The Neallys Ch. 04: Suzanne Cont'd

"Suzanne Marie"—it been years since she used my middle name—"of course I was hurt when I first spoke to Kerry's mom and at first I thought she was intending to hurt me, to gloat over having won you and taken you from me." She brushed away my attempt to respond.

"I thought that. And I thought that after I met the woman a few days ago. But, Suzanne, I then did something I too rarely have done in recent years. I talked to God and understood. That's when I reached out again to Kerry's mother, Eileen, and told her what happened to me and only then would she let me meet Kerry and only when I convinced Kerry that I could be...that I am fully committed to you did she let me see you.

"The funny thing is that it has not been that hard to do, this whole loving-you-for-who-you-are thing. It is not loving-you-despite-who-you-are. I now see that that's not love at all."

She paused as we both began to feel the warmth of the sun's rays, oblivious to the noises around us, and then looked out over the scene, at the people lazing and playing, talking and laughing and then, remarkably, just let herself lie down too, staring up at the brilliant blue sky. I lay down next to her.

"I am your mother. I've always been your mother, and I always will be. If you'll let me. Please let me be your mother again. Or perhaps for the first time. Can we do that Suzanne? Can you do it?"

And I believed her so I said, "I'd like that." I knew her well enough to know that she would not have told me what she had without believing it, to her soul. I believed her.

I looked at my watch. It was a bit after three. Without getting up, I speed-dialed Kerry.

"I am lying on my back in the Sheep Meadow next to my Mother. When can you get here?"

I told her we were on the northwestern side, and that we wouldn't be hard to find "since my Mother is wearing one of my scarlet Stanford shirts. Really. I couldn't believe it. It's a little tight on her"—my Mother is not as light on top as I am—"but it looks good...Yeah, shorts too. Who knew she had great legs?"

For the next twenty minutes or so, we lay next to one another, not caring about the sun frying our faces, although she did have her Aussie hat and sunglasses on. There was gossip I had to tell her, the drive east with Annie and the drives Annie and I took on weekends, my adventures at school and then at my jobs, all manner of little things I had done that I had not been able to share with her that now bubbled from me.

"Get a room!" It was Kerry. She jumped on me. She literally threw herself down on top of me and gave me a (chaste) kiss before rolling off to the side where my Mother was not. Far from being repulsed by Kerry's PDA, my Mother was smiling. Which was very unusual.

I got up and left them alone to make two phone calls. Aunt Mary answered on the fourth ring, sounding more panicked than I had ever heard her. Of course, she was getting married in less than twenty-four hours so panicking should not have been a surprise. I summarized what happened between me and my Mother. I told her that time would tell, but I felt good, really good about my Mother, and she said she was happy for me and looked forward to seeing us tomorrow, and when she said "you" she said she meant my Mother as well. And I had much the same conversation with Mom, who said she felt the weight of the world leaving her shoulders on the news, and I could almost feel the reduced tension over the phone.

Rejoining the others, they got up, we dusted ourselves off, and the three of us walked south, towards Grand Central where Kerry and I would be getting our train home. The crowds made walking difficult on Fifth Avenue. But we were in no hurry and did some window shopping along the way. As we reached 51st Street, my Mother asked if we would go into St. Pat's with her, and we followed her. I'd been there once or twice and am still amazed at how bright and welcoming it is. Even to an agnostic like me.

My Mother, who I could see was a bit uncomfortable given the informality of what she wore, stopped us in an aisle. "You girls go on home. I have some things to do here. I'll see you tomorrow." I had told her that I spoke to Aunt Mary and that she was looking forward—really—to seeing her. Kerry and I each gave my Mother a hug and a kiss and left her as she genuflected before sitting quietly in a pew not far from the altar.

As we continued to Grand Central, Kerry and I were both quiet, talking a bit about whether everyone was going to be ready for Mary's and Betty's Wedding.

The First Wedding: Saturday, 11:00 am

I heard Tom's car enter his driveway as I helped Mary prepare for her wedding. I was her Maid-of-Honor. I looked out and saw my Mother get out of the car with Tom and walk towards the house. I dashed away from Mary, saying my Mother had arrived and that I'd be right back and rushed down the stairs to greet her. Kerry, though, who had been helping Betty get ready, beat me to it. And when Tom opened the door and waited for my Mother in a dress she must have bought after we left her, to enter the house first, I saw Kerry rush to her and hug her and I followed.

