Mansions In Heaven

Where do we live in Heaven? Home? If everyone is part of a pair…they must have a home like on Earth?

Who are all of these men?

Well…it’s intriguing.

Louis is an enormous house. Well over 12,000 sq. ft.. 1920’s Moorish architecture. Subtle, extremely fine quality details. Lots of details. Awe-inspiring shadows at night and haunting bursts of natural light in the day. Drama. Beauty. Romance. He’s a rare gem of a person.

Lem is a large Georgian Revival house. Red brick exterior. Dark wood floors. Cool, wall-papered inside. Somewhat dark. Pristine. Sharp. Cutting. Imposing. But terribly elegant. The gold-standard of American perfection…


…Jack fell in love? Jack made it in the front door. But Jack never left the foyer. *Lacey laughing* And for almost 100 years Jack had stood by the front door with a knife, a pistol and hand grenade ready to possibly kill anyone who truly tried to get in front door. “What did Jack see in Lem?!?” Sex. Love. Lust. Passion. …Love. *eye-roll*

…But…whether it’s because they weren’t actually meant to last…or because Lem was never even attracted to men at all…Jack never left that space. Lacey isn’t sure if he’s even seen the rest of the house. She’s not sure he even realizes or realized that it existed or exists. It’d be comical if it wasn’t so disturbing.

“Jack!” Lacey says behind him on the main stairwell. He doesn’t seem to hear her.


“Jack!” He looks to the right finally but then seems to see nothing and so he focuses back on the inside of the front door and he sees something again.

“Jack there’s a whole house behind you.” Lacey says.

“Shh! Lacey this is our house in Cape Cod.”

“This is Lem’s house.”

“I can’t leave.”


“Because if I leave I’ll get shot. And you’ll cease to exist. And my father and mother will be killed by Indians.”

“Jack that’s a dream.”

“Dreams aren’t real, Lacey. This has to be real.”

“It isn’t your house, Jack!”

He turns around and sees her and, “You should leave! What if my brother finds out you’re here?!?!”


Harold is a perfectly appointed, sprawling, cozy yet spacious ranch house. Opulent, comfortable everything. The absolute best. The absolute of casual, unpretentious, comforting, serene charm. French television. Perfect espressos. Shaved ice. Endless sparkling water. An epic, possibly historic wine cellar. Maybe even a bomb shelter and a way to another planet through the wine cellar. And him. He very much inhabits his own house. In the absence of horrific attack one feels very, very safe.


Michael is a castle. A rare castle. From the 1000’s AD. With both respectful restoration and creature comforts that leave one speechless. He’s a literal castle. In the woods. Near a river. Totally environmentally sustainable. Mysterious security system. Museums lend him priceless pieces of history for safe keeping.

“Which house is mine?” asks Lacey.

“Well I can see why you’re in the castle.” yells J. P. through an intercom system original to the castle. His voice is muffled but Lacey can still hear it. J. P. would figure out an intercom system from the 1000’s.

…”Not now.” says Lem.

“Not ever!” says Jack but when he turns around he’s in the 1000’s in France in the front of a line of knights on horses racing into battle. He moves backward and watches them as they pass by.

Jack Carries A (Authentic) Tan Kelly Bag

Jack had very good taste.

“I agree.” says Grace Kelly.

“That’s Grace Kelly’s bag.” says Lacey to Jack.

“That’s Grace Kelly’s bag.” he mimics her with a mocking voice. “Silly bitch!” he says to Lem because his “Woman haters club” is still a hit in Purgatory he assumes. With Lem. Lem was his Vice President and he was President, in fact. It was about…being tough…being brave…being men…and loving other men because women were icky and had cooties and were secretly gross. I mean sure you had to marry them to have babies but…loving them? *13 year old Jack stands and thinks while holding a football* “That stuff is for old guys like my dad. *he shrugs* “Or sissies.” *he smiles* “It takes a real man to love another man.” *he stares at Lem’s butt unbeknownst to Lem*

“Novels based on history are silly!” says Harold Loeb in a mocking voice of his own.

But how is Jack developmentally stuck at age 13 in Purgatory? Good question. He’s a grown man. It’s gross on a certain level in his case.

“Give Grace back her bag!” demands Lacey.

“I guess you can be an honorary guy.” says an open-minded Jack Kennedy. But as much as this pretty-well…person…insists otherwise…he isn’t giving the bag back to Grace.

