Kyle - Part 3 (#5)

Chapter 1

(Kevin's Perspective)
       We beat Gene, Rita, and George home by a good half hour on Christmas Eve. We had a great trip, and I think all of us were tired from laughing as much as we had.
       We unloaded all of our stuff, including the very large cooler of food from the party my mom had sent home with us, and we got ready for a nice at-home family evening. The other car load pulled up around six. I expected them to go home for at least a little while, but they didn't. They came into our house like they were ready to stay.
       "Midnight" Mass was at nine o'clock. That was one of Jerry's innovations, and it worked for us. We all went, and his homily that night was about the Incarnation of Jesus and it's implications for Christian community. He looked at us a lot while he was talking, and I knew he had our family in mind. He talked about acceptance of others, being non-judgmental, and loving everyone who presented themselves in our lives.
       "Jerry is talking about you guys. About us," Kyle whispered to Rick and me.
       "I know. Shut the fuck up and listen to him," Rick said.
       "Ohhhhhh, you said 'fuck' in church. Your ass is gonna fry in hell, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, shut up and listen to him," I said. "He's talking about us."
       "I know. I've heard it before, remember," he said.
       "Yeah, I know. But I want to hear it again, so shut up," I said.
       He was quiet after that. I knew he was still excited from the trip and excited about the fun we would soon be having. Rick looked at me and grinned, and I knew he was amused with Kyle's antics.
       Back home, after Mass, Jerry, Pat, and Father Larson joined us. Rick had made some hors d'ouevres after we had gotten home that afternoon. They were simple things, like a cheese ball with crackers, raw vegetables with a creamy dip, and a tray of sliced summer sausage with crackers. He put out a bowl of pickled okra and a bowl of peanuts. Rick made the drinks, too, and he did his evil-twin-Craig imitation as far as the boys were concerned.
       Father Larson, or Tony as he told us to call him, was a nice man. He was around 40 and somewhat quiet. He was interested in our trip to New Orleans, so we regaled him with stories of that.
       "Kyle, did you save those slide shows you and Tim made," I asked.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said.
       I got out my laptop from work and he set it up. He had all of his slide shows on a couple of zip disks, and he put the first one in the machine to show the slides. We enjoyed watching them.
       Kyle did something that was sort of out of character for him. He got on the sofa next to his mom and snuggled up with her. She put her arm around him like she was protecting him or something. I knew she was thinking about Clay and was missing him at that moment. She needed to hold her boy right then, and I was glad Kyle did what he did.
       Jerry, Pat, and Tony didn't stay very long. In fact, they left by 11:30. The household agreed that we would assemble at nine the next morning in the den around the Christmas tree, and we all went to bed, tired and happy.
       * * *
       Rick and I woke up at 6:30 on Christmas morning. He kissed me good morning and wished me a Merry Christmas.
       "I'm going to get up and run, okay, Babe," he said. "I'll be back in an hour or so, okay?"
       I kissed him.
       "Have a good one, Baby," I said. He hadn't run since the day before we left for New Orleans, and I knew he was probably hurting from not giving his body the dose of endorphins it had come to depend on.
       I dozed a little. It was warm and comfortable in bed, and I could faintly detect Rick's aroma on his pillow beside me. I hugged it to me for a little while. Before long, I became aware of my very full bladder, so I got up to empty it. I went ahead and jumped in the shower, got dressed, and went out into the public part of the house. I suddenly remembered the pool table and the weight equipment we were supposed to have gotten, so I slipped out the back door to go check on that. It was certainly daylight, but the light still wasn't the full, strong light of day. It was chilly enough for the light jacket I was wearing but not really cold.
       I punched the combination into the lock and opened the cabana. It had a sort of sour odor from the local paper mill. I propped the door open to let some fresh air in, and then I opened a couple of windows, too. The pool table was right where it was supposed to be, and somebody had screwed a rack for the cue sticks to the wall. The ping pong table was there too, folded up and out of the way. I rolled it out to the middle of the room and unfolded it.
       I turned the light on in the weight room, and I was rather amazed at the amount of equipment George and Rita had given us. There were two stationary bicycles, a treadmill, a couple of standard weight benches with a ton of free weights, an ab machine, a pec machine, a delt machine, a machine for doing chin ups, leg lifts, and dips, a machine for doing squats and leg presses, and a bench for doing preacher curls. It was really an impressive array of equipment. The room had mirrors on one whole wall so you could watch yourself work out. There was even a water cooler in the corner.
       After I had finished checking out all of the equipment in the cabana, I went back inside. Kyle and Tim were in the kitchen in just their underwear.
       "Morning, guys," I said brightly. "Merry Christmas."
       They were obviously in a good mood.
       "Merry Christmas, Kevin," they both said. Then Kyle did something he had never done before. He gave me a kiss on the cheek. It surprised me a little.
       "That was nice, Kyle," I said. "Did you catch me under the mistletoe?"
       He laughed his good-natured laugh.
       "No. Kevin, I want to thank you for taking us to New Orleans. We really had a good time."
       "You're welcome, Bubba," I said.
       "Yeah, me, too, Kev," Tim said. "Thank you so much."
       "You're welcome, too, Tim."
       "What were you doing outside," Kyle asked.
       "Just checking on something," I said. "Say, did you forget your parents are here, Kyle?"
       "Huh?"
       "Your mom and dad spent the night here last night, remember," I said.
       "Oh, yeah. We did forget. Let's go get dressed, Tim."
       They went up the back stairs to get dressed. Rick came home after they left the room.
       "Merry Christmas again," he said, and then he kissed me.
       "Did you have a good run?"
       "Kind of slow today. It's amazing how much you lose in just a few days."
       "You probably ought to try to get in at least a short run every day, even when we're traveling," I said.
       "I know. I'll be able to do that in Sarasota, I think," he said.
       "I went out and checked on the stuff in the cabana. You should see the exercise equipment Gene bought. It looks like a gym," I said.
       "Let me get a shower, and then let's go look at it," he said.
       "Okay."
       I poured myself a cup of coffee and went into the den. I plugged in the Christmas tree and went out front to get the newspaper. It was as thin as it ever gets. I sat down to look at it. Kyle and Tim came back down, all dressed for the day.
       "What are we going to do until it's time," Kyle asked.
       "I'm going to read the paper," I said.
       "Can Tim and I go down to my house," Kyle asked.
       "Sure. Just remember to be back by nine," I said.
       "Okay." Then they left.
       Rick came back down, and he got himself some coffee, too. Then he and I walked out back. It was much brighter than it had been earlier.
       "Damn," Rick said when we went into the work out room. "He must have spent a fortune on all this stuff. Man, this is first class."
       "Do you think they'll use it," I asked.
       "I'll use it," he said. "If I can get Kyle interested in using it, the others will because they'll want to be like him. He worked out on the beach last summer, didn't he?"
       "Yeah, he did. I forgot about that. Tim and Justin did, too. Maybe they'll do it, then."
       "Kyle will. I'll make him," Rick said.
       I laughed. "What do you want to bet that if they do use it, they'll want to do it nude," I said.
       "I don't see any problem with that, do you?" Rick was actually serious.
       "No, I don't. As far as I'm concerned, they can stay nude out here, even playing basketball, if they want to. And certainly swimming. We're going to need some furniture for the other room, don't you think?"
       "Yeah. What's in that room now?"
       We walked into the main room of the cabana to check out the furniture. There was a ratty vinyl- covered sofa and a couple of threadbare upholstered easy chairs. There was a coffee table and a card table with four folding chairs.
       "What are you thinking we need," Rick asked.
       "This place would make a great clubhouse sort of thing, you know? What do you have in a clubhouse?"
       "You're right. Probably a couple of game tables, for starters. How about an entertainment center with a TV, stereo, VCR, that kind of stuff?"
       "Yeah, I like that idea. You know, a couple of sofas that can open out into beds wouldn't be a bad idea. I know we've got lots of places to sleep in the house, but the guys might like to have a gang sleepover some time. Or we might, for that matter," I said. "Or maybe an orgy."
       Rick laughed hard.
       "Should we put a computer out here," he asked.
       "Not a bad idea. If Kyle keeps up with his photography, it would be nice to be able to see the pictures during a party or something. It was fun being able to see them every day while we were in New Orleans."
       "Yeah, it was. You know, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to have a washer and dryer out here for towels," Rick said.
       "You're right. I think there's actually a hookup in a little room off one of those bathrooms"
       There were two bathrooms that were accessible both from inside and from outside. The first one we looked in was obviously intended for men, since there were four urinals, in addition to two toilet stalls, and a shower room with four shower heads, two each on opposite walls. It was bigger than I remembered it being. In fact, the whole cabana seemed larger than I remembered. We had only lived in the house a little over a month, and, frankly, I hadn't bothered to even go out to the cabana more than once or twice. The other bathroom had four little rooms with toilets in them and four private shower stalls. Both bathrooms had ten lockers with padlocks. The keys to the padlocks were attached to safety pins, presumably to pin to your bathing suit while you were swimming. I didn't think those pins would get much use with our crowd.
       "This one must be for women," Rick said.
       "No, Baby. They use the urinals," I said. I rubbed his butt. "Are we having a blond moment this morning?"
       He was laughing hard at me and my foolishness.
       "Shut up, shithead," he said through his laughter.
       I opened a door off the ladies' room, and, sure enough, there was the place for the washer and dryer.
       "Here it is," I said.
       The room was actually like a utility room. There was a large sink and a counter with cabinets above and below it. There were wire utility shelves and a small closet that presumably was for brooms.
       "This is a lot nicer than I thought it was," I said.
       "Kevin! Rick! Are you guys out here." It was the voice of Gene.
       We walked into the main room.
       "Hi, Gene. Merry Christmas," we said, more or less in unison.
       "Merry Christmas, guys. Did you check out the equipment?"
       "Absolutely," Rick said. "Gene, man, thank you so much. But you kind of went overboard, don't you think? It's better than the gym I belong to."
       Gene was grinning. He was happy.
       "Rick, once you start buying stuff like that, you just don't know where to stop. Besides, it only cost about half as much as I thought it would. Do you like it?"
       "Do we like it," I asked. "We love it, man. Are you kidding?"
       "I can't wait to see the reaction of the kids," he said. What he meant was, I can't wait to see Kyle's reaction, and we knew from previous experience that Kyle knew how to carry on appropriately when he received a gift.
       "Is everybody up," I asked.
       "Pretty much, I think. We had said nine o'clock, but..."
       "But that was totally arbitrary," Rick said. "If everybody's ready, there's no point in waiting. I need to put breakfast casseroles and a pastry in the oven, and that needs to cook for about an hour. Let's go."
       * * *
       When we walked into the den, we were greeted with a chorus of "Merry Christmas" from everybody. They were all there, and they all seemed pretty excited. There was a fire going in the fireplace, but I also noticed they had a couple of windows open to let in some cooler air so it wouldn't get too hot. The room was very cozy.
       "Is everybody ready for Christmas," Rick asked.
       "Yeah," the boys all shouted.
       "Does anybody need coffee or egg nog or anything else before we start."
       "Rick, I haven't had any egg nog in years. I would love a cup, if that's not too much trouble," Rita said. George said he would like some, too.
       "I'm afraid it's store-bought and not homemade," Rick said.
       "Rick, that is my favorite kind," Rita said. "I find the homemade kind rather watery."
       "Any of you guys for egg nog," he asked.
       "What does it come with," Justin asked in a completely innocent voice.
       "It doesn't come with anything, you little elf," Rick said.
       Rick, the five boys, and I burst out laughing.
       "I'm afraid I don't get the joke," Rita said.
       "Mamma, you don't want to get this joke," Kyle said, still laughing.
       "It's kind of a fam...a thing with us," I said.
       "You started to say 'family,' Kevin, and this is your family. And thank you so much for making Gene and me and George a part of it," Rita said.
       "I'd certainly drink to that, if I had something to drink," George said. He smiled a smug smile, proud of his witticism.
       "Point well made, George. I'll bring out coffee and egg nog and mugs, and you can help yourselves. Give me a hand, stud," Rick said.
       Kyle and Justin both leaped up.
       He chuckled. "Okay, then. Give me a hand, studs," Rick said. George and Gene laughed.
       It took about five minutes for them to get the refreshments, but they also brought in a couple of trays of pastries that had been part of the party leftovers we had brought home the day before. When I saw the heaping trays, I thought the boys might eat too much and ruin their appetites for brunch. Rick makes great brunch casseroles, and I wanted the boys to enjoy them. Then I thought, Kevin!!! They could eat twice that much and still have room for a whole casserole each!
       "Brian, you did a good job giving out the presents in New Orleans. How about doing that again, would you, buddy," I asked.
       "Sure," Brian said.
       Brian was cute scampering around giving out the presents. By then I had forgotten how many we were supposed to get by the rules I had promulgated. As it turned out, everybody ended up with three presents.
       We took turns opening gifts. When it was Justin's turn, all eyes were on him.
       "Open the smallest one first," Kyle said.
       Jus picked up a present to open it.
       "No. The other smallest one," Kyle said.
       Everybody laughed.
       Justin opened his "other smallest" gift, and it was from Brian. It was a gold neck chain, and Justin had a fit over it. He hadn't had any gold jewelry before then. Rick, Tim, Kyle, and I had the gold ankle bracelets the boys had given us and each other for Easter earlier that year. Kyle also had the gold ID bracelet that Tim had given him for his birthday. Jus kissed Brian, and then put the necklace on. There were tears in Justin's eyes but a bright grin on his face. Brian was happy, too.
       The next gift Jus opened was the "other smallest one" from Tim and Kyle, and, yes, it was a pack of condoms. His third gift was also from Tim and Kyle, and it was a carton of cigarettes. Justin went crazy. He was laughing as hard as I'd ever seen him laugh. He jumped up and ran over to Tim and Kyle. They stood up from their places on the floor, and the three brothers hugged one another, dancing up and down.
       Rita, Gene, and George were definitely puzzled, and I could tell they rather questioned the appropriateness of Justin's gifts.
       "Jus, tell everybody why you reacted the way you did just now," Rick said.
       "It's a long and kinda ugly story," he said, "but the bottom line to it is this is all that I got last year for Christmas," he said, holding up the pack of condoms and the cigarettes. "Kyle, I thought you said you were going to put them under my pillow."
       "I tried, Bubba, but the door was locked this morning," Kyle said.
       "I love you, Kyle. You know that, don't you," Jus said.
       "Yeah, and you know the other part," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, you and Tim just showed me that," Jus said.
       Rita had tears in her eyes. I suppose in some ways, Justin had replaced Clay as Kyle's living brother. Certainly the affection between Jus and Kyle was that of two very close blood brothers, and it showed. Jeff was up next, and I knew that was going to be a weep-a-thon when he opened his gift from Clay, via Kyle. I decided we needed a break.
       "Why don't we stop for a few minutes so everybody can go to the bathroom," I said.
       "Good idea," Rick said. He gathered up the pots of coffee and egg nog to replenish them.
       Justin opened his carton of cigarettes and took out a pack. "Let's go outside, Bubba," he said to Kyle. Kyle grinned and got up to go with him.
       I went into the kitchen with Rick.
       "Is Rita going to make it through the gift from Clay to Jeff," I asked him.
       "Your guess is as good as mine. She was really moved by what Kyle did for Jus, wasn't she?"
       "Yeah. I say we prepare for a fucking breakdown."
       "I know. What are we going to do," Rick asked.
       "Well, at least they'll be happy tears, I guess," I said.
       "No question about that. Do you think we should say something to Gene," Rick asked.
       "That's probably a good idea," I said.
       I went into the den and asked Gene to join us in the kitchen. The stuff in the ovens was done, and Rick turned them off and took it all out.
       "Gene, we wanted to give you a head's up on what's about to happen. Jeff is going to open his gifts next, and there's one there from Clay. Actually, it's from Kyle, acting as Clay's representative," Rick said.
       "What is it," Gene asked.
       "It's a shadow box, and it's really beautiful. It has Clay's Boy Scout ring, his Eagle badge, all of his merit badges, and his picture," I said.
       "Oh, my God," Gene said. He got huge tears in his eyes. "All of that meant so much to him."
       "And I think Kyle wrote a poem or a letter or something to go with it, Gene. It's to Jeff from Clay," Rick said.
       Gene was biting his bottom lip.
       "Guys, I'm about to be a basket case right now, but I'm much more happy than I am sad. Kyle is too much, isn't he? How did he think of that?" Gene wiped his eyes with his fingers, and he took several deep breaths. "Rita will cry, and Jeff will cry," he said.
       "All of us are going to cry, Gene," Rick said.
       "I know. But it will be a huge step forward for us, guys, and we need this. Did either of you see what Kyle wrote?"
       "Yes, Gene, and it's magnificent," I said.
       Gene stepped over to the sink and washed his face. Rick handed him a paper towel to dry off. Rick and I did the same thing, and then we went out to the den.
       "Okay, Jeff. You're up, buddy. It looks like you've got three strikes," I said.
       "When I saw him, he had three balls," Justin said.
       Rita was the first to react to that, and she laughed out loud. Jeff reacted by laughing and ripping a stick-on bow off one of his gifts and throwing it at Jus. Jus caught it and put it in his mouth, which only made us laugh more.
       Jeff's first gift was from Rick and me. It was a toy car with a gift certificate for a car wash.
       "He needs that," Kyle said. "His car smells like ass."
       Rick laughed hard at that one, but the rest just chuckled politely.
       His second gift was from Gene and Rita, and it was a leather-bound copy of Charles Dickens' novel Great Expectations. Jeff was clearly appreciative of the gift, but it was also clear he didn't understand it.
       "Look at the bookmark," Gene said.
       Something was sticking out from the middle of the book, and it looked like a check. Jeff opened the book to the bookmark, and his eyes got the size of saucers when he read what was written on the bookmark.
       "Oh, Gene. Mr. Goodson. I can't...."
       "Oh, yes, you can, and, yes, you will cash it, Jeff. It's your company bonus. These guys got a Christmas bonus, too. It's company policy," Gene said.
       Rick and I had each gotten fifteen thousand, and I wondered if that was what Jeff had gotten, too.
       "Mr. Goodson, thank you so much," Jeff said. "I don't know what to say."
       "Take the money and shut up," Kyle said. "They're rich, and you've got another present to open."
       "I'm rich, too, now," Jeff said. "Who's it from? It doesn't say."
       "Open it and see, man," Kyle said.
       Jeff opened the gift slowly. I was on pins and needles, and I knew Rick, Kyle, and the other boys were, too. We had all seen it when Kyle got it from the framer.
       "Oh, my God!! Oh, my God!!" Jeff said. "This is unbelievable. Who did this?"
       "Read the letter," Kyle said.
       Jeff started reading the letter silently, but he broke down.
       "Give it to me. I'll read it," Kyle said.
       "My beloved," Kyle started, "this shadow box contains many of the triumphs of my youth. These were awards for hard work and diligence, and they represented my best self at the time. And then, still in my youth, I met you. All of these things, which had once been so important to me, suddenly meant nothing compared to you. At one time, merit badges and the rank of Eagle were everything to me. They consumed all of my thought and all of my time. I put those things aside the moment I met you. I have never thought of them since. I have only thought of you.
       "I'm not gone, Jeff. I'm there with you and with my parents and with my brother. Love does not die.
       "Yours forever,
       "Clay."
       "He is here with us, isn't he," Rita said. "Love does not die. My son is here. Clay is here with us, isn't he?" She was crying, but she was also smiling.
       Jeff grabbed Kyle.
       "Thank you so much. How can I ever say thanks for that?"
       "Thank you for loving my brother and making him happy, Jeff. He's here with us now, and he's happy," Kyle said.
       "You're right, Kyle. You are so right. Thank you so much."
       Justin, ever the pragmatist, got up, went to the stereo, and put on his favorite song, "I've Got Friends in Low Places." He walked over to Jeff and pulled him up off the floor. In a second they were dancing. Kyle pulled his mom up, and they started dancing. The rest of us grabbed partners, too. When the song finished, Justin pressed "replay," and we did it again, only that time we all sang it. Everybody knew the words, and it was the perfect transition into the rest of the day. We kept playing that song over and over, and we danced away the tears.
       "Let's do the stockings," Kyle said. He got them and gave everybody theirs. "Let's don't take turns, okay?"
       We agreed, but we were all eager to see what people were able to come up with for two dollars or less. There were lots of single handkerchiefs and pairs of socks. Somebody had busted out with water guns. The smokers all got cheap plastic lighters, and everybody, including Rita, got a disposable razor. We all got homemade CD's. Mine had a note on it in Kyle's handwriting that said "Look at this with Rick before you let anybody else see it." I looked at Rick's, and his had the same message on it. When I looked at Kyle, he winked at me so I figured there were monkeyshines involved with that. There were lots of other little things, and all of them were fairly useful. Apparently everybody had figured out that you could buy a box of cheap pens, say, for ten bucks and give everybody one each and stay under the limit. The stockings were fun, and I was glad we had decided to do that.
       * * *
       The brunch casseroles Rick had made were delicious. There were three different kinds. It was basically the same recipe made with ham, sausage, and chunks of beef steak. They were made with slices of bread for the bottom crust, then an egg and meat mixture, then they were topped with sharp cheddar cheese. They had the consistency of quiche We had a bowl of cheese grits, a bowl of curried fruit, and a platter of bread, half biscuits and half corn bread.
       "These casseroles are all wonderful, but I like the sausage one the best," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, you would, stud," Justin said, in total deadpan.
       Rita was the first to laugh at that joke, and everyone else did, too, once they knew it was all right to laugh.
       "You got me last there, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, I think you and Justin are good friends," Rita said.
       "He's better than my friend, Mamma. He's my brother now."
       Justin had no idea of the implications that statement by Kyle would have for the rest of his life, but I did. I knew that the Goodsons, with their many millions, would see to it that Justin had money. He would have to work, of course, just as Kyle would, but Justin would never be without means. Kyle was already a multi-millionaire, even if the business went bankrupt tomorrow, but Kyle would be expected to work in the business, too. So would Jus, but it would always be there for him.
       After we had finished eating, Kyle said, "I thought somebody said something about some big presents for us."
       "Yeah, there are some more presents," I said.
       "Let's do them," Gene said.
       "Get jackets, guys," I said. They were all wearing their short sleeve "Crew of The Clay" shirts, and it was in the mid-fifties outside.
       "Where are we going," Kyle asked.
       "Outside to the back yard," I said to him.
       "Did y'all get us another boat," he said excitedly.
       "Wait and see, dude," I said.
       We all marched out to the cabana. I pressed in the numbers on the cipher lock, and I held open the door for them. Rick led the crowd in.
       "Le Pool Table," he said in fractured French.
       The kids burst into cheers.
       "Kevin, Rick, Dad, Mom. This is so good, y'all. I love pool. I'm totally encaptured," he said.
       "Do you mean 'enraptured,'" Rick asked.
       "Yeah, whatever the word is. I'm totally that. And that's a ping pong table, too. Is that part of the present? I love ping pong," he said. "Mom and Dad, thank you so much!"
       "Son, these are the gifts from Kevin and Rick. These and the basketball goal outside," Gene said.
       Kyle, as the spokesman for the boys, grabbed us.
       "This is too much, guys. You got my three favorite things right in a row. Thank you so much."
       Kyle kissed each of us on the cheek. That was my second-ever kiss from Kyle, and I felt pretty sure it was Rick's first.
       Justin and Jeff were already shooting a game of pool.
       "Who wants to lose at ping pong," Kyle asked.
       "I'll take your ass on," Rick said.
       I knew they were both athletes, but I had no idea they would be that good at that game. They slammed balls back and forth at one another at speeds that I couldn't keep up with. I knew Kyle could slam a volleyball down Rick's throat if he had to, but I had never seen anybody play ping pong the way they played it. By their third game, the rubber match, all of us were watching. Kyle had an awesome serve wherein he cut the ball so that it bounced just over the net. Rick had wised up to that strategy, though, and he slammed a couple back. Rick slammed his serves hard, and Kyle got about half of them. I had never thought of ping pong as a demanding sport before, but it was that day. Rick won the third game 21-19.
       "I'll be getting your ass next time, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Did you ever play this game before," Rick asked.
       "Asshole," Kyle said.
       Rick laughed.
       "Guys, this isn't all your present," I said.
       "What else is there," Kyle asked excitedly.
       "Do you see that room over there," I asked, point in the direction of the work out room. "Go see what's in there."
       Tim and Kyle got to the room before anybody else. One of them switched on the light, and then we heard Kyle let out a shout of excitement. "Whoooooooo! Whoooooooo!"
       "Come see this," he screamed. "You're not going to believe all of this!"
       Gene and Rita were beaming.
       "Mom! Dad! This is fantastic! I can't believe it," he shouted. "Thank you so much!"
       The others were excited, too. Even Justin, who ordinarily didn't express excitement the way the others did, was sort of jumping around. He and Kyle hugged, and then Justin made a muscle for Kyle to admire. Justin had told us more than once that he had been forced to lift weights, and his physique showed it.
       "I'm going to get all of you big and strong like me," Jus said. "Rick, will you help me set up programs for all of them?"
       "I sure will, Bubba," Rick said. "In fact, we can get started today, if you all want to."
       "I do," Kyle said. "I worked out all last summer, and I'm sorry I didn't keep up with it. I need to develop my ping pong muscles."
       Jus said, "I'm going to need you to help me improve in my pool game. In fact, how about right now?"
       "I thought we were going to work out," Kyle said.
       "Can't we do both," Jus asked.
       "Sure," Rick said. "You can't work out in those clothes, though. Go put on some shorts and some better shoes. I'll meet you guys back here in about thirty minutes."
       We all went inside. Rick and I put away the leftovers and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Then we joined the others in the den.
       "What time is your flight, Gene," George asked.
       "Two o'clock," he said. "We probably need to head on home to repack our luggage."
       "I need to be getting on home, too," George said. "I want to call my parents, and I'm supposed to go over to Sonya's house this afternoon. Her sister and her family are visiting, and they want to meet me."
       "Kevin and Rick, I don't think I've ever had more fun in New Orleans, or anywhere, than we had on the trip, and this morning has been wonderful, too," Gene said.
       "I had been worried that I would have trouble getting through the holiday, boys. That's why I insisted on going to New York. It hasn't been easy, but it would have been so much harder without you and your folks," Rita said.
       "Well, it's been wonderful for us, too," I said.
       "This looks like the beginning of a tradition to me," Rick said.
       "It could well become that," George said. "I had a wonderful time, as well, fellows, and I know Tim did. And Kyle."
       They went upstairs to get their things, and then they left. The boys came in all ready to work out.
       "Did you guys tell your parents bye," I asked Tim and Kyle.
       They said they had upstairs.
       "Do you like your stuff, guys," I asked.
       "You guys are too good to us," Kyle said. "I think I can speak for everybody. We love our stuff, big brothers. But we love you all more."
       "We love all of you, too," I said.
       "Are we ready yet," Kyle asked.
       "Let me go change," Rick said. He did, and he and the boys went out to the clubhouse.

Chapter 2

(Justin's Perspective)
       The trip to New Orleans was the best thing I had ever done, and the most fun. Kevin's parents and his brother and sister-in-law were about the nicest people I'd ever known, and I got to know them even better than I had over Thanksgiving. Beth, Kevin's mom, loved me, and I knew it. That fact alone was enough to make my whole year, let alone a vacation.
       It was during that trip that I got over my fear of butt sex. We had bought these tube-shaped things--dildos, Kyle called them--at a gay shop in the French Quarter, and Kyle had showed us how to use them. I was the guinea pig because Brian wanted to know how to do it. Kyle was a boy I could be in serious lust with, but I knew he was taken, and taken good. But, oh, did he ever know how to make that dildo thing feel good in me! When I came, I came so hard I thought I was going to break it off inside me.
       The best thing was, it didn't hurt a bit. The doctor had fixed my ass real good, but I think it also had to do with Kyle's method of doing it. He did it real slow, taking his time. He even licked and kissed and sucked on my hole before he even put his finger in me. Nobody had ever done anything like that to me before, and I think that added to the enjoyment I had. Ole Brian must have gotten an eye full of it, too, because later on that same night we did that stuff again, and Brian did exactly like Kyle had done. I did it to Brian, too, and he got off on it big time. Later on my sweet little angel asked me if I would do it to him again, only using my dick instead of the dildo.
       "I've only ever done it one time," I said. "I don't think I do it very good."
       "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd like to try it, if you would."
       "I don't have any condoms," I said.
       "Do you think Kyle has any," Brian asked.
       "I kind of doubt it. They don't use 'em."
       "Didn't the doctor tell you that you don't have any diseases," he asked.
       We were in bed together having that conversation, and my dick was almost hurting me it was so hard for him. The doc had told me I was completely disease free, but he said it was a good idea to keep on using condoms. I had told him my ass-fucking days were over (not in so many words, of course), but I asked him if he thought it should be a requirement for me. He said, no, not a requirement if I was in a relationship with a guy and neither of us was fucking around on the other one, but it was a good idea, regardless.
       "Brian, I love you, and I want you in every way, Baby, but I'm not going to risk it, even now. But I'll buy some tomorrow, if you still want me to," I said.
       "Yeah, that'll be good. I love you, too, Justin. I really, really do," he said.
       He said it so cute, it almost melted my heart.
       The next day I did buy some condoms, and some lube, too. That afternoon, while we were getting dressed for the party, Brian and I played around. I slipped it to him after I took a long time getting him ready for it. When I had done it that one time with Jason, we were just experimenting so he could see what it felt like. I had come in about thirty seconds after I was in him, though, and it wasn't very good for him.
       "Buddy, jerk me off or suck me off before we do it," I said to Brian that afternoon.
       "Why?"
       "I don't want to shoot as soon as I get inside you," I said.
       "Is that what happened with Jason," he asked.
       "Yeah."
       Brian had developed him some pretty good oral skills, and he put them to work on me that day. I got hard again right away after he did that, which is something I don't ever have a problem doing, and I eased into my boy. I kept a close eye on his face to make sure I wasn't going too fast or hurting him in some way, and all I saw was the look of feel-good.
       That night we were shooting pool with Tim and Kyle at that leather bar, and Brian spoke up.
       "Something happened this afternoon," he said. "Something very special."
       "What was it? Did Justin finally get a hard-on," Kyle asked. He was concentrating on his game but not so hard he couldn't find a way to tease me.
       "He gets 'em all the time, Kyle," Brian said, like he was defending me or something.
       "I know, Buddy. I'm just busting his balls a little bit," Kyle said, laughing at Brian for being so serious. "Hell, he just about lives with one, don't you, stud." He groped me when he said that. I didn't mind, and nobody in there who might have seen it minded, either.
       "This afternoon, we did it," Brian said, "and it was wonderful."
       "You did what," Kyle asked.
       "I made love to him up the butt," I said.
       "Noooo, shitttttt," Kyle said. He shook my hand and shook Brian's hand. "You really are a stud, aren't you, big boy?" Kyle was grinning and laughing all over himself. He seemed really happy for us.
       "It's cool, isn't it," Tim asked. "It didn't hurt, either, did it?"
       "It really didn't," Brian said.
       "So when are you going to take it up yours, or did you do that today, too," Kyle asked me.
       "We didn't have time today, but it'll happen soon. Maybe even tonight. Or tomorrow morning. Or both," I said.
       "So you really are ready for it," Kyle asked me
       I took his hand and put in on the hard bulge in my jeans.
       "Yep, you're ready," he said, laughing. "Let's get the hell out of here so you guys can have some fun. We might need to have us some fun tonight, too. What do you think, Tim?"
       "Don't we every night?"
       "Y'all fuck every night," I asked.
       "Not butt fucking every night, no. We make love some way, though, even if it's just kissing and holding each other," Kyle said.
       "We do that, too," I said.
       "That guy who was talking to Kevin just left," Kyle said. "Let's go see if we can go home."
       We did go home then, and that night I had a dick inside me for the first time in a long time. The big difference was I wanted that one there. And they were all correct in what they had said. It didn't hurt, and it did feel good. Real good.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The kids' reactions to the pool table, the ping pong table, and the exercise equipment were perfect. They were surprised and excited, and they started using them right away. Rick went out there with them as soon as the company left, and he came back inside a little later covered with sweat.
       "Did you get them set up," I asked.
       "Yeah. I'm going to write out an individualized program for each of them, but I basically showed them how to use the various machines. Brian said he had taken weightlifting in middle school," Rick said.
       "What are they doing now," I asked.
       "When I left, they were getting ready to play strip pool," he said.
       "How were they going to play that," I asked.
       "Oh, Kyle had it all figured out. They were going to play Eight Ball, and whenever you scratch, you have to take something off. Considering all they had on was shorts, a jock, and shoes and socks, I don't think it'll take them too long to get naked," he said. "They wanted to put the heat on in the pool, but I told them no because it's too cold for that."
       "Did anybody try out the basketball goal," I asked.
       "Jeff was shooting baskets by himself a few minutes ago. Jeff probably won't turn into a body builder anytime soon," he said.
       "He didn't like it," I asked.
       "Naw. He did it because that's what we were doing, but if Kyle and Jus did three sets of ten reps, Jeff did one set of five," he said.
       "He sounds like me," I said.
       "I know." He chuckled.
       The guys came in around 4:30. They took showers and came back downstairs looking kind of tired.
       "Did you guys have a good day," I asked.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle answered. "Is there any more stuff from breakfast?"
       "Yeah, heat it up, Kyle," Rick said.
       "Okay. I'll heat it all up for whoever wants it," he said.
       He came back in in a few minutes with a plate full of food. The rest of them got up then and went to get food of their own. Rick and I were going to have dinner at some friends' house, so we didn't eat with them.
       "I like the way we did this," Tim said. "When we were at my grandparents' house in Boston for Christmas, we always had a huge dinner. This is better."
       "We've had so much rich food lately, we probably need a rest from it," Rick said. "The friends we're eating with tonight have what they call a Christmas anti-dinner. It's going to be red beans and rice, roast, and salad. That's it. We ate with them last year on Christmas night, and they said they have the same thing every year."
       "I reckon we'll want to stay clear of these two tomorrow, boys," Justin said.
       "Why?" Brian seemed annoyed that Jus would say that.
       "Big plates of red beans? Figure it out, Buddy," he said.
       Kyle let out a loud fart just then for comic effect.
       "See? Just talking about the beans got the stud going," Jus said.
       We all laughed, both at Justin and Kyle.
       "Ok," Kyle said. "Three gay guys are naked in a hot tub, like that one in North Carolina, right?
       "All of a sudden, this big wad of cum comes floating to the surface.
       "They see it and look at one another.
       "'Okay,' one guy says. 'Who farted?'"
       We all laughed, but we knew that was gross.
       "Jesus Christ, Kyle. That's as gross a one as I've ever heard," Rick said.
       "Yeah, except a guy in that hot tub named Rick smashed his head against the head of a guy named Kevin when they both went after it," Justin said.
       Kyle thought that was hilarious, and he and Justin laughed their asses off over it.
       "I've got one more," Kyle said.
       "Is it nasty like that one," I asked.
       "No, sir. It's a good one. You'll like it.
       "This guy goes into a bar with an alligator on a leash. He jumps up on the bar with the gator and says, 'Who in here will buy me a drink if I put my entire package into this gator's mouth without him biting it off?'
       "Everybody said they would buy him a drink, but they thought the guy was crazy.
       "The guy drops trou and puts his dick and balls in the gator's mouth. The gator closes his mouth, and the guy cracks the gator on the head with a beer bottle to get him to open up. The guy comes out of the gator's mouth fine. They all cheer and buy him a drink.
       "A little while later, he jumps back up on the bar and says, 'I'll give a hundred dollars to the next guy who is willing to do the same thing.' Everybody in the place said 'no way.' Then this one guy in the back raises his hand. 'I'll do it,' he said, 'but you have to promise not to hit me in the head with the beer bottle.'"
       Everybody laughed, and Kyle and Tim tapped knuckles over it.
       "That was cute, Kyle," I said.
       "Kyle didn't say it, but the gator's name was Rick," Justin said.
       More laughter.
       "Are the friends coming over tomorrow night," Kyle asked after the jokes had been put to bed.
       "That's the plan," I said. "We're going to grill steaks. Y'all can organize pool and ping pong tournaments, since we won't be able to swim."
       "We can dance," Justin said.
       "True. We'll probably cut the rug," I said.
       They all looked at me with total incomprehension.
       "'Cut the rug' means dance," I said.
       "That comes from cowboy days. They used to dance with their spurs on, and that would tear up a rug," Kyle said.
       "How'd you know that," Rick asked.
       Tim laughed. "He just made it up, Rick."
       "You little shit," Rick said to Kyle, laughing.
       "It makes sense though, doesn't it," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, I guess so," Rick said.
       "What are you guys going to do tonight," I asked.
       Kyle pantomimed shooting pool.
       "Is the table pretty good," I asked. "Is it level and all?"
       "Yeah, it's great," Jus said. "I played on a pool table one time where the felt was so nappy the balls would hardly roll. This one is the total opposite of that. This one is perfect."
       "Rick said you were playing strip pool. Did anybody have to get naked?"
       They all started laughing.
       "Who was it," I asked.
       Kyle raised one finger of his right hand and grinned sheepishly.
       "I thought you were good at pool, stud," Rick said.
       "I thought so, too, until today," he said.
       "Did you have your camera out there," Rick asked.
       "Does he go anywhere without his camera," Tim asked.
       "So we're going to see some pictures of a naked stud, right," Rick asked.
       "Kevin's got to screen them before I do anything with them," he said.
       "I'm sure those are fine, Kyle," I said. "I told you, nudity in a natural setting isn't against the law. It's sexual pictures that are porn, man."
       "Yeah, but he grew his own cue stick, Kevin," Justin said.
       "Shit! Whose side are you on, dude," Kyle asked Jus.
       "I'm on the side of truth, justice, and the American way, Bubba," Jus said.
       "And somebody took pictures of this natural cue stick," I asked.
       "I felt it was my duty," Justin said.
       "I want you to look at those, Kev, and there's one of him I want you to look at, too. It's as cute of him as it can be, but he might be just a little bit hard," Kyle said. "I can crop that out though and just keep his upper body and face. That's what's so cute. That other thing ain't hardly worth looking at, anyway."
       "Your ass is mine, Bubba," Justin said, laughing.
       "Remind us about that tomorrow, okay, Kyle," I said. "Guys, Rick and I need to get going. Are you going to be okay without us?"
       "Naw. Probably not. I'm going to light up the Christmas tree as soon as y'all are out of here, since we missed those bonfires in New Orleans," Justin said. He flicked his lighter when he said that.
       We all laughed.
       "Seriously, guys. Have fun tonight," I said. "We'll see you in the morning, or tomorrow at least."
       "If y'all get hungry later, eat some of that shit left over from the party," Rick said. "Kyle, you're in charge, okay?"
       "What is this? Y'all never put anybody in charge before," Kyle said.
       "I know. We forgot to tell you. This is a new military dictatorship, and we put the biggest prick in charge when we leave. That could only be you, Kyle."
       "You need a more accurate measuring tape, son, if you think that prick is big," Justin said.
       "Shit. Kevin, let's get out of here before the pun-ishment starts for real," Rick said.
       All of us laughed, and Rick and I left to go out.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       Jeff really liked his gift from Clay. I was so happy I thought of doing that. Kevin helped me some with the letter from Clay to Jeff, but it was mostly my words. I can do words; I just can't do numbers too good.
       I loved Jeff because my brother did, but I didn't know him very well. He was kind of a hard guy to get to know. He was kind of quiet, which was okay with me, and he wasn't like the rest of us. But we loved and accepted everybody, so Jeff was right there with the rest of us. I knew he was Clay's Tim, so I loved him for that reason alone, if no other.
       I couldn't believe the presents we all got for Christmas. We basically got a recreation center: the swimming pool was already there; the basketball goal, the pool table, the ping pong table, and that incredible weight room. That on top of my boat for my birthday. I knew my parents had a lot of money, and I knew Kevin and Rick probably did, too. I wasn't naive. I knew I had a lot of money, too. I didn't have any idea how much, but I knew it was a good bit. But that Christmas was totally awesome for us. Usually it was clothes, a couple of books, a few CD's, maybe a bike or a new stereo if we needed those, but my parents had never been extravagant in their gifts before. It might have just been because there were so many of us.
       And, hell, my mom was going on about needing a trip after Christmas because of Clay. We always took a trip after Christmas. It was a custom in our family. Three or four times that I remembered we had gone to Europe for that week or so, but we always took a trip somewhere after Christmas. I was just glad they let me stay home this time. I wanted to hang with Tim and my home boys. Tim and those other guys were my life. They were my family, and I didn't want to go skating in Rockefeller Plaza for the tenth time, or something like that, and see Ground Zero. I hated all that shit that happened there, but I would much rather go with Kevin and Rick and the others to Sarasota. Plus, Tim and I were going to New York in March, anyway.
       Christmas night it was just the five of us boys.
       "Do y'all want to shoot some pool," I asked.
       "Hell, yeah," Justin said.
       "Do y'all want to get drunk," I asked.
       "Hell, yeah," Justin said.
       Justin was turning out to be just like me, more and more. I mean, we liked to do the same things, we both had great boyfriends, we were both pretty good athletes, and we were both the same age and size, more or less. He still had a really thick Alabama accent, which I thought was cute and funny, but he wasn't nearly as country as he was when he first came to us. He had the kind of physique I wanted: strong and muscular without being a body builder.
       Plus, his sense of humor was great. It was real dry. He would say stuff that would have the rest of us doubled over in laughter, and he wouldn't even crack a smile most of the time.
       He was damn good looking, too. He had some crooked teeth in his mouth, but Tim's daddy had already talked to him about that. That Sonya lady that Doc was dating was itching to get her hands on him for those teeth, and I told Jus that a couple of years in braces would be worth it in the long run. I told him he just needed to be careful with Brian when he had all those wires in his mouth. I expected to see some bloody lips on Brian, from time to time. I was just glad Brian didn't have a foreskin like Tim to get caught in the braces.
       "It's going to have to be bourbon and coke, cause that's all I've got," I said.
       "No bourbon and 7-Up," Jus asked.
       "Yeah, that, too," I said, laughing at him.
       "I think I'm going to go upstairs and read," Jeff said. "Kyle, what you did this morning was so incredible, man. Thank you so much. I'll never forget that for the rest of my life."
       "You are most welcome, my brother," I said. "I did it for Clay as much as for you, though. You should know that."
       "I figured as much, and that even makes it better. I forget how close the two of you were, Kyle. Thank you, though. We're brothers for life, right?"
       "Right, Jeff. Absolutely, man," I said. I hugged ole Jeff for the first time, as far as I could remember, and I even gave him a kiss on the cheek.
       The rest of us went out to the clubhouse to shoot pool. I took the bottle of bourbon I had snarked, a liter of coke, a bucket of ice, and four plastic cups. We made drinks as soon as we got out there. Brian didn't want any bourbon, and Tim just wanted a little bit, but I gave it good to me and Justin. I didn't want to get so drunk that I was puking and shit, though. I had done that a time or two, and that was awful. I just wanted to get a pleasant little buzz.
       We played strip pool again, but that time Justin and Tim were the losers, and they started with a hell of a lot more clothes on than I had that afternoon. I kept my jeans on, at least. I was never embarrassed to be naked in front of those guys, but I had been a little bit that afternoon when I was the only naked one and had gotten a boner. Sheesh!
       We shot pool for a long time, and I had a great time. I think Tim and the rest of them did, too.
       "I need a cigrette," Jus finally said.
       "Me, too, but I think you're starting to slur your words a little bit, Bubba."
       "I know. Let's go smoke."
       "You can smoke in here," I said.
       "I know, but let's go outside and get a little fresh air."
       All four of us went outside. Jus and I smoked, but the other boys didn't.
       "I don't think you guys know how wunnerful this has all been for me," Jus said.
       "Yeah, we do. You told us about that, Jus," I said.
       "I know I have, Kyle, but you don't know what it's like to get a whole new life. Kevin wants to make me a manager trainee, man. Do you know what that means?"
       "Not exactly, but I guess he does," I said.
       "Kyle, it means a life for me that I never even dreamed of," I said. "I don't exactly know what it means either, as far as the job, but it might mean I have some kind of future. A year ago, I didn't have a future, man."
       "You might have a very good future, if you stay with Goodson," Kyle said. "I know the owner."
       "Who? You?"
       "Yeah, someday, probably. Eventually. And you know what?"
       "What?"
       "You'll still be my brother. Even then."
       "I hope so," Jus said, "but not for that reason."
       "I know, Bubba. It'll be forever."
       "Kyle, where are those movies you bought on the trip," Brian asked.
       "They're upstairs. I forgot I had those. Do you guys want to watch 'em," I asked.
       "What are they," Justin asked.
       "One is called Frisky Summer, and the other one is An American in Prague. There are some really hot-looking boys on the covers," I said.
       "Go get 'em," Jus said.
       We went inside and I got the movies for us to watch in the den. At one point, I had to get up to get a roll of paper towels from the kitchen. We all needed them.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The boys were all in bed when we got home Christmas night. They had obviously watched movies while we were gone, and the cardboard cases were on the coffee table. There was a partial roll of paper towels on the table, too.
       "What do you reckon they needed these for," Rick asked with a grin, pointing to the towels.
       "Beats me," I said, grinning back.
       We turned off the lights and went to bed.
       * * *
       The next day was pretty leisurely and laid back. We had been very busy for almost a full week, and we all needed some "down" time to rest and re-charge. The kids drifted in and out of the house, and I heard the thump of the basketball off and on all day. At one point, I looked out into the yard and saw two boys I didn't recognize playing basketball with Brian and Tim.
       "Who were those two guys out there with you," I asked them when they came in to get some lunch.
       "Blake and Riley," Tim said.
       "Oh," I said.
       "Blake lives next door. I know him from school. Riley is his friend. He lives around here, too, somewhere. He was at Blake's house," Tim revealed.
       "Are they nice guys," I asked.
       "Uh-huh," he said. "Blake's brother is out there, too, shooting pool with Jus and Kyle."
       "What's his name?" I felt like George, pulling teeth.
       "Morgan. He's a junior," Tim said.
       "What grade are Blake and Riley in," I asked. Come on, Tim, I thought, give me the 411 on these guys.
       "They're freshmen," Tim said.
       "Do you talk to them, Tim?"
       He grinned a quizzical grin. "Yeah. What do you mean," he asked.
       "Nothing. You're just not talking much today," I said.
       "What do you want to talk about?"
       "Never mind. Just eat," I said.
       In about two minutes, Kyle and Justin came inside, with Morgan, Blake, and Riley in tow. They introduced the new boys to me. Morgan and Blake, the brothers, each had a gold loop in their left ear.
       "Get something to eat, guys, if you want," I said.
       Kyle got out a couple of bowls of leftovers from New Orleans and from the day before.
       "This is good shit, guys," Kyle said.
       Morgan looked a little embarrassed that Kyle had said "shit" in front of me, but they didn't comment. They made plates for each of them, and Jus got glasses of ice for soft drinks. They made small talk about pool and what they had gotten for Christmas. Morgan had gotten a car, which the boys all admired. Blake and Riley had gotten smaller, more ordinary gifts.
       "Where's Rick," Jus asked.
       "I don't know. He said he was going to work on individual weight programs for you guys. I guess that's what he's doing," I said.
       They finished eating, and Justin lit up a smoke. The three new boys looked at him in surprise, but he didn't flinch. Nobody said anything, though.
       "Kevin, can I take the boat out this afternoon," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, I don't see why not," I said.
       "You guys want to go out on the boat," he asked Morgan and the others.
       "Yeah, I guess. Where do you want to go," Morgan asked.
       "Just out to the island. I haven't been there yet in that boat," Kyle said. "I just got it last month for my birthday."
       "Sure," Morgan said.
       "You guys stay here and play with us," Tim said to Blake and Riley.
       "My mom wouldn't let me go, anyway," Riley said. "She doesn't know Kyle."
       The older boys went out on Kyle's boat, and the younger ones stayed home to shoot hoops, shoot pool, and play ping pong.
       * * *
       Kyle and Justin got home around five o'clock. It was almost dark.
       "How was the boat trip," I asked.
       Kyle and Jus were both wearing jeans and a short-sleeve polo shirt. Kyle had worn his jeans jacket, and Jus had taken a light jacket, too.
       "Why didn't you tell us it was so cold, Kevin," Kyle asked.
       "Was it cold out there," I asked.
       "Yeah, it was cold," he said.
       "It is wintertime you know, Bubba," Jus said. "I figured you knew what the hell you were doing. You've lived here all your life, man."
       "I know, but I had never been out on that island in the winter, though. It was the wind," Kyle said.
       "Is Morgan a friend of yours, Kyle," I asked.
       "Yeah. They live next door. They just moved in about a week ago, but I know him from school. His dad's company built that house. They had to sell their old house, and they had to live in a trailer while the new one was being built," Kyle said.
       "Is his dad a contractor," I asked.
       "No. He has a construction company," Kyle answered.
       "That's the same thing, dummy," Justin said.
       "Oh. I guess he is, then," Kyle said.
       "What's their last name," I asked.
       "Crawford," Kyle said. "What time is everybody coming over?"
       "Six-thirty. If you guys need a shower, you better go ahead," I said.
       "I took a shower this morning," Kyle said. "Are we having oysters tonight?"
       "Yeah. Are you going to take care of those for us," I asked.
       "That's my job, ain't it?" He grinned. "Let's get some music set up outside, Jus."
       "What are you going to play it on," Jus asked.
       "My boom box, I guess," he said.
       "Rick and I were talking yesterday about setting that up like a clubhouse," I said. "Be thinking about what you want in there, okay?"
       "Cool," they both said.
       They went off to see about the music and the oysters. I went into the kitchen to see if Rick needed any help.
       "Hey," Rick said, when I went into the kitchen.
       "Do you need any help," I asked.
       "I wish Kyle would get home," he said. "He needs to get those oysters on ice."
       "He and Jus are doing that right now," I said.
       "Good. Did they have a good time on the boat?"
       "Yeah, but they said it was cold on the island. Windy," I said.
       "What did they expect at this time of year," Rick asked.
       "I don't know. Kyle is pretty deceptive, in some ways, without meaning to be," I said.
       "What do you mean?"
       "Well, about 80% of the time he seems like a full-grown adult. But then he does something like that. Not taking heavier jackets. And tonight he didn't know that a building contractor is the same thing as somebody who owns a construction company," I said.
       Rick laughed. "I know what you mean. Most of the time you think he's 27. Then, every once in a while, he lets us know he's really only 17."
       "He and Justin have certainly become good friends lately. I really like that," I said.
       "I know. Me, too. He's been really great about taking care of Jeff, too."
       "Yeah, he has. That has made me very proud of him. Jeff's a lucky guy to have those boys as his friends," I said.
       "For sure," Rick said.
       * * *
       The company started coming in around 6:30. Rick had made lots of hors d'ouerves, and, of course, we had the raw oysters for those who liked them. There was lots of music and laughing and fun.
       "Kevin, can Ryan and I show you something," Phillip asked at one point.
       "Sure, guys. Do you want privacy for this," I asked. I could tell they did.
       "Ryan and I gave each other these for Christmas," Philip said. They pulled off their shirts and showed me two brand new tattoos. They were still kind of pink around the ink lines. They were on their left shoulders, and they were of hot air balloons. The colors in the balloons approximated the colors of the gay rainbow flag. Philip's had "Ryan" written underneath it, and Ryan's had "Philip."
       "Those are really cool, guys," I said. "I'm glad you got them high up like that, though."
       "Yeah, a tee shirt covers them," Philip said. "It's really just for us and some select friends, like you and Rick," he said.
       "Have your parents seen them," I asked.
       "Oh, no, sir. No way," Ryan said.
       "Well, you might just want to keep them covered up around your parents, you know? But congratulations, boys. Does this mean 'forever' for you guys?"
       They grinned and laughed and carried on.
       "We knew you'd realize that, Kevin," Philip said. "You're the first one we've showed them to. Not even Kyle yet."
       "He and Tim are going to want them, too," I said.
       "We've talked about tattoos before with them. We know they want 'em, Kev," Philip said.
       "Well, yours are very nice and tasteful," I said. "If they have to have them, they have to have them. I just hope they're as tasteful as yours are."
       "This ink won't ever fade, either," Ryan said.
       Yeah, right!, I thought. Just wait till it's a dark blue mass on your arm.
       "Have fun with those, guys," I said. "They're beautiful pieces of work."
       * * *
       The party headquarters were in the house, but it didn't take much time for everybody to congregate in the clubhouse. There were pool and ping pong tournaments going on, and there were paper charts of the standings posted around the room.
       "Kevin, this clubhouse is incredible, man," Jerry said to me at one point.
       "Yeah, but is there a nicotine stain on his index finger?"
       "What?"
       "You heard me. That's a line from The Music Man, a play," I said.
       "Oh, okay. That's the one about them selling band instruments to a town to combat a pool table, right?"
       "Right. Very good," I said.
       "Did the guys have a good Christmas," Jerry asked. "It sounded like you had a fabulous time in New Orleans when I was here Christmas Eve."
       "We did, Jerry. We had a great time."
       "Gay family matters. Right?"
       "That sounds like a story title, man," I said.
       "Maybe it should be," he said.
       * * *
       We put the party away around one o'clock. The boys were wonderful about helping clean up, as they always were.
       "Turn the alarm on in the clubhouse," I said.
       "How do you do that," Tim asked.
       "I'll show 'em," Rick said. He showed the boys how to set the alarms for both the clubhouse and the regular house. Once we got everything cleaned up, we all went to bed.

Chapter 3

(Rick's Perspective)
       The party with our friends the night after Christmas was a whole lot of fun. The meal part was in the house, but the real party, after we ate, was in the clubhouse. It was all about pool and ping pong, and some of the guys wanted to play HORSE at the basketball goal, too. Justin, Chad, and Gage got a bunch of guys up and dancing, too.
       "Did you ever imagine that combination," Sam asked.
       "What do you mean," I asked.
       "Big macho Justin with Chad and Gage," Sam said. "Look at 'em. It's almost like the three of them are partners, or something."
       "They are partners in having fun, Sam," I said.
       "I know, and I'm so grateful to Jus for having accepted those guys," Sam said.
       "Justin loves to dance, and you have no idea how many times in the last week or two he's told people that his friends Chad and Gage taught him how to dance," I said.
       "Really?"
       "Yeah, really," I said. "He still alludes occasionally to the fact that Chad was wearing makeup the first night he met him, but he loves those guys, Sam. Believe me on this. And he and Kyle will do serious damage to anybody who fucks with them, of that I am convinced."
       Sam just laughed and drifted away, but I was sure that was true.
       Kyle, ever the entrepreneur, set up a table to sell CD's he had made with pictures of everyone who was there, plus some X-rated photos and videos he had gotten from the Internet. He made a sign explaining that the CD's were $5 a piece and that the money would go to the Empty Stocking Fund. He set out the stack of CD's, the sign, and a little wooden box for the money. It was strictly on the honor system.
       Next to his wares he had set up a laptop with a copy of the CD in it so the purchasers could check out his product before they bought it. Several times I noticed two or three guys standing at the machine looking at the pictures.
       "Kyle, those pictures are excellent," Jerry told him. The three of us were standing around talking.
       "Thanks. Did you see the naked ones," he asked devilishly.
       "Not yet. Did you take those, too," Jerry asked.
       "Oh, no sir. Those are from the Internet. Next year I've already decided I'm going to have a ton more pictures of all of us. In fact, I might produce two different CD's, one of us and one of just Internet boys," he said.
       "I think the first one sounds great, but I don't like the idea of the second one," I said.
       "Why not?"
       "Well, it's pornography, Bubba. What you did for us this year is fine, I think, but these are just for our friends here tonight, right? I mean, you're not going to be selling them at school or anything, right?"
       "I wouldn't do that, Rick." He thought for a few minutes. "Okay, I won't do the second kind. I wouldn't have put those pictures on this one except that I didn't have enough of just us to make it worthwhile. Now I'm kind of worried."
       "From the reaction, I think the guys appreciate those, too," Jerry said. "There's nothing to worry about, Kyle."
       "Phew! That's a relief," Kyle said.
       We drifted away after that to find other people to talk with. By the end of the evening, the Empty Stocking Fund for next year was already $100 richer.
       We got up around nine the next morning, and everybody drifted down to the den for coffee and coffee cake that I had made. We would be leaving for Sarasota to see my mom in a little while.
       "Is everybody packed for Christmas Road Trip, Part Two," Kevin asked.
       They said they were.
       "Brian, were you born in Tampa," I asked him.
       "No. I was born in New York. We moved there when I was four. I don't really remember New York, though," Brian said.
       "I was born in New Jersey," Jeff said. "We moved to Ft. Lauderdale when I was eight."
       "Kyle, it looks like you and I are the only native crackers here," I said.
       "Yeah. I'm a nut cracker. How about you? Do you need your nuts cracked?"
       "You're certainly a nut. No question. And, since you were born in Florida, you're a cracker, too. So, yeah, I guess you are a nut cracker," I said.
       "I can sure crack a nut," Kyle said. "Right, Tim?"
       "You guys are confusing me," Tim said.
       "Tim, there are so many layers of puns going on right now, I'm a little confused myself," Kevin said.
       "Do y'all want me to explain it," Kyle asked.
       "No, just sit there, shut up, and look cute," Justin said. "I get it."
       "Guys, we need to get going," I said.
       "Are you excited about this trip, Babe," Kevin asked me.
       "I am very excited. I haven't seen my mom in way too long, and I can't wait for her to meet all of these guys," I said. "It's not every day you get to take a full family home to meet your mother for the first time."
       "Do you think she'll like us," Tim asked.
       "Is the pope a Catholic, Tim," I asked. "She is going to love you guys. It's a different kind of lifestyle there than in New Orleans, but I guarantee you she is going to have a fit when she meets you boys."
       "Do we need to take our suits," Jeff asked.
       I thought for a few seconds. "Good question, Jeff, but nah. You won't need 'em. Go get your stuff now, so we can leave."
       We were on the road in fifteen minutes.
       * * *
       "Did anybody here see the tattoos Philip and Ryan got for Christmas," Kyle asked.
       "I didn't see 'em," Jus said. What did they get?"
       "I didn't either," I said. "Where was I?"
       "I don't know where you were, Rick, because they both specifically said they wanted you to see 'em," Kyle said.
       "I saw 'em," Kevin said. "They're small and tasteful and colorful. They're on their left biceps."
       "Didn't you think they were kick-ass," Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, in my opinion, no tattoo can be kick-ass, man. I know a lot of people of our generation have 'em, but I don't want one, and most that I've seen have been pretty grotesque to me," Kevin said.
       "Rick's got one," Kyle said.
       "I know, Kyle. I don't disrespect people who have them. Rick's says 'Ironman 2000,' and I actually encouraged him to get that. Finishing that race was a lifetime achievement, and I think that's fitting."
       "Where the hell is it? I've never seen it," Justin said.
       "Yeah, 'cause you've been too busy looking at his dick," Kyle said. "It's about an inch above his pubic hair, and it's very small. Very small."
       "His dick is small, but it ain't all that small," Justin said.
       I shot Justin the finger, and they all laughed.
       "Stop talking about my dick," I said.
       "I've seen what you're talking about, but, seriously, I thought it was a vein sticking out. He's got all those big veins all over," Jus said.
       "Kyle, if you decide to get a tattoo, please make it tasteful and please make it easily hidden, okay," Kevin said.
       "Did you think I wouldn't do that, Kevin," Kyle asked.
       "No, not really. What do you want? Do you know yet," I asked.
       "Yep. I want my little monkey on me," Kyle said. "About two inches big, and I want it where Rick has his. I want it to show when I'm in my briefs or a Speedo."
       "That won't be bad, little brother," I said. "Do you want one, too, Tim?"
       "Yes," Tim said with a blush.
       "What do you want, dude," I asked.
       "I want a banana, on the side opposite Kyle's monkey," he said.
       "Oh, I see. So the monkey can eat the banana," Justin said. "Under certain circumstances, of course. The monkey likes to eat the banana, doesn't he?"
       We laughed at Justin.
       "Shut up, Justin," Tim said. Tim was blushing furiously.
       "Tim, there's nobody in this car who doesn't like to eat the banana, Bubba," Jus said. "In fact, if we pass a fruit stand, let's buy us some bananas. I can always eat a fruit, especially a banana."
       I started laughing so hard at Justin that I almost lost control of the car.
       * * *
       After we calmed down from the hilarity of the tattoos and the bananas, I felt like I needed to speak up.
       "Guys, there is something you all need to know. My step-father is not exactly fond of homosexuals," I said.
       I saw Kyle look at Tim and then turn back to look at Justin.
       "Kyle, before you get your underwear in a wad and start mobilizing your boys, just know this. He's not going to insult you or make fun of you or anything like that. At the worst, he's going to be cool to you. He'll probably go do something by himself while the rest of us do stuff together. He's not a bad man, but I just wanted to warn you," I said.
       "What's he going to do while we're off doing stuff," Kyle asked.
       "He'll probably go fishing," I said.
       "Do you think we can fish together," Kyle asked
       "Yeah, probably. If you want to," I said.
       "Y'all just let me go out with him," Kyle said.
       We made a pit stop right about then, and then we went to a fast-food place to get burgers and fries. Kyle and Justin each ordered four cheese burgers and two large fries. I just got three and one. Where did they put all that food, I wondered.
       Back on the road, I wanted to explore why Kyle would want to go fishing with my step-father.
       "Kyle, were you serious about wanting to go fishing with Arnold," I asked.
       "With who?"
       "With Arnold. That's my step-father's name," I said.
       "Yeah. Do you think that would be all right," Kyle asked. "He probably doesn't know any normal gay guys, since the only one he knows is you."
       "Very funny," I said sarcastically. The rest of them thought it was hilarious, though, and everybody laughed at what Kyle had said.
       "You know, Kyle might be right," Kevin said. "Not about you, Babe, but about not really knowing any gay men or boys. I mean, the best way to destroy stereotypes is by being exposed to the opposite of the stereotype, isn't it?"
       "I'll go fishing with you guys, too," Justin said. "If somebody teaches me how to fish."
       "It's easy, Jus. You just stick your worm in the water and wait for a fish to bite," Kyle said.
       "I might let a monkey eat my banana, but I ain't letting no fish get to my worm," Justin said.
       More laughter.
       "Babe, it might not be a bad idea," Kevin said. "Are there charter boats in Sarasota? Maybe we could all go on a deep sea fishing trip. Have you guys ever done that?"
       Kyle and Jeff had, but the others had not.
       "Of course they have charter boats. A lot of 'em, too, but I don't know about this time of year, Kev," I said.
       "That would be so much fun," Kyle said. "As far south as it is, I'll bet they go out now. Don't they have a lot of visitors in the winter?"
       "Mostly starting around February 1st," I said. "They might go out. We can check. In fact, somebody look in my small bag. There's a book about Sarasota attractions in there. Look and see if there's anything about deep sea fishing."
       Jeff was closest to the bag, and he got the book. He found the reference and read aloud to us. "This is what it says," Jeff said. "'Winter season is December, January, and February. Winter grouper and snapper fishing is outstanding and occasionally we run into hog snapper. Grouper and snapper can be found inside of 12 miles, usually in the same locations. They are suckers for shrimp or live pinfish and will punish the unsuspecting angler. Amberjack are extremely cooperative on the deeper reefs, 30 miles or more. They school heavily over the reefs, and it’s not uncommon to see several following up the unlucky one you have just hooked. Just drop a bait to one and hang on!'"
       "Are there boats listed," I asked.
       "Yeah. A bunch of them, in fact," Jeff said. "There are phone numbers, too."
       "Let's call one," Kyle said.
       "Not so fast, mister," I said. "What day do you think we should go, assuming we can get a reservation?"
       "What does your mom have planned," I asked.
       "The only definite things are a night at the Asolo and a trip to the Ringling Circus Museum. After the New Orleans museum pig-a-thon I told her we'd save the historical stuff till next time," I said.
       "Do you think we could go fishing on Monday," Kevin asked.
       "Somebody give me a phone. Let me call my mom and see what she says. Kev, dial it for me, please," I said.
       I recited the number, and Kevin got Mom on the phone. He handed the phone to me after they had exchanged greetings and the usual pleasantries.
       "Hi, Mom. Are you ready for us?"
       "You know I am. I can't wait to see you boys. All of you boys," she said.
       "We've been talking about what we might like to do while we're there, and we thought about a deep sea fishing trip. How does that sound?"
       "That sounds like fun. Arnold might even like to do that," she said.
       "Well, we hope he does. It was actually Kyle's idea to have Arnold spend some time with them doing typical guy things. Kyle said he thought that maybe Arnie had the wrong idea about gay men because he'd only been around me, never any normal ones."
       She howled. "Let me ask him. He's right here."
       There was silence for a few minutes.
       "I told him what you said, and he got a big kick out of it. I can't wait to meet that Kyle. And he said he'd love to join you," she said.
       "You, too. We're not leaving you home," I said.
       "Well, in that case, we'd both love to join you. Monday might be a good day for that. You're leaving Tuesday, aren't you?"
       "Yes, ma'am," I said.
       "That'll be perfect. Do you want me to call and make a reservation?"
       "No, ma'am, we'll do it. We have a list of boats and their numbers. We'll just call from the car. It'll give us something to do," I said. "We're about halfway there. We'll see you around four or 4:30. And we're excited."
       "Not as excited as I am," she said. "Well, let me let you go so you can call the boat."
       We said goodbye and hung up.
       "She said Arnold got a kick out of what you said about me, Kyle," I said.
       "See? He knows the truth," Kyle said.
       I handed Kyle his phone back. "Call and make reservations," I said.
       Kyle was Johnny-on-the-spot with that chore. The first boat he called was already booked for Monday, but the second one took our reservation. Kyle pulled out his credit card and gave them the number.
       "We're all set. We have to be there at seven o'clock, and we get back at five or 5:30. He asked me if we wanted fried chicken or deli sandwiches from Publix, and I said we wanted both. Also soft drinks for Rick and beer for the rest of us."
       "How much is it," I asked.
       "None of your business," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, don't start," Kevin said. "How much is it?"
       "It's $610, and I put it on the company credit card," he said.
       "We're paying for this, Kyle," I said.
       "Fine with me. Just work it out with Mister Gene when we get back. Knowing what a skin flint he is, he'll probably charge you double interest," Kyle said.
       Kevin and I both laughed, knowing full well we'd never pay a dime for that fishing trip under those circumstances.
       "Kyle, and all of you, I want to talk about Kyle's comment just now about beer for the rest of us. Things have been pretty loose during the holidays. I know you've all been drinking, and you've handled yourselves very responsibly about that," I said. "The culture in New Orleans sort of blinks at young guys drinking, and Tim and Kyle, your parents obviously don't mind if you have a drink at a party or something like that. I'm going to ask you guys to stay away from the booze in Sarasota, though."
       "I was just teasing before, Kevin," Kyle said.
       "I know you were, Bubba, but I'm not teasing now," Kevin said.
       "What if they offer us a drink, say at home on even on that boat," Justin asked.
       "At home is one thing, don't you think, Babe? Are they likely to offer them a drink?"
       "Frankly, Babe, they probably will. There was always beer and liquor in the house when I was growing up, and I'd have a drink or two on special occasions when I was as old as Kyle and Jus, and certainly when I was Jeff's age. Or maybe a glass of wine with a special dinner," I said.
       "It'll be illegal on the boat, though, won't it," Kevin asked.
       "Not after we're in international waters, it won't," Jeff said.
       "Well, like I said, Rick and I have not been at all disappointed in the way you've handled drinking so far. Let's just play it by ear on the boat, then, okay guys," I said. "And Brian, I think you're definitely too young, legal or not legal."
       "I don't think Brian has had a single drink since the holidays started," Jus said.
       "Have you, Brian?"
       "No, sir. I've had a few sips out of Justin's a couple of times, but I haven't had a whole drink just for me," Bri said.
       "Kevin, if it makes you nervous, we don't have to drink," Kyle said. "We don't need to drink to have fun. You know that."
       "I appreciate that, Kyle," Kevin said. "Now you know how I feel about it, though. I trust you. All of you."
       "This was kind of like a group 'private talk with Kevin,' wasn't it," Justin said.
       That made everybody laugh, and we were back to joking around in no time.
       The traffic started getting heavy north of Tampa, and it was awful going through the city.
       "That's the school I used to go to," Brian said as we were passing a middle school. It didn't face the Interstate, so all we saw was the back of it.
       "Cool," Tim said.
       "Do you wish you still went there," Kevin asked him really gently. I knew Kevin worried about the kids, and I knew he was thinking Brian was probably having some emotional reactions right about then.
       "Hell, no," Brian said.
       "You don't," I asked. I was a little surprised.
       "No. It's a middle school. I'm in high school now," Bri said.
       We all laughed.
       "I'm telling you guys," Jus said. "This boy's a stud."
       "Well, you should know," Kyle said.
       "I can't believe how open you guys all are about sex," Jeff said. "It just seems so natural and so healthy to me."
       "It is healthy for you," Jus said. "Kyle's worked him up quite a nice pair of biceps from all those push-ups he does."
       We all laughed.
       "You know what I mean," Jeff said, after everybody was finished laughing.
       "Yeah, we do know what you mean, Jeff," I said, "and I think you're right."
       "Do you miss having sex, Jeff," Tim asked.
       "Timmy, that's sort of personal, don't you think," Kevin asked.
       "That's okay, Kev. I'd be lying if I said I didn't, Tim. It was something very special for us, but Clay was my soul mate, not just my bed mate," Jeff said.
       "Are you feeling any better, Jeff," I asked.
       "Yeah, I am, Rick. Little Clay caused a turning point Christmas morning," Jeff said.
       "Little Clay," Brian asked.
       "Kyle, Bri. You never met Clay. None of you knew him very well, except Kyle. For one thing, they look a tremendous amount alike," Jeff said.
       "Clay was ugly," Justin shot out instantly.
       "No, he looked like me, not like you," Kyle said.
       "And he had an incredible sense of humor, just like Kyle has," Jeff said. "Clay was a lot of fun. When Kyle named his boat The Clay , he said that we were all going to have fun on the boat and we would have had fun with Clay, too. He was absolutely right. Kyle, if I misspeak and call you Clay sometimes, please don't get upset, okay?"
       "Jeff, I'd be proud to bear my brother's name. You all didn't see this, but I got big tears in my eyes a few minutes ago when he called me Little Clay. If I ever have a son, his name is going to be Clay Goodson the second," Kyle said.
       "Who knows, son, maybe one of these days the people of Florida will wake up and let us adopt children," Kevin said.
       "If you adopt one in another state and bring it here, can you keep it," Kyle asked.
       "Sure, but you have to live in another state in order to adopt in that state," I said.
       "If we go to college and Tim goes to medical school in Louisiana, couldn't we adopt a baby or a little kid there and bring him here," Kyle asked.
       "It could happen. It certainly could happen," Kevin said. "And I know some people in Louisiana who would bend over backwards to make that happen."
       "Timmy, we've got a lot to look forward to, Babe," Kyle said. "A lot."
       "It would be just your luck you'd get a girl," Jus said.
       "If we do, we'll name it Justin," Kyle said, "after her sweetie-pie uncle."
       Justin was laughing so hard he could hardly speak. "I'm gonna get you, you little shitass," he said.
       "The perfect note on which to end this trip," I said. "Here we are, guys. The hotel."
       "We're not going to your house," Kyle asked.
       "Of course we are, but this is where we're staying," Kevin said. "You knew we were staying in a hotel."
       "Kevin and I want a little time to talk to my mom and Arnold before they meet you guys," I said. "We're going to check in and Kev and I are going to my house. Then we'll come back for you all."
       "How many rooms did you get," Kyle asked.
       "Four," Kevin said.
       "Kevin, we don't need four rooms. We just need two. The kids can all sleep together," Kyle said. "It'll be more fun if we're all together, man. Come on."
       "It'll be a hell of a lot cheaper, too. You can give the extra money to us," Jus said.
       "Are you sure, guys," Kevin asked.
       "There isn't anything we haven't all seen a million times. You guys want us to be brothers. Well, hell, we are," Kyle said.
       "Jeff, are you okay with everybody in the same room," Kevin asked him.
       "Kevin, the people in this truck are the most important people in my life. Really, the only people in my life," he said. "I'm just glad to be here. Besides, I think it would be fun, too."
       "We'll see if they have a fold-up bed they can bring in," I said.
       "We don't need that, Rick," Kyle said. "Jeff can take turns sleeping with us. Just get two king size beds."
       "No, we're getting a fold-up," I said. "If you choose not to use it, that's your business, but we're getting one."
       I had made the reservations, and I had been tempted to get non-smoking rooms. Then I thought, Why be a prick? and got smoking rooms. I had quit smoking by choice, and I didn't think it was right to force my decision, however temporarily, on my husband and two of my sons. Besides, they smoked so little it probably wouldn't be an issue for me or for the three boys who weren't smokers.
       * * *
       When we got to my house, my mom's house, really, she was overjoyed to see us.
       "Where are the boys," she asked immediately.
       "They're at the hotel. We'll get them in a few minutes. We wanted to talk to you and Arnie alone first," I said.
       "I understand, Rick, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by his attitude," she said. "He and I have had many long talks about homosexuality, and he's done a lot of reading and thinking about the subject. He was on the phone a minute ago. Let me see if he's through."
       Arnie came into the room wearing a smile. That, in itself, was a surprise. I didn't ever remember seeing the man smile before.
       "Hi, guys," he said, extending his hand.
       We shook hands. I thought about the warm hugs, and kisses even, we always got from Kevin's dad and brother, but I wasn't ready to hug him yet.
       "We've been excited about seeing you. Can I offer you a holiday cocktail," he asked.
       "I'll have a diet soda, Arnie," I said.
       "I'll have whatever you're having," Kevin said.
       "Me, too," Mom put in.
       "Is scotch okay," Arnie asked.
       "That's fine," Kevin said.
       Once we were settled down with our drinks, Arnie began the conversation.
       "The first thing I want to say is that I'm glad you're here. Both of you. Sarah and I have talked a lot about the two of you and about your relationship in the last year. She was terribly upset that the two of you got married without her being there, and I know that was my fault. And Kevin, when you didn't come home with Rick last year after Christmas, it just about broke her heart. But that was my fault, not yours or Rick's."
       "I don't know what to say," Rick said. "We're here now, though, and we've got a pack of boys with us who are just as queer as Kevin and I are. Those are our sons. They're our family, and we love them. Can you handle that?"
       "I can, Rick. I'm looking forward to meeting them," Arnie said.
       "There are some things you need to know about them before you meet them," I said. "First, you would never know they're gay to look at them or to talk to them. They don't fit any of the media stereotypes of gay men. We have friends who do, but these boys don't."
       "You guys don't, either," Arnie said.
       "Well, we'd be proud of them if they did, though, Arnie. It just so happens this bunch doesn't," I said.
       "Any athletes in the group? Like you?"
       "None of them is playing an organized sport right now, but at least two of them have been on school sports teams, and a third one, Jus, hasn't really had the opportunity," Kevin said. "But Tim, Kyle, and Justin are very athletic types."
       "All five of them are very intelligent. Kyle and Justin are particularly quick witted, and they're liable to come out with a pun or a joke that might be a little off-color. They tried really hard to watch their language when we were in New Orleans around Kev's mother, sister-in-law, and Kyle's mother, and they were pretty successful at that. I wanted to warn you, though," I said.
       "Son, you're talking to two secondary school educators. Together Arnie and I have over fifty years of experience working with adolescents. We know what boys are like, don't we, Dear?"
       "I'll say," Arnie said. "I'm no prude, Rick, and neither is your mother. We've both got thick skins, I can assure you."
       "Well, they won't be vulgar or coarse toward the two of you, that's for sure, but you might overhear a comment made to one another that might shock you a bit," Kevin said.
       "I doubt it, son," Mom said.
       "Good," I replied.
       "Why don't we cut this bullshit and you go get those boys," Arnie said.
       "What's on tap for tonight," I asked.
       "Well, first we'll eat, and then we were thinking they might like to go on the Christmas Walk," Mom said.
       "More lights," Kevin asked.
       "More lights," I said.
       "Will they like doing that," Mom asked.
       "They loved it in New Orleans. There's no reason they won't love it here, too," I said.
       "Kevin, let us freshen your drink, and Rick, you go get your boys," Mom said.
       "Okay, and, Babe, try to be upright when we get here, okay?"
       "You assh. . ." Kevin said. And then he caught himself.
       "Kevin, when he acts like an asshole, call him an asshole," my own mother said.
       We all laughed at what she said, and I felt like I was on a cloud, it was so good. I hauled my butt back to that hotel as fast as I could to get those kids. They were all ready. They had showered and put on nicer clothes than they had worn on the trip down. The ones who had needed to shave had actually done so, and it was a mighty good looking bunch I hauled back to my mom's house.
       My mother went apeshit over those kids, and so did Arnie, in a less effusive way. The dinner was pretty informal--basically lasagna and salad, but there was lots of it. The dessert was chocolate mousse that my mom had bought somewhere, but it was excellent.
       The boys' table manners were impeccable, without being put-on or out of character. There was lots of cheerful banter at the table, and one time I thought Tim and Kyle were going to have to give Arnie mouth-to-mouth, he was laughing so hard. They told about school, about their friends, about the gifts they had gotten for Christmas, about the trip to New Orleans. The adults, including Jeff, were offered wine, but the boys got cokes. It was like we had scripted the whole thing. Kyle, Jus, and Tim even cleaned up the kitchen, over my mother's protest.
       "It's our job, Grandma," Kyle said.
       Huge tears came to her eyes when he said that.
       "Let 'em do it, Mom. They know what they're doing," I said.
       She just nodded, afraid to talk for fear she would break down.
       We went to see the Christmas lights. About 11:30 I finally said, "We'll see everybody tomorrow, guys, but it's late. We need to go. Mom, what Mass do you go to?"
       "The ten o'clock. You mean. . ."
       "Oh, yeah. We'll see you there. Tell everybody good night, guys," I said, and they did.
       My mom grabbed Kevin and me on the way out.
       "Rick, they are unbelievable, son," she said.
       "I would never have thought those boys are gay," Arnie said.
       "Oh, yeah. They're all gay. On the way to New Orleans, Kyle and Justin got into an argument about which one was queerer," Kevin said. "It was hilarious."
       "Well, I don't care what they are. Those are some great kids, son," Arnie said to me. That was the first endearment of any kind he had ever used toward me, and it wasn't lost on my mother. "Thanks for coming guys. Kyle was right, Rick."
       "What do you mean," I asked.
       "I did just need to be around some normal gay people," he said with a grin.
       "I'm out of here," I said, laughing.

