Tripod Chapter 47

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Tripod -- Chapter 47

On Saturday, Darius decided to surprise his family by having dinner ready for them at home when they returned from Los Angeles. Of course, he asked me if I could help.

"What time does their flight get in?"

"6:30 PM. Unless things get really fucked up, we should be home by 8:00, but I don't want to eat too late. What can we make that we can heat up when we get home, but will still taste good?"

"Do you want to impress them and make something Persian?"

"Nah, they'll have had enough Persian food over the past week. Definitely something not Persian"

"Lamb stew? I know your family likes lamb. It's pretty simple. We can make it ahead of time, except for some veggies that get thrown in at the end. I'll stay at your place while you pick everyone up at the airport. Then you text me when you're on your way and I'll have it all ready by the time you guys get home, OK? Even if you're running late, stew still tastes good when it sits warm on the stove."

"That's sounds awesome. I owe you a nice dinner at my place. Remember that shit show the last time you were over when my folks dropped the bomb about moving to L. A.?"

"Wait. When you said that you owe me a nice dinner, that usually means I don't have to cook it."

"Oops, well, I'm at least hoping that the mood at this dinner is better than the last one. I'll take you out for a decent meal another night, OK?"

"Wait, I do all the work and all I get for my trouble is to eat what I cooked?"

"How long does it take to cook stew?" Darius asked.

"A couple of hours. About a half hour to cut stuff up and brown the meat, and about an hour and a half cooking time, why?"

"I can give you total access to my ass the whole time the stew's cooking. You can even fuck me on the dining room table, just like you wanted."

"What??!! I've already had a whole week's access to any part of your body I wanted. I'm shocked to say that we've had so much sex that I'm not even horny today. You're gonna have to do better."

"God, I'm just a poor high school kid, Jaime, my body parts are all I have to offer," Darius pleaded sarcastically.

"Ew, that sounds gross. I'm not running an organ harvesting ring. When I said I wanted your heart, I didn't mean it literally."

Darius laughed. "OK, I'll think of something, but maybe not for tonight."

"Acceptable. At least I know the food will be good tonight."

We headed to the supermarket to pick up the ingredients, stopping, as always, in the International Foods aisle for a kiss. Then we grabbed an apple pie for dessert.

Checking the flight status, we were pleased to see that it was scheduled to arrive a couple of minutes early. By the time Darius took off for the airport at 6:00 PM, everything was prepped. The table was set. I cooked some saffron rice to go with the stew. At 7:00, he texted me that they had their luggage and were on their way.

When they walked in at 7:35, everything was ready.

"Jaime, this was so nice of you," Yasmin said.

"We were just going to order Chinese on the way home, but Darius told us not to because dinner was waiting," Javid added.

"This was fun. How was the trip?" I asked.

"Very productive. We have something we want to talk to you both about," Yasmin said, "but let's sit down and eat first."

"We're starving," Ari added. "Stale pretzels were all we got on the plane. It smells amazing, Jaime."

Everyone helped themselves and took a seat.

"After the last dinner we had together," Yasmin began, "Javid and I sat down and came to realize that you kids have grown into amazing, smart, mature individuals who deserve a say in what the family does. And yes, we're still moving, but Darius, what you said about your grandparents struck a nerve. You should never have to pretend to be someone different just to please someone else, including your grandparents. So, when we were in L.A., we sat my folks down and told them. They were shocked, I have to say, but then my dad of all people grabbed my mom's hand and said, `Yasmin, we've been here in the US for a long time now. Our opinions have evolved a bit. Some things are still hard for us, but what we do know is that we couldn't love Darius any more than we do. We are so proud of him. And we never want him to feel that we're not. We'll try our hardest, even though I'm sure we'll say something stupid at some point. He should never feel like he has to hide things from us. OK?' And that was that."

Darius was trying to hold it together, but not doing a very good job.

"Oh, pull yourself together," Ariana said. "Your boyfriend cooked a hell of a meal. Don't ruin it."

Darius sniffed, smiled, stood up, and hugged his mom, his dad, his sister, and finally me. Then we talked about everything that we'd done that week (conveniently leaving an orgy out of the story).

