A Love Born From Steel
Epilogue—2006
And what became of our friends in Quanah, Childress, and Riverton?
Alma and Monroe stayed in Riverton, living in Monroe's little bungalow for several years. Alma had three more children with Monroe—all boys—and when the second one came along, they realized they needed a larger home. Monroe decided to build a brand new house, and spared no expense on appliances, bedrooms, bathrooms, and decorating.
In the early eighties a new shopping mall was built on the outskirts of town. The plans called for a large Albertson's supermarket to be part of the development. Monroe, realizing that the new supermarket would be a formidable competitor to his little grocery business, sold his store to his butcher who converted it to a meat market. Monroe became the manager of the Albertson's and was moderately successful, although he missed being his own boss. Alma was a stay-at-home mom, happily raising her sons. Two of the boys followed their father into the grocery business. The youngest, who is very bright, is currently working on a PhD in chemical engineering at the California Institute of Technology.
Lureen bought Bobby a horse which turned out to be prophetic. Bobby, who had thought he was afraid of horses, discovered, under Ennis's kind and patient tutelage, how much he enjoyed them. In his teens, he started working at the farm on weekends and during vacations. Although he did anything he was asked to do, what he liked best was working with Ennis with the horses in the stable. Based on his, he decided he wanted to be a veterinarian, and attended Texas A & M for both undergrad and veterinary school. His grandfather was disappointed that he did not want to go into the family business, selling farm equipment, but Lureen was pleased. In her mind, anyone could sell a combine, but it takes a special gift to be a vet. She also loves calling him Dr. Twist.
After graduation, Bobby joined an established large animal practice in Childress. Lureen had wished that he would go a little further afield, but Bobby had made a secret promise to himself that he would provide veterinary services to Ennis and his dad for as long as they owned the Lazy L.
Bobby dated a series of nice young women but none of them seemed to click. Then, in 1999, when he was 32, he ran into an old girlfriend from high school. She had come home to Childress to live with her parents after her husband of six years had been killed in a multi-car collision on I-30 outside of Dallas. She and Bobby began dating and realized the spark they had felt in high school was the real thing. They married after a six month engagement and Bobby legally adopted her two children from her previous marriage. They had a little boy of their own in 2003 and named him John E. Twist—the E stands for Ennis.
Lureen continued to work at Newsome's. Shortly after her divorce was final her father decided to give her a minority ownership in the business. Lureen never knew if this was to spite Jack or had been the plan all along, but she threw herself headfirst into the work, updating the physical plant and expanding the range of equipment they sold. In 1983, when he was 65, LD decided to retire, giving Lureen full control. She inherited the business completely in 1993 when LD died, unexpectedly, of a massive myocardial infarction.
She has remained friendly with Jack and Ennis, in large part because of Bobby's good relationship with both of them. She became their second paying customer when she boarded Bobby's horse—Phyllis's son with his riding lessons was their first. Lureen referred several friends to them for lessons and boarding. Ennis and Jack were grateful for her support because they knew it made a difference—especially in the early years.
Lureen met her second husband through Bobby. During Bobby's senior year of veterinary school he did a two month internship with a small animal vet in Corpus Christi. The vet—Allen—was two years older than Lureen and had never been married, although he confided in Bobby that that was a disappointment to him. Bobby had a feeling that Allen and Lureen would hit it off and when he finally managed to get them together, he found that his matchmaking instinct had been correct. Lureen and Allen negotiated a long distance relationship for two years and married in 1995. Lureen sold Newsome's for a substantial amount—her father wasn't around anymore to disapprove—and moved to Corpus Christi. She is active in charitable and volunteer organizations and is a formidable fundraiser. She and Allen love to travel and every year take a two or three week vacation to some exotic location. This year they are considering a fly fishing trip to Mongolia.
Junior never lost her love of reading and books. She graduated from high school in 1982 near the top of her class and attended the University of Colorado in Boulder on a full academic scholarship. There she majored in English and Library Science and worked summers in the University library. Once she left Riverton, she basically never went back. She divvied up her school vacations between Riverton and the Lazy L, spending as much time with Ennis and Jack as she did with her mother. This irked Alma but Junior was over 18, so there was nothing she could do about it.