Chapter 4

(Kyle's Perspective)
       When I realized on that trip to Sarasota that it was possible that maybe someday Tim and I could have a kid or two, I got so excited. It was selfishness, I knew, but most parents were so happy with their kids when they got grandchildren that I wanted at least one of my own to make my parents happy. As hard as he'd try for me, I knew Timmy would never get pregnant, or me, either, for that matter. Now wouldn't that be a sight, if one of us did!
       I knew my buddy Rick was really nervous for us to meet his mom and step-dad. I knew Rick wanted me to be in charge of the boys. He never said anything to me about it, but I knew how he was thinking.
       "All right. Listen up," I had said, as soon as we were in our hotel room before we went to Rick's house. "This is a very special night for Rick, and anybody who is the least bit out of line tonight has to answer to me. And that includes you, too, Tim, although I know you won't be out of line."
       "I'd like to see you whip Tim's ass," Justin said.
       "Yeah? I'll whip your ass in a heartbeat," I said.
       "Shut up. No, you won't, and you know it, Bubba. Besides, you think you're the only one here who loves Rick? Nobody's going to fuck up, Kyle. Not on purpose, anyway. He's ours as much as he is yours, you know, Little Rick," Justin said.
       "I know. I'm sorry if I'm a little intense. Gimme a hug, stud," I said.
       "You just want to rub your dick against me, Kyle. I know you, dude."
       "Fuck you, asshole!"
       "Yeah? Where and what time," Jus asked.
       He and I laughed, and we hugged each other. Philip was officially my best friend, and I really loved him, too, but I didn't feel half the love for Philip that I felt for Justin.
       "Let's talk about sleeping arrangements," I said.
       "Nothing to talk about, Kyle," Jeff said. "I'm on the fold-out."
       "No, you're not, Jeff," I said.
       "Jeff, Kyle ain't worried about your comfort, man. This is about you and this family," Jus said.
       "What are you talking about," Jeff asked.
       "What I'm talking about is you sleeping with your brothers, man," Jus said. "I know you're worried about getting in bed with us naked and getting a hard-on. Well, let me tell you something, Bubba. We want you to sleep with us, and if you don't get hard by yourself, I'll make you hard. I know how to do it."
       Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I'll bet you do. I've never made love with anybody but Clay, and that's the way I want to keep it, for now," Jeff said.
       "We're not talking about making love, Jeff. Brian and I know what that is, and I know Tim and Kyle do, too. We're talking about 'making brother,' man. Just getting each other off because we care about each other, not because we're in love. We care about you, man, and we want to show it. If you don't want to get off, nothing will happen. That's our first rule, and we know it and follow it. But we want you to feel good, man, because we care." Justin said it good for all of us.
       Jeff started crying.
       "Did I hurt your feelings," Justin asked with real concern in his voice.
       "The exact opposite, Justin," Jeff said. "This is kind of the ultimate acceptance of me as an outsider, you know? Kyle, you have already been so good to me. Do you agree with Jus?"
       "Hell, I wrote the script. He didn't make that up. I told him to say that," I said. I knew that was cheap, but, hey!
       "Let me think about it, okay, guys? I'm so happy to have you guys. I know I haven't been very much fun during these holidays, but you have been so good to me. I hope you never know what it's like to lose somebody you love, but if you do, I hope you each find a group of guys like you all," Jeff said.
       They were looking at me like they wanted me to say something, and I didn't know what to say.
       "Well, speaking of losing, we all need to lose some dirt," I finally said. "Jus, y'all take their shower next door. Here's the extra key. And everybody shave, too, okay?"
       "Yeah, yeah," Justin said as they left.
       We all got prettied up to meet Arnold and Rick's mom.
       * * *
       Rick's mom was just like Beth in New Orleans. I could tell she loved us before she ever met us, just because Rick did. Arnold, or Arnie as he told us to call him, was a whole lot nicer than we expected. Or than I expected, at least. He was talkative and funny and a good host. The lasagna was really good, and I ate me three plates full. I learned when I was about ten years old that a lady does not mind if you make a pig of yourself over her food, and that stuff was so good it was easy to do it that night. I noticed the other boys got them more than one plateful, too. I guess all of us ate pretty big most of the time, anyway.
       After we went to see the Christmas lights, which weren't as good as the one in New Orleans had been, we sat around talking a long time. They were both teachers, which made me a little bit nervous at first. I mean, I knew Sarah was a principal and that he had something to do with running the school district. But it never occurred to me that they had been teachers for a long time before they got those jobs. At least they hadn't taught math.
       When we went back to the hotel, I could tell Rick was really happy about the night.
       "Guys, I want to thank you for being so wonderful tonight," Rick said.
       "Ain't we always wonderful," I asked.
       "Actually, you are, Kyle, and tonight was no exception," Rick said.
       "This was kind of like an adult evening," I said.
       "Yes, it was, and y'all did me proud, boys. Those etiquette lessons Kevin gave you have paid off big time. Call the front desk and ask for a wake-up call for 7:30, guys," Rick said. "We're going to Mass at ten, and you'll need time to get ready."
       "Okay," I said, and we went up to bed.
       Jus and Brian stripped down and got in their bed. Tim and I stripped, too, and got in bed. Jeff got in bed with us, but he kept his underwear on. I was in the middle, with Tim to my right and Jeff to my left. I spooned up to Tim and got hard in about two seconds. I reached down to find Tim's dick, and he was as hard as I was. The two in the other bed were quiet and still, so I figured they must have gone to sleep right away. In about a minute I could tell that Tim had gone to sleep, too.
       "Jeff, you and I are the only ones awake," I whispered. "Take 'em off, man, and hold me, if you want to. You know it feels good to hold somebody in bed."
       Jeff didn't do anything for a couple of minutes. Then I felt him squirm around getting out of those briefs. In a few seconds he put his arms around me and his head on my shoulder. I felt his hard dick against my back, too. He didn't move or anything. Then, just when I was about to go to sleep, he pressed up against me a little harder, and I heard him say "Ahhh." Then I felt his stuff, warm and wet, against my back. He must have needed that bad, I thought. I smiled and went to sleep.
       The next morning, when we woke up, Jeff looked at me kind of shy or something.
       "Thanks," he said.
       I didn't say anything, but I smiled at him, too. I hoped he knew we all loved him and that he was our brother.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       I knew Rick was both nervous and excited about all of us seeing his mom and step-dad. I really wasn't prepared for the warm reception I got from Arnie. When he referred to Rick and me getting married the year before, I was just about blown away. I figured that meant he accepted us for who we were, and that was all anybody could ask.
       The kids were wonderful that Saturday night, but I pretty much knew they would be. Kyle and Justin did their two-man comedy routine, and they kept everybody laughing all night long. All of them ate a lot, and I could tell that made Sarah very happy. They kept saying how good the food was, and no cook can remain neutral toward people who ate like they did.
       "This is working out better than I expected," Rick said to me the next morning right after our wake-up call.
       "Yeah. Are you going to get up and run," I asked, hoping he wasn't.
       "No, but I'd like some exercise, though."
       "Push-ups?"
       He chuckled. "You got it."
       "Not yet, I haven't," I said.
       "Come here," he said. He covered me with kisses and made slow and gentle love to me.
       A few minutes after we had recovered, there was a tap on the door that connected our room with the boys' room.
       "Open up," Kyle said. "Room service."
       Rick looked at me and laughed. He got up, still naked just as I was, and let them in. They had, indeed, ordered room service, and they brought in coffee, juice, and pastries for everybody. Jeff and Tim had on their underwear, but the rest of them were as naked as we were.
       "It's time to get up, lovebirds," Justin said.
       All five of them still had damp hair from their showers. It had been a month or so since I had seen any of them naked, and Kyle was the only one who still had anything close to a tan line remaining. The hair on Kyle's chest was particularly noticeable in its dampened state.
       "What time did you guys get up," I asked.
       "We got up when the cock crowed," Justin said.
       "Whose," Rick asked.
       "Let's give it a rest for right now, okay," I said. I thought it was way too early to start the puns. "What are you guys doing naked," I asked.
       "What are you doing naked," Kyle asked in return.
       "Let's eat," Justin said. They set the two trays down, and they started serving.
       "This is a nice surprise," I said. "I've never had breakfast in bed before."
       "We could make this happen every Sunday," Kyle said.
       "No. Let's just keep things the way they are," I said.
       After we finished eating, we sent that bunch packing to get dressed for church, and Rick and I got cleaned up and dressed, too.
       We met Rick's mom and step-dad at the church, and we all sat together for Mass. Sarah seemed especially proud of her grandsons, and she made a special point of introducing us all to the priest when it was over. The guy didn't look like he was a whole lot older than Rick and I, and he had done an amazingly good job with the homily on that Holy Family Sunday.
       The reading from the Old Testament had been about reverence for fathers, and he had chosen that theme as the basis for his homily. He made passing reference to foster fathers in connection with saying that the Church considers St. Joseph to be the foster father of Jesus but that foster fathers can be real fathers in every sense except the biological. When he said that, Rick's mom, who was sitting to his left, grabbed his hand and held it tight. He grabbed my hand, too. Sarah took out a tissue and wiped her eyes.
       "Do you know Father Jerry? He's our priest and our friend in Emerald Beach," Brian had said to the priest after Mass.
       "No, I'm afraid I don't," the priest said. "What's his last name?"
       "Taylor. Jerry Taylor," Brian said. "He's about as old as you are, Father."
       "Jerry's from Boston, Buddy. He's not from around here," Justin said.
       "Oh, yeah," Brian said.
       "Maybe I'll get up there some day, and you guys can introduce us," the priest said.
       "You'd like him," Brian said.
       "Sarah, you seemed a bit emotional during the homily. Did I say something to upset you," the priest asked.
       "Not at all, Vince. Quite the contrary, in fact. My son Rick, and his partner Kevin, are foster fathers, and these are their sons. What you said touched me deeply because of that," Sarah said.
       "Oh, my," Vince said. "I'm glad I said that. It wasn't part of my original outline. The thought just popped into my head as I was speaking. Congratulations, Sarah."
       "Actually, only three of these guys are foster sons. Those two"--Rick pointed to Tim and Kyle--"are honorary foster sons."
       "That's extraordinary," Vince said. "I'd like to get to know you guys sometime."
       "Come visit us, when you can." Rick actually gave the priest one of his business cards. I wondered if there would be any follow-up to that.
       "You have a friend who's a priest," Sarah asked Rick as we were walking to our cars.
       "Yeah, a very good friend," Rick said.
       "I'm pleased to see that you and Kevin are back at church," she said.
       "Yeah, well, you know," Rick said. "Fatherhood and all."
       Sarah smiled. It was pretty clear that she approved of everything about us and our family.
       * * *
       It was 11:30 by the time we got away from church, and it was time for--what else?--another meal. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I suspected I knew some guys who were. We went to a really nice place for a brunch buffet. It was $20 a head, and we got our money's worth, and then some.
       After brunch, we went to the Ringling Circus Museum. That place was on a 66-acre estate on Sarasota Bay that John Ringling and his wife Mable had donated to the state of Florida. It's one of several attractions on the property, the chief other one being a very prestigious art museum that is the official art museum of the state.
       We followed Sarah and Arnie's car and parked next to them.
       "Why do the signs say this is the FSU-John and Mable Ringling Museum," Kyle asked.
       "FSU has its performing arts center here," Sarah said. "I'm not exactly sure how the university and the museum are related, but this is supposed to be the largest university/museum complex in the country."
       "FSU. Isn't that where you go down in Gainesville, Jeff," Justin said.
       "God, no," Jeff said. He was about to launch into a litany of the differences between the two schools that any student at either one knew by heart.
       "He goes to the University of Florida, dummy," Kyle said. "He's a Gator, like me."
       "Heaven help you, son," Arnie said to Kyle with a grin.
       "What do you mean?"
       "I'm a Seminole, Kyle," Arnie said.
       "That don't make you bad," Kyle said. "It just makes you half-assed."
       "I don't know what you mean, son," Arnie said. He knew Kyle was teasing him, so he wasn't offended. Arnie knew it was bad form to get offended when Gator and Seminole fans teased one another.
       "You know, the FSU Semi-holes. Ain't that half-assed," Kyle asked.
       Arnie laughed. "Very good, Kyle. Is that original?"
       "No, sir. I think it's pretty old. I've heard it all my life."
       "It's very old," Sarah said. "He just got his master's and Ph.D. there, Kyle. He's not a real Seminole like Rick and Kevin and I are. But we're glad he's on our team, aren't we, boys?"
       "I didn't think he was real fond of our team," Justin said, deadpan as always.
       It took Arnie a second to get it, but, once he did, he howled. He threw his arm around Justin's shoulder and gave him a kind of half-hug.
       "Good one, son," Arnie said.
       "Should I call you Doctor Jacobs," Kyle asked.
       "You can, but I'd much rather you call me Arnie," he said.
       "A lot of the people I know are doctors," Kyle said. "I'm surrounded by 'em."
       "Like who besides me," Arnie asked.
       "Both of Kevin's parents are doctors and Tim's dad is a doctor," Kyle said.
       "Oh, really," Arnie said.
       The Circus Museum was fun. It was like the Mardi Gras museums we had recently been to. There were lots of programs and documents, but there were also a ton of masks, some of the old-time circus parade carts, photos of some of the side-show attractions, and a lot more.
       "Rick, have you told the boys about Flying High," Sarah asked.
       "No, Mom. You tell 'em," Rick said.
       "Flying High is the name of the FSU circus," she said. "It's the only university in the country that has its own circus. Really."
       "Jeff told me the whole thing is a circus," Kyle said.
       Jeff grinned at Kyle, and I sensed an affection between the two of them I hadn't really noticed before.
       "It's a circus of learning and joy," Arnie said, "filled with many gay and happy people."
       "You might want to switch, stud. Sounds like you might have a chance there," Jus said to Jeff.
       Arnie laughed, and Rick and I joined him. I suddenly felt completely at ease with Arnie, and he certainly appeared to be at ease with us.
       "Arnie, I heard you tell Kyle you went to FSU for graduate school. Where did you go for undergraduate," Tim asked, changing the subject.
       "I went to Tulane University in New Orleans. Did you see that campus when you were there?"
       "Yes, sir. We passed by it when we were there a few days ago. Is it a good school," Tim asked.
       "It's a very good school, Tim," Arnie said.
       "Cool. I'm thinking about going there," Tim said. "And then to medical school there, too."
       "Well, Tulane would be an excellent choice," Arnie said.
       * * *
       Sunday night we went to see The Music Man at the Asolo Theater, another FSU-related entity. The music and plot portions of that play were superb, and the boys enjoyed it thoroughly.
       "That play was pretty cool, Rick," Justin said.
       "It was different from Cats, wasn't it," Rick asked.
       "Yeah, this one had regular words, not all singing," Jus said.
       "That's a pretty famous play, guys," I said. "Do y'all want to take music lessons and form a band?"
       "Only if I can play the flute," Justin said.
       "This one never stops, does he," Arnie said, laughing.
       "Kevin says I can't be corriged," Jus said.
       "You can't be what?"
       "He's incorrigible, Arnie," Rick said. "And he's too quick for us to even see it coming, most of the time." He was laughing, too.
       Sarah and Arnie followed us back to our hotel, and Rick and I had a drink with them in the bar. The boys told everybody good night and thanked them for a great day. Then they went up to their room.
       "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun with a group of kids," Arnie said. "It's at times like this that I miss being in the classroom."
       "They are fun, aren't they," Rick asked.
       "Rick, I must admit, I had some reservations about your whole arrangement. I've never been around gay men, at least not that I knew were gay, but you and Kevin and the boys just all seem so normal," Arnie said. "I'd go anywhere with you now--or with just them, without you and Kevin."
       "Thanks, Arnie. I appreciate that, man. My family means everything to me, and it's good to welcome you as its newest member," Rick said.
       Arnie seemed genuinely touched by that, and he leaned over and hugged Rick.
       Sarah got huge tears in her eyes, and they started cascading down her cheeks.
       "Thank you, son, and thank you, Sweetie. You don't have any idea how happy I am right now," she said.
       Rick started to tear up, so I spoke for him.
       "The same goes for us, Sarah and Arnie. Thank you, man," I said. Arnie and I got up and hugged.
       The waiter brought our drinks just as we were sitting back down.
       "Is everything okay," he asked.
       "Everything's cool, man," I said. "You'd never be able to know how cool, in fact."
       "Okay. Just checking. Let me know if you need anything." He winked at me, and with that he was off. I was certain he was gay.
       "Your team," Arnie asked.
       "Definitely," Rick and I said in unison. Everybody laughed.
       * * *
       We were all in the lobby by seven o'clock the next morning, as instructed. Our fishing trip started at 7:30, not that they would have left without their only passengers. Rick knew where the marina was, and we met Sarah and Arnie there at 7:20.
       The captain of the boat, Bob Sikes, gave an explanation of what was going to happen, and he went over some rudimentary safety rules. We would have a thirty-minute wait before we could start fishing because it would take us that long to get to the first reef. Rick and I had asked the boys to wear their long sleeve shirts we had given them for Christmas, and we had ours on, too. We were all wearing jackets, so nobody had noticed them.
       "Mom and Arnie," Rick said, "we haven't really talked about when we were going to exchange gifts, so Kevin and I brought yours from us with us this morning. When you open them, I think you'll see why."
       He presented the gifts. Arnie seemed a little confused about us having a gift for him.
       "Open them together, and then we'll tell you the story," Rick said.
       They opened their gifts. The looks on their faces were hard to read. I figured they were just a bit confused.
       "Thank you, boys," Sarah said. "These are lovely."
       "Yeah, thanks, guys," Arnie said.
       "Okay, boys. Show 'em," Rick said.
       All seven of us took off our jackets.
       "Well, for heaven's sake," Sarah said. I could tell she was still confused.
       "Mom, Kevin and I gave everybody in our family--his parents, his brother and his wife, some of our close friends at home, Tim's dad, Kyle's parents, everybody--these same shirts. Did you notice what they say?"
       "'Crew of The Clay,'" she read.
       Rick spoke for us. "The Clay is Kyle's boat that he got for his birthday last month. When he got the boat, he named it that in memory of his older brother, who died in October. Jeff was Clay's boyfriend and partner. These shirts are our way of symbolically uniting all the people we love."
       "Son, that's beautiful," Sarah said, and the waterworks started up again. She hugged Rick and me.
       "I'm sorry to be so emotional, but I just can't help it," she said.
       "Don't worry about it," Jus said. "Rick makes us cry all the time, too."
       That made all of us laugh.
       "If you don't watch yourself, mister, I'm going to throw your ass off this boat," Rick said.
       "See what I mean," Jus said.
       Arnie laughed some more; then he and Jus and the others drifted away.
       "This has been an amazing visit," Sarah said, when they were out of earshot. "He really likes the boys. In fact, he's talked about them since we left you last night."
       "They're pretty hard not to like," I said.
       "Oh, but he was fully prepared not to like them," she said. "I think he expected them all to be like our waiter in the bar last night."
       "We have a couple of friends who are like that, but not this crew," Rick said.
       "Obviously," she said.
       It was time to start fishing then, so we all got set up by Bob. He had room for five people to fish at a time, so we divided up by couples to work the poles. Jeff was with Justin and Brian. Naturally, Kyle caught the first fish, and he got it on deck without any help from the captain.
       "You've done this before, haven't you," Bob asked Kyle.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said.
       "Do you know what kind of fish this is," Bob asked.
       "Yes, sir. It's a grouper, ain't it," Kyle said.
       "That's right. Are you guys saving fish or throwing them back?"
       "Mom, how much room do you have in your freezer," Rick called out.
       "Not much, I'm afraid, but some," she called back.
       "I guess we can keep three or four, and throw the rest back," Kyle told him.
       "Let's keep the first few, then," the captain said. He went off to tend to the fish.
       Kyle gave the pole to Tim after he set up his bait for him.
       "I want to catch me a groper," Justin said.
       "In your dreams, stud," Kyle said.
       That made us all laugh.
       "Mom, do you see what we mean about them saying stuff they probably shouldn't say," Rick asked.
       "I think it's cute, Rick. They obviously care a great deal about one another, too," she said.
       "Cute, and funny as hell," Arnie said. "Are Justin and Kyle like that all the time?"
       "You haven't seen a tenth of what they're capable of," I said.
       We fished that reef for a couple of hours, and everybody in the party hauled in at least one grouper. We caught a couple of red snapper, too, which miraculously happened to be within the tight size guidelines that the state set for those fish. Bob was keeping the fish alive in a well he had on the boat, and he released a couple of grouper to keep those.
       When that petered out, we moved to another location further out. Kyle was letting Tim do most of the fishing on the pole they were sharing, but he caught the first fish at the new spot, too, an amberjack.
       "How do you do that so consistently, Kyle," Arnie asked him.
       "He spits on the bait, Grandpa," Brian said.
       Arnie's eyes got big.
       "He didn't mean to say that, Arnie. He just slipped up," Justin said, by way of apology for his boy.
       "What did I say," Brian asked.
       "You called him grandpa," Jus said.
       "Arnie, I meant to say," Brian said.
       "You can call me grandpa any time you want to, son. I'm honored," Arnie said.
       "Thank you, God," Sarah said, but only loud enough for Rick and me to hear her.
       * * *
       The fishing trip was a great success, and "grandpa" and "grandma" had a wonderful time, not to mention the kids. The Gulf was beautiful, and the weather was perfect. By noon the only one with a shirt on was "grandma," and I noticed a few pink shoulders, despite the sun screen the captain had provided.
       That night we had our family Christmas with the Jacobses. Rick's Mashburn grandparents were there, as well. They were old and much more feeble than I had realized they were. Mr. Mashburn had Parkinson's Disease, and it had really affected his mind. They didn't stay very long at all, but they seemed delighted to see me again and to meet the boys.
       We had drinks and hors d'oeuvres before dinner, and I noticed that Jeff, Justin, and Kyle got treated there with drinks the same way they had been in New Orleans. Kyle pulled Arnie aside to talk to him in private, and then Arnie took him and Tim to a room in the back of the house.
       "What's going on with them," Rick asked when Arnie had returned.
       "They said they needed a computer. Kyle had a laptop with him, but he said he needed a CD burner. I've got one on the computer in the study. He didn't say what he was going to do. I guess it's safe to let them use it, isn't it," Arnie said.
       "It's safe, Arnie," Rick said.
       "He asked that we not exchange presents until he was finished. He said he needed half an hour," Arnie said.
       "Ole Flash is at it again," Justin said. "This ought to be good."
       "I'm intrigued," Sarah said.
       "We know what he's probably doing, Sarah, but we can't tell," I said.
       True to their word, Kyle and Tim came out from the study and re-joined us in the den in thirty minutes.
       "Did you get it done, Flash," Justin asked Kyle.
       "Shut up, man," Kyle said.
       We opened gifts at that point. We had contributed to the Empty Stocking Fund in their names, so all Rick and I had left to give were cards. They seemed to appreciate that.
       They gave Rick and me a magnificent crystal ice bucket from Tiffany's, and they gave each of the boys a book and some gift certificates to a fast food restaurant. The kids acted like they really liked their gifts, whether they did or not. They had also made a hefty contribution to a local charity in the name of the Foley-Mashburn family.
       "Now this is from all of us boys," Kyle said. "It's not really much, but we hope you like it."
       He started playing a slide show that was on his laptop, and it was pictures of us at the museum the day before and of us fishing that day. He had brought his digital camera along, of course, and he had gotten some remarkable shots.
       Kyle did a running commentary on the slides.
       "This is that big statue with the dick," he said, referring to the copy of Michaelangelo's David at the museum. "This one's all over the place. I saw one just like it someplace in Europe, but it was white. Italy, maybe."
       Arnie was sitting on an ottoman in front of Sarah's chair, and he started laughing so hard I thought he was going to fall off onto the floor.
       "Just show the pictures and shut up, Little Rick," Justin said.
       "Did you call him Little Rick, Justin," Sarah asked.
       "Yes, ma'am. He is Little Rick. You can't take these two boys anywhere," Jus said.
       Arnie laughed at that, but Sarah got a happy look on her face and a very big grin.
       "They think alike, Grandma. They can read each other's minds," Tim said.
       "Mom, it's unbelievable. Did you know I had an identical twin who is eight years younger than I am," Rick asked. "Well, there he is."
       "Shut up and watch the movie," Kyle said to Rick.
       We focused on the pictures but we were anything but silent. The photos were very, very good, and somebody had a comment about almost every one of them.
       When it was over, Arnie asked, "Kyle, did you save that on my computer. I want that slideshow."
       "Yes, sir, and here's a CD with it, too. I made two copies of it, one for you and one for us to keep," Kyle said.
       "You're really quite a good photographer, son," Arnie said. "Do you have a Web site with your work?"
       "Naw, but I've thought about it. Maybe soon," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, that would be a way of sharing pictures with my parents, too, you know? And with all the friends? I think you should do it," I said.
       "I might. I just don't know how to do it," Kyle said.
       "I do," Jeff said. "I'll help you. I think it would be a great idea, Kyle."
       "I'll think about it," Kyle said.
       We had dinner after that, and then we got ready to leave.
       "I wish this visit was just starting," Sarah said as we were leaving.
       "I know, Mom. It's been fun, hasn't it," Rick said.
       "I can't tell you when I've had more fun, Son. Sons, I mean," Arnie said grabbing Rick and me around the shoulders on either side of him.
       "We'll be back, and you're going to come see us, too, now, aren't you," I asked.
       "Absolutely, Kevin. We'll be there. Don't worry about that," Arnie said. Then, in a move I would never have predicted, he gave each of us a short peck on the cheek.
       * * *
       "Kyle, I think you were right," Rick said, as we were driving home the next day.
       "About what? Spitting on that bait? That doesn't work. That's bullshit," Kyle said.
       "No, about Arnie never knowing any gay guys like us," Rick said. "Sunday night, while we were having a drink after you guys went to bed, he even said we were just so normal."
       "And he was talking to you," Jus asked.
       "Watch it, mister," Rick said.
       "That's Mister Sweetheart, to you. I'm fixin' to change my ways." Jus was trying to do an imitation of Gage, but it just wasn't working.
       Everybody laughed.
       "Are we going to play Best and Worst," Brian asked. "I want to go first. My best was the fishing," Brian said. "I had never caught a fish before, and they kept one of mine. A redfish. That was awesome."
       "Yeah, fishing," Justin and Tim both agreed.
       "My best was the play. Call me a drama queen, but I'm a sucker for it," Kyle said. "I'm the boy with the nicotine stain on his index finger."
       We all laughed.
       "I have to agree with Kyle," Jeff said. "The play was the best, and he is the boy with the nicotine stain on his index finger."
       "I've got a surprise for you, Bubba. That wasn't a nicotine stain, and it wasn't my index finger, either," Kyle said.
       "Gross," Tim said, and all five of them laughed.
       "There's a story here we're not getting," Rick said.
       "I know, and are you as glad as I am that we aren't getting it," I asked.
       He laughed. "Yeah."

Chapter 5

(Kevin's Perspective)
       We got home the day before New Year's Eve, and Tim and Kyle were going to spend that night at George's house. We had had a wonderful trip to Sarasota, and we were all pretty tired that night. We hung out in the den, watching TV.
       "I miss them," Justin said, out of the blue.
       "Who," Rick asked.
       "You know who, dumbass," Jus said.
       "Who? Tim and Kyle," Rick asked again.
       "Yeah, who do you think," Jus said.
       "I'm here, Justin," Brian said.
       "I know you are, Baby, but I still miss 'em."
       "You miss Kyle, you mean," Jeff said. "We all do. Do you want to see if they want to come over?"
       "They're spending the evening with George," I said.
       "I saw his car go down the street about an hour ago," Jeff said, "and he was by himself."
       "Well, give 'em a call," Rick said. "Maybe George had a date or something."
       Jeff called them at Tim's house, and they were, indeed, all by themselves. George had taken them out to dinner, but he had gone to Sonya's house, possibly for the night, we were told. They came over in about ten minutes.
       "So what are we doing," Kyle asked, as soon as they had gotten in the house.
       "The stud was missing you guys, Kyle," Rick said. "We all were."
       "See," Tim asked Kyle.
       "See what," Justin asked.
       "Tim wanted us to come over right after his dad left. I told him y'all probably had had enough of us for a while," Kyle said.
       "Did you believe that," I asked.
       "No," he said, laughing.
       That made us laugh.
       "Who wants to watch a movie," Rick asked.
       "That sounds good," I said.
       "Let me get it," he said, and he went into our bedroom. He was back in a few seconds. "Jus, do you remember that plantation we went to in New Orleans? The one where the scary movie had been filmed?"
       "Yeah," Jus said. "Something about vampires, right?"
       "Yeah. Interview with a Vampire. You said you hadn't seen it, so I bought a copy of it," Rick said.
       Rick didn't like to rent movies. Instead, he preferred to buy them. His theory was that nobody rented music albums, so why should you rent movies? Consequently, we had, probably, 150 videotapes of feature-length movies. He was generous about lending them to our friends, and there probably weren't more than thirty or forty that we had watched more than once. For some reason, though, he just liked the idea of owning movies.
       "I'm getting comfortable," I said, and I stripped down to my briefs. It had been a while since we were all together, lounging around in our underwear, and the boys and Rick followed suit. It was a little chilly, so Tim and Kyle made us a fire.
       "We need some snacks, don't we," Jus asked.
       "Yeah," Kyle said, and he got up with Justin to get popcorn, candy, soft drinks, and a can of peanuts for us to eat while we watched.
       We snuggled up with our partners, only Kyle had Tim on his right side and Jeff on his left. There was only one small lamp on in the room, and it was pretty cozy and nice. At one point, everyone was dead quiet watching the beautiful men on the screen.
       During one of the vampire scenes, Kyle said, leaning over Tim's neck, "I'm going to suck your. . ."
       "Cock?" Justin yelled that out before Kyle had a chance to say "blood." Well, it made us laugh, of course.
       By the time the movie was over, Rick and I were the only ones awake. The two sets of boys--Justin and Brian, and Tim, Kyle, and Jeff--were cuddled up into one another. The five of them, in that tableau, were beautiful.
       "Let's leave 'em here," Rick said. "I'll get some blankets."
       He got two down comforters and gently draped them over the boys, so as not to wake them up. He and I went to bed. We left the small lamp on in case they woke up and didn't know where they were. Kyle's camera was on a table in the den, and Rick took several pictures of them with it.
       "For the Web page," he whispered.
       I smiled, and he and I went off to bed.

(Jeff's Perspective)
       The trip to Sarasota was a whole lot more fun than I had thought it was going to be. The drive down was pretty ordinary. Central Florida has some natural beauty, but, by and large, the route along the Interstate was pretty drab. Justin and Kyle kept us laughing, though, and that was fun. Kyle had the idea of a fishing trip with Arnie, and he set it up over his cell phone in about thirty minutes.
       That night was a turning point for me, I think. Kyle and Justin both insisted they wanted me to sleep with them in the same bed. Up until then, I hadn't thought much about sex, but when they made that suggestion, I became instantly aroused. They didn't notice it, thank God, because they would have probably teased me unmercifully, if they had. After the evening at Rick's parents' house, though, Kyle insisted I sleep with him and Tim. Kyle was in the middle, naked and turned toward Tim's back, and I pretty much figured he had his left hand on Tim's dick, spooned together like they were.
       I got into bed with them with my underwear on. The others were all naked. I wasn't overly modest, especially around them, but I somehow thought I needed the protection of my briefs against Kyle's overwhelming sensuality. After the others were asleep, Kyle whispered for me to take my underwear off and to hold him, if I wanted to. At that moment, it was as though Clay were there with me, pulling at my briefs for me to take them off.
       I took them off and spooned against Kyle's back. I was fully aroused, but I was determined not to do anything to bring myself off. Touching him, feeling his warmth and the softness of his skin, was more than I could stand, though. My arousal began growing in intensity until, finally, I could stand it no more. I lunged into his back, grunting with pleasure, and I climaxed against him. Seconds later, when my own breath had returned to something close to normal, I knew Kyle was asleep. In my mind's eye, I saw Clay's face smiling at me, and I knew it was what he wanted for me. I drifted off to sleep in the afterglow of my orgasm.
       The next morning Kyle was up and alive, organizing us for showers. I told him thanks, but I didn't say anything else. As though he knew how much the experience of the night before had meant to me, he didn't say anything, either. Instead, he smiled a smile that let me know he loved me as his brother, as Clay's lover and soul mate. I knew Clay was smiling with me then at the "little brother" he cherished above everyone but me. It was as though Clay somehow knew that it would be Kyle who would restore me.
       Kyle called room service as soon as he and Tim were out of the shower. He didn't bother to get dressed, and his body glistened with moisture that the towel couldn't quite remove. The hair on his stomach and chest seemed much darker and thicker that morning, like Clay's had been, and he was the cock of the walk, the proud seed-bearer, the gay Stanley Kowalski of his generation.
       That night, after a wonderful day of Mass and museum and The Music Man, Tim and Kyle again insisted I sleep between them. Tim made the first move and put his hand on my chest. He moved it around and found one of my nipples. He had obviously done that before with Kyle, and he teased my flesh to a state of total arousal.
       Kyle found my penis, by then already hard and dripping, and he took it into his hand. He crawled down a bit and started rubbing my anus with a finger. In a minute or two, he had a finger inside me, rubbing my prostate. Tim replaced his fingers on my nipple with his mouth, and together they brought me to a place of ecstasy.
       When I was finished, I took each of them in hand. Kyle's penis was large, and it felt warmer than Tim's. I did for them what they had done for me. I saw Clay in my mind's eye, and he was smiling approvingly. I knew then that I would, again one day, be able to love another with my body.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       We spent a quiet New Year's Eve at home. We went to the vigil Mass at six, and then Jerry and Pat joined us for dinner at our favorite bar and grill. There were decorations in anticipation of the New Year's celebration later that night, but the place was pretty quiet while we were there.
       "I've made a decision, guys," Jerry announced. "It's about me and the priesthood."
       "Are you getting out of it," Rick asked.
       "Hell, no. I have requested permission to transfer permanently to the diocese of Pensacola-Tallahassee. This is where my family is, and I don't see myself going back to Boston," Jerry said.
       "Will it be granted," I asked.
       "I have a friend in the chancery in Boston. He was a seminary professor that I'm close to, and he said he thought it wouldn't be a problem. This is considered sort of a missionary diocese, and the cardinal in Boston has a history of helping out with personnel in situations like this," Jerry said.
       "So, will Emerald Beach be your permanent home," Rick asked.
       "Well, maybe not forever," Jerry said, "but I think there is a good chance I'll stay here for some time. I mean, my parents are here and are getting up in age, the pastor loves me, and I've been pretty effective here. I'll be here a while."
       "That's great news, Jerry," I said.
       "It was quite a Christmas present for our parents," Pat said. "And for me."
       "We met a nice priest in Sarasota," Brian said. "His name was Father Vince."
       "He was about our age, Jerry," Rick said. "On Sunday he mentioned foster fathers in his homily, and he made my mother cry for joy. He's smart as hell, and he seemed like a really nice guy. I gave him my card. We'll see if he follows up on that."
       "Did you tell him you guys are foster fathers," Jerry asked.
       "My mother did. He seemed impressed."
       * * *
       We went home and saw in the New Year shooting pool and playing ping pong in our clubhouse. Rick made me a drink, and he purposely left the bottle of bourbon out. I saw Kyle making drinks for him and Jeff and Jus out of it, but I didn't say anything.
       We saw in the New Year with many hugs and kisses, and then we went to bed. The next day we participated fully in the orgy of bowl games on TV, and we slipped into the new year like most other families in America. The high school boys had to go back to school on Monday, January 5th, and Justin had to take his GED that Thursday, January 8th.
       Jeff left our house on Saturday to go back to school for the spring semester. There were many tears when we told him goodbye, but we all knew that Jeff had turned the corner on his grief during those holidays. He and Kyle had embraced for a long time, but it wasn't sexual in any way. They were brothers, not lovers, and their love for one another was beautiful to me.
       "I'll be back for the celebrations," Jeff had said. "I'll always come back."
       "What are you talking about, dude," Justin asked.
       "Well, you passing the GED on the eighth, for one thing," Jeff said. " And Brian's birthday on the 13th. I can't miss those."
       "Don't count your chickens before they're hatched," Justin said.
       "There's no doubt in my mind you'll pass it, Jus. You got it licked, dude," Jeff said.
       "I hope," Jus said.
       * * *
       As soon as we had come back from Sarasota, the four local boys had started a serious program of working out in what we had started referring to as the gym. Rick had worked out an individualized program for all seven of us, but Jeff only played around with his halfheartedly. Justin was still working in his old job as courier among the hotels and stores of the Goodson empire, and he continued to finish work every day at one. That arrangement had worked well, and it had enabled him to attend adult school every afternoon. Now that adult school was over, though, it meant he could be home when the other three got home from school around 2:45.
       They were remarkably disciplined about their schedule. They had a small snack when they first got home from school, and then they hit the gym. As Rick had predicted, they often worked out in the nude. I voiced some concern about the lack of jock straps when they worked out that way, and I discussed it with George and my dad. Both of them reminded me that men had been lifting heavy weights without benefit of jock straps for tens of thousands of years without adverse consequences. After they told me that, I didn't worry about it.
       Philip and Ryan had always been sort of in and out, and they did stuff on a fairly regular basis with Kyle and Tim. Kyle maintained that Philip was his best friend, and I'm sure at one time he had been. The six other members of our family were clearly the closest and most important people in Kyle's life, but Philip, and because of him Ryan, was always included on Kyle's list of the people who mattered most to him. Philip and Ryan came over from time to time to work out and to play ping pong or shoot pool, too.
       The clubhouse, with all its treasure, was a boy magnet for the two kids next door, Morgan and Blake Crawford, and for Blake's buddy, Riley Earnhart. One afternoon I happened to come home earlier than usual, so I went out to the clubhouse to see what was going on. The four younger boys--Tim, Brian, Blake, and Riley--were shooting pool, wearing sweats and tee shirts. It appeared that they had recently been working out, and the hair at the base of their heads was still wet with sweat. They were drinking cokes. The three older boys--Justin, Kyle, and Morgan--were in the gym working out, buck naked. Justin's and Kyle's dicks were totally flaccid, but Morgan was pretty close to a full bone.
       "Hey, Kevin," Kyle said brightly. He was always glad to see me, and he always had a grin ready for me.
       Justin and Morgan said "hi," too, but with considerably less enthusiasm than Kyle.
       "What's up, guys," I asked.
       "You mean besides Morgan," Justin asked with his usual lack of affect.
       Morgan and Kyle giggled. Morgan blushed a bit, but nobody commented.
       "Are you going to work out with us," Kyle asked eagerly. "We're almost finished, but we could start again, if you want to."
       "I'll wait for my slave driver to get home," I said. "He likes to make me grunt."
       "I've heard," Jus said, again in total deadpan.
       Kyle thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, apparently, and he even dropped the dumbbell he was holding.
       "What's so funny," Morgan asked.
       "You had to be there," Jus said, "but you ought to be glad you weren't."
       I suddenly remembered the fateful Sunday morning in the hall outside our bedroom the week Justin came to us, and I, too, laughed hard.
       Later that night we were all in the den. The high school boys had spent some time doing homework, and they were lounging around then. Rick had "worked us out," as he put it, and I was feeling really good from the exercise.
       "Kyle, is Morgan gay," I asked.
       "Why? Do you think he's cute," Justin asked.
       Rick threw a pillow at him and hit him in the head. We all laughed.
       "I dunno," Kyle said.
       "Well, this afternoon you three guys were in the gym working out naked, and he was. . . er, . . ."
       "He was almost boned up, wasn't he," Jus said.
       "Well, yeah," I said.
       "That doesn't mean he's gay, does it," Kyle asked.
       "Of course not, but he only seemed embarrassed when Mister Diplomacy here called it to everybody's attention. He wasn't embarrassed around the two of you guys, was he," I asked.
       "Not that I could tell," Kyle said. "Nobody did anything to make him hard, Kev, if that's what you're thinking. Did we, Jus?"
       "He was checking out your fine ass, though," Jus said. "That ass would give the Pope a boner."
       "Was he really checking Kyle out, Jus, or is that just more of your bullshit," Rick asked.
       "He was looking at Kyle, and he was looking at me, too. Kyle ain't the only one who gets looks, you know? Kyle only gets 'em when he's naked, though. I get 'em all the time," Jus said.
       The truth was, Rick and I had both noticed all four of them getting looks from men and women during our Christmas trips, and it happened all the time when we were in public with them at home, too.
       "Does he know we're gay," I asked.
       "Anybody can tell you and Rick are gay, sweetie," Justin said.
       Minor laugh.
       "I haven't said anything," Kyle said. "Have you guys?"
       They all said they hadn't.
       "They're good guys, Kevin," Kyle said. "Our friends don't care if we're gay, man. Why are we even talking about this?"
       "Idle curiosity, is all," I said. "I guess any time I go into a room with three naked guys, two of whom I know are gay, and the third one has a hard-on, it makes me wonder about that third guy."
       "You are so analytical," Kyle said.
       It was my turn to throw a pillow as I laughed at him. Kyle caught it, though, and threw it back at me. I wasn't as fast as he had been, and it hit me in the face. That brought on gales of laughter.
       That night in bed I brought up the topic of Morgan.
       "Was I showing my paranoia by questioning the kids about Morgan tonight," I asked.
       "Since when have you been paranoid? Especially about people being gay?"
       "I'm not, really, but you know what I mean."
       "Kev, they're going to have to work it all out with their friends, you know? If we have to have a street fight over it some day, with bicycle chains and car antennae, we'll just have to do it. We could mobilize a pretty substantial group, if we had to, couldn't we?"
       I laughed. "You sound like Kyle and Justin," I said. "But you're right. They are going to have to work it out."
       I snuggled into Rick, and his warmth and softness overtook me. I was asleep in a matter of minutes.
       * * *
       Justin took the GED online on the Thursday after New Years, and he passed it with quite a few points to spare. He was officially a GED high school graduate, and we celebrated that night with a great dinner. It was as though our family had launched its first member into adulthood, and we all understood that and welcomed it.
       "You da big stud here, dude," Kyle said to Jus. "I'm so happy for you, man."
       Justin grabbed Kyle in a hug that would have rendered a bear breathless, and the two of them danced around the room like that.
       "This is the first good thing I ever did in my life," Justin said.
       "Bullshit, Bubba," Kyle said. "You have made us laugh so much, man. That's good, Jus. Making us have fun is good. You have been so kind, too. And I feel like nobody can hurt us with you around. You're my soldier, buddy. My main soldier. My best friend, forever."
       Justin teared up with happy tears when Kyle said that. Over the previous couple of months it had become increasingly clear to Rick and me that Justin and Kyle were getting closer. That was the first time we had heard Kyle articulate that Justin was his best friend, but we all knew it.
       Kyle got Jus some tissue, and that was a pretty tender and sensitive act, I thought.
       "We've got family planning to do. Sit your asses down," Rick said.
       "Family planning? I didn't think that was an issue for any of us," Justin said.
       Rick and I howled at that deadpan statement. Kyle laughed, too, and eventually Justin joined in. He knew he was funny. Tim and Brian looked sort of lost.
       "We'll tell you later, guys," Kyle said to them.
       "I'm talking about planning a celebration for the family," Rick said.
       "What would you like to do, Jus? It's your call, man. Party, trip, big donation to charity," I asked.
       "Fuck the charity," Jus said, and we laughed. "I want to do something with y'all. How about North Carolina again?"
       "That could definitely work," I said. "When is the Martin Luther King holiday?"
       "Oh, I'm all over that," Rick said. "Let me look it up."
       "You don't have to look it up. It's January 19th," Tim said. "That's a holiday for us."
       "Could you boys take the following day off, too," Rick asked. "We could drive up after school on Friday and come home on Tuesday. That would give us three full days of skiing."
       "Hell, yeah," Kyle said. He was always ready to miss school.
       "Are you sure," Rick asked.
       "Half the people in that school will be out on Tuesday, Rick. They were last year and the year before. The school knows we need to go skiing," Kyle said.
       "I'm calling my friend Sally Ortega tomorrow morning, just to be sure," I said.
       "Who is she," Brian asked.
       "She's the principal, dummy," Kyle said. "God, freshmen are so dumb."
       Tim slapped Kyle. "Don't pick on my friend." Tim was grinning, and Kyle was, too.
       "Okay! Abuse me later, all right?"
       Tim and Kyle laughed the laugh of a private joke.
       "I'll abuse you any time you want me to, stud," Jus said.
       "Yeah. Promises," Kyle said.
       We all laughed.
       "We've got two things to celebrate. Justin's passing the GED and Brian's birthday. I want us to have a party for Brian," I said.
       "When's your birthday," Kyle asked Brian.
       "Next Tuesday. January 13th," Brian said.
       "Party Saturday night, I say," Kyle suggested. "Next weekend, the slopes."
       "Is that okay with you, Bri," I asked. "We're going to have a party for you, dude. It's just a matter of when."
       Brian was beaming. I wondered if he had ever had a birthday party.
       "Any time is good," Brian said.
       "Brian, we're going to have us a good party for you, Buddy," Kyle said. "I want to do the food."
       "Cum on the half shell," Justin asked.
       We all laughed.
       "Of course, for openers. And for those who can't open 'em, too," Kyle said. "That, and weenie-water soup should be good, don't you think?"
       "Depends on whose weenie," Justin said.
       "I would say yours, but I want everybody to have enough to eat," Kyle said.
       "Ouch. I think you got me last on that one, Bubba," Justin said, and we all laughed.
       "Come on, y'all. We've got to organize this thing," Kyle said. "Let's make a guest list so we can start calling 'em. It's already Thursday, you know. If this thing is Saturday night, we best not waste time."
       Rick got a pad and pencil. "Okay, Buddy. Who do you want to invite? The usual crowd?"
       "Yeah. Everybody," Bri said. "And do you think we could invite Blake and Riley, and Morgan, too?"
       "Sure, Bri. They're your friends. Of course you can invite them," I said. I actually had some reservations about inviting those three to a party of mostly gay men and boys until they knew us better and I was sure they could handle that without freaking out.
       "Isn't this the weekend they're supposed to be out of town," Kyle asked.
       "Oh, damn! Yeah, it is," Brian said. "Oh, well."
       "There'll be a lot of other parties, dude," Kyle said.
       "That reminds me. Kyle, I want you to find out about them, okay," I said.
       "Find out what?"
       "Find out if they would have a problem with us being gay," I said.
       "They don't have a problem with it, Kev," Kyle replied.
       "Naw, they don't have a problem with it," Jus said.
       "How do you know," I asked.
       Kyle responded, "The other day we were working out, and Morgan said, 'Are you guys gay?' I said, 'Why do you ask that?' He said, 'Because your dick is so incredibly big. Don't gay guys have much bigger dicks than straight guys?'"
       "Very funny," I said. "Did you guys really talk about it, or are you just playing, Kyle?"
       "No, sir. We really talked about it. I asked him if it would matter if we were gay, and he said not to them. Every one of us was right there, ain't that right, guys?"
       "He's telling the truth, Kev," Tim said.
       "What did you say then," I asked.
       "I said everybody here is gay except me, but my boyfriend is, so I'm on his team," Kyle said.
       Rick and I laughed, but the boys didn't.
       "Did you really say that," I asked.
       "Yep. They thought it was funny, too," Kyle said. "Let's get back to the guest list. Since there won't be any swimming, we can invite ladies, can't we?"
       "Sure. Do you want to invite any ladies, Brian? It's your party, after all, not Kyle's," Rick said.
       "Well, sure," Brian said. "I'd like Rita to come, and Sonya, too. Do you think they'll come?"
       "I know my mom will be here," Kyle said. "She thinks you're so cute, and she loves your sweet little ass." He said that last sentence in the pretend voice of a little kid.
       "Dad and Sonya will be here, too," Tim said. "I know that for a fact."
       Rick read the list of names he had compiled. "Who did I leave off," he asked.
       "Did you say Dave's name," Brian asked. "I'd like for him to come, if he can."
       "No, and I forgot Jason, too. Is that all right with you, Brian? If we invite Jason?"
       Brian looked at Justin for him to answer.
       "We're still good friends, Buddy," Jus said.
       "Yeah. Jason and his boyfriend, too," Brian said.
       "Good thinking. You don't want this guy having second thoughts, do you," Kyle said as he groped Justin's crotch.
       Justin backhanded Kyle on his arm, but it wasn't a hard pop. Kyle just laughed.
       "Anybody else," Rick asked.
       "I can't think of anybody else," Brian said.
       Rick used his list to make partial lists, one each for Kyle, Justin, himself, and me. We were supposed to call the people on our list to invite them. We had three cell phones so we could all do it at the same time later that evening.
       "Who's got Jeff's name," Justin asked.
       "I do. Why? Do you want to call him," I asked.
       "No, you can call him. Just make sure you tell him about North Carolina, okay," Justin said.
       "Who else do you want to invite on that trip, Jus," I asked.
       "Nobody. Just us. Just the seven immediate family members," he said.
       "Speaking of Jeff, he sure did come a long way during the holidays," I said.
       "I know. That medicine Grandma gave him really helped," Kyle said.
       "Well, you did your share, too, stud. Don't even pretend you didn't," Justin said.
       Kyle actually blushed a little.
       "You all don't know how good this boy right here, this Kyle boy, was to Jeff during the holidays," Justin said. "That medicine was good, but Kyle put that boy back in the human race."
       "Shut up, Justin. You know what we said," Brian told his boyfriend.
       "I know. That's all I'm going to say." Pause. "No, it's not. I'm going to say this much more, and then I'll shut up. Kyle, you're a fucking wonderworker, man. That's it. That's all I'm saying."
       Rick and Little Rick looked at each other. Rick was beaming with pride, and I knew Little Rick knew what he was thinking.
       "Let's move on to food," Kyle said. "Raws, of course."
       "Raws? What the hell is that," Jus asked.
       "Raw oysters, Bubba. Cum on the half shell?"
       "Two bags of singletons, don't you think?" Kyle was definitely planning this thing.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Can you get those for us, Kev? Through one of the kitchens," Kyle asked.
       "Let me write that down," I said.
       "I'd like to make some of those stuffed artichokes like we had in New Orleans. Man, I could eat my weight in those things. Do you know how to make 'em, Rick," Kyle asked.
       "I got the recipe from Odille while we were there. I'll make those," he said.
       "But if you do that, I won't learn how to do it," Kyle said.
       "We'll do it together," Rick said.
       "I really liked that cheese dip with the meat in it," Brian said. "We had that at Grandma's, too."
       "That stuff was awesome," Justin said. "Make that, Kyle."
       Kyle looked at Rick.
       "Got it covered," Rick said.
       "Vegetables and dip," Kyle asked the group.
       "Yeah, put it down," Rick said.
       "What else," Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, Christmas night our friends served grilled polish sausages cut into bite-size pieces," I said. "They were delicious. Why don't we have that?"
       "Was anybody on this list at that party, besides you guys," Kyle asked.
       "I see what you're doing, you little stinker," Rick said.
       Kyle grinned his face off.
       "What's he doing," Jus demanded.
       "He's putting together a menu that none of our friends have ever had, that's what he's doing," Rick said. "This is going to be quite a nice party, Brian."
       Brian just grinned.
       "Okay," Kyle said. "Main course. Steaks? Stuffed baked potatoes? Salad? Grilled vegetables? How does that sound to you, Brian?"
       "That sounds great to me," Brian said.
       "Birthday cake and ice cream for dessert. What's your favorite cake, Bri," Kyle asked.
       "Chocolate."
       "We're buying that already made, okay," Kyle said.
       "Are you asking me," Brian asked.
       "Whose birthday is it," Kyle asked.
       "Mine. I don't care if you buy it," Brian said.
       "Okay. I'm ordering it from Publix. Did you know they have a fully-qualified pastry chef at the one on the parkway," Kyle asked Rick and me.
       "I didn't know that," Rick said.
       "I didn't, either," I added.
       "Yeah, and he's awesome," Kyle said. "He went to the Culinary Institute."
       "I know you're not teasing, Kyle, but how do you know stuff like that," Rick asked.
       "My mom told me. That's where everybody gets wedding cakes now," he said. "Even for weddings in town. Brian, how about chocolate-raspberry, with vanilla ice cream topped with Chambord? That's a raspberry liqueur. That'll be mighty good, dude," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, I don't know the difference. You know that, Bubba," Brian said.
       "I know, so you're going to have to trust me," Kyle said. "I'm planning on thirty, but I'm buying for thirty-five. That's about right, isn't it?"
       "There are only twenty-eight on the guest list," Rick said.
       Kyle looked at him an arched his eyebrows.
       "Leftovers," Rick said.
       "Maybe," Kyle replied.
       "I say we put the hors d'oeuvres in the dining room and set up tables in the clubhouse. We'll need to buy some tables and folding chairs. Or maybe stacking chairs. And table cloths and napkins, and enough plates and silverware to serve forty. Four ten-tops?"
       "Whoa! Kyle! Whoa!," I said. "What are you doing, man?"
       "I'm trying to plan a party, that's what," Kyle said. "How do you think we're going to feed that many people? Paper plates and plastic cups are fine for pool parties, but this is a nice party, Kev. There are going to be ladies here. Besides, I got this all covered."
       "Oh, no! No, no, no, Kyle. We're paying for this party. Not Goodson Enterprises," I said.
       "Y'all pay for the food and drink; GE pays for the other stuff," Kyle said. "You and Rick run the company, man. You guys are the top executives. You two just bought all that beautiful stuff for out there. You're going to be entertaining for GE, aren't you? I mean, you already have. I think the least the company can do is buy the stuff to entertain with, but if you need my dad's approval, I'll call him right now, Kevin."
       I had an epiphany at that moment. We had talked on several occasions about Kyle being the alpha male in our pack, and there I was trying to argue with him. He had clearly been in alpha mode all evening. On top of that, what he had said was true and made perfect sense.
       "Okay. You're right. But, Kyle, one of these days . . .," I said.
       He was grinning and laughing all over himself with delight. "One of these days I'm going to push to hard and too far, and you're going to have to take me out to the woodshed, right?"
       I looked at Rick. He was ready to support me, but he knew, as well as I did, that Kyle was right.
       "Kevin, if I need the woodshed, I'll know it. But I'm right on this thing," he said.
       "Yeah, you are," I said.
       "I'm taking a sick day tomorrow," Kyle said. "Justin, can you get off tomorrow? You and I have work to do, man. Plus, I need your truck."
       Justin looked at me quizzically.
       "Jus, if you take off tomorrow you don't get paid for the day," I said.
       "I know it, but Kyle needs me," he said.
       "Don't the military give temporary duty assignments to people," Kyle asked. "And don't some companies send their soon-to-be manager trainees off to learn how to do stuff related to their business? Like how to entertain at a nice dinner, if somebody was, say, going to be learning how to run a hotel? Do they ever do nice dinners in hotels?"
       "Kyle, you are on it tonight, Bubba," I said. "Yeah, you're right. You won't lose pay for tomorrow, Jus. And you might actually learn something."
       "He's on a big one tonight," Tim said. Tim was the most reserved sexually of the four of them, but he grinned at Kyle in a pretty seductive way just then. I could only imagine what the alpha male was like in bed on a night like that one.
       "It's only 8:30. We can call the people," Kyle said. "It starts at 6:30, okay?"
       "Okay," the three other phoners said.
       "Let's meet back here in half an hour to get a finalized guest list. Let's go, guys," Kyle said.
       We reassembled in thirty minutes. We determined that everybody on the list but Philip and Ryan would be there, despite the lateness of the invitation.
       "I hate it that Philip and Ryan can't come, but they're going to visit Ryan's grandparents in Tallahassee. They didn't see them during the holidays, and they need to go," Kyle said.
       "That's too bad," Brian said.
       "Yeah, but we've got two more ladies coming," Kyle said.
       "Who," I asked, genuinely puzzled.
       "Beth and Cherie," Kyle said. "And Ed and Craig, too. I decided to call them when Philip and Ryan said 'no.' I had thought about it before, but I didn't say anything because I thought it was too far. When I called and talked to Grandma, she said all four of them would be here."
       "No, way," Brian said, obviously excited.
       "She came all the way for his ass on the same day, Bri. Literally for his ass. You should have known she'd be here for your birthday, if she could, man," Kyle said.
       Brian was totally blissed out.
       "Let's call it a night, guys," I said.
       "I was hoping we could have some ice cream, in honor of my GED today," Justin said.
       They all looked at me, but I couldn't respond for fear of crying at the happiness I felt at that moment about Jus. In a lot of ways, it was his big day, but he had sat back, more or less in silence, while we devoted our time to his boyfriend's birthday party.
       "Let's get ice cream," Kyle said.
       If I hadn't known before that Kyle was ultimately in charge when he wanted to be, I knew it then.
       Rick, Tim, and Kyle got up to make the sundaes for us, and they brought back huge confections. We ate every drop, and then we all went to our rooms. There was probably enough sperm released in that house that night to re-populate the earth. I know Rick and I did our part.

