Hi everyone,
Thanks for visiting my blog! If you’re new to my first Saturday Story, please enjoy parts 1-5 here.
Please be sure to join me next Saturday (June 2, 2018) for part 11. Have a great weekend!
Give your life the green light. It’s A Go!
Amber Green
Rags To Riches: Parts 6-10
Part 6:
To Riches:
It was like stepping into a fairytale. The hall was beautiful. Vast and elegant, the atmosphere was warm and regal; gold adorned the fixtures and many crystal chandeliers above. Though we were indoors, there seemed to be stars twinkling directly above the dance floor- where the newly united couple would enjoy their first dance. Gorgeous, grandiose flower arrangements, prominently featuring gardenias accented the space beautifully.
The entire celebration was a masterful blend of elegant with a touch of playful (the wedding cake is superhero-themed, much to my mother’s dismay, and a Grammy-winning rock band would keep the party going well into the night).
My family had always treasured weddings as an extremely important rite of passage, but previous celebrations had never been so grand. It seems that everyone any of us had ever met was expected to attend.
There was a time when I thought this day would never happen. I’m so happy that it finally has. He deserves to be happy.
From Rags:
Even though I had enjoyed a coffee after dinner, I drove to my favourite café as if on autopilot.
My sister, Priscilla and I sat in silence. We had just seen our younger brother- whom we long since judged as a womanizing dog (I know that that’s harsh, but it’s what my sister and I had always thought) in the thralls of passion… with a man.
Don’t get me wrong- society has come a long way. This is not a taboo topic for so many anymore. (Gay marriage has been legal across Canada since 2005.)
But that’s not the way it was in my parents’ day. I was worried about how they would react, if they ever found out.
Progressive (or, at the very least ‘with the times’) in many ways, my parents hadn’t perpetuated many of their parents’ outdated rationale and customs, but I wasn’t sure what my father’s reaction would have been had he been in the car with us.
We continued sitting in silence as I put the car in park. I looked at my older sister.
“So. So what? Chris is bi?” Priscilla asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s bisexual,” I answered.
“Well, he’d have to be. He has had girlfriends,” Priscilla reasoned. “Unless that was all an act?”
I ignored her question. “Why even put a label on it?”
“What do you mean?”
“It means that it doesn’t matter,” I explained to my sister. “Maybe Chris has always been interested in both men and women… maybe this is a one-time thing. We won’t know until we talk to him.”
“You wanna talk to him about this?” My sister asked, in bewilderment.
“You would rather, what? Pretend it didn’t happen?”
“Well, yeah. If he wanted us to know, he would’ve told us. If he didn’t see us driving away, he doesn’t know that we know.”
I pondered this for a moment. “I still think we should talk to him, but it doesn’t have to be tonight.”
“Yeah, it looks like he was having a good time. We wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Priscilla said, with a smile. I rolled my eyes at her, but couldn’t help but think that she might be correct. “I didn’t see his face- as it buried in our little brother’s neck- but it looked like he had nice hair,” she said, giggling.
I laughed, “And fantastic arms.”
“He must work at the garage,” my sister said. “If things don’t work out between you and Kevin, maybe Mr. Mystery-Arms can set you up with a good-looking mechanic… You know, one that likes ladies.”
“Things are going…” I hesitated, “things are going with Kevin.” I said, looking at my sister as she smirked. It’s true that it’s been a couple of days since Kevin and I spoke; I really should call him, I thought.
“No, but seriously-” Priscilla started, earnestly.
My phone rang. My brother’s face filled the screen.
“Oh my God, he saw us!” My sister exclaimed, staring at me, wide-eyed.
“No, he-he would’ve called immediately. He would’ve waited so long,” I reasoned, hurriedly.
“He’s trying to figure–figure– would you answer the phone?!” Priscilla said, shrilly. “And sound natural,” she hissed.
I picked up my phone, almost fumbling it as I answered the call, “Hey Chris! What’s up?” I asked, an octave too high, and far too loudly.
Priscilla gave me her older sister, I-can’t-trust-you-with-anything look, as I listened for my brother to answer.
………
Part 7:
To Riches:
Brunch was always an occasion.