After graduating Phi Beta Kappa, she stayed on at CU, receiving a Master's in Library Science. She met her husband, Wayne Curtis, during this period. Wayne had received a MPH from the School of Public Health and when they met he was working on a PhD in epidemiology.
They dated for three years and married in 1990. They had the wedding in Colorado Springs, where Wayne had grown up and his family still lived. Junior didn't feel a strong connection to Riverton and although she loved the Lazy L, she really didn't have any connection to the town of Quanah, either. Based on that, Colorado Springs made sense. They planned a small morning wedding at the church Wayne's parents attended, followed by a luncheon reception at the country club.
Junior was happy to work with Wayne's mother on most of the details, since Alma kept coming up with one strange idea after another. First Alma had it in her head that Monroe should walk Junior down the aisle. Junior flatly refused, pointing out that her real dad, Ennis, was alive and well. Alma then argued that Jack should stay home and not attend the wedding. "He's not family," she said, "he has no connection t'us."
"He's family to me," said Junior. "As a matter of fact, they consider themselves married. Their wedding date is July 4th 1976 and this year will be their fourteenth anniversary." Junior thought her mother needed to be told the truth.
"That's disgusting," said Alma. "How can you say such a thing? They can say that they're married but they never will be, not in the eyes of the Lord."
"Well," Junior replied, "I don't know anything about the Lord, but in my eyes, they are married. And…Uncle Jack will be attending the wedding, whether you like it or not."
By the time the day of the wedding came, it all worked out, although Alma was a little frosty. Ennis didn't care. He had long since given up hoping that Alma would accept him for who he was. His focus that day was his eldest daughter and he did everything he could to keep the attention on her, not on the rift between him and his ex-wife.
The joke, in the end, turned out to be on Alma, as Wayne's aunt was gay and attended the wedding with her life partner. They held hands during the service and danced at the reception, at one point giving each other a little kiss on the dance floor. Jack leaned over to Ennis, "Want t'do that, cowboy?" he said with a smile.
"I'd love t'Jack, but I can't be that mean. Alma's probably ready t'shit a brick anyway. Her ex-husband starts smoochin' with his lover on the dance floor—that's enough to make her have a stroke."
Jack laughed. "Yer prob'ly right," he said, "but it would be fun."
When Wayne finished his PhD he got a job with the State Bureau of Health in Wyoming. They presently live in Laramie and have three children—two boys and a girl. Junior is the head of reference services at the University of Wyoming library. She has a secret wish to write the book her father told her she'd need to write—the one about the girl who grew up in Wyoming with an openly gay dad. She has been working on it off and on for years but plans to get serious about it this year and have a draft manuscript finished by December.
Jenny's path turned out to be the hardest and most difficult of the three children. She hit adolescence with a bang and become a rebellious teen. She argued constantly with her mother and resented her three step-brothers, whom she felt monopolized her mother's attention. She got along moderately well with Monroe, but still felt lost and alone. She began to drink in her junior year and started smoking dope as a senior.
She followed her sister to the University of Colorado but dropped out after one semester and moved to Denver. She supposedly had a good job as a waitress but the reality was that she worked sporadically and spent a good portion of her time stoned.
Neither Alma or Ennis were aware of the gravity of the situation until one Sunday morning in April 1985 when Ennis received an anguished phone call from Junior. Apparently, she had gone to Denver to spend the weekend with her sister. Jenny had managed to get her act together on Friday night and Saturday, but Sunday morning, Junior was greeted by the sight of Jenny smoking a joint at the breakfast table.
Junior called her father collect from a pay phone on the corner near Jenny's apartment, "Daddy," she cried, "you have to do something," explaining exactly what was going on. Ennis immediately got into his truck and drove to Denver, arriving there in a record seven hours. Junior had spent the day packing her sister's possessions while Jenny screamed at her that she wasn't going anywhere. Ennis explained to Jenny's roommates that she was moving out and gave them $500 to pay for her expenses and the remainder of her lease. He literally carried her out of the apartment and strapped her into the front seat of his truck.