My Mother was treated as an honored guest at the wedding, although there was an undeniable tension in the air. But we made it through and enjoyed the wedding of Mary Elizabeth Nelson to Betty Anne Elliot.

Parties to the First Party

It was a month later. The hug nearly crushed me. I had taken the subway up to 72nd and was in Carol's apartment just off Broadway and Carol was hugging the breath out of me.

Carol is Kerry's boss and was my boss when I was a paralegal at Sullivan & Wilson. I came for a cocktail party the firm was holding in Carol's apartment for the firm's three Summer associates. Kerry was one of the three.

"I'm so happy for both of you," Carol, slightly taller than me, was whispering in my ear. I had not seen her since I left the firm for Trallis. I liked the firm, and especially its people, and was instrumental in getting Kerry her Summer associate gig, and their liking her was mutual. Kerry planned on working at the firm after she graduated and took the bar exam. She was a Summer associate at a Big Law firm after the first year and that was enough to convince her she wanted a future with a medium-sized firm with partners like Carol and Tom Sullivan, who were instrumental in my getting my job at Trallis.

We were interrupted by Carol's wife, Rachel, who said she too was thrilled to see me. I updated them on what I was doing at Trallis, a major Sullivan & Wilson client, and about my Aunt's wedding. I lowered my voice a smidge when they asked about our wedding and I said, "between us, we keep hemming and hawing." I noticed Rachel rolling her eyes as she pointed her head toward her wife, with a "tell me about it" which garnered a slap from said wife.

Just then, I looked over Carol's shoulder and I caught my first glimpse of Kerry. She'd not noticed my coming in and seemed deep in conversation with Jordan Miller, an associate for whom I had done some work as a paralegal. He must be a third- or fourth-year associate by now. And as I recalled he tried to hit on me when I worked at the firm.

The two were a bit outside the main circle of people, maybe twenty-five in total, at the party and the two were a bit inside what was an appropriate circle for two professionals. My attention to what Carol was saying flagged and Rachel noticed, turning to see what my eyes were burning a hole in and then Carol turned to see what we were looking at. The conversation stopped, and they both turned back to me.

Rachel asked, "can I show you the apartment?" and I half-heartedly followed. It was a nice place, a four-bedroom in a pre-War building—someone was doing well for herself—and a large living room that looked down across the small park and subway kiosk created where Broadway crosses Amsterdam and then to the south towards Columbus Circle.

Nice modernized kitchen, abuzz with a caterer's activity for the party, a den in which a computer station was set up and with a love seat along one wall, and three bedrooms, one shared by the couple's two kids—twins at an uncle's for the evening—one for guests, and the third for Carol and Rachel. It was into this room that Rachel ended the tour.

Rachel was not a lawyer, and she and I were two of the few non-lawyers at the event. She sat me down on the bed and sat next to me.

"If you can get out of your engagement to Kerry, do it. Never marry a lawyer. You end up having to go to parties like this."

"A little late for that. You do know I did finish one year in law school."

"I heard. You leaving just confirms my opinion that you are the smart half of the pair-of-you."

Rachel diverted my attention from my seeing Kerry and Jordan until Kerry came in and Rachel quickly excused herself. Kerry leaned over to kiss me but I turned my head in time so that she only got my cheek.

"It was nothing," she said. "Really." Carol, she said, had gone up to her and Jordan and asked to have a word with her. She went with Carol into the kitchen where amid the chaos Carol was blunt: "What are you doing?" To Kerry's asking what Carol was talking about: "I'm talking about how close, how inappropriately close you and Jordan were to one another. That's what I'm talking about. You freaked Suzanne out."

According to Kerry, she had no idea what Carol was going on about. She and Jordan were discussing and disagreeing about a brief they were both working on. "That's it."

When Carol told Kerry that Jordan had tried to hit on me when I was at the firm, Kerry said she did not know that and, after the penny dropped, said, "Fuck." Learning from Carol that I was probably in the master bedroom, she rushed to me, now saying, "You think I have doubts about you? About us? About who I am?"

