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Summer Story Chapter six, part 19
The end of chapter six part 19, split up. So this is kind th first bit. it gets confusing so don't wory, just read.*G*
The Previous Parts are here, drinking Tanqueray and juice 'cause they love Snoop.
Summer Story
Abbie stood, hands on hips, and looked around. The apartment was nice. It was bright and sunny, filled with lovely furniture and just the right amount of afro-centric details, enough to be political without being radical. Sheryl’s touch, no doubt. She nodded. Yes. She’d hired a very gifted designer to ‘do their place’. It was…tasteful, elegant.
She sat on the couch and waited for Sam to speak. He smiled at her.
“So, mom—how do you like the place?”
I love it, honey. was on her tongue. What came out was, “I hate it Sam.”
He grinned wider, “God! Me too! It’s just--just….”
“Pretentious ands slick?” she offered. “ Soulless? Cold and--”
“Thank you mother, yes, all that,” Sam grinned wryly.
Well. She smiled briefly and then put her business face on. “All right, you want to tell me why you asked us up here, son? “ she sat back on the very comfortable couch and crossed her ankles and waited.
“Actually, I wanted to know—I might need to come home for a while.” He sat across from her, stiff faced and slightly nervous.
“Do you want to wait until your father can hear this too?” She asked, eyebrows raised.
“No, ma’m, what I’ve got to say I want to say to you.”
Abbie waited.
“I’m getting a divorce.” He paused and looked at his mother but Abbie didn’t move or speak. He went on. “She’s at her parent’s this week, at the end of the week, I’m out of here. And this is all hers.”
“She’ll be happy here.” She said, and waited again.
“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m leaving my job.”
Abbie started to speak and sat back again. She wasn’t having that fight either. She nodded.
“And—I want to make things better with Whit.”
She closed her eyes and sank back against the couch. She counted to ten—and counted again.
“There’s nothing I can say about that, Samuel. You have to do what you think is right for you.”
“Thanks Mom, he said, immediately on the defensive. “Thanks for being behind me one hundred per-cent. Like always. Glad you’re not blaming Whit for any of this,” he snapped.
“Whit’s not at fault here, not in the least. He’s doing everything he can to lead a normal life, even when the people around him haven’t helped much.” She watched Sam blush and scowl at her without responding—she waited.
Sam made a disgusted noise and flung himself back in his chair, arms crossed and staring at her. It hurt to see him in pain, of course it did—but coddling wasn’t what he needed, she thought. It was about time for him to step up to the plate—for both of them to do so.
“It’s always about blame with you, ma—it’s always my fault! You just can’t stand the thought I’m gay. You’re so prejudiced.”
She shook her head. “You think I’m prejudiced? Maybe you’re right. It’s always easy when it’s someone else’s kid to be understanding and accepting. It’s a world of difference when it’s your own and you’ve been raised your whole life to think it’s wrong. No.” She held up her hand “I do not think it s wrong anymore, at least I don’t think I do…but it’s just--- different when it’s your baby, I can’t explain, you just have to take my word for it. And Sam, hon--what you say, it makes me sad. It worries me, as far as society goes--you’ve already got one strike against you, now you’ve got another.”
He made a noise that cut through her, but she kept on speaking. “I know you haven’t been happy for a long time. I don’t have answers and I don’t know what the future’s going to bring you. I *want* you to be happy son. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you”
Sam dropped his head into his hands “Mom—Mom, you don’t know- I feel like dying sometimes.” He drew in a deep shaky breath and said, “Sometimes I think it’d be easier for you and Dad---and me, if I was…it’s not fair.”
Abbie sat silently, watched him struggle with himself. This thing was something he had to come to grips with on his own. She sat and watched him as long as she could stand to.
She got up and sat next to him, put her arm around him. The minute she touched him, he almost crawled into her lap and he cried. She struggled not to cry herself; she had to be strong for him-she’d allow herself to cry later. Strength was what he needed now. He needed to be reminded how strong he was. He’d get through this too. Nobody was going to stand in his way, least of all her.
tbc
The Previous Parts are here, drinking Tanqueray and juice 'cause they love Snoop.
