Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Uncle Lance’s passing was a terribly shocking event for Sky.
The death itself and the manner of his passing weren’t a shock because the man was seventy-eight and a notorious player.
Lance had even warned Sky that he planned to go out in the arms of at least one beautiful woman and as naked as the day he was born.
Lance had also been a health nut and loved his smoothies so the banana was apropos, as far as Sky was concerned.
He couldn’t blame a guy for walking on the wild side at Lance’s age.
And Lance’s motto had always been “Why not?”
“Don’t waste your time trying to please other people, Sky. Love whoever the hell you want and make love as often as you can,” Uncle Lance had said right after Sky told his parents he was gay.
Neither had seemed surprised. In fact, Sky’s father had sighed at his newspaper and said “Of course you are. You won’t go for a real major or help with the family practice. You were running out of ways to disappoint us so you might as well be that too.”
Adele had simply rolled her eyes and said “I’ve always known, darling. It hasn’t made you more interesting or a better dresser so why make a big thing out of it?”
Feeling alone, misunderstood, and rejected, Sky stormed out and went to Lance and Cora’s. They had comforted Sky and told him that everything was going to be okay, that he could never disappoint them.
Sky had expected to be sad when he heard about Lance’s passing as he had been when he heard about Cora’s. But the news had hit him like a sledgehammer and Sky was afraid to pay his last respects as he signed his name on the visitor’s log and stalled in the funeral home’s lobby.
The older woman who owned the funeral home had a nurturing and grandmotherly bearing and had taken pity on Sky. “It’s normal to think about your own mortality at a time like this, and all these caskets and urns can get overwhelming.”
He was probably the last to arrive. He’d been in Chicago for a conference and had caught an early flight but it had taken a while to track down a cab at the station.
“We have a small chapel we call the ‘Reflection Room’ where friends and family can step away and catch their breath or pray alone with a chaplain when we have one here. You’re welcome to sit in there until you’re ready.”
“I’ll be fine. Just need a few more minutes.” Sky clutched the chest pocket of his coat for comfort. The first lure Sky had ever made was there, wrapped in one of Lance’s monogrammed handkerchiefs. “I have something to deliver,” he murmured under his breath.
His feet didn’t want to carry him any further but Sky had to make it to the casket, at least. It didn’t matter what anyone had to say at the visitation or what hymns were sung at the service.
Uncle Lance was less of a Protestant than Sky was and the two had spent many a Sunday sermon passing knock-knock jokes and notes about the other congregants to each other from the back pew.
There was a plaque by the doors with Lance’s picture and a comforting passage from the Bible.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled…”
Soft organ music played from the speakers overhead and Sky could hear his mother crying.
“You would have hated every bit of this.” Sky smirked wryly at Lance’s photo.
“If anyone had asked me, I would have had you cremated and dumped your ashes on the beach at sunset. You loved the smell of the sea and the breeze on your face and to hear kids playing, and no one was a better bikini inspector.”
That’s probably what Sky would have said if he had agreed to give a eulogy but he wasn’t feeling up to it and anything else he’d have to say was between him and Uncle Lance.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Sky took a deep breath, then pushed open the door and strode straight to the casket.
He didn’t make eye contact with anyone or acknowledge any of the waves or apologetic smiles, too focused on his target.
The lure was clutched in his fist and Sky was shaking as he stood over Uncle Lance's corpse in the open casket.
He looked as dashing as ever and like he had just nodded off in his best gray suit.
“Hang onto this until we see each other again.” Sky tucked the handkerchief and lure inside Lance’s coat and gave his hand one last, affectionate squeeze.
“Find the best spots and don’t catch all the fish before I get there.
” His voice crumbled and for a moment, Sky needed the side of the casket for support.
What was left?
So many of the pieces of Sky’s past were disappearing—for better or for worse—and he felt like he was fading.
Losing his father had felt like a missed chance and being robbed of closure.
And he’d been in an emotional free fall since he cut ties with Sarina and Mason.
But Sky was lost as he said his last goodbyes to Uncle Lance.
As far as role models for manhood, Lance was the worst and had taught Sky how not to behave as a man.
But he had also taught Sky that everyone was worthy of love and that he was fine, just the way he was.
