Loose Ends

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Leaving work had never felt as wonderful as it did that morning. Ivan’s twelve hour shift, which usually flew by in the blink of an eye, had dragged. It had been a long night in which the events of the previous day played out like a video in his memory. Thankfully, it had been the last of his overnights. It would be another four weeks before he had to work the graveyard duty again.

Normally, he didn’t mind. The pediatric ward, generally speaking, remained peaceful. He certainly experienced less chaos when the majority of his little patients were sleeping. On the other hand, he loved his patients. He loved interacting with children, the reason he’d chosen his career in the first place.

Which, of course, was one of the things his mother had reminded him of the day prior over lunch. He’d asked her out after very careful deliberation. Ivan had already told his brother he was gay, and it had come as no surprise. As Ivan had expected, Brandon supported him a hundred percent, and he encouraged his baby bro to bite the bullet and tell their folks.

“Mom’s mom,” he’d said. “Of course she’s gonna overreact. She’s so damned dramatic, but in the end, she’ll always love and accept you.”

But his mother’s unconditional love had never been the issue for Ivan. He knew both his parents would love and accept him no matter what, but he didn’t want to hurt or disappoint either of them. Although he’d never shared their faith, he respected it. He understood they held dearly to their beliefs, and both his mom and dad were very active in their church. Sadly, it happened to be a denomination that condemned homosexuality, labeled it as an “abomination.”

Appearances meant everything to Judy Ramsey. She often quoted a verse from the New Testament about abstaining from all appearance of evil. Not only was it important to her that her two boys always do the right thing, they should also constantly be aware of how their actions appeared to others.

This viewpoint, of course, sharply contrasted that of his brother Brandon, who had the attitude that people should mind their own business. Who gives a f**k what other people think? Ivan wanted to be more like his brother in this regard, but was challenged by the reality that he was a product of his mother’s environment. Ivan did worry about what others thought. He did want people to see him as a good person, not an abomination.

Though he had never bought the religious stuff hook, line, and sinker like his parents, their conservative viewpoints on social issues had influenced him. At a time when society at large had grown more tolerant and inclusive, when gay people could now legally marry, and hundreds of celebrities lived openly, fully out of the closet, Ivan felt smothered by the bubble of his parents’ outdated world view. He’d gotten beyond feeling guilty for his attractions, his masturbatory fantasies, and even his occasional thrilling yet safe hook-ups. It wasn’t a guilty conscience, a presumption that he was doing something evil or immoral, but rather a knot of anxiety and sadness that rested just beneath his sternum. No, his parents wouldn’t hate or disown him for being gay, but they’d certainly think less of him. They’d definitely pray for him and hope with all their hearts that he’d one day see the light and choose a normal, heterosexual lifestyle.

And, of course, this was the precise reaction Ivan’s coming out had evoked from his mother. In hushed tones, leaning over her salad, she pleaded with him to think hard about how much he loved children. “Ivan, I always expected you’d be the one to give me grandchildren. You love kids so much. How are you…?” She sighed and set down her fork. “Honey, you’ve never even seriously dated a woman.”

“Exactly.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Well, how do you know if you like something if you’ve never even tried it?”

“Mother…” He took a sip from his water glass and placed it back on the table. “We’re not talking about hummus. This isn’t a ‘try it, you might like it’ kind of thing. And weren’t you the one who always told me not to try s*x before marriage?”

“I’m not even referring to…” She cleared her throat. “To making love. I mean you just haven’t met the right girl yet.”

He resisted the urge to sigh again and roll his eyes dramatically. “No, I haven’t met the right girl, and that’s because there is no right girl. Mother, I’m not attracted to women. I’m gay, and if there is one thing I can’t stand it’s when a gay guy who knows he’s gay marries a woman in order to try becoming straight. I think it’s about the lowest and most selfish thing a person can do. All he does is hurt other people, including the woman, the children if there are any, and all their family and friends. Eventually, it all comes out. Eventually, he has to face the reality of his own identity, who he is.”

Judy glanced from left to right, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation in a public setting. “You speak of this as a matter of identity, but baby, this is not about who you are. It’s about what you choose to do with your life. You don’t have to be homosexual.”

And you don’t have to be a homophobic b***h. Rather than reply, he dabbed his mouth with his napkin. He should have anticipated this reaction. He should have known better than to take advice from his fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants brother. Mother wasn’t a “live and let live” sort of person like Brandon. Christ, Ivan wasn’t either. And when his mother’s eyes grew moist to the point they began to brim with tears, a sharp blade pierced Ivan’s heart. This was what he hadn’t wanted. This had been his greatest fear.

“Mom, I’m sorry.” He reached across the table to take her hand, but she pulled away.

“Are you?” She looked him in the eyes, her own now glistening with tears.

“I waited to tell you because I didn’t want this. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you or Dad.”

“Oh, you can’t tell your father. You can never tell your father. It will kill him.” Her voice crackled with emotion.

