STC 14 Nothing had happened by the week before Thanksgiving and everyone relaxed just a bit, happy to have a break from the anxiety.  Another holiday at the school for all of them.  The Harlesses didn't return any messages and after Lynn's comment about him not being safe there, Joan thought Justin would be better off staying at St.  Catherine's. Nick's aunt didn't let Joan forget the disastrous summer vacation and refused to take him and "let him spoil our holiday".  Howie was a given. Lance was a problem.  She almost didn't call the Basses, terrified that they would remember their threat to come to the school and tell Lance that they no longer wanted him.  But at the last minute, she changed her mind.  Perhaps it was good news that they hadn't followed through and they would want to see him.  He had asked her several times if she had heard from his parents and the sadness in his eyes when she said no was heartbreaking.  So she took a deep breath and dialed. The icy tone when Diane recognized the name told Joan what she needed to know.  "Um, Mrs.  Bass, about Thanksgiving." "We do not want Lance home if that's why you're calling.  As a matter of fact..." Joan's heart dropped.  Please don't let her say it, not now, not at the holidays, not when he's so excited about the talent show.  "...we were going to have that talk with Lance before the holidays but thought it might be too upsetting.  Perhaps January." Joan couldn't answer.  She had so many thoughts and feelings swirling.  After a long pause, she forced out, "Yes.  So he won't see you before then?" "No.  Is that all?" Another sigh, "Yes, that's it."  She heard the click and hung up the phone.  She stared out the window and thought about the conversation.  It would be "too upsetting"?  Well, no shit.  Joan was grateful that they had postponed giving him the news but wondered what could drive people to even contemplate throwing their children away because ... Joan wasn't even sure Lance was gay. As if drawn by some cosmic connection, Lance knocked on the door and stuck his head inside.  "Got a minute?" "Sure.  What's up?" She waved to the sofa and moved to the other end. "Have you heard from my parents about Thanksgiving?" he asked.  He was biting his lip, a bad sign.  She nodded and hoped that her face didn't reveal her feelings He read her hesitation perfectly.  "They don't want me to come home, do they?" "No, baby, they don't."  He looked at her, his green eyes filled with tears, and she moved closer and stroked his cheek.  Even though he was thirteen, he leaned into the maternal touch and savored the love behind it. "Are they gonna tell me they don't want me like Justin's parents did to him?"he asked in a pained voice. He was so damned perceptive, Joan thought.  She didn't answer right away, hoping that she could come up with some response that wasn't an outright lie.  His eyes widened and he gasped, "Are they?" "What makes you think that?" She hated herself for avoiding the question but she had no answer that wouldn't hurt him. "It's just that they haven't called or written or let me come home in so long.  I miss home.  I miss my parents," he said, in a voice filled with longing. "Oh Lance, I know," she said, moving closer until she could rub his back gently.  He put his head on her shoulder and she could feel him shaking with silent pain.  Damn these people.  These children did nothing to deserve this and here they were, thrown away like so much garbage when they were so special.  He cried for awhile and she let him and when it was over, he sat up and she got a cloth to wipe his face, now red and puffy.  "Listen, sweetie, lie down here for awhile so no one bothers you." He nodded and stretched out and she covered him with a blanket.  She sat at her desk, studying him, thinking about what would happen to them all, the damaged children, when they grew up.  If only these boys could hold on to one another, maybe, just maybe, the love would be enough to keep them from splintering into broken people. She had been working for an hour while he slept, when she heard a light knock.  A curly head peeked in, smiling when he saw Lance. Justin tiptoed over to her desk and whispered, "Is Lance ok?" "Just tired, honey." "Can I stay till he wakes up?" Joan nodded and looked at her watch. "Better wake him, Jus, it's almost dinner time." The younger child scampered over to the sofa and got down close to Lance.  "Lance, wake up," he whispered softly.  Lance shifted onto his back but his eyes stayed closed.  Justin leaned over him and kissed the older boy on the lips.  With that, Lance's eyes flew open and he stared at Justin, who giggled in response. Joan's eyes widened.  Neither of them had spoken to her about being gay since the summer and she wondered where exactly their relationship stood.  