The Gus Diaries

Part 83

Birthday Present
 

I had all the pieces in place for Dad’s birthday. It would either be a big fat fucking success or the worst disaster I could imagine.

Our typically quiet birthday dinner for Dad was set for last Saturday, and that’s when I was going to put my plan into action.

Of one thing I was certain, I needed Pop on my side to help me pull this off. Without his support nothing would work.

Three days before the big night, Dad had to work late at Kinnetik, so Pop and I were home alone. When it was time for dinner, I made my pitch and he listened carefully. That’s one of the most amazing things about Pop -- he really listens and treats me with respect, never belittling my thoughts.

“Gus, I have to admit that your idea has promise, but I’m still not convinced that your father will be as enthusiastic as we hope he’ll be.”

“I know there’s a risk it’ll backfire, but can’t we at least try? I really want to do this for him, and I think it’s something he’ll be able to accept.”

“What makes you think that?” Pop looked at me as if he honestly had no idea how this could be achieved. I kind of had the feeling this must be what Dad goes through when he’s trying to sell an ad campaign to a new client.

“It’ll work because it’s all about achievement and accomplishment -- it’s not just about growing a year older.”

“I see your point. I just hope Brian doesn’t leave the room, slamming doors and disappearing before he recognizes the event for what it is.”

I looked at Pop, unable to keep the worry out of my voice. “Me too.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 

On Saturday, Uncle Ted had set up a meeting at Kinnetik for the convenience of the client, although it was actually to get Dad out of the house.

Everything was in motion. Pop had ordered the food and the cake from Uncle Emmett, and I confirmed that the guests all knew when to arrive. It was also my way of reminding each of them what their responsibility was for the day.

I kept chewing on my thumbnail, a habit I picked up from Pop, although I didn’t realize it until Dad pointed it out to both of us.

Jeff showed up with Grandma Jen and Tucker a little early. Grandma and Tucker were going to help Pop finish setting everything up in the dining room. Jeff and I went outside to shoot some baskets, but I kept missing the easiest shots.

“Newbie, you’re a fucking bundle of nerves. If Coach saw you today, he’d bust you back to the Kindergarten league.”

I threw the ball at him with a bit too much strength behind it. “Fuck you.”

“Oof! What the fuck was that for?” Jeff started dribbling the ball in place after he caught his breath and rubbed his stomach.

I looked his way and realized what I’d done. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve got a strong gut. But what the hell is going on? You were so damn confident yesterday at school, and now you’re a goddamn basket case.”

He threw the ball back to me and I started dribbling. “I just don’t want him to hate me when this is all over.”

“Hate you? Your Dad thinks you walk on water. He could never hate you.”

I nodded. “He might stop trusting me and my judgment if this doesn’t work.”

“It’s going to work.”

“What makes you so sure? You were the one who thought I should butt out in the first place.”

“Yeah, I was, but this is a brilliant idea. You did it, you made it work and your Dad will recognize that.”

“I sure hope you’re right. I’m so fucking nervous I could puke on the spot.”

Jeff smirked. “How about trying to make a 3-pointer instead?”

I stood far from the basket and focused.

“Swoosh! And the kid scores big.” Jeff used a goofy announcer’s voice.

“You’re such an asshole,” I snorted.

“You’d know best.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 

By two o’clock in the afternoon, everything was in place and all the guests had arrived. Each one was assigned a seat at the dining room table with two left open for Uncle Ted and Dad.

Everyone chatted amicably while I was taking deep breaths to stay calm.

Pop whispered in my ear, “You did a great job. What’s more important is you did your best out of love for your father. Now we can only hope that he remains open-minded.”

I glared at Pop.

“Okay, he’s not necessarily the most open-minded person I know, but for you...”

We all heard the front door open, and I motioned for everyone to be quiet. They all knew the drill and how the afternoon was to proceed, I just hoped they’d cooperate.

I called from the dining room, “Dad, come here.”

“Where the fuck are you, Sonny Boy?”

“I’m in the dining room.”

“Why the hell are you in the...” He walked in with Uncle Ted following behind and froze.

Everyone remained silent as planned.

“This had better not be what I think it is.” I could see the anger building. Dad’s shoulders tensed and his face contorted in disgust.

It was my turn to carry off what I’d started. “Welcome to the Brian Kinney Recognition Dinner.”

“What the fuck? Don’t bullshit me, Sonny Boy...”

I walked up to him and guided him to the head of the table while Uncle Ted took his seat next to Uncle Blake. “I’m not bullshitting you.” I sat next to Dad and faced him. “You’ve always told me...” I gestured to all the friends and family at the table, “...all of us, that the only thing worth celebrating is achievement and accomplishment. Well, I think it’s about time we did the same for you.”

Dad raised his eyebrow and I knew he didn’t trust any of us, so it was time for the actions to make this work.

“Mr. Brian Kinney, ad man extraordinaire, sit back as we, the witnesses to your many attributes, attest to how you’ve achieved greatness... not at work, but as a father, son (I looked at Grandma Deb), brother, husband and friend.”

Each person in the room knew when it would be their turn to speak. The first was Grandma Jen.