Ivan didn’t buy it, though. He didn’t look forward to coming out to his father, but he also didn’t see the revelation as being too much of a shock to dear ol’ Dad. Yes, he too was religious, just like Mom. But he was so much more reserved, a very private man. He wouldn’t pressure Ivan to keep looking for the right girl. He wouldn’t try to guilt Ivan into complying with his desires for Ivan’s life. But sadly, he too would likely feel sadness and disappointment. That was the hardest aspect of all. Ivan didn’t want to hurt either of them.

“I don’t know when or if I’ll come out to him, but Mom, I’m not asking you to keep this a secret from him. He’s your husband…”

“I’m asking you! Ivan, please, I beg you not to tell him. And please stop saying it like that. Coming out? What does that even mean? Coming out of the loving, protective arms of our Savior to embrace a sinful lifestyle?”

And that was pretty much the last straw. Ivan tossed his napkin onto his plate and shook his head. “I hope, Mother, that’s not what you really believe. I hope you don’t think that God is going to abandon me because of who I am. I hope you don’t truly think that because I’m gay, I no longer am loved and protected by God.” His voice had risen as had her level of discomfort. She squirmed in her chair.

“We don’t have to talk about this here,” she whispered.

“No, we don’t. You’re right.” He motioned for the waiter to bring their check. “I need to go anyway. I should try to get a few hours sleep before my shift tonight.”

After clocking out, Ivan headed to his locker. He couldn’t get the conversation with his mother out of his head. As infuriating as she at times was, he hated leaving things unsettled between them. Though he knew he needed to give her some time, doing so was hard. Accepting his own identity had taken time, and the least he owed her was the deference to process this new reality about her son. He could logically point out that he was the same son she’d always loved, that now she knew a little more about him. In truth, though, his revelation had destroyed the dream she’d had of who he was—the person she thought he was all along. She was going to need some time to grieve the loss of fantasy, the son she thought she had, the dream she had for that son’s life.

As he slipped his spring jacket over his scrubs, he felt the buzz of his cell phone from his pocket. He retrieved it, fearing for an instant it might be his mother calling. He wasn’t sure what he’d even say to her at this point. But when he looked down at his screen, he realized he was being dialed by the nurses’ station he’d just left. Had he f****d up, forgotten something important?

“Hello?”

“Ivan, have you left the hospital yet?” It was Carrie, his coworker.

“No, I just punched out, and I’m at my locker. What’s up?”

“Your brother’s here.”

“Brandon? Oh…okay. Why?”

“He needs to talk to you. In person. Can you come back up here right away?”

“Sure. Be right there.” He ended the call, puzzled, and continued to stare at the screen a moment. Why hadn’t Brandon just called him? Was there something wrong?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Concern and relief battled each other for control of Tucker’s psyche. He’d always thought tonsillectomies were routine outpatient procedures, but Jaydin’s doctor recommended they keep him overnight in the hospital due to his age and history of complications. The decision, she stressed, was merely precautionary. Having his son in the hospital worried Tucker, but on the other hand, he felt relief that the surgery had gone well and that so far he was recovering as expected.

Jaydin woke up thirsty but then complained it hurt to swallow. Annoyed, Tucker immediately asked the nurse about pain medicine. She assured him they would keep him medicated and as pain-free as possible, but that there was almost always some pain after this kind of operation. He had to drink a lot of fluids, and they’d begin giving him soft foods like ice cream and pudding as soon as he was able to tolerate them.

Tucker remained by his boy’s bedside throughout the day, insisting Janelle go get a bite to eat. She brought him back a sandwich mid-afternoon, at which time Tucker finally stepped out and called Viviano.

“We’re waiting on the autopsy, but everything points to homicide. Don’t look like the victim died in the fire. She was already…well, looks like she took a bullet through the skull.”

“Jesus.” Tucker raked his fingers through his hair as he frequently did, and looked down at the sandwich on the picnic table. Pastrami, his favorite. Of course, Janelle knew exactly what he liked. “Any family?”

“Her husband, David, was away on business, and they have two adult sons, Brandon and Ivan. They all have pretty solid alibis.”

“Yeah. We’ll see…” Nine times out of ten these sorts of crimes were committed by immediate family, and usually the motive was money. Tucker would have to delve into every aspect of this woman’s life, including her relationships with every friend or relative, before he could completely eliminate anyone as a suspect. At this point, they all were potential murderers.

“Fire stated in the bedroom. We don’t have a report yet, but I talked to the fire chief. Thinks it was accelerated by gasoline. Christ, you’d think they’d try to be a little more original. Crazy. Like they’re asking to get caught.”

“Or stupid. Any evidence of forced entry?”

“Boss, I gotta wait on the report for that. The fire did so much damage, it’s hard to tell, least by just eyeballing it.”

“I’m gonna check out the scene as soon as I can, probably tomorrow morning. You got everything sealed?”

“Yeah. Tight as a drum. Take care of your kid, all right? How’s the little guy doin?”

