“An Inconvenient Truth” by Lem Billings

Spitting Off the Edge of The World (featuring perfume genius) by Yeah Yeah Yeahs plays.

Lacey was born in 1983. I was doomed. Until death. And I could have made it…sort of…if I’d just missed certain unfortunate moments in my life. I could have lived.

But that’s not what happened.

(Adult content below)

The truth is…Lacey only had to show-up at the Kennedys once and I’d have been sleeping with her. Why?

Concerto in G Minor for Violin and Strings, Allegro by J. S. Bach plays.

Because we have astoundingly good chemistry. We think alike. And yet we’re also very different. We’d have been left alone and we’d have instantly fallen into a intimacy no other human being can or could touch. No. Not Jack. Really! Not anybody.

Why? Because…I’m straight. I was straight…too. But…they didn’t know that? Or did they? …Yeah. They did. But…not really.

I think you need to know what they don’t ever write about me. Let it scare you, I guess, if it scares you?

anemone by slenderbodies plays.

After a warm (albeit false) greeting from the whole Kennedy family Lacey and I sit at their dining room table. Alone.

“So what do you think of everyone?” I ask.

Lacey sips her tea. She requested black tea with milk. And I decided to join her. Everyone else is outside playing touch football.

“I can’t stand talking about that with you.” says Lacey, staring at her tea cup.

I become quite serious.

I laugh.

I stare ahead.

I close my eyes. I focus on breathing.

“Lem I’m in love with you.” says Lacey.

I quickly flash open my eyes and laugh, staring her in the face. I laugh with my mouth almost entirely closed.

“I’ll confide in you. But don’t expect me to like you less than them.” says Lacey.

The Seasons, For Piano, Op. 37 by Tchaikovsky plays.

“I like you…a lot.” says Lacey staring into her tea.

I slightly cry. Cover my mouth with my fingertips. And then let my head fall. And I laugh, open mouthed for the first time in years…in a real way.

She remains silent. Waiting.

“You can’t be serious!” I whisper, quickly looking around and examining the premises to find any evidence of an audience.

She looks up. Relieved.

“Do you want milk in your tea?” she asks.

“Lacey! That’s…bigamy.” I say.

She furrows her brow. “Bigamy?”

I breath like a bull, and my eyes beat into hers.

“I’m not going to share you!” I say, with some anger.

She’s shocked.

“Lem…I’m not going to- Lem…are you serious?” she asks, in fear.

I move my face intimidatingly close to hers. We stare each other in the eyes.

I blink.

Then I kiss her. From across the table. She kisses back.

Yes. Jack and Joe left Lem and Lacey to make-out over tea. While they played football.

I was nerdy, asthmatic, confused and awkward. Not gay. Well kind of nerdy and awkward anyway.

“We shouldn’t do this here.” she says.

I move back into my seat.

“You’re right.” I say, wiping lipstick from my mouth.

“Are you sleeping with Jack?” asks Lacey. “At night?”

I smile. Silently. “Not tonight.”

“Then I’ll join you.” says Lacey. “If you like.”

“You’ll get pregnant.” I say.

“Do you want me to join you?” she asks.

And at that Joe Kennedy Senior walks inside and I hear him.

“Yes!” I say grinning.

“Don’t make a mess of things before me.” says Lacey.

I look sad. “I’m not like that Lacey!” I say, fervently.

“You better not be. I’d be crushed if you were.” she says.

Hearing us but confused, JP Kennedy walks in.

I smile at him wide, toothy and gay. Bright-eyed like a deer…caught in headlights.

Lacey casually regards him.

I suddenly realize I don’t want to be sitting here with him watching us. I’ve never experienced this before. Remember: I went to an all boys school. And I didn’t know what to do around girls who I didn’t know. I was friendly. I chatted with them. But I was shy and cautious. I had never made such strides with a woman before, at least not one I actually wanted.

I had become friends with Rat Face, Jack Kennedy, out of pity for him. I was shy and awkward myself. Not so much raffish and rebellious as dark, sensitive and deep. I appreciated the rebellion. I was artistically fascinated by it. I felt Choate was…old fashioned. But…I would have felt that way with any rebellious person who was serious about rebelling against the occasionally cruel practices they sometimes enforced. It wasn’t a fascination with Jack Kennedy.

“Why don’t you two plan dinner together…if it’s not already planned by now.” says JP.

“It’s 2:30. It should be well on its way.” says I, looking at my watch.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I would have liked to contribute.” says Lacey, at least slightly sincerely.

JP is flummoxed by Lacey’s intensely proper manners.

“Yes. Well…you might have lots of other chances!” says Joe, laughing brightly. He then awkwardly leaves. He seems very ill-at-ease.

“I can’t stand this.” says Lacey.

“Really?” I say.

Then suddenly, I can’t either.

“Let’s go get ready for dinner.” says Lacey.

“Yeah!” I say. I laugh.

