Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta Roots. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta Roots. Mostrar todas las entradas

13 de mayo de 2024

ROOTS 17 Final

 Chapter 17: Eyes Wide Shut

Summary:

Javier looks at him, intrigued. He realizes there's something else Jake hoped he'd understand without words. Is the key supposed to be in the photos? He looks at them again before following his friend through the kitchen, and he doesn't see anything extraordinary: an unconventional family, but do conventional families exist outside fiction?
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Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992), Madam Secretary

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html


University City, San Diego, Thursday, November 12, 2019

 

They continue through the kitchen and onto a large wooden terrace that Bradley, Jake, and Sam cross without stopping to go down to the patio. Like Sarah said, there's a icebox refrigerator just to the right of the back door. Phoenix, Payback, and Omaha leave their beer contributions there. This serves as an excuse for the entire squad to stand with their hands resting on the veranda and admire the massive courtyard of the Kazansky-Mitchell residence.

The perimeter is surrounded by tall fruit trees and shrubs with evergreen foliage that isolate them from prying eyes. Almost at the back is a lit grill, from which comes the delicious smell of meat cooking on charcoal. In the center is a long table covered with platters of food of various styles and origins: guacamole, tortillas, toast, potato salad, rice, macaroni and cheese, pico de gallo, cheese squares, and other things in small portions. Also, several jugs of drinks of different colors, water, and a couple of bottles of red wine. At each end of the table is a stack of plates, cutlery, and napkins.

The rest of the patio is occupied by six sofas facing the buffet table. They are spacious; each comfortably fits five or six people. In front of each couch are small coffee tables for food and drinks.

There are a dozen people between the grill and the sofas. They know some of them.

Rooster went to sit next to Sarah Kazansky. She extends an arm to hug his side while chatting with a couple. The group does not know Cougar and his wife Vivian, but Natasha's trained eyes do realize that they are rich people by the quality of their clothes.

Samantha Kazansky goes to the grill, where Sean and a petite woman with indigenous features cook meat and sausages. Seeing the familiarity with which she puts her arms around the unknown woman's waist and rests her chin on her shoulder, Yale feels his heart break a little.

Jake heads to another couch, where Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell talk with another legendary Navy figure: Commander "Merlin" Wells and a woman who must be his partner from how their hands are clasped. To the surprise of his colleagues, Jake does not sit on the couch end, next to his father. Without saying a word, Maverick and Iceman make space between them. Jake sits down. The admiral turns his head to look at him tenderly and says something that the squad cannot hear, but it makes the blonde swell with pride.

"That is…?"

"Yeah."

"Did Hangman just…?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know if I can survive this."

"I need a beer."

"I something a little stronger."

Yes, they definitely need alcohol to deal with this because… What did the captain invite them to? They never imagined being in a situation like this, so the phrase “a dream come true” does not apply either.

Mitchell turns to watch his squad join the meeting. He sees them frozen on the terrace veranda, to his surprise and concern.

"I think we fried their brains, Ice."

The admiral does not need to turn his head to know what his husband is talking about.

"Take care of it," he says, pulling Jake tighter against his torso. "After all, they are your aviators."

Merlin makes a mocking sound, and Madelaine -his second wife- giggles. It's true: Pete has been praising the merits of his squad in the half hour they've been talking.

Iceman continues his conversation with the couple while putting one arm over his son's shoulders and massaging his skull. Jake rests his head on his dad's shoulder and squints, enjoying the physical contact. Maverick makes a slight, disgruntled noise but gets up and walks towards the stairs to the terrace.

In the eyes of his Daggers, Maverick looks heroic in those worn jeans and the white T-shirt where his abs are visible (absolutely unacceptable for a man of almost sixty years old) as he does in full uniform.

Damn, Payback thinks, I want to reach his age with half that style.

"So you're here."

"Thank you for inviting us, captain."

Pete nods and smiles at Bob.

"To be honest, it was not my idea. We don't usually celebrate Thanksgiving," the group raises their eyebrows in surprise as one. "Sarah is of Siuox origin. Jake's mother was, too. For indigenous people, there is nothing to celebrate about the arrival of the Mayflower. But Ice," he points to the couch, where the commander of the US Pacific Fleet has Jake in his arms, "said he wanted to meet you in person. We thought it would be a good opportunity. We also invited some friends. Please don't stay there. Go down and settle in one of the sofas. Phoenix, Bob?"

The couple immediately stands firm.

"Yes, sir?"

"Just Mav, please. Wolfman and Hollywood want to talk to you about your stunt on the first training day."

Natasha and Bob exchange shocked looks. Wolfman and Hollywood? The legendary aviators who are now legendary stars of aerobatic shows?

"With us?" he croaks, nervous.

"Yeah, they haven't arrived yet. They went to get some kind of tacos at a super specific place in San Diego. I don't know too much about it," he shrugs. "But I'm telling you. Eat now because when those two catch you, they won't let you rest from asking questions."

The pilot and her SWO take the steps to the patio like someone on a sacred mission.

Pete turns to the rest of the group with a slightly embarrassed expression.

"I hope seeing Sean in charge of the grill doesn't worry you too much. I promise he knows what he's doing. His only talent is not doing dramatic scenes at funerals."

"Uncle Mav!," a female voice interrupts behind the group. "You will never learn how to break the ice gently."

When they turn around, they see an African-American man with white hair. His left hand rests on a cane, and the other is on a woman's shoulder. She is in her twenties.

"Hello," she says "I'm Elsa Williams, this is my father, Marcus."

"Vice Admiral Williams, sir!" they say at once and salute.

Maverick can barely contain his laughter. Elsa rolls her eyes. Marcus momentarily steps away from his daughter's shoulder to give them an informal salute.

"Sundown is fine for today, lieutenants," he says. Then he fixes his lively eyes on María Celeste. "Mav, is this her?"

"Yes, meet the engineer María Celeste Machado."

Marcus holds out his hand, smiling.

"I have wanted to meet you for a long time, ma'am. I see there's still room. Would you please sit with my daughter and me?"

Javier and María Celeste cannot hide their astonishment, but they follow Williams as he slowly descends the steps and heads to the nearest sofa.

"Uh, that one doesn't stitch without thread," Maverick comments.

He looks at the rest of the group with an amused expression.

"Feel free to eat and talk."

And he returns to sit next to Jake.

Yale stuffs his hands in his back pants pockets and looks at the yard, unsure. Samantha Kazansky is there, so far away and so close at the same time…

Finally, Billy's voice brings him out of his gloomy reflections.

"Guacamole and whiskey?" he proposes.

"Yes, please," Halo begs.

The six troop down to the buffet table.

After getting generous portions of all kinds of hors d'oeuvres (who said you can't eat dumplings with red sauce?) they go to one of the two still empty sofas. Yale takes great care to appear to sit in the spot closest to her purely by chance. He's only interested in the end of the couch because he's from Florida and is closer to the only heat source on the patio: the grill.

Sean Kazansky ignores them, but his sister is much kinder and moves away from the petite woman to face them.

"Do you already know Bradley and Jake's squad, misún?"

He grunts and shrugs. Sam rolls her eyes, exasperated.

"Lieutenants Fitch, García, Vikander, Bassett, Avalone, and Lee meet my brother, Second Lieutenant Sean Kazansky." Then she pulls the woman's hand to make her move away from the grill for a moment and looks directly at Yale. "This is my girlfriend, Elia Eagle Bear."

Logan brings the glass of whiskey to his lips and closes his eyes. He feels exposed like he has an open wound, and someone was touching it with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. He's only met her twice. Are his feelings so pathetically obvious?

While the rest of the group tries to be less conspicuous by eating their hors d'oeuvres with the best manners, Fanboy takes advantage of the friendliness to make small talk.

"Miss Kazansky?"

The nickname makes Elia let out a short laugh.

"Sam, please."

"Sam, yes, of course. You're not in the Navy?"

"Ugh, no! My three brothers are enough. I went with the other side of the family. Mom Carole was a nurse, and my iná is a midwife. So I studied medicine at the University of San Diego."

"Iná?"

"It means mother in Lakota," Elia explains. "Mrs. Sarah is an Oglagla citizen."

"Oh yeah. The captain told us something about that," Billy nods. "That you don't celebrate Thanksgiving because Admiral Kazansky's wife and Jake's mother are of indigenous origin."

"To avoid confusion, growing up we got used to calling Carole Bradshaw, Mom, and my mother, Iná," Sam explains.

"And what did you call Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell?" asks Payback, interested.

His WSO gives him a grateful look. He was dying to ask but didn't want to seem too eager.

"Oh! Icepop and Mavdad, obviously."

Payback nods with a forced smile. Obvious? No, not at all. Ingenious, yes, but that is not obvious at all.

Still, there is a significant absence in the yard.

"Do you know where Brig is?" Halo asks.

"Icepop sent him to pick up a couple of guests from the airport," answers Sean Kazansky while twirling some sausages.

Omaha takes advantage of the fact that the boy finally speaks to try to pull his tongue.

"Is it true that you have been flying since childhood?"

"My first time was in one of the Cessna 152s at Wolfman and Hollywood´s place, in Nevada, when I turned ten," confirms the youngest of the Kazanskys. "Same as Jake and Sam. We also had a flight simulator, the US Navy Fighters 97. Brad, Jake and I even forgot to eat on Jane's F/A-18 missions."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that one," Halo's eyes become dreamy. Next to her, Omaha nods emphatically.

They embark on a discussion about fantasy video games versus simulators of "realistic" situations.

"Grand Theft Auto is…"

"A shameless glorification of crime," Brig interrupts in a cheery tone as he approaches.

Although four more persons follow him and sit on the last empty sofa at the other side of the grill, the group only pays attention to their colleague. Sean steps away from the grill and hugs his brother-in-law with a mocking expression.

"Come on, admit that what bothers you is being unable to beat me," he turns to the squad. "Don't you know? He has never been able to win a game against me, not even when I was a child."

"I beat you where it matters, little blonde razor," Brig replies affectionately.

Sean wrinkles his nose at the demotion of his callsign.

"Pure infamies and slander, adjunct professor."

"Children, manners," a deep and amused voice stops them.

Payback, Fanboy, Yale, Fritz, Omaha, and Halo straighten their backs involuntarily. They know that voice because they passed through the great base in Norfolk at different times in their lives. They exchange frenzied glances. Vice Admiral Kerner is here, too? They turn slowly and see that, yes, the famous Slider is looking down at them from his impressive height. A woman with auburn hair stands next to him and smiles softly at them. She rests a hand on the vice admiral's back with the familiarity that implies long-standing intimacy.

"Hello. You're Mitchell's ducklings, right?"

"Yes, Vice Admiral Kerner," they respond in a poorly organized chorus.

The reaction provokes amused waves of laughter around the yard.

"At ease, lieutenants," the giant replies, his eyes shining with amusement. "I expected more resistance from Maverick's squad."

"Rick," his companion says his name in a way that is both a gentle scolding and a reminder.

"Right, right. I forgot. Lieutenants, meet my wife Suzanne," the woman gives them a slight nod "and Senator Charles Piper. A Democrat, but he's one of the good ones."

Piper rolls her eyes but doesn't seem really offended.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, lieutenants," he says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "We are friends of Maverick and Ice, so we have heard a lot about you."

"What you are is stingy bastards, taking Brig as a driver," Sean snorts. "Couldn't you rent a car at the airport like everyone else?"

Sam looks at Halo, raising his eyebrows as if to say, "Do you see what I have to deal with?" and cuts her brother.

"Sean, take these sausages to Uncle Sundown," she orders in a soft voice that does not accept a reply.

Although he grumbles, the youngest Kazansky takes the plate and heads to where Sundown converses animatedly with the Machado couple under his daughter Elsa's watchful eye.

Sam turns to the squad.

"You must excuse him. He is still getting used to the idea that Jake is back. I think it feels a little…territorial."

Fanboy risks a quick look at Iceman and Maverick's couch. Yeah. Hangman is still between them with a relaxed expression, his head resting on the admiral's shoulder. Kazansky is talking about something that makes Mrs. Wells laugh while he caresses the back of his neck with languid movements as if petting a giant cat.

"Yes, we understand," he says slowly and takes a sip of beer to avoid saying something inappropriate.

In fact, he feels like his entire world has been turned upside down with this family, but he's sure that Jake's return to this house is just the tip of the iceberg.

If you had asked him yesterday what his favorite theory was about the origin of Jacob "Hangman” Seresin, Mickey would have answered without hesitation that he was betting on Kazansky's bastard. His admiration for Mitchell has led him to search for records of his career. Locating photos of Maverick means seeing photos of Iceman. He found it very curious that the Kazansky of twenty years ago bore more physical resemblance to Jake than to his own son, Sean. But he didn't tell anyone, not even his pilot. One does not spread such rumors about one of the most powerful men in the US Navy. He doesn't want to end up carrying loads to the Arctic, thank you very much.

Now, they come here and are told, with unexpected honesty, that Hangman is the mysterious Jake Mitchell. Jake indeed has Maverick's eyes and nose, and his tendency to challenge authority, but otherwise...

Mickey looks up from his plate and meets Harvard's serious face. His dark green, moss-like eyes seem to want to pierce him. He suddenly remembers everything he speculated about Maverick and his brood during training for the Mission. He remembers that Brig had been with Jake since the beginning at the USNA.

"All this must seem hilarious to you, right? You were hearing everyone wondering where Jake Mitchell was for years."

He must have said it a little more forcefully than he should have because the rest of the group falls silent, and Payback puts a hand on his thigh.

