Claire and the boys decided to have breakfast at the cottage. Claire felt they should have some time alone. She wanted to see how the boys would be with her when Steve or Bill weren't around to make them behave. She dreaded that they would return to the way they had been, but she had to find out before they left the farm.

Breakfast began well enough with Claire cooking bacon and eggs. It was one of the few things she could easily prepare and that tasted good when she was finished. She wanted to sit down to a meal with her boys and see if they could have a civilized conversation. At home the boys would grab whatever food was going and either take it to their room or eat in front of the television. They rarely sat down to a meal as a family. That was one of the things Claire wanted to change. She remembered seeing an old "Oprah" show about what a difference it made to family dynamics when the family sat down, ate a meal together and actually talked without any interruptions. She had thought that was nuts at the time, but maybe it wasn't such a foolish idea after all.

John finished up making toast and Claire dished up the bacon and eggs. They were actually working as a team. Claire allowed herself a little smile of satisfaction.

"Peter, would you get the pitcher of orange juice out of the fridge?" Claire said sweetly.

Peter went to the fridge and lifted out the heavy pitcher full of the frozen orange juice that Claire had made up earlier. He struggled to carry it to the table and suddenly with a loud crash the pitcher was in several pieces all over the floor. Orange juice splattered all over Claire's slippered feet.

"Shit!" she reacted. "How could you…?" She was about to ask how Peter could be such a fucking stupid asshole. One look at the boy's crestfallen face and eyes full of tears and she bit off her words. She would not ruin this for them all. "Well," she said softening her voice. "I guess we won't be having orange juice for breakfast. I'll stick our plates in the oven to keep them warm while we clean up this mess. Stay still boys until I can pick up the glass."

"I'm so clumsy," Peter said shaking his head. "I ruined everything."

"No you didn't," Claire said picking up the large pieces of glass. "Pitchers and orange juice can be replaced. I shouldn't have asked you to carry such a heavy thing. Next time maybe John will do it or I will. There," she said finding all the glass she could. "John, there's J-cloths under the sink and Peter, get the mop from the porch."

Both boys willingly helped mop up the juice. Claire wrung out the mop and rags in the sink and soon the kitchen was back to normal. She pulled their plates from the oven and gave them each a glass of water. They all sat down to eat.

They munched in silence until Claire said, "So how bad was it at the farm?"

"Bad at first," John admitted. "But it's really an okay place once you get used to it."

"They have cows and horses and goats and a donkey," Peter offered.

"And we learned to swim … a little bit," John said proudly.

"Sounds like you had a good time after all," Claire conceded. She felt slightly jealous that the boys liked it here so well. She had thought they would be happy to go home with her. "Are you ready to go home?" she had to ask.

The boys looked at each other and then nodded their heads vigorously. Claire let out a breath of relief and smiled at her boys. Sometimes they were good kids.

"Mom," John began, "are you trying to change too?"

"What … what do you mean?"

"We're eating together. We never do that."

"And you didn't yell at me when I dropped the pitcher," Peter added.

"I had a long talk with Steve and Bill. They're very smart men," Claire admitted. The boys nodded in agreement. "I'm going to try to improve things for us all. Do you think you can help me?" One of the things Bill had told her was the importance of having each of them own their part in what was happening.

"I'll try," John said. "I hated all that yelling and fighting."

"Me too," Peter added.

"Me three," Claire said with a chuckle. "Maybe we can make this work. I … I like working with you boys in the kitchen. We should try to have at least one meal a day together. We could sit down like this and talk about what's bothering us or what good things happened during the day. Would you like that?"

"I would," John said. Peter nodded his head.

"Then we'll try."

They finished eating their bacon and eggs. Peter went to the fridge and found a jar of jam for their toast. Claire didn't have to tell him to do it, and he didn't drop it on the way back. She even thanked him for getting it when they slathered it on their toast.

"You know that a bunch of Uncle Brian's friends are coming up this afternoon, don't you?" Claire asked hoping to avoid bad feelings later on.

"A bunch of fags," John said.

"Just like Uncle Brian?" Peter asked.

"And like Uncle John," John added.

"Some of them may be like your uncles but they're all different. All people are different. We need to take them at face value and not make judgments based on prejudice." Claire's eyes opened wide. She couldn't believe she had just spouted those words. The boys looked at her and they all burst out laughing.

After a minute John's face got serious and he asked, "Are we laughing at Uncle John? Because I like him, and he taught us to swim."

"And Justin's helping me to draw," Peter said his mouth full of toast and jam.

Claire studied her boys. "I wasn't laughing at anyone. I was laughing at what I said, because I could hardly believe it was me saying those things. I know I've said awful things about Uncle Brian in the past, and about fags in general. Maybe it's time I rethought those ideas. Uncle Brian arranged for you to come here. He's really trying to help us."

"He's teaching me some of his chess techniques," John said.

"Can you boys try to be nice when we meet his friends?"

"I'll be nice," John said. Peter nodded in agreement.