Junior stood on the sidewalk, tears running down her face. "You can follow us to Quanah, if you want," said Ennis, but Junior still had two weeks of the semester to finish, then finals, and a summer job in the University library.
Jack's heart broke when Ennis arrived back at the farm in the middle of the night. He remembered the happy, carefree little girl he had met on a summer evening nine years before—now he was faced with a sad and broken figure, pencil thin, her hair matted and tangled, her cheeks sunken and gray.
Jenny ended up staying with them at the farm for more than a year. Jack, remembering his battle with depression and his efforts to self-medicate with alcohol, correctly suspected that Jenny was doing the same thing. Using a recommendation from Ray's friend Elliott, he and Ennis were able to find her a good psychiatrist and a caring and sympathetic therapist, who helped her begin the process of rebuilding her life, step-by-step.
As Jenny carefully examined herself and thought about who she was, she eventually came to realize that the core of much of her despair was her sexuality. Long conversations with her counselor and Jack helped her to understand that she was, in fact, a lesbian. The irony of the fact that her father was gay and she had so much difficulty accepting that about herself was not lost on Jenny.
Many months into her counseling, Jenny took her father aside and said, "Daddy, I need you to tell me your story."
This was probably one of the most difficult things he had ever been asked to do, but Ennis realized it was necessary if his daughter was going to continue her healing process. For Ennis, this was an intensely private issue—one he had only discussed with Jack—and even with Jack, those conversations were rare.
"Can we talk in the stable, Jen?" he asked her.
"Sure Daddy, but why there?" she replied.
"That's the place where I finally accepted myself," he said, "and maybe there will be something in the air that will be good for you."
They spread a blanket on the floor of the tack room and spent the better part of a day talking. Ennis told her everything: Rich and Earl, meeting Jack, their summer on Brokeback Mountain, their fishing trips, and the harrowing weekend at Don Wroe's cabin.
"On that weekend I knew—and accepted—that I loved Jack," he said, "but I still didn't accept that I was gay." He told her the story of their first summer in Quanah and how they learned that Hal was gay. He told her about the magazines—Jenny asked if they still had them. "We do, honey," he said. "I'll show them t'you if you want. They're sorta funny."
Jenny laughed. "If my problem is that I like women, I'm not sure I'll get off looking at naked men," she said.
"It's not a problem that you like women, sweetheart," said Ennis. "It's who you are. Don't ever say it's a problem."
Jenny smiled. "Thank you, Daddy," she said.
Ennis continued the story, telling her about the day Hal died and how he had kissed him in the hour before his death. "After that," he said, "I came down here to the tack room and spent a long time thinking. That was the moment for me—that was when I could say to myself, without flinching, 'I'm gay.'" He paused. "That was the piece that I didn't understand," he said, "but I figgered out that night. For years, I denied it all. Then, I said, 'I love Jack' but I thought if I only loved Jack, I still wasn't queer. It wasn't until I could say, 'I'm gay' that I could truly give myself completely to Jack."
"But why is that Daddy?"
"Why? Because until you can completely accept yerself, you can never completely accept another person. That was the lesson that Hal taught me and what I learned the night he died." He looked at Jenny and saw tears rolling down her cheeks. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her head, "I love you sweetheart. You've always been my little angel."
Jenny sighed. "Oh, Daddy, it was so hard for you."
Ennis nodded. "It was, sweetheart. And it took a long time, too—thirteen long years. I know it's bein' hard for you, but at least it ain't takin' as long."
Jenny gave him a rueful smile, "That's true Daddy, but these last few years haven't been particularly great."
"Well, let's hope you've turned the corner and things will be better from here on out."
Jenny gave him another hug, "I think they will Daddy," she said. "And thank you for everything you've told me today."
He smiled. "I have one more thing to tell you—but this is a happy story."
She looked at him, surprised. "There's more?"
"Yup," he said. "Let me tell you 'bout the day Jack and I got married." And for the first time in his life, Ennis told another person the story of their wedding at the crafts fair. Even Hal hadn't heard all the details.
"'That's it?'" said Jenny, smiling.
"Yup, 'that's it,'" said Ennis. "Not 'I do.' If you listen t'Jack and me carefully, you'll notice we say 'that's it' to each other pretty often."