She stood up and held a little index card in front of her. “Brian, as you know we had a bumpy start, at best. But I grew to love and respect the role you played in my son’s life. You taught him to be the man he was meant to be and to make the difficult decisions that sometimes accompany maturity. When I thought Justin was lost forever, you were the only one who could reach him. You breathed life back into my son.”

Grandma put down her card and looked directly at Dad. “I’m proud to call you my son, as you have far surpassed son-in-law in my eyes and especially in my heart.”

Grandma Jen sat down and Dad just stared. He looked from me to Pop, his eyes glistening.

“Please stay, Dad.” I wasn’t sure if he would get up and leave the room, but instead he gripped the arms of the chair and nodded his agreement.

The next to stand was Uncle Michael. He opened a slightly wrinkled sheet of notebook paper. “Brian, when Gus asked me to pay tribute to you and keep it brief, I laughed.” Dad smiled at him. “There is so much I could say about our history, but this isn’t about a walk down memory lane, it’s about how you helped me grow.

“Your influence was so important to me, and no more so than when I pondered Ben’s proposal of marriage. I knew how opposed you were to marriage at the time, but I still could only share my thoughts with my closest friend. At first you went through your usual bullshit about marriage, but then you listened to me -- really listened to how I felt.

“I’ll never forget what you said... You’re the writer; rewrite the story. Those were the magic words I needed to free myself from a lifetime of childhood attachment. In that moment, I saw my future, and it was you who helped point me in the right direction. Ben and I are both grateful to have you in our lives.” Uncle Ben looked up and Uncle Michael took his hand and squeezed it as he sat down.

The tributes to Dad continued. Grandma Deb spoke of Dad’s generosity of the heart as well as financially. Mem talked about the joy of her first child. Aunt Claire honored Dad’s ability to forgive, and Uncle Emmett spoke of loyalty and honesty.

When Uncle Ted stood up, he looked at Uncle Blake for a moment and then stood tall, facing Dad. “Brian, when the world thought I was useless and had nothing to offer, you paid no attention. By judging for yourself, you gave me the supreme gift of trust. I don’t think I’d be as content as I am today without your trust, and ultimately your friendship. Whether you like it or not, you’re a model employer, mentor and most of all friend.”

Dad nodded to Uncle Ted. He hadn’t said a word, nor did I expect him to. I was just thrilled that he was staying.

The final two people to speak were me and Pop.

First I stood. “Dad, I’m sure you realize the coincidence of this tribute taking place today. No one deserves to be honored more than you, and if you don’t want to be honored for each year that you share with all of us... with me, then you can be honored for all you’ve guided us to achieve in our lives. I love you, Dad, and can’t imagine my life without you. Celebrating your presence in my world is a gift, and I hope you’ll accept it always.” I leaned down and hugged him tight, and when I felt his arms return the hug, I experienced a joyful shiver run up and down my spine.

I returned to my seat next to Dad. He continued to hold my hand, rather than the arm of the chair as Pop rose from his seat. I heard Dad take a deep breath in anticipation of what Pop would say.

“Brian, against my better judgment, I supported Gus’ unwavering interest in celebrating your birthday. Yes, it’s your birthday, but for me, it means another year we’ve had to enjoy and love one another.

“You have brought me more heartache, joy and amazing life experiences than any one person could possibly imagine. No one challenges me like you do, and no one could ever love me like you do.”

Pop took Dad’s hand in his. “Not only are you the best homosexual you could possibly be, but you’re the best person you could possibly be. Looking around this room, I don’t think anyone would argue with that.” Pop brought Dad’s hand to his lips and tenderly kissed his palm, then held it momentarily against his cheek. It almost seemed too intimate too watch.

Then Pop lifted his previously untouched glass of wine and everyone joined him. “To Brian Kinney, for sharing his inspiration, encouragement, support and love with all of us, we pay tribute to the highest achiever we know.”

Everyone chimed in, “To Brian!”

After we all sipped our wine, Dad whispered in my ear. “Do I have to say anything?”

“Not really.” I smiled, understanding that it was a great burden for Dad to sit and listen to all that praise.

“Good.” Dad then looked around the room, and despite his hesitation, he stood up. “Thank you all for those words of acknowledgement. I’m a bit overwhelmed by the lengths you all went for my benefit and to help Sonny Boy find a way to celebrate my birthday -- a way that I could tolerate.”

Dad turned directly to me. “Gus, if celebrating each year that we share together is this important to you, I don’t think you’ll have to work so hard in the future.” Dad looked back at all the faces staring at him. “I can learn something from all of you as well. Thank you again.” He raised his glass to everyone, and we all took more sips.

“Hey, Sunshine, if this is supposed to be a dinner, where’s the food?” Dad smiled.

“It’s on its way.” Pop winked at Dad and kissed him when he rose to head for the kitchen.

Dinner was amazing. Pop and I ordered all of Dad’s favorites.

Uncle Emmett designed the cake for dessert. The shape of the cake spelled the word Prada. Written in icing on the top it read, In Honor of the Fabulous Brian Kinney.

As I left the table to help bring in the coffee, I looked back at Dad as he was talking animatedly with Pop and Uncle Michael. He briefly noted me staring at him. He smiled and tilted his head slightly and then turned back to the conversation.

Walking in the kitchen, I smirked. Jeff’s words rang out in my head, “Swoosh! And the kid scores big!”
 

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