“Let’s take showers, change and then come down together.” says Lacey.

My eyes grow big in shock.

“I’ll go tell Joe.” says Lacey.

I think quickly. “Yeah!” I say laughing.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back!” she says.

I pour myself another cup of tea.

She perfectly races out and finds Joe. But he’s busy. So she finds Eunice, who awkwardly stands and stares in awe at her because Lacey is beautiful now, but dressed in her natural clothes, so to speak, she’s far more obvious.

“Lem and I are going to get ready for dinner. We’ve had a lovely tea!” she says, cheerfully.

“Oh yes! Oh of course.” says Eunice.

And at that Lacey nods a quick goodbye and then takes off.

Nobody thinks anything of it. They must have at least somewhat genuinely thought I was gay…truly gay…and Lacey was very in love with Joe. So…why worry?

But Joe had accidentally tipped Lacey off. Lacey Banks. Tommy Banks’s daughter. Lacey. Lacey who writes this blog. …And Lacey is…aware. She’s not like Jackie in that way. She’s…not. She’s friends with Lauren Bacall. She could have even theoretically lost her virginity to Harold Loeb. She’s unique. She’s moral…and good…and prim and proper…but also…like Zelda Fitzgerald, in a way. Not in regard to homosexuality. Lacey’s straight. But in regard to self-respect. She’s not wild. She’s…mine.

Once inside again Lacey rushes over to me.

“Let’s go.” she says.

And suddenly there’s no table between us.

“Let’s go!” she says.

I eye and finger my teacup.

I laugh.

“I’m going to get you pregnant.” I say.

“Let’s talk about in private.” she says.

I can’t respond. I silently stand and walk off, in a haze. Following her up the stairs.

We go into my room. I shut the door. I lock the door.

I smile. Or is it a smirk.

We’re both in our 20’s.

“What just happened?” I say.

She sits on my bed.

I sit next to her.

I stare into her eyes with awkwardly raw desire. I smile with awkwardly raw desire. She’s not amused. She lays back on her back and stares for a second before closing her eyes.

“I heard about Joe and that actress.” says Lacey.

She has a beautiful voice.

“Katharine Hepburn. She’s famous.” says Lacey.

I laugh a melancholy laugh. “Yeah. She is.” I say, thoughtfully.

“I’ve loved him. But I can’t stand it.

And you’re not like that. I can tell.” says Lacey.

“No.” I say, thoughtfully.

“But…it’s not like what they think. I don’t think.” says Lacey.

I listen.

“Have you ever slept with a woman?” asks Lacey.

“No!” I say.

“I just want to be near you. You’re…wonderful.” says Lacey.

6 Gnossiennes For Piano by Satie plays.

The room is growing dark. No lights are on.

“Can I just be near you?” she says.

I close my eyes.

“Let’s shower.” I say.

“Alright.” she says.

And then I pick her up, which startles her, and then carry her into the bathroom. No one sees us, of course.

I shut the door.

I lock the door.

“Let’s bath.” I say.

“Is it clean!?” she muses.

I laugh. “Enough!” I say.

I turn away from her instinctively and began undressing.

“So, have you ever been with a man before?” I ask.

“No. Not really.” she says.

I turn to face her. We see each other naked.

I stand speechless. Awe-inspired. Truly.

She turns on the bath water.

When she turns around again I’m removing my glasses.

I join her.

I say, “I’ll get in first. You join me.”

“Is there really enough room for both of us?” she says.

“I’ll hold you.” I say.

“Oh. That’s rather interesting.” she says.

I get in.

She sits on top of me. I close my eyes. And breath deeply. I feel as though I’m in Heaven. My body relaxes.

III. – – by Philip Glass plays.

The warmth of the water and her body. There’s a sublime thought. But ahh…it’s real. And I can’t stand it. I hold her. And then she reaches over and turns off the water.

“I think we should be the real ones. The real couple. I love you.” she says.

I smile in absolute bliss.

I smile my actual smile. You’ve possibly never seen it.

“Mmm. Yeah.” I say.

I kiss her neck. It feels like the right thing to do.

And at that we began making love.

Draining the water, we decide to race to her room. Stopping midway.

We hurry.

And with the door shut and locked we make love completely and certainly.

I hold her.

“What should we do?” she says.

“I can’t stay here!” I say. “You could be my wife.”

She goes silent.

“You’re pregnant.” I say.

She thinks.

“And that’s exactly what I was hoping for.” I say.

“You can’t really know that.” she says.

“I bet you are!” I say.

“Why do you want that?” she says.

“Because then you’re mine.” I say, smiling.

“I suppose.” she says.

“I love you too.” I say. “If I haven’t already said that.”

She snuggles up in my arms.

We have instant chemistry. It’s profound.

“You’re exactly what I want.” she says. “It’s like you’re me.”

“No. You’re me.” I say.

“Oh. Right. I’m the rib.” she says.

“Yes!” I say.

