Luke Walcott may have finally come out of the closet, but that doesn't mean there aren't shadows still lurking in the corners of his past.
Luke has never been happier now that his relationship with Derek is out in the open and their small Southern town has accepted them for who they are. But in an effort to get away from the commotion that arose after their relationship was revealed, Derek and Luke head to New York City for a well-deserved break. Little do they know that turmoil is waiting for them in those steamy city streets--and it will test the strength of their love.
This Fire Inside is the delightfully entertaining third installment of the Home Is a Fire series and invites readers back into the heartfelt world of Derek, Luke, Uncle Barry, and the Southern charms that shaped them all. Written with wit and warmth, This Fire Inside inspires readers to re-examine their own personal journeys.
As Derek and Luke find themselves redefining who they are together and what they might want apart, both men must fight for their own authentic truths. But through these trials, will their love survive? Will Derek and Luke find their happily ever after?
School was out and so were we. Literally. Somehow my super-closeted football coach boyfriend had decided to take the leap and publicly declare his love for me, his fellow Parkville High School staff member. The reaction from the community was swift, and decidedly unfriendly. Even worse, his sister Lana, along with his former high school sweetheart Amber and her son Jett, had been at the forefront of an intense reactionary campaign against us. Thankfully our other family members and friends rallied to our defense, but it took a few backroom deals and surprise revelations to tie up all the loose ends. Ultimately we were able to keep our jobs, but was that what we really wanted? I was pretty sure I didn’t, after the way we had been treated.
Luke and had I talked to each other about leaving the school, and we decided to look for other options. My Uncle Barry’s friend, Lloyd Barton, had let it slip that he was considering selling his catering company, Lloyd’s. He was tired of the hard work and he wanted to spend his twilight years playing around, like his pals in the Bears’ Club. He asked Uncle Barry if he wanted to buy the whole thing as a turnkey business, but Barry was enjoying his own retirement, so he passed. Lloyd then suggested that Luke and I might like to try our hands at something new. It was an easy decision for me to quit teaching, but it was harder for Luke to walk away from coaching. Instead of saying yes or no right away, we decided to splurge on a summer trip to New York to clear our minds and get back to the question at hand when we returned. We went ahead and set up a meeting with Lloyd in two weeks. It wouldn’t hurt to get all the details before we said no, right?
Luke’s place…I mean, our place…was located near the university campus. A hidden gem in a sea of run-down Victorians, it had somehow escaped the wrecking ball that had turned so many colorful dollhouses into concrete parking structures and mini marts. It was home for now, and we were both working hard to make it a place that felt just as comfortable to me as it did to him.
To a Southerner, home is everything. When I came back to Parkville from my decade-long adventure in New York, I moved back in with my mom, Audrey, and her brother, my Uncle Barry. When my long-lost dad, Johnny, reappeared and swept her off her feet again, she moved in with him, and we all hoped their relationship would last this time. My uncle didn’t react well at first, but now that Mom has fully settled in at Casa de Johnny, Barry has taken the opportunity to turn Mom’s old place into the gay bachelor palace of his dreams. Did I mention that he finally came out after 60?
I pulled my old junker into Barry’s driveway and took a look at the chaos. Lovingly nicknamed Willie Nelson thanks to the “Honk if you love Willie Nelson” sticker Mom had placed on its bumper years ago, my car was the least out of place thing here. The men from the local construction crew milled about with Styrofoam coffee cups in hand, walking between well-ordered stacks of lumber and bricks. There was even a small bulldozer parked in the yard. Barry, this isn’t a teardown. What are you doing?
I stepped out of the car and walked up the small, wobbling wooden gangplank that led into the house, using my hands to part the thick sheets of plastic in front of me. My friend Tommy, clipboard in hand, gave me a quick nod as he directed a small group of men. I’m glad he was here to act as the foreman of this circus and to keep Barry on track. They were definitely in the mid-demolition phase.
“Barry?” I called out. “Where are you?”
“Over here, Dolly!” he answered. I was rarely “Derek” to my Uncle Barry. He preferred “Dolly” or “nephew” or even “kid.” I took this as a sign of love; especially coming from a man who called himself “Beret” while he was lip-syncing show tunes in sparkly drag gowns at the Bears’ Club downtown.
“Watch your step, kid. They’re taking this wall down today.” He walked over and gave me a hug, and then handed me a plastic construction helmet to wear. His headgear was bedazzled of course, but this simple yellow plastic one would just have to do for me. “This house has never seen so much action. Just wait till we’re done! Ha! Come on. Let’s take a walk out to the front. It’s pretty safe out there.”
