Jonathan's Legacy Read online

He thought it would be difficult, but in the end, they were clothes. Yes, a shirt here or a t-shirt there would remind him of situations in which Jonathan had worn them, but those were all beautiful memories and they were in no way lessened if their physical reminders were gone. It was amazing for Marc how strongly some physical objects reminded him of memories from their past, and he decided to keep Jonathan’s favorite sweater as a memento.

  Josh was very helpful, taking care of boxing up the clothing while Marc cleaned out the left half of his and Jonathan’s bathroom cupboard. He picked up Jonathan’s favorite eau de toilette and smelled it. Oh my god, that’s the one he wore at our wedding. It tore through him with a violent force, and for a moment, Marc almost lost his footing, his knees feeling like Jell-O. He decided to keep it.

  That very moment, Josh walked in and saw him. “Wow, you have this? I love the smell of it. May I try it on?”

  Before Marc managed to formulate a protest, Josh had already taken the flask from his hand and spritzed a liberal amount of the delicate liquid on his cheeks. “Man, this is amazing. Would you mind if I kept this?”

  Marc shook his head, his neurons firing wildly with memories of Jonathan, the wedding, finding him on the beach that night after Parker’s animalistic scream, the aftermath, the funeral, this kid standing in front of him, waving the bottle of Jonathan’s favorite scent in ecstasy. What could he say? He couldn’t say no; he simply forced his tears to remain subsurface. He would not burden Josh with the connotations associated with the scent. He was too excited and happy. Instead, he would confide in Adam.

  What are we going to do? Where are we going to live? Marc had no doubt that Adam would get temporary custody of Josh. The Jacksons cast too long a shadow for social services to ignore, and Adam’s professional reputation was rock solid. With his background, and the last couple of months of work with the four kids, Marc felt hopeful that some of that might rub off positively on him, too.

  Another instant family. The thought was mind-boggling. Not only had he “inherited” two kids and several grandkids when he’d married Jonathan, now he’d actually have a real child—well, a teenager, but still, a child that he and Adam, Adam and I, might someday even adopt to make him their own. I who never thought I’d even find a man to love. But where are we going to live?

  The questions of the living arrangements were nagging at him. He knew the solution wasn’t too far away, but it still eluded him somehow. And what about my life? My work?

  Finally, it was Josh who brought him back into reality. “Marc, I’m done with the clothes. Where do you want to put them?”

  “Let’s put them in the attic for now. I’ll call a secondhand store later today, see if they’ll come and pick them up. If I’m not mistaken, there are also some boxes with Dan’s clothes up there.”

  “Who’s Dan?”

  “He was Jonathan’s first husband.”

  “Was he nice?”

  “Who? Dan? I never met him. But from what Jonathan told me, they were very happy. They were a couple for more than sixty years. It’s hard to imagine… Jonathan and I didn’t even get an entire year together.”

  Josh’s next comment surprised Marc. He didn’t think the kid to be so wise. “It’s not the time that’s important. It’s what you make of it. Were you happy?”

  “Very. We were very happy. Thanks, Josh.”

  Marc looked at the boy in front of him and saw something he hadn’t seen the night before, when the tough kid, the hustler, was standing in front of him in the alley in Boystown. Here was a boy with eyes brown like a deer’s, black hair and olive-brown skin, scraggy facial hair—he obviously hadn’t shaved in a while—but with an innocence that somehow contradicted everything he’d seen or had expected from him, for that matter. It piqued his curiosity.

  “Tell me Josh, how come you ended up on the streets? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

  “Oh, it’s not a big secret. My parents were really young when they got married. You know, traditionally arranged Indian marriage. They were both born in India, in Gujarat. My dad got a job as an IT engineer here in Chicago, and they moved. But Mom was miserable. She just couldn’t get things to work, and I don’t think she ever really loved my father. He certainly didn’t love her. But she came with money and provided him with the means to move us over here.

