The Hathaway

Almost Famous

Kevin’s story reminded me so much of what Sylas had showed me a couple of years ago. It was sad to realize how little things had changed. He continued to tease us about making too much noise, but we stopped worrying about it. Between his revelations and the realization that Ash had also come from a violent home, it seemed increasingly important that we model for them what a loving relationship really looked like on all levels. We weren’t going to invite them up to watch, but neither were we going to hide the fact that our relationship was sexual as well as emotional. Again, we drew on the policy of radical transparency with healthy boundaries.

By the time the weekend rolled around Helmut and Ben declared the carriage house to be at a level that Helmut could move in. All that remained was for the building inspector to take a look, but he wasn’t going to be available until sometime next week. Helmut, however, wasn’t going to wait. I caught him moving some of his clothes and he said, “I’m not moving in. I’m just...storing stuff there until it’s approved. I’m still living in that room you’ve had me in.” I knew better, he had been anxious for some privacy for a while now, probably so he could strip down and hang out in his jock strap without worrying about upsetting the social workers. I understood and didn’t make a fuss, even when I glanced out after midnight and saw the lights still on.

Saturday morning Sabina asked if she could go over to the boarding house to play with Emma, and while the social workers on duty didn’t quite understand, I assured them it was ok and offered to take her there myself, When we arrived there were a few extra cars in the driveway and I realized that the two new boarders must be moving in. Mr. P was making himself available to answer questions and help them get settled. “Is Andi around?” I asked him.

“She’s in her room, trying to stay out of the way until things settle down.”  She smiled down at Sabina and added, “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

Sabina gave him a broad smile. ‘I came to play with Emma. Is that alright?”

“Of course, dear, though I’m not sure where you might do that, so much going on in here today.”

“She’s upstairs with Andi, can I go up there?”

Mr. P. looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think Andi will mind the company.”

“Alright,” I agreed. “Can you find her room by yourself?”

“Of course,” she looked at me like I was slow. “Emma has already shown me.”

“Just make sure you knock before going in.” I instructed her.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, “Emma has already told Andi I’m coming.” She ran up the stairs as if she had know this house for years.

“That child is amazing,” Mr. P. muttered as she passed out of sight. He then turned to me with a grin and added, “You should meet your replacements.” One of the students was just descending the stairs to grab another box from is parent’s car. “Pete, come meet Joey.”

He stuck out his hand and smiled. “Hi, I’m Pete LaBree.”

“Nice to meet you Pete,” I shook his hand and asked, “What you studying?

“Advanced mathematics and physics. Second year. Don’t I look the part?” He offered a crooked grin and I realized he presented as the typical nerd, short sleeve plaid shirt, pocket protector, thick glasses and all. He was tall and lean, clean shaven, and had short brown hair.

I grinned back. “You do indeed, but I bet there’s more to you than just that.”

He actually blushed and looked down. Mr. P. said, “He has Ben’s old room, and Missy has your old room. She’s around here somewhere.”

He turned to look for her and Pete ventured, “Oh…You’re that Joey? The one who wrote the book about the ghosts?”

It was my turn to look down and be embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I loved that story. It was so sad, but so...I don’t know, empowering.” He paused for a moment before adding, “That was the book that made me decide to come out to my parents.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

He took my hand again and shook it with vigor. “I’ve got to introduce you to my father. I made him read it when I came out and he said it helped him figure out how to respond.” He ran off to find his father, leaving me filled with questions. I headed into the living room to consider, when Mr. P. brought Missy from the kitchen.

“I found her, she was packing stuff into her alcove downstairs.” Mr. P. led her to me and said, “This is Joey, he used to have your room till just a few weeks ago. Now he lives in a mansion.”

“It’s not a mansion,” I replied, shooting Mr. P. an evil look, “Just big, and besides, we only have the third floor. The lower two floors are occupied by a non-profit safe house for displaced LGBTQ youth.

Missy’s eyes got big. “Really? I’m studying to be a social worker. I’d love to see it sometime.”

I laughed. “You’re in the right place then, Sylvia, one of your housemates is our administrator. Just ask, I’m sure she’d be happy to bring you in.” Turning to Mr. P. I asked, “Is Sylvia here?”

“I’m afraid not. She decided to take the weekend and get away. It has been a busy couple of weeks, after all.” I nodded, and he continued with a meaningful glance, “She didn’t go alone.”

“Really?” I was intrigued.

“Beth picked her up early this morning.” He raised another eyebrow and grinned.

“Did she?” I chuckled to myself, “Good for her.”

Just then Pete Excitedly dragged his father in through the front door. “This is Joseph Preston,” He chattered as he led him to me. “He wrote ‘Echos of the Past’.”

He looked me up and down as he drew closer, then smiled and extended his hand. “Herb LaBree.” he said. “Nice to meet you. Very good book, had quite an impact on Pete here.” He put his arm around his son and it was clear he didn’t need my advice to deal with his son’s honesty.

“So I understand. I’m glad he enjoyed it.” I turned to him and said, “I’ll be happy to sign it for you sometime if..”

His eyes got even bigger and he interrupted, “It’s upstairs, I’ll go get it.”

He ran up the stairs and I turned to his day laughing. “I never expected it to have that kind of an impact.”

“He just needed a little push,” Herb said. “We already knew he was gay, and it was fine. I guess he needed to get over his fears of what we might do, and your book seemed to show him that things are better now than they were in the past. That seemed to be just enough for him to get up the courage to tell us.”

“Well, it really depends, things aren’t always better.” I was reminded of the stories Kevin had told us the other day, “But it seems you’re doing your part to make things better. Good to see.” Pete came charging down the stairs and I signed his book for him.

“You wrote a novel?” Missy asked as I signed it.

“Sort of, it’s really based on true events, most of which happened right here in the boarding house.” Mr. P. gave me a glance and I immediately understood that Missy was not familiar with the ghost stories yet, so I deferred to his discretion on how to let her know about them. “You can ask Mr. Phipps, he can give you the low down on what was real and what was fictional.”

I excused myself to the kitchen, so the new students could continue unpacking, and helped myself to a glass of juice from the fridge. After a moment, Mr. P. joined me. “So much energy,” he sighed as he sat with me at the breakfast table. “I may be getting a little too old for this.”

“I thought Navy Seals didn’t give up.”

He smiled wearily, “That was a long time ago.” After a moment he added, “Besides, who said anything about quitting? I’m just voicing my weariness, and at my age, I think it’s somewhat understandable.”

I took a good look at the tired man who sat across from me. He must have been about the same age as my own father, and I realized that since I moved here I had kind of looked to him as almost a parent figure. “It is understandable. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course, always.”

“Can I call you Phil?”

He looked up in surprise. “What brought that on?”

“I was just...I was thinking how you feel like family to me. Real family, not just the gay shorthand kind. And, I don’t know, ‘Mr. Phipps’ just seems so formal.”

He reached over and took my hand. “Of course you can, my boy. Thank you for asking.” He seemed about to shed a tear or two when he added, “Of course, Miss McFiercesen wouldn’t appreciate being called Phil.”

I laughed, “I wouldn’t dream of it. Does she have a first name?”

“But of course,” he responded with a wave of his hands, “But only one person gets to use that. ‘Miss M.’ will be just fine.”

I lifted his hand and kissed it. “Absolutely.”

At this point a breathless Andi walked in. In a low voice, so as not to alarm the new tenants, she said, “You’ve got to come and see this!”