But Brig shakes his head gently.

"Not at all."

He looks like he will say something else, but instead, he turns to Sam.

"Can you give me some sausages? I want to go sit with my parents."

Elia nods silently and serves him.

Brig walks to the other side of the courtyard, where Hollywood and Wolfman are interrogating Phoenix and Bob. He sits on the end of the couch next to Leonard and hands him the plate of sausages. The man takes it while still paying attention to Natasha, who explains how they almost escaped Maverick on the first training day. Brig lets himself be carried away by his colleague's expressive voice and smiles when he realizes that part of her exceptional performance was due to pure panic.

"... and then I thought, do it slow, Nat. If not, you'll be out of the ballroom before the party really gets going. And I did like this," she moves her arms as if giving the rudder a sharp tug.

"And I almost puked," Bob interjects.

"And I hear on the radio that Maverick says, "Good move, Phoenix. I like your style." And I almost fainted."

"Ah!" Maverick exclaims from the other side of the table. "I knew that I saw that plane shiver a little."

"Let the girl tell her story in peace, midget."

Pete lets out a contemptuous growl and turns to Slider with mocking eyes.

"At least I fit in all airplane seats."

Slider smiles at the answer. After so many years, the meetings of the '86 Squad are not complete without a verbal duel between the two. But this week has been so emotionally charged that he wasn't sure Maverick was in the mood for it.

"At least I can afford airplane seats with extra legroom."

"Oh! Now you have to pay for your plane tickets? Cougar doesn't love you anymore?"

"It's called integrity, Maverick. Of course, you don't need it because you only think about how to fly faster."

"At least I haven't forgotten how to fly."

"I remember perfectly. I have my license up to date."

"Really? I have a simulator in there that..."

"No one is going to play video games at my barbecue," Sarah Kazansky interrupts like a whip.

Both men look at her surprised but without the slightest intention of challenging her.

The first to react is the captain.

"Of course, dear. Slider and I just…" he looks scared at his friend.

"We let ourselves go," the other finishes in a voice more humble than that of a midshipman facing an admiral.

She makes a little noise of agreement and concludes the matter.

"Uh." Halo looks at Omaha. "Any conspiracy theories for this?"

The pilot shakes his head, too stunned to speak.

Taking advantage of the fact that his buddies are rebooting their brains after seeing the aviation legend and the legendary iron fist of Norfolk being controlled like a pair of toddlers by Sarah Kazansky, Fritz gets up and walks to the far end of Slider, Suzanne, and the senator's couch. He rests one hand on the arm of the sofa, crouches down to look at its occupants, and says.

"Hello. I just wanted to say that I really admire your work."

Milo lifts his head from Charles's shoulder and stands slightly to face him. His brown eyes are cautious. Fritz notices how the senator tightens his grip around his waist and vaguely wonders if he crossed some imaginary line by addressing Ventimiglia directly. After all, Vice Admiral Kerner did not introduce him.

Billy doesn't blame them for trying to avoid being noticed: it's been a challenging year for the actor. The success of "This es Us” is undeniable, but his personal life has made even more headlines. Nor is it a small thing: divorcing Alexis Bledel after fifteen years to start a relationship with a Democratic senator twenty years older.

Milo Ventimiglia is no longer the beautiful and slightly dangerous boy Rory Gilmore fell in love with, nor is the nurse Peter Petrelli, always amazed by the world of mutants. Not even the energetic and reasonable LT Connor "Stone" Portland from Top Gun, the fictional alter ego of his current lover. Under the weak winter sun, his expression lines on the forehead, crow's feet, and slight circles under the eyes are evident. He looks like a worn-out, brooding version of Jack Pearson.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Avalone," Milo finally says with a crooked smile. "I also admire yours."

Billy shakes his head from side to side with a slight smile.

"Na, what I do is complicated but precise. What you do, however... you become another person every time. That horrible mobster you played in Wild Card... that was awesome, Mr. Ventimiglia."

"Oh! So you were one of the dozen who saw that film," his voice is dry, but his eyes shine with amusement.

"My family is from a town in the fuck end of Kentucky, we're going to see whatever they're showing at the local movie theater, as long as it has shots," he explains with a smile.

"Then I guess you're not watching This is Us.

"They don't; I do." Seeing the actor's incredulous look, he adds, "Didn't Mr. Piper tell you? In the Navy, we love weekly series; it gives us something to talk about."

"Boy!" Kerner interrupts in a severe tone. "You can't reveal all our secrets. They're not married yet."

"Too late, Slider." Admits the senator with a perfectly contrite voice. "I have told him everything."

"Everything!?" Asks a frantic voice from the other side of the patio.

Milo looks at Wells defiantly.

"Yes, he told me everything. Even," he pauses dramatically, "that."

Maverick looks at his husband, scared.

"Ice," he moans.

But the admiral is not intimidated.

"Prove it," he says to the actor.

Milo raises an eyebrow, leans forward, and says in a clear voice.

"Wolfman's favorite film is Home Alone."

"Lie!" Leonard shouts, but his son starts laughing so hard that he falls from the couch.

Yale purses his lips and digs the nails of his left hand into his palm in a desperate attempt to contain his own laughter as he extends his right hand to point at his squadmate on the ground.

"I think that's all the confirmation we needed, sir."

"Come on, honey, calm down." Rick puts a hand on his husband's shoulder between laughs. "You knew that one day it would come to light, right?"

Wolfman collapses on the couch, defeated.

"I need a drink. You, Fritz," he looks at him smiling. "Since you started all this pining for Milo, give us a round of that famous whiskey of yours, eh?"

"Right away, sir."

While Yale and Fritz serve shots of the famous liquor, Javier leaves his wife in her enthusiastic conversation with Sundown about engines and efficiency and heads to another couch.

"Hey, Jake," he says, somewhat tense.

The blonde turns his head to look at him without leaving Kazansky´s side.

"What's up, Javi?"

"Could you show me the bathroom?"

His friend makes a noise that is half mockery and half disbelief. Well, yes, the excuse is poor, but it's not like he has much to work with. Still, he congratulates himself because he doesn't shrink under the brief glance Kazansky gives him. The admiral seems more amused than offended, but Javier cannot forget the power that man has. The blue-gray eyes return almost immediately to Jake, questioning.

Jake feels the body next to him tense. Even though they knew this was inevitable, his dad can't help but worry. He gives him a reassuring look and slowly pulls away from his embrace.

"Sure," he says and gets up.

Reaching the kitchen door, Jake grabs two bottles of beer from the cooler while looking meaningfully at his friend. Javier sighs and nods. He didn't expect them to believe his excuse either. They enter, but Jake decides it is better to continue to the living room to be sure they will not be heard from the patio. After all, this is just for Javier. He stops next to a sofa and rests his hips on the backrest while he hands one of the beers to his friend.

"Well, do you want to do the interrogation standing or sitting?"

Coyote purses his lips and looks doubtfully at the furniture around him. It is clear that this is not a space decorated for social functions but rather a warm, authentic family room.

"Yes, let's sit down," he accepts.

Jake takes a wide armchair, and Javier sits in front of him on the center of a three-seater sofa. They leave the drinks on a low table next to them.

"So..." he looks around again, still incredulous. "You grew up here?"

"Yeah. We moved shortly before I turned three. We used to live on the Miramar base, but I don't have many memories of that."

"Were you happy? With…" he can't stop his voice from shaking a little. "Kazansky?"

Jake lets out a short, light laugh.

"A lot. He is the best dad in the world." He stops and narrows his eyes with a concentrated frown as if looking for a better answer. "Well, maybe not the best," he admits, "but he did his best. Without a doubt, he is one of the most sacrificing fathers I know."

"Sorry, I'm confused, Jake. Didn't you tell me that Mitchell is your father?"

"They both are." He raises an eyebrow questioningly. His friend sighs and explains. "They are Navy aviators, Javi, and when I was a child, Icepop, I mean, Kazansky, was in active combat too. So, neither of them was home much. Mama Carole and Iná Sarah decided to live together so they could support each other. So we had like, rotating father figures? One time Icepop, one time Mavdad. It was unusual, but it worked," he grimaces as if remembering something unpleasant. "... more or less."

"More or less?"

"I was happy here, but out there? Not always. Once, at an event at Naval Base San Diego, I overheard someone call me the Kazansky charity case. Because I was Mitchell's brat, trouble was in my blood, right? I guess some people assumed that Icepop was trying to save me from my father and from myself."

"But then, why did you leave? Why all this… theatrics of using your mother's name?"

"What I told you, that this family was full of secrets? That's true. Restricted access to the internet, checks for hidden microphones once a month, background checks on the families of our friends from school, and training on what to do in case of kidnapping." He lets out a bitter laugh. "As a child, I thought that was just how everyone lived." His voice becomes thoughtful. "Considering that we grew up among the elite of the Department of Defense, it is possible that many of the families we interacted with lived that way too. I don't know."

"But all that doesn't explain..."

Jake shakes his head as he takes a drink to cool his throat.

"Wait, I still haven't gotten to the real secret, or secrets. The first was, as I already told you, my father's sexual orientation. I grew up with DADT. It was not a subject for the dinner table time, but echoes of the cases reached us. It wasn't about homophobia... explicitly. Hollywood and Wolfman were always close, and not my parents or uncles would have allowed an inappropriate comment about them." Javier is urged to bite his lips when he understands his friend calls the famous 86 Squadron uncles. "But you know that children create their own deductive chains. I was convinced that we were a law-abiding military family and, therefore, we had to be heterosexual, you understand?"

"Oh, and then you found out that your father..."

"Yeah."

"… but if you too…"

"At that time, I was in a closet deeper than Narnia, Javi. You saw me at the academy, with the ease that I told you that I was not gay."

"Right."

"So I had this monumental fight with him at Kazansky's study, and all my years of resentment exploded like a bomb. Like many children of separated parents, I believed that my absent mother would be better than the father I had, but Mavdad never wanted to tell me who she was. I told him not to come any closer unless it was to reveal Rachel Seresin's identity, and we stayed in that awful limbo to which I dragged the rest of the family."

"And he finally told you?"

Jake's expression turns melancholy.

"When I realized that we were on a suicide mission, I admitted to myself that, really, I didn't care. At the same time, my father begged me to return home in exchange for the truth. Kazansky used his power to declassify my mother's file."

"Declassify?" Repeats Javier, surprised.

"Yeah. It turns out that Rachel was a CIA agent, classified shit until no one knows when. She died in a super secret black op. How do you explain that to a child?" He shrugs and looks at the wall full of photographs. "I wouldn't know how. No wonder my father didn't want me to know."

"Wow." Its all Machado can say after his friend's story.

To hide his shock, he grabs the beer, walks to the wall, and looks at the photos again. There is a story there—a story of love and shadows that dates back to 1994 or further.

He realizes he's not as surprised to see the captain, Bradley, and Jake in casual attitudes. The bizarre to him is seeing Kazanky so distant from his strict martial image. In one photo, he wears shorts and holds little Sean's hand while Maverick holds the boy's other hand. In another, he is lying in the sand while hugging his wife with Jake and Sam - ten or eleven years old - on either side. In a third, he smiles at the camera, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, while he raises a football above his head that Bradley and Maverick are trying to reach. Almost at the beginning of the wall, there is one that especially catches his attention because it is very conventional but also intimate: Sean Kazansky's first birthday. The child is very small, so he sits on his mother's lap in front of a table with a beautiful airplane-shaped cake and a single wide candle in the center. Jake and Bradley are to the right, and Sam and her father are to the left. His friend and Kazansky's daughter have swollen cheeks, surely they were given the task of blowing out the candle instead of the baby. Bradley smiles from ear to ear, and the future admiral has a happy, exhausted expression.

Javier takes a deep breath and turns to Jake.

"So Maverick's secret boyfriend is also in the Navy?"

Jake nods with the slightest smile.

"Of course."

"So the real reason for this invitation is so that he could meet us."

"Yeah."

Jake finishes his beer, sets it aside, rests his elbows on his knees, intertwines his fingers, and rests his chin on them. He looks at Javier with a calculating expression.

"What?"

But Jake shakes his head and stands up.

"It doesn't matter. Let's go back, or Uncle Sundown will have convinced your wife to join some Navy R&D project, and you'll only arrive to have a say in the color of the house you'll be assigned."

Javier looks at him, intrigued. He realizes there's something else Jake hoped he'd understand without words. Is the key supposed to be in the photos? He looks at them again before following his friend through the kitchen, and he doesn't see anything extraordinary: an unconventional family, but do conventional families exist outside fiction?

Arriving at the patio, María Celeste is very excited about Sundown. Javier gives his wife an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder and decides to go in search of meat.

The atmosphere is relaxed on the two sofas flanking the grill. Fritz and Milo Ventimiglia started some light pop culture conversation that the Daggers aren't afraid to engage in. They do not press the actor about details of his industry. It is a simple exchange of film and television preferences about the titles that formed them. The fact that three people sharing their memories are almost twenty years older enriches the experience.

"Hey, Javi. Did you see Danger Bay in Texas?"

He snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Ah, because up in the mountains of Kentucky, they have more civilization than we do on the outskirts of San Antonio." He sits cross-legged on the grass and raises his beer. "Of course, I saw Danger Bay!"

"It must be the foreign series with the most reruns on American TV." Halo speculates.

"It could be." Nods Omaha.

Payback opens his mouth to say something else, but a squeal from another couch stops him. All eyes go to where Vivian Cortell and Sarah Kazansky hug each other and smile like happy, mischievous girls. Cougar looks questioningly at Ice, who gives the slightest nod. The brunette smiles with some melancholy.