We lay thinking.

“Let’s go down for dinner and then leave.” I say.

“Where are we going?” she says.

“To your father’s.” I say.

“Then let’s leave now.” she says.

“No. I want to watch…you resist Joe.” I say.

“Alright. Then let’s pack. I don’t want to stay here too long. I’m starting to feel scared.” says Lacey.

So we get dressed and go down to dinner.

Joe isn’t interested in Lacey.

She’s polite.

Jack is suddenly particularly interested in me.

But then just as dinner ends Joe leans in and gives Lacey a kiss on her cheek, near her mouth. She is ice cold but says, “Oh my! How sweet!”

He smiles and walks off to go smoke.

“Lem. Let’s get dessert.” says Lacey.

“Yes.” I say.

We stand up and walk into the kitchen.

“Let’s leave!” she says.

“Let me go get our things. Or…we could sneak off later.” I say.

“Let’s leave now.” she says.

“I’ll pretend to be sick. You come help me.” I say.

So we do that. And sneak out the back entrance.

“I best go check on them!” says Eunice. An hour later.

We’ve walked to main road and found a ride. And are well on our way to Boston.

No. We don’t sneak around forever. We get married.

I suppose that’s not too scandalous.

But…it’s also not what happened. And you think I’m gay? And you’re convinced of it? And you think she mean, and archaic? She’s not. And I’m not gay. I was straight.

Later.

“That was rather risqué!” says a reader.

“Yes. I’m sorry.

We’ve resorted to that out of frustration.” says Lem. “And to bring light to the truth.” He thinks. “This is just one scenario. But we’re drawn together for eternity, regardless.”

“Lem. Why Lacey?

There were so many good-looking women. Why does she make you face your actual sexuality? Especially when you were so deluded?” says a Boomer woman.

“Yeah.

I have no interest in other women. Or men, of course. Or anyone else.

Women were very beautiful, true. But…they weren’t her. I love Lacey more than anything or anyone other than God. And so she has a certain affect on me.

And I’m her everything. Other than God.

And when I say other than God, I don’t mean that to diminish God. Quite the opposite.

Lacey isn’t loose. But she’s…capable of being mine.

I was a very moral person. Believe it or not. …And she’s…ruthless in her adoration of Christ. But…she gives herself to me…to test me. And I love that. She’s so fascinated by me that she’s willing to go that far. And yet…I know who I am…and it’s impressive that somehow she does too. So well. She’s intelligent but…she also knows me. And that’s far more meaningful than you seem to think?

She knows me. She sees through me. And I love that. And…wow. This is hard to write correctly.

Ahh…it’s so intensely personal.

She…finds me.” says Lem. “And that’s a vile thing for a woman to do. But she does it…and yet…I’m still the man.

Truthfully she’s mine. Whether I was gay, straight or otherwise. Because I say so. And because I’m faithful. And I’m deadly, and eternally serious. And…that’s exactly what she needs and wants more than anything. But only from me. Only from me.”

Tenderly as performed by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong plays.

My apartment. 1980.

She’s convinced me not to do drugs. But unwittingly.

She tried to convince everyone else not to, but they’re not listening. She’s plotting. How to rescue everything and everyone.

I’m sitting on the sofa. Slightly miserable.

Bobby and his crew are entertaining themselves. They’ve been talked into being far more careful at least. She’s HORRIFIED.

She’s holding herself together.

But she loves gin.

So she’s staring off into space now listening to jazz with me. I’m intrigued.

She’s extremely beautiful. But she’s more interested in listening to my music with me than in hanging out with other Boomers. Bobby adores her. But she’s got him…all figured out. And she’s become far too maternal to him. Neither of them notice. And a romance is impossible. But he told me that he likes to keep her around and I was fascinated to meet her. They met through friends. But there’s shared family backgrounds too.

The Man I Love by Billie Holiday plays.

“This song makes me cry.” she says.

I sing along to it.

“Don’t!” she says, desperately.

I look her in the eyes.

She rubs her forehead and eyes with her fingertips.

Then she pauses.

Then she stands-up, walks over to me and kisses me. Realizing no one can see us, I reciprocate. We make-out.

I tell her we should move somewhere more private.

You know…a lot of gay men had very stylish or pretty female buddies. I did mot. I had stylish female friends. But not close friends. Why? Because it was weird to me. Why? Because I was actually straight.

Maybe it’s amazing that I never figured it out most of my life. Or that I was so confused about what love was when I was also so aware. But…I’m an unusual person. So is Lacey. She’s exceptionally beautiful but she’s never found real, deep love for her. But I love her and I really am a real supernatural being. I’m Lem Billings. Kirk LeMoyne Billings. And I’m dead. But I’m alive in Christ. …Other dead people love her dearly too. But not the way I do.

Our lives are both epic tragedies. But our kids are not. And most people have no idea how bad my life really was. How bizarre it was.

Be thankful. But also be wise.