Chapter 6

(Kyle's Perspective)
       We went to bed after we finished our ice cream the night we planned Brian's birthday party, and I was so hot for Tim I could hardly stand it. In fact, I think I scared him a little bit.
       "What's the matter," I asked him once I got him in my arms in bed. I could feel tension or something, and I didn't like it.
       "You're so big tonight, Babe. You've been like this a few times before. It scares me a little bit," he said.
       "What do you mean I'm so big tonight and I scare you? I've never hurt you, have I?"
       "Of course not. Kyle, I don't think you realize the effect you have on people when you get like you are tonight."
       "What do you mean," I asked. The only thing I ever wanted was to love that boy and make him happy. It sounded like I was scaring him or something.
       "Kyle, people can't resist you. Kevin is the strongest one after you, but he can't resist you, either. Like tonight," Tim said.
       "Was I rude to Kevin, Babe?" I never, ever intended to be rude to Kevin or any of my brothers. I was worried.
       "No, of course you weren't rude. It's hard to explain, Kyle. It's like with Craig. Craig is totally straight, but you could have done anything you wanted to with him in New Orleans. Did you know that?"
       "I knew he liked me a lot," I said.
       "It was more than that. He was totally, like, sucked into your orbit or something. And Justin's that way, too. And Jeff. We all are, Babe."
       "Yeah, but you're the only one I ever want," I said. I hoped it sounded like I meant it as much as I really did.
       "I know, and I thank God every day for that, Babe. I love you, Kyle. I know I'm only fifteen, but you're it for me. This is for life, isn't it?"
       "Oh, baby, you don't know how happy it makes me to hear that," I said. "I love you with all my heart and all my soul forever, Tim."
       We had said that stuff to each other before, and that's as far as we got before the physical stuff took over. I made love to Tim that night with more care and more feeling than I had in a long time. I didn't know what he had been talking about, and I didn't care.
       * * *
       I got up about ten minutes to six the next morning and went downstairs to the kitchen. Tim and I usually got up at 6:30, but I was wired that morning. I had a party to put on. Rick came in from running while I was putting the coffee on. I was in briefs. I had already pissed, but I still had morning wood.
       "Morning," he said as he passed me. He thumped my dick hard, and it hurt. That sucker went down quick, though.
       "Bastard," I said to him. Then he flicked my ass hard with the tips of his fingers, like we used to do in middle school, and that hurt like hell, too. He was grinning at me so big, though, I couldn't get mad at him.
       "You fucking kid," I said.
       "You fucking grownup," he said in reply. We both laughed.
       After I made the coffee, I went back upstairs to Jus and Brian's room. I wasn't supposed to go in unless they invited me, but I did that morning. He and Brian were both naked, like I knew they would be, and they were both hard as rocks.
       I nudged Justin.
       "Wake up," I whispered.
       "Hey, stud," he said with a big grin. "Get in and warm up with us."
       I was tempted to snuggle up with that big ole boy, but I resisted.
       "No. You get up, and don't talk so loud. You're going to wake up Brian," I whispered.
       He got out of bed.
       "Put your underwear on," I said.
       He did, and we went down to the kitchen by the back stairs.
       "I've got to piss," he said. He was whispering then.
       "Well, go piss," I said in a normal tone of voice.
       He came back into the kitchen in a couple of minutes, and he was still very hard.
       "I was like that when Rick came home from running, and he thumped the shit out of my dick. Then he flicked my ass. I'm probably going to be bruised front and back," I said.
       He laughed.
       "Kyle, I want to ask you something."
       "What?"
       "You said last night I was your best friend. Did you really mean that?"
       "Hell, yeah, I meant it. I've told you that before. You just don't remember," I said.
       "No, you haven't, Kyle. I would definitely remember something like that, dude. You're my best friend, too," he said.
       "I know. I could tell. I thought you could tell that about me, too," I said.
       "Well, I hoped it was true, but hearing you say it in front of all of them just about made me go crazy, man."
       "I'm the lifer type, Jus, so this is it, man."
       "What about Philip," Jus asked.
       "Philip is my kid best friend. You're my grownup best friend. Does that make any sense?"
       "I love you," he said.
       "I love you, too," I said in return. Jeez. It was too early for that kind of talk.
       We poured ourselves cups of coffee and sat down at the table. Justin wanted a smoke, so he went out into the den and grabbed a pack from out there. I hadn't smoked a cigarette in almost two weeks, but I had one with him that morning. I got light-headed as hell from that cigarette, but I couldn't let him know that. I had an image to uphold.
       Justin and I cooked breakfast for the gang that morning. Kevin and Rick went off to work after breakfast, and Tim and Brian had to go to school. I had forgotten that they depended on me for a ride, so I ran upstairs real quick and put on some jeans. I didn't bother with a shirt. That was a big mistake, I soon learned, because it was cold. Regardless, though, I drove them to school. When I got back home, Justin had cleaned up from breakfast.
       "Do you want to take a shower together," Jus asked.
       "You know I want to, but I can't do that. Okay? Do you know what I mean?"
       "Yeah, I know, you dick-whipped motherfucker." He was grinning real big.
       We were both back downstairs in about twenty minutes.
       "It's still pretty damn early. Do you want some more coffee," I asked.
       "Yeah," he said. He took out his pack of smokes and offered me one. I said 'no.'
       "Kyle, how much do you smoke a day," he asked.
       "I don't smoke every day," I said.
       "Why do you smoke at all," he asked.
       "'Cause I like smoking sometimes," I said.
       "I can understand that," he said.
       Justin and I had business to attend to. The first place we went was the supermarket. I ordered the cake, and they said they would have it ready by the next afternoon. While we were there, we did the bulk of our grocery shopping for the party. I had a list, but I was sure I'd probably forgotten something. They had some awesomely large artichokes, and I got eight of them. I got five plastic bags of salad greens, and for the grilled vegetables I got eight eggplants, twenty yellow squashes, twenty zucchini, and ten each of green and red sweet peppers. I got three large packs of mushrooms, too. I picked up two bags of yellow onions and a couple of bunches of green onions. We got veggies for the vegetable trays, and three packages of dried dip, and the stuff to mix it with, too, besides what we bought to grill. We got the sausage and canned spicy tomatoes for the dip, the polish sausages to grill, and we bought lots of chips for the cheese dip, too. I bought four one-pound blocks of processed cheese, and garlic and Italian breadcrumbs and grated Romano cheese for the artichokes. I didn't forget the olive oil, either. I bought it all.
       The total was around $185.00. I pulled out my credit card and ran it through the machine. I made sure I had the family one that Rick had given me for that.
       Next we went home to put all that stuff away. We didn't put the vegetables in the refrigerator because it couldn't hold everything. I only put perishable stuff in there. There was another refrigerator and a big freezer in the utility room, but I knew we'd need that refrigerator for the rest of what we had to buy. The refrigerator in the clubhouse would be reserved for beer, soft drinks, and white wine. The red wine that I was serving with dinner stayed out.
       "We're going to need to go into town for this next trip. Can we take your truck," I asked Jus.
       "No. I don't want your smelly ass in my truck," Jus said.
       "You want my smelly ass in your bed, but you don't want it in your truck? Is that what you're saying?"
       "You got me last on that one, Bubba."
       He and I both laughed.
       "What do we need the truck for," he asked.
       "I'm hoping we can buy some tables and chairs," I said.
       "Kyle, we can take my truck, but it's just a pick-up. How much shit are we talking about, man?"
       I thought for a few seconds.
       "Maybe we'll need to make more than one trip. But I want this thing all set up today," I said.
       "Why? What are you going to do tomorrow?"
       "I'm going to cook. What do you think I'm going to do?"
       "Kyle. Dude. Why are you so into this party? I mean, I appreciate it, and all, that you would do this for Brian, but I'm just wondering."
       "I'm doing it for Brian, but I'm doing it for more than him. I love Brian, but I also love the people Brian loves, you know? Face it, man. Brian and Tim are best friends, just like you and me are. And Kevin's family is coming from New Orleans. And my parents and all our friends are going to be here for it. Plus, I just want to prove I can do this. Does that make any sense? "
       "Yeah, it does."
       "Okay, so let's get cracking."
       I looked in the phone book to see if there was any place that might sell what I was looking for. I basically wanted four ten-top fold-up round tables and forty nice upholstered stacking chairs to go around them. I called six or eight places that sold furniture, but none of them had anything like what I wanted.
       "Damn," I said after the last call. I was pissed.
       "What's the matter," Jus asked.
       "None of these fucking so-called furniture stores have what I want, that's what's the matter," I said.
       "What is it you want?"
       "I want tables and chairs like they have at the hotels. Round tables that seat ten people, and forty chairs to go with them. Three of these fuckers said I'd have to order those from a restaurant supply company. We ain't got time for that."
       "Why don't you just borrow them for the party and then order you some later."
       "Borrow them? Who would I borrow them from? Huh?"
       "Kyle, sit down," he said.
       He stood up and got behind me.
       "Take your shirt off," he said.
       "Justin, don't start, man. You know where I stand on that."
       "This ain't sex, dude. Just take your shirt off."
       I trusted him, and I took my shirt off. In a second, I felt his hands on my shoulders and neck. He was giving me a massage.
       "Kyle, these muscles are like steel, dude. Just relax and take some deep breaths."
       His hands felt really good. He kneaded my muscles hard, but I guess I needed that. After a few minutes, I started to relax.
       "How many hotels does your daddy own," he asked.
       "I don't know. Ten or twelve. You know better than I do," I said.
       "He owns eleven, Bubba, and four of 'em have more than 400 rooms. They're big, Kyle."
       I was loving what he was doing, and I didn't want him to ever stop.
       "Do you know what that means, Bubba?"
       "That we can have a whole lot of company, if we want to," I said.
       He popped the side of my head pretty hard. That was already the third time that day I had gotten hit, and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet. He and I both laughed, though.
       "No, asshole, it means you can probably borrow four tables and forty chairs from those hotels. Do you have any pull with the boss man?"
       I didn't say anything because I didn't want him to stop doing what he was doing. Timmy gave me massages sometimes, and I gave them to him, but nobody had ever done to me what Jus was doing just then. Him touching me like that had made my dick hard, but I knew he didn't mean for that to happen.
       "Who's the boss," I finally asked.
       "It's this real hard-ass named Kevin Foley. But I work for him, so maybe I have some pull," he said.
       We were both laughing, and I felt sort of dumb for not thinking of that before.
       "And you know what else," he asked.
       "What?"
       "They have table cloths and napkins to go with those tables. And silverware, too. And plates. Really nice plates. No cracks or chips. And they even have cups and saucers and glasses you can use in the bar, and all sorts of shit."
       I was laughing so hard I could hardly stay in my chair, and Jus was loving it.
       "Would you call Mr. Foley and see if he can help us out," I asked.
       "You call him. I have his number," he said.
       He stopped rubbing me down and got a phone. He handed it to me, and it was already ringing because he had pushed the speed-dial button for Kevin.
       "Hi, Kev. It's me. Kyle," I said.
       "Kyle who?"
       "Kyle Goodson. What the fuck Kyle do you think it is," I asked.
       "What do you want?"
       He always teased me when I got him on the phone at work, which I didn't do often. It sounded like he was outside or something. I heard some laughing in the background.
       "I was calling to see if I could borrow some tables and chairs and table cloths and dishes and shit for Brian's party. From one of the hotels. I couldn't find any tables like I want anywhere in town. They told me I'd have to order them from a restaurant supply place, but we don't have time to do that."
       I heard more laughing.
       "Where are you," I asked. "It sounds like you're outside. I can hear people laughing," I said.
       "I'm in my office, and the people laughing are your father and Rick. I'm on speaker."
       "Hi, Dad. Hi, Rick. Make him let me borrow that stuff, you guys."
       "Why didn't you think of that first thing, son," my dad asked.
       "I don't know. All I was thinking of was they would need it in the future, so we might as well buy it now. I was going to charge it to Goodson, Dad. I hope that was all right."
       "That's what you should have done, son, but we'll see that they get fitted out later. Right now you have a problem, don't you?"
       "Yes, sir. Make Kevin tell me it's okay to borrow the stuff we need, Dad. Please."
       "You know it's okay, Kyle," Kevin said. I could hear them all laughing.
       "So, where do we get it," I asked.
       "Where are you right now," Kevin asked.
       "I'm at home. At your house. Justin and I just bought a lot of the groceries."
       "I'll send some guys over with the stuff, and I'll ask Mary Ann to go with them to supervise them setting the tables. You and Jus get on about your business. They'll be able to get in. I'll give Mary Ann the code to the clubhouse lock. How many do you need?"
       "I was going to buy four ten-tops and forty chairs, but we're only having thirty people, so three and thirty, right?"
       "I guess you need table setting for that many, too, huh?"
       "Yeah."
       "Okay, I'll take care of it, and I really do appreciate you and Jus doing all of this, Bubba," he said.
       "Thank you, Kevin," I said. "And thank you, too, Dad."
       "No problem," Kevin said. "Now get the hell out of my life."
       They all laughed hard at that ending. I laughed, too, and then we hung up.
       "Phew, that's a relief," I said to Jus.
       "What'd he say?"
       I told Jus what had just happened on the phone.
       "You've got to think of all angles, Bubba," he said.
       "I know. I just learned that lesson. I won't be making that mistake again."
       "And see, you've already taught me something. This is supposed to be a training day for me, you know, and I just learned an important lesson," Jus said.
       "What?"
       "That you're a dumbass. That's important to know about somebody who's going to be your boss someday," he said.
       "Asshole."
       "Dumbass."
       "Don't stop doing that, Bubba. That feels so good." He had stopped massaging my shoulders and neck.
       "No. Get up."
       He pinched the shit out of my right nipple, and it hurt.
       "What is this, Abuse Kyle Day?"
       "It looks like it. Come on. Put your shirt on so we can go."
       "Okay, but I've got to make one call first," I said. I looked up the number of the butcher shop we did business with and told them what I wanted. They said they'd have it ready around one o'clock.
       * * *
       We were in my car, but Jus had wanted to drive. I let him.
       "Have you got him a present," I asked.
       "Yeah, I bought him a gold chain like he gave me for Christmas. Do you think he'll like that?"
       "What guy wouldn't like that," I asked. "It's kind of neat that y'all will have the same chain."
       He smiled nice.
       "What can Tim and I get him," I asked.
       "He told me he likes radio controlled model airplanes. You could get him one of those."
       "Oh, man. That's perfect," I said. "I guess we could get one at Toys-R-Us. You think?"
       "What is that? A toy store?"
       "Jesus, Bubba. You don't know what that is," I asked.
       "I don't know toy stores, Kyle. Come on, man. You know me."
       "I'm sorry, dude. I forget sometimes, you know? You fit in so good with us, I forget sometimes."
       "I know. I ain't pissed at you, Kyle. Let's go to that store and see what they have."
       "It's in town. We have to go to town for a lot of things. We still don't have the meat and potatoes," I said.
       The first place we went in town was the toy store. They had a bunch of toy airplane model kits, but they didn't have any radio controlled ones. The manager knew what I was talking about, though, and he looked up a place in the phone book that sold them. I thanked the guy for his help.
       "We need to buy something here because he was so nice to us," I said to Jus. "Do you think Bri would like a kite?"
       "Yeah, I guess so," he said.
       "They're not real expensive. I used to love flying kites when I was in Cubs."
       "Cubs?"
       "Cub Scouts. We used to have a contest every year to see who could build the best kite that would really fly. Did you ever do that? Fly a kite?"
       "No."
       "Let's get kites. You want to?"
       "Whatever you want, Bubba," Jus said.
       "Let me call them to see if they want me to buy Brian a present," I said.
       I called Kevin on my cell.
       "Hello," he said. I called his private number, so he answered it himself.
       "Hey. It's me."
       "Who is this," he said. He did it to me again.
       "It's Kyle, and don't say Kyle who. I'm buying a present for Brian. Do you and Rick have something for him?"
       He started laughing. "What are you getting him?"
       "I'm getting him a radio controlled model airplane. He likes those. Do you want me to get him something for you all to give," I asked.
       "We're giving him the same thing we gave you, but get him a plane from us, too. A nice one, hear?"
       "Justin, too," I asked, meaning the trip.
       "Yeah. The same time as you and Tim. Can New York handle the four of you guys at one time?"
       "Oh, Kevin! That is so cool, man. Thank you so much! We're going to have a blast. Why don't you and Rick go, too?"
       "No. We want you guys to have an adventure on your own. We'll all go some time, though. Listen, I need to go. Thanks for thinking about us, Bubba."
       "Okay. Bye."
       He said bye and hung up.
       "What did he say," Justin asked me.
       "He said to get one from them, too." I didn't say anything to Justin about the trip because part of the surprise was for him, too, but I was about to piss my pants I was so excited about that.
       I bought two cloth kites, one for Brian and one for the rest of us to have to play with. Then we went to the model store. I didn't really know what I was looking for, but the guy in there was pretty helpful. I ended up buying a Sturdy Birdy II and a Sky Trick. The Sturdy Birdy was going to take some work to put together, but the Sky Trick was ready to fly. I got the batteries they needed, too.
       "Man, I'm excited about these presents," I said.
       "You get excited about everything, don't you," Jus said.
       "Yeah. Am I getting on your nerves?" I sometimes got on my parents' nerves when I was too excited.
       "No. You're fun to be around when you get excited." He was laughing at me, and he made me laugh, too. I knew I got too excited sometimes, but I didn't know it made me fun to be around.
       "We need to get some party decorations, don't you think," I asked.
       "Like what?"
       "I don't know. I know where there's a party store, though. Let's check it out."
       We went to the party store. I bought a big canvas banner that just said "Happy Birthday." I figured we could use that more than once. Then I bought some sparkly things to spread out on the tables. I had been to a few things where they had that stuff on the table, and it added a lot to the festivities.
       "You know what we need," I said to Jus.
       "No, what?"
       "We need some flowers for those tables, don't you think?"
       "I don't know. I guess. How do you think of stuff like that, man," Jus asked.
       "I don't know, but for it to be nice, we have to have fresh flowers," I said.
       "Where do you get them?"
       "At the grocery store. Ain't you ever seen the flower department in a grocery store?"
       He shrugged like he didn't know what I was talking about.
       We were at a strip mall, so we went to the grocery store that was there. I told the lady in the flower department what I wanted, and she said she could have three nice sets of flowers ready in about an hour. It was already 11:30, so Jus and I decided to get some lunch. There was a fast-food Italian place in the shopping center, and that's where we ate. There were a bunch of high school kids in there from one of the high schools in town.
       "Do you see that girl checking you out," I asked Justin.
       "Yeah. She's pretty cute, too," he said.
       "Do you ever think about having sex with a girl?"
       "I have," he said.
       "You've had sex with a girl," I asked. I was a little surprised.
       "No, dummy. I've just thought about it. I've never done it," he said.
       "I think about it sometimes," I said.
       "Does it bone you up?"
       "Yeah. A little, at least. I think I could do it, if I wanted to. Trouble is, I don't want to."
       He laughed. "I hear you, bro. How did you figure out you were gay?"
       "I always felt like I was different from other guys when it came to some things. I mean, I liked sports. Still do, in fact, and I was pretty good at them. I liked other 'guy' things, too, like fishing and camping and boating, and all that. I liked to look at boys, especially naked boys or guys with their shirts off. I also liked to think about somebody tying me up naked and rubbing all over me. I always pictured a naked boy doing that. My dick would get really hard, and I'd come. I didn't shoot anything, but I'd still come."
       "Would you like for Tim to tie you up and make you come?"
       "Not now," I said. "I used to think about that when I was like seven years old. You're not going to tease me about that, I hope. I don't mind being teased, as you well know, but I don't want to be teased about that. I'm not into kinky stuff."
       "Shit, Bubba. Give me some credit, man. I won't even tell Brian you told me that, Stud. Besides, that ain't so bad, you know?"
       "Thanks, Bubba," I said.
       "What was the first sex you ever had?"
       "The first time was with Tim. Until I met him, I only thought I might be gay. I mean, deep down I knew for sure, but that's all I would let myself think. He's the one who made me okay with it. It was almost love at first sight, for me," I said.
       "Damn, Bubba, I'm enjoying the hell out of this. As good as we know each other, I feel like I'm just getting to know a major part of you right now," Jus said.
       "Tell me about you. How did you know?"
       "Well, you know about me and Burl Jackson, and what he did to me. I guess he spotted it in me and took advantage of what he saw. I don't think I ever really had a moment when I said, 'Okay, boy, you're gay.'"
       "You just more or less always knew, huh?"
       "Pretty much. I never was really ashamed of being gay, though. You were, weren't you?"
       "I wasn't so much ashamed as scared. I thought that I'd turn into somebody like Chad or Gage. That's what I thought all gay guys were like, and I definitely didn't want to be like that. Then I met Tim, and through him I met Kevin and Rick. I knew from them that I could be gay and ordinary, just like I had always been," I said.
       "How often do you and Timmy make love, if that ain't too personal," he asked.
       "It's not too personal for you to know, dude. We don't screw every time we do something. In fact we only do that two or three times a week. We pretty much get each other off every day, though, some way. Sometimes all he has to do is kiss me and rub my nipples, and I'm off."
       "Do you guys do oral to each other," he asked.
       "Oh, yeah. That's a biggie for us. What about you all?"
       "Yeah. Brian really likes doing it to me. I like doing it to him okay, but he really likes doing it to me. He likes for me to fuck him, too. He fucks me sometimes, but I reckon he's more the bottom type, and I'm more the top," Justin said.
       "Yeah, I can see that. We're pretty much 50-50, I guess. Kevin and Rick are like us, too, I think. They don't screw every time, either," I said.
       "We don't, either. Is this conversation making you hard?"
       I laughed. "Of course it is," I said. "You?"
       He smiled and nodded. "Do you guys ever just kiss and make out?"
       "Yeah, we do. Tim likes to play with my dick. Not jerk me off, although he sometimes does that, but just play with it. He gets it hard and tries to see how long he can keep me hard before I shoot," I said. "He does some pretty amazing things."
       "I bet it's fun playing with his dick, with that foreskin and all," Jus said.
       "Yeah, it is. Especially with my tongue." I stuck out my tongue in a little point and wiggled it.
       "Shit, if you keep that up, I'm going to need to change my underwear," he said.
       I laughed. "Let's go see if the flowers are ready. Want to?"
       "Yeah," he said. "I'm ready. Thanks for talking to me, Kyle. I feel really close to you right now. I never had a best friend before, and I think I like this a lot."
       If we hadn't been in public, I would have hugged him when he said that.
       "Me, too, Bubba." We shook hands instead of what I really wanted to do, which was to hug.
       We stepped into the men's room to adjust ourselves. If I hadn't known he was hard, I probably wouldn't have noticed the bulge in his jeans. I was probably the same way.
       * * *
       The flowers were ready. They were really pretty and just the right size. I didn't want something so tall you couldn't see the people across the table from you. I was glad we were in my car instead of Justin's truck. I put the flowers on the floor of the back seat so they wouldn't turn over and get messed up as we drove.
       We spent the next hour or so getting the real food for the party. The butcher shop I had called that morning had the best meat in the whole county, and that's where we went. I got prime beef tenderloin, and I had them cut it into three-inch steaks. That meat was going to melt in everybody's mouths. I got thirty-five stuffed baked potatoes, and there were thirty-seven steaks. I knew that would be enough.
       "You know what I really like," Jus said.
       "What?"
       "Corn on the cob."
       "That's my favorite, but it ain't good this time of year. That's a summer vegetable. We'll have that at your party," I said. "What else should we get?"
       "What else is on your list," he asked.
       I checked my list, and we needed beer, soft drinks, and wine.
       "We need to go to the warehouse," I said. "Once we do that, we'll have everything, I think."
       We headed back across the bridge to the beach. When we pulled up to the warehouse, I asked, "Have you ever been here before?"
       "I've been here every day, Kyle. This is where I pick up the stuff I take to the hotels and the stores," he said.
       "Yeah, but I meant have you ever been here with me?"
       "No, but what's special about coming here with you?"
       "When you're here with me, if you see something you want, it's yours. Do you need any clothes? How many pairs of jeans do you have?"
       "Two," he said.
       "You only have two pairs of jeans!? You're getting some more. Five more, in fact. You wear the same jeans more than one day?"
       "Yeah. So what? Everybody does that, don't they," he asked.
       "No, I don't. I wear clean ones every day. Sometimes I'll wear a pair two days, but never any more than that. Do Kevin and Rick know you only have two pairs of jeans?"
       "I don't know. They only bought me one pair when I first came here. I bought the other pair myself because ole Jason said my jeans stunk," he said.
       "I'll bet they don't know that. We're getting you clothes while we're here," I said.
       We got the soft drinks, beer, and wine loaded up in the trunk of my car, and then we went back to do some clothes shopping. I was shocked that my own brother didn't have more clothes than he had, and I made a mental note to bring that matter up with Kevin and Rick. Justin made his own money, and I knew they weren't giving him an allowance. The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I started to get.
       "What size jeans do you wear," I asked Justin.
       "I don't know. Look on the back of these. They fit me good. You seem like you're pissed off, Kyle. What did I say, man?"
       "Yeah, I am pissed off, but not at you. I'm pissed off at Kevin and Rick for not taking better care of you, Bubba. Damn, I can't believe you only have two pairs of jeans. That's all you ever wear. They're going to hear from me about this. As much money as we all have. Shit! It's ridiculous that they would let their son try to get by with two pairs of jeans. How many pairs of underwear do you have? And socks? And shirts, for that matter?"
       "I've got enough, Kyle."
       "You might have enough for you, but you don't have enough for me."
       "Why do you care how many pairs of underwear I have," he asked.
       "Because I just do, that's why. And, hey. Come here. I wanted to do this before, but we couldn't 'cause of where we were."
       "What?"
       I grabbed him and hugged the hell out of him. He didn't respond at first, but then he hugged me back.
       "You're a damn good guy, Justin, and I'm proud you're my brother and friend," I said. I started to tear up, but I held it back. He did tear up, though, and I didn't turn him loose until I knew he was over that.
       We got a lot of stuff for him, and he was beaming because of it. They had all kind of clothes in that warehouse besides jeans and underwear. We got him some nice shirts, too.
       We left that place loaded down with shit for Justin, and I felt really good about all of it.
       "Jesus, Kyle, how much more do we have to do. I'm tired. Ain't you tired?"
       "That's it, I think. We need to get home and put this food away. Then I want to make sure they delivered the tables and chairs, and set 'em up right. We're going home now."
       "Kyle, this is the first day you and I have ever spent together, just the two of us. Did you realize that?"
       I thought about that for a few seconds. He was right.
       "We spend so much time together, but it's always with the others around, isn't it," I said.
       "Yeah. I want to do this some more, Kyle. Just you and me out having fun together. This has been a great day for me," he said.
       "For me, too, and, yeah, I want to do this some more, too. Do you think Tim and Brian will be jealous," I asked.
       "I really don't think so. You said before you thought they were best friends, and I really think they are, too. Tim's been spending a lot of time with Brian on his Eagle Scout project, and I really don't think they'd be jealous. Just friends, though. No sex," Justin said.
       "You say no sex. Man, you've been trying to seduce me the whole day," I said.
       "Kyle, I'm not going to lie to you, man. I would love to have sex with you. Full out tongue-kissing, cock-sucking, butt-fucking sex. But I really do love Brian, Bubba, just like I know you love Tim. I want the four of us to be best friends for life, Kyle. You said this morning you're a lifer, and I want to be a lifer, too. I won't do that seduce thing anymore. I promise. The four of us are too close to let sex get in the way."
       I thought about what he said for a few minutes.
       "We can do stuff like the four of us have been doing together, though, can't we," I asked.
       "You like that, do you," he asked. He was teasing me.
       "Yeah, I like it, and you do, too. Don't tell me you don't," I said.
       "I do like it, Kyle. I meant no sex between just the two of us," he said.
       "I know. We're brothers, right?"
       "You're my brother. I hope I'm yours," Justin said.
       "We're going to be totally awesome when we're grownups, aren't we," I said.
       He was grinning and laughing and being real cute. "I think we're pretty awesome now," he said.
       "I think we're pretty awesome now, too," I said.

Chapter 7

(Justin's Perspective)
       Spending the day with Kyle getting the stuff for Brian's party was great. He was so damn excited about everything that it was almost catching. When I first met him and Tim, I thought they were goody-goodies that I wouldn't ever like; eight months later, Kyle was my best friend, my brother, even, and Tim was my brother, too. Unbelievable.
       He and I talked some about sex. Before that day there was sort of a tension between him and me about sex. I would love to get that hot ass of his in bed, but after that day we spent together, I knew that wasn't going to happen unless there was some super major change in his relationship with Tim. He didn't say it, but I knew Kyle considered himself married to Tim, or at least permanently committed to him. As much fun as sex with Kyle would be, it would tear our family apart and screw up everything. He said I was his best friend, and he damn sure was mine, and that's the way we were going to keep it.
       Not that I was dissatisfied with my sex life with Brian, by any means. Brian had taken to butt sex big time since we first did it in New Orleans, and he pretty much always wanted the bottom position. I didn't mind being the bottom guy sometimes, but I liked the other position better. Brian had been real gentle and careful the three or four times he had been on top, and it really hadn't hurt me at all. But there were so many memories I had of lying on my back or bending over a bed while some dude whose name I didn't even know rammed his cock into me that being the bottom just didn't appeal to me all that much.
       Kyle spent all day on the Saturday of the party cooking and making sure everything was like he wanted it. The New Orleans people got to our house around two o'clock in the afternoon, and we had fun visiting with them.
       "Mom and Dad, I can't believe you came all this way for a party," Kevin said while we were sitting in the den talking.
       "We didn't come for a party, Kevin; we came for our grandchildren," Beth said. She had me on one side of her and Brian on the other, and she was holding our hands.
       "You all haven't seen the clubhouse," Rick said.
       "Not yet, but I definitely want to. I want to shoot some pool, too," Craig said. "Are you ready to lose some money," he asked Rick.
       "I'm ready to shoot pool, but we'll see about losing money, Bubba," Rick said.
       "Would anybody like some coffee," Kevin asked.
       They all said they would, so Kyle and Rick got up to make it.
       "Has Kyle done everything for this party himself," Cherie asked.
       "Pretty much. Wait till you see it. I really don't know why he's been so eager to do all of that, either," Kev said.
       "I know," I said. "He told me that Brian is Tim's best friend, that he loves Brian, and he loves the people Brian loves. Those were his reasons."
       "What a sweetheart," Beth said.
       "I know. He's a keeper, right, Tim," Kevin asked him.
       Ole Tim blushed when Kevin said that, but he grinned and nodded big.
       After they brought out the coffee and some cookies that I didn't know we had, we all had us a little mid-afternoon snack.
       "How much more do you have to do, Kyle," Kevin asked.
       "Nothing. It's all ready. Of course, I still have to cook the stuff, but everything else is made," he said.
       "It smells wonderful, Kyle," Beth said.
       "Thanks. I hope it'll taste good," he replied.
       "Oh, I'm sure it will," Ed said.
       "He made stuffed artichokes by Odille's recipe," Rick said. "Did you taste them to make sure they were right?"
       "I ate one," Kyle said.
       "You ate a whole artichoke," Kevin asked like he couldn't believe it.
       Kyle grinned his cute little devil grin and nodded.
       "He's a growing boy," Craig said. "Right, sport?"
       "Yeah, but wait till you see how big those things are," Rick said.
       ''Grandma, Justin passed his GED on Thursday," Brian said.
       "I know. A little bird told me. Congratulations, Jus," she said, and then she kissed me.
       Everybody else said congratulations, too. I said "Thank you," and I figured that was it for me.
       "Brian, would you hand me my purse, please." Her purse was on the table at the end of the sofa, next to where Bri was sitting. He handed Grandma her purse.
       "Justin, your New Orleans relatives are so proud of you that we can hardly stand it. Kyle called us Thursday night to invite us for tonight, and the first thing he said was that you had passed. He was obviously very proud of you, too. All four of us wanted you to have this card. Just know it comes with our love and sincere congratulations."
       She handed me an envelope. I was pretty touched. A few people had given me cards for my birthday last summer, but nobody had ever given me a card for something I had done.
       "Thank you so much. This is my first card for anything," I said.
       "Open it," Grandma said.
       I was really nervous, and my hands were shaking a little bit. I knew that card was something I was going to keep forever. The cover of it showed this guy dressed in a graduation outfit, and it said, "Congratulations, Graduate." When I opened it up to read the inside, I almost shit myself. Inside was a check for $10,000.00. I know I must have looked stupid as hell, but I didn't know what to say. I just started making these little noises trying to make my voice work. Finally, I said,
       "Is this all for me?"
       I looked up, and they all had grins a mile wide, so I thought maybe it was a "got you last" joke or something.
       "Yes, it's for you," Grandma said.
       "I can't . . ." "I can't . . ."
       "Believe it," Kevin asked.
       "Thank . . ."
       "Spit it out, stud," Kyle said. He looked as happy for me as the rest of them did.
       "Thank you," I finally got out. I grabbed Grandma and gave her a big hug and kiss. Then I got up and hugged and kissed the rest of them.
       "Look at it, Brian! I can't believe it," I said.
       "Wow!" Brian said.
       "Show it to everybody," Kevin said.
       "Y'all are too . . ." I wanted to say generous, but I couldn't think of the damn word right then.
       "We're all too proud for words," Grandpa said, and everybody laughed.
       All of a sudden I got big tears in my eyes. Happy tears for sure, but crying was the last thing I wanted to do just then. I was really choked up, but they seemed to really like it that I was.
       "Well, I don't think there's any question he appreciates the gift," Grandma said.
       "Oh, I do, and thank all of you," I said. "Phew! I was excited because you got me a card. This is unbelievable."
       "Maybe you can use it for a down payment on a car," Craig said.
       "He has a truck that he paid for himself," Kevin said. "Rick co-signed a loan and then forgot about it. One night we were in here talking, and he casually mentioned he had paid it off, without ever having to be reminded he owed the money."
       "How old are you," Craig asked me.
       "Seventeen."
       "Damn, boy, when I was seventeen I didn't have sense to come in out of the rain," he said.
       "Yes, indeed, Justin. What you did is something to be proud of," Grandpa said.
       I was proud of doing it, but I didn't think it was all that big a deal. Rick had said he would kick my ass if I didn't do it, and I would have deserved it.
       "That reminds me of something," Kyle said. "Kevin and Rick, would you give me a hand with something in the kitchen, please?" His voice didn't sound like he was asking for help. They got up and left.
       "Ohhhhhhh," Tim and Brian said at the same time.
       I chuckled. "It's time for a 'private talk with Kyle.'"
       Tim, Brian, and Jeff laughed.
       "This sounds like family code," Cherie said. "What's this all about?"
       "It is," I said. "Whenever one of us says or does something out of line, Rick or Kevin or both of them take us into the kitchen for a private talk. I think I know what this is about, but I'm not going to say anything."
       "We better be good. Otherwise, Kyle will be giving us private talks, too," Tim said.
       Everybody laughed.
       They came back in a few minutes, and all three of them were smiling.
       "Did you get you a little private talk with Kyle," I asked in a teasing voice.
       Rick and Kevin both laughed.
       "Shut up," Kyle said to me. He was laughing, but I knew he didn't want me picking at him.
       "Yeah, we had a private talk with Kyle, and he was right, too," Kevin said.
       "Did he threaten to whip your ass," I asked.
       "Jeez. Shut up, Justin, man," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, you're acting like you're embarrassed, son, but you were right," Rick said. "The deal is, Kevin and I are still learning how to be parents, and sometimes we don't pay attention to everything we should. Justin never complains, he never asks us for anything, and we didn't realize he might need some new clothes. Kyle took care of that yesterday for us, and he wanted to let us know that. We appreciate what Kyle did."
       "Jesus! I can't believe you people. It's like The Donna Reed Show around here," Craig said.
       They all thought that was funny.
       "Jus, can I tell them what you said the first day you were here," Kevin asked.
       I didn't know what he was talking about, so I said "sure."
       "The very first day he was here, Tim and Kyle came home from work and got snacks for themselves and Justin, but they didn't offer me anything. I got on to them a little--very calmly, very rationally--and they both apologized and thanked me for reminding them that they shouldn't forget anyone in a situation like that.
       "This guy says, and I'll paraphrase in deference to polite company, 'It's like Leave It to Beaver around here, and I feel like Eddie Haskell.'"
       They all thought that was funny as hell, and I'm sure I turned a little red.
       "When he said that, I knew I liked him, and I knew he'd fit right in," Kevin said.
       "Let's go see the clubhouse," Kyle said. He winked at me, and I knew he had said that to get me out of the spotlight. I appreciated that, too.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I woke up at five o'clock the morning of the party. Tim was still sound asleep, and I knew he wouldn't wake up for a few hours, probably. He was on his back, and only the lower parts of his legs were covered. If there was anything at all I didn't like about sleeping with Tim, it was the way he kicked around the covers. I guess I had a lifetime of that to look forward to, though, and I knew he couldn't do anything about it. Besides, it did have an advantage. When he kicked the covers off himself and me, too, usually, he'd get cold and snuggle up to me real close. I liked that a lot. He wasn't doing that, though, so I figured he must not have been cold.
       I got up real careful and took a leak. Then I got back in bed for a few more minutes. I didn't bounce the bed or anything because I didn't want to wake him up.
       Most of the time Tim's dick is rock hard when we wake up. Sometimes, though, he gets up and uses the bathroom during the night. On those mornings it usually wasn't completely hard. He was puffed up that morning, but he wasn't hard yet.
       I love to just lay back and look at him while he's sleeping. He was like an innocent little boy, or an angel, even, when he was asleep. While I was looking at him, he got a small smile on his face, so I figured I had woken him up. I whispered his name, but he wasn't awake. I thought maybe he was having a dream, and I hoped it was about me.
       As I lay there next to him, I could feel the heat from his body. In just a few seconds, he started to get an erection, and I watched it as it got bigger. He had told me he sometimes dreams about sex, and I was wondering if he was having one of those dreams just then. As he got hard, it made me start to get hard, too. We had made love the night before, but sometimes once a day just isn't enough. I wanted him bad right then, but I didn't want to wake my baby up on a day he could catch up on his sleep.
       Just when I was starting to enjoy my hard-on and thinking I might have to take care of business myself, he rolls over onto his side, facing me. Next thing I know, he rolls again, snuggling right up on me. Uh-huh, I thought, now you're cold, you little monkey. I reach down and pull the cover up over us. I couldn't see his equipment anymore, anyway, but I could sure feel it pressing into me. I'm lying there, just enjoying the warm feelings I'm having, when he reaches over and grabs my dick. He got it low down by the balls, and I made a noise 'cause it hurt when he did that. That didn't wake him up, though.
       There I am, horny and needy as hell, with my beautiful boyfriend that I love more than anything else in the world with his hand wrapped around my dick, and him sound asleep and dead still.
       "Stroke it," I whispered, but he didn't hear me, of course.
       Damn, I thought. Do something, Tim. I'm going to have the worst case of swollen balls in north Florida if something doesn't happen soon. Then I thought, Concentrate, Kyle. I thought about Tim's beautiful ass, how sweet and soft and nice it was. Then I thought, His dick wants you, Kyle. You can feel it against you, wet and sticky and delicious.
       I put my left hand on my chest and started rubbing it around some. I used the end of my thumb to play with my nipple, flicking the ring in it up and down, up and down. I was breathing pretty hard. Then I got a mental picture of Tim licking my dick, taking the head into his mouth and gently sucking on it, swirling his tongue around. I thought about all that stuff for a few minutes. All of a sudden, I felt it start. Something inside me contracted hard, and I was suddenly pumping out cum. I let out a deep breath. God, I needed that, I thought. My angel came through for me in my time of need without even knowing it.
       I just lay there real still enjoying that good feeling you get right after you shoot. He still had my dick in his cute little hand, but my dick started to soften up. I would like to have done it again, and I would have if he had been awake, but I didn't figure there was much chance I could think myself off twice in a row. In about a minute, that was no longer an issue. He moved around again and pulled his hand away. I used my dirty underwear from the day before to clean myself up, and then slow and careful I got out of bed. Timmy was pulled up in a little ball, almost. I put the cover over him real gentle, and then I took a shower and went downstairs.
       I thought I was the only one up, but Jeff was in the kitchen when I got down there. He had made some coffee, and he was sitting at the table doing something with a laptop computer.
       "Good morning," he said.
       "Hi," I said. I poured coffee for myself, and I patted Jeff's shoulder when I walked past him.
       "Did you sleep well," he asked me.
       "Yeah. Did you?"
       "Pretty well, but I woke up so damn early. I went to a doctor in Gainesville, a shrink, and he told me that was sometimes one of the symptoms of depression, so I guess I have to live with it for a while."
       "Are you still feeling real bad, Bubba," I asked.
       "I still get depressed a little and cry, but it's nothing like it was before Christmas. The doctor told me he didn't think I have chronic depression, and he's pretty sure it will go away in time. I can tell I'm getting better, too."
       "I'm glad. I think about you all the time," I said.
       "I think about you a lot, too. You have been more than nice to me, Kyle, and thank you for that," Jeff said.
       "It's what Clay would have done for Tim if I had died instead of him," I said.
       "I know, but that doesn't make it any less special for me," he said. "Oh, by the way, I built a shell for a Web site for you. I registered a domain name, too. It's Foley-Mashburn dot com. Do you like that?"
       "Yeah, cool. What do you mean by a shell," I asked.
       "That's just the basic files that will make up the site. You're going to have to add the pictures and the text. Do you want to see it," he asked.
       "Right now?"
       "Yeah. Right now and right here on this computer. I discovered a jack. Evidently, this house is like a network or something. I just plugged my ethernet card into the jack, and I got on the Internet. I've got the site on disk, too, so you can save it to the hard drive of your computer and work with it from there. You do have a computer, don't you? You do know how to use a computer, don't you."
       He was teasing me, so I decided to play along.
       "A computer? What's the Internet? What's a Web site?"
       "Asshole," he said, grinning.
       He logged on to Foley-Mashburn dot com and a real nice page came up. It basically had the title and a few sentences welcoming people to the site.
       "Jeff, this is too cool, man. Thanks for doing this for me," I said.
       "I did it for you, but I also did it for me and the rest of the family, Clay."
       I noticed he called me Clay, but I didn't say anything.
       "Now explain to me how this is all going to work," I said. "How do I get the pictures on the site?"
       He explained about html and how I would have to use editing software to create files. The software would let me make hyperlinks that people could click on. The page would have thumbnail pictures that were actually links to other files that would have the bigger pictures.
       "It's really not hard, Kyle," he said.
       "Do you think we could have it up and running by tonight," I asked.
       "You mean for the party? Sure, I think so. Some of it, at least. Do you want me to do that?"
       "Do you mind? I want to learn how to do it so I can update it, but I'm not going to have time today to fool with it," I said.
       "By the way, this is going to cost fifty bucks a month, but I'll pay for it," he said.
       "Daddy's not going to let you pay for this. You know that."
       "That man has been so incredibly generous to me already. I certainly don't deserve it, that's for sure," Jeff said.
       "I don't deserve it, either, but he basically gives me everything I want," I said.
       "Yeah, but you don't ever ask for anything, if what Clay told me is right. Besides, you're his son."
       "This is going to come as a big shock to you, Bubba, but guess what? He thinks you are, too."
       "Well, he certainly has treated me like one, and you've certainly treated me like a brother, but you know what I mean. Look, fifty bucks is chicken feed on what he pays me for not working."
       "How about you and I split it," I asked.
       "Okay, that'll work. Anyway, I'll work on this while you cook, and we'll have it ready for everybody tonight. Where are the pictures?"
       "I have those on zip disks. Are you going to put pictures on right away?"
       "Well, yeah. That's mostly what it's going to be, isn't it," he said.
       "Hmmmm. Some of the pictures from the pool parties are of us naked. Kevin said it was okay to have pictures of guys under 18 naked as long as they weren't sexual. Maybe we should put a warning so that people like my mom won't go to those on accident. Of course, she might want to see 'em, but it should be her choice, don't you think?"
       "Yeah, that's a good idea. Let me talk to Kevin and Rick about that first, though. I know not to use last names, but we might need to get permission from people to put up nudies. Or even from their parents for young guys. No offense, Kyle, but we want this to be a good thing, not a potential pain in the ass," Jeff said.
       "Whatever they say goes, okay?"
       "Of course," he said.
       Just then the back door opened and Rick came in from his run.
       "Morning, guys," Rick said.
       We both told him good morning, and he got himself two large glasses of water and sat down. He drank the first one down without saying anything. He went slower on the second glass.
       "Good run, Rick," Jeff asked.
       "Yeah, very good. I'm in a race in a couple of weeks, and I've been trying to do a couple of long runs a week lately," he said.
       "How many miles today," I asked.
       "Twenty-two, I think." Then he checked the odometer he wore. "Nope. Twenty-four and a half today. Damn, I thought it was taking more out of me than usual."
       "You're amazing, Rick," Jeff said.
       "Is the race here," I asked.
       "No. Jacksonville. Do you want to go with me," he asked.
       "I guess we'll all go, right," I said.
       I had sort of taken it for granted that we always did stuff like that together. I didn't want him going all the way to Jacksonville to run a marathon by himself. That was ridiculous.
       "Yeah, I guess. The next Saturday Brian's going to do his Eagle Project. I guess we'll all help with that," Rick said.
       "I'll get lots of pictures of both, Jeff. Jeff is making a Web site for us, Rick. Look at it."
       I turned the laptop to where Rick could see it.
       "This looks good, Jeff. Is this live or from disk," Rick asked.
       "You know about this stuff," I asked Rick.
       "A little. The GE site comes under me, so I've had to learn a little about how to do it just to be able to talk to the guys who make it. Do you ever look at that site?"
       "What is GE? Goodson Enterprises," Jeff asked.
       "Yeah. Your employer," Rick said.
       Jeff looked sort of embarrassed, and Rick ruffled his hair to show him it was okay that he didn't know about it. Hell, I hadn't looked at it in a couple of years, or since they first put it up, whenever that was.
       "Do you ever look at it," he asked me.
       "Are there pictures of you naked on it," I asked.
       "I knew you didn't ever look at it," he said. "It really does have some good stuff about the company on it, though, Kyle. It's GoodsonEnterprises dot com."
       "How you spell Goodson?"
       "Dumbass. Are you ready to start cooking?"
       "Yeah. That's why I got up so early," I said. "Really, I just woke up naturally, but we might as well start."
       "Start cleaning and cutting your vegetables. Keep the eggplant in water, though, so it won't get black, and don't cut the skin off it. Just make slices about a half inch thick."
       "I think I'll make a breakfast run first," I said. "We're not cooking breakfast this morning."
       "Okay, but get a variety of biscuits, you hear," Rick said.
       "I know," I said. "How many people are here?"
       "I think it's just the seven of us, isn't it," Rick said.
       "Okay. Jeff, you want to come with me? We need to get dressed first, though."
       "Sure," Jeff said.
       We ran upstairs, got dressed, got the food, and were back in the house just a few minutes after Rick came back into the kitchen after his shower. He was fully dressed, too. The three of us ate, and I put the rest of the biscuits in the warming oven for the others. I had gotten six ham, six steak, and six bacon, and six sausage biscuits. Everybody liked those.
       When we finished eating, Jeff moved into the den with his laptop. I got the zip disks for him with the pictures on them, and he got busy. Every room in that house had at least one network connection, so he could move around all day and still work, if he wanted to.
       The first thing Rick and I did was to make the stuffed artichokes. The rest was really easy, and I could do it by myself. The artichokes, though, were brand new to me to make, and he had to show me how to do it from a real sketchy recipe from Odille. We mixed up the stuffing using seasoned Italian breadcrumbs, grated Romano cheese, some super-fine minced garlic, a little salt, and olive oil. We mixed up a batch of that stuff. The secret was getting it to the right consistency. It had to be wet enough with the oil that it stuck together when you made a ball of it, but dry enough that it wasn't dripping oil.
       He showed me how to trim off the sharp points of the artichoke, how to wash them, and how to drain them real good. Then we started spooning the filling between the leaves. We had eight really big ones, and it took a while to fill all those leaves. We had to make a second batch of filling, which we knew we would, and in about two hours we had them ready to cook.
       You had to steam the artichokes until a leaf came out easily. So much depended on the size of the critters and how many you were cooking that nobody could tell how long it would take. He warned me not to let the water all boil out of the steaming pots, and I was careful to do that. In about an hour, they were done. He and I tasted a leaf each, brimming with filling, and I thought I was in heaven. I knew I had to eat me one of those things for lunch. I bought 'em, I cooked 'em, and I was going to eat me one.
       I did all the other stuff that had to be done. Some of it, such as cutting the vegetables for grilling and for the veggie trays, was time consuming, but it wasn't hard. Then I remembered the damn cake around 11:30.
       Jeff was working on the Web site, Kevin and Rick needed to hang around the house for the New Orleans people, in case they showed up soon, and Tim and Brian couldn't drive. That just left my buddy Justin. I scared up his ass in the clubhouse. He was shooting pool by himself. I told him what I needed, and he was happy to do it.
       "Who's getting the oysters," he asked.
       "Good question. I hope Kevin remembered to order them. Would you mind picking them up, too? And four bags of ice? On second thought, get ten bags of ice so we can have it on hand. We'll need it for drinks and such tonight, too."
       Kevin had remembered to order the oysters, and he told Jus where to go to get them.
       "Guys, we need an ice machine in this house," I said. "This having to remember to buy ice is for the birds."
       Kevin and Rick laughed when I said that, but I was dead serious. As many people as were in and out of that house, plus all the entertaining we did, we needed a damn ice machine.
       "Who's going to open the oysters? Have you thought about that," Rick asked me.
       "The boys all know how to do it. I taught 'em," I said.
       "You're going to make Brian work at his own party," Kevin asked.
       I knew it was a set-up, but I didn't yet see where it was going.
       "Everybody can open their own," I said.
       "You'd make your own mother open oysters for herself, Kyle? I'm ashamed of you," Rick said.
       "You'd make two surgeons, whose hands are worth millions, risk mutilation and infection just so they can eat," Kevin asked me.
       I was damn sure stumped. I knew Justin, Tim, and Jeff would do it, but if I said that Kevin and Rick would come up with some reason they couldn't, either.
       "You're right. Let's don't have 'em. We have plenty of other food," I said.
       They were sitting next to each other on the sofa. Rick grabbed my wrist and pulled me down between them. They both started hugging on me.
       "You know we're all going to pitch in and get it done, Kyle. Man, you've worked your ass off on this party for us. Do you think for one minute we'd let you down?" That was Rick.
       I was kind of laughing, but I really didn't think anything was all that funny.
       "No, I know you won't let me down, but . . ."
       "But what," Kevin said.
       "But I didn't plan it good. I need to think of stuff like that next time," I said.
       "You're learning a hell of a lot, aren't you," Kevin said.
       "Yes, sir, I am. That's one reason I wanted to do this. A pool party's one thing, and I think I've got that down pretty good. But a real dinner party like this takes a whole lot more thinking, and I didn't even know some of the things I needed to think about."
       "Kyle, one day you're going to be our boss, and we won't want to have to take you out and whip your ass in the woodshed for not knowing," Kevin said.
       "That'll never happen, big brother," I said.
       "No? Why not," Rick asked.
       "'Cause the day I take over, I'm firing your asses," I said.
       "Ohhhh, he got you guys last bad," Justin said.
       I was in the worst possible place for him to say that. I was wedged between them on the sofa. They pounced on me like a cat on a cricket, and they tickled me till I thought I was going to piss my pants. I was screaming so loud that Jeff came in to see if I needed help. They finally let up, and all three of us were out of breath, and it takes a hell of a lot of energy to get a marathoner like Rick out of breath.
       I finally got Justin organized, and he took off in my car. He was back in less than an hour, and that was really all the time I needed to get everything finished in the kitchen. That was good, too, because the New Orleans people rolled in right at two o'clock.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Kyle was unbelievable. He had worked all day on Friday, the day before the party, to get everything set up. He had help, of course, in the persons of the maintenance guys and my secretary, to get the clubhouse set up for the party. He also had help from Justin on Friday, but they had done some major shopping. Rick and I had five combined years of restaurant experience at very nice places and nine combined years of hospitality administration, and it had been a real test of our skills to put on Thanksgiving dinner for twelve a few weeks before. The party wasn't going to be anything close to that elaborate, but it was for thirty people, not a dozen. In addition, we had had the main food catered at Thanksgiving, and the desserts were catered or donated. With the exception of the cake, Kyle was also going to cook the party meal. Rick and I were both ready to put on aprons at a moment's notice, but we didn't really think we'd have to.
       Rick and I both felt kind of bad about Justin. We were going to celebrate his passing the GED the next weekend when we went skiing in North Carolina, but neither of us had yet made much of it. We hadn't called our parents to tell them, and we hadn't even told Gene and George about it. Thank God Kyle had alerted my parents because I knew they would have been supremely pissed off at Rick and me if they hadn't known about it.
       Justin was so much more than appropriate when he got their gift. I knew the way he acted made them very happy, and Brian and Tim were beside themselves, too, as were Kyle and Jeff. I knew Justin had a savings account, but I thought we might have to give him some help with how to invest that money.
       The party was a great success. All of the food was superb, but everybody raved about the stuffed artichokes and the cheese-sausage-tomato dip. The grilled polish sausage slices were a hit, too. Kyle had made those in the afternoon and had heated them in the oven right before he served them. Rick, our "behind-the-line restaurant guy," hovered around to help where Kyle needed him, but he told me later he hadn't done much at all.
       After dinner we had birthday cake and ice cream. The cake was to die for, and the French vanilla ice cream with Chambord was a perfect compliment. Then Brian opened his gifts. He got a lot of clothes, which he needed (as we had learned from Kyle earlier that afternoon), books, CD's, a couple of video games. My parents, Craig and Cherie, and George and Sonya gave him a computer, which he loved. Gene and Rita gave him a check, amount undisclosed but, judging from his reaction, substantial. Justin got as excited about our gift to Brian as Brian did. Jus and Kyle grabbed each other in a hug and danced around when Justin found out that it was a week-long trip to New York City and that he was included. Jus knew Tim and Kyle were going, too.
       The gifts Brian liked best, though, were the airplanes. He opened the Sturdy Birdy first. It was from Rick and me, and he just about had a fit. Then he opened the Sky Trick from Kyle and Tim.
       "Let's put it up," he shouted.
       Brian started toward the door, and Tim and a couple of others followed him.
       "Hey, wait," Kyle shouted. They all stopped moving and focused on Kyle.
       "This party is just beginning. If I can get my brothers to help me, in a few minutes we're going to have these tables moved, and this is going to be our dance floor. Chad and Gage are the dance masters here, along with my brother Justin, and they'll lead everybody who wants to dance.
       "You see to my right a wonderful pool table and a ping pong table. We have chart paper to keep track of tournaments, should anybody be interested.
       "There's a basketball goal outside and two or three basketballs around here. It's not very cold out there, so maybe some people might be interested in a little 1-on-1? It could happen.
       "There is an unbelievable weight room that my parents gave us for Christmas through that door right over there. I know that lifting weights isn't exactly an after-dinner party activity, but let me just say this." He did a stage whisper. "Clothing optional."
       Everybody laughed.
       "Okay. I've saved the best to last. My brother, Jeff Martin, has spent this entire day working on a Web site for this family. There isn't a person here whose picture won't be on that site. I haven't had a chance to talk to Jeff to find out what he and Kevin decided about pictures of us nude at our pool parties, but . . ."
       He made his face into a mock seductive leer, and everybody screamed with laughter. It was Brian's party, but it was definitely Kyle's night.
       "Where are the computers, Jeff," he asked.
       "The den, the dining room, the living room, and out here," Jeff called out.
       "Look for frequent updates. It's Foley-Mashburn dot com. That should be easy to remember, but it's a hyphen between Foley and Mashburn. Have fun tonight in honor of my brother, our birthday boy, Brian Mathews."
       There was a big round of applause for Kyle.
       I jumped up to talk before they had finished clapping.
       "I want you all to know something." I grabbed Kyle around the shoulders. "This boy right here, our Kyle, did everything for this party. He made the guest list, he planned the food, he bought the food, he cooked the food, and he served the food tonight. You are our family, and our family needs to give this Kyle boy a standing ovation."
       They all stood and clapped for Kyle. I was so proud of him I was about to burst, and I knew Rick felt the same way I did. Maybe more. His parents, Rick, Tim, Jeff, and George had tears of pride streaming down their faces.
       Kyle overcame his shyness pretty quick.
       "Three rules. One. No more speeches. Two. The bar is open. Three. Everybody has to have fun."
       It was 9:30 on a Saturday night, and I knew our friends and family would party on for several more hours.
       The next morning I expected a mess. When I got downstairs, the only thing I found was stacks of clean dishes and silverware on the counters, a fresh pot of coffee, and my mother.
       "Good morning. Did you rest well," I asked as I poured myself some coffee.
       "Good morning. Yes, but I think I've gotten more aerobic exercise in the last month dancing with your kids than I have in the last year put together," she said.
       "You like those kids, don't you, Mom," I said.
       "No, Kevin. I don't like those kids. I love those kids. They're my grandchildren, son, and I thank you and Rick for giving them to me."
       "You and Dad have been so good to them, and so generous."
       "Well, they've had so little, and we can afford to spoil them."
       "Justin was poor, but some of them have had quite a lot. Like Kyle. Mom, that boy is rich in his own right, never mind what his parents have," I said.
       "I'm not surprised, but you'd certainly never know it from the way he behaves, would you?"
       "No, and that's a tribute to him and to Gene and Rita. He worked his butt off on that party. Can you believe a seventeen-year-old boy could put on something like he did last night? And almost single-handedly?"
       "Yeah, that's pretty remarkable," she said.
       Tim and Kyle came down the back stairs just then, dressed only in their briefs. When they saw my mother in the kitchen, they turned fast and ran up the stairs, laughing. They came back down fully dressed in a couple of minutes.
       They both kissed Mom good morning, and then they got themselves some coffee.
       "Where's Rick," Kyle asked.
       "He was still asleep when I got up," I said. "Aren't you guys tired? Especially you, Kyle."
       They both shrugged.
       "Do you want me to cook," Kyle asked.
       "Aren't you tired of cooking," I asked.
       "No, I'll do it. I'll make some scrambled eggs and warm up the sausage left over from last night and put it all in this warming pan. We can just set it out, and people can eat when they're ready. Does that sound good," Kyle asked. He had used a warming pan from the hotel the night before, and it was clean and on the counter.
       "Yeah, if you don't mind doing it," I said.
       "Kevin, we've got a houseful of people who are going to be hungry when they wake up. Everybody's always hungry the morning after a big meal like last night. Why is that, Grandma," he asked.
       "To tell you the truth, I don't know. I probably should know, and maybe I even did, once upon a time. Ask Grandpa. He might know," she said.
       Kyle and Tim got busy. He scrambled three dozen eggs and supplemented them with a carton of egg whites. He warmed the sausage slices in the microwave for a couple of minutes.
       "Tim, put some bread in a basket, and take this toaster out to the dining room. People can make their own toast as they need it," Kyle instructed.
       "Okay. Butter and jelly and all that, too?"
       "Yeah. Make sure you plug the toaster in," Kyle said.
       In twenty minutes, they had breakfast ready for the eleven people who were in our house. Mom and I, and the two boys, went ahead and ate at the breakfast room table. When we were finished, Mom went upstairs to get Dad and Craig and Cherie so they could get on the road pretty soon. Tim excused himself, too. Kyle got our plates taken care of.
       "Sit down. I want to talk to you," I said to Kyle.
       He got an apprehensive look on his face.
       "Kyle, I can't tell you how proud of you Rick and I are," I started.
       He grinned. "Phew! I thought I was in trouble."
       "Far from it, Bubba. You were terrific with the party. There aren't many guys your age who could have done that, and you did it like a champion."
       "Thanks, Kevin. It makes me feel good to hear that." He was blushing a little bit, but his grin told me he was happy.
       "Well, you should be proud of yourself, son. We are."
       "I think everybody had a good time, don't you?"
       "Yeah, I know they did," I said. "I sure did."
       "Brian really liked his presents, too. Did you take a turn flying the plane? That is really cool."
       "No, but I will. He told me he wants me to fly it. What are you going to do today?"
       "I guess I need to get all this stuff back to the hotel, and Jeff's going to teach me how to update the Web page," he said.
       "We'll get all this stuff taken back tomorrow, so don't worry about that. Do you have any homework?"
       "I don't know. I wasn't in school Friday. The only hard thing I'm taking right now is trig, though. But even that isn't as hard as Algebra II was last semester. This is going to be it for math, though. I'm not taking calculus next year."
       "Can you call somebody to find out about homework," I asked.
       "Not really. Morgan Crawford is the only person I know in trig, and he wasn't there Friday, either."
       "Well, just make sure you make up what you missed, okay?"
       "I will. I always do." Pause. "I want to talk to you about something."
       "What's that?"
       "Some people at school have been talking to me about running for SGA president for next year. I wanted to know what you thought about that," he said.
       "SGA? What is that?"
       "Student Government Association."
       "Wow! Who's been talking to you?"
       "The sponsor, for one, and the principal, too. Some kids, too," he said.
       "Have you been active in student government," I asked. I knew he and Tim stayed busy with scouts and school activities, but I wasn't really aware of exactly what they were involved in, except the Drama Club.
       "Well, I've been in it, if that's what you mean? I'm the junior class rep this year."
       "I didn't know that," I said.
       "There's a lot about me you don't know, buddy," he said, grinning devilishly.
       "I'll bet there is," I said. "Do you want to do it?"
       "Yeah, I kinda do. Last year only one person ran, so she's the president this year. The one guy who says he's going to run is a real prick, and I'd hate for him to get it without an election, you know?"
       "What does Tim think about it?"
       "He wants me to do it. All my friends want me to do it."
       "When is the election," I asked.
       "Oh, not until the first week of May, so there's plenty of time. But if I'm going to run, I want to put the word out early so people can be thinking about me. Oh, did you talk to Jeff about the Web page?"
       "Yeah, I did. Rick and I both talked to him together, in fact. We talked to Craig about it, too. From the legal point of view. I guess you're wondering about the nude pictures, right?"
       He nodded.
       "They're some great pictures. Craig said what I thought I already knew, which is that nudity per se isn't illegal, even nude pictures of minors. Any sex involving minors is out, though."
       "I know that. Those pictures of me that Justin took when I was shooting pool and got hard aren't really sex pictures, but I think we probably don't want any boners, even natural ones, right?"
       "Yeah, that would be my call, and I know those pictures of you aroused aren't sex pictures, Bubba. Justin was just being a bad boy," I said.
       He chuckled. "I was being a bad boy, too, but I didn't get hard from sex--that time, at least."
       "Anyway, we need to get signed permission from parents, or from the person himself if he's an adult, before we put up any nudes. Jeff suggested password protection. How do you feel about that?"
       "This site is mainly just for us and our families and friends. I realize anybody can probably find it, but who would be interested? But, yeah, the password is a good idea. For the whole site, in fact, really."
       "Okay, well, work with Jeff on that."
       "I will, and thanks," he said as he got up to leave.
       "Thank you again for the party, Bubba."

Chapter 8

(Brian's Perspective)
       I had the best birthday of my life. I hadn't even had the official one yet, but the birthday party was wonderful. I knew Kyle had been in charge of everything, and I knew he worked really hard to make it so nice.
       I used to want Kyle for my boyfriend. He has it all, I think, and I think he's really, really sexy, too. I used to sit on the sofa or in a chair in the den and watch him sometimes. He might be reading or watching TV or something, and every time I did that I got an erection. The first time I saw him naked I couldn't take my eyes off him. His penis isn't any bigger than Justin's or Tim's, but it's beautiful. I know that's a strange word to use about a penis, but it's true, at least to me. I've seen Kyle hard a few times, too, and every time I see it I want to just take it in my mouth and swallow it. That time we were playing strip pool and he lost all his clothes, he got an erection. I looked at Jus and Tim, and they were just as hard as I was from looking at him.
       Now that Jus and I are boyfriends, I really don't want Kyle as a boyfriend anymore. I think I'm in love with Justin, and he sure makes me happy. He and Kyle are best friends, and I try extra hard to please Jus because I'm afraid he'd leave me for Kyle in a heartbeat, if Kyle wanted him to. Tim and I are best friends, and we've talked about it.
       "Tim, do you ever worry about losing Kyle," I asked him one day.
       "What do you mean? Like him dying like Clay," Tim asked.
       "No, I mean him finding another boyfriend."
       "Kyle loves me," Tim said.
       "That's pretty obvious, Bubba, but he could have anybody he wants. You see how people look at him, especially girls. And a bunch of guys, too."
       "You used to want him, didn't you?"
       "Yeah, but that was before Jus and I got together and before you and I became best friends. I'd never go after Kyle now, Tim. I want you as my friend forever, dude. I'm not going to do anything to risk losing you."
       "Do you think Jus would ever go after Kyle," Tim asked.
       "I hope not, but I know there was a time when Jus wouldn't have said no to whatever Kyle wanted. I think Justin is in love with me now."
       "Yeah, I know he is. He'd kill somebody for you, man. I know that."
       "I know."
       "Bri, this is making me kind of scared. If Kyle left me, I don't know if I could make it. It would kill me, I think," Tim said.
       "You and I need to make sure neither one of them has any reason to ever want to leave us," I said.
       He didn't say anything. We were working on my Eagle project, and we just went back to work without talking about it any more.
       The other kids at school love Kyle, too. He's always friendly with everybody, and he has tons of friends, from what I can tell. He has a couple of real good friends who are girls, and I know they'd do anything sexual he wanted them to do. I heard some guys talking in the library one time about him. They called him Goodson, instead of Kyle, and one guy said he thought Goodson might be a fag. I got kind of scared when I heard that. Another guy said, "Goodson ain't no fag, asshole." The third one said, "Even if he is, he's still a hell of a good guy." That made me relax when I heard that. I thought about it for a few days, but I decided not to tell Kyle or Justin.
       The day after my party, Tim, Jus, Rick, Kevin, and I played with my two new model airplanes after the New Orleans company left. I had to show them how to do it. It looks easy when you see somebody who has some skill do it, but it's a lot harder than it looks, especially when you first start. Justin got kind of bored after he had had a couple of turns, and he went into the house. He said he was going to take a nap.
       I stayed out a couple more hours, and we all went inside around four o'clock. I went up to our room to put the planes away. Justin was in bed naked, and he was watching TV.
       "Did you take a nap," I asked.
       "Yeah. It was a good one, too. It was too late for me to give you your birthday present last night, so I want to give it to you right now." He was smiling so cute. I was hoping it was what I thought it might be.
       He got out of bed, and he was hard. He walked over to me, and I put my hand on it, soft and gentle.
       "Does my birthday present involve this big boy," I asked.
       "It sure does." He was still smiling, and I was getting harder and harder by the second.
       He took me in his arms and kissed me. He put his tongue into my mouth, and we rubbed our tongues back and forth, kind of teasing one another. Then he started undressing me. I love for him to do that. It seems so intimate to me, like he's taking possession of me, unwrapping me like a present.
       We kissed some more, and we rubbed our dicks against one another. I was a little shorter than he was, but our dicks were almost the same height.
       "I love you so much, Brian," he said in a kind of half whisper. We were both breathing hard, and he probably didn't have the wind to say it much louder. "I'm a different person because of you. I want to make you proud of me, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep you the rest of my life."
       "Jus, that's beautiful. I love you, too. Sometimes I think about what would happen if you left me, and I get so sad I could cry. I do cry, in fact."
       "Well, I'm not leaving the best thing that ever happened to me in my life. That's for damn sure."
       He led me to bed and got on top of me to kiss some more. He moved down my body, kissing and licking every part of it. He tickled and touched and licked and tongued my butt hole, and that felt so good I almost shot. Then he put on a condom and got inside me. He held me close and kissed me while we moved back and forth. I knew I was whimpering, but it felt so good I couldn't help myself. I got real close to exploding a few times, but he changed his pace or something, and I didn't shoot. We kept doing that for a long time, much longer than usual. When I did shoot, I thought I was going to faint, it was so powerful.
       Tim had told me that sometimes Kyle stays in him after they shoot, and they've even fallen asleep like that. We were on our sides that afternoon, and Jus didn't pull out right away like he usually did. He says he can't soften up inside me because the condom might come off and get lost in me. That day, though, he stayed hard and inside me for quite a while, and that felt wonderful. If ever I started having doubts about Jus, all he would have to do is make love to me like he did that day and I'd be his forever.

(Jeff's Perspective)
       I had thought the Web site for the family was a good idea as soon as I had heard Arnie if we had one when we were in Sarasota. Kyle was a superb photographer, and he had a ton of pictures, one better than the next. I had gotten a lot of it up by party time the night before, and I spent Sunday afternoon teaching Kyle how to update it. Everybody who looked at it at the party raved about it.
       We had decided to password protect the whole thing, except the first page, of course. Since we had announced the URL at the party, I figured some of the family and friends might try to access it before they got their passwords. I decided that the password would be the same for everybody, and that the user name would be the first and last name of the person, separated by a period. Mine, for example, would be jeff.martin. If someone entered a user name that wasn't on the list of family and friends in the database, they couldn't get in. In the case of some people--Arnie Jacobs being the prime example--I entered his name on the list as arnie.jacobs and arnold.jacobs. I tried to be really clear in the directions that a person's user name was how they were addressed by people in the Foley-Mashburn circle, but some people, like Arnie, answered to two different names. I had visions of Pat Taylor, for instance, typing patrick.taylor and getting frustrated because it wouldn't let him in, so I put his and Jerry's names in the list both ways, too.
       "What if I want to show it to one of my friends," Kyle had asked.
       "Let 'em use your login," I said.
       "But won't that fuck it up, eventually? I mean, suppose I show that to someone, and he shows it to someone. It could get around, you know?"
       "Good point, but I don't have the technical knowledge of how else to do it," I said.
       "This'll be good, though. I mean, it ain't Ft. Knox we're guarding here. The worst anybody could do would be to see our dicks, and I don't care who sees my dick," he said.
       I laughed at him.
       God, it was hard for me to be around Kyle, especially when it was just the two of us like that. He looked and acted so much like Clay that sometimes I thought I was with Clay.
       "Let's put the pictures from the party up," he said.
       "Okay, but I'm going to let you do that by yourself. This is the kind of updating you'll be doing, and I want to make sure you know how. Ask if you have questions, though."
       "Okay."
       He used the template I had created for the basic page, wrote some text to explain what the event was about, and used the software I had downloaded to create the thumbnails. I read over the text to make sure it didn't have any mistakes, and it didn't. In about an hour, we had a new page to add to the site. He used the FTP software to upload everything to the server, and voila, we had a new page on the site. It had captions and everything.
       "Jeff, would it be tacky if we had a memorial page for Clay," he asked.
       I got big tears in my eyes, and I felt them roll down my cheeks.
       "I'm sorry, Jeff. Don't cry, man. I didn't say that to be mean."
       We were sitting side by side, and I grabbed him in a hug.
       "Kyle, I'm crying because that is such a wonderful idea and because you are so loving. Thank you for thinking of that. Let me make that page, though, okay?"
       He hugged me back, and he was crying, too.
       "Okay. Do you know how to digitize regular video," he asked.
       "Yeah, why," I asked after we had both settled down.
       "We have a ton of video tape of our whole family through the years, and I think it might be nice to use some of him on his page. What do you think?"
       "Where is it," I asked eagerly.
       "It's at my house."
       "Do you think your parents would let me take it back to Gainesville? I want to watch every minute of it and pick the best sequences," I said.
       "I know they'll give you a copy of them. A couple of our hotels have Business Centers that have high-speed dubbing equipment. We could go to one of them and make copies for you to have," he said.
       "Can we call your parents to see if that would be all right," I asked. "I'd love to have those."
       "We don't have to do that. I know where they are. Jeff, you still don't get it, dude. They think of you as their son now, and that makes me your fucking brother. Deal with that, okay?" He was grinning his face off.
       "Well, let's go," I said, and we took off.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Friday afternoon we left our house promptly at 3:00 PM to go skiing in North Carolina. Jeff had been all set to go with us, but he had to regret the invitation at the last minute. It seems he had been preoccupied with his and Kyle's Web site all week, and he hadn't gotten much work done on an assignment that was due Tuesday morning.
       "Jeff, I feel terrible about this," I said to him on the phone.
       "I feel bad, too, because I wanted to be with you guys," he said, "but A.) I don't ski, B.) I spent the time I should have spent on the project getting whole, and C.) I found out today that I couldn't miss class on Tuesday, even if I had the damn thing done."
       "You spent the time you should have spent on the project getting whole? What the hell does that mean, Jeff?"
       "Kyle gave me a bunch of videotapes of their family when he and Clay were growing up. It was like thirty hours worth. I watched every minute of it looking for clips for the memorial page for Clay. I found some absolutely wonderful footage, and I digitized every bit of it. That page for Clay is going to be a pretty complete picture of the man I love. I'll have it up by tomorrow night when you guys get to the cabin. Can you get the Internet there?"
       "Yeah. There's actually a cable modem there," I said.
       "Please call me when you look at it. It doesn't matter how late it is, okay? Call me."
       "Okay."
       We talked a little more about his project, and then we hung up.
       The boys did not take it well at all that Jeff wasn't going to go with us to the mountains. They got better about it when I explained why.
       * * *
       We were packed and ready for the trip when they got home from school the next afternoon. Ordinarily, Rick and I did the driving on the highway, but we had decided that Tim and Brian needed some experience. They both had their learner's permits by then, and they had both taken Driver Ed in school. Either Rick or I was right beside them in the passenger seat when they drove, and I know that I, at least, had stomped on the floor board at least a couple of times in an imaginary attempt to slow that buggy down. Teenage drivers! Jeez!
       We got to the cabin late, but I insisted we look at our Web site before we went to bed. We had a huge fire going, and we were all in just our briefs in preparation for bed. We all huddled up on the floor in front of the computer in the living room, and I went to the site. I logged in and saw the new link to Clay's page. The page itself had pictures of him through the years. In one that must have been taken when he was around six, he had Kyle in his lap. The photographer had done a wonderful job, and they were obviously laughing. We all remarked at how cute they were.
       "Yeah? He beat the shit out of me right after that was taken," Kyle said.
       We laughed, of course, but I imagined that was probably true. It would have been if it had been my brother and me.
       There were lots more pictures of him. Clay was an extremely handsome kid and young man. In several pictures he was wearing glasses.
       "What's with the specs," Jus asked.
       "He got contacts when he was fourteen," Kyle said. "That's all he wore after that."
       At the bottom of the page, there were links to several videos. The first one we watched was of Clay tickling Kyle. Clay was about ten and Kyle was about seven. They were on the floor, and Clay was working him over. Kyle's laughter was pure joy. Clay then rolled off Kyle, and there was a huge wet spot on Kyle's light blue shorts.
       "Daddy, he peed," Clay said.
       The camera bounced up and down, and all we could hear was Gene laughing hysterically.
       When the camera settled down, it focused on Kyle's face.
       "I didn't do it on purpose," he said, and that was the end.
       Everybody in the room, except Kyle, was roaring with laughter.
       "That's coming off. I don't want people seeing that," Kyle said a bit angrily.
       "Bubba, you were so cute, man. You've got to leave it," Justin said.
       "Shit," Kyle said, and he was very cute saying that, too.
       "Babe, you were just a little kid, and Jus is right. You were very cute in that video," Tim said.
       "Let's look at the next one. It'll probably be me trying to eat a load of dog shit, or something," Kyle said.
       We all laughed at that.
       The next few were sports videos. In the first one, Clay was at bat in a baseball game and hit a home run. He slid into home, no doubt because that's what his coach had told him to do, but the ball had gone over the fence.
       The second one showed Clay scoring a goal in soccer.
       The third sports one was of some kind of martial arts. It featured Clay and Kyle in a bout. They laid into each other hot and heavy, and then Kyle kicked Clay in the crotch. Clay doubled over in pain and finally fell to the mat, holding himself, screaming. Again we heard Gene's laughter, but this time we also heard Rita's rather hysterical voice as she ran out onto the mat to see about her son.
       Kyle was laughing his ass off as we watched it, but I think the rest of the guys were re-living Clay's pain.
       "He didn't get hard for a week after that shot," Kyle said, laughing.
       "Why'd you do that, dude," Justin asked.
       "I didn't do it on purpose. I was aiming for his stomach, but I missed."
       The last sports picture was water skiing. Clay and Kyle were both nude, and Kyle was standing on Clay's shoulders. They both were haired up in the pube department, and both of them were obviously man size.
       "I was fifteen and he was eighteen when this was taken," Kyle said.
       They did several tricks, including Kyle coming down off Clay's shoulders and getting behind him on the skis.
       "I better have fun on this trip because I'm probably going to be grounded for a year when my parents see that," Kyle said.
       "Because you guys are naked," Tim asked.
       "Yeah. They don't mind skinny dipping in our pool, but that was in the lagoon in broad daylight. Philip was driving the boat and a friend of Clay was taking the movie. Both of them were butt naked, too," Kyle said.
       "You were bad boys, weren't you," Brian asked, grinning. "Drunk?"
       "Yeah, we had had a few beers," Kyle said. "And I don't need a private talk, Kevin."
       Everybody howled.
       The next clip was a collage of Clay in varying degrees of dress clothes. There were some of him in a suit, some of him in a tux as he left for a prom, and some of him in regular clothes walking to different places.
       The last one was the best, by far. It had been taken about two months before Clay had died, and it was a "formal" interview between Clay and Kyle. They were seated on a sofa in their parents' house. Here is a transcript.

           Kyle: We're here with Mister Clay Goodson. He's the brother of the famous (infamous Clay interjected) Kyle Goodson, so that should help you place him. Mister Goodson, I understand you have finally gotten a friend. Tell us what it's like to finally have a friend.
           Clay: What do you mean?
           Kyle: Tell us about your friend, if you can remember anything about him.
           Clay: My friend is the best person in the universe.
           Kyle: Oh, so it's your brother Kyle.
           Clay: No. It's Jeff.
           Kyle: Oh, so tell us about Jeff.
           Clay: He's beautiful. He's smart. He's funny. He's extremely nice. He makes me happy. He gives me a reason to do my best and to be my best. More than anything, I want him to be proud of me . . .
           Kyle: All right, that's enough. Thank you for the interview. God, Clay! (facing the camera) Ladies and gentlemen, he just let loose the biggest and most powerful SBD known to mankind. It smells like a cesspool in here now.
           Clay was laughing his ass off at Kyle, and he grabbed him in a way that showed the immense affection he evidently had for Kyle. Then Clay came on the screen by himself.
           Jeff, if you ever see this, erase it. Tape over it, even if it's a Montel Williams show about a paternity test . I know we'll see each other in a few days back at school, but I miss you a lot. Take care, Jeff. I think Kyle is now going to hurt me very severely for the fart I just laid on him. It truly was SBD, Silent But Deadly. Goodbye, everybody.

       "God, almighty, Kyle. That was awesome, man," Justin said.
       "Are you okay, Bubba," Rick asked Kyle as he put his arm around him.
       "Jeff did an unbelievable job with that. Can we call him," Kyle asked.
       "Shit, I told him we'd call when we looked at the page. Yeah, let's call him," I said.
       We called Jeff, and we all got around the speaker phone.
       "Hello," he said when he answered.
       "Hey, Bubba," Kyle said. We all joined in a greeting right after that.
       "You watched it, didn't you," Jeff said.
       "Yeah. Dumbass Kevin forgot you wanted us to call you so we could watch it together. We just finished watching the videos. That page is totally awesome, man," Kyle said. "Thank you."
       "I can just hear you now, Kyle. You want to take down the one of you pissing yourself, right?"
       "I did when I first saw it, but not anymore. That happened, and you have full rights to this page to do whatever you want," Kyle said.
       "You did a masterful job with the whole thing," I said. "Congratulations, Jeff."
       "Thanks, Kevin. Do you think the last video is too self-serving," Jeff asked.
       "Not at all, Jeff," I said. "It showed two brothers playing together, and you know he meant every word he said about you. I think it's a beautiful tribute to your relationship, and it's playful and serious at the same time. I love it, man."
       "Kyle, what did you think of the water skiing clip," Jeff asked.
       "I'm probably going to be taken to the woodshed for a good ass whipping when my mom and dad see it, but I thought we looked pretty good skiing together. I wish I had had a bathing suit on, though," Kyle said.
       "Were you guys drunk when you did that," Jeff asked.
       "Yeah, but you can't tell from that clip, can you," Kyle asked, a touch of concern in his voice.
       "Not from that, but I've seen the rest of the video, remember? Kyle, watching those movies really helped me, brother. Clay was here with me on the screen, and spiritually he's here with me right now. I believe he'll never leave me. I'm really ready to get on with living now. Thank you."
       Kyle got huge tears in his eyes, but I knew they were happy tears.
       "Did you find any more good clips of Kyle being bad," Tim asked.
       "I've got at least thirty more, but we might have to have a separate Kyle page to do them justice," Jeff said. "I've got a lot more good ones of Clay, too."
       "Bring 'em home next week so we can see 'em," Tim said.
       "Oh, don't worry. I will. Tim, I know Kyle calls you a monkey, but he's the real monkey in our family. You won't believe how cute he was when he was little," Jeff said.
       Kyle was grinning then, and he was enjoying, for once, being the center of attention.
       "Jeff, it's late, buddy, and we want to ski tomorrow morning. Thanks for doing all of this for us, man. You're one in a million, that's for sure," I said.
       "I wish I was there with you so bad it hurts, but I wouldn't give up the time I spent with those videos this week for all the money in the world. Good night, my brothers. Kyle, can I talk to you for just a minute in private?"
       "Sure," Kyle said.
       We all told Jeff good night and thanks once again, and then Kyle picked up the handset and shut off the speaker. He walked into our bedroom from the living room for privacy. He came back in about ten minutes.
       "He's okay. He really is okay," Kyle said when he joined us. "God, I've been so worried about him, but he has turned the corner, and he's in the lead."
       Justin put his arm around Kyle and put his hand on Kyle's chest.
       "Kyle, I wouldn't say this in front of anybody else but us, but you're a good person, man. You really know how to heal people. Don't crack a joke, okay? Just let us praise you."
       "Thanks," Kyle said softly. Then, "Are we going to go in the hot tub tonight? I feel like I need to. I'm so wired I'm about to start sparking."
       "I'll go in with you Kyle," Tim said. Tim, always loyal to his boy.
       "I'm really tired," Rick said. "I didn't get a nap on the trip up like some people I know."
       Rick was one of those unfortunate people who cannot sleep in a moving vehicle of any kind. All of the rest of us had slept, and Kyle had slept a good four hours, or more.
       "Do you mind if I go in with them, Babe," I asked Rick.
       "You might as well. Nothing's going to happen tonight with me in that bedroom," he said.
       "What's the matter? No lead in the pencil," Kyle asked, grinning hard.
       "Plenty, but I think four times in one day should be enough, even for him," Rick said.
       "Ohhhhhh, he got you last hard that time, Kyle," Jus said.
       "I know. Go to bed. All of you. Come on Tim and Kev, let's relax," Kyle said.
       "You're going to freeze your balls off in that water. Kyle, all that white stuff out there is called snow, and it's cold. It'll take thirty minutes or more for that water to heat up," Rick said.
       "For your information, I turned it on when we first got here while you were in the bathroom trying to figure out how to get your fly unbuttoned so you could pee," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, I hope and pray that somebody doesn't cause an avalanche tomorrow right above you on the slopes," Rick said. He and Kyle were both laughing.
       Kyle went to Rick and hugged him. Rick hugged him back and kissed him on the forehead.
       * * *
       We scampered out to the hot tub and eased ourselves into it. It was probably in the mid-to-high twenties that night, but it didn't feel as cold, with 20% relative humidity, as forty felt at home with 95% humidity. The sky was perfectly clear, and we could see about a million stars.
       "Tim, your job is to count the stars, okay," Kyle teased him.
       "Do you want me to go see if I can find us each a bowl of weenie-water soup after that," Tim asked. They both laughed.
       "Kev, would it be all right if we sat close to one another and I put my arm around him," Kyle asked.
       "That will be fine, Kyle, and thanks for asking first, man," I said.
       "Why do you and Rick do what you do," Kyle asked.
       "What do you mean," I said.
       "You know. Take care of us. Tim and I have families, but this is like my real family to me. My parents are busy people, but Clay's death shot a huge hole right in the middle of the Goodsons. Don't think it didn't. You probably don't see that, but we're not the same as we were."
       "That doesn't surprise me, Kyle. About your family, I mean. I didn't know Clay very well at all, but I get the impression that you're a carbon copy of him," I said.
       "Yeah, in a lot of ways I am," he said. "We look a lot alike, and we have the same basic personality, I guess."
       "I don't know what losing Clay was like, but I know that losing you would be devastating for a whole lot of people," I said. "God doesn't make too many Clays and Kyles, and there has to be a huge void when they're taken away. Do you mind saying what Jeff told you when the two of you talked in private tonight?"
       He hesitated for a few moments. He looked at Tim, and then he looked at me.
       "Jeff has this strange idea that somehow I'm responsible for him 'getting whole,' whatever that means. He basically thanked me for giving Clay back to him. Kevin, that can't be good, can it? I mean, that he would think that?"
       "Kyle, I think that's a very common thing that happens for people in love. When my grandfather died a few years ago, my grandmother was a basket case for a few weeks. She stayed with us for about two months after he died. I was a senior in high school, and she would just sit and stare off into space for hours on end. One night she and I were in the den watching TV. My parents were out, so it was just the two of us in the house. All of a sudden she got a smile on her face, and then she said, 'He's here, Kevin. Grandpa's here with us.'"
       "Did that scare you," Tim asked.
       "Not really, Tim. There was so much peace that came over her all of a sudden that I knew that whatever was going on was good, not bad. She went home to her house about three days later, and she was her old self again. It was like she had gotten whole, just like Jeff told Kyle. He told me the same thing when I talked to him yesterday. He said he couldn't come because he had spent the week watching the videos and getting whole. Because he had spent his time doing that, he was behind in his work, and he had a big project due that he had put off working on."
       "I think Jeff is okay now. Do you," Kyle asked.
       "It sounds like he is, Kyle. He's been getting better since New Orleans."
       "Tim, he brought up that stuff we did in Sarasota. He said that the four of us returned his sexuality to him," Kyle said.
       "Wow," Tim said, obviously amazed.
       "Kev, I'm not going to tell you the details because I know you don't want to know that. But all four of us thought Jeff needed some physical release. Tim and I didn't do anything with him that we would only do with each other, and Jus and Bri didn't either, but all four of us did stuff with Jeff to let him know we love him. Physical stuff," Kyle said.
       "The details aren't important, Kyle, but the love is. Guys, this conversation has been incredible, but I'm tired as hell. This hot water has really relaxed me. I'm going to bed," I said.
       "Yeah, we are, too," Kyle said. "Kevin, we haven't had a private talk with you like this in a long time. I don't know how many kids will come through your house eventually, but don't ever forget that we're the original little brothers, okay?"
       "Kyle, hell will freeze over before we'll ever forget that."