“Nah. I can tell Lacey is tough.” he says. “But I’m not giving back this bag.” he twirls around with it in a circle, taunting Grace.

“Jack goes around pretending to be Lacey. He tells people intentionally or not that he was a trans woman married to Louis. That he was a trans woman in love with both F. Scott Fitzgerald and Harold Loeb. That he was my soulmate too. That he…wrote all of…of Lacey’s novels. Played a viola. Was born in Minnesota. And that Lem was secretly passionately in love with him. That he was gay.” says Michael.

“Were all those copycats on Instagram simply following his lead?” asks Lacey.

“I’m going to say yes.” says Joe Jr.. as Jack confines to dance around his father’s property with Grace Kelly’s literal Birkin bag.

“I’m not buying another Cartier Tank for the rest of my life until this is settled.” says Lacey.

“Or a Kelly bag.” says Coco Chanel.

“Why can’t you let me have a life?!” asks Lem of Jack.

Jack ignores him and darts around throwing the bag in the air again and again. “It’s my bag now! And if it breaks I’ll just burn what’s left thus piece of trash and buy a new one!” he says cheerfully, grinning.

Grace breaks down in sobs.

“Is Lacey a gay man or Bobby or a man in general then?” asks a dead gay man on behalf of other like-minded folks still alive.

“No. She’s mine. And she’s never been a man. I have been. And I still am.” says Michael to clarify.

Jack does cartwheels. The beaten-up bag is held by Joe Sr.. Lacey thinks of grabbing it to send off to Hermès but the minute Jack sees it he’ll grab it and probably try to kill Lacey. So as much as she’d like to she refrains.

“You’re going to lose her if you can’t get ahold of yourself.” says Lem’s father to him.

“She’s really not his in the first place.” says Rocky poetically as a cold summer wind off Cape Cod blows his hair around his face.

“This is my family’s house and property!” yells Jack at Rocky. It’s suddenly 1960 in Jack’s mind and he looks that age as well…

“His could mean me. It could mean you. It could mean Lem? It could mean a lot of people. But it doesn’t mean one man. And that’s the thing. You should be very careful with people’s words. Authors don’t take kindly to being impersonated.” clarifies Harold.

“You know she grew-up with a little boy named Jon. Who’s father was friends with her father…”. Observes someone watching. “He used to terrorize her in a very similar way.”

“Except he secretly loved her a little too.” says Joe.

“Well it’s off to Hermès!” says Coco holding the bag on the tips of her immaculate fingers. A cigarette on an elegant holder drapes out of her mouth.

“Shhh!” whispers Grace Kelly’s mother. “Jack doesn’t even know we have it.” There’s a worried look in her eyes.

And since this is silly blog Grace and her family and Coco Chanel are now flown off the Cape in a big black 2000’s military helicopter. Louis was apparently behind it…

“Louis slept with Grace Kelly!” someone whispered to Lacey two years ago right when she woke-up one morning when they were first falling in love.

“No! Lacey was never a trans-woman.” Harold clarifies one last time, growing exasperated.

*Jack laughs*

“He’s a very, very spoiled boy.” says J. P. before crying in near despair.

“Nor was Jack my wife!” says Louis.

“Nor was he my wife.” says Harold.

“And he wasn’t my soulmate.” says Michael.

“Nor was I ever a woman.” says Bobby.

“He’s got another tan Kelly bag he’s throwing in the air.” says a ghost observing.

“It isn’t her bag.”

“No. But he doesn’t know that consciously.”

“I love you!” says Lem sincerely to Lacey.

“That sounds like shrieking to her now.” says his father.

“I know. But I don’t care unless God cares. She needs to hear it.” says Lem.

“I think she hears it. She just needs to see inside your house instead of being stuck here on Neverland Ranch.” says Michael.

“Not Michael Jackson.”

“Here! These have always brought me luck!” says Liz to remind Lacey to go eat something. It’s Sunday. She can dust her chandelier later. And yes…she handed her two crystal earrings that looked like pieces of her chandelier. She needs to dust.

“Why does Jack hate me?! That’s soo stupid. Especially if Lem wasn’t even attracted to men at all.” Lacey wonders aloud.

“Because he thinks he knows reality better than God Himself.” says Michael Jackson.

“It’s Purgatory for a reason.” says Liz.