They had both talked about loving the other but Justin was still so immature, she had assumed it was the platonic type.  Maybe not, she thought. Lance frowned, wondering himself exactly where their relationship stood.  He had kept his hands to himself literally, ignoring his parents' admonitions and relieving himself nightly, guilty but unable to stop.  It was that or touch Justin and he had sworn to himself he would wait for Justin to make the first move.  He thought the kiss might have been that but Justin was giggling and that didn't sound promising. Justin was blocking Joan so Lance couldn't see her expression but he was embarrassed that Justin had kissed him like that– here.  It wasn't how he wanted their first kiss to be.  He wanted it to be what?  If it meant what he wanted it to mean, then he was gay.  Or was it just Justin— Justin who was his whole world, who he would do anything for, who he wanted to be touched by. He wanted Justin to grow up faster so they could try things together, maybe, if Justin wanted to. And now he was confused because Justin kissed him but then he laughed and what the hell did that mean? Gay.  The terrible word that his parents used as a curse.  The sin that their pastor was always warning him about.  Why didn't it feel bad when he thought about touching Justin— why did it feel sweet and wonderful?  And if it felt sweet and wonderful, why did his stomach insist on doing flips?  He looked at Justin who was pouting now and Lance realized that his expression must have reflected his fears.  So he forced a smile and Justin returned it uncertainly. Lance sat up and stared at Justin.  The younger boy, still on his knees, grew uncomfortable and wondered if he had done something terrible.  Lance had looked upset when Justin had kissed him and to tell the truth, Justin wasn't sure why he had done it.  It seemed like a good idea at the time but now he felt stupid and guilty, knowing what his momma and Paul would say to him.  He stood up and muttered, "I'm sorry, Lance.  Please.  I'm sorry." "I... I'm not ...mad..Jus.  Only how come?" "I don't know," Justin said and burst into tears. Joan looked at her watch and decided enough was enough, "Boys, time for dinner.  Better get moving." They nodded and left, waving goodbye, too distracted to hug her. Dinner was uncomfortable and both Nick and Howie picked up on the tension.  "Hey, what's up?" Nick asked. "Nothing, " Lance said.  Justin gave him a sidelong glance, trying to figure out if Lance really thought it was nothing.  He couldn't tell and he wanted the dinner to end so they could go back to their room and talk.  Whenever Lance was upset, Justin worried that it meant bad things for him. Nick gave Howie a look but neither pursued it any further.  Nick figured this was not the time to ask if Lance was going home for the holiday.  He knew that he, Justin, and Howie were staying and he actually hoped Lance would, too.  But he knew Lance would be disappointed so he didn't bring it up.  Instead they talked about school and their sports and the talent show and slowly Lance joined in and relaxed. Lance seemed fine until the door closed behind them and then he turned to Justin and asked, "Why did you kiss me?" "I don't know.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  Please don't be mad at me, Lance." He couldn't look at his friend, afraid that he would see anger or hate in his green eyes.  See, his momma was right. He shouldn't have done that. That wasn't the answer Lance wanted.  He bit his lip and thought about questioning Justin further, but one look told him that the child was terrified that he had made some horrible mistake. So instead Lance shrugged and sat down to do his homework. Justin was left standing there, unsure of what to do or say to fix things with Lance.  So when Lance turned his back on him, Justin wanted to run to him and fall on his knees, begging Lance to forget about the kiss.  He chewed his lip and hesitated.  That would only make it worse.  Maybe if he did his homework and got ready for bed, he could make it okay before they went to sleep, later. Lance stiffened when he heard the sniffles behind him and refused to look, knowing he would see Justin trying hard not to cry.  Lance felt awful.  He didn't want to hurt Justin, ever.  Later, stupid, just wait till later. Somehow the two finished their assignments and got ready for bed in silence.  Justin kept sneaking looks at Lance trying to read the other boy's mood and it seemed all bad.  See, Justin, he thought, that's why you never had any friends.  You are just so stupid. Lance crawled into bed, Justin standing in the middle, afraid to do anything else to upset the one person he loved more than anyone else in the world.  So Justin slipped into his own bed and sucked his thumb until he fell asleep. It was still dark when Justin woke up alone.  