(Kyle's Perspective)
       Kevin, Tim, and I went to bed a little before one o'clock in the morning the first night we were there, and it must have started snowing right after we went inside. It was real clear when we first went out there, but forty-five minutes later, when we went to bed, the sky had been covered with clouds. When we woke up Saturday morning, the sun was out bright, the sky was dark blue, and there were ten inches or more of fresh powder on the ground. You couldn't hear a sound.
       "Boys, God worked his wonders last night for us," Rick said. "This is an awesome snowfall for skiing."
       "I'm so excited, I can't wait," I said. I was very excited. All my life my mom and dad had told me to calm down, and I knew they would have said it that morning, too, but I couldn't help it. I was pumped.
       We were all dressed in our warm clothes for the day. We were in the den, and somebody had thrown a couple of damn logs on the fire. To tell you the truth, I had only worn thermal underwear a few times in my life, and I wasn't used to it. I was hot.
       "Aren't y'all hot," I asked.
       "I am," Rick said. "Let's get coffee and grab something to eat on the way."
       And that's what we did. We stopped along the way and ordered a ton of rib-stickers at a fast food drive-thru. We were in North Carolina, but we had to drive south into Georgia to get to the ski place. It all looked the same to me, though. Mountains are mountains.
       We rented equipment when we got to the place. I actually had a pair of snow skis at home, but we hadn't brought them because they didn't have a rack for them on the top of their Bronco. There was a place to sign up for lessons, and Kevin made Jus and Brian do that.
       "I'm going to do a lesson, too, okay, Babe," Tim said.
       "I thought you've been skiing before," I asked him.
       "I have been, but I'm kinda scared."
       He was so incredibly cute when he said that. I wanted to just kiss him.
       "Okay. I'll wait for you," I said. I said it real gentle and loving because that's how I felt just then.
       "No, go ahead. You can do it. There's no need to wait for me. It makes me feel good when you have fun, Kyle. Go do it, Babe."
       "Okay. If you're sure."
       "I'm sure. Break a leg," he said.
       I laughed. We said that 'Break a leg' line before plays at school instead of 'Good luck,' and I knew that's what he meant. But you can break a lot of legs for real on a ski slope.
       "Thanks," I said, and I made a little kiss with my mouth.
       Kevin, Rick, and I took off. We did three runs on intermediate slopes to warm up, and then we moved to advanced slopes. We did five of those, and then it was time to get something to eat. We met up with Tim, Jus, and Brian. Their lessons were over, and they were ready. The six of us ordered big lunches, and it was very good food. Jus and I ordered second hamburgers while they had dessert. Meat is my favorite food. They got Key Lime pie, which I think tastes nasty. It's too bitter. It was a touch of sunny Florida in the middle of the snow-capped Georgia mountains. I knew they got a lot of Florida people there, though.
       After lunch we all skied down some beginner hills. Jus and Bri were kind of awkward, but Tim damn sure didn't need to be on no beginner hill.
       "Did you like it," I asked Jus when we got to the bottom of the first hill.
       "That was awesome," he said.
       "You did really good, too. Let's do a couple more beginner hills, and I want you to go down an intermediate slope before the day is over," I said. "Him, too," meaning Tim.
       I made twelve runs that day, and I was very happy with that. Rick and Kevin each made seventeen, but they didn't have those boys to look after, like I did.
       We skied till nine o'clock that night, and we only quit then because that's when they closed the mountain and shut off the lights. We got home in about thirty minutes, and it only took us that long because we stopped to pick up pizza. We called ahead and told them what we wanted, and it was waiting for us at the drive-thru. It was about two miles to our house from there, and everybody in that truck made stomach noises from smelling that stuff. We all ate fast when we got home because we needed it.
       After we ate, we all got into the hot tub.
       "Where did this shit come from," Rick asked, pulling some of the hair on my chest. For some unknown reason I had started growing that stuff about three months before. He'd seen it before, I figured, but it was a lot more noticeable when it was wet.
       "Ow! It's hair, and it's coming out of my skin. That hurts when you pull on it," I said. He wasn't pulling it hard, and I was more carrying on than anything.
       "Big hairy-chested he-man here," he said.
       "You have hair on your chest," I said to Rick. "Why do you shave it off?"
       "I started doing that when I started running triathlon," he said. "Now I do it because I prefer the look."
       "I'm going to probably shave mine this summer. Tim likes it, though, don't you, Babe?"
       I figured he was blushing, but it was too dark to see. He reached down between my legs and squeezed my balls hard enough to hurt a little, but not real bad. He'd never hurt me on purpose except to tease me like that.
       "Today was the most fun I've ever had with my clothes on," Justin said.
       "I know. It was great," Brian said.
       "We're teaching you stuff, aren't we," I said.
       "Shit, I'm learning constantly," Jus said. "You ski really good, Kyle. I reckon nobody ever turned you out."
       "No, but they're fixing to when they see that video of me skiing naked down our lagoon," I said. "They're going to turn my ass out into the yard."
       "Babe, you can live with us, or with Kevin and Rick, right," Tim asked.
       "I'm just carrying on, Tim. My mom is going to pretend to be shocked, my dad is going to laugh his ass off, and that's going to be it. My dad has always called Clay and me high-spirited boys, and he likes high-spirited boys. In fact, I think he was one himself. Clay had a little bit of a wild streak in him; more so than me."
       Rick said, "Changing the subject, but is anybody interested in snow tubing? They have some snow tubing runs on that mountain."
       "I am. I've never done that," I said.
       The others said "me, too."
       "It's like tubing down a river, but it's on the snow. I think you go pretty fast, especially on the second day after a snowfall, when it's all packed down."
       "Pad your nuts, boys," I said.
       They all laughed. We got out of the hot tub right after that. We all went to bed. If the others did what Tim and I did that night, they had fun.

Chapter 9

(Kevin's Perspective)
       I woke up at 7:30 the next morning and stumbled into the bathroom for a very quick shower. I shaved, too, but it was fast and sloppy. I was sure I missed spots all over my face.
       There was a chorus of "hey" when I went out into the living room. It appeared that I was the last one up.
       "Do you want some doughnuts," Kyle asked. "I went to the doughnut store a few minutes ago, and they're still hot."
       I poured myself a cup of coffee and settled at the table with the rest of them. I noticed Kyle had picked up a copy of The New York Times on his doughnut run, and it was on the table. I scanned the front page headlines, and nothing looked very interesting to me.
       "Is everybody dressed and ready for the day," I asked. I hadn't put on my thermal underwear yet because it would be a couple of hours before we would leave for the ski resort. There wasn't a fire going, but the house was toasty without it.
       They all said they had remembered not to get fully dressed yet, just like me.
       "Brian, you didn't bring one of your planes, by any chance," Kyle asked him.
       "Yeah, I brought both of them," he replied. "Do you want to fly?"
       "I'd like to learn how," Kyle said. He hadn't been with us the previous Sunday when the rest of us had learned. Instead, he had been busy with Jeff with the Web site.
       "I'll show you how to fly them, but you have to help me build a snowman," Brian said. "I've never done that, and it looks like it would be fun."
       "Guys, we came primarily to ski, but if you would rather do something else, we can wait until later to go to the slopes," Rick said.
       "I'll help you build a snowman, Bri. I've never done that, either," Kyle said.
       I was a little surprised. Gene and Rita had pretty much made sure Clay and Kyle had a chance to do everything, and I had just assumed he had built snowmen before.
       "I fact, maybe we can fly later. Let's have a snowman contest," Kyle said.
       "Two-man teams, and you be my partner, Kyle," Brian said.
       "Okay," he said, without even looking at Tim.
       "Kevin, would you be my partner," Tim asked.
       "Sure, Bubba," I said.
       "I guess that leaves me and Big Kyle as a team," Jus said.
       "Let's call Steve and Frank to see if they would be the judges of the contest," I suggested. They were the gay couple we had met in October. We had tried to work out a time when we could see them while we were in North Carolina on that trip, but they were booked up solid. If they could judge for us that morning, at least we'd get to see them. I called Steve's cell phone, told him what we wanted, and he said they'd be there after church in about an hour and a half. He expressed delight that they would get to spend a few minutes with us, at least.
       We finished up in the kitchen and went outside to build our snowmen. It was cold, but it didn't seem as cold as the thermometer said it was. There wasn't a wind, and that definitely helped. We got busy.
       Tim and I weren't exactly the creative types, by any means, and we built a standard snowman using three balls of snow of different sizes. We went inside to look for stuff we could use to decorate it, and we found some small chunks of wood in the fireplace that were blackened. We used those for eyes and buttons. We used small tree branches for the arms.
       Occasionally, somebody would hurl a snowball at somebody in another group, but we kept the snowball fighting down while we concentrated on our work.
       Rick and Justin did pretty much the same thing we did. They gave theirs a flat top haircut, though, and Jus put a cigarette in the snowman's mouth.
       Kyle and Brian, of course, couldn't be content with anything that ordinary. Kyle was inside the house at the same time Tim and I were, and he was rummaging around in the kitchen. Evidently he found a pack of liquid food coloring that had probably been there since the last time Craig and I had colored Easter eggs in that house years before. They used it to give their snowman blue hair, green teeth, and an ugly red gash on his face.
       Ever the one-track mind, Kyle fashioned a bas-relief penis and set of testicles for their snowman. It was circumcised, of course, like him, and very well endowed. He used a mixture of red and blue to create a garish purple head for the penis. He then splashed the yellow food coloring down the front of the snowman, right under the penis to make a stream of urine down the poor creature's front.
       "Let's make signs with their names on 'em," Kyle suggested.
       We found a cardboard box inside and cut pieces of cardboard to use for the signs. Tim wanted to name ours Frosty, and I didn't object. It wasn't terribly creative, but, then again, neither was our snowman. Rick and Justin called theirs Joe Cool, and Brian and Kyle named theirs Dribbles. It was all quite a sight.
       "Did you get some pictures, Flash," Justin asked Kyle.
       "I took a few while we were making 'em, but I want a picture of each one with his creators," Kyle said. Justin took his and Brian's picture with their snowman, and he took pictures of the rest of us with ours.
       Steve and Frank drove up as we were finishing with the pictures, and they were both laughing hysterically at the snowmen as they got out of their car. We shook hands all around, and we introduced Brian. He hadn't been with us in October.
       "Where's Jason," Frank asked.
       "In the history book," Justin said. "This is my baby now and forever, right, Bri?"
       "Right," Brian said.
       "Forever or until . . .," Frank said to me under his breath. I, of course, laughed. I could tell he had a profound understanding of the nature of the adolescent male in love.
       Steve and Frank took their responsibilities as judges very seriously. They studied each sculpture carefully, pointing out what was good about mine and Tim's, and Rick and Justin's. When they got to Kyle and Brian's, they could hardly keep from laughing. It was so far and away the obvious winner that there really wasn't a contest.
       They had a judges' conference to discuss the snowmen. They stepped away from us to have it, and we saw them both looking back at Kyle and Brian's and laughing. When they proclaimed Dribbles the winner, no one was surprised.
       "Can you come in for coffee," I asked.
       They both checked their watches and said they could, but only for a little while.
       "We're meeting some friends for lunch, and we don't want to be late," Steve said.
       "I must say, I've seen some pretty creative snowmen in my day, but those are definitely three of the best," Frank said.
       "We have a Web site now for our family," Kyle said. "Pictures of the snowmen and of you guys judging them will be on it. By the way, let me get your last names so I can tell my brother to add you guys to the list of people who can see it."
       He got their names. Then he opened the site on the computer in the living room and sent Jeff e-mail asking him to add them.
       "If you want to look at it this afternoon, just use kyle dot goodson for your login," Kyle said. "Then, after that, use your own names."
       "It has a video of Kyle and his brother skiing naked," Justin said. "Be sure to check that out."
       "Skiing naked here," Frank asked.
       "No, sir. In our lagoon at home. Water skiing, not snow skiing," Kyle said.
       "Were you little tykes," Steve asked.
       "No, sir. They were both biiiiiiig boys," Justin said, moving his hands apart to suggest enormous penises.
       Frank and Steve both laughed heartily at him.
       "Shut up, Justin," Kyle said, laughing at Justin's antics.
       "We're going snow tubing," Brian said.
       "Yeah, would you like to go with us," Rick asked.
       "We'd love to, Rick, but we really must be going," Steve said. "I really wish we could spend more time with all of you. Perhaps next time."
       We saw them out and were in the car ourselves in ten minutes. Everybody put on thermal underwear for our day on the mountain, and off we went.
       Snow tubing was fun, but I could tell after the first couple of runs that it was a bit tame for Kyle and Rick. We figured out how to get the tube spinning as we raced down the mountain, but even that didn't offer the real jocks what they were interested in.
       "Have you ever done any snowboarding," Rick asked Kyle as we were being lifted back up the hill.
       "Yeah. A couple of times," Kyle said. "It's pretty awesome."
       "I've never done it, but I'd like to try," Rick said.
       It was pretty obvious they were jockeying for a way to ditch us so they could snowboard.
       "Why don't you try it, Babe," I asked.
       "You guys won't mind if Kyle and I go snowboarding," Rick asked.
       We assured them we wouldn't, and they headed off to rent snowboards when we got back to the top.
       "I wish I was as good an athlete as they both are," Justin said.
       "I think you're as good as they are," I said.
       "Well, maybe potentially, but I don't have the skills they have. I busted my ass on Kyle's skateboard. There's no telling what I'd do to myself on a snowboard."
       "Jus, remember that Kyle has led a very privileged life. His job all his life has been to play and have fun. You'll catch up, dude. Don't worry about that," I said.
       "He worked last summer," Jus said. He was defending his friend, and that was cute.
       "He had a job last summer, but do you think he really worked, Jus? Be honest. Did any of you really work last summer," I asked.
       Justin and Tim both laughed because they knew the truth.
       "We played all summer long, and this summer it's going to be even better because of you, Brian," Tim said.
       "I know. Kyle already told me he was going to get me a job. He said I would be alternating between beach and pool, working with Jus and with you guys at the same place you worked last summer," Brian said.
       "Kyle said he was going to put you to work, Bri," I asked.
       "Yeah. Isn't that cool?"
       "Brian, I have a surprise for you, son. I'm the boss, not Kyle. Kyle can't hire anybody. The managers of the hotels make recommendations to me, but I have the final say," I said.
       All three of them were in stunned silence, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing at how cute they were.
       "You wouldn't hire your own sons," Justin finally asked. He said that as though he thought I had betrayed them.
       "Of course you'll be working for Goodson, Jus. You'll probably be working there the rest of your lives, if you want to. And eventually Kyle's going to take over. He's going to own it all. Think about it, Justin. Your brother and best friend will be your boss. Somebody who loves you and trusts you a hundred-and-ten percent. You can't ask for more than that, dude."
       "Yeah, but that's a long time from now," Jus said.
       "Please, God, it is a long time. Tim, you want to be a doctor, and I know Kyle wants that for you, too. He's already working out how that will happen. But Jus, you and Brian could well end up in the jobs Rick and I now have, or whatever the equivalent will be in twenty-five or thirty years. I hope you'll both move away from here for a while and have some adventures and get some experience before you come back to settle down. But I really hope you will come back here eventually," I said.
       "But what about this summer," Jus asked.
       "Jus, on February 1st, you start in a manager trainee position at our biggest property. It's our flagship. It has the most rooms, it does the most business, and it's the nicest place we own. Bluntly put, you're going to learn how to run a hotel. You're going to acquire a hell of a lot of skills in the next four months. That place y'all worked at last summer is the smallest of all of our properties. One boy could easily handle beach and pool. That's all we've ever had there before Gene let Clay and Kyle work together starting a couple of years ago," I said. "Do you think it makes good business sense to work four boys when one could do the job?"
       "No, it doesn't make good business sense, but doesn't it make good people sense, especially when the four boys are your sons?"
       Tim and Brian had been very quiet until that point. Then Tim spoke up.
       "There's no law that says we have to work for Goodson, you know. There are tons of places on the beach that hire boys our age. I'll even have my license by then. We can find jobs where we can all work together. At least two of us together, anyway."
       My God! They really could get jobs at lots of other places, including some of our competitors. I suddenly realized that I didn't have total control and power over them, especially Tim and Kyle. They obeyed Rick and me because they trusted us, respected us, and loved us, not because they feared us or because they had no alternatives. I could not imagine how Gene would react if Kyle didn't want to work for him because of me. I knew Gene loved me almost like a son, but how would he react if I crossed real blood? A real son and the heir apparent of the empire? I had definitely not thought it through.
       "Let's lighten this up, okay, guys? It's a long time till summer," I said.
       "Okay," Justin said, but I could tell he wasn't feeling good about this. I figured I hadn't heard the last of that topic.
       * * *
       We broke for lunch around one o'clock, and everybody was starving. The doughnuts had been delicious that morning, but we were all used to a much more substantial breakfast. We had been playing hard, and we were more than ready to eat.
       We all ordered large lunches.
       "So how was snowboarding," I asked Rick and Kyle.
       "It was awesome, and this guy was pretty good, for a first timer," Kyle said.
       "I busted my butt a few times, though. This one was all into the jumping," he said, meaning Kyle.
       "You gotta do tricks," Kyle said. "That's what it's all about. Did you all have fun tubing?"
       "It was okay," Justin said, "and we had a very interesting talk. I want to tell you about it later."
       I could tell he was annoyed at me. Then Tim spoke, and I knew he was annoyed as well.
       "Yeah, I want to tell you about it, too," Tim said.
       "Why don't we just talk about it now," Kyle asked.
       "No, I said 'later,' Kyle. Okay?" There was irritation in Justin's voice.
       "Jeez. Okay. Later, then," Kyle said.
       We were all distracted at that point by a group of people who took seats at the table next to ours. It was two men around the age of Rick and me, and three little boys, who looked to be around three years old. The men were stunningly handsome, and the three kids were gorgeous. Two of the kids appeared to be twins, and the third one--their brother, no doubt--shared a family resemblance.
       "Are y'all checking out those hunks at the next table," Justin asked. He said it in a normal volume, but they were close enough for them to hear. In fact, one of the men looked over at us briefly.
       "Not so loud, stud," Rick said.
       "His voice gets louder the harder his dick gets," Kyle said loud enough for only us to hear but not loud enough for it to carry to the next table. Tim and Brian laughed.
       "I'll show you loud and hard, dude," Justin said. Again, his voice was louder than it should be, and he was irritated at Kyle.
       "You see what I mean," Kyle asked.
       "I am not hard, Kyle, so don't think I am, man," Jus said, again at normal volume or maybe a little louder.
       There was no question in my mind the two men at the next table had heard that, and I saw them smile at one another.
       Justin's hands were folded together in front of him, and I put my hand on them.
       "Bubba, look at me," I said. "Are you upset right now?"
       "Yeah, I am a little bit upset, Kevin," he said.
       "At me, or at Kyle?"
       "Both of you," he said.
       "Don't be upset at Kyle. He's playing with you, Bubba. You know that."
       "I know. I'm sorry, Kyle. I shouldn't have jumped on you," Jus said.
       "Damn. Just my luck. He finally jumps on me, and I miss it," Kyle said.
       That made everybody laugh, including Justin, and it broke the tension that had been developing at the table. Our food came then, and we tucked into it. Throughout the meal, though, all of us kept stealing glances at the people next to us. A couple of times I noticed the men glancing our way, as well.
       Both tables finished at the same time, and we got up to leave. At that restaurant, the wait person delivered the check, and the customer had to pay at the register on the way out. There were four people, including one of the men from our neighboring table, ahead of Rick in line, so the boys and I waited for him off to the side. The second man and the three kids waited there, too. The first person in line paid with a credit card, and the kid running the register got him taken care of in a couple of minutes. The next person was an elderly gentleman, and he wanted discounts through AARP and Triple A. The kid was totally confused and had to go get a manager to help him.
       "That poor kid doesn't know whether to shit or wind his watch," the man said to me.
       "I know. It's always our luck to get behind somebody like that," I said.
       Kyle came up to the man and me just then holding one of the little boys.
       "Kevin, I want you to meet somebody. This little dude is Kyle," our Kyle said, grinning from ear to ear.
       "Hi, Kyle. Pleased to meet you. Did you know his name is Kyle, too," I asked.
       "That's my name. I'm Kyle," the little boy said very clearly.
       "I know. I'm Kyle, too, though," our Kyle said.
       The little guy laughed.
       "Kevin, isn't he cute? I want one exactly like this some day," Kyle said.
       "Well, maybe it'll happen, Bubba," I said. "Your children are beautiful," I said to the man.
       "Thank you. They're a handful, though. You just called him Bubba. That's Southern for 'brother,' isn't it?"
       "He's not literally my brother. We're sort of an alternative family. He's kind of both an honorary brother and an honorary son," I said.
       "How does somebody get to be an honorary brother and an honorary son," he asked.
       By then, Justin and Tim were each holding one of the twins, and all of the boys were part of our conversation circle.
       "It's a very long story. These two guys are actually our foster sons. This is Justin Davis and Brian Mathews," I said.
       "Sorry. I didn't introduce myself. I'm Matt Broman."
       "Kevin Foley," I said, and he and I shook hands.
       "We have a third foster son, who's actually legally an adult, but he couldn't come with us this weekend. He's in college and couldn't get away," I said.
       "So, back to my original question, how do you become an honorary brother and son at the same time," Matt asked.
       "I told you this was a long story," I said.
       "Yeah, but it sounds fascinating," he said.
       "You don't seem like the kind of guy who would be shocked or offended by what I'm about to say, so I'll just say it. My partner and I are gay. Tim . . . by the way, this is Tim Murphy." Matt and Tim shook hands. "Tim was our next door neighbor, and he stayed with us for several months while his dad was on a ship in the Indian Ocean because of the Afghanistan war. Through him we met this guy. Kyle."
       Kyle extended his hand. "Kyle Goodson. Nice to meet you."
       "Rick and I are named in the wills of Tim's dad and Kyle's parents as their legal guardians in the event of their deaths. So, they're our honorary brothers because we adopted them as such, and they're honorary sons because of the wills," I said.
       The older gentleman was still trying to explain the technicalities of his various discounts to the manager, who wasn't much more than a kid herself. Rick was talking to the man who was with Matt and the kids. They were both laughing, so I knew they were getting along.
       "What about the foster son who is legally an adult," Matt asked.
       "His name is Jeff Martin, and he was the partner of Kyle's brother, Clay. Clay passed away in October," I said.
       "So, what is it? Five kids and two fags," Matt said.
       Kyle and Justin both tensed up when they heard him say "fags," and the little boys they were holding both reacted to them by starting to whine. Matt noticed the reactions of our boys and his boys, too.
       "I shouldn't have used that word before I explained that Mike and I are gay, too," Matt said.
       Kyle and Justin relaxed, and the two little boys they were holding relaxed as well.
       "Did you sense it, guys," Matt asked. "That Mike and I are partners, I mean?"
       Tim nodded. His was the only little boy who hadn't reacted.
       "This is unbelievable," I said. "Who are these little guys?"
       "Well, they're all our sons, now, but the twins are my biological sons, and Kyle is the son of my late wife's brother," Matt said. "Mike has adopted all three, and I have adopted Kyle."
       "We can't adopt kids in Florida, yet," Kyle said.
       "Why not, Kyle," Matt asked.
       "Because we're all queer. Queer people can't adopt children in Florida. It's against the law," Kyle said.
       "Oh, I know. That's been in the news some lately and it's a travesty," Matt said.
       "Yeah, especially since Kevin and Rick are better parents than 95% of the straight ones," Kyle said. He tickled his little friend when he said that, and the little Kyle laughed in pure joy.
       "Are you guys skiing," I asked Matt.
       "Well, we both skied separately yesterday. We haven't been out yet today. One of us has to be with these guys all the time," Matt said.
       "We can help you with that, dude, if you'll trust us," Kyle said.
       Rick and Mike finished up at the register right then, and they came over to join us.
       "Babe, you're not going to believe this," Rick said.
       "Yes, I am. Matt and I have been talking," I said.
       We did formal introductions all the way around. Rick shook the little boys' hands, and he was grinning his face off.
       "Mike, they offered to watch the boys while you and I do a few runs, and from what they told me, I'd say our kids will be in very good hands," Matt said.
       "We'll do it in the public baby-sitting area, and we'll all register," Rick said.
       "You guys don't have to do this, you know," Mike said.
       "How can we not do it," Kyle asked. "These little guys need some big brothers this afternoon, and we're it."
       We went to the baby-sitting area and signed in. Matt and Mike vouched for all of us, and then they went out onto the slopes.
       "That name Matt Broman sounds familiar to me, for some reason," I said.
       "There's a Supreme Court Justice with that name. Matthew Broman, in fact," Brian said.
       "Wow, what a coincidence," I said.
       We played with the little boys. Our guys rode them on their backs while ours were on all fours, and they taught the little guys how to have fights to see who could push each other off. The little ones laughed hard. Then our guys got on each others' backs the same way. Justin knocked Kyle off Tim, and he got on top of him and started tickling Kyle.
       Kyle was laughing and writhing. The little guys were laughing hard, too.
       "Make sure he doesn't pee on you," Brian said to Jus, and that just made Jus tickle Kyle harder.
       "Here it comes," Kyle said loudly.
       Justin jumped off of him very fast.
       "Got you last," Kyle said.
       Justin grabbed Kyle in a kind of wrestler's stance, both standing up, and they laughed hard. We settled down in a few minutes. The little boys all went to sleep. Little Kyle was splayed across Big Kyle's body, and it was too cute for words. Rick had been taking pictures the whole time they were playing, and he got several of the little boy sleeping on Kyle's stomach and chest. Rick and I helped Big Kyle escape from him, but Big Kyle was pretty reluctant to let the little boy go.
       About two hours after they had left, Matt and Mike came back in. They had big grins on their faces, and their cheeks were pink from the cold.
       "How'd it go," Matt asked as they walked up to us.
       "I think they had a very good time," I said.
       "I know we did," Kyle said for our boys. "Can they come over tonight? I'll cook those steaks. We have enough."
       "Oh, we couldn't impose like that," Matt said.
       "Yes, we can," Mike said. "When do you think we're ever going to find another family like this?"
       "Good point, Bro. So, yeah, I guess we can impose like that," Matt said.
       "Bro," I asked.
       "Yeah, my parents adopted Mike after our freshman year of college when his whole family was killed in a plane crash. We were roommates at Penn. That's how we got to know one another, and that's when we fell in love," Matt said.
       "I wondered why you have the same last name," I said.
       "Is your dad a judge," Brian asked.
       "Yeah, he is. You must be pretty sharp to have picked up on that," Matt said.
       Brian just shrugged.
       "And the twins," I asked.
       "That's a story for dinner," Matt said.
       Rick and Kyle went back to snowboarding, and the rest of us made several more runs in the snow tube. Matt and Mike and the three kids did some tubing, too, and the little boys screamed with laughter and delight. Jus, Tim, and Brian each did a couple of runs holding the little ones, and they were as cute with their little charges as the babies were. All in all, it was a wonderful afternoon.
       "I think we made some mighty nice new friends today," Kyle said, as we were driving home.
       The Broman family was right behind us as we made our switch-backs going up the mountain to our house. Rick was driving.
       "You really liked those little kids, didn't you," I asked Kyle
       "We all did. Didn't you?"
       "I loved 'em, Kyle," I said. "But given my choice between them and you guys, I'll take you guys any day."
       "Me, too," Rick said.
       "Jus, can we talk about what you and Tim wanted to talk to me about," Kyle asked.
       "Not now, Kyle. I said in private, okay?"
       "Okay," Kyle said. "Yikes."
       We got to the cabin a few minutes later, and we all went back to the Bromans' car to see them into the house.
       "This is nice," Matt Broman said. "Is it a rental?"
       "Thanks," I said. "It belongs to my parents. Come on in, and we'll make a fire."
       Without being told, Kyle and Tim built a fire in the hearth. We got coats hung up and everybody settled. I offered drinks, and Matt and Mike both accepted the only liquor we had, scotch. Rick had his usual diet coke, and Kyle made cokes for all the kids. I looked at Kyle in what I hoped was a questioning stare, and he shook his head "no." That meant he hadn't snuck any alcohol for himself or any of them.
       "Where do you keep your toys, Kyle," little Kyle asked.
       "Buddy, I don't have any toys," Kyle said. "I wish I did, though."
       "Kyle, look in that closet. There may actually be some toys in there," I said.
       "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."
       Kyle and his little buddy opened the closet to see what they could find.
       "There are some legos. Do you like to play with those," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," little Kyle responded enthusiastically.
       "Like 'em? They love legos, don't you, guys," Mike asked. "They really are their favorite toys at home."
       "Good," I said. "Those are left over from when my brother and I played with them. I had forgotten they were here."
       The four big boys got down on the floor with the three little boys, and they all started playing with the legos. At one point Brian said,
       "I wish you guys had another kid. I want one, too."
       Matt, Mike, Rick, and I laughed.
       "So how did you guys get in the foster-care business," Mike asked.
       "I told you about us keeping Tim while his dad was away. It was through Tim that we met Kyle. You guys had just started dating, right," I said.
       "Yes, sir. Our first date was that Super Bowl party at your house," Kyle said.
       "That was a year ago this month. Last summer Tim and Kyle were working at a motel, and that's how we met Justin," I said.
       "I'll bet there's a story there," Matt said.
       "Yeah, quite a story," Rick said.
       "Y'all can tell the story, if you want to," Justin said, "just so everybody knows that wasn't the real me."
       "The boys found Jus naked and in shackles in one of the rooms. He hadn't eaten in days, and he was filthy. He was basically being held captive by a man who had been his mother's boyfriend before her death, and he was being worked as a prostitute for men," I said.
       "Oh, my," Matt said. "You rescued him."
       "That's right. They damn sure saved my ass," Justin said.
       "Jus!" I said by way of correction.
       "Don't worry about the language, Kevin," Matt said. "They've heard much worse around our house, I'm afraid. They know the difference between big-boy words and little-boy words. They wouldn't survive at school if they didn't."
       "I'm afraid our boys are pretty free with language. The basic rule in our family is 'we're all guys, and guys talk like guys,'" Rick said.
       "That's well put. We'll have to remember that in a few years, won't we, Mike?"
       "It is very well put," Mike said. "Bro, are you thinking about Brandon?"
       "Yeah," Matt said with evident sorrow.
       "Who is Brandon," I asked.
       "He was a street kid I found in the basement of a building in Chicago living in a cardboard box. He was selling sex to get money to eat. I bought him a meal, and I was going to take him home with me, but he escaped out a window in the men's room of the restaurant. We later found out he had been murdered. I identified the body at the police morgue," Matt said.
       "That story illustrates the incredible importance of what you guys are doing," Mike said. "Did you hear that story, Justin?"
       "Yes, sir, I heard it. I owe Kevin and Rick everything," Jus said.
       "You don't owe us anything, but I hope that if you feel like you do, Jus, you'll pay us back by doing the same thing yourself for some kid in need some day," Rick said. "That goes for all of you."
       "Brian, can we tell your story," I asked.
       "Sure," Brian said.
       "Brian's step-father found out he was gay and kicked him out of the house," I said. "Then he was in foster care elsewhere in the state, and his foster father sexually molested him. That's when he ran away," I said.
       "Incredible," Mike said. He didn't say any more, and he didn't need to. We all knew what he was thinking.
       "I noticed you guys get ready to get on me when I used the word 'fags' in the restaurant," Matt said. "There's definitely strength in numbers, guys, and I wish I had been smart enough to keep that fact in mind a few months ago."
       "What happened," I asked.
       "A good friend of Mike's was killed coming out of a gay bar. I was determined to do something about it, so I posted a reward for the capture and arrest of the guy or guys who did it. I knew they were trying to find out who had put up the money, and I had been warned to be extra careful by a police officer who is a friend of ours. I didn't listen to his advice, though, and I got stabbed while I was out running by myself one night."
       "Actually, our dog Breakers was with him, and Breakers probably saved his life," Mike said.
       In a little while, Rick got a tray of cheese, crackers, and fruit for us to nibble on, and then he went into the kitchen to cook. I made a second round of drinks for everyone.
       We had a great evening with the Broman brothers and their kids. The three little boys went to sleep on the floor amid the legos, and our four were stretched out right beside them.
       "Get your camera, Kyle, and take some pictures of them sleeping," Rick said. "He's quite a good photographer, and he and our son Jeff just put up a Web site for our family. Would you have any objection if we put their pictures, and yours, too, on the site?"
       "As long as you don't use last names, I don't see why not," Matt said.
       "Oh, we never use last names, and the whole thing is password-protected. Only our families and friends have access to it," Kyle said. "If you want me to, I'll tell Jeff to give you guys rights to it so you can keep up with us."
       "I don't know about you, but I look upon today as the start of what I hope will be a very close lifetime friendship among us," Matt said. "So, yeah, we'd like to have access."
       "For sure," Mike agreed.
       "And the same goes for us. We've got all these boys to raise, and I think we can really support one another," I said.
       Around nine o'clock, the Bromans packed up their kids and headed out.
       "Will we see you on the slopes tomorrow," I asked as they were leaving.
       "No. I wish we could, but we've got a flight at noon tomorrow. Kevin and Rick, I can honestly say I'm leaving your house an inspired man for having met you," Mike said.
       "Guys like us are making a difference all over the place," Matt said, "and it's nice to know a few of them."
       The little guys were sleepy, but they were awake. Little Kyle was in big Kyle's arms, and he kissed our Kyle good bye. Kyle handed the little boy to Matt so he could put him in the car seat, and Kyle wiped tears from his eyes.
       "Some day, buddy," Matt said. "Some day."
       * * *
       About a week after the trip, we got the following e-mail:

Dear Foley-Mashburns:
           We've visited your Web site several times, and every time we go there we remember the wonderful afternoon when we all became friends. Our boys think of your boys as their big brothers, and our Kyle asked us this afternoon if your Kyle could come over to play with them. Michael's bright idea of the week was to make our thoroughly-neutered male dog, Breakers, have a puppy to give to you guys, and Matthew wanted to know if all of you could come live with us. I'd say four young guys in Florida made quite an impression.
           Speaking of impressions, seeing you guys among your families and friends in the pictures on the Web site is inspirational. Whoever thought of setting up that site deserves our thanks and congratulations. Don't be surprised if, in the near future, you get e-mail from us about a site like that of our own. I'm sorry we missed seeing the snowmen when we were at your "cabin." Dribbles, especially, must have been hilarious. And speaking of hilarious, some of the videos on the memorial page for Clay caused us to laugh so hard we thought we were going to need oxygen.
           From what we can tell, you guys seem to lead the same kind of family-oriented, normal lifestyle we cherish. The love among you is obvious, and we pray that all of you grow in love and peace and service of one another. Now that you have our e-mail address, we hope we'll hear from you often.
                                           Love,
                                           The Bromans

Chapter 10

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The trip to North Carolina to celebrate Justin's passing his GED was a huge success, and we came back with fond memories, great pictures thanks to Kyle, and a new set of friends, the Broman family. We spent the actual Martin Luther King holiday on the slopes, and we all did a lot of major skiing. By the time we left, Justin and Brian, who had never skied before that weekend, were doing great at it.
       On Wednesday of the week we were back at home, my secretary was out attending a work-related seminar. Around three o'clock the girl who was filling in for her called me.
       "Yes," I said, when I picked up the phone.
       "Mr. Foley, I hate to disturb you, but there is somebody here asking to see you. You don't have any appointments this afternoon. He says his name is Kyle, but he didn't give me a last name. What should I do," she asked.
       "Send him in. He probably thinks you know who he is," I said.
       "Sir, I've never seen him before. Are you sure?"
       "Yeah, he's my honorary brother and son. It's Kyle Goodson. Does that name ring any bells," I asked.
       "No, sir, it doesn't, but I'll send him in." Pause. "Oh, my God! Kyle Goodson?"
       "Yeah. And Cindy, memorize his face. You're likely to see him around here again," I said.
       "Yes, sir, Mr. Foley."
       Cindy showed Kyle to my office, and he came in.
       "Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want?" It was our game.
       "I want a bottle of cold water and a bag of microwave popcorn, that's what I want," he said. His demeanor was as gruff as mine.
       "Cindy, get this jerk what he wants, please," I said. After she left with a look of confusion on her face, I said, "Hey, Bubba, what's up?"
       "Her blood pressure, probably," he said laughing. "I finally had a chance to talk to Justin and Tim 'in private' about what they had said they wanted to talk to me about on the trip."
       "It's summer work for the four of you, isn't it?"
       "Yeah, exactly. Brian was there, too, but he was sort of out of it as far as knowing what we were talking about."
       "I figured he would be," I said. "So what happened?"
       "Tim was all fired up about what a tyrant you were being about this thing. Justin was pretty pissed off at you, too, about it. They wanted me to talk to my dad."
       "What did you say," I asked.
       "I told them no way was I doing that. I reminded them that they all knew him, and they could talk to him if they wanted to. But I said I wasn't going to do that," Kyle said.
       "Go on," I said.
       "I told them you were the boss, and they'd have to take it or leave it."
       "What did they say to that?"
       "Kevin, you have to understand how they think. They think I can do anything, make anything happen. They said you said it doesn't make good business sense to have four of us doing the work one, or at the most two, guys can do. I agree with that, by the way. I knew last summer that my dad would never have hired Justin for his job, except that I sort of begged him to. He was too busy with his new deal to worry about details like that, and I took advantage of it," he said.
       "What did you do? Take a maturity pill?"
       "What do you mean," he asked.
       "Well, it just seems that you're being pretty mature about this. I mean, you act mature most of the time, but you're standing up to your boys on this one. That's got to take some guts," I said.
       "Not really. The decision is still going to have to be yours. I mean, it would be fun to work the pool and beach again, but it's also hot as hell doing that. I liked watching the people, and I got an awesome tan, but it might be fun working in a gift shop, too, you know? Or some other place that's air conditioned."
       "A gift shop. That might also be a way to get you guys working together, too," I said. "I hadn't really thought about that before. The wild card is Justin. I really do want him to start training to become a manager, but at a hotel, not a gift shop. It wouldn't be a bad idea for you to get a little in-house experience in a hotel, either, Bubba."
       "Last summer, transportation was a problem, but this summer three of the four of us will be able to drive," Kyle said. "Maybe Jus and I could work at a hotel, and Tim and Brian could work together at a gift shop."
       "You wouldn't mind working apart from Tim?"
       "No. Why should I? We're not joined at the hip, you know?"
       I thought about the last arrangement he proposed. Kyle and Jus had gotten to be very close friends in the last several months, and I wondered if I dare bring up the possibility that there may be more than a simple fraternal bond between them. Before I could decide about asking, Kyle beat me to it.
       "Are you thinking that maybe Jus and I have something going on," Kyle asked.
       "It had crossed my mind, yeah."
       "Kevin, I'm not going to lie to you."
       He was very serious, and I knew I was going to get the truth. I was suddenly overcome by a wave of near panic over what he might say.
       "Kyle, you also don't have to tell me about your private life. You know that, don't you? I'm not your confessor," I said.
       "That's okay. You can know this. Justin and I are very attracted to one another. He told me he had wanted to be my boyfriend before he fell in love with Brian. But it's not going to happen, Kev. I love Tim. Tim turns me on in lots of ways, not just sexually. There is an innocence that Tim has that Jus could never have, and there's a faithfulness, too. I don't really think Jus is ever going to be totally faithful to somebody. I feel bad saying that, Kev, because you know how much I love him, but I just don't feel it with him."
       "You're pretty amazing," I said.
       "What do you mean?"
       "Ever since Jus came into our family, I've read everything I could get my hands on about the long-term effects of child abuse, especially sexual abuse. One of the themes that keeps coming up over and over is an inability to sustain relationships. It's not true of everybody who's ever been abused, but it's definitely true for many of them," I said.
       "Can anything be done to help him with that?"
       "Rick and I talked to Jus a lot at first about getting counseling, but he wouldn't hear of it," I said. "We've talked about it with Tyrone Williams, Jus and Brian's caseworker, too, and he said you can't really force anybody to get counseling and expect it to do any good. Jus, and to an even lesser extent Brian, doesn't really show many of the classic symptoms. And we don't even know if Justin's breaking up with Jason was related to his abuse or not. It's incredibly complicated," I said.
       "Anyway, back to what we were saying, physically there is no question that sex with Justin would be incredible, especially now that he's not afraid of butt sex," Kyle said.
       That was news to me, but I knew the boys were very open with one another about their sex lives, so I wasn't surprised Kyle knew that about him.
       "But if Jus and I were to get together, even in secret, it would tear everything up. It would destroy our family, and neither one of us wants to do that."
       "Thank you, Kyle."
       "For what?"
       "How about if I just say for being wonderful?"
       "You and Rick think I'm more than I am, Kevin. I'm just a kid, you know?"
       "Okay, if you say so, but I still think you're wonderful. And I like your idea about you and Jus working together in a hotel and Tim and Brian working together in a gift shop," I said.
       "I wish I could quit school and start tomorrow," he said.
       "You don't like school much, do you, Bubba?"
       "No, I like it okay. It's just so confining. By the way, I am going to run for SGA president. I've been telling people that yesterday and today, and so far everybody I've talked to likes the idea."
       "I'll vote for you," I said.
       He laughed, and that ended our interview.
       I walked down to Rick's suite of offices, and that whole area of the building was deserted, too. I wondered why, and then I remembered the seminar at the local college that all of our clerical people were attending, not just my secretary. I told him what had just transpired with Kyle.
       "He's unbelievable, isn't he," Rick said.
       "Kind of like the man I married," I said.
       "That's sweet, and thank you. But you know what I mean. I was nowhere near that mature at his age."
       "Neither was I, and that's for sure. I got a kick out of the fact that ole Kyle thinks he'd like to work someplace air conditioned," I said, chuckling.
       "I know. He ain't dumb, that's for sure," Rick said.
       "These kids have really enriched our lives, haven't they," I asked.
       Rick got out of his desk chair and moved over to me. He locked his office door with a grin on his face.
       "What are you up to," I asked coyly.
       "About six inches, the last time I measured," he said.
       He led me over to the leather sofa that was in the "sitting room" area of his office. He started undressing me, and I started doing the same thing to him. We had never done anything like that at work before, but I had certainly wanted to many times. In a matter of moments, Rick and I were joined in passionate coupling, expressing our love for one another through primal means.
       "God, that was fun," he said after we were recovered a bit.
       "I could sort of make a habit out of that," I said.
       "We'll have to line up training sessions for the clerical staff more often," he said.
       *****
       The lady from the curtain place lived up to her part of the bargain, and our new curtains for downstairs were hung on Friday, January 30th. It took half a day for them to be installed, but they were magnificent. With what they cost, they should have been, but they were beautiful and gave the house a "finished" look.
       Tim and Kyle were at our house when we got home. They had worked out with Jus and Brian, and were all showered and in clean clothes waiting for us in the den.
       After we told them hello, Kyle said,
       "The new curtains look good. Why didn't you get some for upstairs?"
       "We did. They're just not ready yet," I said.
       Rick and I went into our bedroom to change clothes, and we admired the new curtains in there, too.
       Back in the den with the boys, Rick said,
       "How was the last day of your old job, Jus?"
       Rick was standing over Justin, and he was giving him a small shoulder massage. All of the boys liked that kind of physical attention from us, but Justin seemed actually to crave it. Rick and I had made a concerted effort to do stuff like that with him whenever the opportunity presented itself naturally.
       "It was good," he said. "They had a cake for me at one hotel."
       "That was nice of them, wasn't it," I said. "They obviously like you."
       "Yeah, it was nice. It was good cake, too," he said.
       "Are you all ready to start at the Laguna on Monday," I asked.
       "Yeah, but I'm kind of scared," he said.
       "I'll skip school on Monday and go with you, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Like hell you will," Rick said.
       "If our brother needs us, shouldn't we all be there for him," Kyle asked.
       "Yes, of course, but he doesn't need you," Rick said.
       "He said he was scared."
       "Yeah, but you're supposed to be . . Kyle, you're teasing me, aren't you?"
       "No. I'm getting your ass last," Kyle said.
       They all laughed.
       "Rick, he does that to me all the time, too," Tim said. "Let's beat him up."
       Tim jumped on Kyle is a pretend fight, and they wrestled around a few minutes. Kyle could easily have pinned Tim, but he let his boyfriend win the match. Tim had his butt on Kyle's groin, and he had Kyle's arms pinned to the floor above his head. In a few seconds, Tim said "Oh-oh," and jumped off Kyle.
       Kyle was giggling.
       "What did you expect, Babe," Kyle asked.
       Tim blushed a little, which was extremely cute, and Kyle lay there spread eagle on his back, the erection Tim had caused obvious to everyone. As per our rules, he didn't touch himself except to adjust his crotch to a more comfortable position.
       "What are you guys doing tonight," Rick asked.
       "We're going to a movie with Philip and Ryan," Kyle said.
       "We're going skating with Morgan and Blake, and maybe Riley, too, if his parents let him go," Brian said.
       "They seem to keep Riley on a fairly short leash," Rick said.
       The plans that evening were fairly typical of plans for a Friday night. There evidently wasn't a basketball game at school that night. If there were, at least some of them would probably have gone to it. Kyle and Justin didn't technically have a curfew, but Tim and Brian both had to be home by 11:30, ten o'clock on school nights, if we gave permission for Brian to go out at all. For special occasions, like big parties or dances, the curfew was extended.
       The issue of dances was rather interesting, given the sexual orientation of that crew. Jerry Taylor had rejuvenated the CYO (Catholic Youth Organization) in our parish, and all four boys had joined. There had been two dances to kind of kick-start the club, and our guys had gone. Kyle had thought they shouldn't go, even though they all wanted to.
       "Why don't you think you should go," I had asked when it had come up.
       "Aren't dances sort of for straight people," Kyle had asked.
       "Yeah, some are, but other people can go and have a good time, too," Rick had said. "You know you love to dance. What's the problem?"
       "The problem is Kyle turns into a chick magnet in situations like that, and he thinks it makes me jealous," Tim said. "It doesn't, though. I don't mind it when he flirts with girls. I know the truth about him."
       "Is that right, Kyle," Rick asked.
       "Yes, sir. Sort of," he said.
       "Not 'sort of.' You know that's the reason," Tim said.
       "Kyle, there's no harm in flirting, as long as you don't lead girls on to think you're more interested in them than you are," I said. "That could hurt somebody's feelings, and I know you don't want to do that."
       "No, I don't. I don't think I do it too bad, do I?" That question was addressed to Tim.
       "I don't think you do. That's why I'm not jealous," Tim said.
       "Tim, I would think all four of you guys would turn into chick magnets," Rick said.
       "They do, don't think they don't," Kyle said. "Our friends at school haven't met Justin yet, but he's going to have more chicks sticking to him than we have magnets on the refrigerator."
       "Who knows, I might just get to liking me one or two," Justin said.
       Brian looked kind of mock sad when he said that.
       Tim put his arm around Brian. "He's just teasing you, Bubba."
       "Absolutely, Bri. I'm sorry I said that, Buddy. I was just making a joke," Justin said in a rush.
       According to Jerry's report, the first dance had about twenty kids, and the proportion was fifteen girls to five boys. In addition to our four, there was another freshman boy there, but he only danced one or two slow dances. Ours danced their asses off. The second dance had about sixty kids, and the girls outnumbered the boys two to one. Our guys recruited Chad, Gage, Philip, Ryan, Morgan, Blake, and Riley to go. Chad and Gage had held a dance lesson for Morgan, Blake, and Riley in our clubhouse the night before the dance, and they all had a great time.
       * * *
       Gene Goodson had been enthusiastic about Justin going to work at a hotel in a trainee position, but, in Gene's mind, he wanted Justin to have a taste of lots of different aspects of hotel operation, not just management. I agreed with him. Justin was still only seventeen, and he had no hotel experience or business experience at all. We decided to start him in housekeeping for a few months, move him to valet parking, then move him to the bell service by Memorial Day. As a manager, having had first-hand experience with those parts of hotel operations would serve him well. Eventually, he'd become a desk clerk, an events coordinator, part of the sales force, and then into General Management. He'd start at one of the smaller places, but eventually he'd be at the top. One day, once Kyle took over, he'd be near the very top, assuming, of course, he wanted to stay with Goodson Enterprises.
       "I wish I had had this kind of training," I said to Gene.
       "You came from the kind of background where you had stayed in hotels all your life, Kevin, so you knew what they were all about. Plus, you had a college degree in the field, from a good college with a good internship. You started small, for a manager, at the resort, and you worked your way up. Kyle's going to do the same thing that Justin's doing, although I think I want him working with Jus in the bell service this coming summer, not changing sheets. You realize we're creating the next generation of our business, don't you?"
       "Yeah, and it's pretty exciting to me," I said.
       "It's damn exciting to me, son," he said.
       Ordinarily, Tim and Kyle spent Sunday night at one of the other houses. Where they slept more or less depended on which parents were going to be home for them to spend time with. That particular Sunday night, though, they were at our house so they could see Justin off to work the next morning. Jus showed up for breakfast dressed in his housekeeper uniform.
       "You look damn good dressed like that, Bubba," Kyle said.
       Justin was a handsome young man, and he did look good in that uniform. On any given Monday, we probably started a dozen new staff is some capacity or other at our hotels, but nobody else starting that day got the "you-look-damn-good-Bubba" routine from a Goodson. Our company was the eighth-largest non-governmental employer in the county, but Kyle had no clue about that.
       When the food was on the table, Kyle said he wanted to say the blessing.

           "Dear God, you sent our brother Justin to us in chains. Under your inspiration, we helped him break those chains, and he sits with us at this table this morning in a shining suit of freedom. Thank you for that, and thank you for him. There is no guy at this table who doesn't love Justin, and we love you the more for having given him to us. May he do well in his new job. Thank you for the food we are about to eat and for those who cooked it with loving hands. Amen."

       Nobody moved a muscle when Kyle finished that blessing. I looked around the table, and everybody but Kyle had tears in his eyes.
       "Is somebody going to start passing stuff," Kyle asked.
       That broke our reverie, and breakfast started as usual.
       "That was an awesome blessing, Kyle. Thank you," Justin said.
       "Thanks, and you're welcome, Bubba." Kyle looked at Jus with tremendous love for him. "It's okay when you just hold the sausage, like you're doing now, dude, but it's better when you pass it to somebody else."
       It took us a second to sort through Kyle's double meaning because Jus was, indeed, just holding the platter of sausage. When we finally got his meaning, we howled with laughter.
       All of them were in the den when Justin got home from his first day on his new job. It was around five o'clock, and Jus looked exhausted.
       "So, how was the first day," I asked.
       "I'm tired," he said. "Where's my dinner, Alice?"
       We laughed. Justin was a great fan of the Nickelodeon Network on TV, and he had obviously seen episodes of The Honeymooners. He was playing the part of Ralph Cramden to the hilt.
       "Was it fun," Kyle asked.
       "The people were fun. Being at work in a nice place was fun. But the work itself wasn't fun," he said. "I think I changed eighty beds today, and cleaned eighty bathrooms, and straightened up shit in eighty rooms. Seeing what people have in their rooms is kind of fun, though. And figuring out what they did."
       "What do you mean by that," Kyle asked.
       "Well, I really only cleaned twenty rooms, not eighty. There are eighty on my floor, but there are four of us working it. Of the twenty rooms I worked, twelve guys had come the night before," he said.
       "Oh, wow," Kyle said. He was grinning his ass off at the sexual statistics.
       "Yeah, and two women started their periods during the night."
       "Oh, gross," Brian said. "I hope you wore gloves."
       "Actually, he's supposed to have worn gloves," I said. "Did you?"
       "Of course I did. I did what I was told," he said.
       "So, do we want to stay in the hotel business," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, but not at this level," Jus said. "We don't want to clean bathrooms the rest of our lives. We want to do clean stuff."
       "But what you did today is part of it, Jus. An important part," I said.
       "Am I going to have to do this a long time," he asked. He didn't sound resentful. He really just wanted to know.
       "Not too long, Bubba, but long enough to get a taste of it," I said. "You're going to have to boss those people some day, and it's going to be good for you and for them that you've done that a while."
       "Whatever. I'm nasty. I'm getting a shower. Brian, you look like you need a shower, too," Jus said.
       Brian jumped up to accompany his man upstairs.
       I thought about the first time I had heard him say "whatever." That first time had been filled with contempt and arrogance and defiance. That night, though, "whatever" meant compliance and acceptance and collaboration with what we had planned for him. What an incredible turn-around, all symbolized by a single word!
       * * *
       Our household consisted of seven gay males, ages fifteen to twenty-six. It was fluid, with Jeff coming home only on weekends, and Tim and Kyle spending only about a third of their nights with us. If Rick and I had a philosophy that guided the way we dealt with the boys, it was rooted in the belief that a normal family atmosphere had to prevail at all times. The fact was, though, that seven young gay males living together, more or less all of the time, wasn't a normal family. A few of our family crises occurred because we were gay, but the overwhelming majority occurred because we were male. Typical of that is a story about Tim.
       One night we were all playing in our clubhouse. Rick and I, and Tim and Kyle were in a game of Nine Ball at the pool table, and Justin and Brian were playing ping pong. Tim had been dancing around a little, like he had to go to the bathroom, but he hadn't said anything about it.
       Suddenly, right before his shot, he declared he had to pee. He took off. The rest of us laughed at him, but because he was cute, not to make fun.
       "He waited till the last minute again," Kyle said.
       We all agreed.
       In a few seconds, we heard a blood-curdling scream from the men's room.
       Kyle dropped his cue stick, and Rick and I set ours on the table. Jus and Brian stopped their game, and all of us ran to where Tim was. Tim was standing in front of a urinal, apparently writhing in pain. He was whimpering and crying a little bit. His fly was open, and we could see part of his penis sticking out the top of the fly. Kyle got to him first.
       "Ohhhhhh," Kyle said.
       "What is it," I demanded of Tim.
       "I caught it in my zipper," Tim said. "Help me."
       We gathered around to look. Indeed, he had caught the tip of his foreskin in the zipper of his pants. I had a momentary vision of that scene in There's Something About Mary where the kid gets his balls caught in his zipper. I knew that couldn't really happen, but I knew from first-hand experience that what had happened to Tim really could happen.
       I got down on my knees and moved his hand away. Then I grabbed the tab of his zipper and pulled it down. His foreskin came loose but not without blood.
       "Tim, I'm going to touch it, okay, Bubba? I need to see how bad it is."
       Tim just whimpered. I knew that hurt really bad because I had done the same thing a few times in my younger days. He had been in a hurry to get back to the pool game, I figured, and he hadn't paid attention to what he was doing when he zipped up. Ouch!
       "Get me some toilet paper," I said to whoever was listening. Rick presented me with a wad in a few seconds.
       I examined his penis, dabbing it to stop the blood, and I could tell he had only gotten a very small part of the foreskin caught.
       "Does it still hurt like it did," I asked.
       "No, sir. It stings, though," he said.
       "How did that happen," Kyle asked.
       "I pulled up too fast," Tim said. "I was in a hurry to get back to the game."
       "I think we need to take him to the emergency room and call Grandma," Kyle said. "This could be a disaster."
       "We don't need to do either one, Kyle. It's a little nick. I've done it before myself," I said.
       "He didn't cut it off, Stud. There's still plenty left for you," Justin said.
       That made everybody, including Tim, laugh.
       "I'm okay, Kyle. It doesn't hurt much anymore. It just stings," Tim said.
       "I'm going to give you some anti-bacterial ointment. Just put it on for the next couple of days," I said. "And, er, keep it out of dirty places, at least until it's healed."
       They all screamed with laughter, and Tim blushed
       "Okay."
       I took Tim inside and gave him a tube of ointment. He went into a bathroom to apply it, and he was soon back out to take his shot on the pool table.
       "When I saw what had happened, my whole life flashed in front of my eyes," Kyle said dramatically.
       "You are such a horn-dog, Goodson," Justin said.
       "Oh, yeah? Let's see how you like it." With that, Kyle grabbed Justin's crotch hard.
       "Ow!" Justin said, but they were both laughing.
       "Stop it, Kyle. That's making me hurt," Tim said.
       Kyle turned Justin loose, and we continued shooting pool.
       * * *
       Brian completed his Eagle Scout project during the first weekend of February. It was a landscaping project similar to the one Tim had done for his, and on that occasion all seven of us, along with Pat, Fred, Chad, and Gage, turned out to help. Brian had things planned down to the minute, and he did a great job answering questions and making decisions that he hadn't anticipated. Of course, when your parents, your brothers, and some of your best friends make up your crew, it's pretty unlikely things will get screwed up too badly.
       It was close to dark when we finally finished that Saturday afternoon. We ordinarily went to the Saturday vigil Mass at five o'clock and then went out to eat. It was too late for that, and we had already planned to have everyone over to our house for dinner, anyway. I had picked up a bag of oysters, and we had some steaks for the grill and some potatoes for the microwave. Add a little salad from the deli, and we had a feast.
       "Brian, I think that went as smoothly as any Eagle project I've supervised has ever gone," Sam said, as we were seated and eating.
       "Thanks, Sam," Brian said. "I want to thank all of you for your help. Especially you, Tim. You really helped me plan it, and I appreciate that."
       It was still too chilly to swim, even in a heated pool, so we adjourned to the clubhouse for pool, ping pong, and cards. We had music going, of course, and Justin and Brian danced a little with Chad and Gage, but mostly we played games.
       "Every time I'm around you people I feel good," Gage said.
       "Well, that just means you need to come over more often, dumbass," Justin said.
       We laughed.
       "Seriously," Gage said. "I always feel good here. I always feel safe."
       Kyle's antennae went up.
       "Do you not feel safe at school," he demanded of Gage.
       "Not always. No. But I do here."
       "Do you know how to find me at school," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. You're the one who's always in the center of a pack of girls. Cute girls, too, I might add," Gage said.
       "Come on, Gage. I'm trying to be serious, man," Kyle said.
       Gage lit a cigarette.
       "Gimme one of those," Kyle said.
       It had been so long since I had seen Kyle smoke that I had forgotten he did. He took one and lit up, though. He coughed a little on the first inhale, so I knew he hadn't had one in a while.
       "I know you're serious, Kyle, and I know that you and Tim and Brian will get my back at school if I need you. You're one of the most popular kids in school, and you're going to be president next year. And you know what? It's no secret at Beachside that you're queer," Gage said.
       "What do you mean?"
       "Just what I said. Most people know you're gay, with the exception of some of the dweeb freshmen, present company excluded, of course," Gage said.
       "I haven't told very many people," Kyle said.
       "Maybe not, but people know. And you know what? They don't care, Kyle. They don't fucking care."
       "So, the stud's out at school, huh," Justin said. "If you were in my class, I'd want to sit right next to you." He was sitting right next to Kyle and put his hand on his thigh, close to his groin.
       "Get off me," Kyle said. "Come on. Let's shoot some pool."
       "Will you grow a cue stick for us tonight," Justin asked, alluding to the night Kyle had gotten an erection in a game of strip pool.
       Kyle was laughing delightedly at his friend.
       "Shut up, asshole, and shoot pool, before I shove a real cue stick up your butt," Kyle said.
       "Uhhhhhhhhh," Justin said seductively. He and Kyle were laughing and shoving each other. They got up and played pool.
       "Is what you said true, Gage," I asked.
       "Absolutely," Gage said. "They really love him, Kevin, and he has lunch every day with Chad and me. How do you think that makes us feel?"
       "Pretty special," I asked.
       "That doesn't even begin to describe it," Gage said.
       "That must be a pretty liberal school," Sam said.
       "Oh, there are pricks there aplenty, don't think there aren't. But he just has a way with people. It doesn't hurt that his daddy owns half the beach," Gage said.
       "He doesn't brag about that, does he," I asked. Because if he does, I thought, that's got to end.
       "I've never even heard him mention it," Gage said.
       "Me, either," Tim added.
       "But people know, Kevin. But they want to be his friend because of him. It's almost like he's got some kind of magic glow around him, or something. It's amazing to me."
       That little chat circle started to break up. Rick and Brian went to the ping pong table, Tim went to the bathroom, and Gage got up to put some more CD's on the player. The only ones left were Chad, Sam, Fred, and me.
       "What Gage was saying is true, Kevin. It's like we're acceptable because we're Kyle's friends," Chad said. "I wonder what's going to happen to us when he graduates."
       Sam, Fred, and I were silent. I was thinking about the implications of what Chad had said, and I figured they were, too. Chad got up to fool with the CD's with Gage.
       Fred spoke. "Have you guys ever heard of the concept of the alpha male in a wolf pack?"

Chapter 11

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Mardi Gras was February 12th, so that meant we had to leave home after school on Friday, the 8th. The caravan was the same as it had been at Christmas, only Gene had a much better sense of where to stop at mid-course for a potty break and what to do when we got to New Orleans. The seven of us were in our big Bronco, and Gene, Rita, and George were in Gene's Cadillac. It was actually Rita's car, but Gene was driving.
       Craig and Cherie were at my parents' house when we got there Friday night, just as I had expected them to be. It was around nine o'clock, and I could tell Craig had already been to the bar once or twice. They hugged us and kissed us something fierce, and we all went inside to a very nice spread of food. Somebody--Odille, I suspected--had made about ten different hors d’oeuvres for the table. We had gone through a fast-food drive-thru around six that night, but everybody was hungry by the time we got there. Craig did the honors with the drinks, with the help of Kyle, and they passed them among us.
       Rick was funny to me about drinking. He was definitely not opposed to drinking on any moral or political or social grounds. When we first started dating, he would have a drink or two before dinner. He made drinks for me on occasion, at parties or even at home, but he was no longer in the "drinker" column.
       "I've been drunk a few times, Kevin, and I don't ever want to do that again. So why should I waste that many calories on a couple of drinks? Two drinks don't do it for me," he had said. "I need four or more before I feel anything. That's way too many calories for a feeling that doesn't do me much good, anyway."
       "Do you resent it that I drink," I had asked.
       "How can you ask that? I don't resent anything about you or what you do, Kevin, and you know that. Please don't ever have those kinds of doubts about me again, okay?"
       I chuckled and kissed him.
       "You can be the designated driver from now on," I said.
       "I fully intend to be. I want you to have a good time, and I'll have a good time, too. But without drinking. It's just not me anymore."
       That conversation had taken place during our second year together, and it had become our standard. He sometimes had a glass or two of wine at a big dinner, but that was it for him. On those occasions, I had the feeling he was really only tasting the wine as part of the chef's plan for the meal.
       "So, what does the parade schedule look like," Rick asked, once we all had plates of food and were sitting in the den.
       "Tomorrow night's Endymion," Craig said.
       "Cool," I said.
       "It's one of the super krewes. The Endymion Extravaganza will be in the Super Dome after the parade. Cherie and I went the last two years. It's a super krewe's answer to a ball. Do you guys know about balls," Craig asked.
       "We know quite a bit about balls," Justin said.
       It took a second, but the entire room burst into laughter.
       "Not that kind of balls, Bubba," Craig said, laughing hard.
       "Just my luck," Justin said in total deadpan.
       Of course everybody laughed after that line, too.
       "Justin, your sense of humor reminds me of my grandfather," Gene said.
       "Why? Did he like balls, too?"
       Gene howled with laughter, as did most of us. Those who didn't howl, laughed hard.
       "Justin, you're hilarious," Gene said. "I'm promoting your ass as soon as we get home."
       "It's been promoted before, Gene," Jus said.
       Gene and the rest of the adults looked stricken when he said that. The kids saw it for the pun it was, and they laughed. Then the adults knew it was okay, and they laughed as well.
       "Justin, I never meant . . ."
       "Mister Gene, I know what you meant. That was a sick pun on my part, and I'm sorry I said that. I took advantage of it for a laugh from my brothers, which I got."
       "Son, I never want to hurt your feelings," Gene said.
       "He doesn't have any feelings," Kyle said.
       If we had been at home, that would have been the moment when Kyle would have punched him or groped him hard to prove his point. That night, though, he behaved himself.
       "The only thing I've ever known in this family is love," Jus said. "These guys, and especially your son, tease me about anything and everything, and they've never hurt my feelings. Except Rick, of course."
       The kids and I screamed with laughter, but the others weren't exactly sure how to take that line.
       "I'm just teasing," Jus said. "Rick has never hurt my feelings. He's not clever enough."
       More laughter, only that time everybody joined in.
       "What is this? Pick on Rick night," Rick asked.
       "It has been, but we're going to switch to Craig now," Jus said.
       Again, more laughter.
       "What are we going to do tomorrow," Craig asked, obviously changing the subject.
       "I thought we were going to the parade," Kyle said.
       "We are," I said. "Endymion is a night parade, though. Craig meant during the day. Aren't there any day parades tomorrow?"
       "Yeah, there are two pretty good ones. Iris and Tucks. They start around noon," he said.
       "Well, let's go to those. Where are we going to be? Your office," I asked.
       "Cherie's office," Craig said. "It's right on St. Charles, about two blocks from Gallier Hall. By the way, we have some tickets for the stands for Tuesday. It's just four, but we can take turns if y'all want to."
       "Craig, they don't know what you and Kevin are talking about. How about some explanation, boys," Mom said.
       "Oh, right," Craig said.
       I said, "One of the great drawbacks to Mardi Gras is having someplace to go to the bathroom. The city puts out Port-O-Let portable toilets, but there are always long lines, and the things themselves are usually filthy. The smart people--the lucky ones, really--know somebody who has an office downtown. Those offices provide a place to rest and a place to keep your stuff, like food and jackets and other necessities, but most of all, they provide restrooms. And we're all fixed up, thanks to Miss Cherie."
       "Oh, thank you, Cherie," Rita said. "I've heard it can be quite abominable."
       "It can be, Rita," Cherie said. "The location of the office on a major parade route was one of the reasons I decided to go to work for this law firm."
       Everybody laughed.
       "You think she's kidding," Craig asked.
       "My God, you people take this Mardi Gras stuff pretty seriously, don't you," George said. "What is Gallier Hall, Craig?"
       "It's actually the old city hall building from like a hundred years ago. It's a big classical affair, and that's where the mayor's reviewing stands are. On Carnival Day, the mayor and other dignitaries are there, and he reads a proclamation turning over the city to Rex, the King of Mardi Gras, for the day. The stands there are usually considered the best seats in the house, but it's a lot more fun on the street. The ones at the Boston Club are good, too, George. That's on Canal Street. You might know somebody there."
       "The mayor turns the city over to Rex," Gene asked.
       "Well, not literally, of course. Rex then declares the day a holiday for all city workers, except essential services, like fire and police and emergency medical people. The only law that day is that people have to have fun," Craig said.
       "This is so cool," Kyle said. "Why do they have this, anyway?"
       "You don't know," I asked.
       "Not really," he said.
       "Kyle, you know what Lent is, right?"
       "Yeah. It's the weeks before Easter when you're supposed to give up stuff you like, right?"
       "Close enough," I said. "Mardi Gras literally means 'Fat Tuesday' in French. 'Mardi' is the French word for Tuesday, and 'Gras' means 'fat.'"
       "I thought gros was the French word for 'fat.' That's been confusing to me," Jeff said.
       "Yes, Jeff, gros is the word for 'fat,' in the sense of large or bulky. Large, mostly," my dad said. "Gras means the fat itself, as in meat with fat on it. It can also mean 'rich,' as in rich food, or 'fatty.' In the old days, it was the last day you could eat 'fat meat' before Lent."
       "This is pretty confusing," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, what Mardi Gras really means to you is 'party your ass off,'" Rick said.
       "Now see, that I understand," he said. We all laughed.
       "Guys, a lot of people wear costumes on Carnival Day," Craig said. "You'll see some unbelievable costumes, in fact. Some people work on them all year long."
       "Are we going to wear costumes," Tim asked.
       "We didn't bring any, son," George said.
       "Tim, it's fun to wear a costume, or to 'mask,' as they say here, but they're also a real pain. For one thing, you never know what the weather is going to be like," Cherie said. "Some years, like this year, the weather is great. Other years it's bitterly cold. Let's say you decided you wanted to be an Indian wearing just a loin cloth as your costume. Then, on Carnival Day, it's in the twenties. There goes your costume."
       "Do people wear costumes for all the parades," Brian asked.
       "No, just on Tuesday. That's Carnival Day," Cherie said.
       "Some of you call it Mardi Gras, and some of you call it Carnival Day. What's the difference," Justin asked.
       "There is no difference, Jus," my mother said. "Those are just two terms for the same thing. Mardi Gras is this coming Tuesday, but Carnival Season started January 6th. That's King's Day. Do you know what that is?"
       "No, ma'am. Kyle and I are the dumb ones, remember?"
       "Yeah, right," Rick said sarcastically. "Dumb like a fox."
       "Okay, we're not so dumb, but we don't know about King's Day," Jus said. "At least I don't."
       "It's the day the Magi, or the three kings, visited the Baby Jesus in the manger in Bethlehem. Some people in New Orleans call it 'Little Christmas,' and that's the day in Europe they exchange Christmas presents in some countries," Mom said.
       "They give two sets of presents," Jus asked.
       "My, this is pretty complicated, isn't it," Mom said.
       "Yes, but I'm learning so much, Beth. Please keep on," Rita said.
       "Boys, there are really three days when different European cultures exchange gifts. December 6th, which is the Feast of St. Nicholas, Christmas day, and King's Day," she said.
       "Is that why they call Santa Claus Jolly Old St. Nick," Justin asked.
       "Exactly, Jus," Mom said.
       "He's my favorite saint. That boy smokes," Justin said.
       Everybody laughed, and Justin and Kyle knocked their fists together.
       "On that note, I think it's time for a bathroom break," Mom said. She was so great. She knew Craig and I wanted to smoke, but she would never have acknowledged that we did. I was pretty sure she knew Justin and Kyle smoked, too.
       Craig, Justin, Kyle, Tim, Brian, and I went out into the back yard. Tim and Brian didn't smoke, but the rest of us lit up.
       "This is unbelievable, man," Kyle said to Craig. "This is so much fun. Thanks for bringing us, Kevin."
       The other boys echoed him.
       "Kevin, I love your parents," Brian said. "They're so nice."
       "Yeah, and they're fun, too," Kyle said. "I'm so excited right now I could just about jump out of my skin."
       "Yeah, but you're doing good, Bubba. You're not getting on anybody's nerves," Justin said.
       "You guys have to promise to tell me if I start to get on people's nerves, okay," Kyle said.
       "What are you talking about? You don't get on anybody's nerves," Craig said.
       "Yes, I do, Craig. I try not to, but sometimes I forget and get carried away."
       "Kyle, you're fun to be around, man. I love to see somebody who's excited about happy stuff."
       "I told him the same thing, Craig. But you just wait till he starts jumping up and down in your lap, crushing your balls," Justin said.
       We all laughed at what Justin had said, but Craig totally lost it and laughed his ass off.
       "Do you guys carry on like this all the time at home?"
       "Yeah. Pretty much," Jus said.
       "Unbelievable, baby brother," Craig said to me. He envied us, and I knew it.
       Back inside we got fresh plates of food. Craig replenished everybody's drinks, too.
       "Grandma, tell us some more about all those times to give Christmas presents," Brian said.
       "Well, different cultures give gifts on one of those three days. Not all three, though," she said.
       "Tell us again what that has to do with Mardi Gras," Justin said.
       "The Carnival Season, or the Mardi Gras Season, officially begins on King's Day, and we celebrate it with a special cake, called a King Cake," she said. "In fact, there's a King Cake cut up on the table in there."
       "I thought that was coffee cake, Grandma," Kyle said.
       "It's very much like a coffee cake, Craig. Only. . .sorry, I meant to say Kyle."
       Craig, Kyle, and Cherie all lit up in huge grins when she said that. Kyle was sitting on the floor in front of Craig, and Craig kicked him a pretty good one in his butt. Kyle put his right hand on the toe of Craig's shoe, and he leaned on it hard. Craig let out a little noise in pain.
       My mother noticed what was going on, but I didn't think anybody else did. She smiled at their foolishness.
       "Yes, it is very much like a coffee cake, only it has a little plastic statue of Baby Jesus in it. The tradition is that somebody has a King Cake party on King's Day or close to it, and they cut the cake into as many pieces as there are people at the party. Whoever gets the piece with Baby Jesus becomes the King, if it's a man, or the Queen, if it's a woman. The King or Queen chooses someone to be his or her partner. They have to give the next King Cake party the next week. They invite all the people at that party, plus anyone else they want to include. It's really quite a nice tradition," Mom said.
       "I think we need to do that next year," Justin said.
       "That's something to think about," I said.
       "Did you cut up your cake in as many pieces as there are people here tonight," Kyle asked.
       "As a matter of fact, I did, Cr . . Kyle. Why do I want to call you Craig?"
       "'Cause they're two of a kind, that's why, Grandma," Justin said. "Two badasses in a perfect row."
       "Let's all get a piece of cake," Kyle said. "We'll see who the king or queen's going to be."
       "Rick's already the queen. You know that," Jus said.
       "Too, true," Rick said, lisping and waving a limp wrist.
       I thought my dad was going to keel over, he was laughing so hard. We went into the dining room and each got a piece of cake. George got the piece with the Baby Jesus in it, and he chose my mom as his queen. We joked and laughed and celebrated being family for another hour or so, and then we all went to bed. Rick and Kyle organized a kitchen crew to put the food away, and we ate that stuff, plus a lot more that Odille made the next morning, all weekend.

