It had started to rain. Grammy and Abby rushed into the church. "Whew," Grammy said when they stepped into the foyer. "I hope Chester stays inside this morning." Even catching a small cold, could turn fatal for Chester.

Abby tried to give Grammy a reassuring look as they headed down the hall. When they stepped into the concourse a strange sensation swirled around Abby. It was not as overt as it had been at school, but it was still there. Curiosity was reflected in some eyes, in others there was the fire of condemnation. Samantha saw them wriggled her fingers at them. Her mother grasped her hand and led her away. She did not look at them or acknowledge their presence. No one came forward or said anything. This had happened at school, Abby had not expected it to happen here too. Abby looked at Grammy. Grammy's lips were pressed into a tight smile. She said, "You sit with Lila this morning in church, I don't want you sitting by yourself while I sing in the choir."

Was Grammy trying to protect her from church people? "Okay," she said.

Grammy's friend Unice came into the concourse and hugged Grammy. "Chin up," she said. She hugged Abby too. Unice's movement toward them, brought others closer too. Hesitant smiles broke across some nervous faces. Abby left Grammy and made her way to her own class. The sound of flip flops followed her. She turned. It was David. He was dressed in camouflage overalls. On his feet were twisted tube socks with his toes thrust through the flipflop straps. "Good morning Juliet."

Abby raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

"Okay, no Juliet crap this morning. I promise. Want me to come to class with you?"

Truth was she did, but his presence there would probably only make things worse for her not better. "I will be okay. Go on to your class."

He grinned at her then headed down the hall.

Abby turned into her class. She was the first one there as usual. Mr. Peterson said, "Morning Abby."

"Morning."

When she took a seat he took the one beside her. His eyes were full of kind light. He was a nice man, a Christian man in the best sense of the word. He said, "I'm sorry to hear about Chester. I am praying for him and for you and your grandma. I'd like to stop by and Chester. He was always good to me, even though I was such a dork and he was so popular. Do you think he'd mind a visit from me?"

Though she wasn't sure, she said, "I think he might like it.”

Pleased, Mr. Peterson said, "I'll call him."

*

The week had been quieter than usual, well, than ever before. Grammy claimed she had cut back on her students, but Abby suspected there were a few, like Samantha Carter's mother who had withdrawn their child from piano lessons because of Chester. People might talk big about their tolerance, but when it came to actual follow through, with some, it was not their. Abby headed toward the stairs. Chester called from his room, "Abby, could you come in here?"

This was the first time he had EVER invited her into his room. David had been in there way more than she ever had. Fear pressed in on her. What could he possibly want? She turned toward his door and said, "Uh, sure."

Going into the room disconcerted her. This was really Grammy's room. Though none of her things were in it or on the walls, it was still painted sky blue and the windows still revealed the same section of the bay. Chester was seated by the window. His guitar lay across his unmade bed. A small table by the window held a few photographs Abby had never seen before. The frames were pretty beat up and a couple had cracks in their glass. There was one near the back of a lady holding a baby. Chester saw her gaze, he picked up the photo and handed it to her. It was a picture of her and Grammy. Chester cleared his throat and said, "I am sorry, for the way I have treated you since I got here. Hell, I'm sorry for the way I treated you your whole life. I hope you forgive me, not for me, but for you. Holding a grudge against my old man has poisoned my entire life-" His voice broke off and then he added, "I don't want that for you."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Abby looked up from the photo to Chester. The vulnerability in his eyes was frightening. Abby had never had anyone look at her like he was. She couldn't bear it, so her eyes returned to the picture.

He continued, "I thought you were a big mistake. I was so wrong. That God took my stupidity and somehow created you is a mystery to me." These were words Abby never expected to hear, had never dreamed she might hear. She was rendered completely silent. His eyes were upon her, she could feel them. Her heart told her that some how she must look at him, but everything from the past warned her against it. Perhaps they were just words uttered out of guilt and fear by a dying man in search of heaven. Perhaps they had no real meaning for her and her own life. Still she must know, if they were true. She struggled to lift her eyes. It was hard, but she managed to look at him. The joy in his eyes was like nothing she had ever seen. Was it possible that he might be learning to love her after all this time? Did she dare hope, dare risk being hurt yet again? She handed the photo back to him. He put it on the table.