Elsa Williams, Madelaine Williams, and Suzanne Kerner almost ran to the couch with shocked expressions. They lean over Sarah Kazansky and begin a whispered conversation, interrupted by occasional squeals of enthusiasm, which the rest of the yard watches with growing concern.

Natasha leans forward so she can address Brig directly.

"Do you have any idea what's going on there?"

Her squadmate gives her a calculating look but does not respond. However, to increase Natasha's intrigue, he turns to Rooster.

"Bradley?"

The other exchanges a quick glance with Maverick and smiles, amused at his friend.

"Do you like weddings, Nat?"

"Well..." She doesn't really know what to say to the unexpected turn. "Like everyone else, I guess."

"Mark your agenda. My father," he gestures towards Maverick, "is finally getting married. Iná Sarah and Sam are going to plan the wedding."

"Excuse me?" Vivian Cortell asks with a threatening expression.

Bradley shrinks in his seat.

"I mean," he is quick to correct with a strangled smile, "they're all going to plan the wedding."

"And it will be great," says Elsa Williams with a dreamy expression. "I can already see the headlines."

"But the idea is..."

Sarah Kazansky silences her (future) ex-husband with a single glance.

"I told you," Sarah declares in a steely voice, "that the Benjamin family won't beat us in this."

The other four women nod vigorously.

Most of the men present shrink in their seats in solidarity with Tom, except Pete, of course. Pete thoroughly enjoys this whole business of planning a new coming out even more scandalous than the one he had with Top Gun.

"So take care of your work, darling, and we will take care of the wedding."

Ice and Sarah lock eyes for a few seconds, but he finally looks away and nods, defeated. She smiles victoriously and stands up with a haughty gesture.

"Come on, I want to show you some ideas I was working on with Sam."

The five women go to the house. Ice sees them go frightened. Pete and his brood give them an amused gaze. The rest of Squad 86 is frankly worried. And the Daggers are completely confused by all of this.

"You're not going?" Yale dares to ask Sam.

"Nah. Now comes the nostalgia festival. When I got married in the eighties this. When I got divorced in the nineties, that. I've had this idea for floral arrangements for twenty years. My thing is 21st-century technology: the website, the invitations, that kind of thing.

Elia snorts mockingly. Her girlfriend raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You've also been imagining that wedding for years, don't deny it."

Sam shrugs.

"Not as much as them." She abruptly changes subject and attitude. "A hamburger, Lieutenant Lee?" She asks with lowered eyelids and a cocked hip.

He swallows dryly and looks fearfully at Elia, but the other woman seems to find her girlfriend's antics amusing.

"Sure," and he offers his plate.

Back to his wife, Javier things about the entire exchange with growing confusion.

That Sarah Kazansky and the other women of the 86 Squadron want to plan Maverick's wedding doesn't surprise him. After all, they have known each other for about thirty years. What seems incongruous to him is that Admiral Kazansky tried to intervene in those plans. If Maverick, the interested party, did not attempt to stop these women in their competition with the Benjamin clan, why would Iceman do it? It's not like the wedding involved him directly.

Right?

Unless…

Oh!

He looks at María Celeste. His wife's panicked expression tells him that she has reached the same conclusion.

Javier looks for the rest of the Daggers.

Across the yard, Omaha's face is slightly green, and Fanboy is whispering something to his pilot with frantic gestures. Payback's face goes from disbelief to disdain, and he seems to seek to confirm his point by staring at the couch Kazansky and Mitchell occupy.

Javier also turns his attention there, desperately hoping all this is a mistake, a misunderstanding.

He knows (he doesn't have to look around, he can feel it) that his wife, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Yale, Fritz, Omaha and Halo are doing the same thing: they are looking for material evidence that their deductions are wrong. Jake has gotten up to grab something from the table. Iceman leans towards Maverick with a slight smile and uses his fingers to smooth out a strand of his hair.

The gesture is casual, intimate, and unequivocal.

The lack of reaction from the rest of the 86 Squadron is the final nail in the coffin of their sanity.

Javier Machado closes his eyes, swallows dryly, and fumbles for his wife's hand.

María Celeste is breathing hard, and Sundown's snide laugh is like a drill in his head.

He hears his captain's voice from afar.

"I think we broke them this time, Ice."

Kerner's response also feels like something from far away.

"Na. A round of whiskey, and it will be as if nothing had happened. If you want, Yale, I'll tell you about when I found them..."

"A round of whiskey, please!" Natasha cuts him off.

 

THE END

 

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html



28 de marzo de 2024

ROOTS 16

Chapter 16: Bloodworth  

Summary:

"Of course! It's just that..." he sighed. "It's been a long day and... Look, I really don't want to have this conversation on the phone. Can we meet on Monday?"
"No tomorrow?" he sounded obviously disappointed.
No, Jake decided. I need a little more time to know what lies I will tell you.
Ice reaches for the folder he had left on the table.
"I know Brig is waiting for news, you have to say something. You saw how well our family did with the "it's a military secret" excuse. Here's Rachel Seresin," he hands him the folder.

-------------------------------------

Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992), Madam Secretary

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

 


 

University City, San Diego, Sunday, November 17, 2019

 

"May I?" he asks while tapping his knuckles on the open door a couple of times.

Jake turns around, surprised.

"Dad?"

His expression exudes tenderness and surprise at the term. Then, he seems to realize how vulnerable he looks and looks away for a moment. When he looks at him again, his face is more controlled.

"I brought you something," and he raises one hand, holding a folder.

"Its not... You don't have to bring me anything to come to my room. Come in, please."

He moves his desk chair beside the bed and makes an inviting gesture. He then sits on the bed. Kazansky enters slowly, his eyes carefully fixed on the floor. He leaves the folder on the table and takes the place his son offered him.

Jake realizes something.

"Why did you stop coming here?"

The man looks at him, surprised again.

"I don't know…"

"Please don't lie," he cuts him off, exasperated. "I think that after yesterday's confessions, you can tell me all the other truths, right? You stopped coming into this room when I was about five or six years old. I know. I never gave it much thought before, but now I realize it is contradictory: You always looked for excuses to be close to me, but that," he points to his door, "was like a glass wall."

His dad bites his lips, sighs, and seems to come to a conclusion.

"It's because of Rachel's photo," he finally admits in an embarrassed tone. "I couldn't stand seeing myself like that... crossdressed."

Oh! It's precisely what he imagined, but not for the reasons he thought: his dad didn't mind him talking about Rachel because she was his love rival, but because it was his past. What did that girl tell him that was the word? Yeah! Deadnaming. It is a specific type of violence against trans people: using their birth name and not their true identity. Of course, Jake didn't know it. He was a child, and he acted in good faith. But his insistence on finding out about his (supposed) mother forced the rest of the family to play along. Mom Carole, iná Sarah, and his father did know that mentioning Rachel hurt him, but they couldn't do much either. Jake looks around and feels the bitterness like a blow to the chest. How many more little details hurt his dad all these years?

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright…"

"It's not alright! Stop saying it's alright! You are the backbone of this family, and we have treated you like shit."

"It was necessary," Ice stops, thinks a little. "Jake, you have to understand that you were not the problem. You were a child. Brad, Sam, Sean, you, it wasn't your fault. Neither do your mothers or your father. It was I who decided to pursue a career in an institution that denied my existence. Yes, it hurt me that you talked about Rachel like someone real, but it's a sacrifice I was willing to make for you." He takes his hand and shakes it affectionately. "You're my son, Jake. That's how it works."

Jake opens his mouth to say something else but thinks better of it and closes it. After all, it's true: they won't get anywhere if just remembering all the mistakes they made.

"Okay," he concedes resignedly, "but you have to promise that you won't let anything pass from now on. I want you to be happy, dad," he concludes a little anxiously.

"Just hearing you call me dad is a great help. Now, what I came for. Have you talked to Brig yet?"

Jake makes an uncomfortable face.

"Yesterday, yes. It was complicated."

Complicated is an understatement. 

After crying for a while in their reunion hug, father and son had calmed down enough that the family could start to discuss their plans for the future. They were told of the veiled offer to Ice to be Secretary of the Navy in President McCord's second term and of their divorce, retirement, and marriage plans.

"Yes," Mav said with a dreamy expression, "I will go from being a lover to a trophy husband."

Sarah rolled her eyes mockingly.

"Sure. Because all these years you were taking advantage of him while I raised the children and scrubbed floors, right?"

"Just like that. He even gave me a hangar in the middle of the desert to…"

"Don't mention your sex life again, Mavdad!"

"Seriously, what went wrong with you little brother?" Jake complained. "I've never seen a straight guy so sensitive."

"I have a theory." Bradley proposed. "When my mother died, you were three years old. After that, Icepop went to Maryland, and Mavdad stayed here. You two," he points to Sarah and Pete, "were pretending to be friends, so your interactions were intentionally distant. You grew up seeing a couple who didn't show physical intimacy, Sean, and you got the idea that your kuŋkákepi were asexual beings. Any evidence to the contrary short-circuits your brain."

Sean tilted his head and frowned thoughtfully.

"It could be." He finally admitted, turning to Jake. "Can you give me your therapist's number?"

The family burst into laughter.

After that, it was Bradley's turn to announce that he, too, was leaving the Navy and proposing to Blue. There was a round of applause, congratulations, and -of course- variations of "it's about time."

"From secret lover to Prince Consort of White Pearl," Sam said slowly, mockingly, with arms raised. "You are certainly marrying up."

Bradley stuck out his tongue at her. She ignored him to ask what was truly important.

"Do you think Megan and Harry will go to the wedding?"

But the older brother just shrugged.

"A state marriage, eighty percent of the guest list will be decided by the chancery."

"Well, I'm going to tell you something that neither the White Pearl Foreign Ministry nor Elizabeth McCord's White House will decide: Elia and I want to have a baby."

That sparked another round of congratulations.

Finally, they went down to dinner with light hearts but exhausted bodies. Saturday had been a rollercoaster of emotions.

When he returned to his room, Jake found a single message from his boyfriend: "36 hours." How long it had been since he heard from him. He called him immediately. Brig answered on the second ring.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes. You?"

"Worried about you, nothing more," he paused briefly, "and tired of being at base, really."

"Don't they let you out?"

Jake became suddenly uneasy. Had something happened that made them need the squad again?

"Calm down, love. I just don't want to go anywhere without you. On the other hand, I have Omaha and Halo trying to soothe me," he explained without hiding his amusement.

"Soothe you?" It couldn't have been anything bad if Brig laughed, but it was definitely strange.

"Yes, they think you left me for Bradley, or for Mitchell."

"Oh! Well, they are wrong," now it's Jake who giggles. "Do they think my name is Hangman for nothing? I do things in a big way. I left you for Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell."

Brig let out a cry of false outrage.

"Really?"

But he didn't last more than a few seconds before he started laughing. It was a light, contagious sound. Jake could imagine him flopping onto the bed and settling against the headboard.

"So you fix things with them."

"Yeah."

"And they told you the truth about Rachel," because Brig never loses sight of his interests.

"They told me, and it is…"

Jake stopped mid-sentence because he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to lie to his boyfriend but couldn't betray his dad's trust either.

"It's complicated," he admitted with a sigh. "More complicated than I expected, and definitely a matter of national security."

"So Rachel was Mossad?"

Of course, Brig didn't mean it, although in the long nights he listened to Jake guess about Rachel's identity, they imagined all kinds of scenarios, from architect to beauty queen.

"No," he was glad to be able to tell him something with confidence. "That I can assure you: no foreign intelligence agency was harmed during the conception of this aviator."

"Good."

"I want to tell you," he assured him, suddenly afraid that Brig would distrust his honesty, "but it can't be over the phone."

"It's okay, love. The main thing is that you are sure they told you the truth this time."

"Oh, yes, it was the truth. It's such a bizarre story that they couldn't have made it up."

But as he said it, he realized he couldn't tell him the truth. His dad never told Wolfe and Hollywood that he was trans, so he wouldn't be able to now... He is proud of his father and his dad, but it seems like he will never be able to brag about it outside the narrow framework of his family.

"When are you coming back to Miramar?" Brig suddenly asked.

That took him by surprise.

Return to base? To what? He has a home in San Diego and a desperate need to catch up with his family. It would be better if Brig came to stay in University City during the bye weeks, right? The bed and wardrobe in the room are clearly for two people. But he can't make that decision on his own.

"I don't know," he finally admitted and decided to go with half the truth. "It's been eleven years since I hugged

them, Brig."

His boyfriend noticed the hesitation in his voice.

"Jake, are you really okay?"

"Of course! It's just that..." he sighed. "It's been a long day and... Look, I really don't want to have this conversation on the phone. Can we meet on Monday?"

"No tomorrow?" he sounded obviously disappointed.

No, Jake decided. I need a little more time to know what lies I will tell you. Oh! So this is what his dad was talking about. Now that he knows, he is obligated to keep the secret. He is forced to lie. Maybe when his dad retires for good, in ten or fifteen years, but not now. Definitely not now.

"No. Monday."

"Okay. But at least send Javier a message. He is worry too."

"Okay, as soon as we finish talking."

He hung up, sent a message to Javier, "I'm fine, reconciliation underway," and fell onto the bed. The euphoria he felt had evaporated. Instead, the weight of what he had just learned was beginning to settle on his shoulders.

He slept badly. When he woke up, he did not remember the plot of his nightmares, but the bitter taste of fear was in his mouth. He managed to go to breakfast pretending to be well. It was seven in the morning, and only the men of the family were in the kitchen.