***

On Tuesday, two weeks later, after I'd finished gymnastics practice, I waited for Asher outside school. His show was in dress rehearsals by then and opening night was scheduled for Friday.

Asher's rehearsal was supposed to be done at around the same time as my practice, but he seemed to be running late. I texted him and received no reply. After about fifteen minutes, he came out with a big, shit-eating grin on his face.

"Don't you look smug? What's going on?"

"I don't know what `smug' means, but I do know how good it feels to get back at an asshole who's been bothering you," he replied.

"What are you talking about?"

"That kid Jacob with the last name I can't pronounce who's been giving me shit this whole time, well, I'd had it with him. Today, he kept telling me that my singing was off-key. Well, he has this prop baseball bat that he uses in one of his scenes, so, I borrowed one of your bottles of lube this morning and slicked up his bat. He went to swing the bat and it flew out into the audience and almost took out the director. Jacob just about shit himself. After rehearsal, I pulled him aside and said, `Listen, you self-centered asshole, I can give it just as good as I can take it. You say one more thing to me about my singing, which I know is amazing, or my acting, and you better just watch out on opening night, because you're going to look like a total idiot in front of the whole audience. I promise you. Just fucking grow up and move on. I may be two years younger than you, but I've had to put up with a lot more shit than you and will figure out a way to make your life hell. OK?' And you know what he did? He apologized and said I was right and that he would stop. He said he was just disappointed that he didn't get the lead, but he knew what he had done sucked, and he was sorry. Can you believe it?"

I just stood there with my jaw hanging open for a few seconds. "Asher, you're fucking amazing! I was ready to bring in the army to put that kid in his place, but you did it all by yourself. I can't wait for this weekend to see the show."

"Me neither. Jaime, this has been an incredible experience. I've loved it, but I'm so tired. Keeping up with all my schoolwork, my tutoring stuff and the musical is just exhausting. I'll be happy when it's over, and I'm sure you will be, too. Thanks for pushing me."

***

On Friday, the first night of the show, Asher had requested a light, early dinner so that he could make it back to school by 6:00 PM. The curtain went up at 7:30.

"I made it!" Dad exclaimed as he threw open the front door. "And not a second too soon. Our flight was delayed an hour out of Heathrow and there was a long line at immigration at O'Hare. Fortunately, the traffic wasn't too bad coming home."

Dad looked exhausted but claimed he'd taken a quick nap on the flight.

"I wouldn't miss Asher's world premiere on the finest theater stage in the Midwest for anything, you know."

"I wouldn't go that far," Asher said as he hugged Dad, "but I'm really happy with the show. Everyone's worked so hard, even the kids who paint the sets and do the lighting and stuff. I'm really glad you're home, Dad. We've missed you a lot."

Then I said, "As you requested, Asher, just a light supper. We've got Spaghetti al Limone with Asparagus and an arugula salad with shaved Parmigiano Reggiano."

As we ate, Dad filled us in on the details of his trip--so much work, so little sleep. As I've grown up, I've come to appreciate how hard my parents work. When you're a little kid, you just see them go out the door, and then come back home without thinking about the effort they put into their jobs. It doesn't matter what your parents do for a living, because their end goal is to provide for their families. My parents have worked very, very hard to make my life pretty easy. I've never lacked anything that I needed and I've gotten nearly everything that I wanted unless it was just a silly waste of money. I recognize that now.

At 5:45, we hugged Asher, told him to break a leg, and he headed back to school.

We met up with the rest of our family in the school's auditorium about fifteen minutes before curtain; twelve members of his adoptive family were there to support my new brother. I spotted Eddie and his whole family, Brandon and his, and even Tyler and his family, who weren't huge theater fans. Student ushers led us to our seats and handed out the programs.

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and was shocked to see Darius there with his family. He had told me that he had had a family commitment that he couldn't get out of.

"You big liar!" I laughed.

"Yeah, this was the family commitment I couldn't get out of. Everyone's here to see Asher."

