2055

As we are leaving the house through the front door I am mentioning to Kenny, "I don't know how to thank you for getting me out of here." "Think nothing of it darling.  Our cute little millionaire is quite the life support for codependency...Where did you say you found him?" "Remember Father Griffin?"  Kenny is taking the lead as he always used to on our walks together. "Oh my God.  Him?"  Then he says, "Wow has this neighbourhood ever changed.  Just look at all the brand new tacky mcmansions.  They are the architectural equivalent of extremely tacky over-the-top-drag."  And now he lets off a melodramatic shudder. "Well, not long after you disappeared, Father Griffin went through quite the dramatic conversion in Switzerland in none other than the Christian community that Carl's mom was in charge of." "what!  Are you serious?  How did he get there?" "Oh, British Airways or Lufthansa, I would imagine.  Maybe Air Canada." "Oh Christopher, you have lost none of your old wit." "He has his connections.  It is a terribly long and complicated story.  They first met here when Carl was eighteen and his sister thirteen and that was just after their old man was shot dead and they were on the run hitchhiking in case they would be next.  They were picked up by Robert's boyfriend, some rich banker, and spent several weeks in his big fancy house near Maple Ridge where he bought sex off of Carl in exchange for letting them both stay there.  Anyway, they managed to get out using blackmail, and with the money, got to the Dutch Consulate in Vancouver and they helped fly them back to Holland. Their mother moved them to Switzerland where she could keep a close eye on her rebel boy.  When Griffin showed up and won them over with his charm, Carl and Melissa threatened to out him to everybody, and then and there he truly fell to his knees at the foot of the cross." "So how does that connect you to Carl?"

2054

"Whenever you're near I hear a symphony", sing the Supremes from Carl's smartphone. "Did he just change his ring", says Kenny to me in a theatrical whisper. "Looks that way." "I knew this one's a lady.  I can still read 'em from ten kilometres." "From twenty", and now the others are snickering.  Carl has shoved his chair back a few feet for a little privacy.  I can tell it's his sister, absolutely no formalities or etiquette coming from Carl.  Just the facts, ma'am. "Christopher", whispers Kenny.  "Let's go walk in the woods." "That is an excellent idea." "Just you and me.  Like old times." "Got it.  After clean up." "You are not doing all the work around here, kiddo.  Let them do it." "Roger." "Oh, leave him out of it, darling", he camps, "It's just you and me." Carl has just turned off his phone and looks a little bit grim and serious. "You just changed your ringtone", says Francois. "I'm afraid I have.  That was Mel.  She is on her way to get Mom out of hospital, she is being discharged today." "Where is she going to stay?" asks Francois. "There's no room here, plus she needs bedding, so I have to get out of here and do some shopping.  Are you coming", and he is not looking at anyone else but me. "We're going for a walk in the forest", announces Kenny. "Oh."  and now the rivalries are beginning. "Erik", say I, "Why don't you go with Carl.  You have exquisite European taste." "I'm not driving out to Ikea." "You don't have to drive out to Ikea", says Francois a little bit impatiently. "Do you want to come with me", says Carl with a slight tincture of reluctance in his voice to my brother-in-law. "Okay". he replies with equal reluctance. "How about you guys", says Carl to Francois and Ethan, now as though trying not to plead. "Oh I don't see why not", he says.  "Ethan?" Ethan gives a slight nod, as though knowing and accepting that his options are limited...

2053

"So let us propose a toast", announces Francois, lifting up high his white coffee mug, "to Milly."  and we are all laughing, and Carl is laughing loudest. "Speech. speech!" I call. "Well, I certainly don't intend to be the only woman living here", camps Kenny who is now one hundred percent Harriet..  Yes, I have so missed his campy sass, and this is like pure water from a spring bubbling out of the hot desert sands.  Dad only tolerated Kenny as Harriet, and from time to time, especially in our last three years together with Kenny, would take me aside and brusquely mutter, "Please, let's not encourage any of this."  and I would meekly reply "any of what?" and Dad would just lift his hands in understated theatrical despair and murmur, "it's all in your hands, Lord."  and Kenny, fully possessed by the she imp Harriet, would come sashaying into the living room lisping something like, "Oh what two adorable handsome men you both are", and then squeal out a super girlish "Ooh!" Ethan reaches for a Peek Freen fruit creme and says, "this is going to be different."   But now, for the first time, he is smiling.  Beautifully and normally Ethan is smiling, one hundred percent random guy who rides a bike.  This is so refreshingly normal.