(George's Perspective)
       I had heard about Mardi Gras all my life, of course, but I had never been to it before. I had done some research on the Web about it, and there were a million Web sites. I had read about the tradition of the mayor turning over the city to Rex, the Lord of Misrule, and it reminded me of the Lord of Misrule in Boston, Cardinal Bernard Law. That scandal shook me to the roots of my faith, but, after weeks of thinking about it and praying about it, I finally decided I still wanted to be a Catholic. The accusations against homosexuals like my precious boys infuriated me. I knew they were sexually active, but their love for one another was pure and good and wholesome. How dare Law and other churchmen condemn homosexuality in public and sanction, condone, and promote it in private. Especially when what they did in private was a crime.
       I had been dating Sonya for several weeks, and we had become intimate. I had wanted her to come with us to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but she had refused. It's not that I don't want to go, because I do, she had said. It's just too soon.
       She had met Beth and Cherie and Rita at Brian's birthday party, and she had really liked them. Rita was still a bit fragile after Clay's death, but the other two women were strong and certainly capable of holding their own in any company, just as Sonya was. I respected her decision, of course. I was, above all, a gentleman, but I still wished she had come with us.
       She loved Tim, which only made me happy, and she loved Kyle, too. He and Tim were a lot alike in many ways, but there was a quality to Kyle that seemed grown up, much more than Tim was. Tim had an innocence about him that was almost child-like. Kyle didn't have the same kind of innocence, but he wasn't a worldly tough guy, either. He was a strange one. But I knew that Tim loved him and that they were very happy in their relationship. What more could a parent want for his son?

(Justin's Perspective)
       We had an awesome time Friday night when we first got there. After I'd gotten to know Kevin's and Rick's parents, I knew why those two guys were as good as they were. I honestly didn't have any idea what it was like to be part of a family and to be around people who loved one another so much like they did.
       We had some more good food that night, and ole Craig hooked us boys up with some drinks, at least Kyle and me. I know he didn't give Brian any alcohol, so he probably didn't give Tim any, either. I liked drinking just fine, but I could have a hell of a good time stone cold sober. I knew Kyle felt the same way.
       We sat around talking about Mardi Gras, and I was cracking pretty good that night. It was just down-home country humor, but they seemed to like it. Kyle said to me one time that I make them happy by saying funny stuff, and it makes me happy when I can make other people laugh. We joke and tease each other a whole lot, but we never hurt anybody's feelings. Gene thought he might have hurt my feelings, which he didn't, and that bothered me that he thought that.
       Craig and Cherie spent the night at Grandma's house, so they put all five boys in one bedroom. That wasn't a big deal except there was only one bed. It was a big one, so three of us could sleep in there, but not all five. They had an air mattress, and we took turns sleeping on it on the floor. The first night Brian and I slept on the air mattress, and it was just as comfortable as a bed. He curled up in my arms like he always does, and I got a big monster hard-on like I always do when we go to bed. I started rubbing his soft, sweet chest to see if we could get something going, but that little rascal went to sleep on me. That was all right, though. It just felt good to be all up next to him, warm and cozy.
       The ones in the bed didn't go right to sleep, though. I knew they were jerking each other off. A couple of times I heard Tim whimper, and ole Jeff let out a strong sigh like he had come off. I figured Kyle had probably taken care of both of 'em. Then I heard Mister Kyle grunt, so I knew he was finished, too. I started to make a crack of something like, "My turn," or something. That would have made them laugh, but it might also have woken Brian up, and I didn't want to do that. Besides, I wasn't going to get any action, so I might as well keep my mouth shut.
       As I was lying there, I started thinking about Jeff. Of all the ones of us, he was the one I didn't know very good. I liked him, and I knew he liked me. In Sarasota he had slept in the bed with me and Brian one of the nights, and we had all taken care of each other. I've seen a lot of guys having sex, but I didn't know anybody could get as emotional over a hand job as he got. I had his dick and balls, while Brian sucked his nips, and you would have thought we were fucking him and sucking his dick at the same time. I think he's a pretty hot guy, but when that boy gets turned on, he really gets turned on. I decided I was going to try to hang out some with him, just so we could get to know one another better.
       The next morning I woke up to find Kyle leaning over me. It sort of startled me a little, in fact. He had that big grin of his just a-going, and it's impossible to be mad at him when he's like that.
       "I'm going to get these other two downstairs to give you and Brian some privacy, okay," he whispered.
       "Thanks, Bubba. I owe you one," I said.
       "He's really pretty, isn't he?" He was talking about Brian, who was still asleep.
       "You know I think he is," I said.
       "Yeah. Have fun, Stud."
       And we did.
       * * *
       "There are my sweet boys," Grandma said when we went into the kitchen. She gave me and Brian a little kiss to say good morning. "Do you want some coffee or juice or milk?"
       "Juice, please," Bri said.
       "I'd like some coffee, please," I said.
       "Jus, I want to hear all about your new job. Is your boss a real tyrant," she asked.
       "Yes, I'd like to hear this, too," Kevin said, grinning at me.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said, "and he's ugly as homemade sin, too."
       "I didn't know you worked for Rick. I thought you worked for Kevin," Kyle said.
       "I hope you get hit in the head with a coconut at the Zulu parade on Tuesday," Rick said.
       "A coconut? What are you talking about," Kyle asked.
       "They throw coconuts in that parade," Rick said.
       "Nuh-uh," Kyle said.
       I didn't much believe that, either.
       "He's telling the truth, Bubba," Kevin said. "They don't actually throw them, though. They just hand them down."
       "Real coconuts," Kyle asked. "Are they telling the truth, Grandma?"
       "Yes, Kyle. They're small, and the krewe members pretty much save those for friends and family, I think. They're probably expensive," she said.
       Jeff came in just then, and then Rita and Gene and Doc. There were too many people for the kitchen, so we went out into the den. In a minute the lady who cooks said breakfast was ready, so we all went into the dining room to eat. Ed said the prayer, and then we all ate. It was some kind of French toast, that they called Lost Bread, and it was good. They had sausage and bacon and ham, too, and my favorite, grits.
       "Boys, I've been following your Web site religiously. I think it's wonderful. Who were those three little boys at the cabin," Grandma asked.
       Kevin and Rick told all about the Broman family.
       "Grandma, one of 'em's name was Kyle," Kyle said. "He was the cutest one."
       Kevin and Rick laughed.
       "They were all cute, Mama," Kevin said. "He just liked Kyle best because of his name."
       "I want to adopt me one like him, one of these days," Kyle said.
       "We'll help you however we can," Cherie said.
       "We certainly will, Kyle," Grandma said. "You can count on that, son."
       "Thanks," Kyle said.
       "Did you like the memorial page for Clay? That wasn't up yet when y'all were there for Brian's party," Kyle said.
       "It's beautiful, Kyle," Grandpa said. "I found some of the videos rather amusing, and interesting in other ways, too."
       Ole Kyle got this pained look on his face. I was sitting right next to him, and I squeezed his nuts about medium hard. He reared back to pop me one, which I knew I deserved, and then he remembered we were at the breakfast table. He looked at me like he was going to cream my ass later on. Kyle has a lot of cute ways about him, and that look he gave me was one of them. I started laughing, but not out loud. He laughed, too.
       "I thought some of those videos were hilarious," Gene said. "Kyle, I encouraged your mother not to watch a certain one." He winked at Kyle, and Kyle relaxed a little.
       "Are you talking about the one of them skiing," Craig asked. You could have gone all day without bringing that up, I thought.
       "I think it's a wonderful way to communicate," Rita said. "And Jeff, you really outdid yourself on Clay's page. Thank you, son."
       "You're welcome," Jeff said. "It was Kyle's idea. He copied a whole bunch of your videotapes and gave them to me. I spent almost a full week watching those tapes to find segments to digitize, and I felt as though Clay was with me the whole time. I feel as though he's still here with us."
       "I've had that same feeling lately, Jeff," Rita said.
       "Every once in a while Kyle comes up with a good idea," Gene said.
       "Kyle has lots of great ideas, Gene," Tim said.
       "For something besides mischief?"
       "Not too often," I said. "He's good at mischief, though. Ain't you, Bubba?"
       I was steady inching my hand over to his lap. I knew he could see me out of the corner of his eye, and he kept trying to push my hand away without everybody at the table knowing what was up. I was making him nervous as hell because after I squeezed his nuts, he didn't know what I was liable to do. I loved that guy so much, and I loved to tease him. I didn't get a chance to do it very much, though, at least not like that.
       "Changing the subject, I want to ask the doctors here something. How do you treat somebody that gets his hand broken," Kyle asked, all serious.
       "What a strange question," Rita said. "Why do you want to know that, Kyle?"
       "Because Justin is fixing to get his hand broken, and I just wondered if y'all could take care of it here at the house," Kyle said.
       I started laughing out loud.
       "Justin?" It was Grandma asking that.
       "Yes, ma'am. I've been teasing him. I'll be good, though. I don't want my hand broke," I said.
       "Guys, come give me a hand with something out in the kitchen," Kevin said as he stood up.
       Kyle and I looked at each other, and it was dead quiet at that table. We both said, "Yes, sir," at the same time. We got up and dragged our butts in there. Everybody in the dining room started laughing hard when the door closed behind us. They knew we were in for a private chat.
       "I don't know what you all are doing, but whatever it is, stop it," he said.
       "Yes, sir," we both said.
       "Y'all are both mighty cute this morning. Don't mess it up, okay?"
       "Yes, sir," we said again.
       "Now let's go finish breakfast."
       We marched back into the dining room.
       "That was quick," Tim said.
       Everybody was quiet waiting for us to say something.
       "Quick but painful," Kyle said.
       The kids laughed, and then the grownups laughed when they saw he was just kidding.
       "Here's what I thought we would do, if everybody's agreeable," Grandma said. "Odille has made po' boy sandwiches for us to take. We'll take fruit, chips, and other food to nibble on. We'll stop and pick up some fried chicken, too. That's sort of a 'must' for a Carnival parade. As far as I'm concerned, we can leave any time."
       "Mom, give us about a half hour, okay," Kevin said.
       "Sure. We need a few minutes to organize ourselves. Rita, would you be interested in a little shopping before the parade," she asked.
       "Beth, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've not been interested in shopping," Rita said.
       "Cherie, dear, you're welcome to join us, of course, but I thought you might be more interested in doing what the boys are going to do," Grandma said.
       "What are the boys going to do," Cherie asked.
       "There are two outstanding museums in very close proximity to where we'll be for the parades. I'm sure we'll have time to get in at least one of those this morning. It's only 8:30," Grandpa said.
       "I understand the National D-Day Museum is quite something," Doc said. "I wouldn't mind seeing that."
       "I wouldn't either," Gene said. "One of my uncles took part in the Normandy Invasion, and he told some unbelievable stories about it."
       I scanned from eye to eye of my brothers, and I saw nothing but pain. Craig noticed, too, and he grinned.
       "Cherie and I want to take the boys to the Quarter," Craig said. "Can they do the museum another time?"
       "Oh, sure. We'll be back a lot," Kevin said.
       God bless you, my brothers, I thought.
       "I'd still like to see the museum. Could we do that? All split up," Doc asked.
       "Absolutely, George," Rick said. "We won't let Tim run wild."
       Doc kind of chuckled. He was a hell of a nice man. A great man, even, but his idea of fun was sure different from mine.
       "Well, that's it, then. Craig, Cherie, Rick, and I will take the five guys to the Quarter. George, Gene, and Dad will go to the museum, and Rita and Mom will go shopping," Kevin said.
       "Great plan," Craig said. "We probably all need to be back at Cherie's office by 12:30. The first parade starts at noon, but it starts up on Napoleon Avenue, I think. It'll probably get to us at one or 1:30. Maybe later, but we need to get places on the street. There will be a lot of people out on a day as nice as this one is."
       All nine of us piled into Rick's truck. I had Brian on my lap that time, and, yes, of course, I did get a boner. Kyle knew it, too. He had his hands in his lap, and he kept slowly raising up his finger like a dick getting hard. Cherie saw him do it and was silently laughing her ass off. She was really cool, and I might even have wanted to be straight if I thought I could find me one like her.
       Brian knew what was going on with my dick, too, and he was squirming around on purpose.
       "Buddy, please keep still," I said.
       "I'm not doing that. It's the car that's doing it to me," he said.
       What he said was cute as hell, but I knew it wasn't true. I was about to cream my jeans right there, in front of God, Cherie, and everybody.
       "Kyle, let Brian sit on your lap for a little while," Rick said.
       Brian moved over to Kyle.
       "Come here and snuggle with me some, Buddy. I saw you sleeping this morning, man, and you looked like an angel," Kyle said.
       Brian blushed so red I thought his skin would pop open. I thought, You deserve it for what you were trying to do to me. I couldn't resist, though. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a tiny massage. He turned to face me, and he grinned. God, he was so cute.
       * * *
       We parked in a lot near Cherie's office. The lot charged twenty-five bucks for the day, but they didn't seem to think that was too much. I guess if you divided it by the nine people in the car, it wasn't that bad, per head. We walked over to the French Quarter. It wasn't all that far, and I sort of enjoyed being amongst all the people and big buildings and all.
       That French Quarter was hopping that morning. We made a beeline for Bourbon Street.
       "When we get to Bourbon, I suggest we all hold hands," Craig said. "Not abreast, though. We'll never get down the street like that. Does anybody have a problem with holding hands in a line?"
       We all laughed. I wouldn't mind holding your hand or your whatever, I thought. I didn't say anything though, with his wife there, and all. I'm here to tell you, though, that Craig would have made a damn fine queer.
       When we got to Bourbon Street, I saw why he suggested we hold hands. My God, the people! It was just about shoulder to shoulder. In some places it was even closer than that.
       I had Cherie in one hand and Brian in the other. I leaned as close to her as I could get to talk to her.
       "Pass it up the line to Rick. Tell him we're nuts to butts." She thought that was funny, and she almost stopped walking to laugh. Craig pulled off her hand, and I almost ran over her. When she told Craig what I had said, he did the same thing. Rick laughed hard when Craig told him.
       "What the hell's so damn funny, Davis," Kyle screamed from behind me.
       "I told Rick we're so tight here we're nuts to butts," I screamed back.
       People all around us started laughing. Total strangers, but they knew the truth.
       We finally got to where Craig was leading us. It was in front of some place called Ambush Communications, or something like that. It was a corner building with a huge balcony on two sides. The balcony was all decorated up, and there were a bunch of guys, and some women, too, on it with beads in their hands. It wasn't quite as crowded there as it had been walking up the street. There was a sign up on the balcony that said, "You show it. We throw it."
       "Tim, remember when you asked about the place where you catch beads? This is the place, Bubba," Kevin said.
       "You mean for showing your dick," Tim asked.
       "Exactly," Craig said. "Or your whatever, if you don't have a dick."
       "I want to do it," Kyle said.
       "If you do it, I'm doing it," I said.
       "Let's do it, Bubba," Kyle said. He was really excited. I just hoped he wasn't hard.
       "On three," Kyle said. "One. Two. Three."
       I popped open my jeans and flipped that thing out. I looked both ways down the row, and everybody else, including Craig, had done the same thing. Cherie didn't have a dick to pull out, but she was showing some mighty fine tit. The guys on the balcony started cheering and pelting us with beads. One of them hit Brian right on his dick.
       "Hey, that's my boyfriend. Be careful. I need that," I yelled up to them. That really made 'em laugh, and they threw more beads to us. We were scampering around the street trying to grab 'em all before other people got 'em, the waistbands of our briefs caught up under our balls in some cases.
       "Who are you guys," somebody up there said.
       "We're from Florida," Rick called out. "Seven gay brothers and one straight brother and sister."
       "Get your asses up here right now," the man on the balcony said. "Officer, let them up, please."
       Before we put everything away, I reached down and pulled on Kyle's dick. He let out a scream, even though I hadn't done it hard, and everybody on the balcony laughed. Jeff was shooting pictures of us, and I knew he got a couple of me doing that.
       When he said that about letting us up, that was the first time I noticed there was a cop right there standing in front of this green door. He opened it for us with a key. We climbed the stairs.
       When we got to the upstairs, the guy who had invited us up was there to greet us. We introduced ourselves all around, and he introduced us to his partner.
       "There's plenty to eat and drink here," the man said. "Get you some and then come out on the balcony with us."
       It hadn't been that long since breakfast, but that didn't stop us from diving into the eats. That table was groaning, it was so heavy with food, and it was all good. I got me a handful of boiled shrimp already peeled, some red sauce to dip 'em in, two or three crackers full of crab dip, some cheese, and some raw vegetables with dip. Craig and Kyle spotted raw oysters out on the back balcony that overlooked their garden, and they went after those. Kyle had taught me to like raws pretty good, but it was still early in the day for them. That boy could eat 'em round the clock, though.
       There was a bar set up with a bartender. We went up to that to get something to drink. Tim and Brian both wanted Cokes. Jeff said he wanted Coke and bourbon. I said, "Make it two."
       We went out on the balcony. It was a really nice day, and it was pretty warm.
       "Is it okay if I take off my shirt," I asked Rick.
       He laughed, so I figured it was okay. A couple of guys on the balcony whistled at me, but I didn't pay them any mind. Kyle came out there in a little while. When he saw I had my shirt off, he took his off, too. Then Tim and Brian took theirs off, too, and so did Craig. Kyle had a good bit of hair on his chest. I had seen it before, of course, but that was the first time it ever really looked sexy to me. Jeff noticed it, too, as did some of the guys on the balcony. Kyle was a very good looking fella, and there was no question about that.
       "Did you bring your camera, Flash," I said. I liked to call him Flash, and he liked it, too.
       "Oh, yeah," he said, and he dug it out. He started taking pictures like mad.
       "How many disks did you bring, Kyle," Jeff asked.
       "Two hundred floppies and two 32-meg memory sticks. I should have plenty," Kyle said.
       "I bought one just like yours," Jeff said.
       "Yeah, I saw you taking pictures when we were down on the street. Those are going up, dude. For sure," he said.
       I had no idea what they were talking about, but I knew there were going to be lots of pictures for the Internet. I didn't have anybody to tell about that Internet stuff, but I enjoyed looking at us on there.
       Cherie told us when we had about another half hour to stay there before we had to go back for the parades. I was standing there talking to Kevin and Rick and a couple of other guys that I didn't know. This big hairy guy dressed in black leather came up to us. He rubbed on my tit a little bit.
       "You living here now, boy?"
       "No, sir. I live in Florida. I'm just visiting for Mardi Gras," I said. He looked vaguely familiar to me.
       "I want your ass, boy. Now!!"
       I was so scared I almost shit.
       "Get your hand off him right now," Rick said. Then he yelled, "Kyle, come here."
       "Who do you think you are, dude," the guy said. "I know him. This is some prime ass, right here, and I want me some of it right now."
       Kyle got there right then. "What do you want, Rick? I'm taking pictures."
       "Well, take a picture of this motherfucker while he still has teeth. He's hassling Justin, and your brother needs help."
       Kyle's camera was on a chord around his neck. He dropped that camera in a heartbeat. He checked out what was going on, and he knocked that guy's hand off my chest and laid a hearty knee into that guy's crotch. Down he went.
       Kyle was just poised to kick his head in when Kevin grabbed him and pulled him back.
       "If you fuck with my brother again, motherfucker, I will kill your fucking ass. Do you hear me?" Kyle was pissed. "He is NOT a whore, and he's NOT some piece of meat you can play with whenever and however you want to. He is my brother, motherfucker, and don't forget it."
       The room busted into applause. Some guy came over and helped the asshole up. I guess it was his friend or partner or somebody. I clenched Kyle in a big hug. He and I were both shirtless, and he was sweaty. I didn't mind that, though.
       "We almost had us a chance to really kick some ass," I said. I knew he wanted to play Superman worse than anything.
       "I know. But who would have ever thought it would be over you," he said. He grinned real cute at me.
       We left that place right after that. Our hosts were so apologetic and so nice. They wanted us to come back that night and on Tuesday, too, and we said that maybe we would.
       "Are you okay, Buddy," Brian asked me, as we were walking to Cherie's office.
       "Yeah, I'm fine, Buddy," I said.
       "I feel so much safer than I used to. Our brothers have us covered, don't they?"
       "Yeah, they do, Buddy. Never worry about that," I said.

Chapter 12

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I almost got me a chance to kick some major ass, but it was a gay guy, not a homophobic guy. Those guys were the ones I really wanted. That guy who messed with Justin, though, needed his ass kicked, too, even if he was gay. Nobody treats my brother like meat. Nobody.
       Those parades that first afternoon were so much fun. I thought you just watched the parade. I didn't know they threw all that stuff. Or if I knew, I had forgotten. I got excited when I realized what was going on, and I screamed my lungs out over those beads. I got Tim up on my shoulders at one point, and we went up to the floats to beg for beads. I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with them, besides hang a few from the rear-view mirror of my car. But we got hundreds of strings of beads, and that was only the first day.
       That Endymion parade that night was the best. They had these gigantic double-decker floats with a whole bunch of people throwing beads and trinkets and doubloons and plastic cups. I had been a lot of places and done a lot of things in my life, but that was one of the best, as far as just having pure fun was concerned. I wondered for a second if Tim was having a good time. Then I looked over at him and saw that he was having a great time. Everybody was.
       The Endymion parade was over pretty early, about 8:30. Kevin suggested we go back to the French Quarter. First, we went and got us muffaletto sandwiches at that grocery store. Those sandwiches were soooooo good. I had ordered one by that name at a sandwich shop in Emerald Beach, and it wasn't even a third as good as those we got that night. My motto is, If a place invents a sandwich, only get it there. Don't fuck around with knock-offs. Get the original.
       We ended up back in the eighth block of Bourbon Street that night. The parents had gone home, so it was just the nine younger generation. We ranged in age from 15 to, like, 28. That was only thirteen years, and I had heard of a lot of families who had a string of kids, with the last ones being that far apart from the first ones. Craig was the oldest, and Brian was the youngest.
       "Those parades were awesome," I said.
       We had taken pillowcases to put our stuff in that we caught, and we ended up with two full pillowcases of beads and trinkets. We had put all our stuff together.
       "Do you want to keep that shit, or do you want to see if we can get back on that balcony from this morning so we can throw it," Craig asked.
       "Do you think they want us," Kevin asked.
       "They said come back. I think we made a pretty big hit, especially with Kyle's defense of Justin. We can check it out. If they don't want us up there, we can just party in the street," Craig said.
       There was a different crowd on that balcony that night, but the head guy recognized us and invited us up. I was taking pictures right and left, and I was getting some good ones of the street and of those boys showing their dicks. Most of those guys looked like they were in college at least, so I was pretty sure Kevin would give them his okay. There wasn't any sex involved; it was just good, clean fun. I didn't really care, though. I was having fun taking the pictures, even if we couldn't use them on our Web site. I caught quite a few tits, too. My only worry was that they wouldn't come out good because it was night time and the only light came from street lights and lights on the buildings.
       Then we started throwing the stuff we had caught that afternoon and night. Some boy would come up and whip it out. Sometimes he was alone, but often he was with his girlfriend or a gang of friends. A few were with guys who looked like boyfriends, and a few of them helped the guy take it out. We didn't care if they were gay, straight, or in between. We were having a great time, and the people in the street were, too. We had the benefit of a ton of food if we wanted it, all the booze we could drink, and a place to pee.
       "You having fun, Stud," Justin asked me.
       "Yeah, I'm having a great time. How about you?"
       "I am, too. Listen, I'm sorry I was such an asshole at breakfast this morning," he said.
       "You mean for doing this?" I grabbed his nuts hard but no harder than he had grabbed mine.
       "Ow! That hurts," he said.
       "I know it does. It hurt me, too. But I'm going to forgive you this time," I said. We were both smiling and playing around.
       "Kyle . . ."
       "What," I asked.
       "I love you, dude," he said. He was dead serious, and I almost cried.
       "I love you, too. We're brothers forever, right?"
       "Absolutely. And thanks for kicking that guy's ass for me today."
       "I'll do that any time I need to, for you or for any of us," I said. "You were scared, weren't you?"
       "I was so scared, I was shaking like a leaf," he said.
       "Why didn't you call me?"
       "I would have, but Rick and Kevin were right there. I knew they'd help, or get you to help," he said.
       "Well, let's hope no more of these assholes recognize you and think they own you," I said.
       We threw some more beads, and then we decided to walk the street. We still had a ton of beads and stuff in our pillowcases, and Justin and Tim were carrying them. I had my backpack with disks and other stuff in it and my camera around my neck. I had been reading up some on photography, and I had decided I wanted to get me a good regular camera, not digital. I was willing to save up for that.
       We decided to go home around eleven o'clock. Sunday was going to be a pretty big day, and we were all tired, anyway.

(Tim's Perspective)
       We had an unbelievably good day on Saturday. Kyle had to whip some guy's ass for picking on Justin. I didn't see it happen because I was outside on the balcony, but they told me about it. I was so proud of him I could bust.
       We caught a ton of stuff from the floats. Kyle put me on his shoulders, and I talked to the people on the floats. One of the floats was all ladies, and I made out like a bandit from them. One lady gave me a whole bag of beads that hadn't even been opened. I knew they thought I was cute, and I made sure to be really polite to them.
       Kyle was really pumped up after all of that. It was our turn to sleep on the air mattress on the floor, and I was hoping the rest of them would go to sleep quickly so we could make love. I know Justin and Brian fooled around some with Jeff, just like we had done the night before, because I could hear 'em. It didn't last long, though, and they went to sleep.
       I had been rubbing Kyle's chest, feeling the hair on it. He was the only one of us who had any hair on his chest, and I loved how soft it felt. He had always had some ever since I knew him, but until recently it was very light and super fine. I don't know if the rest of them knew that or not because you really couldn't see it before unless you got up as close to it as I had while I was kissing his chest.
       When it had been quiet for a few minutes, Kyle started kissing me. He liked to play with my tongue with his, and sometimes just kissing was as good as anything else we did. He kissed his way down my chest and stomach, and took my dick into his mouth. It felt so good to be in his warm, wet mouth. He didn't finish me off that way, though. He got down between my legs and tongued my hole a while. Then he got inside me. Everything always felt good when he made love to me, but sometimes it was better than other times. That particular night he was super charged from the day, and he let me have all of his energy and excitement. Kyle had much better control than I did, and that night he drew it out a long time. We were on our sides. He started sucking the one nipple of mine he could get to, and that was all it took. I blasted so hard that some of it hit him on his cheek. I knew he could have gone on for a longer time, but he came right after I did. He didn't pull out.
       "I love you so much," he said. "I want all of you forever."
       I told him I loved him, but he didn't say anything. I lowered my leg that was raised to give him full access. I felt him breathing deep and steady, and I knew he was asleep.
       * * *
       We rolled out early the next morning. I could have used a little more sleep, but Kyle woke me up to take a shower with him around seven. I could tell he was really excited about the day, but he was also excited over me. We stood in the bathroom kissing. We were naked, and we rubbed our dicks back and forth against each other until we both came. That was pretty intense, and it was a great way to start the day.
       As busy as Saturday had been, Sunday was even busier. We ate a big breakfast, as we usually did, and then we packed up all the stuff we were taking. We had some lawn chairs for people to sit on. We had taken those on Saturday, too, but there wasn't much room on the sidewalk for more than a few of those. Mostly Grandma and Miss Rita sat down, but that was really just before the parade started. They said there were three parades on Saturday, but they were back to back so there wasn't any time between them. There were going to be four on Sunday where we were going to be.
       We got downtown about ten o'clock, and the first thing we did, after we parked the cars, was to set up our spot on the sidewalk. The sidewalk was about twenty or thirty feet wide, and it went right from the street to the buildings. There wasn't any grass anywhere around there. It was bright sunshine, and I knew it was just a matter of time before the shirts came off.
       The boys all went for a walk after we were set up. There was a giant statue of Robert E. Lee on a high column that was on a big mound a few blocks down from where we were. We walked down there.
       "Look at that dude," Justin said. There was a really big guy in a black tank top with tiny straps. He was really good looking, and he must have been a body builder or something. "How'd you like to get after some of that, Jeff? Maybe he needs a date."
       Jeff laughed, but he didn't say anything. Kyle had his camera, of course, and he took the guy's picture. The guy didn't see him do it, though. He also took pictures of the monument and of us around the base of it. Justin teased Kyle by calling him Flash, but I noticed Jus was right there grinning whenever Kyle was taking pictures of us.
       When we got back to our spot, some more people from Cherie's office were there. A few had come out the day before, but she had said we could expect a lot more that day.
       "It's gotten to the point that Sunday is almost as big a day as Mardi Gras," Cherie said. "And I can't get over how nice this weather is. Do you remember last year, Hon?"
       "Yeah. It was freezing-ass cold and damp," Craig said.
       Some of the new people were two kids, a girl and a boy, who looked like they were about our ages. The girl was Amy and the boy was Seth.
       "Hey, dude. My name is Kyle Goodson." He stuck out his hand to shake hands with the guy.
       "Seth Adams," the boy said. They shook hands, but he seemed like he was shy or something.
       "How old are you, man," Kyle asked.
       "Seventeen."
       "Cool. So am I, and so is this guy. This is Justin Davis and Tim Murphy and Brian Mathews and Jeff Martin. Tim and Brian are both fifteen, Justin and I are both seventeen, and Jeff is twenty," Kyle said.
       He shook hands with everybody, but he didn't say anything.
       "Are you a senior," Kyle asked him.
       "No, I'm a junior. I just had my birthday," he said. "That looks like a nice camera."
       "Thanks. Here, let me take your picture with your sister," Kyle said. He had introduced himself and us to the sister, too. She was younger than Seth, probably thirteen. She still had her braces on her teeth, and she didn't have very big boobs.
       "I'll put it on our Web site, if you don't mind," Kyle said.
       "Cool. You have your own Web site?"
       "It's for our family. Jeff built it, and he and I maintain it," he said. "I'd show it to you if we had a computer."
       "There are plenty of them in my dad's office. It's right in this building," Seth said.
       "How long before the parade gets here, Kev," Kyle asked.
       "About an hour or so, maybe a little more," he said.
       "Kevin, did you meet Seth? Seth, this is Kevin Foley."
       They shook hands.
       "Seth and I are going into the building. Come on, Tim," he said, and I went with them.
       Kyle opened the Web site and let Seth look at the pictures. They had decided to make it seasonal, so there were only pictures that had been taken in December, January, and February. I was sort of glad there weren't any of me naked up on the site at the moment. I'm not shy or embarrassed to be naked around our guys, but I didn't know that Seth kid.
       "What's this memorial page about," Seth asked.
       "It's about my brother. He died," Kyle said.
       "Car wreck," Seth asked.
       "No. He got sick from a drug he got in the hospital," Kyle said. "He was only twenty when he died. It was last October."
       "I'm sorry."
       "Thanks."
       "Can I look at the videos?"
       "Sure. They work," Kyle said.
       He laughed at the one of Kyle peeing on himself and at the one of Kyle kicking Clay in the nuts. He watched the one of them skiing and kept cutting his eyes back at Kyle's face.
       "Who is that," Seth asked.
       "It's me and my brother," Kyle said.
       "Where were you," he asked.
       "In the lagoon behind my house," Kyle said. "And, yes, those are houses on the other side. I guess we gave everybody a free show that day."
       "Did you guys . . ." He just stopped talking.
       "Did we what," Kyle asked.
       "Did you, er, see each other naked all the time?"
       "Just about every day. There was a bathroom between our bedrooms that we both used, so, yeah, we saw each other a lot. He was my brother. Do you have a brother?"
       "No. I wish I did, though. All I have in Amy, and she really gets on my nerves sometimes," Seth said.
       "When you see the next video, you'll see that he got on my nerves sometimes," Kyle said.
       We watched the last video, but Seth didn't comment about it.
       "This is a really nice Web site," he said. "Thanks for showing it to me. One thing I wondered about, though. On the first page, it said something about nudity and that the pages with nude pictures would be marked. Did I miss something, or was that warning just for the video of you and your brother skiing?"
       "No, they're not there. We have some pictures from pool parties, and most of the time we swim nude at those parties. We'll put those up, or new ones, at least, when we start swimming again," Kyle said.
       "Any nude girls," he asked.
       "Naw. Just guys. My parents would freak if we had girls and guys all swimming naked in our pool," Kyle said.
       "Can we look at the pictures you took last night," I asked.
       "Yeah. Do we have time?"
       "That man you introduced me to said we had about an hour, but I read in the newspaper the time it's expected to get to Gallier Hall, and we have another thirty minutes," Seth said.
       Kyle popped the first disk into the computer, clicked on an icon on the desktop, and we started looking at pictures. The first ones were street scenes, and then there were some of the parades.
       "Find the balcony pictures," I said.
       "I thought these were in order, but maybe I started at the wrong end of the stack," Kyle said.
       He popped in another disk, and that time he got the ones I was interested in. The very first one was of a really handsome young guy who had his pants open and his dick hanging out.
       "Where did you take these," Seth asked.
       "In the French Quarter, on Bourbon Street," Kyle said.
       "I've never seen anything like this before," he said. "Why were they doing that?"
       "So we'd throw 'em beads," Kyle said.
       "We don't have to look at any more. I just wanted to see if they came out good," I said. It had been night time, and Kyle had said he hoped the pictures would come out since there wasn't any sun.
       "How many do you have," Seth asked.
       "A couple of dozen disks, I guess," Kyle said. "We can go down, though."
       "Let's look at a few more," Seth said. "I'm curious to see if I recognize anybody."
       "Recognize their dick," I asked.
       Kyle laughed, but Seth blushed hard. God, I didn't mean to embarrass the guy. I was just making a wisecrack like we always did.
       Kyle put another disk in the computer, and we continued to look at them.
       "They are so big," Seth said.
       I didn't think they were all that big. In fact, a good many of them were smaller than Kyle and me. Seth was sitting in the middle between us. Kyle did a thing with his finger and thumb to show about a half inch, and he pointed to Seth behind his back. I wanted to laugh out loud, but I knew Seth would have wanted to know what was so funny, so I kept my mouth shut.
       After a few more disks, we went down to the street, and the parade got there in about fifteen minutes. We watched Okeanos, Thoth, and Mid-City, all in a row. Then there was a break for a few hours before Bacchus rolled our way.
       During the first parade, Kyle started sweating. It was in the seventies and very humid, so he took his shirt off. All the rest of the young guys in our group did the same thing. Seth kept his on, though. He was pretty skinny, and I'm sure he didn't want to be compared to Kyle and Justin, who were both buff and pretty big. Grandma made all of us put on sun screen, which she had brought for us, and that was probably a good idea.
       It was like Seth couldn't take his eyes off Kyle and Justin. One time a pair of beads hit his chest, but he didn't get them because he wasn't paying attention. I didn't think anything of it because Kyle and Jus were nice to look at, but I also thought it was kind of strange that Seth would be paying more attention to them than to the parade. He also checked out Kevin, Rick, and Craig pretty well. He scanned Brian a few times, too. If he looked at me, I didn't notice it. By the end of those first three parades, I liked Seth and was willing to be his friend. Evidently, we were going to spend a good bit of time with him over that Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, so we might as well like him.
       We went up into the building to Cherie's private office after the third parade. We all got a pretty good load of food, and my baby zonked out. He had gotten up early that morning, and he had spent a whole lot of energy being excited and carrying on over the parades. The office had nice, thick carpet on the floor, and Kyle curled up into a little fetal ball and went to sleep. Nobody paid any attention to him, although Justin did take several pictures of him with Kyle's camera. In a little while, most of us either went to sleep or closed our eyes to rest them. Kyle woke up around six o'clock, and he was the last to wake up.
       "Kyle, you were beautiful when you were asleep," Grandma said.
       Kyle actually blushed a little bit when she said that.
       "I know. Too bad he turns into a troll when he wakes up," Justin said.
       Three or four people laughed when he said that.
       Kyle was the kind of person who woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed every day, ready for anything the minute he opened his eyes. He was sluggish and kind of dazed that evening, though. He hadn't eaten anything in a couple of hours, and he had the tell-tale sign of a boy waking up who had to go to the bathroom sticking up in his lap. He got up and sort of stumbled to the restroom. I went after him.
       He and I were both standing at urinals. They were just on the wall without any partitions between them. Kyle wore the kind of underwear that didn't have a piss hole in it, so he opened his belt and pulled down the front of his briefs to pee, like he always did. He was hard as a rock, and it took him several seconds before he could start. He was at the middle one of three urinals, and I was at the one on his left. Who should come in just then but Seth.
       "Hi," Seth said. He pulled up to the only free urinal and started getting his stuff out.
       "Hi, Seth," I said, but Kyle just sort of grunted a greeting to him.
       Seth looked at Kyle's crotch out of the corner of his eye, and then he started to get hard, too.
       "Seth, Kyle just woke up from a long nap. He's kind of out of it right now," I said.
       "Hi, Seth," Kyle finally said. "Sorry, man, but I am kind of out of it, and this damn thing ain't working." He was having trouble starting to urinate, and I wasn't surprised. I often couldn't pee right away when I was hard in the morning either, even though I had to go bad.
       Seth didn't say anything, but he glanced at Kyle's dick. He hadn't peed a drop, but he packed it away and zipped up. He was out of there in a heartbeat.
       "He's embarrassed," Kyle said. "We gotta make it right."
       Kyle and I caught up with Seth, who looked like a deer in the headlights, or something. Kyle was really, really nice to him and told him he shouldn't be embarrassed. I always thought Kyle was at his best when he was trying to make somebody who was hurting feel good. I think he succeeded with Seth. He went into Cherie's office with us to get something to eat. In a few minutes we locked up Cherie's office and then went downstairs to watch the parade.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I thought the Endymion parade was good, and it was, but that Bacchus one was un-fucking-believable. Nicholas Cage was the celebrity king, and he was one of my favorites. That Gallier Hall place was just a couple of blocks down from us, so a whole bunch of us ran down there to see Nicholas Cage toast the mayor, or whoever. It was a sort of light-skinned black guy, so I guess that was the mayor. Anyway, ole Nick looked mighty good on that float. I wanted to climb up there and shake his hand. Instead, I just stood on the street and clapped for him real hard. I thought they probably would arrest me if I tried to climb up the float.
       We moved on back to where our people were, but we caught a hell of a lot of beads in those couple of blocks because all of the floats were stopped for the toast. Those guys were humming those things at us, and I figured they had all been center fielders or something. This one guy told me to go out, like I was going out for a pass in football. He threw me a whole unopened bag of beads. Tim had scored a bag like that on Saturday, but the lady had just handed it to him. I had to catch mine amidst a whole bunch of people. I felt really good about that.
       Bacchus was over pretty early, too, just like Endymion had been the night before. I felt really rested and good, so I was ready to party when it was over.
       Kevin, my dad, and Justin were standing talking together when I went up to them.
       "Kevin, can we go to the Quarters tonight," I asked.
       It stopped them dead in their tracks.
       "What did you say," my dad asked.
       "I said, can we go to the Quarters. We've had so much fun there. I want to go back."
       Justin had a big shit-eating grin on his face, and I wanted him to stop it. It was like he knew something I didn't know.
       "Son, you don't mean the Quarters. You mean the Quarter. The French Quarter," my dad said.
       "Yeah. Whatever. I don't get the difference," I said.
       "Bubba, the word Quarters, with an 's' on the end, refers to the part of town where the black people live," Justin said. "It's kind of racist, you know?"
       "No, I didn't know that, Jus. How is that racist?"
       "Well, Quarters, like slave quarters, you know?"
       "How was I supposed to know that? Nobody ever told me that."
       I was pretty annoyed. My parents had raised me to be against racism. We only had a dozen or so black kids in my school of about 1,350, and all of them were boys who had been enticed from in town to go to school there to play sports. The state had a freedom of choice law when it came to which school you wanted to go to, and they had used that to get some good athletes from the city schools for the beach high school. I had gone to public schools all my life on the beach, but I had never had a black kid in a class with me. I had had a couple of black teachers in middle school and high school, but no black kids. I knew that was very unusual in the South, but that was the way it was on Emerald Beach. Almost no black people lived on the beach. Even though I didn't know many black people, I hated racists almost as much as I hated homophobes.
       "You're getting upset about this, Bubba," Kevin said. "We'll go to the Quarter, if that's what you guys want to do."
       "I'm not a racist. I don't want people thinking I am, either," I said.
       "Nobody thinks you're a racist, son," my dad said.
       "Justin does."
       "No I don't, asshole," Justin said. "Jesus, Kyle, you get some strange ideas sometimes."
       "Okay, so let's go to the Quarter," I said, making sure to say it right. They laughed a little, but I didn't intend it to be funny. "Seth wants to go with us. Can we take him home afterwards?"
       "Yeah, go get him," Kevin said.
       I found Seth. "Seth, we're going down to the Quarter. You want to go? We'll take you home afterwards."
       "Can I," he asked his parents.
       "You've had a busy day," his mom said, like she didn't want him to go.
       "Honey, he's seventeen, and it's only nine o'clock," his dad said. "Yes, you can go." His dad took out his wallet and gave Seth two twenties. I started to stick my hand out, too, but they didn't know me and probably wouldn't have thought that was funny.
       There were ten of us going down there, and we were on foot. We had a good parking place that we didn't want to lose, and it was only a few blocks to the Quarter. You couldn't drive in there anyway, so we left well enough alone. We had beads around our necks, but we didn't take the pillowcases full of them like we had the night before. I even put my camera in the trunk of my mom's car. I loved that camera, but carrying it around all the time got to be a pain sometimes. I noticed Jeff had his, though.
       The French Quarter was packed with people that night. We made it through the first six blocks of Bourbon Street holding hands like we had done before. By the seventh block, it had thinned out enough for us to walk on our own. We passed a place that had a band playing on the patio. Kevin, Rick, Cherie, Tim, Jeff, and Brian wanted to go in. Craig, Justin, and I didn't. We wanted to keep on walking. We decided to meet at that place in an hour and a half. Seth went with us.
       "Have you guys ever been to a strip show," Craig asked. We all said we hadn't been.
       "Do you want to go to one?"
       "Hell, yeah. I'll do anything," I said.
       We found a place just a little down from where we were, and we went in. We took seats at a table near the front, and the waiter was there in a minute. Craig ordered four bourbon and 7-Ups. The guy brought them, and we all started sipping. Justin lit up a smoke, and I bummed one off him and lit up, too. Seth was kind of staring at the two bad boys for smoking, but he didn't say anything. I knew he must have known guys our age who smoked.
       The show started. The first act was a really pretty girl who just danced and stripped. She was followed by a couple more who more or less did the same thing. The next act, though, was two girls. They both had huge tits, and one was rubbing her tits against the other one's tits, nipple to nipple. That seemed real sexy to me for some reason, and I got hard. Me! There I was, queer as a three dollar bill, with a hard-on over two girls! What was that all about?! I was embarrassed as hell. To make it worse, my best friend and brother, Justin Davis of Shit Hole, Alabama, reaches over and feels it.
       "Goddamn it, Justin. Keep your fucking hands to yourself, man," I said. I was pissed.
       He was laughing. "The stud's got a hard-on," he announced to Craig and Seth.
       "Why don't you stand on the fucking table and scream it out for everybody to hear? Huh?"
       "Calm down, Kyle. It ain't nothing to be ashamed of, dude," Justin said.
       Yeah, right! If you're straight, maybe, I thought.
       I took a real healthy slug of my drink, and then I lit up another cigarette. I wasn't used to smoking that much, and it burned the inside of my mouth. I didn't care, though.
       Then, to make it worse, the next act was a man and a woman. He got down to something about the size of a Kleenex and just about as transparent. The two of them were rubbing all over each other, and you could see him get hard. That boy was built, too.
       "How you like that one, Stud," Justin asked me.
       I couldn't help myself. I started laughing at him, and in a minute, Craig was about to fall out of his chair he was laughing so hard.
       The waiter came around with a second drink for everybody. I hadn't noticed Craig say anything to him, but he must have.
       "I plan to get drunk," I said, and Justin and Craig laughed. Seth didn't say anything, but he looked like he was having a good time, taking everything in. After a few more acts, the show was over.
       "Kyle, are you calmed down now," Craig asked me.
       "Yeah," I said with a little laugh. "Still rock hard, though. How about you?"
       "That's none of your business," Craig said.
       "Justin, feel these two up to see if they're hard," I said.
       He started to get out of his chair.
       "Hey, wait a minute," Seth said. There was panic in his voice.
       "I wasn't really going to do it, dude," Jus said to him. "I just do that to my stud, here."
       "What are you, queer or something," Seth asked. He didn't say it mean or anything, but you could tell he wasn't expecting the answer he got.
       "Yeah. Queer as they come."
       "You're joking, right," Seth said. "You can't be gay."
       "I don't know how to prove it, unless a blowjob will make a believer out of you," Jus said. "I'm really not joking."
       Seth blushed something awful, and then he said, "I just find it hard to believe."
       "Well believe it. How about yourself?"
       He didn't say anything.
       "I saw the way you were looking at us at the parade, Seth. If you're gay, it's okay with us. You can be yourself with us, straight or gay," Justin said.
       Seth got these big tears in his eyes. Shit, I thought. This is all wrong. This poor guy doesn't need this shit. I hadn't really thought about it before, but, thinking back, he had done some stuff to make you think he might be gay, too.
       "Seth, I'm gay, too," I said.
       "But what about . . .? Did you really get . . .?"
       "Yeah, I really did, and I don't know why I did. Did you?"
       "Only when I saw the man," Seth said, and he smiled a little, but real shy.
       "Seth, we want you to be our friend, man, and you've got to know. All of us are gay. Kevin, Rick, me, Justin, Tim, Brian, and Jeff," I said.
       "What about you," Seth asked Craig.
       "He's right on the fence and teetering," Justin said. Craig and I laughed at him.
       "No, I'm not, Seth. I'm straight, and I'm married. But I'm going to tell you something. You won't find a better bunch of guys, gay or straight, than this crew," Craig said. "If I were gay, I'd be proud to be like them."
       "I've never had this kind of conversation with anybody before," Seth said.
       "Well, you're with your brothers tonight, buddy," Jus said.
       Seth started to cry, but I could tell it was shit coming out that had been inside him for years.
       "I feel so good right now. It's like this load has been lifted off me or something," Seth said.
       "Just relax and be yourself, dude," Justin said. "You're safe with us."
       Seth was grinning big. He wasn't a cute boy, but he was a nice boy.
       "I have a million questions," he said.
       "Ask away. We'll make it up if we don't know," Jus said.
       All three of us laughed.
       "How are all of you guys related? I mean, who are you?"
       We explained all the connections among us.
       "Kyle, your parents don't care if you're gay," he asked.
       "No, they really don't," I said. "My brother was gay, too, and Jeff was his partner."
       "The brother that died?"
       I nodded. "Tim is my boyfriend. We've been together for over a year."
       "And Brian's mine," Jus said.
       "Do you, like, . . ."
       "Have sex? Yes, we do," I said.
       "You seem a lot older than Tim. You said you were seventeen, but . . ."
       "I'm a year and a half older than he is," I said.
       "That's pretty young."
       "Don't you know any seventeen-year-olds who are having sex with fifteen-year-olds," Craig asked.
       "Yeah, I know a lot. At least they say they are, and I believe them," Seth said.
       "Seth, these guys really care for their boyfriends. If you're around them long enough, you'll see they really are in love with one another. Being gay isn't a phase they're going through. It's who they are. If it's who you are, accept it and celebrate it, dude," Craig said.
       "Craig, you're about as smart as Kevin, man," Justin said. He meant that as a compliment, and if Craig knew what we thought of Kevin, he'd know just how big that compliment was.
       "Thank you, Justin," Craig said.
       "Kevin is your brother, right," Seth said.
       "Yeah. My brother and my best friend," Craig said.
       "And it doesn't bother you that he's gay?"
       "Not in the least, Seth," Craig said.
       "Wow!"
       "Guys, finish your drinks so we can catch up with the others. This has been quite an evening. We all got erections, and we all learned a lot about one another," Craig said.
       "You got one, too," Justin asked him.
       "Do you think I'm stone or something, Jus?"
       "Not all of you, but I know the part that is," Jus replied. "Or was, probably, by now."
       That made us all laugh.
       "I can't believe you joke so freely about sex and all," Seth said.
       "Shit, if you hang with us, you're going to hear all kinds of stuff," I said.
       "Good. I'm not hanging with anybody else, at least not for the next couple of days," Seth said.
       We walked down to the place where the rest of them were, and we met them as they were coming out. We didn't tell them anything we had been talking about, but Seth seemed much more relaxed and outgoing than he had before. I didn't think it was from those two watered-down drinks we had, either.
       We took Seth home. He lived in a really nice house.
       As he was getting out of the car, Seth said, "Thank you all so much, especially you, you, and you." He pointed to me, Justin, and Craig. "This has been probably the best day of my life. I'll see you all tomorrow night."
       "Do you want to hang with us during the day tomorrow," Craig asked him.
       "Yeah, that would be great. Call me, okay? Good night everybody." Then he went inside.
       "Wow! What a transformation in him," Cherie said. "He's usually as quiet as a mouse. What did y'all do? Get him laid?"
       That made everybody laugh.
       "Guys, maybe we ought to let Seth handle matters his own way, okay," Craig said.
       "Okay," Jus and I said at the same time.
       "I found out some very interesting information about my stud-buddy here tonight," Justin said. "Can I tell 'em what happened, Kyle?"
       "No," I said.
       "We told you it's nothing to be ashamed of, Kyle. If you are, forget it, man," Craig said.
       "My God! I'm dying of curiosity," Rick said.
       I thought about it a minute. It had happened, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. If they didn't find out, Justin would tease me about it and hold it over my head.
       "We went to a strip show at a bar," I said. "There were these two women rubbing their bare tits together, and I thought it was sexy. I got a ha . . . er, an erection, and Justin saw it. That's it."
       Everybody in the car thought that was the funniest damn thing they ever heard, and then Tim started going "woooo-woooo" at me.
       "Craig, you're our straight male resource person, and I want you to tell the truth. If you saw two guys rubbing their erections together, would that arouse you," Kevin asked.
       "No way," Craig said.
       "Bullshit! You know it would, Craig," Cherie said, "and seeing two women having sex would arouse me."
       "Yeah, it would arouse me to see that," Craig said. "And I'm not ashamed to say it."
       "Kyle, you heard 'em, Bubba. You're still as gay as you always were, son. You haven't quit the team," Kevin said.
       "No, you didn't quit the team, Stud; it's more like you missed an easy infield pop-up fly," Justin said, "and there was definitely a pop-up."
       Everybody laughed; even me. I felt sort of relieved after that conversation. All of a sudden I got this huge surge of love for everybody in that car. I knew I was right where I would always want to be. With people I loved and who loved me.

Chapter 13

(Justin's Perspective, Monday)
       When they were talking about going to Mardi Gras when we were in New Orleans at Christmas, I didn't even know what that was. I had heard of it and all, and I had known a few people who had gone down to Mobile from my town to see the one they had there. But I'm telling you, this thing we were at was a pure sight. And they said that Tuesday's the best day.
       I got a kick about ole Kyle getting a hard-on watching those two women rub their tits together in that bar. Now that was something I had never seen before, too. Anybody stripping, I mean. I knew Kyle was just as queer as I was, but I loved to give him a hard time about secretly being straight. That was an opportunity too good to pass up, and I think it actually worried him a little, too. Of course, if Kyle turned straight as a poker it wouldn't matter to me one bit. I'd still love him, and I know he'd still love me, too. Sometimes I felt a little guilty for liking Kyle as much as I did, and I was careful to be extra good to Brian so he wouldn't get jealous. I felt like Brian needed me to be his protector, as well as his lover, and I never wanted to lose him.
       I had sort of expected for things to be a little slack in the sex department on that trip, what with all those people in that one house, but so far that hadn't happened. Craig made drinks for everybody when we came home Sunday night, but Brian said he was tired and wanted to go to bed instead of staying up talking. Kyle gave me a look like he knew what that was really all about, but that sucker had slept a good two hours that afternoon, so I was sure he could have partied all night long.
       We were back on the air mattress that night. I locked the door to the room to be on the safe side, but I knew it would be at least an hour before the rest of them came to bed. I sprawled out on the mattress, buck naked, or butt naked as Kyle said, and Brian started working on me. He got on top of me and kissed me long and deep. We were both hard in no time. Then he started running his fingertips all up and down my body so gentle I almost couldn't feel it sometimes. He had done a little of that a time or two before, but that night that was all he did. That might not sound like much of a turn-on, but, damn, it felt good. I was so turned on by it I could hardly breathe. He kept it up for a good half hour. Finally I couldn't take it any more. He was barely brushing the hairs on my ball sack when I popped off and pumped out enough cum to drown a small animal. I wanted him to feel as good as I did, but I would need a few minutes to recover. Then he did something he had never done before. He lit a cigarette and handed it to me. We hadn't been smoking in the house because we knew Grandma and Grandpa didn't like it, but after he had done that I couldn't say no.
       I was totally relaxed after my smoke. I decided to do something I hadn't done very often, and that was to suck Brian off and give him the finger. What we usually do after kissing and rubbing against one another and all that is he sucks me enough to get me so hot for him I can't stand it, and then I fuck him. I suck him sometimes, too, but it's usually in a sixty-nine position where he can't fully concentrate on what I do to him because of having to concentrate on me. That night, though, it was all about him. I lubed up a couple of fingers real good, and I rubbed his sweet spot nice and easy inside him while I was working on his dick with my mouth. I've been told I'm a very good cocksucker, and God knows I've done it enough for that to be true. I gave it everything I knew how to give that night, and he came as hard as I believe I'd ever seen him come. When he was done and we had cleaned up, I unlocked the door so the others could come to bed when they were ready. I snuggled up to my precious little guy, and both of us drifted off long before the others came into the room. I'm sure Kyle and Tim took care of Jeff and each other, but that's just speculation based on what I know of them because Brian and I were dead to the world.

(Kevin's Perspective, Monday)
       Sunday was a great day. The Mid-City parade was beautiful with all the animation and all that multi-colored foil they use on their floats. They had changed their route that year. Ordinarily they paraded in Mid-City, the neighborhood around City Park, the racetrack, and the cemetery end of Canal Street. The few times I had seen it, we were standing on the neutral ground, which people elsewhere call the median, across from St. Anthony of Padua Church. I hadn't expected that parade to be on our list that year because I didn't know ahead of time about the route change. Our location in front of Cherie's building near Julia Street was perfect, though, and we were able to catch every major parade while we were in town.
       Monday was going to be another busy day. Gene, Rita, and George seemed to be holding out pretty well. They weren't as old as my parents, but my parents had been doing it for fifty-something years so they knew what to expect. Stamina is important at Mardi Gras season.
       Rick got up early Monday morning to run. He was only gone about forty minutes, but he came back all hot and sweaty and irresistible. I was glad he had gotten over his shyness about making love in my parents' house, and we had a fine session that morning.
       "Do you think the kids are having sex here," he asked.
       "Babe, that's kind of a silly question, don't you think?"
       "Yeah, it is. They seem to be having a great time, don't they?"
       "Kyle has thanked me about five times a day for us bringing them," I said. "Leave it to him to make a new friend, too. I tried to get Craig to tell me why Seth had said that yesterday was the best day of his life, but he wouldn't budge. Maybe my big brother has some ethics after all."
       "Kevin, you know Craig has good ethics," Rick said.
       "You really love him, don't you," I asked.
       "Yeah, I do. Are you jealous?"
       I just laughed, and he and I giggled like two teenage girls at a slumber party.
       "Justin told me yesterday that he wouldn't mind being straight if he could have Cherie, and then later on he said he thought Craig would make a damn fine queer," Rick said.
       That made both of us laugh.
       "Oh, could you believe that conversation on the way home last night about Kyle getting hard for the two female strippers," I asked.
       Rick laughed. "No, but wasn't that pure Kyle? You handled that very well, by the way. When I think about all the gay kids out there who are totally fucked up about being gay and then compare them to him, it's just incredible. He's probably the best adjusted person I know, gay or straight, and that includes us."
       "You don't think we're well adjusted?"
       "Babe, I didn't say that, now did I? Of course we're well adjusted. We couldn't be as happy as we are if we weren't, but we're twenty-six years old. He's only seventeen."
       "I know. I was teasing you," I said. "He doesn't have time to be maladjusted. He's got pictures to take, fun to have, and a pack of boys to run."
       We both laughed.
       "I feel like I'm the luckiest man in the world, Kevin. To have you, our kids, our families, all our friends, good jobs, good health. Thank you for loving me."
       What did I do to deserve him? I wanted to respond, but I couldn't. If I tried to say something, I knew I would cry. Instead of talking, I locked him in a kiss, and I held it until I was calm enough to speak.
       "We need a shower," I said.
       We kissed and held each other close while we waited for the hot water to come up. We were both rock hard again as we started bathing. In a second, Rick dropped the bar of soap and bent over to get it, his butt facing me. I didn't respond, and in another second he dropped it again. I laughed, but I finally caught on. I did for him in the shower what he had done for me a short time before in bed.
       * * *
       Evidently my mother had prevailed upon Odille to come in that morning to cook breakfast for us and to make food for us for the day. There were fourteen of us, and our seven, plus Craig, had enormous appetites. Breakfast was laid out buffet style on the sideboard in the dining room, and it was quite an elaborate display. Besides the scrambled eggs, grits, four different kinds of meat, lost bread, and a huge fresh fruit salad, there were biscuits with a thick white gravy made from flour, sausage drippings, and bits of bulk sausage. Justin and Kyle chose that particular dish every time we ate at a breakfast bar that had it, and I knew they liked it. We had never had that before in that house in my memory, and I thought the very idea of it was disgusting.
       "Grandma, this is the best biscuit and gravy I've ever had," Kyle said enthusiastically.
       "Beth, I have to agree with Kyle," Rita said.
       "Me, too," Gene said.
       "I know it is, and I'm getting me another one," Jus said.
       "Come on," Kyle said, and he led the way to the buffet table.
       When they were seated, Justin asked, "Did y'all ever have red-eye gravy with ham and grits?"
       "Red-eye gravy is awesome," Kyle said. "I don't think it's as good as this biscuit gravy today, but it is good."
       "You're introducing a whole new cuisine to me," George said. "What is red-eye gravy?"
       "George, it's gravy made from ham drippings and coffee, but it has to be country ham, not the ham you buy in a deli," Rita said. "The story is Andrew Jackson asked his cook to prepare lunch. The cook had been drinking corn whiskey the night before, and his eyes were red. General Jackson told him to fix him some country ham with gravy as red as the cook's eyes. Others overheard this, and ham gravy became known as red-eye gravy from then on."
       "I wonder if that happened when Jackson was here for the Battle of New Orleans," my dad said.
       "It very well might have, Ed, but you know, Andrew Jackson came through north Florida; our county, in fact. Jackson County, which is just north of us, was named for him, and it was the second county established in Florida," Rita said. "Escambia, which is Pensacola, and St. Johns, which is St. Augustine, were the first two counties, both created at the same time. We always say red-eye gravy was invented in Jackson County."
       "Yes, he tended to get around, didn't he," Dad said.
       "My mother grew up in Jackson County, Rita," Rick said.
       "Oh, you don't mean it, Rick," Rita said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I do. My grandmother still lives there."
       "Oh, Rick, I had no idea! Do you boys see your grandmother," Rita asked.
       "No. She's not interested in us. Or in my mother, either, for that matter," he said. "But that's a long story, best left untold."
       "Well, it's definitely her loss," Mom said.
       Kyle and Justin had gotten up for their third biscuit and gravy, and Gene was working on his second one.
       "What's on tap for today," George asked. "I highly recommend the National D-Day Museum. I enjoyed every minute there Saturday. We spent four hours there on Saturday, and I could certainly go back."
       "George, today is Lundi Gras," Craig said. "There are festivals all over the place. That museum is going to be there forever, but Lundi Gras is only today. By the way, guys, 'Lundi' means Monday in French."
       "So what's going on," Jus asked.
       "Do you remember those museums we went to in Kenner? The one with the NASA weightless chamber," Craig asked. "The day we went to see the bonfires and the plantations?"
       "Yeah," Kyle said. "What's going on there?"
       "Kyle, do you remember when Rick told you he hoped you got hit in the head with a coconut?"
       "Yeah."
       "Well, that krewe, the Krewe of Zulu, organized the Lundi Gras festival about ten years ago. This was basically a dead day before that, with only one chicken-shit parade Monday night. Things have changed a lot in ten years, though. Now we have the Lundi Gras festival all day today and a super krewe parade tonight. The festival in Kenner starts in about an hour. King Zulu gets there at noon. They have toasts and all of that, and then they have sort of mini-parades with a second line," Craig said.
       "A second line? What is that?"
       "Kyle, this is a little complicated, so pay close attention, okay," Craig said.
       "Okay."
       "Let's say there is a big crowd for a concert, okay? Like there will be today. Well, the band doesn't stay on the stage. It gets out among the audience and marches around. The people from the audience get up and form the second line. If they have umbrellas, they dance with those open behind the band, and that's the second line. If they don't have umbrellas, they use handkerchiefs or paper napkins or Kleenex or anything like that to wave while they're dancing behind the band. You guys like to dance, and that's basically what it is. A dance, but it's not with couples. It's just individual people celebrating the music and the good time they're having."
       "What's the first line," Kyle asked.
       "It's the band, dummy," Justin said.
       "Oh. Let's go there," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but there are two other places we can go and still make it to the parade tonight," Cherie said. "One is Woldenberg Park on the river, between the aquarium and the French Market."
       "I remember that. We were there at Christmas," Kyle said.
       "Exactly. A Coast Guard ship is going to pick up King and Queen Zulu in Kenner and haul them down river to Woldenberg Park. There's going to be a festival going on there, too. It will be much bigger than the one in Kenner. There will be at least 150,000 people at the one in Woldenberg. And it's really all over the place down there, not just in the park. There will be several stages with live music, arts and craft booths, a bunch of food vendors, and an incredible array of people to watch."
       "This is sounding better and better. What's the third one," Kyle asked.
       "The third one is at Spanish Plaza at the Rivergate. That's just a few blocks down from Woldenberg Park. There's no festival there, but that's where Rex will land around six o'clock. His arrival will have lots of music, too, and it will be followed by a great fireworks display over the river. Do you remember that fireboat we saw at Christmas?"
       "I certainly remember it," George said. "That was the first time I had seen one of those."
       "Well, there will be a dozen of those, at least, all lit up" she said, "and they'll all be shooting water. It's a sight to see."
       "Then, after the fireworks, it's the parade. It's the Krewe of Orpheus, and it's the third and final super krewe," Cherie said. "My brother is a member of that krewe. He's on our side of the street, and just be prepared, dudes. You haven't seen anything yet when he sees us and starts throwing."
       * * *
       Kyle called Seth, and we picked him up. Tim and Brian both sat on their boyfriends' laps so we would have room for Seth. He was so cheerful and happy that morning that it was refreshing to be with him. He had Mardi Gras baseball caps for Kyle, Justin, and Craig. They were obviously very special guys to him, and our guys loved the caps. Most of them wore baseball caps all the time anyway, and I hoped Kyle would replace that frayed and beaten up University of Florida cap he wore constantly with this new one. I had bought him an FSU cap, but he wouldn't put it on. He had washed that Florida cap several times in our dishwasher on one of those cap molds, and each time it had come out clean but a little the worse for wear. He had lots of other caps, of course, including the one from the Fair Grounds he had been wearing in New Orleans. I think he wore the University of Florida one just to get our goats.
       We did all the things that day that we had talked about doing at breakfast. We had a wonderful time, but we were tired as hell when the day was over. Seth's parents were at the building on St. Charles that night, so he went home with them after the parade.
       "Can we get coffee and doughnuts tonight," Kyle asked. He was still very energetic.
       "Yeah, but let's go to Morning Call in Fat City," Craig suggested. "It's easier."
       It was much easier to get to than Cafe du Monde, and it was actually the original coffee and beignet place. It had moved to Fat City in Metairie years before, but it seemed even more authentic than the place across the street from Jackson Square. There were huge mirrors all over the place in wood arches surrounded by bare light bulbs, and they had enormous sugar bowls chained to one another on the marble counters where people sat to eat. They didn't put powdered sugar on the beignets in the kitchen like they did at Cafe du Monde. The powdered sugar was in metal shakers on the tables, and you had to apply it yourself, with the powdered sugar going everywhere when you shook it out. The place was packed when we got there, but they seated us fairly quickly.
       "I am so excited about tomorrow I can hardly stand it," Kyle said.
       "I know you are, and it's fun that you are, son," Gene said.
       "I don't want to get on anybody's nerves, though, so let me know, okay?"
       "You're not. You're fun to be with, and Mama and I appreciate that."
       "Thanks, Dad. Don't you wish Clay was here?"
       "Kyle, baby, you know we do."
       "I miss him so bad, Daddy. I miss him every day. I think I've cried every day since he died."
       "I know you do, Kyle, but you don't have any idea how much you have helped your mother and me and Jeff," Gene said.
       "I'm glad, but I miss my brother so much."
       "Kyle, he's here for you, too. You made peace happen for the rest of us, but we never really thought about you, did we? Clay's here for you, though, Bubba. He's here for you in your boat, and he's here for you in your friends. Love them, baby. I love you." Gene kissed Kyle on the forehead. Gene wasn't sobbing, but he was definitely crying.
       "I guess we all forget sometimes that Kyle needs support, too," my mother said to Rita. "He seems so . . I don't know . . . powerful or something. So together. You forget he's only seventeen." They were at the other end of a long table, and Kyle hadn't been able to hear them.
       "I know. Sometimes Gene and I worry that we aren't as strict with him as we should be, but he just doesn't seem to need a firm hand," Rita said. "And he's always been that way. I guess we're just blessed."
       "He's a blessing for all of us, all right," George piped in.

