Page 86 of The Holy Grail

Snickerdoodles make everything better

Not surprisingly, she picked up after only two rings. “Good morning—” she broke off abruptly as she got her first good look at him. “Oh, my God, what happened to your face? Were you in a fight?”

“It wasn’t that much of a fight, to be honest,” he replied dryly.

“Is this where you tell me I should ‘see the other guy’?”

He gave a soft snort. “The ‘other guy’ is Evan, and I’m sure he doesn’t look nearly as bad as I do.”

“You got in a fight with Evan?”

“Sort of, but like I said, it wasn’t much of one.”

“He seemed so … sweet when I met him.”

“He is sweet, but he also has a hell of a right hook, apparently. Me, not so much.”

“What happened?”

That was a loaded question, if ever there was one. “That’s why I’m calling—not to talk about the fight, but to talk about Dad.”

“What about him?” Her gaze sharpened. “Oh, did you tell him about Jules and Evan? ”

“No, but I saw him last night at a restaurant, when he came in to meet some colleagues from the firm and, uh …” Malcom cleared his throat, finding the words extremely hard to get out. “It didn’t go well.”

“What does that mean?”

He told her about the ugly scene with his father, sharing everything that had been said, and what had happened in the parking lot with Evan afterward.

When he was finished, she looked both angry and oddly resigned.

“I had planned on telling him everything very soon, but … I just hadn’t gotten to it. ”

“I’m so very sorry.” Beverly bent her head and wiped at her eyes. “About everything, but especially about the way your father treated you last night. It’s unforgivable.” She sniffed and cleared her throat. “So, now what?”

“Well, I won’t be making the decision which will make him happy, that’s for goddamn sure.

It’s ludicrous for him to think I would, but maybe he’s thinking I will, to avoid his displeasure?

” He tilted his head in thought. “And you know, it just occurred to me since I haven’t told him about the triad, and Jules wasn’t there, he might be assuming I’m not with her anymore, and am only with Evan, which makes me wonder how disappointed he’d be if he knew I was with both of them?

Pretty fucking disappointed, I imagine.”

Malcom sighed. “But the bottom line is I’m not supposed to be gay in any way, shape, or form, so in order to stay in Dad’s good graces—such as they are—Evan would have to be tossed aside like my pink shirt, and the part of me that likes men would have to be locked back in the closet.

Those are Dad’s terms … but even if I were to comply, it’s not like he and I would actually have any kind of a relationship going forward after all this anyway.

I know he knows that, which means his ultimatum is more about the optics of having a gay son than it is about maintaining our relationship. ”

Beverly gave him a sad smile. “Yes, I’m afraid so. And now that I know where he obviously stands on this and what he’s capable of, it changes some things for me.”

“It does?”

“Yes. When I said the way your father treated you was unforgivable, I didn’t just mean it was unforgivable in regard to you. I also meant it was unforgivable to me , as well. No one treats my child that way, especially not my child’s father.”

Malcom’s throat tightened at his mother’s words.

He hadn’t let himself have any expectations that his mom would say what he wanted and needed to hear, so hearing them filled him with unimaginable relief.

On the heels of that, though, came a quick stab of worry.

His mother was sounding like the female version of Michael Corleone, and Malcom could picture her in the scene where Michael tells his brother, “It’s not personal, Sonny.

It’s strictly business,” with zero inflection and cold, emotionless eyes.

Was she about to go on the warpath with his father? Because of what Malcom had told her?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Beverly said.

“You do?”

“You’re worried I’m going to confront your father because of what you’ve told me.”

“I am, a little.”

“Well, don’t be.”

“Don’t be worried, because you’re not going to confront him?”

“Oh, no, I will be confronting him, but you just don’t need to be worried about it,” she said. “He put himself in my crosshairs the moment he said those vile things to you last night, so he will be confronted about it.”

Knowing there was nothing he could say to make her change her mind, he said, “Fine. But could you at least wait until after I deal with him first?” The last thing Malcom wanted was for it to look like he’d gone crying to his mother, and she was fighting this battle for him.

“I can wait,” she agreed.

“Thank you.”

“So, how do you plan on dealing with him?” she asked.

“Well, first I’m going to tell him to go fuck himself, something I wish I’d been able to do last night, and then live my life without a father, I guess.