I thumbed through the program, seeing the usual local sponsors' ads, including He-Brew and the hardware and convenience stores just across the street. Then I arrived at the actors' bios. Asher's was first:

Asher Gold (Evan Hansen): This is Asher's first role as an actor. Last year, he was thrown out by his birth family because of his sexual orientation. Asher wound up in the foster care system. When Evanston West's Gay-Straight-Alliance volunteered to cook dinner at Chicago's Rainbow Center, Asher met people who opened a new world for him. He owes his life to Mr. Lincoln Choi, to the entire Fine-Cruz family, and especially to his new brother, Jaime, who has been the best role model a kid could ever ask for. When not acting and singing, Asher enjoys math, cooking, and playing video games. He wishes to dedicate this performance to his new great-grandma, Esther Fine, a Holocaust survivor. She's living proof that you can survive the worst and not let it turn you bitter.

Crap, the curtain hadn't even risen yet and I was already crying. I looked up and Mom had pulled out the tissues and was dabbing her eyes. She passed the packet down the aisle for the rest of the family.

At 7:35, the music came up and the curtain rose, revealing a simple, but nicely executed set. Six cast members sang "Anybody Have a Map," with Asher showing great restraint, considering how he'd belted out songs at home. He blended in nicely with the cast.

Jacob Szyszka, the kid who'd been tormenting Asher, had been cast as Larry Murphy, the father of Connor Murphy, the kid who...sorry, I don't want to spoil it. Anyhow, Jacob had a really nice voice, too, but looked more mature and it made sense to cast a younger kid as Evan and Jacob as the dad.

The second song, "Waving Through a Window," was Asher's first solo. His voice resonated through the auditorium and he showed just the right amount of vulnerability and awkwardness. Evan's social phobias and miserably low self-esteem were laid bare.

In the song, Evan began the lie that formed the basis of the show's story. He recounted a fictitious afternoon supposedly spent with Connor Murphy. About two-thirds of the way through the song, Asher hit a note that was so perfect, so stunning, that as I looked around the audience, I saw a few people's mouths hanging open and people turning to one another in awe.

The first act continued smoothly. I only noticed one slightly late lighting cue. There wasn't a single weak performance in the cast. It was obvious that this bunch had worked their asses off to make this show amazing.

The first act wrapped up beautifully with the cast singing "You Will Be Found." My family decided to stay put in their seats during the intermission, rather than head out to the lobby. Both sets of grandparents relished a chance to catch up with each other, and Esther had enough issues with getting around that an extra trip was more trouble than it was worth.

I headed out to meet up with my usual gang and get some "Evanston West presents `Dear Evan Hansen'" swag. I figured that Asher would probably like something to remember it by. As I walked over to the table to buy a couple of t-shirts and a mug, I overheard a few groups talking in glowing terms about Asher's performance. I spotted Bentley and another kid in makeup and feathered boas. Bentley said, "Oh, God, Jacob is so basic compared to Asher. Asher just hits different." I couldn't help but smile.

I found Eddie, Tyler, Brandon, and Darius standing off to one side of the lobby.

"Thanks for being here, guys. I know Asher will be stoked to hear that you all showed up for him," I said.

"Dude, you know I'm not a huge fan of musicals," Tyler began. "Just not my thing. But that kid is amazing. I can't wait to see what happens. No spoilers, OK?"

"OK, Mr. Culture," Eddie replied.

"I think they're doing `Mamma Mia' at my school," Darius added. "Not too original. Like every high school does that show."

"Brandon, you're being very quiet," I said.

"I was just thinking that I'm gonna be helping the Evan Hansen's of the world someday. That's what I want to do. That kid is just so fucked up."

"Thank you, Dr. Grimes," Darius laughed.

When the lights flashed, we each headed back to our respective family groups to take in the second act.

It began with "To Break in a Glove," a duo between Evan Hansen and Larry Murphy (Asher and Jacob Szyszka). If there was any remaining tension between these two, you couldn't tell, and when Jacob picked up the baseball bat and swung it as part of the business at the beginning of the scene, it stayed firmly in his hands. As the audience applauded at the end of the number, I swear I saw Asher winking at Jacob.