2052

Francois has just fastened the white page onto the fridge door under the fridge magnet and Kenny gushes, "My fridge magnet.  You still have it."  and he walks over to touch it, as though it is for him a holy icon. "I just put it up now", say I. " I was hoping you'd see it." No one seems ready to comment on the document that is written on that page, as though by silent consensus we are already agreeing to no longer talk about the Refuge, nor any of our experiences there, and I am frankly hoping that we do give it a rest, for a while anyway, as I am sure are also the others. "Is there enough room for everyone", wonders Erik. "Yep," says Carl, "Six chairs for six bums." "Oh speak for yourself, Mildred", camps Kenny. "Mildred", guffaws Carl in mock offense.  "Did I just hear you call me Mildred?" "It'll be Milly for short", says Francois with a sharp little giggle as he seats himself with his coffee refill. "Well. I never", says Carl, hands on his hips, then flicking his wrist like a stereotypal queen, then taking his place across from Francois. "Sure you never, girl." says Kenny in that wicked drag queen cackle of his, or hers, that I always used to love, "Sure you never". and he slides onto the chair next to Carl.   "It better not stick." "Now just move that butch ass of yours, Milly, cuz I am sitting next to you." "Too late, Carl", say I, taking myself a seat at the end of the table while Ethan and Erik both follow suit, "Or should I say...Milly..."

2051

First, Francois appears in the kitchen doorway.  He is wearing socks now, apparently felt more decorous clothing his bare feet.  The socks are white, almost blinding neon white, which makes sense, given he bleaches all his whites when he does laundry.  Not even my father, or I, could bring ourselves to be so domestically fastidious, but this is Francois.  Neat, never a hair out of place, punctilious, correct, with a sense of humour and especially with truckloads of good common sense.  He is also wearing grey track pants, and a t- shirt, white, bleached blinding white which plays so beautifully against the deep maroon tones of his dark skin. "We are starting to feel abandoned", he says with a smile, and brandishing a white piece of paper in his right hand.  "Here are the reminders, all written down.  Is there a roll of scotch tape so I can stick it on the fridge door?  Oh wait, here's a fridge magnet.  How come I missed that?" He is also super sharp and observant.  I reply, "Only because only just now did I put it on there."  It is a rainbow with a brown cross superimposed on it, a gift from Kenny before he went missing a quarter century ago. "We're having refills...with cookies!...", says Carl, "Right here at the kitchen table." "I will have to go back for our mugs", says Francois. "Never mind", says Carl, "Our guests can do that", and he calls in a near holler, "Kenny.  Ethan.  bring all the mugs to the kitchen because we are going to resume at the table here." "Your wish is our command, oh Great White Dutch Sugar Daddy", replies Kenny, who soon comes in carrying three mugs, all dangling from his fingers, a sly little smile on his face, followed by a rather grim and solemn Ethan, carrying the other two one in each hand, with great care as if he is afraid he might drop the mugs on the floor and break them.

2050

"Did I just hear you calling?" says Carl, appearing in the kitchen doorway. And now Erik appears uncertain and a bit vulnerable as he stammers at Carl,  "Oh... I didn't mean...I hope..." And Carl, grinning broadly, approaches my brother-in-law, roughly rubs his wavy chestnut hair, and says to me, "Your brother-in-law really knows how to find his way into a Dutchman's heart", then gives him a short gentle hug from behind, and slides onto the chair next to him. "Wanna help us get the coffee and cookies out to the living room", say I. "Cookies?  Well, if it's all too heavy for you guys to carry unaided...Or, the other three can get their lazy butts in here and we'll have it in the kitchen." There is something in both their relaxed posture that suggests that Carl and Erik are now really beginning to accept each other.  In fact, Erik's sidelong glance at Carl also suggests that he might be a little bit attracted to him, and Carl doesn't really appear to notice or even care.  This is going to be one very interesting little household...

2049

The coffee pot has sputtered to its inevitable fateful conclusion.  A completely full pot of Costa Rican so black, strong and intense that I wonder if it would be safe to drink. Remembering how strong my brother-in-law used to prepare it while he shared our condo with Greta and me, I ask him, "Is there any left in the bag?" "Plenty for tomorrow morning." "If any of us can get to sleep tonight." "You always liked my coffee", he replies as we both return to the table.  It is still hard to get him to take teasing and that is just so very Nordic of him, but if he is going to coexist here with Carl and his Dutch kind of rough play then Erik is going to find himself on one hell of a learning curve.  But I also know this about Erik.  He is very very fragile.  Especially right now, especially after having to escape with his life from the clutches of his own sister, and that diabolical nephilim, Sven, and especially after almost getting siderailed into an unnecessarily long quarantine in the hotel just after he got off the plane.  And if he remembers anything else, it is going to remain vague and dreamlike.  We are going to have to tread carefully and especially Carl, who is now calling from the living room, "Hey do you guys need help with the coffee or are you having a conference in there?" "You can always get your Dutch ass in here and serve yourself, Carl", retorts Erik with an unexpectedly gleeful little snicker...and now I know he's going to be okay...