An awkward silence grew between them. It was unbearable in its intensity. The instinct to run thrummed inside of Abby. She did not want to feel the crashing emotions and thoughts that were confusing and frightening her.

Chester picked up another photo and handed it to her. In it he had his arm slung around a very frail looking man. "This is of me and Kent." He did not say, but Abby instinctively knew this was the man Chester had loved. She studied the picture, Kent had such kind eyes. There was a gentleness and humility in them, that made her wonder how he had ever ended up with Chester. Chester said, "He died of AIDS related pneumonia in August. He's the one who told me I should come home."

"Oh." So Kent had instigated her family's reunion. Thanks Kent.

The light in Chester's eyes went out. "I met him three years ago. He was the first home I ever had. I didn't have to pretend with him. Next to Lila he was the kindest, gentlest person I have ever known. I took care of him, wish I had died with him. I scares me to think what lies ahead for me.” He paused and looked directly at Abby, “I do know what I am putting you and Ma through, and very I’m sorry. I would take it all back if I could. I never understood until recently that my consequences deeply effect other people besides me."

Abby had no idea what to say. Her brain felt like a the way a buzz saw sounds. The room was filled with too bright light. While there was some help in realization and admittance of the truth, it did not change that truth.

Grammy came into the room. On her hands were latex gloves. She held a syringe with a needle. She glanced at Abby. "I didn't realize you were in here."

Abby backed out of the room. She didn't know Chester had to have shots. She hated needles. Already she could feel the prick of an imaginary one puncturing her vein. She rushed up stairs feeling sick and dizzy. From Grammy's room came the strains of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde. The music Abby into the aria. The character Isolde sang, "Seht ihr's Freunde?/ Seht ihr's nicht?/ Immer lichter/ wie er leuchtet,/ stern-umstrahlet/hoch sich hebt?" Though she hated opera, in memory she heard her Grammy's voice telling her the meaning of these words, "She is asking her friends if they can see how bright her loved one shines." Immediately, Abby thought of the joyful shining light in Chester's eyes, the light that shown in his baby picture above the phone, the light Lila was painting in his eyes, and the light she had seen when he looked at her moments ago. She shoved these thought s away, turned into her room and thrust on her rifle range headphones. She would not listen to the rest of Isolde's aria, Mild und Leise. Chester was Grammy's loved one, not hers.

*

Abby went into Grammy's room to kiss her goodnight. In most ways, Grammy had turned this upstairs room into a replica of the downstairs room that Chester now occupied only one thing was still missing. She had not put Grandy's picture beside her bedside Bible.

Grammy notice Abby's gaze. She said, "Been wondering if you were going to ask me about that. Well your Grandy is in a box, and that is where he is going to stay until I get over being pissed at him."

Shocked, Abby just stared. Grammy NEVER said words like pissed, she didn't even say freaking or butt.

Grammy flushed red, then sighed and sat down on her bed. "It seems silly to still be so angry with him, but I am. Can't stand the sight of him. He knew how to work me, he knew how to get his way. So does Chester. Too much a like and too different at the same time." She shook her head. Abby could feel her grandmother's thoughts drifting from the present to the past. "I should have stood up to him. I should have loved Chester enough to tell his father what I thought, but I didn't. Maybe things would be different now if I had, but I can't know, I can ever know. Lila says I have to forgive myself, but how can I?"

“Just like you forgive everybody else I guess.”

Stunned, Grammy just stared at her. Abby gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left. She did not want to hear more. In her room she picked up her copy of Romeo and Juliet and laid down on her bed. She opened the play to where she had left off Act V scene i and read, "If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep-" Abby slammed the play closed. Truth, it was a word that she did not want to see or hear. The house that had once been so good at keeping secrets had divulged too many lately and she had had enough. She turned off her light.