(Seth's Perspective, Sunday)
       I was standing outside my father's building on St. Charles Avenue Sunday morning dreading the day. I hadn't wanted to go to the parades, but I basically wasn't given a choice. "You'll go," my dad had said, and that was that.
       The reason I didn't want to be there was I knew that there were supposed to be five other boys around my age from Florida. They were related to Cherie Foley somehow. She was an associate in my father's law firm, and she had told him that there would be fourteen people in her party for the whole Mardi Gras thing, including those five boys. My dad had thought that would be exciting for me since I really didn't have very many friends to pal around with. My God! Talk about not getting it!
       I had figured out when I was thirteen that I was gay. It took me a while to admit it to myself, but I knew with all my heart that it was true. I hadn't acted on that fact yet, if I ever would, and I certainly hadn't told anyone. I mean, who would I have told? My parents? No way. My creepy little sister? Never. My best friend? I'd have to get one of those first before I could do that, and I was sure he'd dump me anyway, if I told him. I was a shy person by nature, but that little tidbit about myself turned me into something very close to a recluse. At school I kept to myself, using most of my lunch period and any free time I would have had for socializing to read. I didn't even talk to the people who sat around me before class started.
       As though my social life weren't handicap enough, I was ugly, and I knew it. I was painfully thin for my height. I was five feet, eleven inches tall, and I weighed in at a grand total of 110 pounds. A good, stiff wind would probably have blown me away. I had an enormous nose, a classically weak chin, and my ears stuck out way too far. I had been called Dumbo the Flying Elephant more than a few times in middle school, but, thankfully, that derisive nickname hadn't been applied in a few years. In the male equipment department I was a disaster. My penis was slightly larger than five-and-a-half inches when erect, which was fine, but it was almost invisible when it was flaccid. Since it was generally considered bad enough form to warrant a lynching to walk into a group shower or around a locker room with an erection, on those occasions when I had been forced by circumstances to present myself nude to other males, I had done so with the genitalia of a chipmunk.
       I wasn't picked on at school; I was simply ignored. I did reasonably well in my grades but not really well enough for that to give me any kind of status. I didn't participate in extra-curricular activities because that would have meant socializing with the others in the clubs, and I abhorred sports of any kind, so they were out of the question, too. The only friends I had, with the exception of one highly effeminate boy that everyone assumed was gay, were two girls who were both obese and rather mannish. We sat together at lunch before I snuck off to the library, and we must have made a fine sight--the outcasts of Poker Flat. We were brought together by a need that none of us was willing to discuss, and we never called each other on the phone at night or went anywhere together on weekends.
       The great irony in my life was that I was sexually attracted to boys but scared to death of them. I mean, I had virtually nothing in common with "guys." I wasn't offended by crude jokes or coarse language, but I could never bring myself to make those kinds of wisecracks or to use that kind of language. I was reasonably adept at using a computer, but who my age wasn't? I might occasionally have something to contribute to a conversation about computers, but that was rare. Thus it was that I dreaded spending what would amount to most of three days with five boys from Florida.
       I saw them walking up the street toward our spot. All but one of them were as tall as I was, and the shortest one, at about five feet, six inches--Brian turned out to be his name--was stunningly handsome. The other four, each of whom had at least fifty pounds on me, were merely gorgeous. There were two who had dark blond hair (Justin and Tim), two who had medium brown hair (Brian and Jeff), and the last one, Kyle, who had dark brown hair that looked black in the distance. They were walking up the street like they owned the place, and they were grinning and laughing among themselves, confident in their masculinity. One of them had a digital camera around his neck, and they were all wearing baseball caps with the Fair Grounds racetrack logo on them. Interacting with any one of them would have been torture for me, but in that pack it was going to be pure hell.
       Before I realized what was happening, the one with the camera was right in front of me.
       "Hey, dude. "My name is Kyle Goodson," he said.
       He stuck out his hand for me to shake. He had on cowboy boots, blue jeans, an off-white polo shirt, and a Levi jacket. His face was flawless and spectacular, and I could see the dark shadow of a full-face beard that some men have even after they had just shaved. I hadn't yet had the need to put a razor to my face, and that was yet another source of embarrassment to me. Kyle's smile seemed genuine enough, and his eyes seemed to sparkle. I was instantly smitten, although I knew it would only be a matter of moments before Kyle ignored me in favor of his friends.
       I shook his hand and tried not to do it weakly or limply. I commented on his camera and that it looked like a nice one. He insisted on taking a picture of me and my sister for his Web site. Then he introduced me to the others, and every one of them was as friendly as he had been. I was extremely nervous during all of that, but those boys all seemed to be the essence of self-confidence.
       Kyle said he would have been happy to show me his Web site if we had had a computer. I jumped at the chance and told him about all the computers in my dad's office. He and Tim went up there with me, and Kyle opened the site. The first page had a warning that subsequent pages contained nudity, and I assumed I'd be feted with pictures of naked women with enormous breasts that I was sure Kyle and his gang drooled over as they masturbated. Surprisingly, though, all of the pictures were of people with clothes on, and they were all engaged in very normal-looking activities. There were pictures from trips, including some from a ski trip that Kyle said they had gone on to celebrate their brother's passing the GED, and there were pictures from what looked like a dinner party. Most of the pictures were of boys and young men, and in a few the men seemed to be dancing some kind of line dance.
       Kyle and Tim both seemed totally at ease, and both of them, but especially Kyle, seemed quite excited about the pictures they were showing me. Tim didn't have an accent and spoke generic American English. Kyle's accent wasn't true Southern, like people from Mississippi and Alabama, but he pronounced some words a little differently. He said "feel" as though it were spelled "fill," and he referred to the "Guff of Mexico," instead of the Gulf. He also used the expression "fixing to," which I had heard before but had never used myself. They laughed and giggled over some of the pictures, and they each told amusing stories about what was depicted on the screen. I had spent a lot of time looking at personal Web pages that ranged from the sleek and attractive to the god-awful and confusing. Their page was definitely in the former group.
       I asked about one page that was a memorial to somebody named Clay. Kyle told me Clay was his brother and that he had died a few months before. That was the only page, other than the one about a trip to the zoo, that had video on it. The zoo page had a few clips of monkeys, but the Clay page had several clips that mostly featured him. In one clip he and Kyle were water skiing, and they were naked. I became aroused almost instantly, but I was sitting in such a way that they couldn't see it, thank God. I was reasonably sure they weren't the type to check out my crotch anyway, but being seated helped quell my embarrassment. As befitted the golden boy Kyle was shaping into, his equipment was substantial. Enormous, even, compared to mine.
       After we looked at the Web page, Tim wanted to look at some pictures Kyle had taken the day before. He put in a couple of disks that had street and parade pictures, but those weren't the ones Tim had in mind. Finally Kyle found the ones Tim wanted. They were of men and boys on Bourbon Street at night showing their penises. I had seen tons of pictures like that on Web pages, but I pretended I had never encountered them before. I didn't want them knowing I haunted gay sites on the Internet, and I assumed they didn't know they even existed.
       By the time we were ready to go outside for the parade, I was thoroughly infatuated with Kyle. I knew there was no hope of reciprocity, and, indeed, I would have probably been too nervous and scared to do anything with him even if he had wanted to. It just felt good to be in his presence, and the fact that he seemed to respect me and like me, even, was almost more than I could stand. Fortunately, the khaki pants I had on were loose enough that my still-throbbing erection wasn't conspicuous when we stood up to leave.
       It was noticeably warmer when we got back on the street, and the first thing Kyle did was take off his jacket and dump it on a lawn chair they had brought with them. The others were already without their jackets, and Tim took his off, too. I participated halfheartedly in going after throws, but Kyle, Tim, and the others jumped after them like they were things of real value. There were grins everywhere and a lot of laughter. More than once I heard "shit," and even "fuck," from one or other of them when they missed a throw. The adults who were with them either didn't hear them say those words or chose to ignore them under the circumstances.
       I had been to Carnival parades all my life, so I wasn't especially excited about what was going on. It was the first time for those boys, though, and they got into the spirit of things with gusto. After thirty minutes or so of jumping round, Kyle took his shirt off. I'm sure I gasped. Then Tim and the others did the same thing, and I almost had an orgasm.
       Kyle and Tim had tiny gold loops through each nipple, and their shoulders and chests were broad and well developed. Kyle had a patch of dark hair in the center of his chest, and it spread out a little to his pectoral muscles on both sides. There was a dark, straight line of hair down his stomach to his navel, and it continued below his navel into his jeans. The hair was a nice touch. Very sexy.
       Justin was the most muscled and the best defined of the five of them, but they all had bodies to be proud of. I know I stared shamelessly at them. A couple of times Justin caught me gawking at him, and he just smiled. I couldn't tell whether it was a knowing smile or not, but he didn't seem upset that I was looking at him.
       I enjoyed the sight of those boys. At one point I was so distracted that a pair of beads hit me in the chest, and I still didn't get them. Not that I wanted them, but at least I could have given them to Kyle. He seemed to want every bead on every float. At one point he hoisted Tim onto his shoulders. God, how I envied Tim. Of course, if that had been me instead of Tim, my erection would probably have pierced Kyle's brain stem and killed him. As it was, my underwear was a sodden mess with what I had been leaking so copiously for the last several hours, and I was too afraid to even look to see if I had a wet spot showing through my khakis. Kyle had both hands on Tim's thighs to keep him steady on his shoulders, and Tim had his crotch firmly wedged against Kyle's neck. They all made jokes and wisecracks, and Justin began emerging as the real comedian of the group. They were very kind and included me in their joking, but I was in such a trance that I kept missing jokes they all found hilarious.
       Why can't I be a normal boy like they are? Why do I have to be a fag, I thought for the millionth time in my life. I hated being gay. I hated being set apart from everybody else. I had read extensive commentary on the Internet about young gay men like me who shared my feelings about their sexuality. In most cases, though, things seem to work out for them. Mister Right comes along, they come out to family and friends, and they move forward happy and confident and successful in life. At least I wasn't a swish, like my friend Leslie. Of course, I didn't know for sure that Leslie was gay, and I certainly wasn't about to bring it up to find out. And who in their right mind would name a boy Leslie, anyway? I sometimes wondered if he'd be the way he was if his name were something like Mark or Bill.
       When the last afternoon parade was over, Kyle put his arm around Tim for them to go inside. It was a gesture of camaraderie and friendship, I knew, and they could get away with doing that without so much as a raised eyebrow. That was what I craved. I craved the kind of self-confidence that would enable me to embrace a male friend in public like that, assuming I'd ever have a friend. The fact that neither boy had a shirt on apparently didn't matter to either of them. Tim wiggled away from Kyle to put his shirt on before entering the building, and the rest of them re-shirted as well.
       There was a four-hour wait until the next parade. They all went into Cherie Foley's office, and I joined my parents, my sister, my two aunts who were with us, and my grandmother in my father's office. He was a senior partner of the firm, so his office was larger and nicer than the one the fourteen members of what I was mentally calling "The Krewe of Kyle" had. The ladies in our party took turns using the private restroom my dad had in his suite. I went last, and I took a book to make everyone think I had serious bathroom business to attend to. I didn't, though. I wanted to masturbate, I needed to masturbate, and I knew the book would buy me more time than a quick pee would have.
       I dropped my pants and underwear in one quick move the instant I locked the door. I got down on one knee in front of the toilet in a kind of mock genuflection. The head of my penis was covered with pre-seminal fluid, and there was enough to actually act as a lubricant. I gently rubbed the head of my penis with my finger, and then I took hold of it, using my fingertips on the most sensitive part directly below the head on the underside. There was no wild pounding, no frantic jerking. I was already so close that a few small strokes did the trick. I convulsed in pleasure, Kyle's face and chest before my mind's eye, and I spewed my semen into the toilet. I was quite literally weak from my orgasm, and I stayed in place for my tumescence to subside. It didn't, though, so I started working myself a second time. I had done that occasionally in the past when I was aroused more than usual, and that time, with my mental picture of Kyle, I brought myself off again in no more than a minute. Only then did I urinate to flush the remaining semen out of me.
       I looked around very carefully to make sure that all of it had gone into the water in the toilet and that there were no stray globs anywhere to give me away. I then flushed and washed my sticky penis in the sink. I used toilet paper to dry my underwear as best I could, and then, as a safety precaution, I folded up more toilet paper and put it inside my briefs to catch what I was sure would be another flood of the stuff before the day was through. When I went into the office, everyone was quiet. My sister was lying on the floor, as were my two aunts. My grandmother and mother were each lying on sofas, and my dad had his desk chair cranked all the way back for a nap. I lay down to rest on the floor. There was a throw pillow on the floor next to one of the sofas, so I used that for my head. In a few minutes, I was dozing.
       I slept for about an hour, and I felt quite rested when I woke up. I lay there day dreaming about Kyle. Does he have a girlfriend? There wasn't much chance he couldn't get a girlfriend if he wanted one, that was for sure, I thought. Were they sexually active? There was no doubt in my mind they were. I knew what he looked like naked because I had seen the video of him and his brother. I wondered what he looked like naked and aroused, feeding his enormous penis into some girl's vagina, thrusting his hips, making her moan with pleasure as he pumped himself into her, again and again and again. And then, when they were through, what did he look like lying beside her, his legs rampant, his softening organ flipped over to one side? That was the vision I liked best. In that one she is toying with the gold ring in his nipple, and he's smiling at the pleasure she is giving him. After a few moments of that, his penis starts to harden again. She asks him for another tryst, another stupendous orgasm. He teases her like he's not interested, but his penis tells the real story.
       "Seth, are you awake?"
       "Yes, Dad," I said, sitting up fully aroused from my reverie.
       "How did you like those guys from Florida? Cherie's friends?"
       "I liked them. They're really friendly, and they all have a great sense of humor," I said. And, of course, I'm in love with Kyle. I could never say that, obviously, but it had just occurred to me that I was.
       "Did you have enough time to talk to them to find out what they're interested in," he asked.
       "Kyle showed me a Web page that he works on."
       "Is Kyle the real cute one," my sister asked.
       "Yeah," I blurted out without thinking.
       "Oh, so you think he's cute," she asked in her annoying way to mock me.
       "Cut it out," I said.
       "Daddy, Seth thinks Kyle's cute," Amy said.
       "He is cute, sweetie. I think they're all cute."
       Thank God, and thank you, Dad, I thought. I mentally stuck my tongue out at her, the little bitch.
       "I'm not sure I approve of the piercings he and the other one have, but they seemed like they are extremely polite and very friendly, as you said, Seth."
       "Those are all the rage," my aunt said. "They're a sort of status symbol, and, unlike tattoos, you can take them off."
       "Good point about them not being permanent. But why their nipples," Dad asked.
       "I know that in women it makes the nipples hypersensitive," she said.
       My dad blushed ever so slightly.
       "You don't suppose . . ."
       "A lot of guys their age are sexually active," she said.
       "Well, it's probably time to change the subject. At any rate, they seem like very nice young men, and I encourage both of you to become their friends," he said.
       "Would it be okay if I went outside to walk around a little," I asked.
       "Sure. Why don't you take your sister for a little stroll," Dad said.
       Oh, God! I thought.
       "Not me. I want to finish my homework," Amy said. "Dad, can I use the phone."
       "I thought you wanted to finish your homework," he said, teasing her.
       "I do. I need to call Jennifer about it, though," she said.
       Jennifer was her bosom friend, and I knew she wanted to gossip about the Florida boys. I didn't say anything, though. Instead, I left the office.
       Because my dad was a senior partner, he had a suite of offices, which basically meant a room for him and a room for his secretary. There was also a small storage room and, of course, my masturbatorium. Junior associates, like Cherie Foley, shared a secretary with another lawyer, and all of the secretaries for the associates were at desks that were all together in a large room that the lawyers' private offices opened into. I walked down to where Cherie's office was, and there were several people from their party out there.
       "Hi, Seth," Cherie said. She was an extremely nice and friendly lady, and she and I had talked once or twice before at social gatherings. It hadn't been anything personal, of course, but I could tell that she was very pleasant and extremely bright. My dad had said so, in fact.
       "Hi, Cherie. Where is everybody," I asked.
       "Stick you head inside and see," she said.
       Cherie's mother-in-law was lying on one of her sofas, apparently asleep, and Kyle's mother was asleep on the other sofa. Kyle, Tim, Brian, and Justin were asleep on the floor. Kyle was in a little fetal knot on his left side, and Tim was in that same position facing the other direction, right next to him. I wanted to get down there and wrap myself around Kyle and hold him forever.
       "Did you get a nap," she asked me.
       "Yeah, I slept for about an hour. I just wanted to see if any of them wanted to go for a walk with me to see what's going on out on the street," I said.
       "Jeff might. He's awake."
       It was then that I noticed Jeff. He was at the computer at a desk a few desks down from where Cherie and I were talking. I hadn't had a chance to compliment him on his Web site, so I walked over to him.
       "Hi, Seth," he said as I walked up.
       "Hi. Kyle showed me your Web page, and it really looks good. I've been to a million personal sites, and yours is among the best I've seen."
       "Thanks, man. It's sort of a labor of love for us. Would you like me to sign you up as a user? Kyle or I update it pretty often. He takes some pretty great pictures, and a lot of them, so there's something new almost every week. Not that it's been up all that long, though."
       "Yeah, unless it's a lot of trouble," I said.
       "It's no trouble at all. I'll do it right now. I just put a ton of Mardi Gras pictures up, so I can add your name to the database before I shut down my FTP," he said. "What's your last name?"
       "Adams," I said.
       He typed something and clicked on something.
       "There. It's done. To get in, type 'seth dot adams,' all lower case. We'd appreciate it if you didn't spread that around, too," he said.
       "Why is it protected at all," I asked.
       "Well, there are often pictures of us nude on it, and Kevin and Rick thought we should just reserve it for family and friends. Not that there's ever any sex. Justin took some pictures of Kyle shooting pool with a hard-on, and we just deleted them."
       "Was it that noticeable," I asked. Because if an erection disqualifies a picture from that Web site, you won't be able to use a single one of me, I thought.
       "Well, Kyle was naked. They were playing strip pool, and Kyle had lost his clothes. As Jus put it, Kyle had grown his own cue stick. I wasn't there, but they all swear that it was just one of those spontaneous ones that you get sometimes. He hadn't done anything to cause it," Jeff said.
       I couldn't believe I was sitting there talking about erections with one of the Florida boys, and one of the cuter ones, at that.
       "Why don't you log in and check out the new stuff. Your picture with your sister is up, and there are a few more of you, too," he said.
       I was relieved to hear that he hadn't noticed the erection I had worn all afternoon.
       "You can sit here, if you want to. I've got some reading to do. I had to miss classes for this trip, and I don't want to get hopelessly behind," he said.
       Jeff got up to give me his place. He had closed out the browser, so I opened it.
       "I forgot to ask the URL," I said to Jeff.
       He told me, and I typed it in. I typed my user name in, and the page opened for me. I followed the link to the Mardi Gras pictures. There were ten pages of them, and it was only Sunday. At the rate they were going, they would need a whole server to accommodate their site.
       It was obvious that Kyle believed in documenting every aspect of a trip, including their stop at a fast-food drive-thru on the way over. Most of the pictures were of the parades they had seen on Saturday and today. There was a great shot of Tim on Kyle's shoulders that had been taken Saturday. Tim was holding on to Kyle by his hair, and Kyle was making a face like he was in pain. The pictures of me were hideous, of course. One showed me apparently trying to make a catch with my right hand, and my left hand was on Justin's bare back. I didn't remember that happening, but obviously it must have.
       I took a chance and opened one of the links that had a nudity warning beside it. It was a full page of thumbnails of men showing their equipment on Bourbon Street. There were some there that I knew I'd want to study in the privacy of my bedroom at home, including one of Justin pulling Kyle's penis. Kyle was screaming, apparently, and Justin had an evil look on his face. Cherie's husband was next to them showing his goods and laughing. There was nothing sexual about it, and I had certainly seen boys pull other boys' penises in fun. The difference was that Kyle was the most sensual boy I had ever seen, and Justin was a close second. I had been aroused since Jeff had told me that Kyle "had grown his own cue stick," but the one of Justin touching him almost brought me over the brink. I decided I couldn't risk a spontaneous ejaculation, so I shut the site down.
       In a little while, Kyle and Tim came out of Cherie's office headed for the men's room. Tim told me hello and said they'd be back in a second. I had to urinate, too, so I followed them. There were three urinals in there without partitions between them. Tim was at the one on the far left, and Kyle was in the middle, sort of angled toward Tim, apparently taking out his equipment. I took the urinal on the right and got out my semi-erect penis.
       "Hey, Seth," Kyle said, startling me. By then he was facing forward. I didn't look directly at him, of course, even though he was looking directly at me, but I saw it out of the corner of my eye. He was erect! He made some kind of off-hand comment about having to pee really badly and his equipment not working right, or something. I heard his stream start, and my semi-erection turned into the full thing at the speed of light. I was sure he had seen my state. I hadn't yet started to pee, but I put everything away and got out of there as fast as I could. To adequately describe my shame and embarrassment would require a whole new vocabulary. I wanted to leave, but they came out before I could figure out where to go.
       "You must have been sleeping, too," Kyle said. "I get 'em if I take even a ten minute nap. In fact, I think just laying down gives 'em to me."
       "Yeah, me, too," Tim said. "Don't be embarrassed, Seth. It was just a hard-on. No shame in that, dude."
       "I, er . . . I mean, I'm, er . . "
       "Hey, Seth, buddy. Lighten up, man. You saw mine, and I saw yours. It's not a big deal. You're our friend, and we like you. Don't get all shamed and embarrassed over what happened, man. It was no big deal," Kyle said.
       You saw mine, and I saw heaven, I thought.
       "Kyle's is never a big deal," Tim said, joking.
       "Yeah? I'll . . ."
       "Got you last," Tim said, and Kyle laughed.
       "Let's find something to eat," Kyle said.
       I followed them into the office, said hello to everybody in there, and followed their lead in getting food.
       "Will you party with us after the parade," Kyle asked me.
       "I'd like to, if you don't mind," I said.
       "If we don't mind?" he said. "You're our friend, and we like you. Why the fuck would we mind?"
       "KYLE ADAM GOODSON!"
       "Sorry, Mom. It slipped out," he said. Then, in a whisper to me, "I don't usually say 'fuck' around my mother."
       Kyle had no idea of the effect he was having on me. I was their friend, and they liked me! Suddenly my existence had purpose. I knew I could never have him, but for him to say I was his friend and that he liked me gave me a whole new perspective on life. I mattered! I had value to someone like him! He wanted me to party with them! I wanted to move to Florida to be in Kyle's presence forever.

Chapter 14

(Kevin's Perspective)
       We had a really good day on Monday. The Lundi Gras Festival in Woldenberg Park was a lot of fun, the fireworks over the river were great, and the parade of the Krewe of Orpheus was beautiful. We were all too tired to go into the Quarter that night. We had been down there three times already, and, frankly, the crowd was just a little much to contend with after a full day of merry-making.
       Everybody was up early Tuesday morning. My dad went to a bakery to buy doughnuts and other goodies for us to take that day. If there was traditional food besides King Cake associated with Mardi Gras in my mind, it would have to be glazed doughnuts and fried chicken. When we had discussed the matter in the past, we had concluded that doughnuts and fried chicken were both well suited to Mardi Gras because both could be eaten standing up, and you could hold either food in just one hand and still have the other hand free to catch beads and other throws.
       We got to the parade route around seven o'clock on Tuesday morning, and we staked our claim to the section of sidewalk we would occupy all day. We weren't the first ones out there, and already advance-men from several other families had set up near us. The kids had palled up with Seth Adams, and we had more or less joined our forces with their family. Cherie worked with Matt Adams, of course, and she had been together on several cases. Seth was a homely kid, but he was very nice and obviously very intelligent. He seemed to be under Kyle's spell.
       By eight o'clock, the street had begun to fill up. The people a few groups down from us, who weren't part of our crowd, had a huge set of speakers and an amplifier. They started playing Mardi Gras music, and that added a lot to the festive air of the place. A few businesses in the area had some Mardi Gras decorations up, but the festive nature of the holiday was in the music and the parades. Later in the day that same group started playing the music to "The Chicken Dance" about every third tune, and that really got old.
       "I'm going over there and choke the chicken," Kyle said. "And I don't mean what y'all think that means."
       The men standing around talking to him were Rick, George, my Dad, Gene, Matt Adams, and me. We all convulsed in laughter at what he had said.
       "I think we might be dealing with an experienced chicken-choker," Rick said.
       "I have no doubt about that," Gene said.
       He made us laugh, too.
       First thing that morning, though, I had said, "Guys, come over here. I want to talk to you."
       They all came over to where Rick and I were standing.
       "There is going to be a really big crowd on the street today. Where does everybody have their money?"
       Most of them said in their wallets in their back pockets .
       "Well, put it in your side pockets. The back pockets of jeans are too easy for a pickpocket to slide a wallet out of," I said.
       "My wallet won't fit in my side pocket," Kyle said. "My jeans are too tight."
       "That's cause you got that big ole fire hose packed in there," Justin said.
       Everybody laughed, but Seth positively howled. He seemed really excited and happy that morning. We had had a great day with him the day before, and we all like him a lot.
       "Take your money, your credit cards, and your driver's license out of your wallet, Kyle, and put those in your pocket. Then ask your mother if you can put your wallet in her purse," I said.
       Kyle did as I suggested. He took Tim's, Brian's, and Jeff's wallets over to Rita, too.
       "Kyle, come on back here so Kevin can finish wiping your nose," Jus called out to him.
       Kyle shot him a bird, and we all laughed. He trotted back.
       "Okay, here's the lineup for today," I said. "The first parade will be Zulu, and it should get here around 9:30. It used to be an all-black krewe, but it's not all black anymore. It will probably have a theme related to Africa, though, and there is still a very large African American look and feel to that one. It's a great parade. The next one will be Rex. He ought to pull through here around one o'clock, maybe a little earlier. Immediately after Rex, with no interruption, will be the Elks Krewe of Orleanians. We call that parade and the next one, the Krewe of Crescent City, the truck parades."
       "We should have come in my pick-up," Justin said.
       "Is that the kind of trucks in that parade," Tim asked.
       "You're thinking about our Christmas parade, aren't you," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah."
       "No, they're not pick-up trucks, Tim. They're huge flatbed trucks that can hold fifty people or more. People in families, neighborhoods, businesses, social clubs, and so on, get together and ride a truck on Carnival Day. The first ones in the parade will look just like the floats you've already seen, but the ones later on will have homemade decorations that were done by the people who ride them. There will probably be three or four hundred trucks. It's a really neat tradition," I said.
       "Can anybody be in it," Kyle asked.
       "Why? You want to be on one, don't you?"
       "Damn, Kev. I'd give my left nut and Tim's foreskin if I could be on one."
       "Hey," Tim said slapping at Kyle, and we laughed.
       "Maybe we can talk about us re-joining a krewe back home. All of us," I said.
       "Yeah, I thought you all rode last year. Why did you quit," Kyle asked.
       "Two new jobs and five new kids, that's why," Rick said. "No time."
       "Anyway, don't expect to catch much from Zulu and Rex, but you can probably expect quite a haul from the trucks," I said. "Oh, and nobody touch those quarts of beer that are in one of our coolers. I've got special plans for those."
       "What are you going to do with 'em? Open a stand," Jus asked.
       "No, I'm going to trade 'em for beads with guys on the trucks. You wait and see what I get for 'em," I said.
       "Oh, cool," Seth said.
       Kyle put his hand on Seth's shoulder.
       "You never thought of that, did you, buddy," he asked.
       "No, but it's a great idea," Seth said. "Some of those guys will probably give you their costumes for that much beer."
       "Kyle would, as much as he loves to get naked," Jus said.
       Kyle started to say a come-back line, but he stopped. We all knew Justin was right on the mark.
       "He busted you a good one that time, didn't he," Rick asked.
       "If y'all are trying to piss me off, forget it. I'm in too good a mood," Kyle said.
       "Now, would I ever try to piss you off, Bubba," Justin asked with fake innocence.
       "I think you pissed him off Sunday night," Seth said.
       Justin laughed. "Yeah, how about that? 'Why don't you jump up on the fucking table and scream it out for everybody to hear?'" He said that last part in a pretty good imitation of an angry Kyle, and everybody was roaring with laughter.
       "Shit," Kyle said through his laughter.
       "You guys can walk around. Just be back for Zulu," I said.
       "Or not," Rick said.
       "Yeah, or not. Have fun, and be safe, you hear. I don't want any of my babies stolen by the Gypsies," I said.
       "Are there Gypsies here," Brian asked.
       "There's probably some of everybody here, Bri, but I just said that as a joke," I said. "My grandmother used to say that every year at Mardi Gras."
       That concluded our pre-parade conference. They took off walking up St. Charles Avenue toward Lee's Circle.
       * * *
       "I don't know what they've done to or for my son, Kevin, but whatever it is, thank God for it," Matt Adams said to me after the kids had taken off.
       "He seems like he's in a real good mood. He's a nice kid," I replied.
       "Thanks, but he's not without his problems. He spends most of his time in his room, alone, and when he's with the rest of the family, he never talks."
       "Well, he was participating in the general fun back there a minute ago. He seemed to really have fun with us yesterday, too," I said. "In fact, he made some pretty funny wisecracks."
       "Oh, I know he had fun. He couldn't shut up when he got home last night. This from a kid who never says anything to the rest of us," Matt said. "That's why whatever has happened is so wonderful."
       "Well, he's in the hands of the Wonderworker. That's what Justin calls Kyle because he says he works wonders with people," I said.
       "Oh, it's Kyle. It's definitely Kyle. It's almost as though he has a crush on him," Matt said.
       I got a little uneasy. "How much do you know about us," I asked.
       "Not too much, but some. Cherie and I have talked a few times."
       "Would it bother you if he did have a crush on Kyle?"
       "Not in the least. I'd hate to see him get hurt, though. Kevin, Seth is gay, and Cathy and I are fine with that. I wouldn't want Kyle to use him. That's what I meant," Matt said.
       "May I step in here," Craig asked. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing some of what you just said."
       "We're talking about Seth. The big turn-around seemed to happen Sunday night when you took the boys to the strip show," I said.
       "Seth knows the boys are gay," Craig said. "That all came out at the strip show. He also knows that Kyle and Justin are both taken, and I tried to help him understand that they're really in love with their boyfriends."
       "Kyle and Tim, and Justin and Brian, right," Matt asked.
       "Is it that obvious," I asked.
       "Cherie had told me they were all gay and that they had boyfriends," Matt said, "so I watched carefully. It would never have been obvious to me if I hadn't known what to look for. They're some amazingly good looking kids, too."
       "Yeah, they are," Craig said.
       "Poor Seth didn't get the handsome genes, if any exist in our family. I'm sure that contributes to his low self-esteem, too," Matt said.
       "Have you talked with Seth about being gay," I asked.
       "Not yet, but we plan to very soon. Cathy and I talked about that last night. He's never brought it up, and, frankly, I didn't know how to bring it up. Now I have an opening, though," he said.
       "Our boys," I asked.
       "Exactly. The Florida Boys, as he calls them. Once he even referred to them as the Krewe of Kyle. Kevin and Craig, thank you so much for what you've done for my son. I feel as though I have my boy back, and he's happy, gregarious, and excited about life again."
       "We haven't done anything. It's Kyle. Kyle and Justin," I said.
       "The Wonderworker Team?"
       "Now they are, but Kyle had to work his wonders on Justin first to get him to where he is. That's a long and rather unpleasant story, though," I said. "Don't call them the Wonderworkers, though. That's supposed to be a family secret."
       "Gotcha. I'm ready for a beer. Can I get you anything," Matt asked.
       "Oh, Matt. Er, don't be too shocked if you see Kyle and Justin drinking beers, and smoking cigarettes, too. They're not angels," I said.
       "Good for them," Matt said. "But, see, they really are, Kevin. You just have to look at my boy to know that."

(Seth's Perspective)
       When Justin, and then Kyle, told me they were gay on Sunday night, my first reaction was disbelief. How could they be gay? They weren't strange. They weren't weird. They weren't different. They had great bodies and appeared to be athletic. How could they be gay? Kyle had even gotten an erection when he had seen the two female strippers, and he had gotten angry when Justin touched him. Craig confirmed that they were, though, and that they were in love with their boyfriends. Nobody would let someone get away with saying that about them unless it was true.
       All of a sudden, sitting in that sleazy bar on Bourbon Street, I had a revelation. I was okay! It was okay to be gay! I wasn't necessarily strange, weird, or different. Craig was right when he said I wouldn't find a better group of guys, and I included him in that, too.
       If Sunday was the beginning of life for me, then Monday was my first full day of being alive. I wanted to do something for Kyle, Jus, and Craig, so I bought Mardi Gras caps for them at a convenience store in my neighborhood before they picked me up Monday morning. They already had caps, of course, and it was maybe a little tacky to get them something and not get anything for the others, but those were three very special people in my life. I had a great time on Monday, and it really wasn't so much because the stuff we did was all that much fun. It was because I was doing something with people I liked and wanted to be with for the first time in a very long time.
       And they liked me, too. They said they did, but I could also just tell. They teased me, joked with me, and treated me like I was one of them. It was easy to get into their spirit, too, and I made a few wisecracks that they thought were funny. One of the things I really liked was their being able to laugh at being gay. They teased each other all the time, and a lot of the time it was related to sex. Not in a nasty or vulgar way, though. It was just fun. On the way to the festival in Kenner, I was sitting in the middle seat between Kyle and Justin. They each had their boyfriends on their laps.
       "Did you say anything about what I told you last night," I asked.
       "No. Why would we," Kyle asked.
       "I want everybody here to know," I said.
       "Do you want me to tell 'em," he asked.
       "No, I'll do it. Everybody, you all don't really know me, but there is something I want to tell you."
       Everybody got quiet, and Rick turned the volume down on the CD that was playing.
       "I want everybody here to know that I'm gay," I said. "I fought it for a long time, but being with you all yesterday made me not ashamed of it anymore. That was a great gift, and thank you for it."
       I don't know what I expected at that moment.
       Kyle spoke up. "Come on, guys. We've got a new brother, and he gives great . . . baseball cap. Let's hear it for him."
       They laughed at what Kyle had said, and they cheered for me. They actually cheered for me. Nobody had ever done anything even remotely like that for me before. I started crying tears of joy for the first time in my life.
       "We've got some happy tears here," Justin said. "Damn, if this ain't an ice cream moment, I don't know what is. And here we are in the middle of the damn Interstate."
       I didn't understand what he meant, but Kevin, Rick, and the boys screamed with laughter.
       "All right. We demand an explanation," Cherie said.
       Kevin was still laughing, but he explained it.
       "Cherie, in our family, whenever something really good happens, often the resolution of some crisis or conflict, but at other times, too, we have huge platters of ice cream to celebrate. And Justin is right; this is definitely an ice cream moment."
       "So why ain't the blinker on," Jus asked.
       That guy was so cool. He said the funniest things in the most deadpan way. He said he was from Alabama, and he had a really nice accent. I think that was part of why he was so funny.
       "Do y'all really want to stop for ice cream," Kevin asked.
       "Hell, yes, we want to stop," Kyle said. "I'm so famished I'm lightheaded."
       "My God, son. You ate enough breakfast for three people," Rick said.
       "Three of you maybe, but not even one of me," he said.
       Everybody laughed, and Kevin turned on the blinker so we could get off the Interstate.
       We actually found a Baskin-Robbins ice cream store in a shopping center right after we got off the highway. All six of us boys ordered banana splits, and the four adults ordered ice cream cones. That was some of the best ice cream I had ever eaten.
       Back on the road again, Jeff asked, "So who are you out to, Seth?"
       "Just the people in this car," I said. "I'd like to tell my parents, but I don't know if that would be a good idea or not."
       "Seth, I know your dad. There won't be a problem with him, sweetie," Cherie said. "Or with your mom, either."
       "He's the one I was worried about," I said.
       "Well, don't be," she said.
       Hearing her say that was like the last piece of the millstone that I had been dragging for so long falling away from me. I felt totally free, totally relaxed, and totally happy.
       "Not all parents react that well to the news, right, Jeff," Brian said.
       "That's for sure, Bri. You and I are proof of that," Jeff replied.
       "Can you guys tell what happened," I asked.
       "Our parents disowned us. Put us out of the house, Seth," Jeff said. "I had just turned eighteen. How old were you, Brian?"
       "Fourteen," Brian said.
       "Seth, I think Jeff's point is that you're the best judge of what and when to tell your parents," Kevin said. "Rick and I, and Kyle and Tim had it very easy. Witness the fact that Kyle's parents and Tim's dad are with us on this trip and are having a great time. They were here with us right before Christmas, too, and participated in the celebration of our first wedding anniversary. As you heard, Jeff and Brian weren't so lucky."
       "Kevin's right, Seth, but I think in your case there won't be a problem. If there is, you can come and live with Craig and me. Or, better yet, we'll ship your ass to Florida, and you can live with all of these guys," Cherie said.
       "Cherie, what you're saying is, if I win I win, and if I lose I win," I said.
       Everybody laughed, and that felt soooooo good.
       "If you come to live with us, you'll have to go through the initiation," Kyle said.
       "What's the initiation," I asked.
       "The finger," Kyle said, only he said it with a tone of mystery.
       "What's the finger," I asked.
       "The finger is . . ."
       Kevin cut him off. "Okay, Kyle, that's enough. Tell him later if he really wants to know, but not now." Kevin's tone of voice wasn't mean, but I could tell he was serious and meant business.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said.
       I was genuinely puzzled. I made a quizzical face to Justin.
       "He doesn't want us talking about S-E-X," Justin said.
       That made everybody laugh hard.
       "Seth, in our family, sex is private. Rick and I will answer honestly any question you or any of them have, but we don't have sex in public, and we don't talk in public about what we do in private. That rule never changes," Kevin said.
       "And the second rule," Rick said, "is we never do anything sexual 'unless both guys really want to do it.'" They all joined in on those last eight words, and they all laughed.
       "Just for clarification, would I be breaking the first rule if I said they don't seem hard," I said.
       I had intended that to be a pun, but I never expected the reaction it got. They screamed with laughter.
       "This dude's a keeper," Justin said. "Kyle, you're still on probation, you know, but he's off probation as of now."
       More laughter.
       "Yeah? I'll probate your ass," Kyle said, and again everybody laughed.
       "Is that what they did to Will," Craig asked.
       I didn't know what he was talking about, and nobody else did either because they didn't laugh.
       Cherie groaned. "Kevin, pull over and put him out." That made Craig laugh.
       "I don't get it," Kyle said.
       "Bubba, to probate a will is a legal term for filing it in court so it can be acted upon," Cherie said.
       Kyle chuckled a little bit. "See, that was lost on me because I didn't know 'probate' was a real word. I thought I just made it up from 'probation.'"
       "Me, too," Jus said.
       "Don't worry. Nobody in his right mind would have gotten that pun, which, I guess, doesn't really speak all that well of me," she said. That made people laugh.
       "Cherie, I noticed you just called Kyle Bubba. I know what that means, and I know it's a nickname, but you all seem to use it for everybody," I said. "I'm a little confused."
       "Tim, scoot up a little bit, would you, Babe. You've about crushed 'em," Kyle said.
       Tim started bouncing up and down on Kyle's lap, and everybody laughed.
       "Nooooooo! Stooooooop!"
       Tim turned around and gave Kyle a short kiss on his lips, and then he moved forward on his lap. I had never seen anything like that before between two boys, and I was surprised at how perfectly natural and normal it seemed. I didn't say anything, though.
       "So who's going to answer Seth's question," Kevin asked.
       "I will," Jeff said. "I was very confused by all of that, too, Seth, at first. Somebody correct me if I get this wrong. Kevin and Rick call each other Babe. Occasionally one of them will say Baby, but it's usually Babe. Kyle and Tim call each other that, too, as you just heard. Rick and Brian call each other Buddy. Am I right so far?"
       "You're doing good. Keep on," Justin said.
       "Kevin and Rick call Kyle, Tim, Justin, Brian, and me Buddy. They also call all of us Bubba, although it's almost always Buddy for me. Kyle, Tim, Justin, and Brian call everyone Bubba except their boyfriends, which I already explained."
       "Kyle and I call each other Stud, and Rick calls us Stud, too, Justin said.
       "What do you call them, Jeff," I asked.
       "Unlike the rest of them, I'm able to remember their actual names, so I use them," Jeff said.
       Everybody laughed hard.
       "That's bullshit, Bubba. Sometimes you call me Clay," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but not on purpose," Jeff said.
       "I know, but I love it when you do call me that," Kyle said.
       Everybody got real quiet after that. Finally, Justin broke the ice after several minutes.
       "Are we having a moment of silence for Clay, and, if so, for Big Clay or Little Clay?"
       That made everybody laugh, and Kyle and Justin bumped their fists together.
       "Oh, and Seth, this is Big Rick, and this is Little Rick. The one right next to you with his hand on your dick," Justin said.
       Kyle wasn't touching me at all, but his hand flew across in front of me and hit Justin on his arm.
       "Davis, when we get to where we're going? You. Me. On the levee. Your ass is mine," Kyle said.
       I got scared. I thought a fight was developing.
       "You keep making all those big promises, Goodson, but you've yet to deliver," Justin said.
       They all laughed.
       "Phew! I thought you guys were really doing to fight," I said.
       Justin said, "Naw, we're brothers . ."
       ". . . and best friends," Kyle finished.
       "Since when did that keep two guys from fighting," Craig said.
       Kevin laughed hard.
       "There must be a story here," Cherie said.
       "Not really. How long has it been, Kev," Craig asked.
       "I think you were fourteen and I was twelve," Kevin said.
       "Yeah, that's about right," Craig said.
       "You brute! You had the puberty advantage," Cherie said playfully to her husband.
       "No, he didn't, Cherie. I know. I used to see it every day," Kevin said.
       Everybody laughed hard.
       "Foley, when we get to where we're going? You. Me. On the levee, shithead," Craig said.
       "Are we going to fight," Kevin asked. I knew from his tone of voice that this was yet another joke.
       "Hell, no. We're going to watch Kyle and Justin beat the crap out of each other."
       We all laughed.
       That's the way it was all day with them. It was joke after joke after joke. I laughed more that day with them than I had laughed the previous four years put together. Nothing was sacred and nothing was off limits when it came to humor. It was obvious that they genuinely loved one another, and the verbal sparring was their way of expressing affection for each other. I felt totally accepted and totally at home with them, and I loved every minute of it.
       Later in the day, after we had gone downtown, I caught up with Kyle by himself.
       "Are you having fun, Bubba," he asked me.
       "Yeah, the best time. Thank you so much, Kyle."
       "You see that we really do like you, don't you?" He was grinning so nicely at me.
       "Yeah, and I feel so good I could float up into the sky," I said.
       "By the way, I love my cap. Thanks for getting it for me," he said.
       "You're welcome. Can I ask you something?"
       "Of course you can, but it's seven-and-a-quarter inches long and five-and-three-eighths inches around," he said.
       I laughed. "You never stop, do you?"
       "I know. I'm sorry, man. I'm on this big excitement high, and getting you with us is a big part of that. I'll behave."
       "I don't want you to behave. I'm having the best time of my life with you guys," I said.
       "Me, too," he said.
       Somehow I really didn't believe he could distinguish one good time from another, much less determine which one was the best. Kyle was the happiest, most joyous and carefree person I had ever known, and I envied Tim.
       "I'm thirsty. Are you? You want me to see if I can score us a couple of beers from that stand?"
       "Yeah," I said.
       He did it. He got them, and they didn't even ask for ID.
       "Let's go sit down and talk," he said.
       We settled under a nice tree.
       "What's on your mind, Bubba?"
       "Today in the car, you started to say something about an initiation, but Kevin cut you off. What was that about?"
       "I know. He cut me off and made me shut up. I was joking, and he should have known that," he said. "There's not really an initiation."
       "Yeah, but what were you going to say. He said for you to tell me later," I said.
       "You're a virgin, right?"
       "Yes." I sort of whispered it and hung my head a little.
       He took my "chin" in his hand and lifted my head. He was dead serious when I looked in his face.
       "There's no shame in that, Bubba. No shame at all. Say it."
       "Okay. No shame," I said.
       "How much do you know about gay sex?"
       "Well, I think I know the basics. I've done some reading and all," I said.
       "So you know about the prostate gland that guys have?"
       I nodded.
       "Have you ever touched yours? When you were jerking off?"
       I shook my head no. I had thought about doing it, but I had never had the nerve to try. I had never talked to anybody about masturbation, either, but talking to him about it wasn't embarrassing in the least.
       "It feels really good when somebody rubs it. That's the whole point of butt fucking, really, at least for the guy taking it. That's not quite all, but that's a big part of it. Anyway, Tim and I have showed a couple of guys what that was like on the prostate with our fingers. That's what I was talking about."
       "Are you guys promiscuous? I mean, like, three-somes and that sort of thing?"
       "Tim and I never do anything with another guy just by ourselves," he said. "Only when we're together."
       He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He offer the pack to me, but I declined.
       "Sometimes, with people we care about, we've done some things. Never sucking and fucking, though. That's just for us. Or heavy kissing. That's just for us, too. Some people might think we're promiscuous, but we don't think of it that way. We think of it as helping a friend out," he said.
       "I'm not sure I understand," I said.
       "Let's take somebody like a friend we have whose name is Chad. Chad was fourteen years old at the time. He was, and still is, a flaming drama queen, and he basically knew nothing about sex, gay or straight. We were on a camping trip with him, and the three of us were in the same tent. We were talking about sex, and Tim and I were trying to teach him. Well, you guessed it. We all got hard. Chad wanted to touch our dicks, so we said okay. He started stroking them, and, of course, Tim and I shot. Then he wanted us to do him, so we did. I don't remember all the details, but I put my finger up his butt and rubbed his prostate. That much I do remember. He came like a motherfucker. He later told us that that night was the beginning of his life."
       "Kyle, I'm scared to death of having a penis up my butt," I said.
       "It's not bad, really, if it's somebody you care for and he knows what he's doing. In fact, it's damn good. But a lot of gay guys never do that, man, and that's okay. There's so much else you can do to express your love physically besides butt fucking. Tim and I don't do that every time we make love, and neither do Kevin and Rick. And, please, don't ever let a guy do that to you unless you want it, okay? You heard Rick say that rule in the truck today. That's a rule we live by, man. And it's not just for butt sex. It could be . . . anything. If one guy wants it but the other one doesn't, it's rape if the one guy forces it on the other one. Sex is about expressing love. It's about making your partner feel good. It ain't about getting what you want, regardless."
       "You seem so much older than seventeen," I said.
       "I'm not, though. I just turned seventeen in November," he said.
       "Where are you going to college," I asked.
       "I don't know. Probably the community college at home for a year, until Tim graduates. He wants to be a doctor, and we've talked about coming here for him to go to Tulane. Then to Tulane medical school. Kevin's parents are both doctors, and they can help him."
       "They are? Really?"
       "His mom's a pediatrician and his dad's a heart surgeon," he said. "Tim's dad is an oral surgeon."
       "Wow! This is a really educated group of people."
       "I know. I'm the dumb one in the crowd. Me and Justin."
       "Kyle, do dumb people entertain car loads of friends? Do they make fourteen-year-olds begin their lives? Do they make seventeen-year-old nothings like me into somebodies?"
       "Who are you talking about, man? Jesus or somebody like that?"
       "No, Kyle. I'm talking about you, and Justin, too. Haven't you noticed the change in me?"
       "Yeah, and it's for the better, too," he said. "Who caused it? Justin?"
       "Yeah, but mostly you. Kyle, I'll never forget you. There aren't many like you, that's for sure."
       "Thank God. The world could be in serious trouble if there were more of me."
       "I don't agree," I said. "But you know what?"
       "What?"
       "My uncle is on the board of trustees of Tulane University. He just got appointed for a ten-year term."
       "Cool," he said.
       "I'm going there, and so are two friends of mine," I said. I knew he wasn't processing what I was saying.
       "I hope Tim gets accepted there. I'm probably going to go to the University of New Orleans," he said. "I looked them up on the Internet, and I think I could probably get accepted. They pretty much take everybody."
       "Kyle, you're not hearing me. Tim will get accepted at Tulane, and so will you."
       "That would be so good for Tim. Medical school, too?"
       "Yeah, if he's got the grades," I said.
       "Don't worry, he'll have the grades. You are so good, man," he said.
       I laughed. "No, you're so good," I said, and we got up to join the rest of the group.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       They said Tuesday was going to be the best, and it has been. We got up pretty damn early, but that didn't bother me. Tim was sluggish, though, so I had to jump-start him in the shower, if you know what I mean.
       We were on the street by seven o'clock this morning, and I was surprised by how many other people were already out there. You can't rent sidewalk space. You just have to get there early to get you a spot. And parking's a problem, too. It cost us fifty bucks to park in the exact same lot that had only cost twenty-five yesterday, but I guess you have to make hay while the sun shines.
       Speaking of sunshine, we had some beautiful days. It was a little nippy when we got there at seven o'clock this morning, and we were in the shadow of all those big buildings. I was glad I had my jacket, too. By noon we all had our shirts off, though. Tim's dad always freaks out if we do stuff like that in the winter, but if it's hot, it's hot. Off come the shirts.
       Tuesday is the costume day, and we saw some good ones. We saw two little boys, brothers, who were about three or four years old. One was a bee, and the other one was a flower. They were so cute. They reminded me of Kyle, Mathew, and Michael Broman, those little guys we got to play with in North Carolina. And some people didn't have much on, either. In the afternoon after the last float, we walked over to the French Quarter for the last time, and we saw people there in some skimpy outfits, for sure. Nobody we saw was butt naked, but some were mighty close to it. We saw a bunch of guys dressed up like women, but you could usually tell they were men and not women. A couple of 'em even had thick moustaches, which was pretty much a dead give away.
       One of the things I didn't know about was all the marching clubs. These are just groups of people, musicians mostly, who just march around playing music and having fun. Each group was dressed alike in the same uniform so you knew they belonged together, and some of them were even passing out doubloons with their club's name and logo on them. One was called the Half Fast Marching Club, which I thought was pretty funny. I told Kevin and Rick that's what they ought to name the FSU band to go along with their Semi-hole football team, but they didn't think that was all that funny. Craig did, though. One of those clubs called themselves the Krewe of Spermes. You were supposed to say it "Sper-meeze," like Latin or something. It was all guys from a fraternity dressed up like they were sperms, and one girl who was dressed up like she was an egg. The sperm guys tried to get the egg girl. That was kind of funny.
       A lot of the cops there were on horseback. That was something I had never seen before, and those horses were huge, too. Kevin said the police department there were experts at crowd control, and I believed it after seeing those horses. They weren't parading; they were working. When those horses came down the street, you got back, son. I saw them for the first time on Saturday. I was all excited and jumping around, and I didn't hear the first one coming. I was right in the way, too. Rick grabbed me by the hair of my head and pulled me back just in the nick of time. After that, I was on the lookout for those things because they could come at any time. Sometimes the cop blew his whistle, but most of the time you just had to hear the clip-clop to know one was coming.
       A lot of people with little kids had ladders with seats on the top for the kids to sit on. It was probably great for the little kids because then they could see what was going on and catch stuff, but people on the ground behind the ladders were shit out of luck. We didn't have any little kids in our group, so we didn't have any ladders in front of us. I hoisted Tim up on my shoulders a few times, but he's as big as me. Carrying 160 pounds of boy around for very long isn't all that easy, no matter how much you love him. One time, right after I had put Tim down, Justin said to me in that ole Alabama drawl of his, "You can mount me, if I can mount you." I thought that was funny, but our new friend, Seth, laughed so hard I thought he was going to piss his pants.
       Speaking of Seth, he turned out to be a really nice guy. I knew he was shy and unpopular when I first laid eyes on him Sunday morning, and that's just the kind I want to go after and make have fun. That boy came out to us for the first time to anybody Sunday night, right after damn Justin was feeling me up in the strip club. Seth cried, of course, like I guess everybody has to do when they come out for the first time, but he got all right. He's not cute looking, but he's cute acting. Plus, he's just so nice. I've got me a new friend for life, I think. My motto is, If you're going to go to the trouble of making a friend, you might as well make that friend for life. We're going to keep up with each other through e-mail, and I'm hoping he can come and stay with us a while during the summer.
       Another subject I want to deal with is drinking. Mardi Gras sometimes gets a bad reputation as being some kind of drunken orgy or something. Well, people need to forget that because it isn't true. Sure, there was beer and other stuff to drink for our crowd if you wanted it, but you really don't have much time to drink. I'm a perfect example of that. I got thirsty, so I opened me a beer. I took about three sips of it and put it down, thinking I'd get the rest of it after the next float. Well, I got busy and forgot about it. I never saw it again. I did the same thing three or four times. I didn't see a single drunk person anywhere around us. Now the Quarter was a different story. Some of those people were drunk. No question about it. But all up and down St. Charles Avenue and Canal Street, it was all mostly families and groups like us, and those people were not drunk.
       I've got one more observation, and then I'm quitting this to go play with my beads awhile, see what Jeff put on the Web site from today, and then go to bed. We're leaving tomorrow morning to go home. This is about music. Two things. One. Every parade has a bunch of bands in it, and I think we only heard about three bands actually playing music in all the parades we saw. Now I know that a band can't play all the time. They probably don't know enough songs, for one thing, and that's got to be tiring, for another thing. But if a parade has thirty bands, and every one of them marches down the street just to drums, something's wrong. Two. The people about a half block down from us had this monster stereo with gigantic speakers, and they played music all day long. Loud. At first it was just jazz and Mardi Gras music and oldies, and that was fine. Then they started playing the music to the Chicken Dance. At first that was fine, too, and Cherie even taught us how to do it. We were dancing right there on the sidewalk, having a good time. Those people overdid it, though. The first thirty times you hear it, you think, That was fun, but let's give it a rest. After hearing it seventy-five times, you want to break the fucking CD.

Chapter 15

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Taking the kids out of school for three days to go to Mardi Gras had been sort of risky, I thought. Tim and Brian made straight A's every grading period, but Kyle struggled to make B's and C's. The irony of that was that Kyle was every bit as smart, if not smarter, than Tim and Brian, but for some reason his personality was just not suited to school. He had started off his educational career by repeating kindergarten, and the road had been sort of bumpy off and on since then. Rita and I had discussed it in New Orleans.
       "Kevin, I'm so glad we came to Mardi Gras," Rita had said. "You know that your mother and I have become very good friends?"
       "Yeah, she talks about you and asks about you every time we have a phone conversation," I said.
       "The way your parents have opened their home and their hearts to us is just wonderful," she said, "and they seem to be so fond of the boys. And speaking of them, they seem to be having a glorious time. Kyle has been so excited, he's just about been jumping out of his skin."
       "I was a little worried about them missing three days of school for this trip," I said.
       "But Kevin, this is such a wonderful cultural experience for them. When you come from a little backwater town like we do, you have to get your children to a big city as often as you can. Gene and I have always believed that. We tried to see to it that our boys traveled and experienced the world."
       "You're right about the cultural experience, that's for sure. I worry about their grades, though," I said.
       "My Kyle--bless his heart, he's such a sweet boy--has never been the scholar Clay was," she said. "You know he repeated kindergarten, but did you know he had to take medicine for hyperactivity for a number of years when he was little?"
       I didn't know that, but I wasn't one bit surprised.
       "No, I didn't," I said.
       "It sort of cleared up at puberty, which came rather early for him. Our pediatrician had said that would probably happen, and it did," she said.
       Oh, yeah? I thought. How much have you been around him?
       "Do you ever worry about his future," I asked.
       "Not at all. Kyle's going to be just fine. He's a very happy person by disposition, and he'll always survive and have a wonderful life."
       Yeah, with his big fat trust fund standing behind him. That could happen. Survival could happen.
       "You're right, Rita. Kyle is the natural leader of our boys. I guess you know that," I said.
       "Yes. We talked about that some at Christmas, if you remember. He's always been that way," she said.
       "Yeah, I do remember."
       "He's going to run for president of Student Government at school. I hope and pray that he's not hurt, if he loses," she said.
       "Do you think he would be, Rita?"
       "Yes, but only for about an hour," she said.
       She and I laughed. Maybe you know Kyle better than I thought you did, I thought.
       "Kevin, changing the subject a little, has Kyle talked to you about becoming a Catholic?"
       "No, he hasn't," I said.
       "You and Rick are a profound influence on him, as I know you know, and you're both Catholic. Tim is Catholic, and I guess Brian and Jeff are, too. He also thinks very highly of your friend, Father Jerry, I believe his name is. Anyway, he's talked to Gene and me about it, and I hope you and Rick will give him whatever support he needs in that decision."
       "You know we will, Rita," I said.
       "Yes, I do know that. Kevin, if anything should happen to me, I hope you and Rick will take my place in Kyle's life. He loves you two so much."
       She suddenly got huge tears in her eyes.
       "Rita, are you okay?"
       "Yes, I'm fine. Let's go catch some beads. And don't worry about Kyle's grades. He'll do just fine."
       As it turned out, three of Kyle's four teachers had been at Mardi Gras at the same time we were, and their substitutes hadn't done any more than assign the busy-work the teachers had left for them to assign. In one class they had watched a movie video all three days that Kyle had already seen twice. In another they had free reading time, and in the third, they had done worksheets.
       The worksheet teacher had passed them out the Friday we left and had told the class they were due on the following Thursday. Kyle had brought them with him and had, unbeknownst to us at the time, distributed them, along with pens, to his brothers at the start of the return trip. I had seen all of them, except Justin, working on something, but I assumed it was their own school work. By the time we got to the Louisiana-Mississippi state line, about forty-five minutes into the trip, that work was done. Not only was Kyle a natural leader and delegator, he knew not to enlist Justin because that would have attracted our suspicions. When I found out about what he had done, I thought about my conversation with Rita in New Orleans. Yes, Kyle will survive, and he'll make a shit-load of money doing it, I thought.
       Kyle's fourth class, Outdoor Living, was a physical education elective that basically offered no challenge to an Eagle Scout who also wore the Order of the Arrow sash.
       * * *
       The last week in February was the beginning of our Spring Break season. True, it wasn't officially spring anywhere, but it was certainly spring-like in Emerald Beach. It started with the northern-most tier of states, and we had kids from Maine here as early as February 21st. To us it was still wintertime, and the temperature rarely rose above 75 degrees in the hottest part of the day, but to them, I suppose, it was spring. Our kids were still wearing long sleeve shirts and long-pants jeans to school every day, and now and then they even put on a light jacket to go out at night.
       We were in the tourist business, of course, and we depended on the migration of people from elsewhere to make a living. I had worked very hard to make our four "brand name" hotels into convention destinations, and that was beginning to pay off very nicely. The other seven were still primarily for tourists who were here to enjoy the beach, and that would probably never change. But there were ways of marketing them, too, and I made sure my Marketing Director and his staff knew how to do that. Our best months were, in this order, June, July, March, and April. June and July had two major national holidays going for them--Memorial Day and Independence Day--as well as summer vacation for school kids. All March and April had going for them was Spring Break. MTV was coming back after a four-year hiatus, so we got a lot of free publicity from them, but we advertised heavily in campus newspapers and on campus TV stations all over the place east of the Mississippi.
       Rick's part of the business was just as dependent on traffic as mine was, maybe even more so. We figured out that spring that Mister Gene had gotten two very good brains for the price of one-and-a-half good brains, but that was okay. We were family, after all, and we still made a lot more money than we needed. Rick and I never fought at home or over personal stuff, like sex or money or family, but we fought like two dogs after the same bitch in heat at work in the first couple of weeks of Spring Break that spring. We'd have meetings with our staffs that always started off very cordially. Then things would begin to heat up. After a while, we'd be calling each other filthy names and castigating each other's parentage. The people who worked for us and who attended those meeting all knew we were an unshakable couple, and I'd occasionally see a grin or even hear a stifled laugh when we really got down on one another.
       Rick and I were often mad as hell at one another over some business issue, but I was never mad at him as my husband, and he was never mad at me as his. In fact, the unwritten rule became the more ferocious the fight at work, the more passionate the love-making at home. Or, sometimes, in the office. We were testing and challenging one another at work, and we were growing so much closer to one another at home.
       "You guys have been getting mighty lovey-dovey lately," Justin said one night near the end of the first week of Spring Break. "I'll bet it's seeing all those big fine boys all day that's making you pump out all that testosterone."
       We were on the sofa with our shirts off, and I was holding Rick in our usual position.
       "What are you talking about? Go do your homework," Rick said.
       "I don't have homework. I'm a working boy, remember?"
       "Go do Brian's for him, then," Rick said. He was teasing Justin, as usual.
       "I'd rather sit here and watch you get hard."
       "Justin, you are a fundamentally flawed human being, you know that," Rick said.
       "Yeah, right, asshole," Jus said.
       "Come here," Rick said.
       "What?" But he came over to us anyway.
       "Sit here with us, Buddy. We are so proud of you, we could bust," Rick said.
       "I see something that's fixing to bust. Those buttons on your jeans are fixing to bust wide open," he said laughing.
       Rick laughed. "Hey, Justin, guess what? I'm human, man. I get an erection when the man I love holds me like this."
       He sat down on the edge of the sofa and put his hand on Rick's chest.
       "Rick, I know you're human, and I'm glad you can still get hard at your age."
       "Go to bed, Justin. Go to fucking bed, man," Rick said.
       All three of us laughed.
       "Seriously, I have three things I want to say to y'all. First, I love both of you more than I have words to say. And this is about to make me cry, so I'll move on to number two."
       All three of us laughed.
       "Number two is, thank you for taking me in and giving me a home. A very happy home. You have taken me places and let me do things that I didn't even know existed. The words 'thank you' weren't even in my vocabulary when I came here, but I know what they mean now. And I mean them when I say them, too."
       "Come in here with us. I want to hold you, Bubba," Rick said. "Kevin and I love you so much, man."
       Justin got on the sofa with us, and we hugged one another. We really did love that boy, and we were so proud of him. I had my worries about his long-term future because of his past, but at that moment he was all ours.
       We stayed that way for a while. I had an erection, and I knew Rick had one, too. Justin had one, as well, I was sure, but those would have to go down on their own. That was a moment of emotional bonding with our son that had nothing to do with sex. Rick and I had both agreed that we didn't give Justin enough of our time. "You said you had three things, Jus, but you only said two. What's the third thing," Rick asked.
       "I don't want to say that now," he said.
       "Why not? Say it, man," Rick said.
       Long pause.
       "Jus, if you're not going to say it, go on to bed," Rick said. He was playing with Justin, and we all knew it.
       "It's stupid, Rick. Don't make me leave. You've never held me like this, and I've wanted it so bad. I'm about 90% okay from before, you know? But I've still got a little bit to work out, you know?"
       "Don't you go anywhere," Rick said. He squeezed Justin tighter.
       "What do you still need to work out," I asked.
       "That guy in that house in New Orleans. The guy who recognized me and wanted me," he said.
       "Kyle nutted him pretty good, I thought," Rick said.
       "Kyle was fabulous. No question," he said. "But that was the second one that got after me. Do you remember the guy at our bar and grill here? Where we always go after church?"
       "Yes, we remember him, Jus," I said.
       "So, that was number two in New Orleans. Am I going to have to do that all my life? I'm almost scared to go places now. I don't know what's going to happen. I was so scared with both of those guys. And the worst part is it makes me feel like a bad person, like I'm not worth anything when it happens."
       "If your brothers are with you, especially Kyle, you know nothing is going to happen to you. We can't guarantee something bad won't happen to the other guy, though," Rick said.
       "I know Kyle wants to kick ass big time. He's so gentle with us, yet he really wants to hurt somebody who is messing with us. I love him, but I don't really understand him sometimes. Why does he want to hurt them so bad?"
       "His motivation is very complicated, Jus, and I only understand a part of it. Talk to him about it," I said. "Back to your original point. I hate that you're scared, but I can understand why you would be. You're not responsible for anything you did or what happened to you when you were with Burl Jackson. You are definitely not bad. You're a good person, and don't ever forget that."
       "I never told you all this before, and I hope it won't make you mad at me. It wasn't always rough. Sometimes when I was having sex with those guys, I would come." He said that like he had committed a crime. "I enjoyed it sometimes."
       "That doesn't matter, Jus," Rick said. "Sex is one of those automatic things, man. If somebody is sucking your dick, you're going to enjoy it, whether you want to or not, don't you think? And if they keep it up long enough, you'll probably have an orgasm, whether you want to or not. And you know what I've heard?"
       "What?"
       "Orgasms are like pizza."
       "Huh?"
       "There's no such thing as really bad pizza."
       "That's a joke, isn't it," Jus asked.
       "Yeah, and obviously not a very funny one if you're not really sure it's a joke," Rick said.
       "Ha! Ha! Ha!," Justin said, mocking Rick.
       "I deserved that for that joke. How have things been going at work," Rick asked.
       "They're going good. The other day I found a package in a room that the people had already checked out of, and I hustled it down to the front desk and caught them before they left the building. The guy gave me twenty bucks as a tip," he said.
       "That's good. You were thinking, and they appreciated it. What was in the package, do you know," I asked.
       "I didn't look. I didn't think it was any of my business to look," he said.
       "Jus, would you sit up, please. I'm getting hot wedged between you and Kevin like this," Rick said.
       Justin sat up and Rick did, too.
       "Thanks for talking to me," he said. "I sure miss it when Tim and Kyle aren't here."
       "You don't really have much to do at night, do you," I asked.
       "No. Brian studies so much I can't really play with him much at night. I'm usually too tired for much of a workout, and I want to stay awake so Bri and I can have some time together. I get bored," he said.
       I hadn't thought about the fact that Justin had a very different kind of life now than he did when he was in adult school. He never had much homework, but the guys were usually all finished with theirs by the time he got home. Now that they were working out right after school, they did their homework before they went to bed instead of when they first got home from school. I was sure he did get bored.
       "Have you learned much about how to use your computer," Rick asked. "A lot of people enjoy chatting on the Internet. You might like that."
       "I haven't done much with it. I don't know anything about it or how to use it, really. The ones at school were all set up so that you could only do one thing with them, so I didn't learn anything about the Internet or any of that," he said.
       "Jus, I know your brothers would be happy to teach you," I said.
       "I feel dumb around them as it is, Kevin. I don't want to show more of my ignorance. Besides, don't you have to be able to type to use one of those things?"
       "You can learn how to type, Jus. I taught myself how," Rick said.
       "How'd you do that," he asked.
       "I bought myself some typing software and just did what it said. You're pretty good with you hands. You can do it, too. I still have the software around here somewhere."
       "I'll try it," he said. "I feel sort of out of it because the rest of them know so much about computers. I know I need to know that stuff, too. Maybe I could take a course at the college in that. Do they have things like that there?"
       "Yes, of course they do. And the school district has community education courses on how to use the computer, too. If you want, I'll do some checking for you. Now let's go find that software," Rick said.
       "I don't want to pull you away from Kevin, Rick."
       "Kevin and I spent most of the day together at work screaming at each other," Rick said.
       "Screaming? I've never heard y'all even argue, much less fight. What happened?" He got this pained look of concern on his face.
       "We weren't literally screaming, Bubba. We disagreed about something, that's all. It wasn't about us. It was about work stuff. We still love each other, don't worry," Rick said. "There aren't any problems between us."
       "Phew! That's good to hear. I can't ever see you guys busting up," he said. I considered that quite a compliment, and I knew Rick did, too.
       "We can't either, Jus," I said.
       "No, we're in this forever, Jus," Rick said. "But come on, let's go."
       They went off to find the typing software.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       Ever since we got back from New Orleans, I've had e-mail from Seth Adams every single day. Sometimes two or three in the same day. I really liked him, and I thought he was a great guy, but I just didn't know what to say to him.
       "Just delete it without opening it," Tim said after I complained to him about it.
       "I don't want to hurt his feelings," I said. "I want him as a friend, and I'm sure we'll see him again when we go back to New Orleans."
       "Why don't you ask Kevin and Rick what to do."
       "The problem is, he doesn't have any friends but us. He's started chatting on Gay dot com, and he now says he has a boyfriend on there," I said. "Do you believe you can have a boyfriend on the Internet? A real boyfriend?"
       "Yeah, I've heard of that," he said.
       "I need to be close enough to my boyfriend to get some of this," I said.
       I started rubbing his dick through his pants. I was just doing it as a joke, but he didn't think it was funny. I felt him start to get hard in about two seconds, and that made me start to get hard, too. It was right after school, and we were in the den at Kevin and Rick's house. We were still eating our snack. We were going to work out, and we didn't usually make love at that time of day. I took my hand away.
       "Why'd you stop," he asked.
       "Are you sure," I asked.
       "Yeah. Brian's off being a Den Chief for those Cub Scouts, and the rest of 'em are at work. Nobody's coming home soon," he said.
       "Well, come here, then, you little sex monkey." That made me very glad.
       We started kissing, and it felt damn good to be that spontaneous. I could make love to Tim any time, any place. Sometimes I worried I was hornier than I was supposed to be. I told that to Rick one time, and he laughed and said it was my job to be horny. Well, in that case, I ought to get the employee of the year award.
       We kissed and made out for a long time. We took our shirts off and played with each other's nipples. He could do things to my nipples with his tongue that were unbelievable. I hoped what I did felt as good to him. It had been a while since we had just jerked each other off, and that's what we did that afternoon. I know a lot of people think you have to stick you dick into some opening for it to really be sex, but I think a good handjob can be just as satisfying and just as much fun as anything else. We took a long time doing each other, and that was nice. I've gotten to the point where I can tell when Tim's real close, so I slack off and make it last for him. He can do the same for me, too, although sometimes he doesn't pay good attention and he forgets to slow down.
       When it comes to hand work, I favor the gentle touch. You see these movies where guys are jerking off, and they're going at it so hard they look like they're about to pull their dicks off. Nuh-uh. I want it soft and delicate and gentle. The same thing goes for blowjobs and fucking. I've never done those things with anybody but Tim, but I think he's a master at all of it.
       I always like it when Tim shoots his cum on my dick and balls, and that's what he did that day. Ohhh, that's hot to me. I did the same to him.
       "Let's clean each other up," he said.
       I went for my underwear to wipe us off, but that little monkey had something else in mind. He meant clean each other up with our mouths. Well, you guessed it, and we both came again hard in a sixty-nine.
       "I don't think I can have sex again for a week," I said when we were all through.
       "Shit, Kyle, you know you'll want it again when we go to bed."
       I laughed because I knew he was right.
       He grabbed me and hugged me tight. God, I love that guy.
       That night I brought up the subject of Seth and all his e-mail to Kevin and Rick. We had just finished the snack we had instead of eating dinner, and we were all in the den.
       "I don't know what to say to him," I said. "I can't just ignore the guy. I consider him a friend, and I know he doesn't have many friends."
       "What does he write to you about," Justin asked.
       "Mostly this guy he says he's dating," I said.
       "He's dating someone," Kevin asked.
       "Well, not really. Not in person, anyway. In chat," I said.
       I saw Rick cut his eyes to Justin, and I wondered what was up. I knew Justin wasn't chatting with anybody, and I knew Rick wasn't chatting, either.
       "What is this chat you're talking about, Kyle," Rick asked.
       "You don't know what chat is?"
       "I'd like you to explain it, if you don't mind," he said.
       Then I knew what was up. Justin didn't know what it was, and Rick didn't want to embarrass him by saying so. Rick also knew that I knew. I went ahead and gave a good explanation, not using any technical words so I knew Justin could follow it.
       "Do y'all think that's a real boyfriend," Jus asked when I was finished explaining it.
       "That's the kind of boyfriend I had before you, Buddy," Brian said.
       "What did y'all do?"
       "Jus, that's kind of a personal question, don't you think," Rick said.
       Justin got a frustrated look on his face.
       "Rick, I know sex is private and we don't talk in public about private matters, but how can two people sitting at computers, miles away from one another, possibly have sex? I'm not trying to be nosey. I'm just needing information."
       Justin was always cute, but he was especially cute right then.
       "I don't mind talking about it, Rick," Brian said.
       "Well, okay," Rick said.
       "Buddy, mostly we just talked about stuff we were doing or had done that day."
       "No lip action, huh?"
       "Did you guys cyber," Tim asked.
       "Yeah," Brian said.
       "Cyber? Have we done that," he asked Brian.
       Kevin and Rick were trying real hard not to laugh out, and it was pretty hard for me to keep from doing it, too.
       "Cyber sex is doing it with somebody over the Internet," I said.
       "I'm getting more confused by the minute," Jus said. "To me, having sex means touching and kissing and . . ."
       "We know how it's done, Bubba," Kevin said.
       He laughed.
       "Hell, y'all were probably the inventors," he said.
       Everybody laughed hard on that one.
       "With cyber sex, you write back and forth what you would do if the person was there with you in the room or in the bed with you," Brian said.
       "People think that's having sex," Justin asked.
       "You're of the old fashioned grunt and sweat school, Bubba," I said.
       "I'm sorry, but, yeah, I am," Jus said. "I'm just an old-fashioned kind of guy."
       We laughed.
       "Bubba, basically what people do when they have cyber sex is they describe what they would do, just like Brian said, and then they masturbate," Kevin said.
       "Oh. See, I don't think of masturbation as real sex if it's just you doing it to yourself," he said. "There's no communication of feelings."
       "Damn! Where the hell did that come from," I asked.
       Justin and I tapped knuckles together.
       "It came from right here in my head," he said.
       "Which head?"
       "Shut up, Kyle," he said, laughing.
       "So Seth writes to you about his friend," Rick asked.
       "Yeah, he even sent me his picture. The guy looks like he's about twelve. He's fifteen, but he looks real young in that picture. He's got braces and pimples," I said. "Definitely not cute."
       "Can't everybody be a big, hairy-chested stud, you know." When he did that, he pulled on the front of my shirt, but he made sure he got a lump of hair between his fingers.
       "Ow! That hurts, man. I can't help it. It's connected to real skin, you know? I told you that. Don't do that," I said. "I'm going to start pulling your pubic hair and see how you like it."
       "Don't be pissed at me, Bubba. I'm sorry. I won't do it any more," he said. "Okay?"
       "Okay, but mean it this time, okay?"
       "I do, Kyle. I'm sorry, man."
       "Where was I," I said.
       "You were telling us about the boyfriend. Seth's boyfriend," Rick said.
       "He's sent me some logs of their chats, too. I read about a third of one of them, but I haven't read any more of them. I mean, I like Seth a lot, and I want him to be my friend. Our friend. But he writes me these real long letters, and there's nothing to say in return," I said.
       "Why don't you tell him that you'll write to him once or twice a week, but that's all," Kevin suggested.
       "Do you think I could get away with that," I asked.
       "It wouldn't hurt to try," he said.
       "I just don't want to hurt him, you know," I said. "He's such a nice guy, and I know he doesn't really have any friends. He didn't tell me that, but I just know it."
       "I'm proud of you for having that attitude, Kyle," Kevin said. "I want to tell all of you something, and I hope you'll never tell this to Seth. Okay?"
       "Whatever you say, Kev," Justin said. He was speaking for all of us.
       "Seth apparently has very low self-esteem. Do you all know what that means?"
       "He feels like he's worthless, like nobody likes him, like he doesn't matter to anybody. Is that what you mean," Justin asked.
       "That's exactly right, Jus."
       "Been there, done that," Jus said.
       "I think we all have been, Jus. Everybody feels that way to some extent at some point in their lives. A lot of young gay boys feel that way. All of you did, probably. I certainly did. But then we found love and acceptance. We found somebody who said, basically, I don't care what you are. I love you, and you are valuable to me," Kevin said.
       "Isn't that what happens in this family," I asked.
       "I hope so," Kevin said.
       "Shit, Kevin, I know so. That's exactly what y'all did for me, and for Brian and Jeff, too," Justin said. I knew he wasn't mad or pissed off. He just felt real strong about us, and he was saying so right then.
       "That's also what you guys did for Seth, and, Kyle, like it or not, need it or not, in his mind the main focus of that is you. I don't think you boys fully grasp the impact that all of you together can have on a person," Kevin said.
       "But we didn't do anything. All we did was be nice to him," I said.
       "Think about it, Kyle. You're Seth and you think you're a worthless piece of shit. All of a sudden somebody like Kyle and Tim take you aside and spend an hour and a half showing you their Web site. Then, they take you outside for a parade, and they joke with you and tease you and include you in their fun with their closest friends. And all the friends include you, too. Then they want you to party with them that night in the French Quarter. You think you're a worthless piece of shit because you're gay, and, all of a sudden, these great guys, who are fun and good looking and well built and masculine and self-confident and happy, tell you they're gay, too. Am I getting my point across?"
       "Yeah, and it's kind of scary, too, Kevin," I said. "I can't drop this kid. It's like we helped make him or something, and if I dropped him, he'd break, wouldn't he?"
       "He'd bust into a million pieces, Kyle. Please don't do that, Bubba. I'll write to him some for you. Kyle, I was more fucked up than he is, and you didn't give up on me. Please don't give up on him," Justin said. He had tears in his eyes.
       "Jus, he asks about you every day. I'll give you his e-mail address so you can write to him. He'd love that," I said.
       "Kyle, I talked to Rick and Kevin about this the other night. I don't know what e-mail is. I'm going to learn because I know it's important, but it's going to take me a while," Jus said.
       "Buddy, I'll teach you," Brian said. "We all had to learn. I didn't think you knew about it, but I didn't want to embarrass you by asking. We'll all work with you. Won't we?"
       Brian looked at me and Tim.
       "Abso-fucking-lutely, dude," I said. "Stud, you're going to be a computer whiz by the time we finish with your ass. And don't ever be afraid to ask questions, man. I didn't know shit about how to do anything with a Web page until I asked Jeff to show me. Now I can do a lot. In fact, I'm going to make my own Web site. It's going to be called 'Kyle for SGA President,' and I'm going to put the address on all my campaign stuff. There will be pictures of me naked for the girls and for a few select members of our team."
       They all laughed when I said that.
       "And, no, Kevin, I'm only teasing. I don't need a private chat," I said.
       Again, we laughed some more.
       I was talking again. "I think what I'm going to do is just let him keep writing me like he wants to. I'll give it another month or so. I bet he'll slack up some because he's making friends in real life, too. He told me about a girl who sits next to him in some class. English, I think. They've been talking before and after class. And he's started giving his neighbor a ride to school. It's a guy, and I think he's fourteen. Maybe they'll start hanging out, and he won't have so much time to write to me."
       "Has he come out to his parents yet," Kevin asked.
       "Well, yeah, but it was sort of a reverse of him coming out," I said. "He said his parents were talking about us and said something like, 'If more people knew gay guys like them, the stereotypes would disappear.' Then they went on to talk about us and that we were gay, and that they knew he was gay, and it was perfectly fine with them. It was just like Cherie said it would be. So, yeah, he's out to them."
       "Who outed me? I'll kill the motherfucker," Justin said.
       We all laughed.
       "Yeah, you've been in the closet so long you got hanger prints on your face," I said.
       They thought that was funny, too.
       "I'll get your hanger, dude," he said.
       "But it won't be hanging when you get after it," I said.
       "All right, guys. I think that's enough for tonight. Go do your homework," Kevin said.
       "And I've got home keys to work on," Justin said. I didn't know what he was talking about, but Rick hugged him.
       I started upstairs with the rest of them, but Kevin called me back. Shit, I thought. Another private chat. What the hell did I do?
       "Kyle, Rick and I want to talk to you," Kevin said.
       Double barrel this time, I thought.
       "Sir?" I was going to play this one meek because I didn't have any idea of what this was about. I usually knew.
       "Kyle, we are so proud of you for the way you're dealing with Seth. That boy needs you badly. Please don't give up on him," Rick said.
       Phew, I thought. This ain't a chew-out.
       "You heard what Justin said, didn't you? You didn't give up on him, and he was a lot worse off. And he was, Kyle, and you didn't give up on him," Kevin said.
       "I'm not going to give up on Seth," I said.
       "That wasn't an order," Rick said.
       "I know, but I have a conscience, you know? I know what my responsibilities are, Rick. And I do 'em, man. I do my responsibilities."
       "Yes, you do, little man," Kevin said. He had tears in his eyes. What the fuck was that all about?
       Both of them grabbed me up in a big hug, and I gave it back to them. I wasn't sure what that was all about, exactly, but I liked it. I went upstairs then to help Justin with e-mail. Imagine! Helping somebody with e-mail! Jesus.