Since we have unlimited funds now, the menu and our attire is vastly different than before, but we’re still very much the same family; we laugh and ensure that we make time to get together (albeit in far nicer homes).
Family meals have always been important in any Bruno household. When it comes to such priorities, our newfound wealth hasn’t changed us at all: the kids are loud; my brother is the first one to know about a family get together (my mom still enjoys cooking, so my brother ensures that he knows when she plans to make his favourites), but he’s always the last one there; my father has a couple too many; and, my mother will ask at least one of the three of us about more grandchildren by the time the meal is done.
A different time, a different setting, but the custom remains. Family is important. Money hasn’t shifted that priority at all.
……
From Rags:
I was sitting in the car with my sister, Priscilla, having just answered the phone to our brother, Chris. My heartbeat still hadn’t slowed from roadrunner-like speed by the time Chris returned my greeting.
“Hi,” Chris said.
From that sole syllable, I tried to determine whether or not he saw Priscilla and me drive away after we saw him in a moment of passion with an unknown man- whom we’d since nicknamed, ‘Mr. Mystery-Arms’- at the mechanic’s repair shop. “Uh- hey. Wh-what’s up?” I repeated, as Priscilla looked at me, quizzically. I shrugged my shoulders to let her know that I wasn’t sure- ‘hi’ was not enough to go on.
“Are you going to Mom and Dad’s tomorrow? They invited us to stay for brunch when I return the car in the morning.”
His tone sounded normal. I relaxed a little, and shook my head to let my sister know that he hadn’t seen us. Priscilla looked relieved.
“Uh- yeah. Priscilla, brunch tomorrow?” I asked my sister, while still on the line with Chris.
“Yeah, but we’ll have to leave early; the boys’ have a birthday party. Hi Chris!” Priscilla said.
“Hey, P,” Chris replied. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Bye,” I said, and ended the call.
I exhaled, and looked over at my sister.
“He didn’t see us,” Priscilla declared, confidently.
“It doesn’t sound like it, but that doesn’t mean that we didn’t see them. We have to talk to him.”
“I agree, but we don’t have to confront him right away.”
“I don’t think that’s the right word,” I frowned.
“Ask,” Priscilla corrected herself. “We don’t have to ask our younger brother if he’s gay just yet,” Priscilla said.
I rolled my eyes.
……
The next morning, I woke up blurry-eyed and still tired from the night before. I had had fun with some old high school friends (“I can’t believe how long it’s been since we graduated!” was the major theme of the evening), and saw my on-again boyfriend, Kevin, who thankfully was no longer talking about marriage (I don’t care that I’m in my thirties- I’m not ready), nor did he talk about breaking up. Stagnant may not be the correct thing to want from a relationship, but it is suiting me quite fine right now, thank you very much.
I slept as late I could. I quickly showered, dressed, accessorized with a flashy headband and my signature red lipstick, and headed out to my parents’ house.
……
Within 90 seconds of me greeting my parents, my sister, her husband, Luke, and their three sons arrived in their well-travelled van.
The three boys yelled, “Hi, Auntie Franca,” as they passed me, and catapulted themselves into my father’s outstretched arms.
“Hi boys,” I smiled, “Hi Luke. Hi P,” I greeted my brother-in-law and sister.
“Hi,” they responded, in turn. “Ma, I have to tell you something,” my sister said, touching my arm in greeting as she looked past me to our mother who was working in the kitchen.
I looked at my sister who met my gaze, as I wondered for the briefest of moments whether she was going to say something to our mother about our brother’s secret. It took one-hundredth of a second for my sister to telepathically tell me, ‘No, what are you crazy?’ but that was enough for our mother to infer that something was up. (The drawbacks of being a close family is that it’s too damn hard to keep secrets; body language alone can give you away.)
“What is it?” Our mother asked. “Are you pregnant?” She asked Priscilla excitedly. (I’m sure she intended to be quiet, but sound carries in my parents’ house. I was quite sure that I heard Luke chocking on some fruit my mom had put out as a pre-brunch snack in the next room.)