"Maybe you can play with Gus a little bit," Claire suggested.

"He's a smart kid," Peter said. "Did you hear him explain about Uncle Brian and Justin and about Uncle John and Bobby?"

"He seems to think that love makes everything okay," John said.

"And maybe he's right," Claire said touching John's hand in the first affectionate gesture she had made spontaneously in a long time.

John smiled at her and her heart soared with hope for their future.

When breakfast was finished, Claire and the boys washed the dishes then remopped the floor so that all the sticky juice was gone. Claire Anderson had two homes to care for and they were each pristine. Claire had only one small house and she could barely keep up with it. It was only right that she make sure she left the cottage the same way she found it.

It was close to eleven when everything was done to her satisfaction. Claire sat at the table staring at the phone pondering her next move.

"Mom, what's wrong?" John asked truly concerned.

"I know it's silly but I'm afraid to call the main house."

"Afraid of what?" Peter asked.

"Well, for one thing I have to tell Ms. Anderson about the pitcher."

"But Mommy, I broke that."

"Peter, I'm responsible for you and I should have known better."

"Because I'm so stupid and clumsy, right."

"No, because I made the orange juice and I knew how heavy that pitcher was. It was heavy even before I filled it. I should have never asked you to pick it up. And to be really honest I'm afraid of being yelled at too."

"But Mommy, you're a, a mommy! Who would yell at you?"

"Peter, Grandma Joan wasn't always nice to me and Brian when we were growing up. She yelled at us a lot. Even now she yells at us."

"Mom, Ms. Anderson seems like a really nice lady. I don't think she would yell at you."

"You're right, John. I don't think she would either. Well, here goes everything."

Claire dialed the main house and the elder Claire picked up. Claire explained about the accident and that no one was hurt. She apologized and offered to replace the pitcher.

"Don't worry about the pitcher. It wasn't an heirloom, just something I picked up at the discount store. Besides, pitchers can be replaced, not so little boys. Now have you decided to brave the rest of Brian's family? They should be here at about one. John can come by and pick you all up or if you take the lane in front of the cottage you can be here within 10 minutes. Alright then, I hope to see you soon. Bye."

Claire hung up the phone, turned and faced her sons.

"Huh. I feel like I'm living in the Twilight Zone. People can't be that nice."

"What did she say?" both boys asked.

"She said she was glad that no one got hurt and not to worry about the pitcher. Then she wanted to know if we were coming to the party. Do we want to go? We know some of them. I remember Lindsay from Grandpa's funeral and Michael and his mother."

"Is she the drag queen?" John asked, remembering Debbie from the diner and when he got caught lying about his uncle.

"Yeah, she always looked a little strange to me. I never understood why Brian loved her more than anyone else. I guess maybe she's nice like Ms. Anderson. I don't know who else is going to be there. We could stay here."

"But that would be hiding and I'd really like to go. Maybe Uncle Brian would let us stay in the treehouse. Do you think if we're really nice to him and his friends he'd let us stay up there tonight?"

"I don't know, Peter. We've been so awful to each other, I just don't know."

"Mom, if we stay here, we'll never know. And I want to see if Uncle John will take us to the stream again. It was fun. I really do like Uncle John," John said to his mother and Peter.

Claire looked at her boys and made the decision. "So, I guess we're all in agreement. We'll go now and see if we can help Ms. Anderson and everyone get ready for the party. We'll stay but before any of us says something not nice to any of Brian's friends, we're going to stop and think first. If we have to we'll excuse ourselves and come back here. Deal?"

"Deal!" Claire's boys answered back. They all smiled at one another; this was the first real family decision they had ever made together and it felt good. They packed up extra clothes then headed down the lane to the main house.



******************************************************************



When Claire Anderson had hung up the phone, Brian was there to witness her end of the conversation.

"So I take it there was no loss of life at the cottage," Brian snarked.

"Apparently not, just the loss of a pitcher."

"Peter?" Brian smirked. Claire nodded. "At least the child wasn't hurt."

"That's good. So are they coming over or are they going to hide at the cottage all day?"

"I don't think the decision has been made yet."

"Maybe they should stay there," Brian snorted out but then regretted his comment.

"Brian, that wasn't very kind," Claire admonished.

"I know and I'm sorry. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, that's all. Claire and I have been angry at each other for most of our lives and I don't even know why. I guess I don't know how to be nice."

"Brian, that's not true. You do know how to be nice. Just try to think first before you open your mouth. You'll be okay. Besides, with all the people coming here today, I doubt if you'll be alone with your sister and your nephews."

Brian started to laugh. He was thinking about how many queers were going to be here.

"What's so funny, Daddy?"

"Just thinking about what's going to happen when Aunt Claire meets Auntie Emm, Sonny Boy."

"Oh." Gus liked his Auntie Emm; he always thought he wore the most colorful clothes.

"Can Justin and I go to the stream?"

"Sure, just stay with Justin."