As the act played out, Evan became increasingly desperate to cover up his lies, until his house of cards came crashing down around him. Next, he sang "Words Fail" to apologize for the agony that he had put the Murphys through. The audience was dead quiet and a ton of people were recording. As Asher opened his mouth to sing the first few notes, the character's angst and shame were evident, he was struggling to get the words out. As he continued and the song reached its crescendo, there were audible sobs from the audience. I turned around and saw that Brandon was a blubbering mess a couple of rows behind me. The tears were streaming down my cheeks, too. Dad was sobbing. To say that Asher's rendition of the song was extraordinary would not do it justice. Even Tyler would later admit that he had to keep his jaw clenched and think about our last orgy to keep from losing it.

As the final scene in the apple orchard took place (thanks to a few fake apple tree props and flats painted with rows of apple trees), the audience heaved a collective sigh. The highs and lows of this show had been alternately exhilarating and excruciating. The teacher who directed it had done a masterful job.

The cast began to emerge for their curtain calls as the applause from the audience continued unabated. When Asher finally took his bow, the audience rose to its feet and cheered. It was clear that he was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love.

Once the cast took its final bow, Jacob Szyszka, the kid whose jealousy had gotten the best of him, broke ranks and walked over to Asher to hug him, followed by the rest of the cast.

As most of the audience filed out of the auditorium and onto the sidewalk outside, our family group gathered close to the room where the cast members were getting changed. While it was close to ten o'clock, even Great-Grandma Esther seemed to have been energized by the show. Asher emerged smiling radiantly about twenty minutes later.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

Each of the relatives, including yours truly, voiced his or her opinion, all of which gushed with praise over Asher's amazing performance. Great-Grandma was last to speak.

"Asher, you are truly a star," she began. "You made each of us feel Evan's pain and desperation as deeply as if we were him. And your voice is a treasure. I'm so honored that you've dedicated your performance to me. Ikh bin azoy shtolts fun dir, meyn zun." (I'm so proud of you, my son).

Asher burst into tears and hugged the poor woman so tightly, I thought she'd break in two.

We said our goodnights and goodbyes to our extended family. Then Mom, Dad, Asher, and I walked the short distance home.

Asher went straight to bed exhausted, knowing that he had another performance ahead of him the following night. He needed to rest up as best as he could so that he could make it through the all-night cast party after that show.

He arrived home at 5:30 AM on Sunday, after another amazing performance and the party. I'd asked him to come upstairs to let me know that he'd gotten home safely. I felt his presence as he sat on the bed and I opened my eyes, barely able to make out his silhouette in the near darkness.

He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "You made all this happen for me. I love you so much, Jaime Fine-Cruz."

Then he stood up and headed downstairs.

***

As Asher and I walked into school on Monday, several people gave him a high-five and others called out their praise for him.

"You're a legend, dude," said an obvious jock, not your musical theater type at all, who walked up to Asher and gave him a fist bump. "I'm glad my girlfriend forced me to go. It was definitely worth it later," he winked.

Asher and I said goodbye and hugged each other, then headed off to our respective homerooms.

"Good morning, students, faculty, and staff," said the Wannabe Voiceover Guy, "just a reminder to you seniors that you need to register online for the senior prom, which is scheduled for May 2 at Navy Pier. It's only open to Evanston West seniors, so if you're in an inappropriate relationship with an underclassman, you're SOL for a date. And if you're dating someone from... (exaggerated gasp) ...another school, well, you're a traitor and shouldn't be allowed to go anyway.

"Oh, and, what's the word that theater geeks use? `Kudos?' Kudos to the entire cast of `Dear Evan Hansen' for an amazing show this past weekend. Two completely sold-out performances. I went just to make my girlfriend happy, and I have to say, it was spectacular. A special shout out to the kid himself, Asher Gold, who had the starring role. His performance as creepy, weird stalker and liar Evan Hansen had everyone sobbing...but in a good way.

"By the way, Asher is the brother of your favorite baker and mine, Jaime Fine-Cruz. Don't ask. It's complicated."

Wow, even guys who'd only gone to the show to get into their girlfriends' pants realized what a talent Asher was.