"I have noticed that, Daddy," Jenny said.
"Well, each time we do, that's when reconfirm our vow to each other. We've never talked about it, but I know he feels the same way."
As Ennis predicted, their conversation that day was the turning point. Jenny continued to meet with her therapist and she continued to talk to her dad and Jack, but now her discussions were filled with hope and thoughts of the future rather than depression and despair. In planning for the future, Jenny realized she needed to leave Quanah, as much as part of her wanted to stay with her dad and Jack forever. After several months of research, she made the decision to attend Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts, enrolling as a first year (they don't have freshmen at Smith) in the fall of 1986. Even though she had opportunities for summer jobs in Northampton, she came home every summer to the Lazy L to work with her dad and Jack on the farm. She needed the time with them to rest and reflect after the busy school year.
Jenny graduated from Smith magna cum laude in 1990, with a major in art. Although she was tempted to go back to Texas, she realized that job opportunities were better in the northeast. She stayed in the Pioneer Valley area, working first for a design firm and eventually starting her own business as a graphic designer. She met her life partner, Kelly Hibbard, at a Smith College fundraiser in the fall of 1994. Julia Child, Smith College Class of 1934, was putting on a cooking demonstration with a gourmet dinner afterwards. Jenny liked to cook and was happy to spend $150 to support the cause. She was seated next to Kelly, who was not a Smith grad and had had to beg, borrow, and steal to get a ticket. "I'm a food stylist," she explained, "and there was no way I could know that Julia Child was in town and not be here."
"I'm an alum," said Jenny. "It's easy for me to get tickets to these sorts of things." She handed her a piece of paper with her phone number. "If there's ever something you want to go to, give me a call."
Kelly had taken the paper and two weeks later, called Jenny. "I don't really need tickets to anything," she said, "but I was wondering if you wanted to go the movies with me." From that simple invitation, a lifelong partnership was born. They committed to each other in 1996, had a baby, a boy, in 2000 (Jenny was the birth mother) and are expecting their second child—they know it is a girl—around Christmas this year. Kelly is the birth mother this time.
Same sex marriage was legalized in Massachusetts in 2004, so Jenny and Kelly decided to have a wedding, complete with all the trimmings. Jenny sent her mother an invitation, which was not acknowledged in any way. She called her father in tears.
"Why do you keep torturin' yerself?" he said. "It's been eighteen years. I think this is a stone that will never crack."
"I know, but I keep hopin', Daddy," she said. "She is my mother."
In fact, Alma is the only black spot in Jenny's otherwise happy life.
During the years when the girls were growing up and Ennis was still paying child support, he and Alma had been able to negotiate a workable truce. He knew that she still disapproved of his life with Jack, but had stopped badmouthing him in front of the girls. They had worked out a visitation plan—two months in the summer, the week between Christmas and New Year's, and school vacation weeks in February and April—and kept to it for eight years. However, after Jenny's crisis, Alma convinced herself that Ennis and Jack had "turned Jenny queer" and broke off all contact. No amount of conversation could help Alma to see otherwise, and Alma refused to accept any responsibility that Jenny's problems started while she was still living in Riverton.
Junior filled in Ennis on bits and pieces of Alma's life, but Ennis found he didn't really care. It was a time of his life that held few happy memories. He had actually thrown his first wedding ring away years before, tossing it in the river in a private little ceremony witnessed only by himself. The last time he'd had any contact with her was at Junior's wedding in 1990.
Jenny and Kelly's wedding was held at the Helen Hills Hills Chapel at Smith and the reception was on campus at the Alumnae House. Jack, Ennis, and Bobby flew in from Texas and Junior joined them from Wyoming. The reception was a beautifully catered affair and since Kelly was a food stylist, every touch was exquisite.
"I've never seen anything like this," said Ennis, looking at a perfectly shaped pea pod that balanced three symmetrical peas on a ribbon of salmon paté.
"I know, it puts my cookin' t'shame," said Jack, with a smile.
"Cowboy, you've turned into a damn fine cook," said Ennis, smiling back, "and besides, I'm not sure I could live on this stuff anyway. Nice for a wedddin' though."
