Page 75 of Big Britches
“Hold on,” Barb said, hands to temples. “My head is spinning.”
“Now, you know how I felt. I’ve had a couple of days to process it, though.”
“So, you’re telling me Milton Barksdale, mayor of Morehead, has had a decades-long crush on Truman Shepherd, mayor of Spoon? Our Daddy?”
“That about sums it up.”
“I don’t get it. Why would Milton hold a grudge? Why would he marry–what’s her name?”
“Camille.”
“Camille. Why wouldn’t he just move on to–I don’t know–some other man? Someone who would make him happy?”
“Small towns are full of secrets, Barb. You know that. We all do. It was another time, another generation. Maybe he wanted kids. Maybe, like me, he was afraid of what others would think.”
“But why hold it against him?” Barb asked. “Why the grudge? Unless–”
“Daddy swears there was no animosity on his part, that it was Milton who got weird. Once Mama came into the picture, things got even more awkward–jealous tirades, drunken apologies.”
“Oh. He had it bad,” Barb said.
“Daddy says it turned into obsession. He had to put his foot down. He told Milton that it was never gonna happen between them, that he needed to just get over it and move on. So, Mason did–with Camille. Suddenly, everything became a competition. If Daddy and Mama were up for homecoming king and queen, Milton and Camille would soon be on the ballot too. Academics, sports, whatever. Daddy said it was as if Milton was trying to prove himself better–not necessarily better than Daddy, mind you, but better than Mama. Like looky here–see what you’re missing.”
“He’s been doing it ever since,” Roz said, her eyes adrift with thought. “Business, politics…”
Titus nodded.
“What kind of person does that?” Barb asked. “I mean, it’s bad enough to repress yourself and be miserable, but what about poor Camille? She’s been living a lie she’s possibly unaware of this whole time. He may not even love her. How on earth can a gay man marry and start a family under such false pretenses?”
Titus stared at both of them, eyes welling.
“Oh, T.” Barb grabbed his hand. “I am so sorry. That is not what I meant.”
“It’s OK. It’s OK.” Titus squeezed her hand, smiling through tears. His eyes darted toward the pool. The kids had noticed nothing unusual, still practicing their dismounts. He took an enormous breath, then exhaled. “It’s complicated. P says it’s a form of internalized homophobia. He explained it to Daddy and me. Apparently, there are many types. It can be as severe as gay on gay hatred or violence. But it can also be as subtle as remaining closeted to spare your friends and family embarrassment when coming out… not disappointing them, so to speak.”
They were quiet for a while, not knowing how to continue. Finally, Roz broke the silence. “I miss this, you know? The three of us. All we need is a tailgate and a bottle of hooch.”
Barb chuckled. “Yeah. Good times.”
“That’s what I’m getting at,” Titus said. “I wanna get our mojo back. Did Daddy speak with you about school, Barb? He said he was going to.”
“Yeah. But I refuse to burden them with what they already have on their shoulders. You said it yourself, T. Hawthorne House is a handful. I can’t put that expense and my going to school on their plate, too. Especially now.”
“It won’t be a burden; it’ll be a relief. You’re their daughter. They want to provide for you.”
“It’s too much, T. I’ve practically blown my inheritance on maintenance alone.”
“What if you commuted to Georgia College?”
“Milledgeville? Sure. It’s a great liberal arts school. But it still means I’d be gone most weekdays.”
“I have a plan.” Titus grinned. “A business plan.”
Both women stared at Titus, intrigued. He continued, “Aside from possible political endeavors, I’m partnering with Roz in a daycare business. I propose that we rent Hawthorne House for operations.”
Barb’s eyebrows lifted briefly with contemplation, then fell into a wince. “Not exactly what I had envisioned for the place.”
“Only temporarily. A few years, until we can afford to build. Probably about the same amount of time you’re in school.”