"I know what I saw."

My all-consuming thought: We are over. I had been wrong to push myself on Kerry, desperately wanting her to be what I now realized she wasn't.

"I'm sorry Kerry. It's not your fault. I never should have done what I did to you... I just wanted you so much, I loved you so much, that I tried to make you into something you weren't. Aren't. Please don't hate me for taking advantage of you... Please say you'll at least be a friend. Please. I shouldn't have tried to 'convert' you. I understand now."

"Suze, you really are deaf, dumb, and blind sometimes." She gave her love a shake. "First, you didn't 'convert' me. I found you. I've not had a moment of doubt since I visited you in your apartment about who I am and who I want to be with. Second, tonight you didn't see anything. Until Carol mentioned it, I didn't realize how touchy-feely he is. I don't think it's intentional, that he's harassing or anything, I just think that he's one of those people who when they get excited about something naturally lean into the person they're talking to. I mean that. He is oblivious to it."

"So why did it matter that Carol told you about his moves on me—I don't know how she found out about that by the way—that you came running?"

"Because I was afraid you'd get the wrong idea. You're the best, baby. I don't care about the rest."

"Did you just say that?" I had to grin.

"Well, you have told me I have a silver tongue."

"Eww" and I grabbed a pillow and hit her with it. "Promise me that you don't have doubts about 'us,' about you being with another woman."

"Suze, baby, no doubts about any of this. No doubts about you leaving school and getting a job, moving in together, getting engaged. No doubts. And no doubts about setting a date."

"I thought we were waiting until Mom and Tom got married."

"You know how clueless the two of them can be."

"Mary and Betty got married on the first Saturday of Summer. What do you say we do it on the first Saturday of Fall," and pulling out my calendar I announced, "September 22, which happens to be the first day of Fall."

Having my head spin, like, 900 degrees in the last three minutes, I was a bit of a wreck, until Kerry poked me and I saw that we had disturbed the bed, and we were trying to smooth it out when we heard a light tapping on the door. "Come in," and Carol entered and surveying her no-longer-made bed said, "Sorry we don't have a lock on the door, but I can call AAA Locksmith for an emergency visit if you want."

When Kerry and I stopped blushing, and I'd brushed the tears from my face, Carol closed the door and told us both to sit. We sat. She stood.

"Kids. You are such babes in the woods. I trust you talked about the 'mini-crisis' you believe you just had. Listen. You've probably heard this a million times but relationships are all about your hearts. I spoke to Jordan, and he's apoplectic. You should both know that he can get enthusiastic about things and he does stuff he probably shouldn't. I nearly had to talk him off the ledge when he realized how you, Suzanne, might have viewed what was happening between him and Kerry. I didn't ask him to, but I'm sure he's out there waiting to apologize to both of you.

"I've asked him to be more aware of how other people might view things that he does, and I think he gets it now. A learning experience for him.

"And let's hope one for the two of you as well. Now can we please get you out mingling again?"

And I looked at Kerry and she at me and to her "should we?" I said, "go ahead," and that's how Carol became the first person to know the date.

And with that our first crisis passed. Jordan rushed to us when we got back into the living room, tripping over his apologies. He is a sweet guy and he is a bit clueless about some things even though as a lawyer he was smart as a whip. And I realized that when he tried to "hit on" me it was nothing but an awkward attempt to see if I might-at-some-time-in-the-future-be-interested-in-going-to-lunch-or-maybe-just-coffee-with-him.

I could now enjoy myself at the party. There were several spouses and significant others who were not lawyers and some of the lawyers in the room were not boring when they spoke about other aspects of their lives.

Getting Chilled

I took more than my fair share of finger-food and after another hour or so Kerry and I were on the subway heading up to the train station, and we sat quietly once on board.

"Sweetie," Kerry said with my head on her shoulder, "I've suffered from loving you for nearly two years and that's not going to change. You know that don't you?"

"I do but sometimes—"

"And you know how happy you make me and how lucky I am that you love me, don't you."

"I'm the lucky one."

"No sweetie. You're the hot one. I'm the lucky one."

"Well, you are pretty smart so you must be right."