We stepped gingerly over a few two-by-fours and walked out onto the front porch. He pulled the glass door tight to silence the noise from inside, and the screen door shut itself, squeaking softly along the way.
“I thought you were just putting in a hot tub?” I said, staring amazed at the chaos.
“Oh, you know me, Dolly. Diamonds and sequins on feathers. Once I started I couldn’t stop. When your mom moved out I realized that I finally had the chance to make something of my own. I feel invigorated. The bitch is back!”
I had to laugh. Barry’s coming out wasn’t a major surprise, but he was embracing it with full gusto after he had seen Luke and me survive the town pitchforks. His generation may have led the way historically, but now he had some catching up to do, and he was tackling it with all the glitter he could find.
“So,” he started, excitedly, “first I was just going to put in a hot tub, but then I sat down with Tommy, and things just kind of escalated. We’re taking down the dining room wall and making more of an open plan layout here on the first floor. The kitchen will flow into the living room and eating area. Better for entertaining, you know? This happy gal plans on throwing a few parties! Then Tommy suggested opening up the room a bit more by putting in a double sliding glass door to the terrace. Great idea, right?! The hot tub will go over to the left on an extended deck. We’re putting in a line of tall shrubs to create a little privacy hedge, if you catch my drift. We’ll have a fire pit, grilling station, the whole enchilada. I’m so excited!”
“Do you have the money for this?” I asked.
“Well, your Aunt Janey and I always were good with our finances. We saved up a healthy nest egg for our retirement. After she passed, I had enough saved for two, and well, now there’s just me. I’m pretty sure she’d like me to have some fun.” He didn’t speak with an air of sadness. It was honest, and he was right. Janey would be pleased with the new Barry.
“It sounds great and I can’t wait to see it,” I said, reassuring him. “Listen, I came over to ask a favor. Is it all right if I borrow that designer duffel bag I brought you from Chinatown? Luke just has gym bags and they won’t let me back into New York City with one of those. I’m afraid they may even have velvet ropes at the airport now.”
“Even if they did they’d still let you in, kid. You’ve got that look on your face that says step aside. I know what I’m doing. You always have. And I have no idea where you got that,” he said, winking. “Come on. The duffel is in my old room.”
We made our way back through the maze of plastic tarps and sheetrock and up the stairs into Barry’s former bedroom. He dramatically flung open the double doors to his closet while I removed my construction hat and sat on his bed, watching the show. This was a free ticket, and no matter how many times I had seen it, I loved it, every time.
“Now, let’s see,” he said, pushing his way through a sea of sequined gowns, “I just used that bag the other day. Oh, yes! Here we go.” He opened the faux leather duffel, emptied it of a few brassieres and a pair of shiny red patent heels, and then handed it over. “Good as new! And I expect that back, by the way. Actually, I could use a new tote bag, too, if you happen to see one.” He grinned.
“No problem,” I said, smiling. “If I can still find my sources. I’ve heard Chinatown isn’t the same since I left. I’m afraid a lot of New York won’t be the same.”
“Do your best, nephew. No worries. Oh, you’re gonna have a blast,” he assured me. He sat next to me on the bed and carefully placed his sparkly helmet beside him. “And Luke will love it. Help him come out of his shell, a bit. I think you’ll be surprised.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. Luke had spent his whole life here in Parkville. He was the local football hero turned coach, with a secret that he couldn’t share, until I showed up and turned his head. He had a lot of amazing qualities, but I like to think that I brought out his best side.
“Yeah, that’s true. Luke’s knowledge of gay bars includes Bottom’s Up, and that’s it. We haven’t even trekked down to Atlanta for a weekend. He’s barely been exposed to anything.”
“Well, watch out for him, then,” he counseled me. “That country hunk of yours is bound to attract some attention, wanted or not.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I’m taking him to some of my favorite old haunts. If they’re still there, that is. It seems each consecutive mayor of New York decides to ‘revitalize’ more and more of the seedier parts of town that I loved so much. CBGB is now a designer clothing store and Mars Bar is a bank. Punk is dead, long live punk.” I flipped my middle finger into the air in a mock salute and stuck out my tongue.
“Who are you trying to kid, kid? You were never punk. Spunky, sure, but punk?”
“Hey, gimme a break! I saw some things,” I said, defensively. “Maybe I didn’t do as much as I wanted to, but I definitely observed.”
“That’ll make a great headstone.”
“Well, at least I left Parkville for a few years.” I knew he was just teasing me, but sometimes I did feel a bit defeated, considering I eventually left the city of my dreams to return to the scene of my fumbling youth. “I’m so happy I lived in New York. I needed that time away, you know?”
