Their evaluation of the music took up not only time in the parking lot after Mass, but also at the Olive Garden over Sunday dinner. They then moved on to what was usually a more pleasant topic, Kathy’s approaching delivery of Kyle’s child. However, she broke into tears when she reported that her parents once again raised the possibility of putting the child up for adoption.
“Sometimes adoption is the best solution, but we have already planned to raise the child in our home until Kyle and Kathy can get married and set up on their own. I don’t know why they can’t leave it be,” Isobel said.
“I know why,” Kathy said with some bitterness. “If the baby is put up for adoption, we may never see him again, and they can pretend this never happened. They’re still hoping Kyle and I will break up. Then, I can marry someone ‘respectable,’ meaning unadulterated white.” Kathy was so angry at her parents she practically spat out the words.
Everyone attempted to comfort her, with Kyle being foremost.
“Now I’m sorry I didn’t agree when Kyle offered to marry me back in June. A decent set of wedding photos is not worth all this,” Kathy lamented.
“Babe, if you’re serious, we can go see Father Fenwick later today, and see what the earliest date available might be. I know the diocese requires at least three months of marriage preparation sessions, but we could still be married before Christmas, maybe even by Thanksgiving,” Kyle offered, holding her hand and kissing her.
“Really? I am so ready to get out of my parents’ house. They have been nothing but hateful, even before I became pregnant. I’m sick and tired of their prejudices,” Kathy said, leaning against her fiancé.
“I will certainly support you two if that’s what you decide to do. But there is something you need to consider. Kathy is still 17, and legally a minor. She will require her parents’ permission to marry before turning 18,” Isobel cautioned them.
Nonetheless, Kyle and Kathy determined to look into the earliest possible date for a wedding.
Back in their apartment after an interesting, but hardly edifying, Sunday morning, Bryce and Damon spent some time discussing their friends. They were disgusted with the attitude of Kathy’s parents, but admired that of the Sandovals, who never wavered in their support. By the time they analyzed the situation for the tenth time, and then handled some e-mail correspondence, it was time for Bryce to check in with his mother. He spent some time relating to her the woes of his friends Kyle and Kathy. In the process, he expressed his gratitude for the accepting attitude of his family, and especially his mother. Martha was pleased that her younger son appreciated her.
Changing the subject, Bryce asked his mother about help with his project to trace the ancestry of Damon. He explained about Damon feeling he had no roots. Martha praised her son’s thoughtfulness, and gave him some useful advice, drawing on her rather extensive knowledge of genealogical research. After all, Martha belonged to about two dozen lineage societies, and had herself done all the research required for admission. She suggested contacting the Illinois state office of vital statistics and getting a copy of Damon’s birth certificate. That could be a starting point, and would give the age of his father at the time of birth. Perhaps the best help, however, was giving her son the information that she subscribed to Ancestry.com, Legacy.com, and FamilyTreeMaker.com, three on-line genealogical sources. She gave him her username and passwords for these sites, so he could make use of the internet in his researches more effectively than scanning obituaries in Chicago newspapers. At least, he could do searches, and not have to plow thought everything. This conversation, of course, took place while Damon was distracted answering e-mail from his African contacts.
After Damon in his turn had spoken to Martha, he insisted on speaking to Sterling as well, and thanked him feelingly for his help in finding a decent job for his sister. One of Damon’s e-mails had been from Vanessa, who not only reported that the job was going well, but also that, even this soon, she could tell the difference in the children. They seemed less tense, less cautious, less expecting something bad to happen. For that, both mother and uncle were profoundly grateful to Sterling Winslow.
As Bryce and Damon were leaving their apartment on their way to pick up DeShawn and Malcolm, they encountered Annette Rimbault and Ken Broussard on the stairs. Not the Mannings, it seemed, but this couple were the invited guests for tea with Dr. Caldwell this afternoon. Annette actually seemed to like the prospect, but Ken sighed, indicating it was something he put up with in order to keep the peace, not only with his landlord, but also with his partner.
At the soup kitchen, two topics dominated the conversation when they were not so busy preparing and serving the meal as to swamp all extraneous talk. Deacon Jeffers wanted to know whether the fraternity boys would be back to help serve meals. The soup kitchen was open seven days a week, and so required a considerable amount of volunteer labor. Thanks to Bryce and Damon, last year Sigma Alpha Tau had voted to adopt this as one of their civic projects, and had supplied a significant amount of that labor, but they were slow getting back in the groove this year. Bryce promised to raise the issue at the fraternity meeting on Tuesday.
Not surprisingly, the other topic of conversation was the musical offerings at Mass that morning. Isobel had contacted her friend in the choir, who, she reported, was so distraught by the experience of the past week that she threatened to quit the choir if the candidate who was in charge this morning was hired. The man held one rehearsal, on Thursday evening, and expected them to perform entirely new music. None of it dated to before World War I. He commented that he wanted to bring St. Boniface into the twenty-first century. In his quiet, soft-spoken manner, Deacon Jeffers told Isobel to assure her friend that she need not worry. The rectory phone had been ringing off the hook all day, despite the fact that they were not officially open for business in the parish office. He had stopped by to pick up a volunteer on the way to the soup kitchen, and had spoken with a very frazzled Father Fenwick. That was a consolation to all those who heard.
Bryce had considered attending at least some of the opening day of the World Championship Horse Show at the state fairgrounds, but they did not get away from the soup kitchen until after seven o’clock. He did not yet have tickets. Beau had promised that he and Damon could sit in the box rented each year by the Lyle family, but had not as yet delivered tickets or even information about where that box was located. As a result, Bryce abandoned that half-formed idea, and he and Damon retreated to Pat’s for the evening. There, they spent several hours with friends, just talking and enjoying the camaraderie. Tomorrow would begin the first day of their first full week of classes. They needed the relaxation.