All conditioned to get up early by the Navy.

Breakfast was lovely, with his parents smiling and touching him affectionately. They were always very tactile in their family, and Jake had missed that.

Now, his dad is in his room and stares at him with blue-gray eyes, like the winter sea. It seems to him that he can see through all his doubts and lingering questions.

"Complicated." Kazansky repeats his son's last word with a sympathetic tone. His eyes become evocative. "I remember my first date with your father, I didn't know whether to sabotage everything or give him a chance."

"Did you get to first base?"

"Of course not. We went to eat pizza, and he told me I had cheese in the corner of my mouth. He tried to wipe it off with his thumb."

Jake covers his face in embarrassment.

"How cheesy."

"My reaction was cheesier. I leaned back and started to stutter," he smiles, Jake can tell that the memory still amuses him. "Luckily, he is Maverick. Always ready to improvise. Without changing his expression, he offered me a napkin and invited me to Thanksgiving dinner a week later. There, we had our first kiss."

Jake stops laughing because he suddenly realizes where his dad wants to go.

"And when did you tell him...?"

"Almost three weeks later. Slider realized I was trying to break up with Mav and came down from Coronado to shake me. He told me that, for once, I should risk being happy."

The mention of Kenner makes Jake sober again.

"I owe an apology to Slider and Cougar, right?"

"Yeah. Slider also owes you one," his tone is final. "What he said at the funeral was outrageous. You have never stopped being our son, Jake, you never will stop being our son."

"You didn't stop being my dad either. I tried," he admits in a regretful voice, "I swear I tried, but your genes are strong. Seeing things around me and starting to organize them in my mind is simply instinctive."

"You also fly like Mav."

"Have you seen me fly?"

"I have read the reports and seen recordings." he admits. "Since you graduated you have been very coveted, you know that? The insufferable Koehler couldn't stop bragging."

"My commander on the USS Eisenhower?" Jake has a distant memory of the man. He doesn't remember talking to him, even though he spent more than a year on that damn ship.

Ice nods.

"I know you didn't want me to get into your life, Jake. You had good reasons for it, but… You are my son."

He suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Dad... what did you do?"

"Koehler wanted to separate you from Brig. I don't know how he planned to do it, but he told me it was the only way to make you tougher. I couldn't allow it. You love each other. I consoled myself by thinking that if you already hated me, it didn't matter if I pulled some strings.

"So those two places in VFA-151 Vigilantes..."

"Yeah. Gregory Huffman was indebted to me."

"Indebted to you?" he repeats, bewildered. "What do you mean? Shouldn't it be the other way around? You indebted to him for receiving me?"

"Of course not! Everyone wants you, Jake. Human resources almost had to beat commanders aside with a stick when they were deciding which squadron to send you to in the fall of 2013. Two years later, the predictions had been exceeded. But I chose the USS Stennis because Huffman has no patience for bigotry of any kind."

"And no one suspected that you were interested in me like that? Out of the blue?"

His dad's face turns sly.

"Could I have made it seem like I was doing Wolfe a favor?" he says with false innocence. "My interest was Brig and you, the bargain I used to make the offer attractive."

Jake opens his eyes in surprise. It would never have occurred to him that Brig is also technically a nepo-baby. Thinking about his boyfriend reminds him of the awkward conversation that awaits.

"About Brig. We're supposed to meet tomorrow. I came here straight from the boat and he's anxious."

"I can understand that," the father nods. "Don't worry, your iná cooks for battalions."

"I don't understand."

Kazansky looks at his son with concern. Did he cross any boundaries without realizing it?

"Didn't you just say that Brig will come tomorrow?"

"No."

He swallows dry.

"Okay." He tries not to let the disappointment show too much. "Of course, you have no obligation to bring him here." He forces himself to smile. "Surely you are not interested in having sex almost in front of your kuŋkákepi's room. Of course, you can go back to Miramar with your boyfriend, Jake," but he can't help but show how much he needs him. "Will you at least come to dinner later this week?"

"No! What are you talking about? Of course I don't want to go back to the base housing, dad. Who in their right mind goes to in base housing when they have a home?"

They look at each other in disbelief. Ice sighs and massages the bridge of his nose.

"I think I got ahead of myself again, right?"

"Yes, by far." Jake takes his hand. "You owe me eleven years of hugs, dad, I'm not going anywhere. Relax, okay?"

"I'll try."

"About Brig, I was thinking of seeing him in a cafe in San Diego, but I didn't know if I could bring him here."

"Of course you can bring him! That boy loves you, he is welcome. When your iná redecorated," he makes a gesture encompassing the room, "she did it thinking that you would come with Brig. We know that you... Look! All the walls are soundproof, okay? Your privacy is guaranteed." He notices a look of discomfort on his son's face and hastens to add. "You can bring anyone else, too."

That last clarification doesn't make Jake happy. His dad's awkward, supportive performance only reminds him that he must also come clean with his family. But first things first.

"The problem is that I don't know what to tell him. Brig knows I came to demand the truth about Rachel, and now..." He drops his head in defeat.

"That's what I came to talk to you about," Ice says, reaching for the folder he had left on the table. "I know Brig is waiting for news. Eventually, you'll have to tell other people, too. Machado and Vikander are interested in your family, too, although for different reasons. I don't want to force you to lie, son, but..."

"I will never reveal your secret," he quickly assures him.

Ice nods, his eyes shining with trust and affection.

"I know, but you have to say something. You saw how well our family did with the "it's a military secret" excuse. Here's Rachel Seresin," he hands him the folder.

Jake opens it curiously. It only contains one page. It looks like a summary of a file. In the upper left corner, the seal of… the CIA!? Yes, according to the title of the page, it is the summary of one Rachel Sophia Levoi (alias Rachel Seresin) file, a CIA agent killed in the line of duty.

Born: March 17, 1960, Los Angeles, California.

Death: July 11, 1997, Paris, France.

Most significant physical features: 1.72 meters tall, blue eyes, blonde hair

Recruitment: Filed during the last year of high school. Invited to an Agency-funded university in the summer of 1977. Hired upon graduation (summer, 1981).

"The CIA really has a recruitment program through a private university?"

Tom shrugs.

"You think convincing people to run around the world lying is easy? They have an even worse reputation than the Marines."

Jake snorts and keeps reading.

Excels in: costumes, accents, marksmanship.

Relatives:

Mother: Karin Kowalsky (1940-1989)

Father: Samuel Seresin (1940-1967)

Siblings:

1) Raymond Sean Levoi (March 17, 1960). University of Oregon (1981): Major in Political Science, minor in Criminology. FBI Academy at Quantico (1982). Agent specialized in covert missions. They have maintained minimal contact since 1977. Contact in case of emergency.

Added 1987: Agent Levoi was recruited by agents of the Aboriginal Rights Movement (ARM) and betrayed by the United States government. NEVER CONTACT.

2) Thomas Seymour Kazansky (March 17, 1960). Notes: Adoption closed at birth through the Sisters of Charity at San Vicente Medical Center in Los Angeles. He ignores the existence of Raymond and Rachel.

Added 1987: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky is one of the Navy's best aviators. It stands out for its respect for the rules. He is expected to progress as an officer. Contact in case of emergency.

Son: Jacob Raymond [covered in black ink] (April 1, 1991). Notes: The father was assigned full custody [covered in black ink]. NEVER CONTACT.

Instructions in case of death: cremate and scatter ashes in the Pacific Ocean.

The rest are paragraphs that supposedly summarize her years of work for the agency. There is more black ink than words, but that doesn't matter.

Jake closes the folder and puts it aside.

"Do I want to know why the Sisters of Charity managed secret adoptions?"

Ice makes a gesture of disgust.

"You already have enough nightmares."

He nods.

"So you're my uncle? My mother's twin? Isn't that a bit over the top?" Jake smiles. "It's almost like a Days of our Lives, Dad."

But Ice's eyes are serious.

"That rumor that you are the product of a Pentagon experiment?"

"Yeah?"

"They didn't tall it to me as a joke, but as part of an attempted blackmail. They threatened to reveal to Sarah that you were my son and Pete had only signed the papers." He raises a hand to stop Jake from speaking. "I didn't tell anyone. It was nothing I couldn't handle, but… are you aware of how similar we are, physically?"

"Well…"

"A lot. You also have a strong resemblance to Sean. So, I want to put an end to that. We deny the rumor by confirming that we are family. Period."

"Okay," Jake agrees with a nod.

After all, his dad has defied the limits imposed by the Navy and the Pentagon for over forty years. He can trust his judgment.

"And then we have Brig. Wait, let me finish talking, or we'll go back to the mess we made a few minutes ago. It's not good to have secrets in a relationship. They poison the air, son. You guys have been together for a long time," Jake feels himself blushing. He thinks it depends on how you count it, "and it is a stable, solid relationship. I want you to decide if you will tell him the truth," he puts his hand on the folder, "or the whole truth."

Jake's eyes widen, surprised.

"Wolfman and Hollywood don't know."

"And I don't plan to tell them," Ice nods, "but they're my friends. Brig has been your partner for eleven years. It's different. I want to rebuild our relationship, Jake, but not by sabotaging your love life. If you want to have someone to brag to that you are the son of the two best pilots in the Navy," he winks, "I'm not going to stop you."

"Thank you. I think... I'm going to call Brig to come over right now."

"Perfect," Ice stands up. "I'll tell Sarah that we'll have someone else for lunch."

 

University City, San Diego, Monday, November 18, 2019

 

"Dad, father, iná, sister, brothers. I think it's time for me to be honest with you, too. For a long time, I have hidden this part of me, and I believe that I can't be less after all the honesty and courage that Icepop showed us a few days ago. I am asexual. That means that I don't feel a physical attraction to people, and that sex actually seems dirty and meaningless to me. Before you start with the questions. Yes, I am in a relationship with Brig. I'm asexual, not aromantic. No, that has nothing to do with you having to leave, Dad, or my other childhood traumas. Being asexual is as normal as being bisexual, or trans, or straight. I was born like this. I don't need to change, or heal, or find a good sexual position. I want you to accept me like this. I don't want you to act different around me now, except for one thing. I really want you to stop making jokes about my sex life with Brig. They make me feel very uncomfortable," he stops to breathe and dares to look at his audience. "What do you think?"

His boyfriend looks at him from the bed with a frown. Jake, sitting bolt upright at his desk, holds his breath.

"You sound a little desperate."

Jake exhales, doubles over a little, and desperately runs his hands through his hair.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why do you talk about how something could," makes air quotes with his fingers, "cause your asexuality? Your family is like, the last of the families that would try to cure you of anything related to sexual preferences, Jake."

"But no one else is..."

Brig moves to the edge of the bed and takes his hand.

"And that doesn't matter. In fact, I don't understand why you want to do this whole coming-out thing. We're together, Jake. They accept us as a couple. What we do or don't do in bed is no one's business. What does it matter if your sister...?"

Jake glares back at him.

"You think I should just let it pass? That I don't care? I care a lot. I want my sister to stop making jokes about our sex life. They sicken me! But it is more than that. I want my family back. At least in my home, I want to be seen and respected for who I am, not who they imagine me. Every time I say that society's obsession with sex creeps me out, they look at me in disbelief. When I deny being attracted to famous people, Sam says I'm a prude. They think I purposely shunned you all these years. And it's not just about misunderstandings or bad jokes. It's about being seen, Brig, about not lying by omission or letting them fit me into their idea of me. I don't want to be invisible!" he collapses after the tirade, puts his head in his hands, and adds softly. "My sexuality is part of that."

Brig looks at him dumbfounded.

"I had no idea you cared so much."

Jake shakes his head gently. His eyes wander around the room, uncertain.

"I didn't care until... do you have any idea what it was like for my dad? Living more than half of his life pretending, even inside his house. He let me call him Rachel, monster, child robber. All to keep the fiction that he was cis. I can see how it has hurt him, Brig, and I don't want that for myself," he looks into his eyes without trying to hide his fear, "or for you. I don't want to get bitter and hurt you. I want an oasis, a haven, a safe harbor where I don't have to pretend that my love for you is measured in orgasms or kisses."

"OK." his boyfriend nods, "That is an excellent out of the closet speech."

"The what now?"

"Nothing about you being normal. Okay? Nothing defensive. You state this is your identity, and you want the family to recognize and respect it. That is all. If they want to learn, they can type asexuality into Google. You don't have to justify yourself, Jake. To anyone."

 

Daggers Squad WhatsApp group, Tuesday, November 19, 2019

 

Fanboy: Did you see his email? 🤩

Fritz: Seriously, Garcia, you have to calm down.

Fanboy: 😜 You're married, I'm not.

Fritz: Fitch! Hold him.

Fritz: Or you'll lose your WSO to sexual harassment charges.

Payback: 😒

Payback: At least you only see these texts.

Payback: I live with him.

Halo: For real, Garcia, you're too old to have a "gay awakening" or any of that shit.

Bob: Sexuality is fluid, people can realize the diversity of their feelings at any time in life.

Halo: 🤦

Phoenix: I have no idea what to get.

Fanboy: nsjfdvln sdlnscjkls

Payback: Nat, you can't drop bombs like that.

Payback: He threw his phone on the floor and ran to get the laptop to reread Maverick's email on the big screen.

Fritz: Doesn't it say to just bring our “wonderful personalities”?

Bob: I already told her.

Bob: He's our CO, and we don't have to get anything.

Bob: She doesn´t believe me.