An hour and a half later, in Mr. Choi's chemistry class, I got a text:

DAD: Meet me in front of school now. Get Asher. I've already phoned the school. I'll explain when I see you

By the time I'd raised my hand to alert Lincoln, Principal Pappas was standing in the doorway with Asher in tow. She leaned in and whispered something into Lincoln's ear. He nodded and motioned for me to follow.

"Jaime, what's going on? You think that maybe someone wants to talk to me about the show?"

Dad was standing right outside the front door to Evanston West. I could see Mom in his car parked at the end of the walkway that leads to the school. His expression immediately communicated that this was not something fun.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Dad hugged us both.

"Great-Grandma Esther died this morning. She passed away in her sleep."

My blood ran cold and I instantly broke into a sweat standing there in shock.

"Oh, no! Oh, no! I killed her," Asher wailed. "The show was too much for her. This is all my fault!"

He fell to his knees sobbing. Dad and I gently lifted him up and led him to the car. We headed down to Hyde Park to be with my grandparents.

"What happened?" I ask.

"She was almost ninety-four, Jaime," Mom said. "You've seen her getting more and more frail these past few years. If you're going to die, then passing away in your sleep, without suffering, at a ripe old age, is a blessing."

Asher continued to sob next to me. I grabbed his hand and held it tight. He leaned over and cried on my shoulder.

"It's not fair," he said, choking on the words, "I only just got to know her. You don't understand. I need her. She speaks Yiddish. I don't have to think about my words when I talk to her. She was the only person left linking me to my old life. And now she's gone!" he wailed.

I always knew that Asher and Great-Grandma Esther had had a special connection, but I never realized how important it had been to him. As sad as we were at losing our beloved family matron, Asher's misery was deeper and soul-crushing for him.

We arrived at my grandparents' house to find Uncle Noah and Jermaine already there.

Mama Bernice welcomed us in, each with a hug. I'd rarely seen Mama Bernice looking sad. She was always a ray of sunshine. But at that moment, I could feel the energy had been drained from her.

Mama Bernice and Great-Grandma Esther didn't have the perfect relationship. What woman and her mother-in-law do? But theirs was pretty close. When people told Grandpa David that his relationship with an African-American woman was unacceptable, not only because she wasn't white, but because she wasn't Jewish, Great-Grandma told everyone to go to hell and that it was none of their business. She was the staunchest defender of her daughter-in-law and even joked about finally having a doctor in the family.

Mama Bernice, who had taken plenty of abuse from her side of the family as well for marrying a white man, was forever appreciative of her mother-in-law's support. She never gave it a second thought when, at age eighty-five, Esther needed to move in with them or face her last years in assisted living.

Uncle Noah was talking to Grandpa David when we walked into the house.

Asher ran over and grabbed Grandpa David in a hug and didn't want to let go. He started crying again.

"She loved you so much, Asher," David began, "I think that welcoming you into the family gave her a reason to keep living...until she just couldn't anymore."

"The funeral is tomorrow, right? She'll be buried next to Great-Grandpa Morty?" Asher asked, clearly concerned.

"The service is tomorrow, but, no, Asher, she's going to be cremated, just like my dad was. They didn't want to be buried."

Asher's eyes went wide in shock. "Oh, no, no, no!!! Jewish people can't be cremated. We have to be buried. It says so in the Torah. To destroy a body is forbidden." Asher gasped and sobbed, "And if she's gone, where will I go to talk to her? Please!!"

"She was very clear in her wishes, Asher," David said, trying not to upset Asher any more than he already was.

"Can they wait until after her funeral service? Can I please say goodbye, please?"

"Yes, it's not done until after the service. Asher, would you like to lead the mourner's kaddish at the funeral tomorrow? Would that make you feel better?"

"You would let me do that? But the rabbi usually does that."

"Is there any law against you doing it?" David asked.

"I don't think so," Asher replied, sniffling.

"Then I would be honored to have you do it and I know my mom would be thrilled. You are a part of our family now."

"Would it be OK if I spent the night here? Maybe you can tell me stories about Alte Bubbe?"

"Asher, I think it would be easier for my folks if you slept at home tonight. I'm sure they have a lot on their minds," Dad said. "We'll come back tomorrow morning for the funeral."

