Chapter 25

The nonstop flight from Moisant in New Orleans to Boston had been mostly smooth with only a bit of turbulence encountered over Washington, D.C. Then, the rental car Leo had reserved for their trip to Biddeford Pool to meet Jay’s parents was ready for them as promised. Now the two were speeding up the coast of New Hampshire toward Southern Maine and their final destination of Wilkinson Summer House. Toll stations popped up here and there which slowed things down a bit, particularly after they got onto the Maine Turnpike, but otherwise the trip remained uneventful. They were just a few miles from the Saco exit when Leo decided that a rehearsal of sorts was in order.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he said, “Okay, let me run it all by you again, and you buzz in if I get anything wrong. You call your father Dad, and he’s a surgeon at Massachusetts General. His real name is Joshua James Wilkinson, and his friends call him Josh. You call your mother Mum, she dabbles in interior decorating, and her maiden name was Elizabeth Bostwick. She prefers to be called Beth by her friends. So far, so good?”

Jay suppressed a little giggle. “Perfect. I think you’re ready for Alex Trebec and Jeopardy.”

“I just want to make a good impression, that’s all.”

“You will. Just be you. That’ll be enough.”

Leo drove a couple of miles further and said, “Oh, and if politics should come up, your parents are rock-ribbed, Rockefeller Republicans who don’t particularly trust Ronald Reagan and his background, but they also didn’t care for the way Jimmy Carter handled the Iran hostage crisis. Except that I’m not supposed to bring any of that up, if possible. No need to go there if we don’t absolutely need to.”

“Right.”

“And if AIDS comes up, we tell them what we know and that we are a monogamous couple.”

“Just remember that my father is a doctor, so he’s likely to be up on the latest. Something tells me that he’s not going to go there, though. I’m sure he trusts me to be doing all the safe, careful things. There’s something to be said about being a doctor’s son.”

Once Leo had exited the Turnpike, however, Jay turned into a tour guide deluxe, oozing with tidbits that spoke to his obvious fondness for every square inch of scenery they covered from tidal pool to sand dune.

“This stretch we’re approaching now is Fortunes Rocks Beach, and as you can see, a lot of these houses aren’t that fancy. Just a few rooms to get away from it all during the summer, and, of course, the beach is the main attraction. Lots of people from Boston have places up here.”

Leo just smiled and took it all in as they drove along slowly. Seeing how Jay was transformed by every feature of the landscape was more than enough of a reward for him.

“Just up ahead where St. Martin’s Lane opens up a bit is St. Martin’s In the Field Episcopal Chapel, where we all went to church on our visits,” Jay continued. “It’s very small and plain, as you can see, but I remember many a service there over the years. Angelle and I weren’t always on our best behavior because we couldn’t sit still. We wanted to be outside on the water in the kayak or out on the deck playing card games like Go Fish or Crazy Eights. What can I say? We thought summer was for vacation, not for school or church.”

Finally, their long journey by air and land came to an end. Leo parked the car in a gravel lot between a large barn and Wilkinson Summer House, a modest, two-story affair whose outstanding feature was the large deck Jay had described overlooking the glistening blue waters of Wood Island Bay.

“Honk the horn and let them know we’re here,” Jay said.

In no time, Josh and Beth Wilkinson emerged, and Leo was meeting them at last. The good doctor was just as Jay had described him—tall, with a well-trimmed mustache, a booming voice, and still very much in shape due to his fondness for tennis and sailing at the nearby Abenakee Club. Jay’s Mum, Beth, was the very epitome of conservative taste in clothes, wearing a colorful red sweater and pleated blue skirt with a close-cropped brunette hairstyle that framed her youthful face. They both could have stepped out of a catalog for sportswear and were most welcoming to Leo as the introductions were made.

“Get your luggage and let’s all head inside to get you both settled,” Josh said after the handshakes and hugs. “We want you to get good and relaxed. As a physician for all these many years, I can tell you that Biddeford Pool is good for what ails you.”

“I can’t believe how cool it is here,” Leo said, as he took his suitcase out of the trunk. “When we left New Orleans, it was ninety-two degrees with humidity you wouldn’t believe. Five minutes after you take a shower this time of year down there, you’re sweating up a storm once you go outside.”

“I told Leo to brace himself,” Jay said, handling his own luggage. “We can even have fog up here some days. I told him to pack a couple of his best sweaters, but he doesn’t have any. Meanwhile, it’s been quite an adjustment for me getting used to the subtropical climate of New Orleans. I can predict the weather just fine down there, but I sure can’t control it.”

“Maine in June requires no air-conditioning,” Mum said as they all walked toward the house. “Nature does that for us, and at night, we generally sleep under blankets.”

After Leo and Jay had gotten reasonably settled in the very upstairs bedroom Jay had called his own as a boy, Mum served everyone a lunch of lobster rolls and green salad out on the deck. Then she offered to give Leo the grand tour, not of the house, but of the outdoors, which was the main attraction of living in Biddeford Pool.

“As you can see, we don’t have much of a beach,” she began, standing with Leo and Jay at the edge of the manicured lawn which gave way to wooden steps and a railing leading down steeply to huge, misshapen rocks. “But we do have the best view in Biddeford Pool.” She pointed straight ahead. “That little strip of green out there with the lighthouse at the southern tip is Wood Island. To the north is Saco Bay, and on the other side of the island is the Atlantic Ocean. At night, you’ll hear the buoys clanging. They won’t keep you up, though. Believe me, they’ll put you right to sleep.”