Omaha: Isn't anyone going to mention the elephant in the room?

Rooster: Don't get anything, Nat.

Hangman: Elephant? I thought it was a Thanksgiving barbecue.

Halo: Neil is deep with another of his crackpot theories. Where are you, Seresin?

Hangman: Right now, in San Francisco.

Hangman: We must celebrate we're alive!

Omaha: It's not a crackpot theory, it's a possibility.

Rooster: 👀

Payback: Hey, Seresin, do you know the area where the captain invited us?

Hangman: Yes. Good slopes for cycling. 😂

Rooster: 😒

Rooster: and you say it

Bob: Did you wear a helmet and safety accessories?

Hangman: 😏

Hangman: I'll tell you when we meet.

Rooster: What possibility is cooking in your brain now, Omaha?

Rooster: = crackpot theory

Omaha: Do you think Maverick is married?

Fanboy: He's not married, he doesn't wear a ring.

Coyote: He told us he had four children.

Yale: 🤣

Yale: Education in Texas is really BAD.

Yale: Machado doesn't know that you can make babies before your wedding night.

Yale: 😜😜😜

Coyote:🖕[3 😱, 2 🔥]

Hangman: WOW. Calm down Javi. [8 👍]

Harvard: Not married, but as if he were.

Harvard: They have been together for more than 30 years.

Phoenix: The perks of being a nepo-baby.

Fanboy: 😭😭😭😭😭

Halo: Is it just here or...?

Payback: He went to hide in the bathroom.

Harvard: 🙄 I agree with Fritz, you have to hold him.

Bob: People process loss at their own pace. We must respect García's mourning.

Halo: 🤦

Yale: I don't think that applies to breakups with imaginary boyfriends, Bob.

Yale: Especially if the imaginary boyfriend is 30 years older and your CO.

Phoenix: I still feel like I should get something. My mother raised me well.

Hangman: Beer.

Hangman: Corona.

Omaha: 😮

Phoenix: Thanks, Hangman.

Omaha: How do you know that?

Hangman: To become a high-ranking officer, you must pay attention to details.

Hangman: 😎

Rooster: Really?

Rooster: [gif of a wolf in sheepskin]

Phoenix: Hey, nepo-baby, have you been to Maverick's house?

Harvard: Of course.

Fanboy: Of course?

Harvard: 🥱

Harvard: Top Gun? Anyone?

Phoenix: 🙇

Phoenix: Some parking advice?

Harvard: 🤔

Harvard: There is free parking nearby, on Governor Dr and Genesee Ave.

Harvard: From there, it's 10 min walk to the house.

Bob: If there will be beer, we should agree on designated drivers.

Halo: 👍

Halo: I propose Fanboy [8 👌]

Hangman: You're evil.

Hangman: 😘

Hangman: In favor.

Fanboy: Et tu, Reuben?

Payback: 🤷

Coyote: I can be a designated driver. [7 👍]

Hangman: 😢

Hangman: I was planning to get you drunk so you would sing.

Coyote: 😅

Coyote: Sing with María Celeste.

Coyote: She doesn't need alcoholic courage [5 🥳]

Bob: I don't drink. [9 👍]

Payback: Do you want to trade WSO, Trace?

Bob: 😲

Fanboy: 😱

Hangman: 😆

Fanboy: 😡

Bob: 😨

Hangman: That's why I fly alone. The drama outside the cabin.

Omaha: Sure 🙄

Omaha: [gif of two planes in cobra maneuver] [2 🤐 1 🫣 3 😜]

Phoenix: No, thank you.

Harvard: 😆 [Hangman 🤨 this message]

Rooster: 😅

Phoenix: Hangman, stay away from Rooster.

Phoenix: Your cynicism is rubbing off on him.

Harvard: 🤣😂

Hangman: I won´t be active for a while.

Hangman: I must research how to get rid of a body in the desert. [3 😬, 2 🔥, 1 💣]

Yale: Oops.

Fritz: Sorry for the delay.

Fritz: Was checking the reserves.

Fritz: We will bring 3 bottles of whiskey. [6 👏]

Fritz: Omaha, weren't you saying that Hangman was done with Harvard?

 

Dana Bowers Viewpoint (Vista Point), San Francisco, Tuesday, November 19, 2019

 

Jake gives his boyfriend one last handshake and gets out of the car with a determined step. For a few hours, he was in a cocoon of Elton John´s music, which accompanied them during these hours of travel, and jokes from the squad's WhatsApp group. He had a great time sending messages from his phone and Brig's while his boyfriend was driving.

Now, it's just him and his mistakes.

Although it is Tuesday afternoon, the Golden Gate observation deck is overflowing with tourists. No one pays him any attention as he approaches the two men, pretending to look at the statue of the lone sailor.

"Mr. Cortell, Vice Admiral Kerner," he greets formally.

Cougar lets out an exasperated growl. Slider gives him a clearly irritated glance.

"Do you expect me to call you Lieutenant Seresin?" he snaps.

Jake sighs at the hostile tone and forces himself to be patient. He went on the eight-hour road trip; he's not coming back before settling this.

"I don't know," he admits. "Last time we met, you didn't even use my name, I was just Brig's boyfriend."

At the mention of the funeral, Kerner's face softens. His features reflect some shame.

"Yeah. Not one of my best moments. I was on the edge that day."

"We were all like hell that day," Cortell intercedes. "Too many things have happened in a very short time," at Jake's confused look, he gestures with his hand as if removing invisible objects. "Don't worry, you'll catch up. You have a speech prepared, I assume?" he says in an uninterested tone.

It's the nonchalance of the phrase that convinces Jake that this is important, very important to them.

"Yeah. I have it. But first, I would like to know why I was summoned here."

That they wanted to see him on neutral ground did not surprise him. The location did. They were both invited to Thursday's barbecue at home, so they will come down to San Diego tomorrow. He could even imagine it as a power move by Cortell, who lives here because he is a top executive at United. But Slider shouldn't even be on the Pacific coast: he has been working in DC for two years.

The two men exchange a look. Jake can recognize a bit of knowing melancholy in their gestures. He understands that this place has a special meaning for them. Finally, Cougar talks.

"The first air carrier Tom was assigned to left this bay in the fall of 1982. I meet Slider here through a mutual friend."

"He set me up with a whore," Kerner growls.

Cortell shrugs.

"I have friends in many places, it is one of my skills. I wanted to know what kind of man he was, if he would take good care of his pilot, or may betray him when things got thought."

He looks at him knowingly, and Jake understands what he means. He can't imagine what would have happened to his dad if he had been discovered in the eighties. Jail? Hospital?

"I told him not to worry. That his boyfriend would return safely from Japan." Slider says mockingly.

"You said that?" Jake is frankly horrified. He turns to look at Cortell. "What did you answer?"

"As appropriate, I punched him in the jaw. I then explained that I loved Tom like a brother and just wanted to be sure that he wouldn't try to get into his pants."

Slider lets out one of his usual contemptuous grunts.

"I have never understood this thing about liking men, really. We are all…" he opens and closes his hands, unable to verbalize it. "Women are the most beautiful thing in the world," then adds something else in a low, thoughtful voice, as if it was something that has always bothered him. "Lesbians have an unfair advantage."

Cougar ignores him and continues his story.

"When they returned from the first deployment, it was Slider who called me. I flew here from Chicago. He wanted to talk about… well, Ice."

"The only trans people I knew were on Castro Street," Kerner moves a hand vaguely towards the city, "and Tom looked nothing, not at all, like those people. Tom was not a clown nor a madman. He was, is, a man like few others."

Jake grimaces at the implied comparison, but the vice admiral shrugs.

"It was the eighties. I won´t apologize for my language. Anyway, Ice is a pilot like few. I wouldn't betray him because he had a hole instead of a stick between his legs. I never betrayed him."

From the look he gives him, Jake understands that he was the only reason Kerner considered doing it. What could it have meant to these two men to see him go? How tempted were they, especially in the early years, to give him a shake and tell him the truth? No wonder they were so aggressive. The helplessness they must have felt!

"So, this place became our place to talk about Ice," Cougar finishes. "It seemed only right that everything ended here," and he fixes his eyes on the statue again.

That's his cue, right?

"Yes, it's fair. Uncle Cougar, Uncle Slider, I want to apologize to you. I misjudged you. No. That's not fair. I judged you well: you were loyal to my dad even when I acted like an insufferable stubborn. I didn't know how to appreciate what I had, and I hurt him in the process. I thank you, also, for taking care of him when I couldn't. I promise you that from now on, I will be by his side. I will be the devoted son he always deserved."

"Damm right, he deserves it." Cortell nods, clasping his hands behind his back, and tilts his head slightly to look at him harshly. "Ice only deserves the best."

His jaw is tense, his lips are tight, and his eyes… Oh! Jake feels very sorry for this man who has loved his dad for so long without expecting anything in return, but also admiration.

Slider's voice interrupts his thoughts.

"Nice speech," his face still expresses the same disapproval of the last decade. "But I prefer actions, Lieutenant Seresin. How do you plan to be the son he deserves?"

This is a test, of course. Jake can't predict the future, only do better.

"We have agreed that I will be his nephew in public. I don't plan to skimp on my displays of affection. About everything else, I will listen to him, trust him, and honor him wherever I go."

Slider still stares at him intensely as if undecided about believing him.

"Ron..." There is something resigned, almost sad, in William Cortell's tone.

Finally, Kerner shakes his head and snorts.

"Don't hurt him again, Jake. He couldn't stand it," he says in a demanding, almost agonizing tone.

It is precisely the exact phrase his iná used a few days ago when he returned home.

"Of course."

"Okay," he admits reluctantly, "then I guess we're at peace."

"I'll see you at the house on Thursday," Jake says goodbye and walks towards the car.

Brig is sitting on the car's hood, arms crossed over his chest, swaying gently to something in his headphones. He stops the music with quick gestures when he sees him approaching and opens his arms.

Jake dives into the hug without hesitation.

"All good?"

He nods silently without removing his face from the crook of his boyfriend's neck.

"I saw what you did on the squad's WhatsApp."

Ah! Bless Brig and his incredible ability to distract him.

"Yeah?" he says with false innocence.

"I think we should give them some proof that you didn't bury me in the desert. Or Omaha will have a stroke or something."

"Okay."

"So, Castro Street?"

"Okay."

 

University City, San Diego, Thursday, November 21, 2019

 

The parking lot of the mall Harvard directed them to is almost full because it is Thanksgiving, and, of course, everyone has last-minute shopping, but they find three spaces relatively close to each other. Rooster is waiting for them, leaning on the trunk of a stunted tree that grows on the sidewalk of Governor Dr. Is easy to recognize him: he is wearing one of his usual Hawaiian shirts over a dark T-shirt and jeans. He smiles when he sees them approach.

"I see you didn't get lost," he says in greeting.

"No," Natasha denies and hugs him.

Maybe she puts a little more than her usual force into the squeeze, but she hasn't seen her friend since they separated on the dock. Fuck good manners.

"Well, let's walk."

The area changes as soon as they cross the traffic light at Governor Dr and Genesee Ave and enter the residential area that opens to the north. There are only houses here. As it is a holiday, the sidewalks are full of people walking from one place to another, preparing their dinners or family gatherings.

Javier and Maria Celeste carefully study the neighborhood. Jake is Captain Maverick's son, and they go to his house. Does that mean this is where he grew up? Most of the people they see are white, but they notice some Latino and black families. Of course, it is an affluent area.

The whole group realizes this slowly and begins to exchange uneasy glances. This site seems to be way beyond Maverick's capabilities.

"So... has Maverick lived here for a while?" Payback dares to ask when they have already been walking for five minutes.

Rooster giggles in amusement.

"We moved in March 94."

"We?!" Phoenix looks at him in amazement.

"You really didn't pay attention to the film." Rooster complains, but his voice is amused. "Let's see, Fritz."

"Yeah?"

"What does Wolfe's book say about the relationship between Maverick and my father?"

"Well…"

The man wrinkles his forehead as he strains his memory. He shifts the bag where he carries the whiskey bottles from his shoulder and mutters a few things in a very low voice. He raises his surprised eyes to Bradshaw.

"He's your godfather."

Bradley nods and smiles slightly.

Javier and his wife exchange confused looks.

Omaha makes an "I told you so" gesture at Halo. She rolls her eyes. Her pilot said they were ex-lovers, so he was not right, not even close.

Phoenix's eyes widen, unsure whether she should feel admired by her friend's discretion or offended by his lack of trust.

Bob frowns, trying to fit this into what he knows about them.

Fanboy wants the earth to swallow him. The things he said about Maverick in front of Bradshaw! Payback tries to comfort him by patting him on the shoulder.

Yale doesn't even flinch.

Bradley continues talking as they round the final bend.

"After Hoop 31 and Goose's death," he notices that Bob is looking at him strangely, but he won't call him father. He can't, "my mom decided to stay in San Diego. Maverick felt guilty, so he stayed close. A few years later their own children were born." he deliberately ignores Fanboy and Omaha's gasps of surprise. "So eventually, they decided to pool the resources of several families to buy a house where we could fit comfortably."

"So, you grew up in a kind of commune?" Yale asks.

"No," he answers quickly, although it would have been an exciting possibility, "only in an exceptional family." he stops, bows, and opens the gate with a flourish. "Come in."

But the group is frozen on the sidewalk. Rooster invites them into the biggest house on a street full of big houses.

"This is a fucking mansion," Omaha gasps.

The spell is broken when Sarah Kazansky appears on the house's doorstep. She wears a long, wide, beige dress and a dark blue apron that adjusts it to her body.