Chapter 16

(Justin's Perspective)
       Those guys loved a trip better than anything, except maybe a party, and that was all right with me. They had taken me to New Orleans twice, to North Carolina twice, and to Sarasota once, and that was the total of the traveling I had ever done. I had never even thought about going to a museum or a zoo or deep sea fishing or skiing or any of the stuff they took me to. I had been in just fast-food hamburger places before I met up with those guys, but since then I've been in some fine places to eat. They taught me table manners, too, and other kinds of manners. I was truly country-come-to-town when I met them, but they didn't give a shit about any of that. They never made fun of me except in fun, and if there was a single word for what we were all about, after "love" it would have to be "fun." They made me into a new person, and don't think I didn't appreciate it and love them, too. Sure, it wasn't always peaches and cream, and there were conflicts, sometimes. But the conflicts were never mean or hateful. I only had one direction to go when I got there, and that was up, and that's where they made me go.
       My job at the hotel was pretty chicken shit, and I knew that. I worked it as hard as I could, though. There is a certain amount of trust you put in somebody when you turn them loose in hotel rooms where people have all of their stuff right there for the taking. I never touched a thing, though, because I knew if I broke trust with Kevin and Rick, it would be all over for my ass. And then what? No, sir. I did exactly as I was told, and I never even so much as took a cigarette out of a pack that had been left in a room. No, sir. Nothing.
       At first the work was pretty dull. I'd have to make up beds and straighten up stuff and clean the bathrooms. I'd have to vacuum and dust and empty the trash and that sort of thing. I was basically a maid. But then I started noticing things, like what kind of liquor they were drinking, if any of that was out, and what kind of clothes they had hanging in the little closet alcoves. Then my mind went to work, and I started imagining what the people were like. You could tell a lot about people's habits from how they left their rooms, or at least I thought you could, and I learned to spot little things that gave clues. Our rooms have two beds in them. Sometimes both beds had been slept in, and sometimes only one. If it was a married couple, I wasn't surprised when only one bed had been used. Two guys and only one bed? You tell me what that was all about.
       Most of the people in housekeeping were ladies, and I got along real good with them. As far as they knew, I was just another kid who needed a job, and that was the way I kept it. They had no idea that every night I went home to the house of the big boss and that the owner's son was my brother and best friend. Some of those ladies tried to fix me up with their daughters or granddaughters, but, of course, I wasn't interested. I never lied to them about being gay or not being gay; I just never let it be an issue. I wasn't scared of them knowing I was gay, but I just didn't think it should matter in those circumstances.
       Rick and Kyle took me under their wings when it came to learning stuff about the computer. I knew Brian and Tim would have been all over themselves about teaching me how to do computer stuff, but I was a little bit shy about not already knowing stuff they had known since they were little kids. Rick never fooled with it at home, but it turned out he knew quite a bit about it. He got me started learning how to type, and I got pretty good pretty fast. Kyle showed me all about e-mail and the World Wide Web, and he showed me how to use the Google to find information. Kyle gave me his password to some kind of adult verification thing, and I did some checking out of the boys on the gay picture pages. Some of those boys were pretty hot looking, but when you got a hot one right next to you naked in bed every night, and him willing to do anything in the world you want to do, you don't much need those boys on the Internet.
       Speaking of the Internet and e-mail and such, Kyle got all worried about that Seth boy we met in New Orleans at Mardi Gras. He writes to Kyle a lot, and Kyle doesn't know what to write back to him. He thinks he has to match him one for one, but all that boy really wants is for Kyle to show him a little attention now and then. It's like a case of hero worship or something. The thing is, Kyle doesn't understand the effect he has on people. You take somebody like Craig Foley, Kevin's brother. He's probably as straight as they come, but I'd bet you anything he'd hoist his fine young ass up in the air for Kyle in a minute, if that's what Kyle wanted. I may be making this up, but that's the way it seems to me.
       On about that last week in March, it was time for another trip. Kevin and Rick had given Kyle a week-long trip to New York City for his birthday in November, and they had done the same thing for Brian's birthday in January. Those were trips for two each, and Tim's name and my name were on the second tickets. I had started my job on February 2nd, and I damn sure didn't need a vacation by the time March 21st rolled around. But a vacation I was going to get, and a paid one at that.
       "We've got to make sure you don't lose any pay while we're gone to New York," Kyle had said to me one day.
       "I get paid by the hour, Bubba. How do you figure I should get paid when I ain't even in town?"
       "Yeah, but this is going to be like training for you," he said. "You're going to go to New York to learn how the big city boys do it."
       He was grinning so hard his face was about to split open. He knew everything he was saying was bullshit, but that didn't stop him. The thing is, I really didn't need much money. I lived in a palace, ate like a king, and they took me to all these nice places without me having to pay for any of it. Now and then, if the four of us went out together, Kyle would let me pay, but that was rare. He always carried a good bit on him, and he was the only one of us who had a credit card. And he didn't fail to use it, either, if we wanted something. He never really bought much for himself, though.
       "Training? What the hell are you talking about, boy," I said. "Ain't but one way to make up a bed or clean a toilet."
       "Aren't you supposed to be in training to be a manager or something," he asked.
       "Yeah, but . . ."
       "But what? But your butt?"
       He grabbed my butt when he said that, just like I knew he would. We both laughed.
       "So, this is all about my butt?"
       "Speaking of butt, gimme one."
       He wanted a cigarette, so I gave him one. He smoked about one a week or something like that, so he never had his own. He kept me in supply, though, "from the gettin' place" as he called it, meaning the warehouse. That was a good arrangement because I couldn't yet buy them legally, anyway.
       "Kyle, you know your idea is another one of your bullshit schemes," I said.
       He grinned mighty big.
       "Yeah? So what?"
       "So one of these days they're going to get tired of you, that's so what."
       "What are they going to do? Stop talking to me? Plus, it'll just be a suggestion. I can't make any decisions. You know that," he said.
       "That's probably a good thing. If you could, there's no telling how wild you'd get."
       "No, sir, I wouldn't, either," he said. "I ain't a fool, Justin, except on purpose sometimes. I can be shrewd when I want to be."
       After I thought about it, I knew that was right. Well, he did talk Kevin into paying me for forty hours of training. He tried to get him to pay me for twenty-four hours for each of the eight days we were going to be gone, but even Kyle wasn't that persuasive.
       * * *
       The six of us had a good talk the night before we left for New York.
       "Take taxis; no subways," Kevin said.
       "I've been on subways," Kyle said, like he was trying to dispute Kevin.
       "In New York? By yourself?"
       "No, but . . ."
       "Kyle, this is not a subject for debate," Rick said. "Take taxis."
       "Okay," Kyle finally said. They knew he'd obey a direct order like that one, and they knew he'd make the rest of us obey it, too.
       "In just one more week we would have been able to go to a baseball game," Tim said. "I checked the Web sites for both the Yankees and the Mets, and neither team even has an in-town exhibition game while we're there."
       "Maybe we can ride up to Atlanta to see the Braves sometime," Kevin said.
       "Oh, Kev, that would be so cool, man. I've actually done that a few times," Kyle said.
       "What haven't you done," I asked. I said it sarcastic to tease him.
       "I ain't bit your dick off yet, but that's going to be next on my list if you don't stop being mean to me," he said.
       I didn't have a come-back line, and everybody laughed when they realized I didn't know what to say.
       "Make sure you eat at at least one really nice restaurant," Kevin said. "Tavern on the Green might be nice, or 21. See if the concierge can make a reservation for you. Y'all packed your suits, didn't you?"
       "Yes, sir," we all said together.
       "You guys aren't taking your boots, are you?"
       "Give us some credit, Kevin," Kyle said.
       "Okay. Just checking."
       "You guys need to take a bus tour of the city as soon as you can," Rick said. "The concierge can help you with that, too. And don't forget to be good tippers, you hear? Make sure the concierge, especially, knows you appreciate what he or she does for you."
       "Like how much," Brian asked. I was glad he asked that, because I sure didn't know.
       "Well, it sort of depends on the service. If he gets you reservations at an exclusive restaurant on the day you want to go, then I'd say $20. If he gets those same reservations a week in advance, I'd say $10," Rick said.
       "Who else do we tip," Kyle asked.
       "I'm glad you asked that," I said.
       "Let's start at the beginning with the Sky Caps," Kevin said.
       "Who's that," Kyle asked.
       "Those are the guys who work for the airline and who will help you with your luggage when you get to New York. They'll put the luggage in the cab for you, and the standard is $2 per bag. How many pieces of luggage are y'all taking?"
       "One suitcase each and two bags for the hanging clothes," Kyle said.
       "So that's six bags. Give the Sky Cap $12, and tip him both times--when you get there and when you leave," Kev said.
       "Okay. Who's next," Kyle asked.
       "Next would be the cab driver. Give him 15% of the fare. Do you know the quick way to figure 15%?"
       "Don't look at me," Kyle said. We laughed.
       "I know," Tim said. "You take the amount, move the decimal point, and then add half of that again."
       "Huh?" Kyle was a damn smart boy in every way, but he was shit with numbers, especially in his head.
       "Babe, follow me on this. Let's say the bill is $18.65. If you move the decimal, you get $1.86 or $1.87 by rounding up. What is half of $1.87?"
       "Timmy, I don't know," Kyle said.
       "Come on, Kyle. You're not stupid. What is half of 18?"
       "Nine."
       "So, half of $1.87 is going to be around ninety cents, right?"
       "What if I just rounded it all up to $20? Then the tip would be around $3, wouldn't it," Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, what you just said makes it easier, plus it makes the service person happy," Kevin said. "You fellows have money. Spread it around. Don't be cheap."
       "Who's next," Kyle asked.
       "Next will be the bell hop, probably," Rick said.
       "I know something about that," I said. "I talk to the bell staff all the time, and they'll lay a bad cussing on a cheapskate, that's for sure."
       "So how much," Kyle asked.
       "I'd say twenty bucks a room," I said. "If you give that much, he'll hide a body for you if you need for him to."
       "For real," Tim asked.
       "Yeah, for real," I said. "What if we have to kill Kyle? What are we going to do with the body?"
       Kyle was laughing his nuts off at ole Tim.
       "You're teasing me, aren't you," Tim asked. He was another one who was smart but dumb about common sense things.
       "Nobody's going to kill me, Babe," Kyle said. "Justin, though, is another matter."
       "Are you going to kill me after you bite my dick off," I asked.
       "If we have to," Kyle said. "We're going to have the dick bronzed, though, so we can have something to play with on the plane on the way home."
       Everybody laughed.
       "Speaking of planes, do we tip the waitresses on the plane," I asked.
       "Waitresses," Kyle asked that like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.
       "Or waiters," I said.
       "They're called flight attendants, Bubba, and you don't tip 'em," Kyle said. "Why don't you, anyway?"
       "I don't know, because they are kind of like waiters and waitresses," Rick said. "I'll have to check into that."
       "There are a couple more people you need to know about," Kevin said. "On the bus tour, tip the driver $5 each when it's over. If you go to a really nice restaurant, there will probably be a restroom attendant. Tip him a buck or two."
       "Even if he doesn't shake you off good," Kyle asked.
       Kevin and Rick thought that was about the funniest damn thing, and they were laughing their butts off. I didn't know what he was talking about.
       "The restroom attendant helps you pee?" That was Tim again. Damn, even I knew better than that.
       "Come here, you little monkey," Kyle said, grabbing Tim around the neck. "Don't you let anybody touch that but me, you hear?" Tim was really a cute kid, and he was especially cute when he was being dumb.
       "The guy in the restroom is there to clean up the place, wipe up water from when guys wash their hands, make sure there are enough towels, and things like that," Kevin said. "He'll probably hand you a towel."
       We talked more about stuff like that, and we finished up the evening with bowls of ice cream. It wasn't really an ice cream moment like the usual ones were, but it seemed like a good way to end things.
       "Are you excited about the trip," I asked Brian when we were in bed. I was holding him in a spoon, and I had his dick in my hand. We had each already come once, and I was hoping we could work up a second one.
       "Yeah," he whispered back. "Have you ever been in an airplane before?"
       "No. You?"
       "No. Kyle and Tim have been, though. Tim told me it was really neat." He was quiet for a few seconds, and then he said, "Justin, I love you so much, and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for loving me."
       I squeezed him in my arms.
       "Brian, I love you so much, too. You're the best thing I've ever known. You're so smart, and you're so cute, and so everything," I said. "I could hold you like this forever."
       "I hope I don't ever have to go back home. I still miss my mom a lot, but I'd hate to have to leave you," he said.
       That was a jolt, if I ever heard one. I had never even thought about that happening.
       "That's not going to happen, is it," I asked.
       "Not that I know of, but I just hope it never does," he said.
       "I turn eighteen in about three months. I'd go with you, if it happened," I said. "But let's don't think about that. Let's make love."
       By then his dick was rock hard again, and so was mine. Even though he was usually the bottom guy, I wanted him to fuck me that night. I wanted to feel him deep inside me, pumping out his love, filling up that rubber. That little monkey came through like a champ for me that night, too.
       * * *
       We were up early the next morning to get our flight at 7:10. Kyle was wired like a circuit breaker, only there wasn't an "off" switch. I'd've damn sure used it if there had been. He was cute as hell, and a lot of fun, usually, when he got like that, but at 5:15 in the morning, it was getting on my nerves. Kevin saw that it was. He got behind Kyle at the breakfast table and started giving him a neck and shoulder massage to calm him down. After a few minutes, it worked. He was still excited, but at least I didn't want to punch his lights out any more. I'd never do that to him, of course, but sometimes I thought about it when he was like that.
       Once we were at the airport, we had to go through security. Tim and Kyle hadn't taken out their nipple rings, and they set off the machine. They had to be searched individually, and the wand picked up those rings right away. They tried to explain what they were, but the guy wouldn't take their word for it unless he saw for himself. They had to open their shirts so the guy could check them out. Those were two embarrassed young boys that morning. I thought about those pictures I had seen of guys with big rings through their dicks. Now wouldn't that be a sight in an airport!
       I was a little nervous about my first plane ride, and everything was smooth and good until right before we landed in Atlanta. All of a sudden, without any warning whatsoever, we took a big bounce. I thought for sure we were going down, and I'd be going down with a load of shit in my pants.
       "Jesus Christ! What the fuck was that," I said.
       Brian was on the window, I was in the middle, and Kyle was on the aisle. Tim was on the aisle across from Kyle, and there was a young guy next to Tim. He thought what I said was funny, and he started laughing.
       "Shhh. Bubba, not so loud," Kyle said. "That was just a little turbulence. It happens all the time when you're flying."
       "Why didn't somebody tell us it was coming," I asked.
       "They don't know it's coming sometimes. Sometimes they know in advance, but not usually. One time I flew through a thunderstorm, and that was the worst turbulence I've ever seen. I was pretty damn scared that time. There was lightening all around, and the plane was bouncing like crazy. I said every prayer I knew," Kyle said.
       "I can just see Kyle right now," Tim said. "He bowed his head and said, 'Bless us O Lord and these your gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty, through Christ, our Lord, Amen.'"
       Brian, Tim, and I laughed, but Kyle didn't think it was so funny. The boy next to Tim thought it was funny, though.
       "That's not the only prayer I know," Kyle said.
       "Oh, yeah? What other ones do you know," I asked. "Now I lay me down to sleep?"
       "I know the Lord's Prayer. We say it every week at church," he said.
       "That's true," I said. "What other ones?"
       "That's about it," he said, sort of laughing.
       The guy sitting next to Tim was following what we were saying real close, and he was smiling at us. He seemed like a nice guy, just from that.
       I was so green about trips and flying and all that I didn't know what to expect when we got to Atlanta. I figured we'd get right off when the plane stopped, but we didn't. It took a good fifteen minutes for us to get out of there. Once inside the airport, we had to get our bearings. We had to go from Concourse A to Concourse C, and I had no idea what that meant. Kyle and Tim both knew, though, so they took the lead and got us to where we were supposed to be. I was taking me plenty of mental notes in case I'd ever have to do that by myself or with just Brian. He was scoping it all out pretty good, too. That little guy is nobody's fool.
       We had an hour and a half before our next flight, so we decided to get something to eat. We got us each a big waffle cone of ice cream. It was only about 8:30 in the morning, and we had had a real good breakfast, but that didn't mean we weren't ready for a snack. After we had finished eating, Kyle said,
       "Let's go have a smoke."
       "You can't smoke in here," I said.
       "Yeah, you can. There's a place," he said. "There are usually a lot of cute guys in and out of there, too."
       "Oh, so that's it," I said, laughing at him. He had calmed down quite a bit from earlier in the morning, but he was still excited enough to be fun. "I was wondering why you wanted to smoke."
       "I want to smoke because I'm a smoker, just like you. You know that," he said.
       Jesus, what was it with him and smoking? I was just barely a regular smoker, but he probably smoked a pack of cigarettes a month, if that. I decided to drop the subject because it was dumb and pointless, and I knew he'd never give in.
       He led me to the smoking place, and I was overwhelmed as soon as we walked in. There was so much smoke in that air that I didn't even have to light up to get lightheaded.
       "This is shit, man. Let's get out of here," I said.
       "Don't you want to smoke," he asked.
       "I just did. I took two breaths and got four cigarettes' worth. I'm going," I said.
       "Yeah, it's pretty bad. My eyes are burning already," he said.
       There was a glass front to the room and no door, just an opening. You would expect to see smoke billowing out of the place, but it wasn't doing that. I didn't know why, but the smoke all stayed in the room.
       "Let's sit over here and watch 'em," he said.
       "Why? Let's go back to our boyfriends," I said.
       "I like to watch guys smoke, okay? I think it's sexy," he said.
       I looked over at him with this face that must have said something like, "I'm not believing this," 'cause I wasn't believing it.
       "Don't look at me like that. I know it's weird, but I still like watching 'em." He got embarrassed.
       "Kyle, don't get your ass embarrassed around me for that, Bubba. It's like a little fetish or something. It's nothing. Does it make you hard when you see a guy smoking?"
       "No, of course not. I just like to watch it, that's all. Let's change the subject."
       "Not just yet. I think everybody's got some little thing like that. I like to watch guys pee. I don't get hard when I see it, but I do like to watch it. Does Tim know you like to watch 'em smoke?"
       "Yeah. He thinks it's funny. He knows I like to watch you smoke."
       "I'll try to do it more often for you," I said.
       He laughed.
       "No, Bubba, you don't have to do that. It's just that you look so masculine when you smoke. I don't know. I'm fucked up in the head, and I know it," he said.
       I laughed when he said that.
       "Kyle, you're about the least fucked up person I know, man. If you're fucked up, I'm a basket case. There ain't nothing wrong with you mentally, dude. Is that why you smoke?"
       "Yeah, I guess," he said.
       "Chad and Gage both smoke, and that's the opposite of masculine," I said.
       "I know. They don't do anything for me," he said.
       "Let's walk back to where our two very masculine boyfriends are, okay?"
       "Jus, don't tease me about this, okay, Bubba? I just opened myself up to you because I trust you. Don't let me down."
       Well, that was all it took, you know? If he trusted me that much, I knew that boy was going to be my friend for life. I wanted bad to cry just then and hug his ass big time, but I knew I couldn't in the middle of the Atlanta airport.
       "I know. I would never do that in public. I want to get all over you so big time right now, I can hardly stand it. But we can't, and I know it. Let's go find the little guys."
       He grinned at me so big, it was like a huge sunflower turning to the east to face the sun. Melt me down right here, why don't you, Kyle, I thought. Make me a fucking puddle, man.
       * * *
       The flight to New York was okay, and there wasn't any turbulence to scare me. I knew I needed more of that so I could get used to it, but I was thankful we didn't have any. The flight from Atlanta to New York was about two hours, and Kyle was sound asleep for all but about ten minutes of it. He didn't even get a soft drink.
       It took us thirty minutes to get off the damn plane, but our luggage came up pretty quick. Rick had told us to tie a ribbon to our luggage so we could recognize it, and we had done that. That paid off big time as we watched bag after identical bag go by. When ours came by, we were able to snatch 'em off right away.
       There were a whole lot of people in that airport. A lot of them were just in ordinary American clothes, but there were a bunch of costumes, too. We saw two boys all in black with hats on. Hats, not caps, like you would expect. They had on, like, suits, too, and they had these really long pieces of hair growing down from right by their ears. They weren't beards. They were just, like, loose head hair.
       "What is that all about," I asked. I knew not to say it loud.
       "Those guys are Jews," Tim said. "Hassidic Jews."
       "What's up with that long hair on the sides of their heads," I asked.
       "I don't know what it means, but it's part of their religion," Tim said. "I read a couple of books called The Promise and The Chosen in middle school about them. I loved those books, and they were about those guys."
       "About those two? How do you know?"
       "No, not about them, Jus. They were about two boys about their age, though, who were Hassidic Jews. About how they were best friends and all. I still have them, if you want to read them," Tim said. "They're great books."
       "Maybe so," I said. God! Think about me reading a book! I had actually read a couple that Kevin had given me, and they were good. That wasn't like me at all, though.
       "I'd like to read them, too," Kyle said.
       I knew he read books because I had seen him doing it. Kevin and Rick, especially Kevin, read books a lot, so I knew it was cool to do, but I never thought I'd do it. Of course, I did a lot of stuff with them that I never thought that I'd do. Go figure.
       I saw a lot of other people dressed strange in that airport.
       After we got our luggage, we went out to the place where the taxis were. We had to stand in line, and I wanted a smoke. It tasted mighty good, too. I offered my pack to Kyle, and he shook his head "no." Given what I knew about him and smoking, I tried to do it as sexy and as masculine as I could. He caught on to what I was doing, though, and he called me "asshole" and laughed at me. I laughed, too.
       So far that day everything had been good, but it all changed at the check-in desk at the hotel.
       "I'm sorry, sir, but we can only accommodate two of you here. We've made arrangements for the other two at the hotel across the street," the desk clerk said.
       "Why," Kyle asked. He was our mouthpiece.
       "Do you really want the truth," the guy asked.
       "Yeah, I do," Kyle said.
       "We were booked solid for this week, but we had a suicide in one room and a fire in another room last night. One of your rooms was the one with the suicide in it. We have to walk you," he said. "That means put you across the street, at our expense, of course."
       "That's bullshit, man. We're four brothers, and we want to stay together. Our reservations were made a long time ago," Kyle said.
       "I know, sir, and I really hate to do this to you, but we just don't have room here."
       "Call Kevin, Kyle," I said.
       "No. I'm not calling him. I'm not whining to him like some candy-ass baby. I can take care of this," Kyle said.
       "Okay. Have at it," I said.
       "How many beds are there in the room you have," Kyle asked.
       "Well, it's a double room, so there are two beds. Two queen-size beds."
       "We'll take it. We want to be together," Kyle said.
       "Are you sure?"
       "Yeah, I'm sure. We sleep together all the time. It's not a problem, man," Kyle said.
       "Mr. Goodson, you don't realize how much this simplifies things for me," he said.
       "Just call me Kyle."
       "Well, Kyle, you have simplified things for me a great deal. I'll apply the difference in price to your room. Both rooms were paid for by company vouchers. Do you have a Corporate connection?"
       "Yeah. My father owns a franchise for one of these in Florida," Kyle said.
       "Very nice. That means you're family."
       "Can you give us the refund in cash instead of applying it," Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, of course. At least I think so."
       "Go check," Kyle said, "and then bring us our money."
       The guy chuckled as he went off to get the money. He came back in a few minutes with eight one-hundred dollar bills, three twenties, and other smaller bills, and Kyle gave two hundreds and a twenty to each one of us. He kept the loose money.
       "This is like a windfall," Kyle said. "I kind of like this. All four of us get to be in the same room, and they give us $220 each to make it happen. That is pretty damn cool."
       "It is cool," I said to Kyle in private. "You can watch me smoke my next cigarette."
       "I told you I didn't want to be teased about that, but I knew you would do it," Kyle said laughing. "Just be careful your next cigarette doesn't come out your ass, burning bright."
       "I said I wouldn't tease you about it in public. I think it's just another special little link between us, man."
       He and I both laughed about that, and we hugged each other. It felt good to be with my three brothers and best friends in New York City for an adventure.
       * * *
       We went up to our room, and it was pretty nice. We gave the bell hop $40, and he told us his name and that he would take care of us, if we needed anything. He stayed for a few minutes, and we struck up a conversation. His name was Tony, he was twenty-three years old, gay and had a boyfriend. When we told him we were gay, he said he sort of suspected it. He was a really nice guy. As it turned out, we got to be really good friends with Tony, and he took care of us like visiting royalty. We kept tipping him, though. You have to do that.
       We didn't waste any time getting busy. The first thing, after we put our stuff away in our room, was to get something to eat. It was almost noon, and all of us were hungry. We decided to eat lunch in the hotel restaurant because we wanted to talk to the concierge right after we ate. I actually knew what a concierge was because we had a concierge desk where I worked. I ordered me a club sandwich with French fries, and they brought the biggest damn sandwich I had ever seen. It was so thick I couldn't even get my mouth around it without nibbling the edges first. It was damn good, too. The French fries were very thin little shoestring potatoes, and they were crispy and soft at the same time, if that makes any sense. Brian got something called a Rubin sandwich, and he let me taste it. That Rubin moved to the top of my list for the next time we ate sandwiches.
       The concierge turned out to be yet another member of the Rainbow Brotherhood. He didn't tell us that at first, of course, but everybody suspected it. Not that we had a problem with it, but it just seemed funny that there were so many gay people in the hotel business. We had a lot of them working where I worked, too, including me.
       He set us up for a bus trip that afternoon starting at 1:30. The bus would meet us in front of our hotel, and we would just pay the driver. It was a four-hour tour, and he said it was one of the best.
       "Do you guys have any plans for tonight," he asked.
       "Not really," Kyle said. "We're supposed to go to a play tomorrow night, but we haven't talked about tonight."
       "Well, there's a tremendous amount to do," he said. "By the way, my name is Keith."
       We all introduced ourselves.
       "Where do you like to go for a night on the town," Kyle asked.
       "I probably have different tastes than you guys," Keith said.
       "Maybe not. What do you like," Kyle asked. Kyle was doing the talking for us.
       "I like to go to Greenwich Village, but I have to warn you of something. It's sort of the gay and lesbian part of town, so, if you go, don't be surprised," he said.
       "That would be cool with us," Kyle said. "I know we look straight, but we're gay."
       Keith got a slightly surprised look on his face, kinda like Seth had at the strip joint in New Orleans.
       "Well, then you might enjoy it. There are tons of people and tons of shops, bars, coffeehouses, clubs, galleries, and you'll probably find some very interesting and entertaining street performers in Washington Square," he said.
       "Why don't you go with us," Kyle asked.
       I figured he was looking for a free tour guide.
       "That's pretty tempting, actually, but . . ."
       "But what? You got a boyfriend?"
       "I'm dating someone. Yes," Keith said.
       "Call him up and see if he wants to go tonight," Kyle said.
       "You're serious, aren't you?"
       "Hell, yeah. Why not? You seem like a real nice guy, and we love making new friends," Kyle said.
       I could tell Keith was sniffing the bait, and I could also tell he liked Kyle.
       "You guys need to get outside for the tour bus. I'll work up a list of things you might enjoy doing while you're here and see if I can get tickets for you so you won't have to wait in line at some of the attractions. Samuel, the desk clerk, said you're part of the Corporate Family and that you did him a big favor. He marked your registration VIP, so we'll take good care of you. I'll still be here when you get back from the tour, and I'll let you know then if my friend and I can make it tonight," Keith said.
       We all shook Keith's hand, and he seemed to act more masculine than he had at first. While we were waiting to catch the bus, Tim called his dad and Kyle called his parents, and Kevin and Rick. They had told us to call them when we got there so they'd know we made it safe. Kyle told Rick we had already made a new friend.
       * * *
       Rick had been right about taking the bus tour. We were all over that damn city. I don't even remember all the stuff we saw, but some of 'em were Grant's Tomb; the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, which was totally awesome; Columbia University; part of Harlem; Trump Tower; Central Park; Wall Street; the Battery; South Street Seaport; and a whole bunch more. We didn't get out everywhere, and a lot of times it was just a drive-by, but the tour guy knew so much, you couldn't imagine.
       Kyle had a second camera by then, and of course Flash did his thing right and left. He put one of us on the digital, and he used his new one that took film. It was a Minolta XTsi with a zoom lens, not that that meant anything to me, but Kyle thought it was hot shit.
       After the bus tour, we looked up Keith, and, sure enough, he had a list of things for us to do. He had talked to his boyfriend, and they would be stepping out with us that night. Kyle collected ten dollars from each of us for his tip. Keith didn't want to take it at first because he said he had enjoyed doing it.
       "Bullshit, buddy," Kyle said. "You take that money and spend it tonight. You earned it, man."
       "Well, thanks, guys. I feel as though we're getting to be friends, though."
       * * *
       Our night in Greenwich Village was a whole lot of fun. The place sort of reminded me a little bit of the French Quarter in New Orleans. Keith's boyfriend turned out to be our bell hop, and me and Kyle kept those two boys laughing their asses off all night. Brian and I didn't think twice about holding hands when we saw Keith and Tony doing it, and Kyle and Tim even kissed once or twice in public. And I don't mean a peck, either.
       "You're getting mighty brazen, boy," I said to tease Kyle.
       "Shut up, asshole," he said, but he was laughing.
       "The next thing you know, you'll have his cock out sucking it over there in the park," I said.
       "Do you think we could get away with that," he asked.
       "Bubba, you're teasing me, right," I asked. With him you never really knew.
       All he did was wink at me. Now Kyle was not a winker, so I wasn't sure.
       "Tim, let's walk over to the park," Kyle said.
       "Kyle. No! Don't do it, man," I said. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
       "He's teasing you, Jus," Tim said, grinning. Then I saw Kyle's big-ass grin.
       "You shitass. You got me last for sure that time."
       Keith and Tony were old enough to buy drinks, and they managed to hustle a few out to me and Kyle, too. It wasn't about drinking, though. It was about just seeing everything there was to see.
       We went into a mostly gay sex shop and poked around. It was a lot bigger than the one in New Orleans, and Kyle bought three more of those Bel Ami movies like he had gotten at Christmas. We had watched those a bunch of times, and we had really enjoyed them. They didn't have much of a story, but they had some of the most beautiful boys in them, and all the boys had humongous dicks. Believe it or not, I picked up some how-to from those movies, too.
       The highlight of the night, though, was we all got tattoos. Real ones, not the fakes like we had gotten before. Kyle and Tim had said they wanted 'em, and sure enough they got what they wanted. Kyle got him a little monkey that was about two inches tall, and Tim got a bunch of bananas right opposite Kyle's monkey. Kyle made the guy let them get down to their briefs and to hold each other face to face so he could measure where each tattoo had to go.
       "I want the monkey to be able to eat the bananas," he told the guy.
       The guy laughed and said he thought they were a pretty damn cute couple. Keith was kind of like our big brother that night, and he made the guy show him his license and inspection papers from the health department before he would let him get started.
       "Are you going to get one," Brian asked me.
       "I might. You want you one," I asked him.
       "Yeah. Sort of," he said.
       "Well, this would be as good a place as any to get it," I said. "We've got money, and they'll be all healed up by the time we get home. What do you want?"
       "I want a teddy bear," he said.
       "What should I get?"
       "I don't know. What goes with a teddy bear?"
       "Get a frog with his tongue sticking out," Kyle said. "Like he's licking the teddy bear."
       So that's what we did. It didn't take long, and it stung and burned some but not bad. The guy gave us some cream to use on 'em for a couple of days, and he put a bandage on each one. He told us we could take those off the next morning before we took a shower.
       Kyle went first. He kept his shirt and briefs on, but he had to drop his jeans down so the guy could get to the spot where he wanted it. Kyle was sort of lying down so the man could work, and it didn't take long for him to grow him a big banana of his own in his underwear. The guy joked about it and eased us all. Kyle didn't even get embarrassed. Of course, Tim, Brian, and I did the self-same thing when it was our turns, so it was a good thing we weren't the modest types. I could tell Keith and Tony were getting a kick out of the four little redneck fags come to the big city. The first thing we bought was tattoos. They were some really nice guys, though, and I could tell they liked us a lot.
       * * *
       We said good night to Keith and Tony around 12:30, and they went their way and we went ours. We were back in our hotel room by one o'clock, and I was bushed. Kyle still had plenty of life in him, though, because he had had a good nap on the plane. There was a VCR in our room, and Kyle wanted to watch one of the movies he had bought that night. I figured I'd be asleep before the first guy in the movie shot his cum, but that isn't what happened.
       We got naked and got in bed with our boyfriends. Kyle fired it up with the remote, and before I knew it we were all hard as rocks watching those boys suck and fuck on the TV. Each of us jerked our boyfriends off, and the next thing I knew Kyle was sound asleep. He wasn't snoring exactly, but the noise he was making was mighty close to it. I looked over at their bed. Tim grinned at me and shook his head like he didn't understand him, either. Tim rolled him on his side facing us, and he spooned up behind Kyle and put his arm around him. Kyle looked really cute when he was sleeping, and, if I hadn't known there was a devil inside, I would have said he looked like an angel.
       Brian was the next to go. I switched off the movie with the remote and snuggled up with him. It had been warm enough during the day, so we had opened the window a little bit to let in some fresh air. It got colder as night progressed, and it sure felt good to have that sweet little warm thing next to me. The last thing I remember thinking before I took the count was how lucky I was. I had everything I needed or wanted, I had great friends, I was happy, I was having fun, and I was in love. It couldn't get any better.

Chapter 17

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I had flown on airplanes all my life, so I never thought about it that Justin and Brian hadn't. Jus was really cute when we hit a little pocket of turbulence right before we landed in Atlanta, and he looked like he was really scared. Turbulence was second nature to me, and I had been through some really bad storms a time or two. I watch the flight attendants when turbulence hits. I figure if anybody knows to be worried about it, they do. They deal with that shit day in and day out, so if something is out of the ordinary, it's going to register on their faces pretty quick. They didn't even flinch that day.
       Our stay in New York was unbelievably fun. The four of us had already had plenty of fun on trips, but that was the first time we were on our own. My parents, and probably Doc, too, knew Tim and I could handle a trip that big on our own, but I knew Kevin and Rick had put a lot of trust in me by letting Justin and Brian go. I knew they expected me to be in charge and to make good decisions for the four of us, and I prayed to God I could live up to what they expected of me. I wasn't scared, and I knew I had three really smart guys behind me if I needed them, but I still felt it was pretty much on my shoulders.
       Our best stroke of luck was making friends with Keith and Tony. God, were they nice guys! Keith was the concierge, and he made up an itinerary for us. Tony was the bell hop that we got by random shot when we checked in, and he and Keith were boyfriends. They took us out to Greenwich Village Saturday night, and we had a ball. We came upon this tattoo parlor, and we all wanted to get inked. I had wanted a tattoo for years, and I finally got one that night. It was a little grinning monkey right above the waist ban of my briefs on my left side. People would be able to see it when I wore a Speedo, and, of course, my brothers could see it when I was in just my briefs on Sunday mornings and other times. Naked, it was there for everybody.

       For Sunday, Keith planned this for us:

           10:15--Solemn Pontifical High Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral; be there by 9:30. He had asked if we were Catholics, and I told him we were. I wasn't officially one yet, but I considered myself one.
           11:30--Lunch at a deli in Rockefeller Plaza
           1:30--Visit The Cloisters, a medieval museum, followed by general touring around
           8:30--Les Miserables, a play; supper after the play

   Monday
           Morning--UN Building tour
           Afternoon--Ground Zero;
           Night--Times Square

   Tuesday
           Morning--Statue of Liberty, shopping, general sightseeing on foot
           Afternoon--Ellis Island
           Night--The Lion King, a play; supper after the play
   Wednesday
           Morning--Radio City Music Hall tour; MTV Network tour
           Afternoon--American Museum of Natural History
           Night--Dinner at 21

   Thursday
           Early Morning--Today Show in Rockefeller Plaza; be there at 6:15
           Morning--Metropolitan Museum of Art
           Afternoon--Taping of David Letterman Show; Empire State Building
           Night--Movie at Radio City Music Hall; supper after the show

   Friday
           All Day--Shopping and/or Bronx Zoo and/or South Street Seaport
           Night--The Graduate, a play; supper after the play

   Saturday
           Catch plane at 10:30; be there by 8:30.

       I had been to a few of those places before, but I didn't remember them very good. That was my fifth trip to New York, but I had always come with my parents right after Christmas. My mom really liked to shop, and my dad and Clay and I had done mostly sports-related stuff during the day on those trips. I had skated on the rink in Rockefeller Plaza a whole lot, and I had sledded in Central Park a good bit, too. Two years we had rented horses and had ridden around in the park, and Dad had taken us to Coney Island once, but it was pretty much deserted. The last time I had been there was when I was fifteen and Clay was eighteen. They had let us go down to Times Square by ourselves, and we spent hours going into the arcades and shops and other places down there.
       We followed Keith's plan for us pretty close. We all decided we wanted to go to all three things they had listed for Friday, and that was a great day.
       Seeing Ground Zero was pretty emotional for all of us, and we all cried.
       "Y'all realize we wouldn't be together if this hadn't happened, don't you," I said to them.
       "Get out of here, Kyle," Justin said.
       "I'm serious, man. If this hadn't happened, Doc would never have had to go on the ship. If he hadn't had to go on the ship, Tim would never have had to stay with Kevin and Rick. I would never have gotten to know them so good, and they would never have been able to take you in, Jus," I said. "It was their experience taking care of Tim that let the child welfare people know they could do it."
       "Shit. You're right. And if they hadn't got me, they would never have got Brian," he said.
       "That's right, Bubba. This whole Ground Zero thing is sad as hell, I know, but some good came out of it for us, at least," I said.
       Those boys were pretty quiet right then. I knew they were sad about what had happened to cause Ground Zero, but they were also thinking about what I had just said. I knew it was a terrible thing for our country and for a lot of people, but it had worked out pretty damn good for us, even if we didn't realize it.
       "Changing the subject a little bit, I once went to the top of one of those buildings that used to be here," I said.
       "Nuh-uh," Justin said.
       "Yup. I don't know which one, but there used to be a restaurant at the top of one of them, and we ate there one time. I was about thirteen, I guess."
       "What was it like," Tim asked.
       "Well, the ride up was awesome. It was an express elevator, and my stomach did a couple of flip-flops, it went so fast. Once up there, it was just a nice restaurant. You were supposed to be able to see for miles because the walls were all glass. Well, the night we went, it was all fog or clouds or something. All we could see was this gray mass that looked kind of like gray flannel," I said. "Just my luck."
       "You've done a lot, haven't you," Brian said.
       "Not that much," I said.
       "Kyle, don't pretend with us, man. We know you've done a lot, and we know you're rich. The fact that you're just a regular, ordinary guy is one of the things that's so great about you. I'm pure white trash, and I know it. I ain't worth shit. But you still love me, and I'm still your brother and best friend even though you're somebody."
       What he said really made me mad.
       "Goddamn it, Justin, you are my brother and you are my best friend. And my best friend and my brother are not trash, ever. Don't you ever fucking say that about yourself again, you hear me? I mean it, Bubba. I won't put up with you putting yourself down like that any more. You are one of the finest people I've ever known, Justin, and I love you. Don't put yourself down anymore," I said.
       He came toward me to hug me, with tears in his eyes.
       "Stop. Don't hug me till you're ready to stop putting yourself down," I said.
       "Kyle, you don't even know, do you," he said.
       "Know what?"
       "The effect you have on people? How you lift people up?"
       "Justin, I want to hug you bad right now, man, but I'm not going to do it until you say you won't put yourself down like that anymore," I said. I had to be firm, and I knew it.
       "I won't do it, but you've got to help me with that, okay?"
       "I'll always help you," I said. And then we hugged tight.

(Tim's Perspective)
       I couldn't believe we all got tattoos! In fact, I still can't believe it. Kyle and I had both talked about getting them, but I pretty much thought we'd never get around to it. We had decided we wanted to get our nipples pierced, and we waited months before we actually did it. I figured that something as permanent as a tattoo would take us years.
       The guy had put bandages on them, and he said it was as much to protect our clothes from any ink that might seep out as anything. He told us we could take the bandages off before our showers the next morning. When we woke up, Kyle couldn't wait to get those bandages off. Brian and Justin were still asleep, and Kyle and I were naked in bed.
       "Let's take 'em off," he whispered.
       "Okay, but you go first," I whispered back.
       He worked the tape on it a little bit, but then he just ripped it off. He made a face when he did it, like it hurt or something. I looked at it the same time he did, and it really did look pretty cute. It was a little monkey with a big grin on his face. It was just an outline in black ink, not all colored in or anything like that.
       "Now you do it," he said.
       I was more cautious taking my bandage off than he had been, and I was almost afraid to look at it. Mine was a little bunch of bananas for the monkey to eat. I knew the banana Kyle liked to eat, and he even had to peel it to get to the good stuff.
       "Does yours hurt," I asked him.
       He touched his gently.
       "It's a little tender, but not bad. How about yours?"
       I touched mine, too, and it hurt a little but not much.
       "Let's don't tell Kevin and Rick about them until they see them for themselves, okay," he said.
       "Okay. I wonder if they'll even notice them," I said.
       "They will sooner or later. I didn't ask my parents if it was all right, did you?"
       "I talked to my dad about it, and he said it was okay as long as he couldn't see it when I had my clothes on," I said.
       "I don't think my folks will care. Of course, it's too late now, even if they do care."
       "Is the monkey hungry," I asked.
       He grinned real cute and chuckled a little.
       "This monkey is always hungry for banana," he said.
       He eased me down and eased himself on top of me. I loved to feel Kyle's skin next to mine, especially when it was all warm in bed like it was that morning. He didn't move around. He kissed me with so much passion that he almost made me come. He scraped his chin on my face real lightly, and the stubble sort of tickled. He did that every time we made love in the morning because he knew it really turned me on, for some reason.
       "I love doing this with you," he said. "It's like you make me a whole person. Let's match up."
       I knew what he meant by that because we had done it before. We got our arms, legs, chests, dicks, and everything else perfectly lined up with one another. Kyle and I were exactly the same size, although he had more muscle than I did and weighted about fifteen pounds more than I did, so it was pretty easy to do. Our breathing became the same, and I even think our heartbeats were the same. He licked my ear, and that always drove me crazy. I concentrated real hard on feeling every part of his body on top of mine, and it was like we melted into one another. Kyle entered me. Not with his penis, but with his whole body, his whole self. When we had done that before, he had said he had had the same sense of being one person with me.
       We lay there a long time. I could feel the hair on Kyle's chest tickling me. The little loops in our nipples were touching one another, too, and my nipples were sending waves of sex energy through me. I hoped Kyle's were doing the same to him. I could feel his pubic hair on the underside of my dick, and that really felt good.
       We lay there for a good while, not talking, not moving, just soaking each other up. The tension down below was building all the while we were like that, and, without warning, we both climaxed at the same second. Kyle whimpered a little, and I knew he was having a good one. Mine was spectacular.
       The orgasm sort of broke the mood, but that was okay. He kissed me some more, working that tongue of his against mine. God, I loved him! I could have eaten him up to get him inside me.
       "Let's get our shower before the others wake up," he said softly.
       "Okay," I whispered back.
       It was really rare that we showered together and didn't fool around if we had the time, but we didn't do it that morning. We were both pretty drained from what had just happened, so we just washed each other. I loved touching Kyle, and he let me do it any way I wanted to. He always said his body belonged to me, and it was at times like that that I really knew what he meant by that.
       Justin came in to pee while we were still in the shower. He told us good morning, but he didn't make a crack about us being lovebirds or anything like that. Justin and Kyle loved to tease each other, but they had great respect for each other, and they never took it too far.
       We dried off after our shower, and we went into the bedroom naked.
       "Well, look at this. They really look good, y'all. They look terrific, in fact," Justin said.
       "Thanks," we both said, grinning like fools.
       "Let's see yours," Kyle said.
       They hadn't taken their bandages off yet. They did it then, though, and theirs looked good, too. None of ours had any color. In fact, all four were just outlines. The guy in the shop said they wouldn't fade, but he also said the intricate ones with lots of color got to be really ugly after a long time because the ink all tended to run together. He said ours probably wouldn't do that, and they wouldn't look ugly if they did smear a little bit. He told us to make sure we didn't get fat because that would make them ugly, too.
       "You guys were mighty quiet making love this morning," Jus said.
       "Were you awake," Kyle asked.
       He nodded.
       "Come on, Brian. Let's get a shower," Jus said, and they went off to the bathroom. They were in there a pretty long time, and we heard them lock the door. We knew they were making love in the shower, and that meant all four of us had a good start to the day.
       * * *
       Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral was like no Mass I had ever been to. There was a cardinal, two bishops, three regular priests, and two deacons. The choir sounded like something on a CD, and the church itself was spectacular. I had been in Gothic cathedrals in Europe, and that one most reminded me of those. It wasn't as big as those, but it was big. The cardinal said a nice homily, but it was a little long. He introduced some celebrities, or people who were supposed to be celebrities, but I didn't recognize any of their names.
       After Mass we ate lunch in a restaurant a couple of blocks down from the church. We all got Rubin sandwiches with French fries, and Kyle also got a bowl of black bean soup. Justin made fun of him and said he would be farting all afternoon. He didn't, though.
       After we ate, we took a cab to The Cloisters. It was a long way from where we were. Keith had told us he thought we would like that museum because it was all about medieval times. I expected it to have a bunch of stuff about knights and dragons and the Round Table and stuff like that, but it turned out to be mostly religious. It had some beautiful things in it, and the building itself was pretty cool, too. We walked around a little bit inside the place and in the gardens. Then we went over and looked at the Hudson River. One of the things I liked best in the museum was a gold lion with a faucet in the middle of his chest. They said they used to use it to pour water over the priest's hands at Mass and when people wanted to wash up before dinner. There were a bunch of stained glass windows, and some of those were pretty spectacular. They had a bunch of rooms with tapestries in them. They were supposed to be treasures, but most of them were so faded looking that you could barely tell what the picture was.
       "This better get better," Justin said at one point.
       He made us all laugh.
       "I think this is the kind of place Grandpa and Doc would eat up," Kyle said.
       "If they ate this up, they'd get fed up for sure," Justin said.
       That made all of us laugh loud, and some people sort of stared at us. We didn't stay more than about an hour at that place. I was glad we went, though, so I could tell my dad we did some culture stuff, plus we saw a lot more of the city on the cab ride up there.
       Instead of going back to our hotel, we had the cab driver take us all the way down to Chinatown. It wasn't on the list Keith gave us, but we had passed it on the bus tour and Kyle knew about it, too. That was a lot more interesting to us, but it seemed really dirty. It was still a pretty awesome place, though, with lots of Chinese buildings and gates and temples and shrines and things like that.
       There were a million shops and a whole lot of stuff to look at, but we really didn't buy much there. Kyle bought an NYPD cap, though. It was black with a design in gold on the front, and the bill was already arched in like he liked them. He put it right on, and that became his signature cap for that trip. He always looked real good in a baseball cap, and he wore that one the whole time we were there. That black against his skin looked great.
       After we walked around in Chinatown for a while, we got to a neighborhood that was called Little Italy. There were a lot of restaurants and shops there, too, and they all had sort of an Italian theme. We got some pastries in an Italian bakery, and they were just about as good as any pastry I had ever eaten. In both Chinatown and Little Italy there were a whole lot of people on the street, walking and shopping. A bunch of restaurants had tables and chairs out on the sidewalk, but it was a little too cold to sit down for too long. We got cones of Italian ice cream, too, and it was soooooo good.
       After that we went to a neighborhood called Soho, which I think stood for South of Houston, a street, not the city. In fact, they said it "House-ton" and not "Hews-ton." There were some really interesting shops in that neighborhood, and there were a bunch of art galleries, too. Kyle went bananas (hehehe!) when we went into one gallery that had photography. He ended up looking at every single picture like he was going to buy it or something. He talked to the lady who worked there, and he wanted to know everything about the people who had taken the pictures.
       "See, this is what I want to be able to do some day," he said.
       "Well, you're already on the right track, Flash," Justin said.
       "Mine aren't this good, yet," he said.
       "I don't know so much about that, Kyle," Jus said. "I mean, some of yours are mighty damn good, Bubba."
       Kyle grinned, and it was pretty obvious that he liked what Justin had said.
       "Thanks, Bubba."
       The next gallery was photography, too. One whole wall was of nudes, and most of them were men. They were great pictures, and you really couldn't see the equipment on most of the guys.
       "I'll bet the artist is gay," Kyle said.
       "Do you think Kevin would let you take pictures of us like these," I asked him.
       "I dunno, but I sure do want to try," he said. "I can't wait till you turn eighteen, Babe. There won't be any stopping me."
       The guy working there was listening to what we were saying.
       "I couldn't help overhearing you. Are you a photographer," he asked Kyle.
       "Yes, sir, sort of. I'm just learning, though, really. I have a digital and a single lens reflex camera that I just got."
       "I wish I could see some of your work," he said.
       "Do you have a computer with an Internet connection," Kyle asked.
       "Yes. Is your work on the Web?"
       "Yes, sir. Would you like to see it?"
       "Yes, I would. What's the URL?"
       "Well, the site is password protected, but I'll show it to you, if you have time right now."
       "It looks like your friends are ready to leave," he said. He was referring to Justin and Brian.
       "Tim, tell them I'll meet them back at the hotel. Tell them to be there no later than 6:30, okay, Babe?"
       "Sure. I'm staying with you, though," I said.
       I went over to the others and told them what Kyle had said. They said they were cool with that, so they left that gallery and went off on their own.
       Kyle opened the Web site for the guy.
       "This is pretty impressive stuff," he said. "How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?"
       "I'm seventeen," Kyle said. "We're from Florida, and we're here for Spring Break."
       "Well, that's a switch," the guy said. "Coming north from Florida for Spring Break."
       "Yeah, I know," Kyle replied.
       The man continued looking at Kyle's pictures on the Web site.
       "I heard you tell your friend that you can't wait until he turns eighteen," the man said. "Why is that?"
       "It's pretty complicated, but I gave my word I wouldn't take any pictures of us naked except in natural settings like swimming or something like that. We're all under eighteen," Kyle said. "I want to do some nude pictures of all of us, but especially of him. By the way, my name is Kyle Goodson, and this is my boyfriend, Tim Murphy."
       We shook hands, and he said his name was Chet Marston.
       "Did you say your boyfriend? Are you gay?"
       Kyle nodded like it was nothing to him.
       "I heard you say that you wondered if the artist that took the nudes is gay, and, yes, I am," Chet said.
       "Cool," Kyle said.
       I could tell the man was surprised as hell that Kyle admitted being gay so freely and that it didn't seem to bother him to say it.
       "Are you in college," Chet asked.
       "No, sir. I'm a junior in high school," Kyle said, "and Tim's a sophomore."
       "Are you thinking about majoring in photography," he asked.
       "Can you major in that?"
       "At some colleges you can," he said.
       "I'm planning on taking business in college. Maybe I can take some photography courses, too, though," Kyle said.
       "Well, you really should. Your work is quite perceptive, and with some instruction, it could be very, very good," he said.
       "I've never thought of it as work before, but I know what you mean. Like a work of art, right?"
       "Yes. Do you have any darkroom experience?"
       "No, sir. Mostly I've been using my digital. His dad gave it to me for my birthday last November. I just got my Minolta a couple of weeks ago. Where would I learn how to do darkroom stuff," Kyle asked.
       "You could take a course, or you could do what I did."
       "What did you do?"
       "I found a professional photographer who was willing to teach me, and I spent hours in the darkroom refining my skills," he said.
       "Babe, I'll bet that guy who took our pictures might do that," I said.
       "Maybe so. We had portraits made of us as Christmas gifts for our families. That's who he's talking about," Kyle said.
       "So, you're out to your families?"
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said.
       I could tell the guy was impressed.
       "How long have you two been together," he asked.
       "It was a year in January, but we're thinking this is it for us for life," Kyle said.
       "Oh, my," the man said. "Here's my card. It has my e-mail address on it. Please send me some of your pictures, and I'll try to evaluate them for you, if you want me to, that is."
       "Oh, man, that would be fantastic," Kyle said. "Thanks so much for taking so much interest, but why are you doing that?"
       "Kyle, I'll be honest with you. I see a great deal of talent in your work. When I was a young man, the photographer who got me started was gay, and he told me then that he expected me to help out other young gay photographers as payback to him when and if I could. That's what this is all about. Besides, one day I might be able to represent you."
       "Thanks. What does that mean?"
       "Hang you work in this gallery. Represent you as your sales outlet," he said.
       "Damn!"
       I knew that guy, like everybody else who talked to him for more than two minutes, really liked Kyle. He laughed a little when Kyle said that.
       Kyle gave him his e-mail address, too, and he promised to send some pictures as soon as we got back. We chatted another few minutes, and then we left.
       "Can you believe that, Babe," he asked as soon as we were back on the street.
       Kyle was as excited as he ever gets, and that's pretty excited.
       The play that night was all singing, but it was really good. We ate at a place called Sardi's, which is famous, I think. There were gobs of pictures in the place, including a whole bunch of caricature drawings. I didn't get most of them. The food was real good, though.
       Kyle was pretty quiet at first that night at dinner. Justin even asked him if he was sick or something, but Kyle just said he had a lot on his mind. I knew he was thinking about what that guy at the gallery had said that afternoon. He and Justin both ordered drinks before dinner, and the waiter brought them without even asking to see ID. I knew they both had good fake ID, but they didn't need to use them. He loosened up while he was having his drink, and he started talking to us and joking with us again. The three of us depended on him to have a good time, and if he wasn't in a mood to have a good time, then we didn't have a good time, either.
       It was pretty late when we got in bed.
       "Babe, I want to make love to you," he said, "if you aren't too tired."
       "Let's wait until tomorrow morning, okay?"
       "Are you real tired," he whispered to me.
       "Yeah. Let's go to sleep," I whispered back, and we did.

(Brian's Perspective)
       That trip to New York was the best for me. I might have been born there, but I didn't know a thing about the place until then. I felt pretty safe with Kyle and Justin around, though.
       The flight up there was a lot of fun. I had never been on a plane before, and that by itself was an adventure. When we got to the city, though, and saw all those people and all those incredibly big buildings, I felt like I was soaring or something. I loved Kyle to death, but sometimes I thought he might be a borderline redneck. That was before I saw him in action, though. He handled Sky Caps and flight attendants and cab drivers and the guy at the hotel desk and the bellhop like a grown man. I swear to God. Then he got the guy at the concierge desk to help us out, and he even got him to go out with us that night. He was unbelievable.
       Justin and I got tattoos, and so did Tim and Kyle. I got a teddy bear, and it looked pretty good. The rest of them said they liked it, too. Jus got a frog with a big tongue opposite my teddy bear, and I guess that fit pretty well. It was small enough that a band-aide could hide it, if I wanted to hide it, so it was okay.
       I had thought I was in love with Justin before the trip, but the more I was with him, the more I knew I loved him. He was so funny that he kept us all laughing, but he was also really nice to me all the time. He was nice to me at home, too, but on that trip it was almost like I was more important to him than he was to himself. He and Kyle were best friends, but I became his second best friend on that trip. I don't mean second as in "second best"; I mean it more like "other best friend." The four of us were like two couples, and he made sure everything was all right for me before anything else. I knew he loved me before we went, but I think it was on that trip that I realized he really loved me.
       On Monday morning we went on a tour of the United Nations Building. That was a real highlight for me.
       "I don't even know what this is all about," Jus said when we first got there.
       "It's about the nations of the world coming together to try to make this world a better place," I said.
       "Oh," Jus said. That wasn't really funny, but he was so cute the way he said it that I laughed.
       We saw the Security Council chamber and the General Assembly in actual session. We saw all the art work that is everywhere in the building. Then we saw the pendulum that charts the rotation of the earth. It was hung from someplace really high in that building, and it traces little lines in a bed of sand. As we stood there we saw the lines moving to form a circle. Seeing that thing chart the rotation of the earth on its axis made me realize how the forces of the whole planet come together in that building, at least potentially, and that made me cry a little at how important that place was.
       But the real tears were yet to come. That afternoon we went to Ground Zero. What happened there was bad enough for me emotionally, but then Kyle pointed out that we were all together basically because of what had happened there. That absolutely tore me up, and I cried openly and a lot. After my other family got rid of me, my Emerald Beach family took me in, loved me, cared for me, and gave me everything. None of that would have happened, except for my real family kicking me out, if September 11th hadn't taken place. I lost it completely.
       Justin put his arm around my shoulders on my right side, and Kyle put his arm around me on my left. Kyle started massaging my throat, and his touch reassured me and made me know it was going to be okay for me. We stopped and hugged for a long time, and I slowly and gradually came back to normal. A lot of other people there were doing the same thing.
       "Bri, take a walk with me, okay," Kyle said. He looked at Justin, and Justin nodded.
       I didn't say anything, but I walked away from Justin and Tim with Kyle. He didn't say anything for a long time, either. He just held his arm around my shoulder, like he was supporting me or something. I started crying again very hard. It felt so good to have that strong boy there with me, propping me up, giving me support. I started reacting a little bit sexually to what he was doing, but it was in no way a sexual situation. I got embarrassed at what was happening to me. Kyle noticed and giggled.
       "You know you're precious to us, don't you?"
       I think I sort of nodded.
       "Brian, we don't give you enough attention. I hog it all. I'm always too damn excited and too damn wanting to take charge of everything. Kevin and Rick love you, man, and I know Justin does. And you're the little brother I never had, and you're Tim's best friend. I know you need to cry right now, but we won't let you down, little Buddy."
       That only made me cry more.
       "Let it out, dude," he said. "This is a place for tears, man. Your tears are happy and sad, sort of, at the same time. We're your family, Brian. And a family sticks together."
       I wanted to say something like, Kyle, you really don't get it. Justin was right. You lift people up, you make them whole, just like Jeff said. You heal us, and all you seem to care about is having fun. I didn't say that, though, and I also knew it wasn't true. He cared about us before anything else. I calmed down while he was holding me. He and I walked back to Jus and Tim, and Justin hugged me.
       "I'm sorry I lost it like that," I said.
       "Let's get the fuck out of this bad place," Kyle said. "Let's go have some fun."
       That night we went to Times Square. I wasn't exactly sure why they called it that or anything, but we had a great time. There were a whole lot of people, and we went to a lot of arcades and shops and other stuff. Justin and I held hands on the street, and nobody seemed to care. I felt like I was somebody and nobody at the same time, and it was totally great. We got our pictures taken in several picture booths. Sometimes it was just me and Justin, and sometimes it was all four of us. We laughed and joked and teased and just had a great time.
       On Tuesday, we went to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. I had learned a lot about both of those places in school, but actually being there really made me think, especially after having gone to the United Nations and Ground Zero the day before. I didn't have any idea about my ancestors or anything like that, but I was sure somebody in my family had come to the United States through Ellis Island a long time ago looking for freedom. It was another real emotional experience for me. I thought about the freedom of spirit Kevin and Rick, and Justin and Tim, and especially Kyle, gave me, and I cried some more.
       That night we went to see The Lion King, and that was awesome.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       We didn't eat very good Monday. We grabbed some food for lunch at the UN, but it was just a burger and fries, that kind of thing. I thought the UN Building was pretty cool, but the Ground Zero was pretty damn depressing. After that, I had to get those boys somewhere where we could have some fun, and quick. Our destination was Times Square.
       We found some photo booths, and we got our pictures taken. We were all laughing and making faces and having fun. I knew I could scan those and put them on the Web site, and it was a blast doing that. That was just what we needed, too, after Ground Zero. Fun.
       I love arcade stuff, but my favorite is pool. Tim and Brian wanted to play video-type games, but me and Justin wanted to shoot some pool. He had a pretty good eye, but Jus raised up every time before he finished his shot. I had noticed it at home, but I hadn't said anything before. That time, though, I told him about it.
       "Don't raise up like that, man," I said.
       "What are you talking about?"
       I showed him what I was talking about.
       "Keep that head down till the cue ball hits the one you're aiming at," I said. "If you raise your head before the shot is done, you move your mark on the cue ball. The only thing that's supposed to move is your right arm. Nothing else."
       He tried it a few times, and he got to where he was doing it right.
       "Damn, I see what you mean," he said.
       I saw these two boys watching us. They had been playing at the table next to us, but they finished and turned in their balls. They watched us some more.
       "Hey," one of them said as we finished a game. "You guys interested in a little team competition," he asked. They were a little older than we were, but not much.
       "We might be, but we're not all that good," I said.
       "This is friendly stuff, man," the one guy said. His name turned out to be Joe, and the other guy was named Eddie.
       "Sure. Why not," I said.
       Jus and I introduced ourselves to them.
       We racked the balls and lagged for break. Eddie won the lag. We were playing Eight Ball, the game we played the most, and he sunk a stripe on the break. He missed on his second shot, and Jus shot next and sunk a solid. He went after the two-ball and didn't sink it. It was Joe's turn, and he missed. I sunk a solid and missed on the next ball. It was back and forth like that, and Justin and I ended up winning that game, but just barely.
       "Damn, I can't believe I missed so fucking many shots," Joe said.
       "I know," Eddie said. "Me, either."
       "I play better when I got money on the game," Joe said.
       "Yeah, me, too," Eddie agreed. "Let's each put up five bucks on this next one. Maybe that'll motivate us."
       "I think we're being hustled," I said to Jus in private. "Let's take their asses. Keep that head down, okay," I said. "They'll let us win the first few until they think we're cocky and over confident, and then they'll try to run the table on us. Just stay cool, okay?"
       My buddy was all about that, and he knew just exactly what I was talking about. They lost a few games, and we lost a couple, too. We were still breaking even more or less. Then Eddie said,
       "Shit, I've got a date tomorrow night, and I need money. Can you guys put up $100 each?"
       "Yeah," I said. "It's my break, right?"
       "Right," Eddie said. "Shit, I forgot about that," he whispered to Joe, but I heard him.
       Well, son, I broke and ran that fucking table. Nobody else got a shot. They paid up, but I could tell they damn sure didn't like it.
       "Thanks for the games, guys," I said. "This has been great."
       "Whoa, dude. You're just going to walk away? Let us buy you a beer and talk about this, man," Joe said.
       "It's getting kind of late, you know? Where we come from down in Florida, it's a pretty late night," I said.
       "Hell, it's only 9:30 man. The night is young," Eddie said.
       Justin fished his pack of smokes out of the back pocket of his jeans. He lit one up and tossed the pack to me. I lit one up, too. Joe and Eddie had both been smoking, and they seemed a little surprised that we smoked.
       "Come on, Kyle," Jus said. "We've got time to play a few more games."
       "I guess," I said. "Same bet?"
       "Let's double it," Eddie said. "I need money for tomorrow night."
       "I guess we can do that," I said. "Still my break, right?"
       They both nodded, but I could tell they didn't like the idea.
       "Let's put the money on the table first, this time," I said. They put it up, but they watched it close.
       I broke and ran the table again. Jus grabbed the money before they could go for it.
       "I can't believe these lucky shots I've been getting," I said.
       "Lucky, my ass," Joe said. "You guys have been hustling us." He was pissed.
       "No way, dude," Jus said. "You guys wanted to play us for money. We've got a pool table at home, and we take it serious, you know?"
       "I'm down three hundred bucks, man," Eddie said. "I need a piece of you, dude. I need some satisfaction."
       "You've got a right hand. That ought to satisfy you."
       That was Brian's voice. I spun around, and he and Tim were right behind us. I grinned at them. They had our backs.
       "Let's get the fuck out of here," Eddie said. They turned and left. They stiffed the bar for their tab, too.

Chapter 18

(Kyle's Perspective)
       We did a lot of cool stuff during that week. The three plays we went to were probably the highlight for me, but every new thing we did was better than the last. I would say the low point for us was probably the Metropolitan Museum of Art, although we ended up spending about two hours there. The Natural History Museum was a whole lot better. I had actually been there once before, and I remembered the dinosaurs from the first time. It was good to see them again, like visiting old friends.
       Tim and Brian both went ape shit in that place, and they wanted to get the taped tour. I discouraged that because I knew it would take a long time. Justin and I actually stepped outside a couple of times to have a smoke, but those other boys were keen to read everything they saw. My motto is, in a big museum like that, read the stuff if the exhibit really interests you, and that's all. Tim ended up buying a series of videotapes about the exhibits, and I hope to God he won't want me to watch them with him. I'd do it if he wanted me to, but I know I cannot be held responsible for any naps I take while watching them. I know Grandpa and Doc would be all over those tapes.
       One of the things I did before we ever left Emerald Beach was make a list for each guy of the people they had to buy souvenirs for. I wrote down the amount of money that I thought was right to spend on each one and some suggestions of what to get. My mother used to do that for me and Clay before every big trip we ever went on, and it was a godsend. There were a lot of people we could all go in on for, like Jerry, Pat, Mont, Terry, Fred, Sam, Chad, and Gage. Me and Tim needed to get something for Philip and Ryan, and Tim and Brian needed to get something for Blake and Riley. Jus and I would take care of Morgan. There were a few more people on that list, including the most important ones: Kevin, Rick, my parents, Doc, Sonya, and our brother Jeff. We'd all go in together on something for Kevin, Rick, and Jeff. Tim and I would handle my parents, Doc, and Sonya.
       I gave them the lists right after the bus tour on the first day we were there.
       "I want all this stuff bought by Tuesday night, at the latest," I said. "We'll put all of it in Federal Express Wednesday morning addressed to me at Kevin and Rick's house. I'll send it overnight so it'll be sure to be there when we get home Saturday."
       "Who made you boss of this," Justin asked.
       "I made myself boss. You got a better plan? If you do, present it now," I said.
       He and I couldn't even look at one another because we knew that if we did we'd both bust up laughing.
       "No, I think this is a very good plan," he said. "I was just wondering, is all."
       That time we did bust up laughing.
       "Just about every place we're going will have a gift shop," I said. "I think we should get Jerry, Pat, Mont, and those other guys baseball caps that have something to do with September 11th. Tim and Brian, y'all might want to get those for Blake and Riley, and me and Justin will get the same for Morgan. We can get Chad and Gage CD's of the music from the plays we're going to. They'll love that, and I know they won't want caps. We can get Doc something at Ellis Island; he'll love that. A book or video or something. Tim, you and I can get my parents three or four of those Cat's Meow replicas of buildings in the city. My mom collects those things, and my dad don't give a shit what he gets. We can get him a cap, too. We all need to get something really nice for Kevin, Rick, and Jeff."
       "Kyle, this is going to take up all our time, man," Justin said.
       "No, it's not. Not if you follow the plan, Jus. But if you see something that is just perfect for somebody and I hadn't thought of it, buy it for them. This way we'll get it all done fast," I said.
       "Why are we even buying people souvenirs," Brian asked.
       "I think it's a way to tell them we care about them and were thinking about them even on our busy trip," I said. "It's just one of those things you have to do, Bri."
       "Everybody loves souvenirs, Bubba," Tim said to Brian. "It's just a custom that you bring people souvenirs from a trip like this one."
       I got with Tony the bellhop Tuesday morning and told him we needed a couple of Fed Ex boxes and some styrofoam packing peanuts for that night. I gave him $20 as a tip for doing that. They were in our room when we got back from our day.
       We got out all the stuff we had bought to pack it up. We had done a good job of getting it all. For Kevin we got a nice coffee table book of the lobbies of all the famous hotels in New York. He could put that on the coffee table in his secretary's office, if nothing else. For Rick we got a cap, a tee shirt, and a pair of running shorts from the New York Marathon, and we got both guys NYPD caps. For Jeff we got a four-CD set of music and songs about New York, and we got him a beautiful poster of The Lion King play. For Sonya we got a really nice set of crystal NYC coasters. We all had something for everybody on our list, and we didn't have to fool with souvenirs after that night. We packed it all up, addressed it, and took it down to the front desk for them to put in Fed Ex first thing the next morning. I felt good about what we had gotten, and that was a load off my mind.