“I guarantee you the best night’s sleep you’ve ever had,” Jay added.

“When we bought this piece of property back in the 1950s, I thought this was the most majestic view in the entire world.” She turned to focus briefly on her son. “I’ve never told you this before, but I wanted to call it Majestic Cove. But it already had a name—Philip Rock—so I deferred to history.”

“I don’t like Philip Rock nearly as much,” Jay said. “It’s not nearly as descriptive.”

“Well, since you and Angelle will inherit the property after we’re gone, you can change it to whatever you want and have note cards printed up to prove it. I doubt there’s such a thing as the geography police, but I know for certain you can’t be brought up on charges for your stationery.”

“I don’t like to think of you as gone, though. I’m nowhere near ready for that yet.”

“Fact of life, son.”

Although Jay looked decidedly uncomfortable at the turn the conversation had taken, Leo was smiling at the discussion of a name change. It was music to his ears, but he decided to keep it to himself. Some things did not translate well or defied explanation. But it all made sense to him. Here he was on the coast of Maine in June, his love for Jay busting out all over. It made him want to sing loudly, embracing the tide coming in which was clashing with the rocks, the salt air beguiling his nostrils. He recalled what Margaret Markham had said back at Sewanee about all the chorus girls being taken with John Raitt during the original run of Carousel at the Majestic Theatre. He remembered how his mother had sped up his healing from a bad case of the flu by introducing him to the cast album of Carousel when he was only ten. He had listened to the voices of Gordon MacRae and Shirley Jones over and over, falling in love with every note. Eight years later, he had felt ten feet tall singing R&H’s epic, “Soliloquy”, believing during those seven minutes under the glare of a follow spot that his diaphragm could conquer the world, could overcome any adversity he might encounter, starting with being the closeted heartthrob of the school. It was energy that would actually serve him well once the real world began pressing in on him, pulling no punches.

Alas, there was no piano in Wilkinson Summer House to entertain Jay’s parents as he so sincerely wanted to do; but their warmth and acceptance was more than enough when it came to interaction. He envisioned that there would be other opportunities to play and sing for the Wilkinson family, and he would take it from there.

After a dinner of clam chowder, fresh vegetables and homemade blueberry pie, everyone moved to the living room just off the deck to watch the sun go down through the wide windows. Although Leo had grown up with breathtaking sunsets on the Mississippi River at Beau Pre, the one he was experiencing now at Biddeford Pool gave him a sense of completion that he could not easily explain. The orange and crimson streaks across the sky behind the Wood Island Lighthouse were like strokes of a fragile painting that would not last long. It would soon disappear in trembling fashion, but it would leave behind in Leo’s core a sense of finally belonging rather than always being on the outside looking in.

After the horizon had vacuumed up the last of the setting sun, Mum said, “You boys must be tired after your long trip. Dad and I will turn in, too, if you’ll excuse us.”

And though manners were made quickly, Leo and Jay weren’t quite ready to jump into bed and wait for the buoys to start up with their clanging lullabies.

“Get it out of the suitcase,” Jay said. “Come on, give. I saw you pack it.”

With great fanfare, Leo produced the bubble bath crystals which were then poured into the clawfoot tub in their black- and-white tiled bathroom. They intended to wash away their travel weariness with the boyish horseplay they had perfected at Lake’s suggestion, and it did not fail to achieve its relaxing aim once again.

Then they piled into bed, snuggling together under the blankets after kissing each other goodnight and waiting for the sounds of the salt water lapping at the shore outside and the buoys to bless them with a well-earned rest.

They slept in the next morning, and Mum did not disturb them, instead waiting for them to arise and fixing them a late breakfast of oatmeal with fresh blueberries and buttered toast with blueberry jam. That second full day was spent paddling the kayak to Wood Island and back, and then driving up to Portland for a tour of the busy waterfront and a gourmet dinner at Fore Street and its open, wood-fire grill.

At the end of the third half-day, Leo stood with Jay out on the deck, his arm around his sweetheart’s shoulder and said, “Someday, if it ever becomes legal, I want us to get married here. I think everything in my life has been leading up to that.”

Jay kissed him on the cheek and said, “Mine, too. We must do everything in our power to make it happen.”

When it came time to leave and head back down to Boston for the flight home, Dr. Josh Wilkinson sounded just the right note. “Jay, your Mum and I are so happy you’ve found such an outstanding young man to spend your life with; and Leo, I hope we’ve made you feel welcome in our family. From Angelle’s letters, it appears she’s found that special someone, too, in your magazine photographer, Chase Knowles. That kind of happiness is all we’ve ever wanted for our children. Have a safe trip back and continue to use safe judgment in this crazy world of ours.”

That, Leo noted, was the only reference, veiled as it was, to the AIDS crisis that the good doctor had made during the visit, and it came off in well-intentioned and appropriate fashion. The warm hugs and kisses on the cheek that Mum gave to both her son and Leo tied a neat little bow on everything.

Back on the Turnpike, Leo turned to Jay and said, “I wonder if things’ll change enough for us to get legally married someday. It seems a million years away to me with all the pushback from AIDS that’s happening. Maybe it’ll never be in the cards for people like us.”

Jay managed to minimize the doubt in his voice. “I don’t know. What I do know is we can love each other the best we can. That is under our control, if nothing else is.”

On the flight home, Leo thought about that last statement several times, his head resting on Jay’s shoulder. Maybe getting married was a pipe dream. Maybe it would never happen. But one thing was perfectly clear: it was time to settle down earnestly to life with Jay.