"You made it!" she greets them with her arm raised. "Come up, come up."

The Machado couple is the first to walk through the garden. Natasha stays last, giving Bradley a questioning look.

"What are you not saying?"

He is tempted, yes, but the way Icepop planned it is much more fun.

"I promise you it's good."

She snorts but nods and heads to the portal.

"Nice to meet you, María Celeste. Jake has told me a lot about you," Sarak Kasanzky says.

She barely keeps her formal smile.

"Only good things, I hope."

"Of course." Sarah moves away from the Machados and raises her voice to address the entire group. "Normally, I would tell you to go directly to the patio walking around the house, but it is November. We organized an area for coats and purses in the dining room. So please continue through the living room and into the kitchen. Don't worry about the shoes, we put a silicone cover to protect the wooden floor. Lieutenants Trace, Fitch, and  Vikander, you can leave your generous contributions of beer in the cooler that you will see just outside the kitchen on the back terrace. Lieutenant Avalone, my husband is eager to try your family's whiskey, but please don't let him overdo it. Do you understand?"

Fritz looks at her with wide eyes of surprise and hesitation. Who should he obey, the Commander of the Pacific Fleet or the Commander's wife? But Sarah doesn't wait for him to decide. She gives him a shark-like smile and nods to make it clear that, in reality, there should never have been any doubts about who has greater authority in the matter.

"I'm glad we understand each other, Lieutenant. Bradley, did I miss something?"

Her eldest son comes to her side in two strides and smiles at her, amused.

"No. I think you covered it all."

"Good. Then, at your own pace, follow the yellow rubber road," she says, heading towards the back of the house.

They can see a path of horrible bright yellow rubber squares arranged on the wooden floor of the mansion. It is half a meter wide, crosses the hall, and continues to the right until it gets lost in a curve that must lead to the dining room and kitchen of the house.

Bradley stays with his squad, which is moving slowly because the yellow path follows the living room wall, and (as planned) they begin to stop to look at the myriad of family photographs. Despite the reception, they are clearly surprised to see the wedding photo of the Kazansky couple next to…

"Is that Maverick's wife?"

"Wow! The captain picked up a model? Neat."

"Thank you, Payback."

"You're welcome?" He replies, confused, to Rooster.

"That's my mother," he explains. "Kazansky and Sarah, Mav and my mother married on the same day. At Miramar Base, in fact."

Omaha opens his mouth to ask something else, but a squeal from Natasha cuts him off.

"Bradley, did you play baseball?"

"Yes, in the little league."

"What position?" Bob wants to know right away.

"Second base."

The Machado couple goes ahead. They are looking for another person in the photos, and it seems to them that they found him.

"Is this Jake?" Coyote asks, pointing to a photo of the family hugging on Wolfe and Neven's porch in the spring of 2001.

Bradley looks at them, surprised. Their kuŋkákepi are easily recognizable. He, too, since he was already seventeen. But he didn't expect them to recognize his misun there, when he was only ten years old. Javier and Maria Celeste look at him with distrust and curiosity. He still smiles. That weekend at Fyrosity Vegas Skytravel will always be a fond memory.

"There I was with my siblings. The twins were turning ten, and the youngest was six. We traveled to Nevada because the twins' birthday gift was flying for the first time."

Javier narrows his eyes, frustrated, because that's not what he asked. He has a silent conversation with Maria Celeste while the rest of the group comes to analyze the photo.

"It's true that he looks a lot like Seresin."

"Yes, but polite and without his insolence."

"Flying for the first time at ten years old? Wow, that's starting early."

"Why are Kazansky and his wife there?"

"Where are Kazansky's children?"

"Are those three your mother's children too?"

Bradley only directly answers the last question.

"No, my mother had died in '98. Cancer. I was his only biological child."

Then he tilts his head and smiles.

"But for you to understand the photo, I must explain something first. I told you this house was a collective project. Sarah Kazansky and my mother realized that everything would be easier if they supported each other while Maverick and Iceman flew around the world. With my father's pension and their four wages, it was a feasible project. So, I grew up as an older brother to Samantha and Sean Kazansky. They are the girl and the youngest boy in that photo."

Fritz slaps himself in the face. He seems desperate for a drink of his family's whiskey.

"Are you like Iceman's nephew?" Natasha groans, again torn between feeling betrayed and hurt or amazed and happy.

"And the other child?" Coyote insists.

Bradley looks to the kitchen, makes a small gesture with his eyebrows, and extends one arm.

Jake takes a deep breath, pushes himself away from the counter, and walks toward him. He doesn't dare to look at the rest of the squad until he feels secure in the weight of his c'iyé's arm on his shoulders.

"The other child is me, yes."

"This is my brother, Jacob Raymond Mitchell. After an epic tantrum, he decided to reject the family legacy and rise on his own merits, using his mother's last name."

The squad looks at them in silence, stupefied. Only the sounds of the patio, which come muffled by the distance and the wall, enliven the scene.

"You're both like the archetype of nepo-babies," Bob muses, looking at the house, the photos, and the pair of brothers leaning on each other casually.

"I almost forced you to discuss your parents' sex lives," moans Fanboy, a little green.

"You really broke Samantha Kazansky's heart, huh?" Coyote sighs.

"But Maverick never..." It is evident that Yale is thinking about the weeks of training, about the inhumane decision to force a father to send his children on a potentially deadly mission.

"I was right!" Omaha raises a fist in victory. "This is the laboratory, and you are the result of being educated by Maverick and Iceman. It's not genetic, but it's pretty close."

Jake lets out an amused chuckle. If they knew. Instead, Halo makes an irritated growl and slaps him on the head.

"Will you stop it with your conspiracy theories? They have shared something important with us. Show some respect." she looks at Jake seriously. "This means that you reconciled or something like that. So, should we start calling you Mitchell?"

Jake feels himself blushing at Halo's quick generosity. He shakes his head softly.

"It would be too confusing right now. Jake is fine at the moment. My family and I... are," he glances briefly at Bradley, "working out stuff. Rebuilding bridges."

She nods, understanding.

"That's hard, but I'm glad you had the opportunity."

"I guess seeing the face of death puts things in perspective, huh?" Natasha understands.

"So true," Bradley confirms.

But as she listens to her friend, she realizes she can't imagine it. She thought Maverick and Rooster had fallen, and the pain was paralyzing. They were just her commander and her friend, and she didn't know what to do or how to look forward. What must the two of them have felt, thinking that they had lost their father? She told Bradley to leave Maverick behind, for heaven's sake. Then Hangman, helpless on the Roosevelt deck, had to listen to her saying, "Impact on Dagger Two." Natasha doesn't remember how she got back to the ship. Only the conditioned reflexes from her training allowed her to navigate, like a zombie, the absurdity that the world had become in just a minute.

That's what she felt, the subordinate, the friend.

No wonder they spend their time sequestered during the return trip.

"Well, I think you can go down to the patio now."

"Wait a minute!" Bob stops them. "Why did you say that Jake and Samantha Kazansky were twins?"

"Because we were born on the same day, just eight hundred miles apart," explains Sam, crossing the room toward the group.

Like her mother, she wears a long, wide, raw cotton dress with Lakota motif embroidery on the neck and sleeves. Her dark hair falls in soft curls above her generous bust.

Yale gasps, seeing her so close. That is precisely what happened to him during the funeral.

Sam gets between Jake and Brad and puts an arm around each of her brothers. Look at his c'iyé.

"I guess the big reveal has already happened?"

"Yeah, " Bradley nods.

She gives them a calculating look.

"Just for your information, we have closed-circuit security. There is a camera in front of you." She moves her head upward, vaguely indicating one of the partitions in the room's ceiling. "So, tonight, we will eat popcorn and enjoy your faces when you find out everything."

Her smile turns fierce, like her mother's when she warned Fritz that he better control Admiral Kazansky's access to his famous whiskey.

Yale feels his knees go weak. He definitely needs his WSO's whiskey because he's screwed. He remembers Sean "Knife" Kazansky's murderous looks at those who looked at his sister at Commander Metcalf's funeral. And now Rooster and Hangman will join him in guarding her?

Sam takes her brothers by the hand.

"Let's go," and she walks towards the kitchen door.

The group follows without questioning her authority.

"Does that mean there are no more surprises?" asks Maria Celeste, uncertain.

Hangman turns to smile at her and winks in amusement.

"With this family? You never know."

 

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

4 de marzo de 2024

ROOTS 15

 Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992), Madam Secretary

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

-------------------------------------

Chapter 15: The Missing

Summary:

"It's been eleven years, three months and two weeks since Jake left this house," Pete begins.
"Eleven years, three months and one week, six days and fourteen hours," Tom corrects him.
The man is not rattled by the astonished looks of the family.
"You left at ten o'clock that Saturday night," he clarifies, looking directly into Jake´s eyes.
Pete gives his husband a sad smile. Ice's fixation on accurately timing his son's absence always moves him.

 

University City, San Diego, Saturday, November 16, 2019

Pete wakes up slowly. Pain is a constant, mild discomfort in the back of his mind. Manageable. What time will it be? Probably early. He is used to waking up early, regardless of pain or tiredness. Also, last night he fell flat before eight. He turns his head slowly: Tom and Sarah are still sleeping. She curled up with her back protected by their husband's larger body. They look adorable.

But he can't just stare at them. His body demands that he go to the bathroom NOW.

He starts to move very slowly towards the edge of the bed. He lowers his legs. Now, the hard part: standing up. He presses his lips and stands up slowly, using his right arm for support. By the time he finishes sitting up, the pain has gone from mild to severe, and he feels a few beads of sweat on his forehead. He allows himself a few seconds to catch his breath before standing up. Luckily, his hips and legs did not receive significant damage.

He goes to the bathroom, takes care of himself, and while washing his hands, he looks in the mirror. The marks from his adventure in Sakha-Yakutia are turning red to purple, but they still look horrible. He can't help but sigh. Yeah. He can´t fall and bounce anymore. It's time to leave these types of things to the new generation. He will accept the promotion and stay put. After all, he's got the Mustang, and Sam's been talking about having a baby (it's about time). They could use a grandpa bringing up the rear. That will keep him entertained until Ice is appointed Secretary of the Navy, they get married (in August, so Patrick Benjamin doesn't overshadow them, a fuck up reason to choose a date), and he has to move to DC to be a handsome trophy husband.

He once thought he would be lucky to live to be thirty. He just wanted to be an aviator like his father and... They were in the Cold War, and dying in an aerial battle was not absurd then. It seemed fair: die a hero and restore the honor of the Mitchell name. But then he found Goose and Carole, Bradley was born, he found Ice, lost Goose, and... he couldn't afford to die anymore. It's been more than thirty years, he's been a father four times, he has a house and a fucking investment portfolio.

He'll be a rear admiral - Ice wants a promotion, so he'll get a promotion - and, most importantly, now that Jake's back, he'll be able to marry his husband.

He winks at his reflection.

"You haven't done badly, Maverick." and smiles.

His daughter's hysterical screams cut through his ramblings.

Without stopping to think that he is only wearing sleeping pants, he goes to the hallway, where he finds Sam, barely dressed in a long T-shirt -it must be Elia's-, barefoot and jumping while alternating between knocking on Sean's door and looking at her cell phone.

She doesn't seem upset but rather amazed and happy.

"What's happening?"

On the other side of the hallway, Ice and Sarah also look out.

"Sam? What happened?"

She looks at them, ecstatic with joy, and waves her phone.

"Tom Cruise came out of the closet!" she bangs on his younger brother's door again. "Sean! Wake up! You owe me fifty dollars."

As the men exchange confused glances, Bradley sticks out his disheveled head.

"I'll give you a hundred if you shut up, Sam."

She looks at him disdainfully.

"Don't you get into this, I haven't forgotten that you agreed with Sean. At least sunkaku dared to bet on his ideas."

"Please," Sarah says in a conciliatory tone, "let's not repeat the Wachowski debacle."

"What's all this fuss about?" -Jake has a thick voice, but his eyes are alert- "What about the Wachowskis?"

Pete huffs in annoyance. Seeing Jake's dark circles makes him lose his patience.

"You have woken up your brothers," he scolds her harshly. "They have just risked their lives; it is their first night at home, and you wake them up at six in the morning for some internet gossip. Who cares if Tom Cruise is gay?"

Sam stays very still. All her bubbly joy disappeared when she noticed the marks on her father's chest.

"They risk their lives?" she turns, her eyes going accusatory, from Bradley to Jake. "What were you two doing? How did you let Mavdad end up like this?"

Jake raises his hands defensively.

"Don't look at me! It was Rooster who…"

"That´s enough," Ice's voice cuts the air like a whip. "Sam, you know quite well that we have a dangerous job. Mav did what he had to do. Your brothers weren't there to take care of him. The three of them had a mission, and they did whatever it took to complete it. If you're going to complain to someone, take your fight to the commander who planned the mission."

But she doesn't cower.

"That commander is you, right?"

He stands tall and hardens his face. In a second, he goes from being a sleepy father to acquiring all the poise of the Commander of the Pacific Fleet.

"Yes."

It's just a word, but its full weight cannot be ignored. It is an admission of responsibility, also a challenge.

Sam purses her lips and holds the gaze for a few seconds. Finally, she gives in, averts her eyes, sighs.

"You're right, Mavdad. Sean can pay my fifty dollars at breakfast," she goes to her door, says, "Let's try to sleep a little more," and enters her room.

Bradley, Jake, Tom, Sarah, and Pete exchange confused looks. And now?