  “I was their only child. She died when I was ten, and my dad couldn’t handle being alone. He’d always treated Mom more like a maid than a wife. She cooked and cleaned, and she did his laundry, but that was it. Dad always expected food on the table when he got home, he wanted his shirts starched and ironed to a crisp, but he was also very traditional in the sense that he would only ever eat Indian food, and he only watched Indian shows on the vid-screen.

  “He expected Mom to wear traditional clothes and stay in the house. I guess she died of a broken heart. After her death, I could go days without a proper meal. Sometimes our neighbors would invite me, or kids at school, and then one day, my dad, uh, he…”

  “What Josh? What did he do?”

  “He said I was his property, that I was to serve him, that I wasn’t a proper boy anyway, and he…”

  Realizing what Josh was about to say, Marc put his hand on the boy’s mouth and stopped him. “Shhh, don’t say a word. I get it. That’s awful. No child should ever suffer anything like that…”

  “It’s okay,” Josh said in a muffled voice and removed Marc’s hand. “It’s just that I’ve never actually said the words ‘fucked me’ out loud. But it’s been more than four years. And in a way he was right. Back then, I didn’t know I was gay.”

  “But Josh, being gay doesn’t mean you are not a proper boy or that you have to subject yourself to sexual abuse by your parents, or anyone else. Let this be my first and foremost lesson to you: your body is yours and yours alone. You, and only you, decide who gets to touch you and be with you. Not money, not family relations. Does that make sense?”

  Josh nodded. “I know, but it’s easier said than done when you’re hungry or thirsty. Or if you’re cold and need a warm jacket.”

  Marc’s stomach was churning. How did one respond to that? “I get that, Josh. But from now on, let us adults figure out how to clothe you and feed you. When Adam gets back, I think he’ll have news about how we’ll proceed from here.”

  “But where would we live? Adam said he only has a studio.”

  “Yeah, that. I don’t know. But I’m sure we’ll figure it out, together, and you’re welcome to contribute with ideas.”

  “Well, I can earn money. Easy. I’m young and I’m popular with the old crowd.”

  “Josh!” Marc almost shouted. “Didn’t I make myself clear? No more hustling. Not now, not ever. When Adam and I say we want you to live with us, we mean as a member of our family, not the resident escort. You’re not even fifteen, for Christ’s sake! Besides, we can afford to pay the rent for a bigger place. We just haven’t had the need to.”

  Josh blushed. “Just trying to help.”

  Marc had to hug the kid, and he tousled his hair. “I know, I know. But there are other ways to help, like you do now, with the boxes. And you’re free to contribute with ideas, just none that involve selling yourself, okay?”

  “Why doesn’t Adam move here? This house is certainly big enough.”

  “Yeah…” Marc was distraught. “It’s complicated.”

  “Why? You’re all family, anyway. Why wouldn’t Cody and Parker let you stay here?”

  “Oh, I’m sure they would. Question is if it’s what we all want. Two couples, five kids, two families, all under one roof. I honestly don’t know. Would you want to live here?”

  “Are you nuts? This place is amazing. You go spend one night on the streets of Chicago and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven when you walk in here. This house is like paradise.”

  Marc looked around the attic where they were temporarily storing the boxes. This space alone was the size of his parents’ apartment in
Liege. The house would easily be a good home to all of them. Naturally, he would finally have to vacate the master bedroom and move to the east wing, where the boys were currently residing. That part of the house was already like a house in a house, with a separate entrance. It even had its own kitchen, not that Cody and Parker ever used it, but there it was.

  Marc didn’t know the exact story behind it; if Jonathan and Dan had that installed or if it had already been there when they bought the house. He shrugged and filed the thought to pick up later. He and Adam would have to talk. He wasn’t sure if Adam would be amenable to the idea of living here. Am I? He could see that living in a house like this would be thrilling to Josh. But to Adam? To me?

  “Okay, all done here. Thank you so much for your help, Josh. I’m glad I finally got this sorted.”

  “No worries. I’m hungry. Think we can get a snack?”