Tucker couldn’t help smiling, though he was only on the phone. “He’s a trooper. Keeps waking up to remind me I promised him ice cream.”

“That’s one sweet kid ya got there. Cute, too. Takes after his ma.”

“That he does.”

“Boss, don’t worry. I got this. Take however much time you need for your boy, all right?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Call and try to put a rush on that autopsy.”

Viviano sighed into the phone. “I’m on it, boss. Relax.”

“’kay. Call or text if you find anything out…or if you need anything.”

“Good bye, boss.”

“Later.”

Tucker raised one leg over the picnic table bench and slid to his seat. He picked up the sandwich and sank his teeth into the soft bun. Brandon and Ivan. Ivan? Why’d that sound familiar? Oh, that’s right. That was the name of Jaydin’s nurse from this morning. Not a very common name. What were the odds of two Ivans living in Ironton? Well, if it did happen to be the same person, at least that solidified his alibi.

Of course, even when family was involved, they often didn’t do the dirty work themselves. He’d do some asking around at the hospital to see if this particular Ivan was the same one in question concerning the fire. Certainly the staff would know if their coworker’s mother had died in a fire, especially in a community this size.

It didn’t take long to get his answer. He’d taken only his second bite of his sandwich when a couple of hospital employees emerged from the building and headed toward the outdoor furniture. “Mind if we join you?” The two young women appeared to be orderlies or nurses’ aides perhaps. He smiled and nodded, inviting them to take a seat.

The one who spoke, a redhead, wore her hair pulled back away from her face. She sat next to Tucker and placed her zip-up insulated lunch cooler on the table in front of her. “Did you hear about the fire?” She directed her question to her brunette coworker who’d seated herself across from them. She then turned to Tucker. “One of the nurses here, his mother was killed in the fire.”

“Really? That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, I was just coming in this morning when he got the news,” the brunette said. “Ivan Ramsey. He usually works in pediatrics. His brother had to come here to deliver the news, and Ivan didn’t take it well.”

“I can only imagine.” Tucker looked from one woman to the other. “Do you both know him?”

“Everyone knows Ivan.” The redhead removed a bottle of water from her bag. “He’s the sweetest guy here, but from what I hear, he bats for the other team.”

“Sucks, don’t it?” The brunette said, rolling her eyes. “It’s true what they say. All the good ones are either already married or gay.”

“So Ivan’s gay?” As Tucker spoke, he watched the expressions on their faces. Perhaps they suddenly realized they were revealing very personal information to a complete stranger.

“Well, we don’t know anything,” the redhead said. “Just rumors are all they are. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” She looked directly at Tucker, smiling.

“Tucker Brown. My son’s actually a patient of that nurse. He just had a tonsillectomy.”

“Oh.” The brunette grew very serious. “You’re not…?”

“A bigot?” He raised his eyebrows. “Not in the least. Someone very close to me happens to be gay. What were your names again?”

“I’m Cheryl,” said the brunette. “And this is Brenda. We work in housekeeping, so we’re in and out of almost every department. We hear all the gossip.”

“You don’t seem the type to gossip.” He smiled.

Brenda shook her head. “I’d already heard he took it bad. My cousin works on that floor, and she’s friends with Ivan. She said he had just finally come out to his mother yesterday, and she hadn’t taken it well.”

“Really?” Tucker leaned in.

“His parents were quite religious,” Brenda continued. “Carrie, my cousin, said he had a hard time even making it through his twelve-hour shift. I guess he was really close to his mom, and he was very upset by her reaction.”

“To his coming out?”

“Yeah. Like I said, she was devoutly religious. I don’t think Catholic, but some fundamentalist Protestant church, I think. They don’t like gays too much.”

“Doesn’t that family have money?” Cheryl had unwrapped a sandwich in front of her. “They lived in one of those fancy houses over in the ritzy part of town.”

“His dad owned a hardware chain. Several stores. Sold it a few years back but continued to work. I guess he has a business selling lawn mowers and stuff to other hardware outlets.” Brenda hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d declared herself the queen of gossip. She seemed all-knowing.

“You look so familiar,” she said, leaning back a bit as she examined Tucker. “You work for the police department, don’t you?”

“Yes, actually.” He reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet. He took out two business cards and handed one to each of the women. “I’m Detective Brown, and I’m actually going to be investigating this case. Can you do me a favor? If you hear of anything that you think might be important, can you call me?”

“Investigating? You mean, like a murder or something?” Cheryl stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Well, it’s far too early to say, but every time a person dies or is killed unexpectedly, we have to look at that possibility. All I know right now was that there was a fire.”

Brenda’s cheeks had flushed almost to the color of her hair. “I hope…oh God, I hope I haven’t said anything I shouldn’t. You don’t think it means anything that Ivan and his mother had that fight yesterday, do you?”

Tucker bit his bottom lip as he shrugged. “I couldn’t imagine it would. You don’t think so, do you?”

“No! No, of course not.”