"I will." Gus gave his Daddy a kiss then ran out of the house to Justin who was waiting just outside the porch. "Come on, Buddy, let's see if we can find another frog." Brian scowled as he overheard Justin and Gus giggling.

Brian, with his hands on his hips, looked skyward and sighed. "Will the gods ever save me from little boys and their obsession with frogs?" Claire stifled another laugh.

Claire and her boys got to the house around 11:30 and the whole family was busy preparing for the gathering. John and Bobby were setting out the long tables. John had decided after the July 4th party that getting the tables would be a good investment. Brian was preparing the grill. Claire was seasoning the meat and preparing the vegetables. The younger Claire could not hide her amazement; the elder Claire had everything so well organized.

"Hi there, I'm so glad you decided to join us. And I could use some help with the salad and we'll need more iced tea and lemonade." The elder Claire gave the younger a greeting hug. The younger Claire stiffened for a moment then gingerly returned the hug. Brian watched and observed his sister's expression.

"Claire, get used to that. Later on there'll be a massive hugfest," Brian remarked then turned his attention to the spawn who were still just inside the door. "And why are you two lurking over there? Come in and say good morning to Ms. Anderson."

The boys came in and said good morning.

"Good morning boys. John and Bobby could use some help with the folding chairs. If you do a good job I'm sure John will take you to the stream for a swim before the gang gets here." Claire saw the boys' faces light up and they raced to help their Uncle John with the chairs.

"I still don't know how you all do that. I've never been able to get them to help me with anything. Until this morning, that is."

"Claire, honey, you're off to a good start. This will work out, I know it will." Brian's sister was almost convinced and very hopeful.

"Brian, who's coming?" Claire asked her brother almost fearing the answer.

"Pull up a chair." Brian replied as he plopped his skinny butt in a chair and started to peel the cucumbers Claire slid in front of him. "It's a long list." The younger Claire sat opposite her brother and started peeling the carrots that appeared in front of her. "First, there's Debbie. You remember her, short woman, red wig, loud mouth and her fiancé, Carl. He's the cop so your brats better behave." Brian ignored the look that the two Claires gave him. He shrugged but before he could continue, his sister jumped in.

"You mean Debbie's going to get married?" Claire asked, astonished at the thought.

"Who knows? She won't do it until Mikey's marriage is officially recognized here."

"I don't understand. Michael, isn't he gay; he got married?"

"Michael and his partner got married in Canada last year. You'll like Ben; he's a lot like John. Very smart, he's a college professor and built like a brick shithouse. That man has some set of muscles." Brian's mind wandered off briefly at a memory then quickly returned. "They also have a son, Hunter; he's almost 17. He's a little street urchin that they saved and then adopted. Let's see, who else? There's Ted and Emmett. Theodore is my accountant. He's very good at it but don't tell him I said that. There are enough swelled heads at my agency already. Then there's Emmett or Auntie Em as Gus calls him. He's just your typical out and proud queen. But don't let his fruity exterior fool you. He grew up down south and he's as tough as nails. Jennifer and Molly are coming too. Jennifer is Justin's mother; smart, pretty and very protective of Justin and his sister. That's Molly, cute kid. Oh and Lindsay, you remember her. Tall blond, she's Gus' mom and my best friend, besides Mikey. That's the lot of them. My crazy family."

Brian let things settle into his sister's brain for a while and the three sat quietly peeling, chopping and slicing.

"Brian, can I ask you something about Gus and Lindsay?"

"Yeah."

"You and Lindsay, did you, I mean, how did, shit. I don't know how to ask."

"Let me do it for you. Lindsay and I met in college and we were very close. We even tried the het life for a while but we knew it wouldn't work. We stayed close friends; we love each other. When she and her partner wanted to start a family I made a donation. Nine months later, Gus. That explain it for you?"

"Yes, it does. And Mom doesn't know."

"Not that I know of, unless Jack told her. He found out shortly before he died."

Claire felt the tears well up in her eyes. Her father was a cruel man but he was the only father she had and he was nice to her sometimes. As bad as Jack was he still was her daddy. She couldn't help the tears that started to fall.

Brian was shocked for a moment. All those tears that Claire had shed during the funeral didn't seem real to Brian, just a show put on by his sister. These tears were real. Brian felt them too. For the first time in his life Brian felt love toward his sister. He got up and went to Claire pulling her up from her chair. Brother and sister hung on to each other.

"I'm sorry, Brian."

"Sorry is bullshit. I hated him at times but I miss the bastard too."

Brother and sister hung on and cried together.

The elder Claire left the kitchen to allow for their privacy. She stood guard at the outer door and redirected her son, Bobby and the boys when they tried to go in to get their bathing suits.

"Mother, what's going on?"

"Shh, just a little brother and sister bonding. Go to the stream, Justin and Gus are already there."

"But we don't have our bathing suits."

"Oh, pooh. You're all boys; you all have the same equipment. Go. They need a little time alone."

John rolled his eyes at his mother then nodded. He led the boys to the stream.

Claire sat on the swing and waited for the all-clear.