  “Sure, you know where the kitchen is.”

  ***

  They were still sitting in the kitchen, making small talk, when Adam returned from his visit with social services.

  “Hey, Hwan. How did it go?”

  “Good. If Josh wants to, he can stay with me. Since we’re not living together, social services tentatively appointed me as his guardian. They’ll want to talk to him, and we have to find a suitable living arrangement, but I think we should be fine.

  “About that.” Marc smiled. “Have you given any thought to where you want to move?”

  “Move?” Adam seemed puzzled.

  “Yeah, I mean we can’t very well move into your studio. Josh will need a room, and, well, your studio doesn’t have that.”

  “Right. Well, I can contact my real estate agent. See if she’s got any interesting listings.”

  Josh nudged Marc. “Ask him.”

  “Ask me what?”

  Marc wasn’t sure if it was such a great idea, but then again, it never hurt to ask. “Josh and I were going through Jonathan’s old stuff and then boxed the rest and carried it up to the attic.”

  “And?”

  “We talked about living together, and Josh wondered why we didn’t stay here, with Parker and Cody.” Marc was blushing, afraid that Adam would hate the idea.

  “I don’t understand. Just this morning you said you didn’t want Josh to stay here.”

  “That’s not what I said. I said we can’t impose Josh on the boys. That’s a huge difference.”

  Adam put both hands on his temples and massaged gently.

  “You okay?” Marc asked, worried.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, what do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Didn’t we just have a discussion about you leaving the house? Starting your own company?”

  “This has nothing to do with me starting my own company. I like living here. I like the boys. They’re family.”

  “But don’t you think they would oppose if I moved in here with you? You’re still in the master bedroom.”

  “Here’s our idea…” Marc began to fill Adam in on the loose plan that he and Josh had come up with. Adam listened quietly and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Marc was done, Adam nodded.

  “I, uh, I don’t have an issue with living here. I haven’t seen much of the east wing. The only rooms I’ve been in were the kids’ rooms in the west wing, the common areas here, and your room. But this isn’t just a decision for you and me. We need to ask the boys.”

  As if summoned, Parker walked into the kitchen, carrying grocery bags. “Ask us what?”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 13 - Jeff

  Several weeks had passed since the boys, Adam, and Marc had sat down and thrashed out the details of how Marc and Adam could live in the east wing. Since then, the house had been in a state of chaos, with Marc moving in with Adam, at the studio, temporarily. Josh was still at the big house, while the builders had taken over the master bedroom, redecorating it for Parker and Cody. When they had moved out of their rooms in the east wing, those rooms were prepared for Marc and Adam to take over. In just a few days, they would finally be able to move in, and their apartment—three bedrooms and their own kitchen and living room, yet still connected to the main wing of the house—would be ready.

  Today, Adam was visiting the house for one of his regular sessions with the kids. They had all adjusted well to their new living arrangements, and Adam got the distinct impression they were beginning to feel like a family. Susan had recently turned thirteen and officially entered teen life, and she and Kyle hung out a lot. Amy was opening up more and more, and so was Jeff. He, however, still had a bit of a dark cloud hanging over him and retreated into himself at times, which was odd for a child so young.

  From Jeff’s files, Adam surmised that he had been taken from his mother after child care had reported odd behavior in school, and they feared sexual abuse at the hands of his own mother, though nothing had ever been proven, and Jeff had never really said much. Jeff’s parents had separated shortly before his placement, and social services had not been able to track down his father.

  However, in the past few days, he’d begun to react oddly whenever Parker or Cody tried to touch him, be it to help him get dressed or to dry him after a bath. He wouldn’t even let them brush his hair. Adam was hoping to find out what was going on with him.

  Jeff sat on the large couch in the study, while Adam sat in one of the arm chairs. He sipped from a large cup of hot chocolate.

  “Thanks for coming here today. How was school?”

  Jeff shrugged but otherwise didn’t respond.

  “Don’t you like school?”