In addition to the champagne, canapés, and hors d'oeuvres, there was a small band for dancing. Jack reached out a hand and asked Ennis to dance. "Oh Jack, I'm a lousy dancer," said Ennis.
"Humor me, cowboy," Jack replied, pulling him to his feet. "I let ya say no at Junior's wedding."
They danced at the edge of the crowd, awkward but smiling, enjoying the moment. Junior, who was sitting next to Bobby at the table, leaned over and said. "Look at my poor dad. He hates to dance."
Bobby smiled at her. "This is probably the first time they've ever danced together in their lives—or ever been able to, in front of other people."
Junior nodded. "I am sure this is the first time, but they could've danced at my wedding," she said, explaining about Wayne's aunt and her partner. "I'm sure he didn't because my mother was there."
She stood up, walked over, and laid her hand on her father's shoulder. "May I interrupt?" she asked, with a smile.'
"Oh sweetheart, please do," said her father gratefully.
She folded comfortably into Jack's arms. "This may be the one thing that men and women do more naturally together," she said, with a smile.
Jack laughed. "Well mebbe if yer father learned t'dance he'd be a little better at it."
Junior still smiling said, "Uncle Jack, remember my first day at the farm? Remember what I said to you?"
"Sweetheart, I'll never forget," he said. "You thanked me for makin' him happy."
"That's right," she said. "And I'm thanking you again. You're still making him happy."
"Junior," said Jack, "nothin' has changed in that respect. He's still makin' me happy too."
And what about Ennis and Jack? Well, they are proof that not every life story is a tragedy and people can, and do, live happily ever after.
Jeanie's comment in the restaurant—that fact that Hal gave Ennis the farm would carry some weight in the town—proved to be true. They established the farm as a business and became part of the Quanah community. They have been accepted as businessmen, citizens, and yes, life partners. Sure, they know there are people who talk about them behind their backs and with whom they have never become friends—but those same people talk about the people who attend a different church or talk about the Mexican family who lives on the outskirts of town. As Ennis realized during his transformational summer in 1976, they know that what other people think about them is not their problem.
It probably helps that Jack and Ennis live a quiet and private life. They are happiest at the farm and that's where they want to be. The places that could be danger spots—such as a bar—hold no interest for them for socialization. Ennis once thought back on all the years in Riverton when he was drinking in bars—he went to them for one reason and one reason only—to get drunk. It hadn't been fun and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. He had realized that the only time he'd ever had fun drinking in a bar was the day he met Jack. Now that he could have a beer on his own porch, why spend money in a commercial establishment?
Jack, always more outgoing and friendly, does like to interact with others, but they meet that need through a close circle of friends that they socialize with. Dinners, picnics, an evening playing cards—these are the activities the Jack and Ennis have come to enjoy and the way they spent time with friends. They have been able to create a life that meets their needs to be with others but at the same time, create a buffer from those who might choose to harm them. Except for the one incident with Roger Grindell, and the insults of Norm Crocker, Jack and Ennis have never had to deal with another "tire iron guy" in their lives.
Financially, they are secure. Between Ennis and Jack's savings, Jack's divorce settlement, and the money he inherited from Hal, they had a bit more than $81,000 available to them in the fall of 1976. They found a financial advisor that they trusted and invested the money wisely. In the early years, the met their day-to-day expenses with income that the farm generated plus interest income from their investments. Only in rare circumstances—such as when Jenny needed tuition support to attend Smith—have they touched the principal, and when they have done so, they have paid it back.
At present, the horse is business is making a comfortable profit, and has been doing so for about twenty years. Jack and Ennis have continued to invest cautiously and have established trusts for their seven (soon to be eight) grandchildren, as well as their own retirement accounts. For Ennis, in particular, who spent the first thirty-three years of his life living "two bucks away from the poor house," as he would say, the money they have saved has given both of them a level of financial comfort and security that they never expected to achieve.
