The Gus Diaries

Part 62

Compassion
 

Thanksgiving had really been amazing. It seemed that everything in our family was perfect. Grandma Jen and Tucker were finally going to get married and Uncle Ben was looking healthier and more like himself every day. The best part was that Britin still retained its magic for Dad and Pop and Jeff and me. At least I thought it did until a few days ago.

I came home with Pop after helping Uncle Michael close the store and having dinner with Jeff at the diner. Dad and Pop were planning to have a late supper by themselves while I was doing my homework. Both of them had been really busy now that they were in the throes of the holiday season.

Apparently, rich people like to buy or commission works of art as holiday gifts. Pop had already completed three portraits and was selling everything that hung on the walls of the Taylor-Bloom Gallery. Mom was busy just trying to keep up with all the patrons. It seemed that the customers couldn’t get enough. Pop even mentioned that he thought one or two of the patrons kept returning because they liked to flirt with Mom. I laughed at that, but deep down I hoped it was true and that she might even chance a date soon.

Dad, on the other hand, said he felt like, ‘a fucking octopus’, trying to keep all his clients in line and happy as their advertising expanded with the holidays approaching. Every one of them was on Dad’s case, wanting to make sure their ads would be distributed in just the right places, at just the right pace. He was pretty exhausted -- hell, they both were.

I tried to stay out of their way. It was safe, and gave them one less thing to think about.

Pop and I got home before Dad, as we knew we would. Pop was going to start dinner so it would be ready when Dad finally got home.

“Do you want any help?”

“No, Gus, I think I can handle it,” Pop smiled. “We’re just going to have a light supper anyway. Neither of us has the energy or desire to fill up.”

“When does all this let up?”

“For me, most of it will let up about a week before the holidays. The purchase of fine art isn’t usually a last minute idea.” Pop started putting together a salad as he spoke. “However, Brian doesn’t have it so easy. His clients will be at him until after the post-holiday sales, and then he moves right into the Valentine’s Day season.”

“Shit! I forgot about that. It doesn’t seem fair that he’s worked so hard and he still can’t have some of his staff take over more.”

“Part of Kinnetik’s initial concept and selling point, was that it would be a boutique agency where clients wouldn’t simply meet the boss once, and then get foisted off to an account exec, never to see the president again.”

“I know, but Kinnetik has grown a lot. Can’t he delegate a little?”

“He does, but your dad has a strong work ethic, and that includes giving his clients exactly what they signed on for, from the beginning.”

I was proud of Dad. He really took care of everybody, not just us, but all the people he did business with, and for, as well. “I’m gonna head upstairs and work on my homework.”

“Okay. See you a little later. I know you’ve already eaten, but when Brian finally comes home, why don’t you come down and sit with us for a little while, if you can find the time to take a break.”

“That sounds great. Later.”

Pop looked up and smiled, “Later.”

Dad didn’t show up for another hour and a half. I was almost done with all my homework. It seemed like the teachers wanted to ease up on grading papers during the holiday season. They were probably too busy shopping after work.

I started to head downstairs to greet him, and then join them while they had their very late supper, but stopped dead in my tracks at the top of the stairs when I heard the yelling.

“What the fuck do you want me to do about it? I’m not your fucking keeper; you made sure of that years ago.” I sat down on the fourth step from the top and looked down towards the entranceway. Dad was yelling into his cell phone.

That’s when I noticed Pop approach him from the kitchen. He was obviously as concerned as I was, probably more so. Pop tried to help Dad remove his coat but was shrugged off pretty briskly so he just took a step back, waited and listened.

“No, I have no intention of coming, at least not that way.” There was a short pause while Dad was listening to whomever was on the other end. “Yeah, well I don’t give a shit about blood, sweat or tears. Your mother didn’t give a shit about me and I don’t give a shit about her. That makes us the ideal siblings.”

More silence, but only for a moment. “You may have been the asshole that accused me, but your mother went along with your fucking bullshit. She should have known better.” Another brief pause, “Then you sit with her and moan and groan. I was finished years ago. Didn’t you notice my absence for the last thirteen Christmases?”

One more moment of listening and a final, “Fuck you, too, and your mother.” Then Dad snapped the phone shut so fiercely, I thought it would break into pieces.

Pop tentatively touched Dad’s shoulder, “Brian?”

“Don’t, just don’t.” Dad threw his coat on the table near the front door and put his laptop on top of it.

“Don’t what? Don’t love you, support you, be concerned about you? Which ‘don’t’ should I observe after witnessing, and listening to that conversation?” Pop tried to stay calm but it obviously wasn’t easy.

Dad glared at Pop. “You want to know so you can fucking take care of me or make it all better? Well, you can’t heal everything and everyone, Sunshine,” he practically spit at Pop with his venomous tone.

“What the fuck is going on? You act like I was the one at the other end of that phone call.”

“Okay, let’s see how you like this one. My goddamned sister has been stricken with the family disease.” Now I was really confused.

Pop looked at Dad. “I didn’t think she was a drinker.”

Dad huffed a bitter laugh, “Not liver damage, she has fucking cancer -- and here’s the kicker, it’s lung cancer from years of second hand smoke from Jack, her ex and that shit, John, included me.”

“Oh, Brian.” Pop grabbed Dad and pulled him in for a hug, despite Dad’s resistance. Dad finally acquiesced, and he held Pop back and the two stood there silently for what seemed like ages.

When they finally separated, Dad looked at Pop. “Do you know why that little shit thought it was necessary to tell me?”

“I assume because he thought as Claire’s brother you should know.”