He needed to be with Lance so he carefully moved into the empty space behind Lance and snuggled into the other boy.  Lance had been awake, thinking about doing the same thing when he felt Justin spoon in. Lance rolled onto his back. Justin tucked his cheek onto Lance's shoulder, "Is this OK?" Lance didn't answer.  He was thinking about the kiss.  He felt his body start to respond to Justin's closeness, to his smell, to his sweet breath on Lance's neck.  The older boy tensed and Justin felt it and sighed.  "I'm sorry, Lance," he said as he started to leave. "No, don't leave," Lance whispered.  His feelings and thoughts were tangled into a huge jumble. He felt guilty and excited and horny and ashamed and pulling them apart now was just too much work.  He turned toward Justin and stroked the younger child's cheek.  Justin responded like a kitten, nearly purring, content to let Lance do whatever he wanted, happy that Lance still loved him.  Lance tilted Justin's chin up and hesitated for just a second before kissing Justin's lips.  They were so soft and warm and sugary, pliant under the gentle pressure.  And Justin returned the kiss.  When it was over, they pulled back, studying one another in the dim shadows. Lance sighed, "I'm sorry, Justin." Justin frowned in the dark. "Why are you sorry?" "What we did is wrong.  I know it but I ...it felt like the right thing...oh shit, I'm sorry." Justin was silent and then he leaned over and kissed Lance again, not caring at that moment whether it was right or wrong. Tears slipped down Lance's cheeks.  He loved Justin so much and he had so many feelings for this boy, but Justin was still a baby and if they kept going, Lance wasn't sure he had that much self control. "Jus, let's just go to sleep, okay?" Lance sighed.  Justin was confused.  Hadn't Lance started this tonight?  But as always, Justin followed Lance's lead, knowing that Lance knew best.  They found their usual positions— Justin's curls pressed against Lance's back and his arms around Lance, Lance pulling him in tight. Neither boy mentioned what had happened again and they threw themselves into the work they needed to do before the holiday.  Nick and Howie noticed the strain but were too caught up in their own activities to worry too much about it. The four were excited.  Somehow Joan had gotten permission to take them for the whole holiday and they were vibrating with anticipation.  Wednesday came and they were waiting in Nick and Howie's room for Joan to be finished. "Is Mike gonna be there?" Nick asked.  He hadn't forgotten the few times he had met the older boy and he hoped they would get to hang out again. "Probably.  It's his house, his mom," Howie answered logically.  "Ellen, too, I bet." Justin sighed, "I still wish she could be our mom, that we could live there." Lance frowned, "Yeah, but I still want to go home and live with my parents.  I love them and I miss them." The other three boys stared at him, hearing the sadness in his voice.  Justin and Howie pretty much were orphans and had projected their own longing for loving parents onto Joan.  Nick still held out hope that someday his mom would choose him over drugs but in the meantime, he let Howie love him. "Let's not be sad, guys," Justin offered, "Let's just have a good time."  He sat next to Lance and put his arm around him, a rare reversal of roles.  And Lance took the opportunity and laid his head on Justin's shoulder. They hadn't touched much since that night and this felt good, almost back to where they had been before.  Nick and Howie nodded, knowing it would be a good weekend now. The knock startled them, but Joan hadn't even gotten in the door before they were heading out, bags in hand.  She laughed, "Guess you're ready, eh?" and trailed them to the car. After they were settled upstairs at Joan's house, they came down searching for her children.  Ellen was at Tom's and Mike hadn't gotten home yet from practice so they stood at the door scanning the street anxiously until Joan said they could go downstairs and play the games by themselves. As she prepared dinner, tears of gratitude fell, for her own children and for being able to give these boys a respite from the harsh realities at St.  Catherine's.  She heard their shouts and giggles and hurled insults and savored their joy. Mike found her with tears streaming and laughed, "Aw, Mom, you are such a mush." Then he hugged her tightly and exchanged heartfelt "I love yous." He grabbed a granola bar and cocked his head toward the "cave".  "Guess they're having fun.  I'm afraid I'll just have to go down there and kick some serious butt." "Dinner in 20 minutes.  No joke," Joan warned.  It was more like thirty by the time she had called them several times but she didn't really care.  They were all happy and that was what was important. Ellen flew in at the last minute with apologies for running late and helped get the food out. The five males ate quickly, anxious to return to their games.  