Of course, they have the asset of the farm, too, which has appreciated over the years, both in the value of the property as well as the value of the business they have created. But in some ways, Lazy L is a "paper asset" in that they never intend to sell and plan to spend the rest of their lives living and working on their farm in Quanah. Ennis's will stipulates that Bobby will inherit the farm, but Jack and Ennis have no intention of dying any time soon. Bobby is already thinking that it will be John E. Twist who takes over the reins of the Lazy L someday—and Ennis is itching to get his youngest grandson in the saddle. "Three ain't too young to learn t'ride," he said to Bobby. "I started when I was two."
In the fall of 1976 they followed the plan they had sketched out for themselves when Jack was getting his hopes up. They renovated the bathroom and traveled back to Wyoming for a week. They took Jenny and Junior camping in Yellowstone, negotiated to buy two horses from Ennis's friend in Riverton, then drove up to Lightning Flat so that Jack could introduce Ennis to his parents.
Jack's father's reaction, as Jack suspected it would be, was only two steps away from grabbing a shotgun and running them off the ranch. He called them both fucking queers and told them to "never darken my doorway again." Jack had offered that they could stay a day or two to help with some repairs around the ranch, but Jack's father was of the opinion that because his son was now a queer, he had lost all his abilities to hammer, saw, paint, or take care of animals. Jack's mother, on the other hand, adhered to Jack's philosophy of mothers. "Yer happy now, son, ain't ya?" she said to them as they got back in Jack's truck after their all too brief visit.
"I am mama," he said. "Very happy."
"Mebbe I could come see you in Texas," she said. "I'd like t'meet my grandson, y'know." Her comment planted the seed of an idea in both their minds. Later that fall—in the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas—Jack sent his mother a bus ticket and she came and visited for ten days. For Ennis, it was like having the mother he had missed for twenty years come back into his life. They put up a Christmas tree, bought presents, and baked cookies. She taught them the right way to do laundry (sorting light and dark) and gave Ennis some pointers on how to properly wax the kitchen floor. When she said goodbye, they all had tears in their eyes. While Jack never saw his father again, his mother came to visit once or twice a year until she died in 1997. Ennis still grieves her.
They travel, but are selective about where they go and what they do. Ennis frets every time they leave the horses, even though they have reliable help to watch them in their absence. They have gone fly fishing in Alaska a few times, which they both enjoyed. They usually go hunting for a week in Wyoming in November, finishing their trip at Junior's house for the Thanksgiving holiday. Jenny is in New England and they love to visit her in the summer—enjoying the rich green foliage, the mountains, and the ocean. There, they act like tourists—going to crafts fairs, antiquing, and eating fried clams and baked beans. One year, they rented a cottage on Deer Isle, Maine for a week. They ate lobster, chowder, and blueberry pie at Eaton's Lobster Pool, learned to sea kayak, and went hiking on Isle Au Haut. In the evening, they'd sit on the porch of their cottage and watch the sun slip past the horizon, sending long orange rays across the blue of Penobscot Bay. "Y'know, En," said Jack, "I've watched the sun set hundreds of times in Quanah, but I don't think it's ever as pretty as this."
Ennis agreed. "Even on Brokeback, it was beautiful, but somethin' 'bout the ocean…"
Jack turned to him, his eyes shining. "And t'think, without you, I prob'ly would never have seen this."
"That's right, babe," said Ennis, his voice soft. "It's our life. We built a life together."
The year they both turned forty, they decided to quit smoking. This was not an easy decision as they both liked to smoke and they liked to smoke together. But Ennis had developed a cough and Jack didn't like the way his complexion looked. "I want t'live t'be old and gray with you, En," he said, "not die of lung cancer."
They picked a quit date, threw out all the ashtrays and lighters, and then stopped—cold turkey. They decided that every time one or the other had a craving for a cigarette they would kiss, instead. They spent three weeks joined at the hip and did a lot of kissing—a lot. They had a little relapse at six months but got back on track fairly quickly—aided by much more kissing. Today, Jack and Ennis can proudly say they have been non-smokers for 22 years.
The year they both turned forty-five, Jack finally got his tattoo, and Ennis got one too. Jenny, the artist, designed one for each of them, and they both are unusual and striking. For Jack, she designed a stylized "brand" for the Circle E ranch. Jack remembered the day long ago at Don Wroe's cabin when Ennis had said, "I'm branding ya, cowboy." Jack had told Jenny bits and pieces about the day—he didn't want to get too explicit—but did allow that it was one of the happiest days of his life.