"Asher, you can stay if you like. Jaime, too," Mama Bernice said, "It's OK. We have plenty of room. We're happy to have our grandkids around."

"We can bring a change of clothes for you tomorrow, OK?" Mom said.

"Asher," I began, "maybe we can cook dinner and make one of Great-Grandma's favorite meals. Would you be up for helping me cook?"

Asher sniffed and nodded.

"Esther loved brisket," Mama Bernice said. "She didn't care if it was a traditional Jewish pot roast or smoked, Southern style, served with barbecue sauce."

"And latkes," Grandpa David added. "When I was a kid, it didn't matter if it was Hanukkah or any other time of year. She'd make us latkes. My sister and I loved them."

"Is your sister coming," Asher asked. "I've never met her."

"She's flying in this afternoon. She and my mom had kind of a tense relationship. Betsy and her weren't that close, to be honest. Betsy was always kind of a wild kid. She moved out to New York when she was eighteen and never moved back to Chicago. She's been living in Florida for the last ten years or so. Never married. Never had kids."

"I've only met her a handful of times," I added.

"I think it's just going to be five of us here tonight then," Grandpa David said. "Betsy is staying here."

He handed me a $100 bill and his car keys and pointed me in the direction of the closest decent supermarket. Asher and I walked out to Grandpa's car just as Abuela Zyanya and Abuelo José were getting out of theirs to head inside. Zyanya looked like she'd been crying. I'd never seen her cry before. She's a rock. But they'd known Esther for over twenty-five years. My parents had been together for twenty-six and the families had grown close over the years. Both sets of grandparents didn't need the excuse of a dinner at our house to see one another and Esther had frequently tagged along.

Zyanya scooped us up in one of her famous hugs.

"She was an extraordinary woman," Abuela said. "Lived through hell and never let it dampen her spirit. I'll miss her."

"Asher and I are going to stay here tonight. We're going to cook some of Great-Grandma's favorite foods and hear stories about her. We're headed off to the supermarket and will be back in a little while."

By early afternoon, the small crew of family and close friends that had flocked over to lend emotional support had gone, leaving only Asher and me alone with my grandparents. The weight of their loss was finally settling in and they looked exhausted.

"Please, we've got this covered. Why don't you tell us a funny story?" I asked, pulling out a cutting board to chop some onions.

My grandparents pulled up some bar stools and sat by the kitchen island as Asher and I got to work.

"I've got a good one," said Mama Bernice. "When David and I had been dating for a couple of months, he finally decided to tell his parents. If I remember correctly, he had only told them he was dating a doctor. Well, it was the 1970s, only a few years after Stonewall, and Esther assumed that David had come out of the closet because she only thought of doctors as male. Things were different back then, but even Esther, who didn't have a prejudiced bone in her body, was trying to get used to the idea of her only son being gay. You can imagine her shock when I showed up and knocked on the door. She looked me up and down, grabbed my hand, and said, `Oh, my God, you're a woman! Come right in.'"

Then it was Grandpa's turn. "A couple of years after my dad died, I asked my mom if she would ever consider getting a boyfriend. She took a second to reply and said, `I'm way too much woman for a man my age to handle. I'd be calling the funeral home before we ever got to round two. Besides, your father was hung like a horse and I doubt any man could fill the void he left behind.'"

"You know, Esther did a lot of charity work, too," added Mama Bernice. "When she was younger, she always volunteered to cook at homeless shelters. She never cared about anyone's background. She just knew what it had been like to be cold and hungry and she was determined never to let anyone feel that way."

Asher smiled for the first time all day. "When I first met all of you back at Thanksgiving, she made a special point to reach out to me. She felt kind of familiar to me, like the grandma I never knew I had. To be honest, her Yiddish was kinda meh, but she made the effort because she knew I was lost and really wanted to hear something familiar. She was so nice to me. She didn't even know me then, but she made me feel like I was one of her own. I'll never forget that."

My grandaunt, Betsy, arrived a little after 5:00 PM. I probably hadn't seen her in five years. Betsy hadn't changed. She was as if you'd taken a picture of a hippy from 1969 and put it through one of those filters from social media to age them fifty years. Long, gray hair tied with a bandana, a puffy blouse, bell-bottom jeans, and love beads.