(Tim's Perspective)
       I was so glad Kyle took charge of the souvenir buying. I figured Justin and Brian didn't really know about doing that, but Kyle had it all organized. That was just about the most painless souvenir shopping I had ever done, and I had done plenty on trips before that one.
       We did some incredible things on that trip. I thought about that Best and Worst game that Kevin had made us play on the way home from New Orleans at Christmas, and I don't think I could have played that after that trip. I had been to a lot of big cities with my dad, but I know I never had more fun than I did on that trip.
       And one of the best things about it was, the four of us got so incredibly close. We were all best friends before we ever went, but after that trip we were bound together like a four-headed person, or something. I felt like I could go anywhere by myself after that trip, and I knew Kyle could. We all thought of Kyle as our leader, and on that trip he proved he was, over and over. I knew Kyle was a boy, just like I was, but he was a boy-man.
       We went to see The Graduate on Friday night, and then we went out to dinner after the play. It was late, but we had had a good snack before the play started. In a way, that was really our fourth meal of the day, not our third. Keith and Tony joined us for dinner that night, and we treated them. They had been so incredibly nice to us, over and above what they had to do or what we tipped them for doing. Kyle got their last names and told them about our family Web site. He said he would get Jeff to add them as users so they could see our pictures of the trip. We invited them to come visit us in Florida. It turned out that Tony had a sister who lived in Pensacola, just about a hundred miles away from us, so we're holding out hope they'll visit one day.
       We weren't on the plane more than ten minutes Saturday morning before Kyle was sound asleep. I really envied him the ability to sleep anywhere. He rested his head on my shoulder, and I thought about how much he loved me and trusted me. Kyle was a very complicated guy. There was no question about that. Sometimes he got on my nerves so bad I could scream, but he never did it on purpose. But even when he annoyed the piss out of me sometimes, I could never get angry with him. He was so fundamentally good and noble and loving, that he made it impossible for me or any of us to ever really get mad at him. He was my lover and my life.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The kids got home from their trip around three on Saturday afternoon. Kyle had insisted on parking his car at the airport so we wouldn't have to stop what we were doing to go get them. We had gone to see them off, of course, but he had driven them in his car, and we had gone in mine. At the time, I thought that was wasteful because he had to pay for a week of parking. On Saturday afternoon, I thought it was a stroke of genius.
       They came boiling into our house so excited that they made us excited that they were home. They hugged and kissed Rick and Jeff and me, and all of them were talking at one time. Kyle had a way of reacting to gifts he received that made the giver of the gift feel that it was the best and most important gift Kyle had ever gotten. That day they were all like that, and I was so happy we had given them that trip.
       Kyle called his parents almost immediately, and they came down to celebrate with us. Tim called George, too. Sonya happened to be there, so they both came down. Rick saw a party developing, so he immediately called the butcher shop in town where he had bought the steaks for that night and ordered more. They were willing to deliver them, along with another cheese cake, more stuffed baked potatoes, and another full container of salad. We were good customers, and they tended to take care of us.
       The boys took their luggage up to their rooms. Tim and Kyle evidently planned on staying at our house that night, and that was fine with us. They came down with the two big Federal Express boxes that had arrived for Kyle that week. When everyone was assembled and drinks had been served, they gave out their souvenirs from the two boxes. They had done a great job of getting things for people that were nice, interesting, and worth having.
       They took turns telling stories about what they had done on the trip, and they kept us in stitches. They had each had $500 in spending money as part of the gift Rick and I had given them. Kyle had turned that into $700 for each of them before they even went to their rooms, and he had turned it into $850 for Justin and him by shooting pool. We had also made them each take $500 more, so they had had ample spending money, considering the plays were paid for in advance. Kyle had wanted them to give us back the money they had left over, but Rick and I categorically refused to take it.
       "You know what this means, don't you, guys," Kyle asked the boys. "Another trip. Real soon."
       "You had a good time, didn't you," Gene asked.
       "Dad, this trip was more than just a good time," Kyle said. "We became more and more like brothers. I'm not saying this very good, but it was so much more than just a good time, Dad."
       "And you didn't have anything to do with that, did you," Sonya said.
       "Ma'am," Kyle asked, as though he didn't understand what she meant.
       "He had everything to do with it, Sonya," Justin said.
       "That's what I thought," she said.
       "Rick, I guess me and you need to start cooking," Kyle said.
       "In a little while, Bubba. I'll tell you when. It's too early yet," Rick said.
       "Will y'all excuse me, please," Kyle said.
       He got up and went upstairs. Tim and Justin looked at each other, and then Tim excused himself, too.
       "What'd he do? Drop a turd in the punch bowl, Justin," Gene asked.
       "Gene!" Rita said. She looked at Sonya for her reaction, and Sonya was laughing just like the rest of us were at Gene's question. When she saw it was all right, Rita laughed, too.
       "No, sir. He was well behaved. He just doesn't like it when people single him out for praise, like Sonya was fixing to do," Jus said. "But, Gene, let me tell you something about that boy of yours. He ain't a boy anymore. He's a man. Time and time again he stood up, got us organized, faced down some tough boys who were pool hustlers, negotiated with the desk clerk and got us each $200 extra, told us what to do when. He was totally in charge, Gene and Rita. He didn't drop no turds in the punch bowl, that's for sure."
       "It sounds like Kyle might be your boyfriend, Justin," Sonya said.
       "No, ma'am. He's Tim's boyfriend, now and forever. We're best friends, though," Jus said.
       "Go get them, Jus," Rick said. "Threaten them, if you have to. Tell them I'm coming up next, if they don't come down here."
       "I think they both had to go to the bathroom, Rick," Jus said.
       "Well, go see about them, anyway, and get them down here as fast as you can," Rick said.
       "Yes, sir," Justin said. And he went upstairs.
       "I think I committed a faux pas," Sonya said.
       "No. Kyle's got to get right with who he is," Brian said. "He doesn't get it about the effect he has on people. Kyle builds people up. He makes them right. He saves people."
       "I'll drink to that," Jeff said. "I think I might be his first miracle."
       "No, I think you're probably number three, Jeff. Justin was number one, Brian was number two, and you're number three," I said.
       "Who will be number four," Sonya asked.
       "Number four is a kid in New Orleans named Seth, Sonya. He's still a work in progress, though, as far as we know," I said.
       "Kevin, you forgot about Chad," Rick said. "He was before Brian, even. Chad is number two."
       "Yeah, you're right. Damn," I said.
       "You are talking about my son, I take it," Rita said. "He saves people? He works miracles? If you're talking about my Kyle, I can assure you I am not the Virgin Mary."
       Everybody laughed hard at that line.
       "Go get them, would you, Babe," Rick said.
       I went upstairs to get the boys. I tapped gently on Tim and Kyle's room, and there was no response. I could hear the TV going, but it wasn't on loud. I opened the door gently and cautiously. I stuck my head around it, not really knowing what to expect. And there I saw all three of them--Tim, Kyle, and Justin--spooned together, fully dressed, sound asleep.
       I nudged Justin a little.
       "Hey, guys. Wake up. We've got a house full of company downstairs, and they're here for you guys. Get up," I said.
       Kyle yawned big and grinned at me.
       "We're up. Did Rick start cooking yet? Do we have raw oysters?"
       "No to both of those questions, Kyle. Y'all get up. I'm not leaving until you're on your feet," I said.
       They stretched and yawned, and eventually they got out of the bed. All three had piss hard-ons that I could see tented in their pants.
       Once they were back downstairs, Kyle explained what had happened.
       "I had to go to the bathroom. Tim came up and turned on the TV and laid down on the bed. He went to sleep while he was waiting for me to finish in the bathroom. I laid down with him for a few minutes, and then Jus came in and laid down, too. We all went to sleep."
       "I hope I didn't embarrass you, Kyle," Sonya said.
       "Oh, no, ma'am," he said. "Not at all. Oh, guess what! We went into an art gallery in Soho on Sunday afternoon. They had photos in there, and I talked to the photographer, who also runs the gallery. He looked at some of my pictures on the Web site, and he said he wants to help me improve. He said he might even represent me some day."
       That boy knew how to change a potentially uncomfortable subject, and that was a social skill that would serve him well in life.
       "Kyle, that's wonderful," Rita said. "Will you have to mail him pictures?"
       "I'll send them through e-mail," Kyle said.
       "Make sure you watermark them, Kyle," Jeff said.
       "What do you mean?"
       "I mean, make sure your name is on every one in a place where he can't take it off without ruining the picture. I'll show you some on the Web of what I'm talking about," Jeff continued.
       "Why do that," Kyle asked.
       "So he won't rip you off, that's why. There's no way you can prove that you took the picture unless you mark it like that. I'll show you how to do it, Bubba," Jeff said.
       "I think Jeff's got a good idea there, Kyle. In fact, you probably ought to do that to the better ones you put on your Web site, too," Gene said.
       "You're right, Gene," Jeff agreed. "This guy's getting good, and there are a lot of unscrupulous people out there who will sell his work without giving him a dime."
       "That guy in New York referred to the pictures as my 'work,' too," Kyle said. "He also said I should learn how to develop pictures myself in a darkroom. He said he became sort of an apprentice to a master photographer, and that's how he learned."
       "Do you know anybody who knows how to develop pictures," I asked.
       "The guy who took our Christmas pictures does," Kyle said. "I was thinking I would ask him to show me some stuff about it."
       "Who was that, son," Gene asked.
       "His name is Charles Finch," Kyle said.
       "Oh, hell, I know Charlie Finch. I've known him for years. He's gay, you know," Gene said.
       "How do you know him, Dad," Kyle asked.
       "When you grow up in a town as small as this one, you know a lot of people, especially if you're in business," Gene said. "The same will be true of you, Kyle."
       "Do you think he'll teach me darkroom work," Kyle asked.
       "We can ask," Gene said. "I'm trying to think if he owes me a favor."
       "Was he the one you put in a good word for with Winston Flowers so he could get the bank loan," Rita asked.
       "No, that was . . . Yeah! You're right, Reetie. He was the one. So, yes, he does owe me a favor," Gene said. "I'll call him first thing Monday morning."
       "Thanks, Dad," Kyle said.
       We had dinner in a little while, and the company all went home. Ordinarily, the boys would have stayed up talking some more, but they were beat. They all went to bed.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I was the first one awake of Tim and me on Sunday morning. This was going to be the big unveiling of our tattoos, and I couldn't wait. I slipped out of bed real easy to take a leak, and then I slipped back in next to my boy. I propped my head up on my elbow so I could watch him sleeping. He was so cute, just like an angel.
       He went to sleep the night before in his briefs. Usually he and I sleep naked, but sometimes, if we're really tired, we just leave our underwear on. I was naked that morning, but he wasn't. The monkey didn't get no banana the night before, either.
       I decided I wanted to take some pictures of him sleeping. I got out my Minolta. I had real fast film in it, so I shut the flash off so as not to wake him up. His dick was only a little bigger than normal for when it was soft, and he definitely didn't have a hard-on. He must have gotten up to pee during the night, I thought. Maybe nobody would notice, especially since he had briefs on.
       I just started snapping pictures at random. I didn't have a plan or anything, but I got at some different angles to get different views of him. I had bought a few rolls of black and white film just to see what I could do with it, and that's what I was using that morning. Most of the pictures in the gallery of Bret Marston were in black and white, and that was the effect I was hoping I could achieve.
       Tim rolled over onto his side, and that gave me a chance to get him from a different perspective. In that position, even I couldn't tell that his dick was a little swollen, and believe me, I knew everything about that dick. In that position, I could see his tattoo, and it looked great.
       Then he did something that just about wiped me out. He was still asleep, but he reached out for me. He actually mumbled my name, and he was trying to find me in his sleep. Then he grabbed my pillow and hugged it to him. That's when he calmed down and kept still. I don't know why, but him doing that was totally arousing to me. I would have needed a stop watch to time how fast I got hard just standing there watching him do that. He wanted me. My boy wanted me in his sleep. I had never even imagined that before, and I damn sure hadn't known what it would do to me to see it. I wanted to get back in that bed, but I didn't want to wake him up. Plus, I wanted to finish the roll of film I was working on. I just kept taking pictures.
       I finished the roll and set the camera on rewind. The motor didn't make a lot of noise, but he must have been close to waking up because it was loud enough to make him open his eyes. He saw me standing there, camera in hand and hard-on ready, and he smiled his "melt my heart" smile.
       "Hi. Whacha doing?"
       "Taking pictures of you," I said.
       I put the camera on the desk.
       "Let me get in," I said.
       "The monkey's hungry, isn't he?"
       "He isn't a monkey anymore, Tim. This morning, after watching you sleep, he's a gorilla," I said.
       He giggled all cute and sweet. That morning I really was a gorilla, but I was a nice and gentle gorilla. My little monkey liked his gorilla boyfriend that morning, and it was very good.
       * * *
       Tim and I took a shower together, and we shaved each other. We had done that before, and, every time, he had left patches of stubble. I knew what that was all about. He didn't want to cut me in hard-to-get places. I rubbed my face and felt them.
       "You better go over it again," he said.
       I would never have done that if he hadn't said it, but he did, so I did. His beard was pretty heavy where it grew, but it didn't yet grow all over his face. Still, as light as his hair was, he could go a couple of days without shaving. Me, I had to shave every day. I didn't, of course, but I should have.
       When we finished up in the bathroom, we put on briefs and took off for downstairs. Nobody was out in the den yet. I made a pot of coffee while he went out front to get the newspapers. When the coffee was made, I poured cups for me and him, and took them out to the den to wait for everybody else.
       Jeff was the first one down. He told us good morning, but he wasn't good for anything until he had his first cup of coffee. He trudged to the kitchen and came back with a mug in just a minute. He sat down facing us. He wasn't paying any attention to us. I was so excited, I couldn't wait. I stood up facing him. He glanced up when I did that, but that was all.
       "Jeff, look at me, man," I said.
       He sighed and looked at my face.
       "Jeff, don't just look at my face. Look at my body," I said.
       "Kyle, I've looked at your body many times. I know what it looks like, and it's hot. But not right now, okay?"
       Damn, I thought. Tim was laughing his ass off.
       "What are you laughing at," I demanded.
       "You, asshole. He's out of it," he said.
       "I'm an asshole, huh?"
       I jumped on him and was all over him, kissing and hugging and petting him. We were both laughing hard.
       "Get me some more coffee," Tim said.
       I went into the kitchen and got the whole pot. I also took a tray of sweeteners and half-and-half in there. We were going to need several more pots of coffee that morning. After I filled our cups, I took the pot back into the kitchen and made a twelve-cup pot.
       "Let's go buy some breakfast," I said to Tim.
       "Okay."
       It was just the seven of us at home, so I bought twenty-eight meat biscuits at the hamburger place, and then I swung around to the Krispy Kreme doughnut place for four dozen of their glazed ones. I couldn't resist. Tim and I ate a dozen doughnuts between us on the way home.
       I set it all out on a couple of platters when we got home. We took it into the den. That stuff was staring at me, and I was so hungry.
       "I think we need to eat," I said.
       "Wait for the rest of them to get up, Kyle," Jeff said.
       I knew he was right as far as politeness was concerned, but, my God, I was so hungry. Smelling that food was more than I could handle.
       "I know you're right, Jeff, but I can't do that, man. Not this morning."
       Tim and I dove in. We got us some very good breakfast. Then I felt bad about eating so much. I went into the kitchen and cooked a big batch of scrambled eggs (whites only) and a half a loaf of toast. I was ashamed of myself, but I ate some of those eggs, too. I didn't know why I was so hungry that day, but I was.
       Tim and I had gotten dressed to go get the food, but I wanted everybody to see our new tattoos. I stripped down to just my briefs and socks.
       "Why are you getting undressed," Tim asked.
       Sheesh, I thought.
       "Because I want to," I said.
       Then Jeff finally noticed.
       "Come here. Let me see that thing," he said with a smile. "So you did it, just like you said you were going to."
       "Yep. Tim, too."
       Jeff started rubbing the tattoo like he was in a daze or something. I didn't know why he was doing it, but it made me start to get hard. Jeff was a really good looking guy, like one of the guys in those Abercrombie ads, but he wasn't really my type. Nobody remembered to tell that to my dick, though. He saw what he was doing to me, of course, and he put his hand on it. I was pretty shocked that he did that because even when me and Tim had played with Jeff, he never touched me there.
       "Jeff, where is this going, Bubba," I asked.
       He snatched his hand back like he had touched fire or something, and then he got all red in the face.
       "Kyle, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was doing. Please don't be mad at me," he said.
       I sort of felt sorry that he was so embarrassed, but there wasn't anything I could do about that.
       "I'm not mad at you, Jeff. It's just that . . ."
       "I know! I know! My God, I know," he said. "Kyle, I'll never do anything like that again, I promise you, man. I'm so ashamed." Then he started crying.
       "Jeff, get over it. You gave me a hard-on, and then you touched it. Big fuckin' deal, man," I said. I was trying to make him feel better.
       "It's not really all that big, Kyle," Tim said. Bless his sweet heart, he was trying to help out.
       Jeff chuckled a little.
       "Oh, yeah," I said to Tim, grinning. Then I grabbed him around his waist and pulled him down onto the floor. We wrestled around a little, and I got his pants undone. I pulled them down to his ankles, and then I dove for his dick with my mouth. He was struggling a little, but not really all that much. He could have gotten away from me if he had wanted to. I played with his dick with my mouth through his briefs, and he was hard as a rock in about ten seconds.
       Jeff was laughing by then, so it was mission accomplished.
       "So, are you just going to leave me like this," Tim asked.
       "Yep," I said. "Did you think I was going to suck you off right here?"
       He laughed. Actually, I wouldn't have minded doing it, but you never knew when Kevin and Rick would show up. If they had caught me giving Tim a blowjob in the den, there's no way to know how much trouble we would have been in. What I had done was risky enough, but I figured I could have explained it, if I had had to. I thought for a second about taking him upstairs to our room, but that would have been too rude, with Jeff right there, and all. Plus, we had already had a good session that morning.
       "Jeff, did you see Tim's tat," I asked.
       Tim stood up and finished taking his pants and shirt off so Jeff could see his bananas. He was still hard, of course, but Jeff didn't touch him.
       "I like those, guys. I think tattoos like those are incredibly sexy," Jeff said.
       "I do, too," I said.
       "Me, too," Tim chimed in.
       "Why don't you get one, Jeff," I asked.
       "I've actually been thinking about it. I've been thinking about a little heart with Clay's name under it on my chest. Is that too gay, or what," he said.
       "I think it would be great," I said.
       "I'd use the French word for 'clay,' which is argile," he said. "That was kind of my pet name for him, anyway."
       "That is so cool," I said. "I got the monkey because of Tim. He's my little monkey."
       "Tell the rest of it," Tim said.
       "No, you tell if you want to, but I'm not," I said.
       "I'm his little sex monkey, Jeff."
       "You guys are too cute," Jeff said.
       In about a minute, Justin and Brian dragged into the room. They were both in briefs, but Brian had on a tee shirt that covered his tattoo.
       "Hey," Justin grunted. He poured himself some coffee and immediately started in on a sausage biscuit.
       "There are some eggs in the food warmer in the dining room," Tim said to them.
       Brian got up for some, and Justin followed him. Jeff noticed Justin's tat when he came back into the room.
       "You, too," Jeff asked.
       "Yep," Justin said. He put down his plate of eggs and modeled for Jeff. "Cool, ain't it?"
       "It's very cool. What about you, Bri," Jeff asked.
       Brian got all shy and bashful. He pulled his shirt up enough for Jeff to see it, though.
       "That's cute, Bri," Jeff said. "The frog can lick the bear. I like that."
       "He licks him when he's bare," I said, just to be saying something. They all laughed, though.
       "I'm going to have a smoke now, Kyle," Jus said when he had finished eating.
       "You shit," I said, and started laughing. He laughed, too.
       "What's so funny about that," Brian asked.
       "Private joke," Justin said.
       "No fair," Bri said. "Do you know the joke, Tim?"
       "No. It's private, I guess."
       "He's teasing me because I told him I like to watch guys smoke because I think it's sexy," I said.
       "I do, too," Jeff said.
       "See, smarty pants. I'm not the only one," I said.
       "Y'all can all watch," Jus said.
       About ten o'clock, Kevin and Rick finally came out. They told everybody good morning. I could tell they had been awake for a while.
       I got up and got them cups of coffee. I checked on the eggs, and there were still enough there for two people, and they were still hot.
       "Thanks, Buddy," Rick said when I handed him his coffee. Kevin said thanks, too. They fixed their coffee the way they liked it. I was still standing up because I wanted them to see.
       Finally, Kevin noticed and broke out in a grin.
       "Kyle, come over here," he said.
       I was grinning big as I walked over to him. He touched it and then started rubbing it. What is up with this, I thought. First Jeff and now Kevin? My dick started putting on weight, but Kevin noticed it right away. Hell, they all noticed.
       "Oh, sorry," he said.
       "So, what do you think?"
       "He's a cute little thing, Kyle," Kev said.
       "He meant the tattoo, not his dick," Justin said.
       They all laughed. Justin said lines like that without any humor in his voice, and that, in itself, was funny.
       "Very funny," I said.
       "Did you get one, too, Tim," Kev asked.
       "Yes, sir. We all did," Tim said.
       They wanted to see all of them, and they said they were all cool or cute or something like that.
       "I'm taking Jeff to get one today," I said.
       "Now wait a minute," Jeff said.
       "It doesn't really hurt that much, Jeff," Brian said.
       "Do you want one, too, Jeff," Kevin asked.
       "Well, yeah, I do, but . . ."
       "Well, let's get it today, man," I said. "I know three places right here on the beach. We won't even have to go into town."
       "Do you know what you want," Rick asked.
       "Yeah. I want a small heart with Clay's name in French under it. On my chest," Jeff said.
       Kevin and Rick didn't say anything, but I could tell they were touched by what he had said.
       We fooled around a little more, talking some more about the trip.
       "Is it warm enough to go swimming," Tim asked.
       "Oh, hell yeah," I said. "We can turn the heat on, if it isn't."
       "Test it first, Kyle, before you turn the heat on," Rick said. "Kevin and I have been in every day since you all were gone. We didn't need the heat. It's spring, guys. The weather has been beautiful."
       "Come on. Let's have a quickie," Justin said.
       We all went outside, and the weather really was beautiful. It was bright sunshine, and it must have been 75 degrees already. We pealed off our briefs.
       "Kyle, you have such a lovely penis," Justin said in his idea of a mock-gay voice.
       He made a grab for it, but I jumped back. I grabbed his and pulled him by it to the side of the pool, and then I pushed him in.
       "Owwwwwww," he screamed.
       "Is it cold," Brian asked.
       "No, Buddy. It's good. Come on in."
       We played in the pool like we were otters or something. It had been a few months, and it felt good to be naked and outside with my brothers. I had wanted to swim before our trip, but we just never got around to it. That, plus it hadn't been all that warm yet. It was a perfect day for swimming that day, though. We stayed in the water for about an hour, and then we got out to get some sun on some mighty white asses.
       Tim and Brian got out a basketball, and before you knew it, everybody but Jeff was in a game of three against three. We were still naked, and that felt great. They all teased me off and on about always wanting to be naked, and it was true. I loved being naked outside, and I wasn't ashamed of it. It was a good thing we lived where we did so we could do that.
       After we had played for a good while, Jeff called me over to where he was sitting.
       "Will you really take me to get a tattoo," he asked.
       "Sure. We can all go," I said.
       "No, just you. And Kyle, I'm really sorry for what I did this morning," he said.
       "What did you do?"
       "You know. Touching you."
       "Shit, Jeff. That wasn't anything, man. You saw how fast I boned up, didn't you?"
       "I'm glad you're not mad at me," he said.
       "Jeff. You're my fucking brother, man. I'm not going to get mad at you. You of all people!"
       "It's a good thing Tim got to you first," he said.
       I knew what he meant, and that was pretty damn flattering, even if he wasn't really my type. I'd never tell him that, of course.
       "Kyle, I want you to know something. It's because of you that I was able to heal after Clay died. Getting this tattoo today is going to put the lid on it for me. That's why I want it to be just you and me," he said.
       "It'll be special for both of us, Jeff," I said. I knew what he was talking about, and I was honored to be the one. "Let's go."
       Jeff was real brave getting his ink that early Sunday afternoon, and he smiled the whole time. I felt it was sort of like Clay was entering him for the last time and forever. He and I stood in front of the mirror to look at it when the lady was done, and Jeff and I cried. He was very happy, and I was happy for him. He would really be able to go forward after that, dating again and living life. Jeff was such a good boy, and I knew my brother was watching from heaven, blessing him and blessing me.

Chapter 19

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The spring flew by. Easter was the first weekend in April, and we couldn't have asked for better weather. It was gorgeous sunshine all day, every day, but it hadn't yet gotten really hot. Spring Break season was over, so Rick and I had a little breather until Memorial Day Weekend. It was one of the best times of the year for us.
       The kids were as great as ever, and there was quite a bit for all of us to do. Tim and Brian had both decided to enter the science fair that took place near the end of April, and all of us spent a couple of weeks helping them get their projects ready. Tim did something in biology, and Brian did one in earth science.
       Gene hooked Kyle up with a photographer who was more than willing to teach him darkroom technique. The first pictures I saw that Kyle had developed were of Tim sleeping in their bed at our house, and they were stunning. He scanned them and sent them by e-mail to his photographer friend in New York. The guy loved them and actually wanted to hang one of them in his gallery. He priced it at $300, and the gallery would take a third. Kyle was ecstatic.
       "Can you believe that," Kyle said, after he read us the letter that had included a contract with the gallery.
       "Nope. I think he's got the wrong Kyle," Justin said.
       "How could he have the wrong Kyle," Kyle asked.
       "Get your ass over here, boy," Justin said.
       "What?" Kyle asked.
       Justin jumped on him and grabbed him in a huge head-lock hug.
       "I'm so fucking proud of you, I could bust a nut," Justin said.
       It was pretty obvious those boys loved one another. Tim and Brian jumped on them, and it was all Kyle could do to survive their affection.
       Jeff came home at the end of April. He had talked to Rick and me about transferring to our local campus of FSU to finish his junior and senior years of college, and we had told him our house was his home, whenever he wanted to be there. I put him to work as a bellhop at our biggest hotel, the place where Justin worked and where Kyle would work that summer. Justin had moved up to valet parking by then, and he and Jeff went to work together every morning.
       "You're pissing me off big time, Kevin," Kyle said one Friday night.
       "What did I do," I asked.
       "They get to work, and I have to go to that damn school every day," he said.
       "That's pissing you off? That you don't 'get' to work?"
       "Yeah. I want to be out there with them, you know?"
       "Working is hell, Kyle. Pure hell," Justin said. We were all naked around the pool, and Justin pinched one of Kyle's nipples when he said that.
       "Ow! Cut it out, you pervert," Kyle said.
       Justin just laughed, and Kyle laughed, too.
       "When is the election," I asked, changing the subject on purpose.
       "Next week, and I'm crapping my pants over that," he said.
       "Why?"
       "I have to give a damn speech in front of the whole school, that's why," he said.
       "Have you written it yet," I asked.
       "Yeah, and it sucks," he said.
       "Do you have it here," Rick asked.
       "Yeah."
       "Go get it and give it to us. We'll help you with it," Rick said.
       Kyle got his speech from upstairs, and this is what he said.

           "Hi, my name is Kyle Goodson, and I'm running for President of the Student Government Association, something you might know as SGA. I'm going to be a senior next year, if the good Lord and my math teacher say the same.
           "I've lived in Emerald Beach all my life, and most of you know me and have gone to school with me since kindergarten. Speaking of kindergarten, I liked it so good I did it twice. Go figure. You know I've done all kinds of stuff at this school, from cross country to drama to student government. But mostly I'm just an ordinary guy who likes to have fun. Some of you played soccer and baseball with me when we were little, and some of you have surfed with me when the surf was up but the holiday flag wasn't. Miss Ortega, please don't take names of the ones laughing.
           "There's a serious side to me, though. I'm all about diversity, and live and let live. We don't have many black kids in this school. In fact, I'm looking at both of my black brothers right now. We have a handful of Asians here, and I know they're going to kick my ass on the SAT. We have some Latinos, too, and, frankly, I'm sitting next to one of them on my next Spanish test. Those guys know their Spanish, and that's for sure.
           "Then there are the gay kids. Gay and lesbian and bisexual, I mean. They say about ten percent of the people are gay or lesbian or bisexual. Look around. If I got the math right, there's probably 130 or more gay, lesbian, or bisexual people in this gym right now. There ain't nearly that many blacks, Asians, or Latinos all put together, and there ain't even that many surfers.
           "We got us the best high school in the county, and everybody knows that. I want it to be the best high school in the state, and we're mighty close. Please vote for me for President, and I'll do whatever I can to see that we're the best. Thanks."

       "You think that sucks? Man, that's a wonderful speech," I said.
       "Well, we'll see," he said.
       "Kyle, there are natural laugh points," Jeff said. "The only thing I worry about is the pauses for the laughter are going to make it too long."
       "I hope they laugh," he said. "I don't know, though."
       "They're going to laugh a lot, Babe," Tim said. "We laughed. It's a funny speech."
       "I hope," Kyle said.
       * * *
       Gene, Rita, George, Sonya, Rick, Jeff, and I were at school the next Thursday for Kyle's speech. Justin slipped in right before it started, and Gene hugged him big. We listened to the speeches by the candidates for other offices, and then it was time for the speeches of Kyle and his opponent. The other guy went first, and, frankly, he put everybody to sleep. Then Kyle was up.
       Kyle was all down-home and aw-shucks in his delivery. I counted seven big bursts of laughter and several smaller ones. They got pretty quiet when he talked about diversity, but they howled when he said "there ain't even that many surfers." He definitely stole that show, and everybody knew it.
       "Kevin, right?" It was Sally Ortega, the principal.
       "Right. Hi, Sally. Do you know these people? This is my partner, Rick Mashburn. These are Gene and Rita Goodson, Kyle's parents. This is Justin Davis, Kyle's brother and best friend; this is George Murphy and his friend Sonya Jenkins, and this is Jeff Martin, Kyle's older brother."
       "Pleased to meet all of you," Sally said. "If he doesn't win after that speech, I'm retiring."
       We all laughed.
       "Will you join us for lunch," Gene asked Sally.
       "I'd love to, Gene, but I have duty in the cafeteria. Have a good time with your guys. They're some of our best," Sally said.
       We met up with the guys at the Starfish. They were ebullient. Philip and Ryan were there, as were Chad and Gage. Morgan, Blake, and Riley were, too, and of course Kyle and Tim. It was quite a crowd. We all went through the buffet line, and the boys loaded up like starved men.
       "Kyle, your speech was unbelievable," Gage said. "If you win, I'm going to feel so empowered, after that speech."
       "Well, I don't know if I will, you know."
       "You're gonna win, man," Justin said.
       "Too bad you can't fucking vote," Kyle said. Then, after a short pause, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that bad word. I'm sorry, Mama."
       Rick, Gene, and I were laughing silently.
       "Son, I've heard that word before, from you even. I don't like hearing it, but I know boys say it. Your father certainly does, and your brother did, too. Let's just move on from that, okay?"
       Kyle grinned. "Mom, you're the best."
       Actually, that day he was the best, as far as the election went, anyway. The vote was 1175 for Kyle and 130 for his opponent. It was truly a mandate.
       That night we were all in our den. Justin and Jeff were tired from working, but Kyle was still riding high from his election victory. He had stopped at a big grocery store or someplace, and he had bought a ton of hors d’oeuvres for us. He had heated them in the oven.
       Justin picked up one and popped it into his mouth. He spat it into his napkin after biting it in half.
       "God, almighty! This thing's on fire," he said.
       "It's a hot snack. It's supposed to be hot, dumbass," Kyle said.
       "What is it?"
       Kyle looked at the half-chewed mass in Justin's hand.
       "It's called 'pig in a blanket,'" Kyle said. "Cool it off and eat it. It's good, especially with a little bit of mustard."
       "I know what part of the pig this is, and I don't like it," he said.
       That made us all laugh hard.
       "Kyle, you gave your speech today so well," Jeff said.
       "Thanks, Jeff," he said. "I won because the other guy was so bad, not because I was good."
       "Whoa! Hold up there," Justin said.
       "What," Kyle asked.
       "When we were in New York City, you reamed my ass out good for putting myself down, and now you're doing the same thing," Jus said.
       "Jus, he's not . . ."
       "Tim, shut up, man. You don't have to defend him every time somebody crosses him. I might just be right, you know?"
       Tim kept his mouth shut.
       "He is right, Babe," Kyle said. "But how am I supposed to act, Justin? All proud and puffed up like I'm some kind of conceited god or something. That ain't me, man. I'm not going to be conceited, man. I just won't do it."
       "Nobody wants you to be conceited, Kyle. All you had to say was 'thank you' to Jeff," Justin said.
       "Thank you, Jeff. Now, is that good enough for you?"
       "Kyle, don't piss me off over this because I'll haul your ass in the back yard in a minute, and you know it," Jus said.
       Kyle looked at Jus and started laughing. Jus started laughing, too. Justin jumped on Kyle and pinned him to the floor, and Kyle let him do it without a struggle. Kyle submitted to Justin because he knew Justin was right, and Kyle had enough character in him to admit it. Justin leaned forward and kissed Kyle on the forehead.
       "Get off me, you brute," Kyle said.
       Justin got off him.
       "This has got to be an ice cream moment, right," Justin said.
       "Ice cream moments usually follow tears, but, yeah, this is one," Rick said. "You two studs come and help me."
       We had one of our grand ice cream feasts that night to celebrate Kyle's election and his friendship with Justin. It was more than that, though. It was a celebration of our family.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I won that damn election, and the next day the heat was on. The Junior-Senior Prom was coming up pretty quick, and I hadn't even bought a ticket. As the SGA President-elect I had to be there, but what was I going to do? If I had a date for that prom, I would have wanted it to be Tim.
       "Are we going to go to the prom together," I asked.
       "No way am I going as your date, and, since I'm a sophomore, I can't go stag. No way, Kyle," Tim said. He made himself pretty clear.
       "Tim, I've got to go, man. I've got to be at that prom."
       "Well, I'm not going," he said. "Ask a girl."
       "No way! I'm not asking a girl for a date."
       "Why not? There are plenty that want you," he said.
       He said that like he was a little bit jealous.
       "They might want me, but I don't want them. I want you. You haven't figured that out yet, Tim?"
       He grinned big at me.
       "You've been trying to get me last, haven't you, you little shitass?"
       He grinned and nodded. I gave him a damn good shot to his arm, and I knew it hurt. He deserved it, though, and he knew it.
       I ended up going to the prom with Philip, Morgan, and two girls I was good friends with from the Drama Club. That was the first time I wore a tux, and I felt really good wearing it. Philip and Morgan looked great in theirs, too, and the girls looked spectacular in their prom gear. There were five or six other groups like us there, too. I didn't care. I danced my ass off with just about every girl at that hotel (it was in one of ours, by the way), and I had a great time. I felt a little bit guilty having so much fun while Tim and the others were just hanging out, but I got over it.
       All of the seniors, and a lot of the juniors, had hotel rooms that night. I knew there was going to be a lot of fucking going on. We went out afterwards to a friend's house where his parents had cooked breakfast, and we hung out and drank fake wine until about 2:30. We took the girls home, and I kissed both of them good night. Not like I kissed Tim, but you know. I had a good time, and everybody seemed glad I was there.
       I thought my senior year was going to be pretty good. I didn't have any math or any science, so that was very good. I had saved up my electives, and I was going to have two P.E. electives both halves of the year. I had English, of course, but that wasn't hard for me. I was all set for a great summer and a great senior year.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The Monday morning after the prom, I got a phone call at work from Tyrone Williams.
       "Hey, Tyrone. What's up, man? You should have been at our house Saturday night when Kyle went to his prom. He looked like he was right off the page of a magazine," I said.
       "Who is Kyle?"
       "He's one of ours. You've met him, but never mind. What can I do for you?"
       "I want you to take another kid," he said. "This one is time-sensitive, though. You won't have him for more than a month."
       "You know any kid is always welcome at our house," I said.
       "Yeah, I do. But this kid is a little bit different from the kind you have now. This kid has cerebral palsy."
       I didn't say anything for a while.
       "You still there, Kevin?"
       "Yeah, I'm still here. I'm just thinking, that's all."
       "Y'all still live in that one-story house, don't you," he asked.
       "Actually, it's a three-story house now," I said. "We moved up."
       "Is there an elevator," he asked.
       "An elevator? Of course not."
       "The boy's in a wheelchair, and he needs a lot of personal care. You and Rick were my last hope, man. I don't know what I'm going to do with him," Tyrone said.
       "I've got five big oxen who can carry him up and down stairs," I said.
       "The boys?"
       "Yeah, the boys. Not Rick and me, although we will, if we have to."
       "Will you take him," he asked. "It's only for a month. Guaranteed."
       "Tyrone, you know I can't take him without talking to Rick and the boys. All of our lives will be impacted. They'd kick my ass out of the house if I didn't consult them."
       "I know. If you'd like to meet him, I can bring him over this afternoon. He's sixteen. Just the age of your guys. His name is Chris. Chris Uhle, and he's a sweetheart, Kevin."
       "You're begging, Tyrone. Let me talk to them. Hang up now. Bye."
       "You asshole," Tyrone said, and we hung up both laughing at one another.
       I immediately went down to Rick's office and barged in.
       "What? Who's hurt," he demanded.
       "It's not about ours," I said.
       "Shit. What's up?"
       "I just got off the phone with Tyrone."
       "Tyrone Williams?"
       "Yeah."
       "What did he want," Rick asked.
       "He's got a hard-to-place kid. Evidently, he's been with his grandparents, but his grandmother just died of breast cancer. His dad lives in Montana. I don't know about his mother. His grandfather is feeble, and he can't handle him by himself. He needs a place for a month," I said.
       "So what's the deal, Kevin? We're committed to helping kids, right? Bring him on, man," Rick said.
       "Well, this one is a little bit different, though. He has cerebral palsy, and he's in a wheelchair. And apparently he needs help with personal stuff. Tyrone didn't elaborate, but I gathered the kid can't use the bathroom by himself," I said.
       "Oh, I see what you mean," Rick said.
       "Somebody would have to carry him up and down the stairs. Somebody would have to bathe him and take care of him in the bathroom. It would only be for a month, but that's a lot."
       "Have you talked to the boys about it," he asked.
       "Of course not," I said.
       He grinned.
       "Let's go to lunch with them," he said. "You know they're going to want to do it, don't you?"
       "Yeah, I pretty much figured they would. Are you prepared for that?"
       "I'm as prepared as you are. If the boys are cool with it, I say we take him," Rick said.
       I grinned, and I knew we were going to have us another kid by day's end.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       They surprised the hell out of us by showing up where we ate lunch. We already had a big table, but, no, they wanted to talk, so we had to go sit out on the deck away from our friends. It was me, Tim, and Brian.
       "What's up? Did you guys get fired?"
       "Very funny," Rick said.
       "So I don't have to kick my dad's ass," I asked, trying to be funny.
       "Kyle, shut up, you horny macho fuck," Rick said.
       "Oh-h-h-h, we're being serious, I see."
       Kevin and Rick both laughed.
       "Yeah, we're here on something serious, Kyle. We need to give a new boy a home for about a month," Kevin said.
       "Bring him on, I say."
       "He's disabled, Kyle. He has cerebral palsy. He's in a wheelchair all the time."
       "So what? We'll take care of him," I said. I knew I could speak for the others.
       "Kyle, you'll have to carry him up and down stairs, bathe him, probably wipe his ass, too," Rick said. "Can you do that?"
       "Of course we can do that, Rick. What do you think, man? Jesus Christ! Of course we can do it," I said.
       "So we can tell Tyrone to bring him around this afternoon so we can meet him," I asked.
       "Bring him now. We can take the rest of the day off to meet him," I said.
       "No way, Kyle. Your ass is in class this afternoon," Rick said. "But be ready to meet him right after school."
       "You and Kevin are such hard asses, Rick. We get a new brother, and you won't even let us skip one dumb class to meet him. I have Outdoor Recreation next period. I'll ask about camping in a wheelchair," I said.
       "You ask about that, Bubba, 'cause that ain't out of the question, you know? You ask about swimming and boating, too," Rick said.
       Oh, my God, I suddenly thought. This boy's going to have the best time of his life with us, and I'm going to see to it.
       "I saw a thing on a Web site about people in wheelchairs water skiing," I said. "I'm ordering him some skis tonight."
       "Let's wait and meet him first, okay, Kyle," Kevin said.
       "Okay, Kevin, but I'm telling you this right now. My job for the next month is to make this kid the happiest boy in the world, man."
       * * *
       We met Chris that afternoon, and he was a damn good looking kid, too. He was pretty stiff and stove up, though. He was a little bit hard to understand, but I could tell what he was saying if I listened real close.
       "Do you want to go swimming," I asked him. Tyrone hadn't turned him over to Kevin and Rick yet, so I was taking a chance.
       "I've never done that," he said.
       "Well, get ready, Bubba, 'cause you're doing it now," I said.
       I wheeled his ass out to the pool. Tyrone and Kevin and Rick went out there with us like they didn't trust us.
       "Everybody get naked," I said.
       Chris grinned like a goon when I said that.
       "You, too, Bubba," I said to Chris.
       "I can't do it," he said. I could barely understand him, but I knew what he said.
       "You might can't, but I can do it," I said.
       He laughed so nice.
       I stripped down, and then I went to work on Chris. It wasn't easy getting his clothes off. He couldn't bend like most people can, so I had to take my time. I didn't want to hurt him. Finally, I got him naked. I picked him up off that wheelchair, and he didn't weigh more than a feather. I jumped into the pool with him in my arms. Bless his heart, he could only put one arm around my neck. That didn't stop us, though.
       "Hold your breath, we're going under," I said, and I took a dive underwater with him in my arms.
       He came up laughing so hard I thought I would drop him.
       "Have you ever heard of dwarf tossing," I asked. "You ain't a dwarf, but I think we can do it." He wasn't really a dwarf, but he was tiny. I'll bet he didn't weigh more than seventy-five pounds.
       "Is it fun," he asked.
       "It will be for you. Just don't breath if you're underwater, okay?"
       "You think I'm dumb, asshole," he said.
       "Asshole, huh? Watch this."
       I dunked his ass bad. He came up sputtering and laughing at the same time.
       "That just proves you're an asshole, Kyle. Who else would dunk a cripple?"
       "A cripple's own new brother would, that's who, you fucker," I said, and I swam underwater with him in my arms.
       "Okay, buddy, I'm tossing your ass now," I said.
       I threw him to Tim, and Tim caught him at the water line. Chris was laughing for all he was worth. Tim threw him to Brian, and Brian threw him back to me. We kept that up for a while.
       "Are you tired of this, Chris," I asked.
       "I'm tired, but I'm not tired of this. This is the most fun I've ever had, Kyle."
       "Well, this is just the beginning, man. You're going to have fun here, Buddy. There's no question about that."
       "Thank you, Kyle. Do you know that somebody is going to have to take care of me? Bathe me, dress me, wipe me, let me pee."
       "Chris, we don't care about that shit, man. We can all do that. You're in an all-guy family here, man. You ain't got nothing we haven't seen before."
       "You're too good," he said.
       "Let's get out of the water. Your wee-wee has just about vanished."
       He laughed. "Thanks for noticing, asshole," he said.
       I dunked him one more time, and he came up laughing. We didn't get out, though.

(Justin's Perspective)
       When Jeff and I got home that day, we found out we had us a new brother. They were all out in the yard around the pool. In fact, Kyle and them were naked and in the pool.
       "Hey, Bubba," Kevin said to me. "Hi, Jeff. Jeff, I don't think you've met our friend Tyrone Williams."
       "Jeff Martin," he said, as he shook Tyrone's hand.
       I shook Tyrone's hand, too, but I already knew him.
       "What's up," I asked.
       "You've got you a new brother, at least for a while, Justin," Tyrone said.
       "Cool. What's his name?"
       "Chris Uhle. Go meet him," Rick said.
       Kyle was in about chest-high water, and he was holding a boy who looked like he was about eight.
       "Get in, Justin," Kyle said.
       "I've got to meet my new brother first," I said.
       "Get in and meet him," Kyle said. "Jeff, get in."
       "I just got an order, guys," Jeff said. "I'd better snap to."
       "Me, too," I said.
       Rick, Kevin, and Tyrone laughed.
       Kyle introduced me and Jeff to Chris. I shook his hand, and it was so soft and delicate I was afraid I would break it. Kyle was holding him, and I knew right away what that was all about. Kyle had him somebody to take care of, and that was going to make his summer. Kyle talks big sometimes about wanting to beat up gay bashers and such, but there wasn't anybody more gentle than Kyle when he wanted to be. Right then he wanted to be.
       "Did you just come home from school," Chris asked. I had a little trouble understanding him, but I sort of watched his mouth when he talked. That helped me figure out what he was saying.
       "We don't go to school. We work," I said. "What about you? Do you go to school?"
       "Yeah, I go to school," he said. "It's a special school for kids with disabilities."
       "Chris, I want to tell you something right now, okay?" I was trying to be real nice and gentle. "If I say something by accident that sounds like I'm making fun of you, I'm not, okay? I've never been around anyone who is crippled, and something might slip out."
       "I can tell friendly from unfriendly, Justin," he said. "I know you boys wouldn't hurt my feelings on purpose. I can just feel that about you."
       "You're right, Chris. This is all about friendly here," I said.
       "I forgot to ask you. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat," Kyle asked Chris.
       "I have to warn you. I'm a pretty sloppy eater," he said.
       "Can you eat by yourself, or do you need help," Jeff asked.
       "I can eat, but I usually need help with my meat," he said.
       "Join the crowd," I said, and everybody but Chris laughed.
       "You need help with your meat," Chris asked all of us.
       "He's being dirty, Chris," Tim said.
       "I don't get it," Chris replied.
       Oh-oh. Daniel in the lion's den, I thought.
       "Have you ever heard your dick called your meat," Kyle asked.
       "I don't think so. I'm pretty dumb about that stuff, I guess," he said.
       "Well, you won't be for long," I said.
       "Do you guys have girl friends and do sex with them," he asked.
       "No. Not girlfriends. We have boyfriends. We're gay, Chris. All of us," Jeff said.
       He got this really puzzled look on his face like he was trying to figure out what was up.
       "You guys don't seem to be gay," he said.
       "Yeah, but we are," I said. "Brian's my boyfriend, Tim is Kyle's boyfriend, and Rick and Kevin are married to each other."
       "I see I'm going to learn a lot," he said. "How did you know you were gay?"
       "That's a good question, and I think it was a little different for each one of us," Jeff said. "We're all attracted sexually to boys, though."
       "I don't know very much about sex," he said.
       "That's all right. We'll teach you, if you want us to," Kyle said. "Do you think you might be gay?"
       "I don't think so," he said. "I don't think about sex much, but my penis gets hard when I do think about it."
       "What do you think about when you jerk off," Kyle asked.
       "I've only done that a few times. I don't really know what I think about," he said. The poor guy was blushing.
       "Don't ever be embarrassed about sex around us, okay," Kyle said.
       "If you have questions, just ask us, Chris. We don't know everything, but we know a good bit," I said.
       "Do you ever get hard when you're swimming or playing around out here," he asked.
       "All the time," I said. "That's one thing you gotta know. When we get hard, we don't touch ourselves or play with it when Kevin and Rick are around. Or any grown-ups for that matter. They're real strict about that. But otherwise, just try to ignore it until it goes away."
       "We won't make fun of you, if you get hard, Chris," Jeff said. "If we did that, we'd be making fun of somebody all the time."
       That made that little dude laugh, and hearing him laugh made the rest of us laugh, too.
       "Can we get out now? I'm getting a little cold," he said.
       "Sure."
       Everybody got out. Kyle ran into the clubhouse and got towels for everybody. He dried off Chris.
       "Do you want to get dressed or stay like you are," Kyle asked him.
       "What are you going to do?"
       "I'm going to stay like I am. I'm probably going back in the water in a little while," Kyle said.
       He was staring at Kyle's equipment, but I noticed his own wasn't stirring, what little there was of it.
       "You have a very beautiful penis, Kyle," Chris said.
       Chris couldn't see my face, but Kyle damn sure could. I was grinning a mile wide, and Kyle was turning red. You didn't see that very often.
       "Thanks," Kyle mumbled.
       "Can I touch it," Chris asked.
       "No! No. Not with them out here," he said, meaning Rick and Kevin.
       "Are you mad at me," he asked.
       "Oh, hell no, I'm not mad at you." Kyle squatted down to be on his level to talk. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to touch my penis, but . . .Help me out here, guys."
       "It's normal curiosity to want to touch Kyle's penis," Jeff said. "It something to do in private, though."
       "Okay. I understand. I'm just not used to seeing them, that's all," he said.
       "You'll get used to it around here. That's for sure," Brian said.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I'm a sucker for a cute kid, especially somebody like Chris. It wasn't really that much trouble taking care of him, and after a couple of days every one of us felt right at home doing what needed doing. He couldn't walk or stand up without somebody holding him, but that didn't stop him from getting everywhere he wanted to be in his wheelchair.
       We got a bed from one of the hotels and turned the downstairs study into his bedroom. He used the toilet in the little partial bathroom downstairs, and every night one of us gave him a bath in the tub in Kevin and Rick's room. It was a great big tub. I don't know what the others did, but I stripped down and got right in there with him. Most of the time, we'd end up playing in the water instead of having a quick bath like you would by yourself. Kevin got pissed off at us a time or two when we got water all over the floor, but we had fun doing it. Besides, I cleaned it up.
       He never did bring up touching my dick again, like he had the first day, so I didn't say anything about it. We both got hard a couple of times, as naked boys playing around in the tub will do, but that was it. We'd giggle and look at one another, but we never did touch each other in a sexual way. I wasn't interested in him that way, and evidently he wasn't interested in me that way, either.
       He wasn't wrong about being a sloppy eater, that's for sure. He suggested we tie a towel around his neck, and that was a good thing. By the time he finished eating, I think he had as much food on the towel as he got down his throat. One time we had spaghetti. Oh, my God! It looked like a blood bath. He loved that red sauce, though.
       He got to where he was tossing out jokes and put-downs as good as the rest of us. Better, even, than Brian and Jeff. One time he and I were on the floor watching TV. It was a real boring baseball game, and we started fooling around. I knocked him over, and he crawled over to me and flopped down on my back. I pushed him over, and before long we were wrestling.
       "Kyle. Be careful. You're going to hurt him," Rick said.
       "He's not hurting me, but if he does, you'll know it," he said.
       "Oh, yeah? How will we know it," I asked.
       "They'll know it because you'll be screaming."
       "Me? Why would I be screaming," I asked.
       "Cause I'll be biting your nuts off," he said.
       Everybody who was there laughed hard, and I could tell Chris was proud of himself.
       "Go ahead and say it, Kyle," Justin said. "He deserves it for that one."
       "Okay. You got me last, Bubba," I said. He grinned so big you could see his tonsils.
       When I first met Chris, I thought he would be this pitiful little guy who could barely stay alive. I was so totally wrong about that. That boy was tough. He was disabled, for sure, but he never asked for help unless he absolutely had to. It might take him three tries to get a spoonful of food into this mouth, but he'd do it himself, or die trying. He was sharp, too. He went to a special school, but he was taking the same shit I was. We even got him out a few times to shoot hoops. He never got one in, but he never gave up on it, either.
       He loved to play with Brian and his model airplanes. Brian got him to the point where he could control it pretty good while the plane was in the air. I don't think he ever landed one, but, hell, I could only do that about half the time.
       He also loved my boat. He didn't stay long enough for me to get him up on skis, but he was willing to try it if we had had time. A few times I sat him in my lap and let him help me steer the boat. One time when we were like that, I got a hard-on.
       "I feel something," he said, grinning.
       "You know what it is, don't you?"
       "Yeah. Does that mean you're in love with me?"
       "You little fucker," I said.
       He laughed.
       "Seriously, is it bothering you," I asked.
       "No."
       "Well, let's just ignore it."
       He didn't say anything for about a minute.
       "Kyle?"
       "What?"
       "Can you ignore a hard dick up your ass?"
       I slowed the boat almost to idle.
       "Here. Let me move you," I said.
       "I was only teasing you, Kyle," he said. "And I got you last, too."
       I was laughing so hard I could hardly talk.
       "I ought to throw your ass in this water and not go after you," I said. "And, yeah, you did get me last, you fucker."
       He was laughing so hard he almost fell off my lap.
       Much to everybody's surprise and disappointment, Chris didn't stay with us a full month. In fact, his dad came to get him after only two weeks. His dad was a really nice guy, and it seemed like he really loved Chris, too. He stayed with us a couple of days to learn how we were taking care of Chris. There was a lot of crying when we took them to the airport. Everybody promised to write and to visit and to stay in touch, but I don't know how likely that will be.
       Getting to know Chris changed all of us, I think. We talked about it a little bit. We all decided that we would never think of a disabled person as "crippled" ever again.

Chapter 20

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The year for us was marked by major holidays, but it was also marked by family events. One of those family events at the beginning of May was Tim's sixteenth birthday. His birthday, May 5th, was on a Tuesday, and we were going to have a party, an almost-all-day party, on the following Saturday, May 9th.
       "How are we going to do this for Tim's birthday," Kyle had asked Rick and me about a month before the actual event. He had made a joint appointment with us at our offices to discuss this.
       "What are you talking about? We're going to have a pool party, like we did for Jus and you, and like we will for Kevin on May 25th. I don't get the problem, Kyle," Rick said.
       "Walk through this with me, okay?" Kyle was so intense. "We have two very different groups of people, Rick. We have our friends, who are all guys and who would like nothing better than a naked swimming party, and then we have people like my mom, Sonya, Beth, and Cherie. Cherie might like a naked swimming party with us, but I don't think the other ladies would."
       Rick and I laughed because we knew he was right.
       "You're pretty serious about this, aren't you," I said.
       "Yes, I am, Kevin. This is important," Kyle said.
       Rick and I were both tickled to death at him, but we also knew he was right, and we knew not to laugh at him.
       "Where were you thinking about having this party," Rick asked.
       "Your house. Where do you think?"
       "Well, we could do it in two places, though, Kyle. Our house and your house. Skiing, pool, ping pong, clothing-required swimming, basketball, and dancing at our house; clothing-optional swimming at your house," Rick said.
       "And we could eat in the clubhouse. That's it! This is perfect! I hadn't thought of having two locations."
       "Thanks to you, we've got the tables and chairs and all that other stuff," I said.
       "Is two o'clock too early to start," he asked.
       "No time is too early to start, but we need to do a little timetable," I said.
       "What do you mean," Kyle asked.
       "Let's start with dinner. What time do you want to serve that?"
       "I don't know. Seven o'clock," Kyle said.
       "Seven is good," I said. "That means drinks and hors d'oeuvres beginning at six or 5:30?"
       "I think 5:30," Kyle said, "but we'll have to have soft drinks and beer out from the beginning, won't we?"
       "Yeah, and probably some nibbles, like nuts and maybe some chips and dip, too," Rick said.
       "Who's going to cook? You," I asked.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said.
       "Do you have a menu?"
       "I thought we'd do the same as we did for Brian's birthday," Kyle said.
       "I don't know, Kyle. It's mostly the same people," Rick said.
       "Yeah, but they all said it was good," Kyle said.
       "You have to have a totally different menu, Kyle," Rick said. "It's the same people, man."
       He looked so discouraged.
       "Cowboy up, Stud. You can do this," Rick said.
       "I don't know. Maybe this is more than I should do. Maybe we should have a cookout or something."
       "How about a pig? A whole pig? You can cater that, Bubba. From one of our hotels," Rick said.
       "I don't know about that," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but you need to think about it," Rick said. "Have you ever seen a suckling pig presented?"
       "No, sir," Kyle said.
       "Well, let me tell you something, Bubba. It's spectacular. It's the whole pig with an apple in its mouth. That means a buffet, though. Can you live with that?"
       "What else will we have," he asked.
       "I recommend wild rice, stewed apples, and sautéed asparagus. Birthday cake, ice cream, and asti spumanti for dessert."
       "Talking about this is making me hungry. Will the caterer cook that other stuff, too, or just the pig," he asked.
       "You cater this one 100%. You're the host, man. If it starts at two o'clock, you won't have time to cook," Rick said. "You can't cook while you're driving a ski boat."
       "I didn't think about that," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, you worked your ass off for Brian's party, and you learned a whole lot by doing that. This is a different kind of party, and you're going to learn a lot from this one, too. You know, you could try to serve exactly the same menu as you did at Brian's party, but you couldn't get it done. This is different because of the activities you want people to have a choice of doing," Rick said.
       "I'm beginning to see the logic of this whole party-giving thing," Kyle said. "Giving a party might just mean organizing a party, right? I mean, I can get other people to do the work and still say I'm giving it, can't I?"
       "Kyle, this is what your family does for a living, man. Hospitality is all about entertaining people and not killing yourself in the process. Besides, it's work organizing something like this."
       "Simple hors d’oeuvres, right?"
       Kyle was rolling.
       "Exactly. What are you going to serve," Rick asked.
       He thought for a little while.
       "That cheese-meat-tomato dip stuff," he said.
       "Great choice. It's easy to make, people love it, and it's filling," Rick said. "Now, see, that's something you can make that morning and warm up when you're ready to put it out."
       "Vegetable-and-dip tray," Kyle said.
       "Oh, yeah. Always," Rick said. "But get the caterer to do that because of all the time it takes to get the vegetables ready."
       "Raw oysters?"
       "Not at this time of year, Kyle. There's no 'r' in the month. You can't serve raw oysters then," Rick said.
       "How about crab fingers?"
       "Now you're talking," Rick said. "Broiled, though, not fried. Fried is too labor-intensive at the last minute. You can broil them in the morning and warm them up, too, before you put them out. And just serve cocktail sauce with them, not drawn butter."
       We kept that up for a while, and Kyle left our offices with a menu and a plan of attack. Before he left, he called and made an appointment with the Director of Catering at the Laguna. After he had gone, I called her up and told her who he was and that he got the same rate his father got.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I wanted Tim's birthday party to be special and memorable for everybody, so I got started planning it about a month ahead of time. I was glad I did, too, because this was going to take some pretty serious coordination on my part.
       I put an announcement about the party on the Web site, but I also got a guest list from Tim so I could mail invitations. I pretty much knew who he wanted to have, but there might be some friends of his that I didn't know all that well that he wanted to include. As it turned out, there were a couple of people he wanted to invite that I wouldn't have thought of.
       The party was going to be in two parts. The first part, from two o'clock until 5:30, was going to be swimming, skiing, and other games. Clothing-optional swimming would be at my house, and the rest would be at Kevin and Rick's house. The second part, dinner, would start at 5:30 with drinks at their house.
       They helped me set up a menu, and I got with the Director of Catering at the Laguna to handle that. That lady was really easy to work with, and she said she'd take care of everything, including having a few wait staff there to serve the buffet. We were going to figure on fifty people, but it would probably be a few less than that. I had ended up ordering five ten-top tables and fifty chairs for the clubhouse, along with china, silver, and crystal for that many, and table linens for that many, too, so that much was all set, at least. I had never seen a whole pig cooked before, and the first time they served one of those after I started talking to the Director of Catering, she called me to come see it.
       "Wow, this is something," I said when I saw it.
       "Yeah, this is pretty spectacular," Jessica, the catering lady, said.
       "What does this cost," I asked.
       "For them or for you," she asked.
       "Both," I said.
       "For them, it's $35 per person; for you, it's $15."
       "Does that include everything," I asked. "The hors d'ouerves, too?"
       "Yep. Everything but the bar, of course. Are you going to want a bartender, too?"
       I thought about that for a minute. I had never done anything that had a bartender, but I knew that somebody was going to have to make drinks. I kept thinking about what Kevin and Rick had told me about me being the host. I knew I'd have to mingle and talk to the guests. True, they were all our friends and wouldn't mind making their own drinks, but to go to this much trouble and not have a bartender seemed wrong, somehow.
       "Yeah, a bartender, too," I said. "But we'll supply the liquor and soft drinks. A lot of the people there will just be drinking soft drinks."
       "That's not a problem," she said. "Sometimes we do parties where no alcohol is served at all, and people still have a bartender. It really makes it much nicer and easier for you."
       "How much does that cost," I asked.
       "Just add another fifty, since you're supplying the beverages," she said.
       "Just out of curiosity from a business point of view, are you going to make anything on my party," I asked.
       "We'll do slightly better than break even on that one," she said.
       "So why would it ordinarily be more than double what you're charging me," I asked.
       "We've got to have room to negotiate. If a big client wants this, say for 350 people, I'd start at $35 a person. Then we'd work down to $30, and the client would think he'd saved money. We've actually got the best prices on the beach, by the way."
       "Isn't that sort of dishonest," I asked.
       "Not at all. We have to make a profit, Kyle, or we'd go out of business. This same meal next door would be $40 a person," she said.
       "I guess I have a lot to learn," I said.
       "Yes, and you're learning it. By the time you're ready to come to work here, you'll know what you need to know," she said.
       I thought about college and medical school and residency, and about all the years it would take for us to get through that before I'd be working there. By then I'd have six or seven years under my belt working for a hotel in New Orleans, probably. All of a sudden, it seemed doable. I would know about all of this by then.
       She had a contract for me to sign, and I felt like a grown-up when I signed it.
       "Don't worry about a thing, Kyle. It will all be taken care of, and it will be very, very nice. I guarantee it," she said.
       Phew!, I thought.
       * * *
       "Have you talked to your dad about getting you a car for your birthday," I asked Tim.
       It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon in late-April. It was the last School Improvement Day of the school year, and he and I were in his bed at his house. We had finished class at 11:30 so the teachers could have the afternoon to train or plan or do whatever they did on those days once a month. We had eaten lunch at our usual place and had come home and made love. I had been disappointed that we weren't going to be able to take the boat out like I had wanted to, but it was nice having time to just be together like that, too.
       "Yeah. I'm getting one," he said.
       "What do you want to get," I asked.
       "I was thinking about a Jeep. What do you think about that?"
       "You mean, like a Wrangler?"
       "Yeah. You like those, don't you," he asked.
       "No. I love 'em. Yes! Get a Wrangler. Oh, Tim. Man. That will be so cool," I said. "Let's go look at 'em this afternoon. You want to?"
       "Sure," he said. "How about some more of this first, though."
       He started playing with me, and I just moaned, it felt so good. Then he got me in his mouth.
       "Oh, Tim. That feels so good," I said.
       Then I moved around and took him into my mouth. It took us a while, but eventually we both got there for the second time in an hour.
       * * *
       The only dealership that had jeeps was in town, so that's where we went. They had about a dozen new ones in stock.
       "What color do you like," I asked Tim.
       "Not that yellow one," he said. "Those white ones look pretty good."
       "I don't like the yellow, either," I said. "The advantage of the white is it has that light-colored top, and that'll be better in the heat than the dark tops. Let's see if they'll let us take one out."
       A young salesman was sort of loitering around the door of the place, standing under the covered area in front. We went over to him.
       "Hi, fellas," he said. "How many can I sell you today?"
       Tim and I kind of chuckled a little bit. The guy seemed real friendly, and he was pretty cute, too.
       "Can we take one of 'em out for a test drive," I asked.
       "You got a license?"
       Of course I've got a license, asshole, I thought. I drove up here, didn't I? Then it dawned on me. Tim didn't have a license. Shit, I thought. They're not going to let him drive it.
       "Yes, sir. I've got one," I said. I took out my wallet and showed it to him.
       "Kyle Goodson. You're not related to Gene Goodson, by any chance, are you," he asked.
       "Yes, sir. He's my dad."
       "I've known your dad for a long time. I used to work for him, in fact."
       "At a hotel," I asked.
       "At a motel, actually. I was the pool boy at one for a few summers when I was in high school and college. Don't you have a brother? Clay, is it?"
       "Yes, sir, I did, but he passed away last fall," I said.
       "Oh, shit! What?"
       "Yes, sir. He got sick and died. It was real sudden."
       "Oh, man. I'm so sorry. How's your dad doing?"
       "He's doing okay. Er, can we take the car out?"
       "Of course you can, Kyle. Please tell your dad hello for me. My name's Allan Simmons. He may not remember me, but I sure remember him. He's such a nice guy."
       "Thanks, Allan," I said. He wasn't moving. "Can I get the key?"
       "Oh, sorry. It should be in the car."
       We walked over to the car, and the key was in the ignition. We got in, and I fired it up.
       "Don't be scared if it's a little jerky. It's my driving, not the car," I said. "It's been a while since I've driven a stick."
       I backed up without any trouble, and we took off.
       "This rides good, Babe," I said. "Do you want to drive it?"
       "Can I?"
       "Well, not officially yet, but if you're going to buy it, you need to feel how it drives."
       I pulled into a parking lot and let Tim take the wheel. He had a little trouble with first gear, but he did okay after that. We were at a big-ass shopping center, and there weren't any cars at the back of the lot near the street. He drove around in there a while.
       "Do you like it," I asked.
       "Kyle, I love it. I want it."
       I was grinning and laughing at how cute he was being. That was a fun car to drive, and I knew we'd both enjoy it.
       "I wish we could put the top down," he said.
       "Let me see if I can figure it out. Stop for a minute."
       It wasn't raining right at that moment. It was sill real cloudy, though, and the air was thick with moisture. It was the kind of day when ordinarily you'd leave the top up, but I was just as curious as he was about what it would be like with the top down.
       It turned out that putting the top down was pretty easy, and I got it down in less than a minute. He drove out into the street, and it felt great riding like that. I made up my mind right then and there that my next car was going to be a Wrangler, too. The trouble was, my Mazda was less than two years old, and I knew my dad wouldn't let me trade it just to get a toy. It didn't actually belong to me, anyway. It was a company car assigned to me. I'd just have to enjoy Tim's car.
       We stayed gone from the dealership for about an hour. I took another turn driving it so that I'd be the one driving when we took it back. Tim was sold on that car, though.
       "Are you looking for something for yourself, Kyle," Allan asked when we got back.
       "No, sir. It's for him," I said. "I'd love to have one, though, but I know my dad won't let me trade yet."
       "Guys, I apologize. I did this all wrong. I didn't even catch your name."
       "Tim Murphy," Tim said, shaking Allan's hand.
       "So, do you like it, Tim," Allan asked.
       "I love it. What time do you close," Tim asked.
       "Not until six o'clock," he said. "Are you going to be trading something, Tim?"
       "I'm not sure what you mean," Tim said.
       "No, he's not," I said. "He meant, do you have another car to trade in for this one, and you don't."
       "Oh, yeah. Right," Tim said. "I wonder when my dad is going to get off today."
       "You want to call him and see," I asked.
       "Yeah."
       I got my cell phone out of my car, and Tim called Doc. It turned out he was in the middle of surgery, and the receptionist told Tim that Doc had a late appointment that day.
       "Damn, he can't get here today," Tim said.
       "We're open every day but Sunday," Allan said.
       "Let's ride up to Marianna. There's a Jeep dealership there. We might be able to do something with the price," I said.
       I said that as much for Allan's benefit as Tim's.
       "There are Jeep dealerships all over the place, too, Tim. Maybe we should do some shopping first," I said.
       "I doubt you'll find a better deal anywhere around here," Allan said.
       "What's the best you can do for us," I asked.
       "Well, let's sharpen the pencil," he said. "Come on inside, fellas. Can I offer you a cold drink?"
       "Yeah, please," Tim said.
       He got each of us a soft drink, and he got one for himself, too.
       "Let's see here. The sticker price is twenty-one five. We can do better than that, though."
       He did some figuring with his calculator.
       "Just a second. Let me have a word with my manager."
       "We probably shouldn't have been as excited about it in front of him as we were," I said. "That might end up costing us a little."
       "We can drive up to Marianna, too, though. And Tallahassee and Ft. Walton, too, even," Tim said.
       "Oh, yeah. No question about it. We can also wait until the end of the month when he really wants to make his quota. He'll come off more then than he will now."
       Allan came back out with another man.
       "Mr. Sparks, I'd like you to meet Tim Murphy and Kyle Goodson."
       "Jimmy Sparks," Mr. Sparks said. We all shook hands.
       "Kyle, I've known your daddy for years, son. I just saw him about a week ago at a Chamber of Commerce meeting. Had lunch with him, in fact. He's a fine man," Sparks said.
       "Thank you, sir," I said.
       "Tim, Allan here tells me you're interested in a Wrangler. Great car for a boy your age. Are you pretty active outdoors?"
       "Yes, sir," Tim said.
       "Do you do any hunting, son," Sparks asked.
       "I haven't yet. I'm mostly on the water, I guess," Tim said.
       "Well, you've got to be one or the other, if you live around here, now, don't you?"
       "Yes, sir," Tim said.
       "Tim, I think we can put you in that car for right at twenty thousand. It's got a lot of extras, and the stereo is about the best you'll find in a sport vehicle like that one," he said. "What do you say?"
       "Well, I like the car, but . . ."
       "But your daddy's got to see it, don't he?"
       "Oh, for sure," Tim said.
       "Well, bring him around, son. We're here every day but Sunday. Who is your daddy, anyway? Do I know him?"
       "I doubt it. He's an oral surgeon on the beach. We haven't lived here very long."
       "An expert at pulling teeth, huh?"
       I knew that was supposed to be a joke, so I laughed to be polite, but there wasn't anything funny about it.
       We told them goodbye and left.
       "What now? Marianna?"
       "Do you feel like going up there," Tim asked.
       "I just want to be with you. I'll do whatever you want," I said.
       "That's very sweet, Kyle. You're a very sweet boy," he said.
       "You little shit."
       We both laughed.
       "Yeah, let's go to Marianna," Tim said. "We don't have anything better to do."
       The dealership in Marianna didn't have as many as the one in our town, but they had one exactly like the one we test drove. The difference was the sticker price was twenty-three thousand.
       "Maybe that Allan guy is right," I said. "Even if they come off some, it probably won't be any more than three thousand dollars."
       "Do you want to drive it?"
       "Not unless you do," I said.
       We drove back to Emerald Beach. That night, Tim was at my house, and we were telling my dad what we had done that afternoon.
       "Jimmy Sparks only came off the sticker by a grand and a half," Dad asked.
       "Yes, sir, that's right."
       "He can do better than that. Has your dad seen the car, Tim?"
       "No, sir. He had a late appointment today. He'll like it, though," Tim said.
       "Did he give you a ballpark, Tim," Dad asked.
       "What do you mean," Tim replied.
       "Did your dad say how much he's willing to spend?"
       "I think twenty thousand is in the ballpark," Tim said. "He didn't know exactly how much they were, but I think he'll spend that much."
       "You know boys, you can spend an awful lot of time and frustration going from place to place comparing apples and oranges when it comes to buying cars. If you know exactly what you want, and they have it in stock, sometimes you're better off paying what they're asking."
       "Would you buy it, Dad," I asked.
       "Yes, I probably would. Why, do you want one, too?"
       "My car's just fine," I said.
       "But you'd like to have one, wouldn't you?"
       I covered my face with my hand. "Daddy, don't make me say it," I said.
       He was laughing his ass off at me, and I wasn't even trying to be funny.
       "Come here, Kyle. Sit in your daddy's lap."
       What!?, I thought.
       I sat in his lap.
       "Jesus Christ! How much do you weigh?"
       "One seventy-five. Why? Am I too heavy for you?"
       All three of us were laughing at the foolishness that was going on.
       "Yes. Get up."
       "No, I want to sit on my daddy's wap," I said in baby talk.
       "I'll wap you a good one."
       "Can Tim sit on your wap, too, Daddy?"
       I moved over to one knee, and Tim sat down on the other one.
       "Y'all are going to cripple me," he said, laughing hard.
       "Let's play horsey." I started bouncing up and down a little.
       "Kyle!" he screamed. Then he started tickling both of us. We squirmed off his lap, though.
       He got on the floor with us and started trying to pin me. We wrestled and tickled and played around for a good fifteen minutes before all three of us were out of breath. We flopped on our backs.
       "We haven't done anything like that since your brother died, have we," Dad said.
       "No."
       He sighed heavily.
       "You're growing up so fast, Kyle. It seems like a month ago you were just a little fellow. Now you're almost a man."
       "Are you sad, Daddy?"
       "I'm really not, son. I wish your brother was still here, of course, but you've given us Tim, now, haven't you? And he's about to turn sixteen. I'm just in a strange mood tonight, son."
       "Daddy, I would like to have one of those Wranglers, but not right now, okay? I want Tim to get all the attention. It's his birthday coming up, after all. Maybe I can get one when I graduate."
       He didn't say anything for a few moments. Then,
       "Kyle, a minute ago, I said you're almost a man. I was wrong. You are a man, son, and a mighty fine one."
       * * *
       Tim ended up getting that car we test drove. They came off the price by another $500 at the end of the month, and we thought that was a pretty good deal.
       He went for his driver's license on the afternoon of his birthday, and he passed the test with flying colors. The car was in his garage, and he drove it legally for the first time that afternoon. He and Brian and I rode down to the Laguna where Jus was working the valet parking. We had him park the car for us so he could drive it, and then he came inside for a cup of coffee with us. When he got the car when we were leaving, Tim tipped him twenty-five cents. Justin flipped him off, and we had a big laugh over that one.

(Tim's Perspective)
       My birthday was unbelievably fun. Besides getting my car, Kyle put on about the best party I had ever been to. He got them to cook a whole pig for us, and it was laid out on the table for everybody to look at. It was almost too pretty to eat, but we forced ourselves.
       Besides giving me the party, Kyle gave me a new skateboard. He wanted to get me all kinds of stuff, like a custom-made cue stick in a carrying case, a new computer, a new suit, whatever. I made him limit it to only one gift, though.
       The thing he did that meant the most to me, though, was to get a new tattoo. It wasn't another picture. It was my name tattooed right below his monkey. My name would be on his body forever. He showed it to me on the morning of my party.
       "Why do you have that band aide on you," I asked. I hadn't noticed it the night before when we made love.
       "Take it off and see," he said.
       "Seriously," I asked. I wasn't interested in seeing some sore or cut, by any means. I might want to be a doctor, but I don't find wounds to be inherently interesting.
       "Yeah. Take it off," he said.
       I was pretty cautious about doing it, but, when I did and saw what was under it, I couldn't help myself. I broke down in tears.
       He cuddled me to himself, smiling his face off. We rocked against one another, rubbing our erections together until we both exploded.
       "I love you, birthday boy," he said.
       "I love you, too, Kyle. More than I can even say."
       "It's going to be a good summer, isn't it," he said. "I'm summer people, Tim, and I think you are, too. We've got to get Jeff a boyfriend."
       "What?! What does that have to do with us being summer people?"
       "Nothing, you little monkey. It just now came to my mind," he said.
       "Kyle, what do you think about," I asked.
       "What do you mean? I think about a lot of things. I think about you a good bit," he said.
       "Do you ever wonder what kind of impression you're making on people or whether they like you or why somebody said whatever it was he said to you or about you?"
       "I don't think about that kind of stuff," he said. "Do you?"
       "Sometimes. If you had lost that election day before yesterday, would you have been upset?"
       He thought for a minute.
       "Probably not. But I'm glad I won, I think. I'll get back to you on that one, though."
       I laughed.
       "Are you nervous about today? About the party and all? By the way, before I forget, thank you so much for going to all that trouble."
       He grinned.
       "It's not trouble when you're doing it for love," he said. "And, no, I'm not nervous about it. The only one who has to like that party, as far as I'm concerned, is you. And you better like it, or I'll eat those bananas right off your gut."
       I laughed.
       "Today will be the first day everybody will see our tattoos. Have you told your parents about it?"
       "No. Shit. I forgot about them," he said with a mock grimace. "They'll be cool about it, though. Have you showed yours to your dad?"
       "Yeah. All he said was, 'hmmmm.'"
       "That's just like him. Then he probably looked up the history of tattoos and the history of bananas."
       I laughed hard. He definitely knew my dad.
       "I think we probably ought to get up, don't you," I said.
       "I don't ever want us to get up. I want us to stay right here forever," he said.
       "All right, dude. Get your ass out of bed. We've got fun to have, food to eat, boats to drive, pool to shoot, and Chris to take care of."
       "Chris is a nice guy, isn't he," Kyle said.
       "No, get up. We're not starting on Chris. Yes, he is a nice guy, and, yes, he loves your ass more than anything, but we're not staying here talking about Chris."
       "God, you are so strict," he said.
       "Somebody in this family's got to be," I said.
       He smiled so sweetly.
       "I love the sound of that, Tim."
       "Me, too."

(Justin's Perspective)
       Well, Kyle did it again. He put on a hell of a party. Of course, I knew he would, for Tim. Hell, he'd' a bought Tim a pig farm if he had wanted one, much less a pig. But that was some good meat, let me tell you. And the best part is, we have a ton of it left over. For a minute, I thought Kyle was fixing to start passing it out for people to take home like a party favor or something. He had the servers put it away in little plastic freezer boxes, and I had a picture of all that delicious meat leaving my life for good. That was just to store the leftovers, though. He didn't give it away, except some to Doc and Sonya, and his parents.
       Tim got him a nice car for his birthday, and right away I got to worrying about Brian. Who's gonna get him a car when he turns sixteen? When I thought about it some more, I thought, Why the hell can't you get him one? He's your boyfriend. I've got almost enough for what they paid for that Wrangler, and I'll have more than enough by next January. Plus, I know ole Kyle will help me with it, if I need him to. Realizing that took a load off my mind.
       Most of the time Kyle took care of Chris on weekends, but he was going to be busy. I decided to step up and take over for my brothers.
       "Justin, I have to go to the bathroom," he said to me.
       "Number one or number two?"
       "Number two," he said.
       "All right. Let's go, Buddy."
       Putting him on the toilet took some skill. You couldn't bend him up straight, so getting his pants and underwear down was a chore. I got 'em down, though, and put him on the seat. Then I started to leave.
       "Stay with me. I'm scared," he said.
       "Scared? Scared of what?"
       "All these people who are here. What if one of them comes in here while I'm in here?"
       "You want me to stay in here while you take a dump?"
       "Yes, Bubba. Please."
       He stuck that little bottom lip of his out so far you could've landed one of Brian's model planes on it, but he was cute as hell doing that. I couldn't say no.
       "All right, but hurry up," I said.
       "Okay, I'm trying. I love Tim's new car, don't you?"
       "Yeah, it's a honey, all right."
       "I wish I could drive a car. I'd want one just like that."
       Still no action in the bowl.
       "I wish I could stay here. I love my dad and all, but I really don't know him all that well. I know he loves me, too."
       No comment.
       "Do you think you might come to Montana to see me some time? You and Kyle and Tim and Brian and Jeff and Kevin and Rick?
       I was getting a little bit impatient.
       "Chris, do you really have to shit, or not?"
       "No, I really do."
       "We're not getting any action out of you, Buddy. Concentrate and stop talking. Get you a mental picture of your asshole with turds slipping out of it and hitting the water."
       Saying that was a big damn mistake. He starts laughing and laughing and laughing, and finally he slips off the toilet onto the floor.
       "Jesus Christ! Are you all right?"
       Well, he thinks that's funnier than hell, and he starts laughing even harder. I'm trying to get his ass back on the seat, and all of a sudden, here it comes. Yeah, buddy! There's shit everywhere. God almighty!
       I must have looked like some kind of possessed man or something because he starts crying like he was afraid I was gonna whip his ass.
       "Don't hurt me, Bubba," he says.
       I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to break his damn neck.
       "I'm not gonna hurt you, Chris. Man, I'm your brother. Your shit-stained brother, at the moment, but still your brother."
       Well, that got him laughing, at least.
       "Are you finished," I asked?
       "I don't know," he said.
       "Well, do you feel like you've got more shit in you? Cause if you do, I'm calling the Guinness Book of World Records on this one."
       He laughed some more.
       "You're not really mad at me, are you?"
       "What good would it do for me to be mad," I asked.
       "I'm finished," he said.
       Whoa! Then I had to wipe him.
       "Can you sit up and bend forward a little bit so I can get to your hole, man?"
       "I'll fall off."
       "Well, how do they do this," I asked.
       "Kyle picks me up and puts me over his arm so he can get to it."
       I tried to get a mental picture of that, but it just wouldn't come. Finally what I did was pick him up, clean off the toilet seat, sit down on it, put him in my lap in the spanking position, and clean him up that way. When I had done as much as I could with the paper, I put him back on the toilet, got a washrag all soaped up, got him back on my lap, and did the final cleanup that way.
       I looked at my watch, and we had been in there a solid hour. So not only was this a record-breaking crap in terms of volume, it was a record-breaker in terms of endurance, too. I got him back in his chair.
       "Okay. Let's get out of here," I said.
       "Justin," he said in this real sweet little voice.
       "What?"
       "I love you."

The End of Kyle, Part 3

       There will be lots more of the adventures of the guys on North Lagoon Drive in Emerald Beach, but this seems like a good place to end Kyle, Part 3. It's the end of the school year, for one thing, and it's time for summer fun to begin. Justin turns 18 in a little over a month, Jeff's period of mourning for Clay is over, Gene's about to put the finishing touches on his big deal to buy the huge resort in the next town over from theirs, and Kyle's about to start his career in the hotel business.
       Summer is typically the season when runaway teens--gay, bi, and straight-- flock to Emerald Beach from all over, and Tyrone Williams, the social worker, has Kevin and Rick's numbers programmed into his cell phone. Tim hasn't seen his grandparents in Boston for a long time, and Brian might get a surprise trip of his own. There's this cute black Labrador puppy that keeps hanging around the place, and Kyle and Tim just can't resist feeding her. Hurricane season starts June 1st, the amusement parks and attractions open for the season during the Memorial Day Weekend, and kids from every state and many foreign countries cruise endlessly up and down the twenty-five miles of "the strip." A lot can happen.
       I have received some very moving and very-much-appreciated email, and I'd like to thank everyone who wrote. A couple of guys--young guys--have written to say that this story has made them feel better about themselves and about being gay. That's the point. We didn't chose to be gay, but, like the guys in the story, we can embrace who we are, move forward with life, and have fun.
       Depending on when you read this, have a great time during whatever holiday is coming up. If you're a runner, try to find ways to run for charity. If you live in a place as hot as Emerald Beach, don't run. Stay inside, fill up the tub with cold water, dump in a couple of bags of party ice, and get in with someone you love. He or she won't care if it shrivels up to nothing. At least y'all will be cool.
       Love, Brew