  Jeff shook his head and took another sip. The cup was big, and he had to hold it with both hands.

  “I was wondering if we could talk about your mom a little bit today.”

  Jeff shook his head but didn’t look up.

  “Why not?”

  Jeff looked up and defiantly, looking Adam directly in the eyes, he said, “Mommy’s bad. She hurt me.”

  “I see. Can you tell me what she did?”

  Jeff shook his head and lowered his gaze.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Jeff, but Parker and Cody are worried about you. We all are.”

  “Parker doesn’t hurt me. Neither does Cody.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Yet you won’t let them touch you. Does touching frighten you?”

  Jeff nodded.

  “Did your mother touch you?”

  Jeff nodded again, his gaze still lowered to the floor.

  “Can you show me where she touched you?”

  Jeff looked up at Adam and simply stared at him.

  “It’s okay, Jeff. You can trust me. Sometimes, it is better to talk about these things than to keep them to yourself. Obviously, you think about it every time someone gets close to you.”

  Jeff seemed to consider the situation. At seven, he was a clever boy. Adam didn’t know why, but for some reason, he seemed to have decided to take a leap of faith and trust him.

  Jeff got up from the couch and pointed to his crotch with his right hand.

  “Did your mommy touch you there?”

  Jeff nodded, dropping his gaze once again to the floor.

  “You don’t have to be ashamed, Jeff. Most mommies and daddies touch their kids there during a bath, to clean your wee-wee. Is that what your mommy did?”

  Jeff shook his head.

  “I see. Can you tell me what she did.”

  “Mouth.”

  Adam was puzzled. “Are you telling me your mother took your penis in her mouth?” Jeff nodded. Inside Adam, his stomach was churning with disgust, while his entire body ached to hug the poor boy. “Did she do something else?”

  “Make it grow.”

  It was not unusual for boys to have erections, even before they were born. It was a fully natural thing to happen, although there was no sexual connotation to it, whatsoever. Adam knew this, but for a parent to induce an erection on purpose was a different thing entirely.

  “Did she do anything else?�
� he asked gently.

  “She put fingers here,” Jeff said almost inaudibly while putting his hand on his bottom. Adam was upset, yet he had to keep his professional calm.

  “Are you afraid someone else might do the same to you?” Jeff nodded. “Did someone else hurt you like this?” Again, Jeff nodded. “Can you tell me who?”

  “Mommy’s boyfriends.”

  “This happened more than once?”

  Jeff nodded again.

  “Did your dad ever touch you?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Daddy left us. He didn’t like Mommy touching me.”

  “He knew?”

  Jeff nodded, tears appearing in the corner of his eyes, making Adam wonder why the man hadn’t reported this to social services. He would have to take another look at Jeff’s file.

  “Listen, Jeff. What your mother did is very wrong, and you’re right in not liking it. Okay? Parents help their children a lot with washing and bathing, but what your mommy and her boyfriends did is very wrong. You don’t have to worry about Parker and Cody, though. They will never touch you that way. Okay? Your mommy is very sick, and she needs help. But, most importantly, there is nothing wrong with you. You reacted like the smart kid you are.”

  Jeff looked up at Adam, his face a question mark. He studied Adam’s eyes, as if to ascertain if he could trust Adam’s words or not.

  “Are you going to tell Mommy?”

  “Tell her what, Jeff?”

  “She told me never to tell anyone. She would be very angry.”

  “Here’s the deal, Jeff. No, I’m not going to tell your mommy. But I have to tell the lady from social services and the police. What your mommy did to you is not just wrong, it’s against the law. She will be punished for what she’s done to you.”

  “But she’ll get angry with me.”

  “Do you want what happened to you to happen to other boys and girls?”

  Jeff shook his head.

  “You see, people like your mother, they will not stop. Now that she can no longer hurt you, she might try to hurt someone else. We have to help her stop. She needs help, too. Do you understand? I promise you, she’ll never, ever hurt you again.”