“What?! No!” Priscilla answered. She looked at me, “Already?” She asked, motioning to our mother, “I just got here,” Priscilla said, looking back at our mother. “And I’ve given you three grandchildren, Ma. It’s Frankie’s turn,” she grinned. “I was just going to tell you that we have to leave early today. The boys have a party.”
“That’s fine,” my mother replied, “And we love the boys, dear, but you could always try for a girl.” (I had a feeling that my sister had tried for a girl two times before, but she would not say so. Not in earshot of her children, at least.)
“I know,” Priscilla said, clearly placating our mother.
“Help me bring the food out, would you?” My mother asked us, motioning to the platters of food she had prepared.
My sister and I helped my mother bring the food to the table, “Where’s Chris?” I asked.
My father (from the adjoining family room with his three grandsons) said, “Don’t worry, he’ll be here. He’d never miss brunch.”
He was correct. My sister just got her youngest settled, when Chris came through the front door.
“Hi Mom,” I heard Chris say hello to my mother, who went to greet him. “I brought my friend, Dave; I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not!” My mother replied happily, as she greeted Dave.
I looked at my sister, who met my gaze. My brother invited friends to brunch from time to time, but ‘Dave’ is not a name either of us recognized.
My brother and his friend entered the dining room, “Hi everyone! This is Dave,” my brother said cheerfully.
“Hi,” I responded, smiling. My family introduced themselves, as I compared Dave’s build to Mr. Mystery-Arms.
My smile, still frozen on my face, relaxed as I took a sip of coffee, and exhaled. I looked at my sister; her eyes told me that she, too, believed that the whole family was meeting Mr. Mystery-Arms, face-to-face.
………
Part 8:
To Riches:
I looked up at the brand new sign- Engines & Fenders; it was one of hundreds in the country. I had been to a number of new openings, but it was always a thrill. In the coming years, we planned to grow the chain to thousands of locations worldwide. It had come a long way from that one little location on Main street.
From Rags:
I concentrated on looking normal; my face relaxed and interested (but not too interested) in the conversation my family and Chris’s friend, Dave were having during brunch at my parents’ house. (Dave may or may not be Chris’s secret make-out partner from the auto repair shop yesterday, dubbed ‘Mr. Mystery Arms’ by my sister, Priscilla and I).
“Thank you very much for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bruno,” Dave said politely, after introductions had been made.
“Not at all!” my mother replied. “I miss when Priscilla, Frankie and Chris were in school. We always had their friends over.”
“So, Dave what do you do?” my father asked.
“I’m a mechanic,” Dave answered. I have my own auto repair shop on Main Street.”
“Engines & Fenders?” my dad asked him, as I dug into my mom’s famous frittata.
“That’s the one,” Dave said with a smile.
“I like that place,” my dad said, approvingly.
“You’re very young to have your own business,” my mother said, admiringly.
“Well, my parents owned the business; they sold it to me when they retired last year. I learned about cars from them.”
“See, Chris, your friend may have had a leg up, but he’s clearly driven-” my mother started.
“Yeah, you should hang out with him more- maybe his good habits will rub off on you,” my father finished my mother’s thought. Whether it was simply bad timing, or my father’s statement caught me off guard, I started choking on my eggs.
Everyone stared at me, as I continued to choke. My mom and dad asked if I was okay, and looked ready to jump out of their chairs if I required the Heimlich maneuver. I motioned that I was fine, and took a sip of water. Clearly, I was failing miserably at ‘looking normal.’
Once I had recovered, and conversation resumed, I noticed Chris glance at me from the corner of my eye. It was brief, but I swear I saw him smirk.
Why would he smirk? I wondered. No one had just told a joke– unless… That little putz! I thought to myself. He did see us last night! And now, what? He’s punishing my sister and me for not telling him? What’s wrong with him?
We finished brunch, and my sister started gathering the kids after we helped our mother clear the table. “You can’t leave yet,” I whispered to my sister, after she thanked our mother for brunch.
“Why? The boys need to go,” Priscilla said- our brother and his possible-lover clearly not high on her list of priorities.
“They’re kids! Whose birthday party is it? One of the royals? Seriously- they can be five minutes late,” I hissed at my sister. “Boys, help grandma tidy up. Dad, I’m sure Dave would love to see your car-” I said. The boys set to work (getting in my mom’s way more than helping, I’m sure).