"Jenny," he said, "I was in the darkest place you can imagine and that next day was full of light and happiness." Her eventual design reflected all of those components. Jack had wanted to get it tattooed on his collarbone—Ennis's favorite spot—but the tattoo artist had been reluctant to do it right on the bone. They compromised on his upper right arm which had the advantage of being a little bigger than originally planned, showing off more of Jenny's detail.
For her father, she designed a variation on a sun with the words "That's it" in it, although you'd be hard pressed to see the letters. Ennis wanted something that remembered another happy day in their lives and their vow of love and commitment at the crafts fair. It is low on the front of his right hip and really meant for Jack's eyes only, although he did show it to Junior—shyly at first—when she asked to see it. Junior had been stunned at just how beautiful it was. "Jenny designed that?" she asked.
He nodded. "She did."
Junior ran her fingers over it. "That's it," she said, the words slipping out of her mouth unexpectedly.
Ennis smiled at her as he zipped up his pants and kissed her on the forehead. "That's what Jack says every time he touches it." He gave her a wink. "And you should see what happens when he kisses it."
Junior blushed bright red. "Oh, Daddy, please!" she said.
"Gettin' too personal for ya?" he said, with a laugh. "Okay, I'll stop."
Junior smiled. "Well, I was the one who asked to see it," she said. "I should've known I was playing with fire."
For Christmas in 2000, Junior, Jenny, and Bobby all chipped in to buy Jack and Ennis a computer. The children figured this was a good way to stay in touch—especially Junior and Jenny, who live further away and don't see Jack and Ennis as often as Bobby. Jack took to using it like a duck to water, tracking his investments, reading newspapers from around the world, and hanging out in online chat rooms. He even went through one of those obnoxious phases where he was forwarding jokes and sappy poems to everyone he knew, until Junior gently told him that it was driving everyone nuts. Jack took the hint. Ennis is less enthused about the online world but he likes getting email from old friends, especially Tom Lawrence. He has been known to google "gay sex" to see if he can come up with new ideas for fun with Jack—but that's his little secret. Jack thinks everything they do is from Ennis's imagination. If you want to write, you can: their address is LazyLFarm at gmail dot com.
In the fall of 2005, Jack started reading online articles and reviews about a new movie that was coming out in December. "It's about two gay cowboys," he said to Ennis. "It's winning a lot of awards, including first prize at a big film festival in Italy. Wanna go see it?"
"Sure, why not?" said Ennis. "You know I like movies."
Since they knew it would be months before it came to the little theater in Quanah, they decided to make a weekend of it in Dallas. They stayed at the Fairmount, had a delicious dinner at theTexas Land and Cattle Company (Jack likes the T-bone steak, but Ennis prefers the New York strip, medium rare) and went to the 9 pm show at the Magnolia. They held hands throughout the picture in the darkened theater and were transfixed by the story. As the credits rolled and Willie Nelson sang, Jack turned to Ennis. "That could've been us." Ennis nodded. "But we re-wrote the endin'."
"I like our endin' better," said Ennis.
"No shit, Sherlock," laughed Jack. "I ended up dead."
"Yeah, well what 'bout me?" said Ennis. "I prob'ly was gonna die of lung cancer in that fuckin' depressin' trailer."
They left the theater and started walking back to the trolley stop, their transportation back to the hotel. Their collars were pulled up against the wintry evening, stars bright in the sky above them. "One thing they got right," said Jack.
"What was that?" asked Ennis.
"We were a pair of good lookin' bastards," he said, with a laugh.
"We're still good lookin'," said Ennis, leaning over and giving Jack a little squeeze and a hug.
"Yeah, but I'm all gray now," said Jack.
"I don't call it gray, I call it silver," said Ennis, "and I like it." He ruffled Jack's hair. "Look how thick it is, and with yer blue eyes, ya look like a movie star. Least ya ain't goin' bald—silver's okay."
"Yeah, but look at you, En," said Jack, stopping to look at Ennis. "Still blonde, barely any gray. Lucky sonofabitch."