Those are his terms and I’m willing to accept them.

” He took a breath. “I just don’t have the particulars worked out, yet.

The where, the when, or the how, and I want to be able to handle it like Michael Corleone … and not Fredo.”

She actually smiled at The Godfather reference. “I understand, and you should take all the time you need to work out the particulars,” she said. “Make your father hear you, loud and clear.”

“I will,” he said, just as the sound of the front door opening, then closing could be heard, followed by two sets of footsteps coming down the hall.

A few seconds later, Jules and Evan stepped into the kitchen and spotted Malcom sitting at the island with a cup of coffee, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, his eye and cheek still swollen and bruising nicely.

“Good morning,” Jules said quietly .

After taking a long look at the damage he’d inflicted, Evan murmured, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Malcom returned.

“Is that Jules and Evan?” Beverly wanted to know.

“Yes,” Malcom answered.

“Is that your mom?” Jules asked.

“Yes. I was telling her what happened last night.” He turned the phone so Jules could see Beverly. “Hi, Beverly,” Jules told the other woman, leaning across the island to grab the phone.

“Hi, Jules.”

Evan moved in close to Jules, getting into the picture. “Hi, Beverly.”

“Evan,” she returned, a little flatly. “I want you to know I’m not happy about what you did to my handsome son’s face …”

“I’m not happy about it, either,” Evan admitted.

“Mom, I told you I hit him first,” Malcom reminded her. “So, I deserved it.”

“He did split my lip, if that makes you feel better,” Evan told Beverly, tilting the phone so she could see the damage to his own face.

“No more fighting,” she said sternly in her patented ‘Mom’ voice, like she was dealing with a misbehaving child. “That will make me feel better.”

After both men agreed to that, Beverly brought the FaceTime call to an end, leaving Jules, Malcom, and Evan in a slightly uncomfortable silence.

While Malcom watched, Jules and Evan got themselves cups of coffee, then leaned against the counter, leaving the island between them and Malcom.

“I’m sorry about what happened last night,” he began, getting right to it.

“I didn’t handle any of it very well—or at all—and I spent a large part of last night thinking through some things.

Unfortunately, I spent too much time holding onto the belief it could have gone better, you know, like if it had happened in his house, instead of a public restaurant.

And I know you—” he paused to look at Evan, “—said it wouldn’t have made a difference, but I kept telling myself it would have.

As if his ability to accept me as I really am was in some way influenced or dependent on the location of the ‘reveal’.

“I also spent too much time not being able to accept the fact that what I’d thought might happen actually was happening.

I think, when you have it in your mind what a specific consequence might be, you can’t fully grasp how it will impact you in real life, until it …

impacts the fuck out of you in real life.

And then, all of your so-called bravado an d mental preparedness takes a giant shit and you don’t know what to do.

Because even though you thought it could happen, deep down, you held out hope it wouldn’t .

“That was me, in the restaurant. It felt like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer.

I couldn’t comprehend he’d actually threatened me, nor could I vocalize any kind of response, because who does that to their child?

And I know I’m a grown man, but I’m still his son, and it just wouldn’t compute that he really wouldn’t want anything to do with me, in the event I choose to continue loving a man.

“So, it took me a little while to realize this was the situation I was in, it was one hundred percent real, and my father meant every ugly word he’d said to me.

Once I came to terms with that—around 4:00 a.m. or so, after baking cookies for several hours—I was able to accept there wouldn’t be any tolerance, let alone acceptance from him, and I can live with that.

What I can’t live without, though, is the two of you.

So, there’s only one choice for me to make, no matter how surreal or unimaginable it is, which is to tell my father to go fuck himself. ”

Evan released a sigh of relief. “Oh, God, am I glad to hear that.”

Blinking at Evan, Malcom asked, “Did you really think there was a chance I wouldn’t choose you?”

Since he seemed a little hurt at the possibility, Evan took a long sip of coffee to give himself a few extra seconds to come up with something reassuring. Instead, what came out was, “You said you were baking cookies?”

The unexpected detour of the conversation took Malcom by surprise. “Yes. Snickerdoodles,” he replied.

“That’s why it smells so good in here.”

“Evan.” Jules gave him a look that said, We’re having a serious discussion here .