"Iná," Jake looks at her timidly, "what was the Wachowski debacle?"

Bradley turns red.

"Uh! I think I'll go back to bed," he says hurriedly and disappears.

The two dads let out mocking giggles. Sarah rolls her eyes and crosses the hallway.

"Tom put more ointment on Pete," she orders without looking at him.

The imperative tone with which she gets rid of her husbands changes to absolute adoration when she addresses Jake.

"I'll tell you inside, okay?" she pushes him gently into her room. "You're probably still tired."

Sarah closes Jake's door with a click. Tom and Pete look at each other, unsure.

"You really need more ointment," he extends his hand. "Come here."

Finally, the family meets for breakfast around ten in the morning.

"I can´t believe it," Sean growls, typing furiously on his cell phone. "I mean, it's... Tom Cruise," he shows the screen to his sister. "There! Your new picnic backpack for two people with thermal insulation and a wine bottle compartment will arrive in three days."

"Thank you, little brother," Sam nods with a sly smile. "It's a pleasure to see you honor your word."

"Let me see that," Jake leans over his little brother's shoulder to look at the phone. "It's pretty. Can I see it in other colors?"


 

Sean shakes his head.

"It was better when you were in denial about Brig. I'll send you the link, okay?"

"Thanks," Jake shakes his shoulder affectionately and goes to the kitchen to help their mother.

"Since we're on the subject of links," Bradley carefully puts the warm bread on the table, "it seems that Twitter and TikTok collapsed this morning because of Cruise. Not even Beyoncé had achieved that."

"I still think all this fuss is ridiculous," Mav says as she sits down very slowly. Ice puts a cushion on her back. "Thank you, love."

In the kitchen, Jake almost cuts his finger in surprise. He had never seen such a casual display of affection between them. It makes sense: Kazansky and his father were hiding their relationship from their kids when he left. Now that the whole family knows, they can act freely here.

Pete continues talking while putting jelly on toast, oblivious to his son's thoughts.

"I mean, Cruise is not the first actor to come out of the closet. Everyone knows about Jodie Foster. This guy who played Ice on "Top Gun," Glen Powell, is bi, right? And Lavender Cox…"

"Laverne Cox, Mavdad," Sam corrects in a tired tone.

"Aha, her. She is a trans woman who acts and produces. That's much more important, right? And that boy, the skinny one who plays violin in "Umbrella Academy"…"

"Elliot Page?" Sean asks.

"Yeah…"

"Elliot Page is gay?!"

There is absolute silence, all eyes fixed on Sean. Sam looks at his older brother with a victorious expression.

"You owe me fifty dollars."

Bradley slaps Sean on the head.

"Do you live under a rock? Elliot Page is a trans man."

"Hey!"

"No physical violence." Sarah warns. "I already told you I don't want another Wachowski debacle."

"But our little brother is so straight..."

"Sam!"

They sit down and start eating breakfast, exchanging comments and entertainment gossip. It's like usual when they manage to be all together. Except it's not. Ice notices Jake´s concentrated expression. He is silent and looks from side to side, following the erratic dialogues loaded with family references, like someone who stars watching a TV show in the seventh season. His eyes have the melancholic shine of longing for the time they missed.

It breaks his heart.

Ice waits until Brad, Sam, and Sean can't talk with their mouths full.

"So, Jake, what's your favorite Cruise film?"

His son blinks a few times, clearly surprised by the direct question.

"Well..." he wrinkles his forehead, reflective. "Valkyrie."

Oh! That's interesting, Tom thinks.

"The one about the German military trying to kill Hitler? You're so predictable, bro." Sam mocks.

"You only like "Rock of the Ages" because he is shirtless all the time," he accuses her without hiding his disapproval.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not lying about my desire," she says disdainfully.

Jake does not reply to the provocation. Just lowers his eyes, hardens his face, and puts something in his mouth that he begins to chew automatically. Sam doesn't know he's asexual. No one in the family knows. They believe his comments are prudish lies because they can't imagine someone honestly and healthily disinterested in sex. He looks up and finds Iceman's gray eyes on him. There is no disdain or mockery in them, only curiosity. As if he cared to know...

He forces himself to stop that line of thinking. It is one thing to accept his father's partner and another very different to start thinking that he cares about him. Kazansky doesn't love him. He never did. How could he love him if he is Rachel Seresin's son? His father loved Rachel. He is evidence that there was someone in Pete Mitchell's life who was as important (maybe even more) than Kazansky. The admiral only protects him because he loves his father. There is nothing else.

Ice looks at his eldest son and raises an eyebrow imperiously.

"Well, my favorite is "Tropic Thunder." -says Bradley- "You can barely recognize him with all that makeup."

Sean nods vigorously and hastily swallows to give his opinion.

"That's the second most disgusting character he's ever played."

Pete looks at his children, intrigued.

"What is his most disgusting character?"

"Frank TJ Mackey," Sean says.

"Vincent," says Brad.

Pete watches with amusement as they look at each other, surprised, but he doesn't let the matter progress.

"When you leave the Navy, you can become YouTubers to monetize all those strong opinions, but that's enough pining for Cruise for today," he gets up slowly. "We will have a family meeting in the solarium."

Tom also gets up immediately to accompany him. Jake watches them leave with his mouth open. Again, he is surprised by the casual and relaxed way they express their relationship.

"Bradley, Sam, it's your turn to clean up," Sarah instructs.

An hour later, they met in the solarium. The room hasn't changed much in the last decade. The only significant new element is a rolling minibar in one corner. Sarah asks the boys to help move the furniture so that the two sofas face each other and the two armchairs in the room are on each side. The seats form an irregular circle with one of the low tables in the center.

Tom places a folder with some documents on the table and sits on one of the couches, with his spouses on either side.

Sam and Sean sit on the second, smaller couch.

Bradley and Jake each take a seat.

"It's been eleven years, three months and two weeks since Jake left this house," Pete begins.

"Eleven years, three months and one week, six days and fourteen hours," Tom corrects him.

The man is not rattled by the astonished looks of the family.

"You left at ten o'clock that Saturday night," he clarifies, looking directly into Jake´s eyes.

Pete gives his husband a sad smile. Ice's fixation on accurately timing his son's absence always moves him. He takes a couple of long breaths to regain control.

"As I said, Jake left because we couldn't tell him who the person who carried him was."

Jake feels how the simple choice of verb brings all the anger back.

"You didn't want to," he says between his teeth, "and don't say that she carried me as if she was an incubator. My mother is a human being!"

He is surprised by the moved look Iceman gives him. His father just shakes his head.

"We couldn't, Jake. Rachel Seresin's identity is something we have protected for decades. Lives were at stake. First Ray Seresin, then Nick," Brad makes a surprised noise at the mention of his biological father. "Cougar, Slider, me, Carole, and Sarah join in the secret over the years. But the main guardian, who first met Rachel Seresin, was Tom."

He turns his head slightly to give him an encouraging look and a gentle pat on the thigh.

"I think the best way is to start at the beginning." Ice says. "My name is not…"

He stops because that's not true. His name is Thomas Kazansky. It is the one he chose, the one that responds to his identity and dreams. He must frame it better.

"When I was born, they did not name me Thomas Kazansky. I took that name when I was seventeen before I joined the Navy. I was not born in Chicago on August 31, 1960, either, but on March 17 of that year, in Los Angeles, one of two twins. My parents were twenty years old when they had us. Her name was Karin Kowalsky. My father was a man of the Oglala Sioux tribe, Samuel Seresin."

"Seresin?" Jake repeats.

There is a brief exchange of confused and curious glances between his offspring. Tom ignores them and continues.

"My father was an alcoholic. It was the way he dealt with his pain. Years later, I learned that he had been taken from the reservation where he was born at five years old to be educated in a boarding school. He never heard from his own family again. My mother... I guess she thought it was romantic at first, but when my brother and I arrived... Well. Nothing makes you more pragmatic than two babies crying from hunger. They divorced when I was five years old. My mother married again. Still, my father stayed close, trying to teach us what little he remembered about his culture. That, of course, did not please my mother and stepfather. They filled our heads with racist shit. I guess seeing your own kids be ashamed of you doesn't help when you have chronic depression. So, he ended up taking his own life when I was seven years old."

"I'm sorry, Icepop," Sean whispers.

He gives him a warm look and turns his head toward Sarah. It's her turn.

"One of the reasons why Samuel Seresin was suffering was that he had been separated from his twin brother, Sean. Sean fell in love with a young woman from his tribe whom he met at his boarding school. They escaped together, married, and made a more or less stable life on the south side of Chicago. I was born there, in 1970. My father was a union organizer. He faced the mafia and the government for workers' rights. One day, when leaving a grocery store with my mother, they were both riddled with bullets. I was five years old."

"So you two are...?"

"Technically cousins, yes," her eyes are firm as he answers Jake.

"Genetically we are half-siblings," Ice adds, because since they are going to do this, he wants to make everything clear at every step. "But we did not know each other until November 1990."

"Wait a minute!" Sam cuts. "You met in July 1990 in New York. We all know that story. Ice and Mav fought, and they each went their own way. Ice met you, iná, and Mav met..." she stops because the improbability is worthy of a soap opera. "Another Seresin?"

"That story is a lie. Ice and I have been together since November 1988. I have never cheat to him. We spent that week in New York together, in a hotel room."

"But then, who were you with, mom?"

Sarah swallows dry.

"He found me in Central Park on the afternoon of July 12, 1990. He said his name was Ken, like Barbie's boyfriend. He fooled me, drugged me, broke into my apartment, and raped me. Ten years later, I knew his name was Troy Manning, a Navy lieutenant. He was convicted of eight counts of sexual assault and other drug-related crimes. The only ones that the police could prove after he spent at least fifteen years abusing women in all the ports of the world."

Sam wails, covers her face with her hands and starts crying. Sean puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Where is he?" Jake asks angrily.

"Dead," Ice answers.

Her daughter raises her face, amazed. His other three children look at him with equal surprise. The tone of pride with which he said the word leaves no room for doubt about his responsibility in the event. Brad remembers with sudden clarity that time in Hawaii when the police came looking for Mavdad for the death of the owner of a bar they had visited. Ice had the same expression of fierce satisfaction.

"Good," Jake says.

Ice looks at him, pleased as if he had expected precisely that answer. Then, Jake realizes something else.

"But if you two were together, where did I come from? Is there another lost Seresin out there?"

And he wouldn't be surprised after what he just heard. How many missing relatives they don´t know about because of the racist policies of the US government?

"I already told you that my last name was Seresin when I was born. I am one of two twins." he stops, swallows dry, and tries to start again. "When we were born..."

But again, he feels a lump in his throat that stops him from speaking. Ice tilts his head and closes his eyes. He is overwhelmed. He dreamed many times that they knew the truth, but never the exact moment he told them. He realizes now he doesn't know how to articulate it. He feels Pete's hand on his thigh and looks at him.

"Do you want me to say it?" he asks gently.

Yes, he wants to, but it is his duty, right? He was who got them into this mess. He shakes his head and tries to find an alternative. Maybe…

Ice goes to the folder from the table and takes out the photo they already know: Rachel, ready for her graduation party.

"This photo was not the only one from that day."

He pulls out another: In this one, the two brothers stand together, back-to-back, with their arms crossed over their chests and their heads tilted to look at the camera with equally defiant expressions. His long, dark blonde hair contrasts with Ray's short, almost bright yellow, curly hair. They dressed in combination: he wore a light blue linen shirt, a red sweater, and white elephant-leg pants; Ray wore a similar shirt but a white sweater and red pants.

"Ice," Jake's voice trembles, "how long have you known Rachel Seresin?"

"In a certain way, since the day I was born. But that," he points with his index finger to the male figure in the image, "is not me. That's Ray Seresin. You met him in Allen. Now you can understand why he didn't let you see him."

Yes, Jake understands now why Walter and Ray insisted that he could only talk to Ray.

Sam looks at the photo intently as she runs her fingers through her long hair.

"Were you triplets then?" but she immediately shakes her head. "No, you have been saying that you had a brother."

"No," Ice confirms, "we are twins. A week after we took that photo, I went out with Ray, supposedly camping. We actually traveled to San Diego. Along the way, I cut my hair and threw away all my documentation. I took the name of Thomas Kazansky, a boy who had died with his family in 1961 in a car accident. And I joined the Navy."

There it is, he said it. He leans back on the couch with a sigh of relief. He feels Sarah and Pete take each of his hands and shake them.

Bradley frowns.

"That doesn't make sense," he says.

But at the same time, Jake groans because the pieces are coming together in his mind, and everything is making sense. A horrible and beautiful sense. He takes the photos and holds them upright at Ice's face level.

"It's you." he moans. "You are, literally, my dad."

"I don't understand. So, you're not Mavdad's son?" Sean asks, bewildered.

"No!" Sam understands, too. "Jake is Mavdad and Icepop´s because Icepop is trans."

"You didn't know Rachel." Jake realizes on the verge of tears. "You were Rachel."

Ice shrinks a little, face remorseful.

"No one has called me Rachel in more than forty years. Except you, of course. It's been strange competing for your love with myself."

Bradley makes a startled noise.

"Of course not," Sean vehemently denies. "I am the son of Iná and Icepop."

"No, you're not," Jake replies. He studies the trio again, trying to fit the new information into his memories. "Iná has brown eyes, and Ice´s are blue. You have green eyes like me... like Mavdad."

Mav nods with a proud expression. Sean goes to say something else, but his mother silences him with a gesture.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves, Ice, can you continue?"