“That’s a good idea, Frankie,” my father replied, predictably. “Luke, come with us,” my father said.
“We’ll be right out,” I called to my father. Before Chris could follow them, I grabbed his arm and commandeered my siblings into my parents’ laundry room, closing the door behind us.
“Who goes into the laundry room to talk?” Chris asked.
“Shut up, Chris,” I said, immaturely. I locked eyes with my brother, and waited a beat. “You saw us,” I said, looking at my sister.
“You saw us,” my brother said. Immaturity was running rampant today; I thought it juvenile for my brother to bring ‘Mr. Mystery-Arms’ to brunch before we spoke, and I had just forced my adult siblings into the laundry room at our parents’ house; despite all of it, in that moment, Chris didn’t look like my little brother; he looked like a man who knew who he was. Unafraid. Unapologetic. Honest.
Without another word, Priscilla and I embraced our brother.
………
Part 9:
To Riches:
Boarding a private jet is exhilarating (especially the first time you do it). I’ll never forget it; I had just received the money that would change our lives forever, so I organized a family trip for a luxurious getaway and chartered a private jet. The day that I announced the windfall of riches to my family was the very day that we departed.
Our transportation via private jet was the first of many lavish experiences that my family members have since experienced (in fact, they’ve kind of grown accustomed to them). The kids had never been so thrilled! (Vacations had always excited them, but this was a whole other level of ‘cool’.) Sitting in those big, leather seats (that are more akin to recliners than regular airline seats), surrounded by good food and drinks, the family slowly processed my good news.
As you can imagine, my parents were so happy, and everyone was in a state of disbelief and shock.
It took some time, but my father and brother had the first real conversation they had had since my brother told my parents about his relationship with Dave. For those of us who do not understand why such a thing hinders relationships between old-school parents and their children, I can’t offer any clarification, but I can tell you that money did not fix the relationship between my brother and father; forcing them to travel together in a luxurious metal tube, flying roughly 41,000 feet above the Earth’s surface didn’t hurt, though.
……
From Rags:
Priscilla and I were hugging our brother in our parents’ laundry room. Chris had just confirmed that he saw us pull away from Dave’s auto repair shop yesterday- after Priscilla and I saw Chris and Dave making out.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Priscilla asked, moving away to wipe a couple of tears from her eyes.
“I considered it, but it took me awhile to come to terms with my own life,” Chris admitted.
“So, things with Dave are serious?” I asked quietly, but on a happy note.
Chris smiled, “Yeah,” he blushed. “He’s the only person I’ve ever brought home to Mom and Dad,” he said, lightheartedly. (I contemplated this for a moment, and realized that he was correct. Chris must really love Dave, I thought.)
“Do Dave’s parents know about you?” Priscilla asked.
“They know that Dave is gay, but not that we’re in a relationship,” Chris said. At this, Priscilla and I looked at each other with big-sister joy, then (our eyes the size of dinner plates) we looked (with great affection) at our little brother.
“You’re in a relationship,” I teased Chris, as I tousled his hair.
“He’s a nice guy,” Priscilla said, approvingly.
Chris rolled his eyes at our sibling antics, “I should have been more careful about making out with my boyfriend in public,” he said under his breath, half-joking, half-to-himself (though, I’m sure he used the term ‘boyfriend’ so that we could have another moment to coo over him). Chris took a deep breath and said, “Dave is going to leave, and then I’m going to tell Mom and Dad.”
My breath caught as I looked at Priscilla. Still smiling, we looked at our brother- wanting to support him, but nervous about what our parents’ might say upon hearing the news (I was anxious about our father’s reaction, specifically).
“O-okay,” Priscilla said. “Let me- let me ask Luke if he’ll take the boys to their party. We can sit with you.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Thanks, guys, but I need to do this alone,” my brother said.
I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah, this is the reason why you have siblings- so you don’t have to go through the hard things alone,” Priscilla said.
“Thanks, but that’s okay,” Chris said. We stood quietly for a second.
“Drinks later?” I suggested.