Dad made a noise like a buzzer on a game show. “Sorry, Sunshine, wrong answer. That would take into consideration that somehow that asshole had grown up into a fairly decent human being, but unfortunately he spent way too many years with his Grandma Joan.”

“So why did he call?” Pop whispered. I could tell he didn’t want to hear the answer, and I wasn’t sure that I did either.

“Dear old Johnny Boy called to ask me to pay for any bills Claire might have, beyond those that insurance will pay because he can’t afford it and her savings are nonexistent.” Dad paused but it was obvious there was more. “And then to add fucking insult to injury, he doesn’t want me to upset his mommy by visiting or contacting her since she really doesn’t want anything to do with me, and neither do any of the rest of them. I’m just supposed to send him a check, made out to him, for the balance of her medical care.”

Pop looked at Dad and ran his hand softly over his hair. “Who the fuck does he think he is? The last time he had any contact with you, he was stealing cash, and accusing you of molesting him, and now he’s back to stealing cash again.”

Dad and Pop moved into the front living room and I moved further down the stairs. “Brian, what are you going to do?”

I could hear Dad pacing back and forth. He didn’t actually speak until he stopped moving. “The first thing I’m going to do is confirm that Claire’s actually sick and this isn’t some insane story so that asshole can get money out of me.”

“You can’t think he’d make something like that up?”

“You don’t think so?”

Pop barely hesitated with his response, “You’re right. You’d better double-check.”

“Then I’m going to see my damn sister and find out if she put him up to this and...”

There was no talking for a moment and then Pop continued softly, “And...”

“And see what she really needs and what condition she’s in.”

“Brian, it’s not like your father’s situation. He didn’t go to his doctor until it was too late. It sounds like Claire will have a long and expensive road ahead of her, but I’m sure she...”

Dad cut him off, “How can you be so sure? If she really doesn’t have decent fucking insurance, maybe she postponed going to the damn doctor for a diagnosis and early treatment.”

I heard some movement in the room. “Come here. Look at me, Brian. You got treated early and it saved your life. Don’t ever regret that. You’re everything to me. I can’t imagine a world without you in it. So don’t start feeling guilty for being fucking alive because you made the right decisions.”

“But Justin...”

“No buts! If we find out Claire fucked up by not getting treated soon enough then I’m sorry, but it’s not your fault. You haven’t been in contact with her since, since...”

“I know, but I’m not sure what the fuck to do, if I should send the money, or visit, even though I’m sure she really doesn’t want to see me.”

“Whether she wants to see you or not, there’s no fucking way I’m going to let you pay for her treatments without seeing her first.”

“Justin...”

“No, Brian, you listen to me. She never apologized -- none of them did. I wanted to kill John, but I wanted to kill Claire even more for being your older sister and not believing, and knowing, you wouldn’t do anything to John. That was totally fucked!”

Even though I wasn’t in the room, I could picture Pop getting red with anger. I’ve heard bits and pieces over the years as to why Dad wasn’t in touch with his sister and her kids, but this just creeped me out. Did my cousin really accuse my Dad of molesting him? And then when everyone found out he was lying, no one apologized -- but even worse, everyone in the Kinney family believed John without even consulting Dad.

I was beginning to feel sick to my stomach. On top of everything, if my Aunt Claire really did have cancer, did that mean that Dad may get his again at some point? I know it really doesn’t work like that, but what if this was a sign that my Dad’s cancer could return, maybe in a different part of his body.

I finally found my footing and completed my trip downstairs. When I entered the front living room, I found Dad and Pop hugging silently. Dad had his head on Pop’s shoulder and Pop was holding onto Dad as if he was the only thing keeping him from falling -- who knows, maybe he was.

“Dad.” The two of them slowly stood up straight.

“Hi, Sonny Boy. I guess you heard most of that.”

“Enough.” I didn’t know how to react so I ended up using as few syllables as possible.

“Do you have any questions?” Pop and Dad were standing a few feet away with their arms wrapped around each other’s waist so they could look at me as we spoke.

“Did John really accuse you of molesting him?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ever apologize when the police found out you didn’t do anything?”

“No.”

“Did Aunt Claire ever apologize for not believing you were innocent?”

“No.”

“Then why would you help her, especially since she didn’t ask for the help?”

“Because that’s what family does, even if they’re a totally fucked up family.” Dad walked over to me. “But I won’t help her until I see her myself. That’s a certainty.”

“You mean until we see her,” Pop added from behind.

“What do you mean, ‘we’?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Pop gently turned Dad by the shoulders so they were face to face. “Don’t you remember when we dealt with Craig?”

“Yes.”

“Good, cause that’s how it’s always going to be. Neither of us works alone anymore. Got it?”

Dad rolled his lips inward. He seemed so, I don’t know, nervous, scared, vulnerable. It wasn’t my usual take-charge father. Then he looked at Pop and quietly said, “Got it.”

Pop drew Dad into a deep and loving kiss. “Good, because there’s no fucking way you’re ever going into any shit like this alone -- remember that.”

“Yes, boss,” Dad smirked.

“And don’t you ever fucking forget it again. Rage never goes into battle without JT.” I saw a small smile creep onto Pop’s face.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, JT?”

“No doubt.”

“Good. I have a feeling without JT, Rage’s power would be significantly reduced.”

Pop looked at both of us and rested his eyes on Dad. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get some dinner.”

“Okay.” Dad took Pop’s hand and the two of them walked towards the kitchen.

“Are you coming, Gus?”

I thought about joining them, but decided to leave them alone instead. “No, I have too much homework. See you later.”

Dad came up to me and kissed me on the forehead. “Thank you, Sonny Boy.”

“No problem, Dad. And whatever happens, I love you.”

“I know, me too.”

[TBC]

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