Now that the hardest part is over, Ice discovers it's incredibly easy to keep telling the truth.

"Getting male hormones on the black market is complicated, especially if you are on an aircraft carrier around the world. I guess I stretched the doses too much. Anyway, in September 1990, I realized that I was pregnant. I couldn't explain it to the Navy, of course, so I burned my arm with hot water to get a few weeks of medical leave."

"You burn yourself on purpose!?" Jake's voice is several decibels higher than usual.

His dad looks at him with the confidence of experience.

"A perfectly calculated risk, I assure you." he moves his left hand around. "No permanent damage, see?"

Bradley wrinkles his brow thoughtfully.

"I remember that. I was upset with you, wasn't I?"

Ice's face softens.

"Do you remember why?"

"Oh! Yeah." he smiles at the memory. "You couldn't go out to play because your burns could get infected. Also, the bandages weren't as fun as a cast because I couldn't draw on them."

Bradley cringes a little as five pairs of eyes stare at him in disbelief.

"I was six years old. Okay? Mav let me draw penises on his casts. That was my standard."

Mav slaps himself in the face.

"Your mother warned me that one day I would regret that."

"Carole warned us about many things," Sarah agrees.

Jake has sunk into his chair, admired and scandalized by what he has just heard.

"I can't believe you burned your arm for me."

That's what he always wanted, though, right? To find his mother and ask her if she loved him. There he has it. Not a mom, a dad. Who loved him full and hard right away. He loved him so much that he didn't hesitate to hurt himself to protect Jake when he was nothing more than a huddle of cells.

Ice resumes his story, and although he is aware that all his children are listening to him with attention, he is actually only talking to one person: Jake.

"I couldn't have you anywhere where a paper trail connected us. I wanted you to live as normal a life as possible and keep my career in the Navy if I could. Ray, my twin brother, had returned to live on the Oglala reservation a few years earlier. I knew I could give birth there without the federal government finding out. I arrived in November. You can't imagine Ray's face when I told him he would be an uncle. That's when I met Sarah."

"Then it is not true that I was born in Chicago either."

"No," Sarah confirms, looking at Sam tenderly. "I fled New York in August without knowing I was pregnant. I arrived at Pine Ridge with my nurse and midwife degree under my arm. I was counting on that to break through. As soon as I said I was Sarah Seresin, daughter of Sean Seresin, they asked me questions, but they also offered me water and the most delicious sandwich I can remember eating. An hour later, this tall man appeared, with blue eyes and long blonde hair combed in two braids. Ray Seresin. He took me to his house. That's how I learned about the twins Samuel and Sean and the family history they had denied me."

"In order to have Mav at the birth, we filed a paternity lawsuit in the name of Rachel Seresin through the Tribal Council. They FBI returned him in March 1991."

"That's when you took the photos."

Mav grimaces. Remembering that he got those photos against Ice's will doesn't make him happy.

"Yeah. We also got married in a Sioux ceremony. Although it had no legal value. In 1991 and as Navy aviators, it was all we could dream of."

Jake takes an envelope he kept hidden on the back of his chair. He takes out the photo of "My Two Loves," which he hasn't even shown to Brig, and puts it on the table next to the graduation pictures.

Ice lets out a painful moan, crosses his forearms over his chest defensively, and retreats into the couch.

Bradley, Sam, and Sean lean in to get a closer look.

"Who is that?"

"It's me when I was one day old. On my dad's chest."

Oh! It feels good to say it out loud. It's not like he dreamed of all these years. It's even better. He looks into his eyes and says.

"Thank you."

But the word only makes Ice uncomfortable. How can his child thank him for anything?

"I tried, I really tried to stay away the first few years. I wanted to give you a chance to have a normal childhood with Pete, Carole, and Bradley. I only met Sarah when I came ashore."

"And you were drying like a log," she scolds him. "They made you commander in 1993 because you had become obsessive."

"I had experience channeling my feelings in a productive way," Ice admits grimly.

Bradley thinks it's a depressing comment, but he understands. Blue has told him how difficult it was to grow up with the expectations of being the perfect heir to a weak dynasty and the growing awareness that he was not a man in the traditional sense of the word. Dysphoria, self-esteem problems, and chronic distrust are some of the mental health problems that accompany it. They allow him to rule successfully but also make his love life very difficult. Seen this way, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky's famous calculating coldness takes on a tragic connotation.

"They were very long two years," Pete admits, "but I knew I had to give you time to come to terms with everything that had happened."

"For two years, we pretended that Tom and I did not want to formalize our relationship, even though we had a daughter. We were the talk of the Navy: the couple who first had a baby and then fell in love."

"Some people even had the nerve to compare me to my friend Mitchell, who had decided to settle down after having a child," Ice remembers sarcastically.

"But then Metcalf invited him to Top Gun, and DADT was approved. I always knew Ice wanted to move up in the ranks and never doubted his ability to do so. But I also knew that such bohemian aura would not take him beyond the rank of captain. On Memorial Weekend 1993…"

"On the night of May 23," Tom corrects him.

"Seriously, Icepop, stop with the dates!" Sean complains. "You break the rhythm of the narrative."

Ice grunts but nods. Pete gives him a smile that's somewhere between tender and exasperated.

"Two things happened that weekend. In Texas, Carole realized that Bradley would be returned to the Abbot family if anything happened to her," he looks at his eldest son. "The only solution was to get married and make me your legal father. That's why I adopted you."

"And it was beautiful to see my cousin Chad's face when I told him I wouldn't be going back to being his punching bag in fucking Fredericksburg, Texas. It's the only good memory of a horrible day."

"Oh! Is that the boy I knocked to the ground on the day of the funeral?" Sam's eyes shine fiercely when she remembers it.

"You did what?!"

Tom, Bradley, Jake, and Sam exchange frightened looks. They never told Sarah what had happened in the yard.

"Nothing important, love, I assure you. They just had a bit of a spirited exchange of ideas."

Sarah looks at him with narrowed eyes.

"You and I will talk about this later," she warns her husband. "Keep going, Pete."

The brunette breathes a sigh of relief, Sarah's anger is to be feared, and continues.

"Between Sarah and I, we had finally convinced Tom to come to San Diego that weekend in 1993. It was the first time he saw you since he left the reservation when you were two weeks old."

Ice closes his eyes, overcome by the memory. More than twenty-five years have passed, but the intensity of his feelings when he finally saw Jake remains intact. He had to call on all his self-control to stay in character. Being Mav's secret lover was easy. It was something he knew how to be. But seeing his son within arm's reach and unable to express his love, he wasn't prepared for that. He's still unsure if those first three days were beautiful or dreadful.

"We went to the beach, and while he was playing with you two in the water, Sarah confessed to me that she had fallen in love with Tom," he looks at her tenderly. "I know you expected me to burst with jealousy, to recriminate you for trying to take my man, but, honestly, it's impossible to meet the real Tom and not fall in love. Right?"

Sarah nods with moist eyes. Sean rolls his eyes.

"Mavdad, cut the corniness. You're going to give me diabetes."

His father gives him a mocking look but resumes the story.

"I thought that, out of love, I should do what befits a proper military spouse: not be an obstacle in my partner's promotion plans and, whenever I could, move the mechanisms in his favor. So, on the night of May 23, 1993, I told them that they had to get married and have another baby."

Even before their kids explode, Ice covers his face with his hands. Mav's plan to catapult him into the virile respectability of the top brass always seemed cynical and dangerous to him. But his husband grew up in foster homes and was a victim of sexual abuse in his early youth; of course, he considered sex a legitimate tool to move up in life.

"Wait, what?"

"I really didn't see this one coming."

"Did you say I was born for political gain?"

"But I thought you loved each other?"

Sarah silences them with a gesture. Her face is hard and determined. She is proud of the love she shares with these two men and will not allow them to make her feel ashamed of her choices.

"It was a simple equation: I loved Tom, Pete loved Tom, Tom wanted to be an admiral. A lifestyle based on traditional values was essential for his rise. That meant a legitimate wife and children. Between Pete and me, we could provide that," she looks directly at Sean. "You are not worth less because you were a planned baby, on the contrary."

"Yes, Sean, you didn't have to share the crib like Sam and I."

That brings the younger sibling out of his stupor.

"Share the crib?"

Pete looks at his son, curious.

"Do you remember that?"

Jake grimaces.

"I have vague memories of our life before this house, but yes, I remember sleeping and hugging Sam. It was comforting."

"We didn´t have much space at the Miramar Base´s house," he confirms. "When Sarah was in the area, she stayed with us and... well, the crib was big, it made sense. And Sean, you were not an obligation. Growing the family was politically expedient, but I'm sure it would have happened anyway," he takes Sarah's hand and kisses it lovingly.

His three children see the gesture in awe.

"Oh!" says Bradley, who suddenly understands many things.

"Mav and I were in love with Tom," she explains. "He told me that it made sense to see if we could fall in love with each other. So far, we are doing well."

"Yeah," he confirms. "You have the best pilot."

Tom makes an annoyed noise.

"Don't ruin it, Mitchell."

Jake stares at them. He's not sure what he should feel right now.

Surprise?

Relief?

Happiness?

Shame?

"Dad," the two men turn to look at him, so he clarifies. "Icepop. I think I owe you an apology."

"You don´t…"

"Yeah, I do. I told you right here that you were a monster who had stolen me from my mother's arms, that you had no right to have a say in my life. You gave me everything, and I..." he feels a lump in his throat and his eyes wet, but he forces himself to speak over the pain. "I was so obsessed with being normal that I couldn't appreciate your love."

"No, you were right. I accepted the plan because I wanted to be an admiral. I am a selfish man who wanted to have it all: career, wife, lover, and babies. When Sean was born, we realized we hadn't thought about you, but it was too late. This house and this family are... what did you call it? A parody of a suburban dream. I don't…"

"Enough!" Sam almost screams. "How can you say so many horrible things about yourself? This family is a dream. It is wonderful. Jake was just too obtuse and impatient to appreciate it, but Brad, Sean, and I never doubted that you were a wonderful father."

"You were for me too. I was mad at you because I felt betrayed. Because I loved you like a father, and suddenly, you were the obstacle between Rachel and me. Even when I left, even when I forced myself to hate you, I never stopped being your son. I am, for all intents and purposes, the son of Maverick and Iceman. The entire Navy knows it," he looks at Bradley. "Itsn´t?"

"Yeah."

Sean remembers the rumor, too, and covers his face with his hands in shame.

"I can't believe it's true."

Pete giggles with amusement. Ice watches them blankly.

"What are you talking about?"

Bradley decides to explain to them.

"There is a conspiracy theory about Jake. That he has no known family because he came out of a secret Navy laboratory where they mixed the genes of you two."

"And I will never being able to say anything," Sean whines.

"By the way, the theory that Ice is the twin of an indigenous activist whom the CIA killed in the eighties is also half true. The activist was Ray, and the CIA tried to kill him... how many times, love?"

Tom shrugs.

"He stopped counting after the dozen. We guess they just gave up."

His brother thought it was funny and flattering. Trying to kill a real psychic is very difficult. Trying it without recognizing his precognition capacity is useless. Walter found it annoying and further evidence of the inherent evil of the US government.

"I still have a question. You... I mean, I understand that you didn't want to tell me when I was seventeen. I wasn't... Yes, you were right, Icepop: I was a child and couldn't handle the truth. But were you ever going to tell me?"

Tom, Pete, and Sarah exchange awkward glances.

"We had the idea of telling you when you graduated," Mav answers. "You would be twenty-one. But you sent that message that you had to "do something before coming home" and…"

"Actually, I told you a couple of times when you were little," Iceman admits. "During the crisis. Although it doesn't matter, of course, because you don't remember it."

Ah, yes, crisis is a much more polite term than a "breakdown of crying and jealousy when you discovered that you were adopted."

"Oh! So, it wasn't a dream?"

Ice blinks in amazement.

"You remember anything about that?"

"I remember one night during those months of crisis when it was your turn to put me to sleep. The light was off. You took off your pajama top and pressed me against your chest. You wrapped us in a soft blanket. It was like being in a cocoon. I remember your rough skin," he looks at the photo of his tattooed chest and understands that he felt the scars of the brutal mastectomy, "and that you sang me a lullaby in Lakota. I relaxed. Then you spoke to me, apologized for leaving, and promised me that one day we would be together."

He looks up. Iceman is staring at him with tear-filled eyes. His hands are on his knees, so tense that the knuckles are losing color. He realizes that it must have been torture watching him grow and not touching him as much as he wanted, as he deserved. When did he start to consider himself too grown up to be hugged by his three kuŋkákepi? But even before that, the respectable Kazansky had to avoid any suspicious behavior. He feels so, so ashamed. This man gave him everything. He didn't hesitate to lie, to hurt himself, to repress his own feelings so that he would be happy so that he would have a chance at that shitty normality that he craved so much.

He gets up, walks around the coffee table, and sits on it right in front of Iceman.

"Do you want to hug me, Dad?"

The admiral is unable to speak; he only purses his lips, nods, and opens his arms.

Jake stands up a little to reach him, but the man takes him by surprise, grabbing and lifting him up. Wow! It seems like he still goes to the gym every day? Jake straddles his thighs and presses his torso against Iceman's. He feels his big hands on his back, squeezing his shirt convulsively. The body that hugs him shakes rhythmically. It takes him a while to understand that they are sobs. He doesn't say anything, just buries his face in the crook between his shoulder and neck and feels. Oh! It's that smell. The smell that was missing.

 

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html