She walked in and hugged her sister-in-law, then her brother, barely exchanging a word. Then she turned to me.

"Oh, my God. Jay-me? You must be what? Fourteen?"

"Hi, Aunt Betsy. It's Hi-may. No, I'm graduating from high school this year. I know, I look younger, but trust me, I have my driver's license and everything."

"Do I know you?" She said, turning to Asher.

"Betsy, this is Asher. Nayeli and Barry have adopted him. He's Jaime's brother now," David said.

"That's funny. He looks kind of like David did when he was a teen. Asher, you look more like a family member than Jaime does."

Ugh, that woman really rubbed me the wrong way.

"Asher was thrown out of his ultra-orthodox family for being gay. He needed a new family and it's been great to have him as my brother."

"David and Bernice always wanted more grandkids. I don't know why Barry and your mom only had one, especially since Noah wasn't much help in that department. What time is the service tomorrow?"

"Ten o'clock," David replied, through gritted teeth.

"Perfect. My flight's at 2:00 PM. I'm flying out of Midway. I can get back home before `Wheel of Fortune.'"

"Jaime and Asher have made brisket and potato pancakes for dinner, in honor of your mother," Bernice said.

"Really? That's so nice of you boys. I don't eat red meat, but if those latkes are half as good as my mom's were, I'll be fine."

"We're also making Brussels sprouts," Asher added.

"Hated them growing up. My mom used to force me to eat them. I think I was forty before I could look at one without suffering from post-traumatic stress. That shrink helped. But I'm good now. Love Brussels sprouts."

After the adults had had quite a few drinks, Asher and I served everyone dinner.

"Esther would be so proud of you boys. This is absolutely delicious," Bernice cooed.

"I know she would have asked for seconds. The brisket is tender and soooo tasty," David said.

"You done good, kids," Betsy conceded. "These latkes are as good as I remember my mom's being. I hope you've got more."

After cleaning up the kitchen, listening to lots of stories about Esther, and talking about our own plans for the future, Mama Bernice gave us each a toothbrush, and Asher and I went upstairs to bed. We were both exhausted and fell asleep within minutes.

I woke up a little after 7:00 AM to find Asher still asleep. I checked my phone and saw a text from Dad saying that he and Mom would arrive at around 8:00 and were bringing our clothes and other important stuff. You know your parents love you when they know you can't go out without using your hair products.

But there was a little problem to deal with first. Actually, it's a big problem. Asher had never seen me naked. I'd slept in my underwear for modesty's sake even though I usually sleep naked. And even though he'd been warned, I didn't want to freak him out after a traumatic day. The issue was that there was no way to contain my morning wood inside a pair of boxer briefs. It was already poking way out of the top and I needed to pee. Maybe I could slide out slowly from between the covers and slip on my jeans and t-shirt...

"Good morning," Asher said, forcing a weak smile. "Did you sleep OK?"

"Yeah, I was exhausted. Yesterday was awful." Crap. No getting around this now.

"Asher, I've really gotta take a leak. We can handle this in one of two ways. Either you turn the other way while I slip on my jeans or I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Without hesitation, Asher whipped back the covers to show his cock poking out of the top of his underwear. Long and thick, with a big mushroom head. He slid down his underwear to reveal a nice set of balls underneath, too.

"Impressive," I said.

"OK, your turn," he smirked.

I duplicated his dramatic reveal and his eyes went wide. And then he burst out laughing.

"Well, I can't say you didn't warn me. I'm surprised there was enough space for the three of us in bed last night. OK, go pee. Curiosity satisfied. I'll be prepared the next time I accidentally walk in on you naked."

Mom and Dad showed up just after 8:00 and surprised me by bringing Darius. So that was the "important stuff" Dad had texted about. Fortunately, Dad had also brought my deodorant and hair stuff.

"I'm really sorry I couldn't come yesterday," Darius said. "Great-Grandma Esther wasn't a relative of mine, so they'd only let me out of school for the funeral."

Mama Bernice and Grandpa David were already getting breakfast ready.