They wiggled anxiously as the meal dragged on longer than they wanted and finally Mike took the lead, "Can we be excused?" Joan nodded, happy to get some peace.  Mike stood and the other boys followed his lead.  The four gathered their dishes and cleaned up their places, preparing to put them in the dishwasher.  Mike didn't clear his spot and they stared at him, waiting. Joan burst out laughing, startling the younger boys, "Well, Mike, maybe you could learn something at St. Catherine's." He blushed and stuck out his tongue at his mother but he did pick up his plate, silver, and glass.  Ellen laughed and was rewarded with another tongue stuck out. She heard him in the kitchen, a grin in his voice, as he said, "Great.  Show me up to my own mother." The mutters were garbled but she hoped they knew he was kidding. "You always look so peaceful when they're here," Ellen said. "I am," Joan replied, "I know they're safe here and happy and they deserve that even though they rarely get it." "They're lucky they have you," her daughter said and smiled when it was her mother's turn to blush. It was a struggle getting them to bed, so Joan finally gave up and left them with Mike.  In the morning though, she found them where they belonged, clothes folded neatly, sleeping contentedly in pairs. She wondered how long they would have to be out of St.  Catherine's to lose those habits. Thanksgiving Day was fun.  They helped a little with the chores and then dragged Mike out of bed to continue their marathon sessions. She warned them all that dinner was not going to be rushed and that they had plenty of time for the games over the next few days.  So everyone relaxed and Ellen and Mike told more of their growing up stories and she only felt sad seeing the wistful looks on the boys' faces. The holiday flew and they acted like a family.  One at a time during the next two days, each boy found Joan and told her how much they loved being here, being with Mike and Ellen, having people who loved them.  Nick was the sweetest.  He found her in the laundry room and asked if he could talk to her.  She nodded, concerned that there might be friction among the boys, even though she hadn't seen any. "I love you, Joan.  You make me feel like I'm not stupid or ungrateful or that my mom doesn't love me.  And you never hated me even when I was being mean to Justin." He hugged her tightly and tears came to her eyes when she thought that at eleven, he remembered every horrible word his aunt had said to him.  "Thank you for letting us come home with you." "You're welcome, Nick.  You're a good boy and you deserve all the love that you get." He ran off then, wiping his own tears and she was glad to be able to be alone for a few minutes, to feel the intensity of the love she had for those four boys. Saturday was the talent show and AJ arrived to pick them all up. Justin and Lance were all nerves, palms sweating, bundles of twitches.  AJ laughed, "Listen, boys, you guys are great.  Just get up and do your best.  That's all anyone can expect from a first time." The two nodded and went back to rehearsing every note in their heads.  Nick and Howie were giggling, relieved that they weren't going to have to get up on the stage. AJ took Lance and Justin backstage to wait while Joan found seats for the three of them.  After she had stopped them from shoving each other four times, she looked at them sternly, "Stop.  Or else." And they did this time because they recognized St.  Catherine's in her tone.  So they tried to keep still with little success, twisting in their seats, looking for distraction. Howie spotted him first, "There's Mike." He jumped up and waved his hands till Mike saw them and came over.  Joan was curious and it showed in her expression. "Think I'd miss the premiere of two of my guys?" Howie and Nick heard "my guys" and were thrilled.  He was the older brother, the idol, and he said "my guys" about them.  They couldn't wait to tell Justin and Lance.  Joan smiled at him, so proud of her younger child.  And then just before the start, she grinned as she saw Ellen and Tom slip into two empty seats. The talent ranged from awful to almost professional and for their first time, the boys were wonderful.  They didn't win a prize but they basked in the sound of applause and Justin was at least inoculated that day with the stage bug.  Lance already had it, judging from the shine in his eyes when they came off stage.  So they all went for ice cream and everyone congratulated them and they felt as special as they had for a very long time. The end of the holiday came too quickly and Justin was the one to voice what they were all thinking, "If we lived here, we could all be a family and then we could be happy." Howie was the one to inject reality, "Yeah, but we don't." continue menu