“Of course you did, Dolly. And I’m proud of you. I wish I’d had the courage to move up there for a few years. My situation was a bit different of course, with Janey.” He grew quiet for a moment as he collected his thoughts, and I could feel his emotions shift. “I’m really glad you stopped by today, actually. Now that I’ve granted you a favor, your fairy god-uncle needs to ask one of his own. You up for it?”
“Sure,” I said, cautiously. You never knew what to expect with Barry.
“I made a few solo trips of my own up to New York back in the ‘80s, you know. I had a buddy there I used to visit. Just a friend, nothing more, so don’t give me those eyes. But we did have some crazy nights together. He did drag, of course. I guess you could say he was my inspiration.” He paused, and then launched directly to his request. “I was wondering if you could look him up for me? We lost touch years ago. We were friends before e-mail and cell phones and all that social media hoopla that you’re into. Back then, we actually met people. In person. And if you said you’d be there, well you actually showed up. Crazy, I know. Anyway, it was one of those interminably hot summer months. Janey and Mabel were going to spend a week in Florida so I decided to take a bus up to New York for a few days, on my own. Some me time, you know? It took forever. I think we stopped in every podunk town along the way. When the bus pulled into Port Authority I could just feel the electricity in the air. It was early in the morning but the city was just buzzing with life. I got my bearings and walked down a few blocks and over a few avenues and checked myself right into the Hotel Chelsea. I had seen Lance Loud on that American Family documentary on PBS and I was kind of hoping I would run into him, if you want to know the truth. I never did, though. Can you imagine?! Ha! I could have had a totally different life.”
He shifted his body on the bed and used the palms of his hands to smooth his trousers. Uncle Barry had lived through some amazing times. My respect for him grew every day of every year, and definitely with every new story.
“I spent the day exploring the town, and then came home to clean up for my nighttime adventures. I was alone in the city, after all. Far from home, with no prying eyes from Parkville. I was free to be me and to have some fun, with Janey’s approval, of course. AIDS was ravaging New York City at the time, but I was informed enough to make smart decisions. At least, the best decisions I could with the limited information that we had then. Those were scary times. Anyway, I had freshened up and I was just stepping out of my room at the Chelsea to go dancing when I bumped into Charlie in the hallway. He smiled. I smiled. And, well, you know how it goes, Dolly. We theatre folk just seem to find one another. He asked if I was alone and I said yes, and before I knew it, we were running down the stairs to catch a cab to the Village. He took me everywhere. Places I’d never seen and things I could never have imagined even existed. Midtown, downtown, discos, the bathhouses! It was a different scene then. Trust me. We stayed out until five in the morning, only coming home to nap for a few hours and then we went out and started all over again. You know how it goes. Charlie performed in drag on the weekends so I tagged along to see his shows. He had real star power. Such a following! Young boys just threw themselves at him. Ha! His female illusion was just tops. The best. He had gowns and sparkles and heels. And the wigs! Oh! His room at the Chelsea was just chock-full of fantasy. He was really living his life to the fullest. Charlie took advantage of everything that city had to offer, and he loved every minute of it. Even better, kid, he was out. Out and proud, out. I have to admit, I was so jealous of him, and I couldn’t help but wish that I could do the same. But some things just weren’t meant be, at least not in the same timeline. My moment came later, of course. Hell, I didn’t even come out officially until this year. But here’s the thing. That queen showed me what I could be. Who I could be. He was my goal and my inspiration…and then I lost him. I just know he went on to do great things. I do.” He turned to look at me, very seriously. “So you think you can find him for me, Dolly? I can’t even imagine the exciting life he is leading now, after all these years. I just need to know what he has done with his amazing gifts.”
“Absolutely, Uncle Barry. I’d be honored. Charlie, right?” I made a mental note. “Do you have any other info on him? His last name? He can’t still be living at the Chelsea?”
“Oh, sorry, nephew. I don’t know why I did that. Old habits. I met him as Barry, not Beret, so my pronouns are all messed up. I don’t think you can find him. But you’ll definitely find her. He never went by Charlie. She was fabulous, after all. I’m sure you’ll be able to find her. Just go to the best clubs and ask around for me? There must be someone who knows the amazing Chinois Zarée.”
Jordan Nasser left his dream job behind and took the opportunity to re-examine his life—an experience he highly recommends if you ever have the chance. A graduate of the University of Tennessee, he was raised in the South before moving to New York City. He currently lives and writes in Stockholm, Sweden and Nice, France.
, he drew upon his experiences growing up in the South. Outstanding reviews placed the book on the Amazon top ten rated LGBT fiction list. That story continues in his second novel,
The author is going away eBook (Kindle) copies of the first two books in the Home is a Fire series to one lucky person-- (Book #1) Home is a Fire & (Book #2) The Fire Went Wild