"We wanted to make something special in honor of my mom, so we've made waffles. They were her favorite. You can pick from a bunch of different toppings," David said.

Then Betsy walked in. She was dressed in this baggy dress I think they call a kaftan. The colors were kind of bright to wear to a funeral, but I'm no expert.

"Barry, so nice to see you and Nelly again." She leaned in for a brief air kiss.

"Hello, Aunt Betsy. It's Nayeli, by the way," Dad replied coolly.

"And who's this handsome young man? Don't tell me you have a third son I knew nothing about, Barry."

"That's my boyfriend, Darius," I volunteered.

"Oh, God, you're gay too, Jay-me? This family is positively crawling with gays. Speaking of which, where's your brother the doctor, Barry?"

"I suspect he and his husband Jermaine will be along shortly," Dad said.

"You know, I tried sleeping with a girl once," Betsy began, "but when push came to shove, she had nothing to push or shove. So disappointing. Anyhow, these days, I'm dating a younger man. He's a never-married forty-something with a cougar complex. My astrologist says we're perfect for each other."

Believe me, Betsy is closer to being a lazy house cat than a cougar.

After breakfast, Asher and I ran upstairs to shower and get dressed.

We arrived at the funeral home at 9:45 to see that quite a few people were already there. Mama Bernice's two brothers and their wives, a few friends of my grandparents, and one elderly woman who introduced herself as a friend of Esther. I guess Great-Grandma had been right, if you live into your nineties, you've already outlived most of your friends. That's so sad.

At 10:00 AM, I was surprised to see Eddie, Tyler, and Brandon walk in. They had brought along Reggie, Ozzie, and Braden. It made me remember that a real friend is there when life is tough, not just when you're up for fun.

The funeral began at 10:10 as the rabbi walked up to the lectern.

"I'd like to welcome all of you to bid farewell to a beloved mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and survivor of the shoah, Esther Fine."

"Jaime, who is that woman?" Asher asked.

"That's the rabbi," I responded.

"What?? You can have women as rabbis? This really is another planet."

"Esther was never the most devout member of our reform congregation. Let's just say that her heart lay most closely in the volunteer work she did. Well into her eighties, she volunteered to help cook to feed the homeless and needy whenever we opened the synagogue to that community. Forty years ago, when the synagogue decided to do outreach to the LGBT community to bring meals to people afflicted with HIV/AIDS, she was at the head of the line volunteering.

"Yet, this was a woman who, as a young girl and teenager had lived through the most horrifying of times during Kristallnacht in Nazi Germany and later in a death camp. She lost her whole family. But she never lost her will to live or her spirit. She came to this country in the late 1940's with her late husband, whom she had met right after the war and who had suffered the same fate as she had. She raised a family here. Then had grandchildren and a great-grandchild, and recently became a great-grandmother again when her grandson's family adopted a fifteen-year-old Jewish boy who found himself suddenly in the foster care system.

"When I was a young rabbi and had just started at the synagogue, I asked Esther how she always seemed so upbeat. And in her own, somewhat colorful language, Esther said, `If I'd turned into a mean, bitter, old bitch, then those Nazi bastards would have won. The only way to fight hate is with love. So, I decided to love as much as I could.' And that she did, until the day she died."

The rabbi called on David, Bernice, my dad and Uncle Noah to lend a few words. Each, in turn, talked about what Esther had meant to them. When they were done, the rabbi took to the podium again.

"At this point, I would usually lead the mourner's kaddish, but on this occasion, Esther's newest great-grandson, Asher Gold, will lead us in prayer."

Asher walked slowly to the lectern, fighting back tears.

"This is for my Alte Bubbe Esther. I'm so, so sad that we only had such a short time together, but I will remember her for the rest of my life. She is the reason I'm here today, happy, healthy, and with a family that loves me just the way I am."

Then Asher bowed his head and recited the Hebrew prayer for the dead completely from memory.

When he was finished, he walked over to the simple pine coffin that is traditionally used for Jewish burials, bowed his head, and whispered something to our beloved great-grandma. Then the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as if she had replied.

As he returned to his seat, you could hear a pin drop, not a dry eye to be seen anywhere.