Lance had understood and accepted Sky and had given him a safe place to land every time his “real” parents had rejected him.
Sky lowered, dizzy and ears ringing as he kissed Lance’s forehead.
“Love you.” He backed away on weak legs and ignored the way the room tilted as he turned, keeping his eyes locked on the door.
His skin prickled as Sky began to sweat but he kept his head up and stumbled along, picking up speed as his stomach churned and the room grew dark and closed in around him.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” a warm, deep voice said softly.
“Mase?”
Sky was wrapped in a tight, secure embrace and rushed out of the room. They turned down a short hallway and Mason used his shoulder to shove another door open. He ushered Sky into the small room, stroking his hair and back.
“I’m so, so sorry.” Mason shushed soothingly while he rocked them. “So, so sorry about Lance. And everything else, Sky.”
“He’s gone!” Sky let go and cried into Mason’s shoulder. “He’s gone and I—! I… I don’t know!”
“Shhhh! It’s okay. I don’t know if we’ll ever make sense of him or this family but don’t try to process it all right now,” Mason advised with a sad sigh.
“Just think about all the reasons you love him. Lord knows you’re probably the only one here he genuinely cared about, other than himself,” he added, then grunted when Sky delivered a weak punch to his ribs.
“I loved him because he didn’t pretend that he was high and mighty like everyone else. He knew he was a scoundrel but he never hid it or told other people how to live their lives.”
“That is true,” Mason conceded. “The thing I liked best about Lance was how much he loved you and how proud he was when you got into Columbia and when you graduated. He told everyone you were going to be a famous writer and the biggest thing to come out of Roseview.”
Sky nodded, unable to speak, he was so choked-up with pain and grief.
He cried for several minutes, soaking the shoulder of Mason’s coat but he didn’t seem to mind.
His arms stayed firm around Sky and his touch remained tender as he kneaded and scrubbed Sky’s scalp.
Eventually, Sky’s sobs settled into sniffling hiccups.
“Thanks. I feel a lot better,” he said and finally raised his head and took stock of their surroundings.
The room was small and the lights were turned low.
An artificial stained glass window was mounted on the wall across from them and glowed softly, casting pastel shapes onto the other walls and Mason’s right cheek and ear.
They were seated on a love seat and there were two armchairs and a coffee table bearing a box of Kleenex.
The rest of the room was bare but Sky found it peaceful and soothing to his overwhelmed emotions and senses.
“Is this the Reflection Room?”
There was a faint chuckle from Mason as he looked around.
“I was worried you might have a rough time so I snooped around for someplace quiet I could hide you. It’s not as bad as a supply closet, but it could use more art or some color on the walls.
Maybe a few candles…” He held up a finger, then reached under his seat and produced a bottle of water.
“Here. You’ve been traveling all day and it was really intense for you in there.
You won’t know a moment of peace if you faint in front of Nadine or your sister.
And you don’t want Adele to think you’re trying to upstage her,” Mason warned with a gentle nudge.
“Thanks.” Sky accepted the bottle and opened it and took a long drink. He was thirstier than he had realized and finished most of the bottle in three large gulps.
“Good thing I have two.” Mason ducked to pull out another. “I thought you’d be in a hurry and too sad to eat anything today so I also brought these.” He handed Sky another bottle of water and two strawberry Jell-O cups.
“Oh… Wow,” Sky mouthed, overcome again as he was bombarded by more memories.
Strawberry Jell-O had been his comfort snack since he was a child and the only thing he’d eat when he was sick or scared.
“You remembered?” he asked in a broken whisper but Mason didn’t seem to notice, he was retrieving a spoon from inside his coat.
“Yup. Here.” He traded it for one of the cups so he could open it for Sky. “Did you eat anything today?” he asked, taking back the spoon and digging out a scoop. He held it out to Sky. “Come on. Open up.”
Too shaken to do anything else, Sky craned his neck and obediently opened his mouth.
Some of his wettest dreams had started just like this...
Breathing was impossible as Mason lifted the spoon to his lips but Sky’s soul quieted as the Jell-O dissolved on his tongue and he swallowed.
The sugar and the familiar flavor did their magic and Sky laughed as he took the cup and spoon from Mason and sank against the back of the seat.