"It's good to know you're at least smart enough to understand that," she said, which drew a light slap on her leg from my free hand.

A bit later, I asked Kerry about a photo in Carol and Rachel's bedroom. It was of a striking Asian woman in a Hopkins shirt, taken in what I recognized as Sausalito. I recalled a more-formal picture of her on a bookshelf in Carol's office.

"That is Carol's first wife."

I did not know Carol had been married before Rachel.

"It is really sad. She got very sick and Carol took a leave of absence to care for her but in the end, she didn't make it."

"Wow. No one mentioned it when I was there."

"I think it's still sensitive and people leave it to Carol to talk about. She only told me a few weeks ago when I asked about that picture in her office."

"So Rachel is the kids' stepmom."

"Oh my god, don't get Carol going. She told me that Rachel fell in love with the twins—they've visited a couple of times and, let me tell you, she takes no guff from those kids who are pretty polite to begin with—ages before she fell in love with her and that she only agreed to marry so she could get custody. It took a while for Carol to be so easy about saying things like that."

What Kerry said sent a chill through me. About a minute after she stopped speaking and as we were just leaving the Bronx, I lowered my voice and whispered, "I can't lose you again Kerry, I can't have you taken away from me" and the prospect of such a thing rifled through me and Kerry said, "that won't happen if I have anything to do with it, my love."

It took me a little longer to fall asleep and I held my love a little tighter than usual that night, with the horrible, unthinkable thought haunting me. It was days before the concerns, which I knew were unreasonable as a practical matter, dissipated sufficiently for me to put them out of my daily consciousness.

Spreading the News

When we got to the house I called my Aunt and told her the news and the date and Kerry called Mom and told her the news and the date.

Parties to the Second Party

Kerry was staying late at school for a project so I figured it was a good chance to do a speed workout with the AC. We were doing hill repeats at the northern end of the Park. We gab-gab-gabbed until the repeat began, during which the only noise that any of us made was heavy breathing, which was followed by gab-gab-gab as we jogged down the hill before doing the whole thing again. Eight times.

When done, we headed over to a nearby bar where we could get a large table and eat, with no one caring how stinky we all were. When we arrived, I went to the bathroom to exchange some of my sweatier stuff for a clean T-shirt and shorts that I had in my backpack. A bit of a towel bath and I headed to where I heard the girls, in the back. And there, sitting amid the gang, was Kerry.

They all loved her. She came to most of my races and joined us for our warm-downs. When we had weekend long runs on trails to the north, she'd go for a walk and meet us afterward. And there she was for our very own hen party, wearing a stupid tiara with a veil and I saw, too late, Patsy moving next to me and putting an identical one on my head. After a half-hour, though, we had to dash the subway so we could get the train home.

An Unexpected Visitor

After speaking to my Mother and Kerry, I sent a wedding invitation to my father. I did not think that he would be disruptive and wanted to give him a chance, however unlikely to be taken, to attend his daughter's wedding.

On September 7, a Friday morning just over two weeks before the wedding, I got a call from Greg at Trallis's front desk that there was someone to see me. I suspected who it was. I said I would be right there. My Mother and I and Kerry and I had discussed what I would do if he tried to contact me, even if he just showed up, and we agreed that the same line drawn for my Mother's involvement with me would be drawn for him.

He stood at the front in one of his nice blue suits, white shirt (with French cuffs and gold cuff-links), red tie, and shiny black Oxford shoes. He stood like he just addressed the U.N. General Assembly and I would say that he had done so to impress me but this was the way he always dressed when in business- or Church-mode.

"Hello, father."

"Hello, Suzanne. I was in New York for a meeting and I thought I would drop by."

"We can go down to the park to talk," I said, as I turned to Greg to say I was taking an early lunch and had my phone. We walked silently to Madison Square Park and found an empty bench.

"I've come to take you home," he began. He had illusions. I squashed them.

"Father, I am home. This has been my home for over two years now."

"Suzanne, please listen—"

"No, father, there is only one thing I need to hear from you. This is binary. It's the same choice I made Mother make. You need to tell me that you accept me fully and whole-heartedly for who I am, not who you think I am or who you would like me to be. For who I am. I am gay. I love a woman. And I am going to marry that woman.