Summer Story
Abbie stood, hands on hips, and looked around. The apartment was nice. It was bright and sunny, filled with lovely furniture and just the right amount of afro-centric details, enough to be political without being radical. Sheryl’s touch, no doubt. She nodded. Yes. She’d hired a very gifted designer to ‘do their place’. It was…tasteful, elegant.
She sat on the couch and waited for Sam to speak. He smiled at her.
“So, mom—how do you like the place?”
I love it, honey. was on her tongue. What came out was, “I hate it Sam.”
He grinned wider, “God! Me too! It’s just--just….”
“Pretentious ands slick?” she offered. “ Soulless? Cold and--”
“Thank you mother, yes, all that,” Sam grinned wryly.
Well. She smiled briefly and then put her business face on. “All right, you want to tell me why you asked us up here, son? “ she sat back on the very comfortable couch and crossed her ankles and waited.
“Actually, I wanted to know—I might need to come home for a while.” He sat across from her, stiff faced and slightly nervous.
“Do you want to wait until your father can hear this too?” She asked, eyebrows raised.
“No, ma’m, what I’ve got to say I want to say to you.”
Abbie waited.
“I’m getting a divorce.” He paused and looked at his mother but Abbie didn’t move or speak. He went on. “She’s at her parent’s this week, at the end of the week, I’m out of here. And this is all hers.”
“She’ll be happy here.” She said, and waited again.
“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m leaving my job.”
Abbie started to speak and sat back again. She wasn’t having that fight either. She nodded.
“And—I want to make things better with Whit.”
She closed her eyes and sank back against the couch. She counted to ten—and counted again.
“There’s nothing I can say about that, Samuel. You have to do what you think is right for you.”
“Thanks Mom, he said, immediately on the defensive. “Thanks for being behind me one hundred per-cent. Like always. Glad you’re not blaming Whit for any of this,” he snapped.
“Whit’s not at fault here, not in the least. He’s doing everything he can to lead a normal life, even when the people around him haven’t helped much.” She watched Sam blush and scowl at her without responding—she waited.
Sam made a disgusted noise and flung himself back in his chair, arms crossed and staring at her. It hurt to see him in pain, of course it did—but coddling wasn’t what he needed, she thought. It was about time for him to step up to the plate—for both of them to do so.
“It’s always about blame with you, ma—it’s always my fault! You just can’t stand the thought I’m gay. You’re so prejudiced.”
She shook her head. “You think I’m prejudiced? Maybe you’re right. It’s always easy when it’s someone else’s kid to be understanding and accepting. It’s a world of difference when it’s your own and you’ve been raised your whole life to think it’s wrong. No.” She held up her hand “I do not think it s wrong anymore, at least I don’t think I do…but it’s just--- different when it’s your baby, I can’t explain, you just have to take my word for it. And Sam, hon--what you say, it makes me sad. It worries me, as far as society goes--you’ve already got one strike against you, now you’ve got another.”
He made a noise that cut through her, but she kept on speaking. “I know you haven’t been happy for a long time. I don’t have answers and I don’t know what the future’s going to bring you. I *want* you to be happy son. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you”
Sam dropped his head into his hands “Mom—Mom, you don’t know- I feel like dying sometimes.” He drew in a deep shaky breath and said, “Sometimes I think it’d be easier for you and Dad---and me, if I was…it’s not fair.”
Abbie sat silently, watched him struggle with himself. This thing was something he had to come to grips with on his own. She sat and watched him as long as she could stand to.
She got up and sat next to him, put her arm around him. The minute she touched him, he almost crawled into her lap and he cried. She struggled not to cry herself; she had to be strong for him-she’d allow herself to cry later. Strength was what he needed now. He needed to be reminded how strong he was. He’d get through this too. Nobody was going to stand in his way, least of all her.
tbc
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