"Good genes, I guess," said Ennis with a wink.
They walked into the hotel and rode the elevator up to their room on the ninth floor, letting themselves in with the plastic card key. As they got undressed and ready for bed, Ennis commented, "One thing I didn't like about that movie—they made ya fat."
"I know," said Jack, patting his abdomen. "I took off that extra 15 pounds our first summer in Quanah, never put 'em back on."
"It's all the exercisin' we've done over the years," said Ennis, with a wink, pulling him in for a kiss.
Jack smiled at him. "I didn't like the moustache, either."
"Shit no," said Ennis. "I've always liked ya clean shaven, y'know that."
They settled in the bed, pulling each other close. "That's one thing I'm glad they didn't show," said Ennis.
"What's that?" said Jack, not following the comment.
"This," said Ennis. "Our personal life. The sex. It's kinda private, I think."
"Yeah," said Jack, "but I bet the audience wanted more. We were hot. That reunion kiss—shit! It got me goin' in the theater."
Ennis smiled at him. "I remember that kiss. It was hot. But guess what?" he said, as he leaned in.
"What?" whispered Jack, feeling Ennis's breath like fire on his face.
"This one's gonna be hotter."
If you happen to be near Quanah this July 4th, you might want to stop in at the Lazy L. Jack and Ennis are going to be having a big party—it's their 30th wedding anniversary, after all.
Their anniversary parties started in 1986. That was the summer when Jenny was getting ready to go to Smith in the fall. She wanted to do something to thank Ennis and her Uncle Jack for their care and love over the course of her difficult year. Ennis had told her the story of their wedding at the crafts fair during their conversation in the tack room. A few weeks later, she asked her father, "Can I tell Junior the story? Or will you? It's such a nice memory, no need to keep it a secret."
Ennis considered that and then agreed with her. "Everyone else in the world has got photo albums and all kinds of shit from their weddins'," he said. "Why not tell people 'bout ours? Yer right, it was nice." Ennis told Junior and Jack and Ennis told Bobby together. Word started to filter out to close friends and before long it seemed like everyone knew of their spiritual wedding witnessed by Sarah the silversmith.
For that first party in 1986, Jenny somehow or another managed to keep it a surprise. The day started as usual, with Jack and Ennis watching the parade and then taking a swim in the river. In the mid-afternoon, Junior arrived from Boulder and Bobby drove over from Childress. "Sweetheart," said Ennis, not expecting Junior's visit, "what are you doing here?"
"Ask Jenny," said Junior with a smile. "It's her surprise."
"I'm throwin' you a party—Daddy and Uncle Jack," she said, hugging them both in turn. "A thank you from me and a celebration of your tenth anniversary."
She had arranged for platters of sandwiches and a variety of salads, and a small sheet cake that said "Happy Anniversary." As a special present, she and Junior had commissioned Sarah in Albuquerque to make two bracelets—one for Jack and one for Ennis—that complimented their rings. Jack and Ennis were totally overwhelmed with the party and the gifts as they never expected such a thing.
Since then, a party has become a tradition for the fifth year anniversaries: fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five. Word is out that this year will be especially memorable. Jack and Ennis are taking a bit different approach this time and are planning a fund-raiser for the local hospice—the same one that took care of Hal. They are having a chili cookoff with an entry fee of $25, and Jack and Ennis have decided to match all funds raised. All of their children and grandchildren will be there, plus their friends and neighbors from Quanah. Lureen is even considering coming up from Corpus Christi—she makes a mean chili and thinks she might have a shot at first prize.
The parade is at ten and after that, they'll be swimming in the river—that part is private, though. The cook off starts at three. Jack is making Cincinnati chili with spaghetti and Ennis just gets to sit back and be the judge. If you have the entry fee in your pocket…think about stopping by. I'll be there—I know it will be a good time. And, best of all—Jack and Ennis—they want t'meet ya.
Author's Note: For an authentic downeast dining experience, consider dinner at Eaton's Lobster Pool, Blastow's Cove, Little Deer Isle, Maine; 207-348-2383. Open evenings, May 1 through October 31.