“Yes,” my siblings answered in unison, as we exited the laundry room.
………
Part 10:
To Riches:
Chandeliers hung from the ceiling of my parents’ wine cellar. The warm, mahogany wood- with rich, deep reddish-brown tones- added to the classic look of an already stunning space. Bottles of wine- housed in row upon row of wood racks from floor to ceiling- provided a liquid map of my parents’ travels throughout the years. Wine from various countries and regions- from many different eras- adorned the walls.
When I received the windfall of money, my family members added personalized touches to their lavish living spaces. My parents included their individual touches throughout the house (my father always loved cars, and my mother loves flowers, gardening and cooking), but the wine cellar had been a pet project they completed together. I’ll never know how many bottles they enjoyed as they planned what this space would look like; it certainly was a far cry from the lone, dusty wine rack they had when we were growing up- complete with three or four special bottles that- to this day- have never been opened.
Adjacent to the wine cellar is a tasting room and bar. When we’d all get together, the adults would sit in this room after dinner, as the kids played with the karaoke machine, toys and video games in the massive rec room down the hall.
Over the years, my mother commissioned artists to paint murals of landscapes my great-grandparents would have seen growing up in Italy. They’re beautiful, and my dad loved them. He would sit (with a glass of wine or a cocktail, depending on the time of day) in one of his leather recliners and marvel at the detail of the art.
My father loved this room.
I couldn’t believe he would never sit to marvel at the art, at this room- at his life- ever again.
……
From Rags:
“Chris, maybe you should have some water,” Priscilla suggested, kindly. The three of us had been drinking on a patio at our favourite pub for hours. Chris was imbibing at a rate much faster than my sister and me.
“Or a coffee?” I asked.
“No, no, no,” Chris slurred, as he responded. “Water is fine. I don’t really want to stay up much longer. I think I’m done with this day,” he finished, miserably.
Priscilla and I looked at our younger brother with sorrow. Chris had come out to our parents that afternoon, and told them that he is in a relationship with Dave (a friend whom he had invited to brunch with the family earlier in the day).
“At least Mom’s okay with your relationship,” Priscilla said, encouragingly.
“She cried, P,” Chris said, darkly.
“You said that she hugged you before you left, right?” Priscilla asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay, so Mom is fine,” Priscilla said, confidently.
“And Dad?” Chris asked, his voice breaking as his eyes welled with tears for the fourth time this evening.
“He’ll be fine. Both of you will be fine. He just needs some time to adjust,” I said, sounding more hopeful than I felt.
“What does it matter these days, anyways?” Priscilla interjected, a little louder than she would have three drinks ago. My brother looked at our big sister. “I mean, you and Dave can get married, have children… you can adopt… you can have one of mine,” Priscilla shrugged and smiled, as Chris and I chuckled.
“Thanks, P, but let’s ease up on the marriage and family talk, okay? You just met Dave today.”
“So, it’s not that you’re gay- you do have commitment issues,” I said triumphantly, in what was quickly becoming my drunken haze.
“Ahhh, yeah,” Priscilla pointed at me as she nodded in agreement, and motioned to our favourite server for the bill.
“No!” Chris retorted, then smiled. “I like Dave a lot, okay? It’s just- it’s good. He’s good. What’s the rush?”
“He is only 22,” I agreed, as our bill arrived.
“Yeah, yeah. Lucky bastard,” Priscilla said, with a smile.
“Should we get an Uber?” I asked.
“No, Dave is coming to pick me up; he’ll drop you guys off.”
“Thanks. That’s a good man,” Priscilla said, approvingly.
“Thanks,” I echoed, as I gave her cash for half of the bill.
“Tonight’s on us,” Priscilla told my brother. “It may have been a rough day, but it was a big step in the right direction.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you did the right thing. It was brave. Everything will work out,” I said, as I touched Chris’s arm. “Dad will be fine.”
…………
Thank you for reading! You can find parts 11-15 here.
Give your life the green light. It’s A Go!
Amber Green
*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
© 2018-2020 Amber Green
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Amber Green is a self-published Canadian author and freelance writer. Her short stories can be found here: www.amazon.com/author/ambergreen