Working It Out
Book
2
© 2002 by Don
Hanratty
dhanr1@msn.com
Part
1
Mike was pumped.
After two years of pain and
loneliness, the mere sight of Matt made him high. When the initial shock
of seeing his brother and his two kids emerge from the limo in front of his
condo had worn off, he was alive. And it felt damn good, but he tried not
to be too obvious about it.
Mike
helped Matt retrieve the luggage from the car and took his surprise guests
upstairs. Sitting them down in the den, he went back downstairs and untied
Breakers from his tree for a short walk. When he came back, he found Matt
sitting on the big leather couch, with his two little guys walking and crawling
around on the oriental rug in front of the fireplace--a new world for them to
conquer. Breakers went over to them and shoved his cold nose in the boys'
faces, and they laughed and pulled his hair. The dog licked them and
tussled gently with them, new friendships made in an instant.
"I can't believe you're here," Mike said, looking at
Matt and shaking his head.
"Me
either," Matt said. "I know it's not cool of me just to show up without
any warning, but I thought one of us should get off the dime. I figured it
was my move. I hope you're not pissed."
"How long can you stay?"
"I'm on Spring break right now. I have to go back
next Sunday at the latest. Unless you kick us out. ."
"I'm off this next week, too, so. .You and the boys
hungry or anything?" Mike asked.
"I'm
good, but I should rustle something up for the guys--their eating schedule is a
little screwed up from the trip. I have some baby food that they still
like."
Matt searched through a couple
of his suitcases and came up with some strained peaches and two bibs. Mike
retrieved teaspoons from the kitchen. The brothers each grabbed a boy and
put him on his lap, food-proofed him with a bib, and began to dole out the baby
food accompanied by some verbal encouragement. The twins were hungry, and
began eating their brunch without any fuss.
"I should warn you that you'll be seeing these peaches again in another
form," Matt laughed as they spooned the food into hungry mouths.
"That's what the medical books say,"
Mike responded. "I hope it smells better than their dad's."
"Worse! And I want you to get a
good whiff of it later."
Mike laughed,
and they continued spooning the peaches..
"Hey, you're a natural at this, bro!" Matt said when they were finished.
"Just learning from the master," Mike
said. He stood up and put little Matt in his dad's lap, and went to get
warm washcloths to wipe the twins' faces. Afterwards Matt put the twins
back down on the rug. The kids crawled a few feet, looked around a bit
more, and simultaneously decided to crash.
"They always go to sleep that fast?" Mike asked.
"I wish! No, they're a little
tired from the trip."
"Yeah."
"Mike, listen, can I borrow your
truck? I should go get a few things if you're gonna let us stay."
"Yes. I want you to stay.
I'll watch the boys." Mike reached into his pocket and tossed Matt his
keys. "Just hit "B" in the elevator, and it'll take you to the
garage. The truck is in the third parking space on the left."
" 'K. I want to get a couple of
cribs and a playpen. Do we need anything else?"
"Yeah. We should child-proof this place. If
you don't see a slab of foam rubber for sale anywhere, just buy a couple of foam
rubber pillows so we can cut them up. We need to make some pads for the sharp
corners on stuff around here. Oh, and you better get some car seats in
case we want to go somewhere."
Matt
nodded, snatched his favorite baseball cap out of his luggage, put it on,
grabbed his college letter jacket, and left.
Mike couldn't help himself. His eyes glued themselves to Matt's
perfectly contoured ass in those 501's as he walked out, and his dick lurched in
his boxers. Reluctantly averting his gaze, he lay down on the floor on his
stomach and studied his nephews as they slept peacefully on the rug.
The boys were truly beautiful.
They were finely complexioned, their skin a healthy pink color, topped with
blond curls from Sarah's side of the family. Mike tried to find some of
Sarah's looks in their faces, but couldn't--their features were definitely those
of Matt. Their cute little butts tapered down into good, solid, chunky
legs. Yeah, they'll be jocks all right, he thought to himself. I'd
bet on it.
Getting up, he retrieved
two light blankets from a closet and gently covered each of the boys. Then
he lay back down between them to catch a few Z's himself. He felt very
relaxed, and drifted off.
Mike
awakened with a start when Matt touched his shoulder. He had been sleeping
for more than an hour, and the boys were just beginning to stir.
"You get everything?" Mike yawned.
"Yeppers. And then some. I
bought some high chairs, too, and this potty chair, and some strollers.
I'm gonna have to make a couple trips to the garage, though, to bring the rest
of it up," Matt said.
"Gimme the
keys. I'll take a turn."
"
'K. The boys behave?"
"Perfect. Just like their uncle." Mike said with a straight face.
"They were that bad! I'm gonna
give 'em a good spanking, then."
"Uh
huh. Right! Don't make me call Family Services, now!"
Matt laughed, and Mike turned to
go. Matt took his turn watching his brother's butt and his broad shoulders
as he walked out. I've missed that beautiful, sexy, sweet-assed guy, Matt
thought to himself, and then turned his attention to the boys. They were
in the throes of toilet training, but it wasn't a done deal yet. He
sniffed their behinds. The kids still smelled good. Time for a
preemptive strike.
"Guys, why don't we
go to the bathroom, all right?" The boys gurgled at him but were otherwise
mute. Matt took the new potty chair out of its box, picked the boys up,
and headed for a nearby bathroom. He put first one and then the other on
the potty. They each resisted at first, but finally acquiesced and did
their thing. Afterwards, Matt washed their backsides with a warm,
damp wash cloth, re-dressed them, and took them back to the den. They
resumed their crawling and walking around their new world.
Mike came staggering past the door to the den dragging
one of the cribs in its box, and went on down the hall to the middle
bedroom. Matt followed him.
"Man, these things are heavy," Mike said. "I'm gonna put you guys in
this bedroom, if that's all right."
"That's cool. You have tools so we can put these together?"
"Yeah, there's a toolbox under the
sink."
"You want me to bring up the
rest of the stuff?" Matt asked.
"No. I'm gonna get the janitor to help me. He has a cart."
" 'K. I'm gonna start putting
this one together."
Mike left again
for the garage, and Matt went back to the den and brought the boys into the
bedroom. Once again, new worlds for them to conquer, and the kids got
right on it. Matt grabbed the toolbox from the kitchen. After
opening the crib box and reading the directions for setting up the new bed, he
went to work while the boys "helped."
As soon as all the new purchases were upstairs in one spot, Matt and Mike
worked for about an hour and a half putting together the two cribs, a playpen,
the highchairs and the strollers. Miraculously, the right hardware had all
been packed in the proper quantities to get the job done.
Matt's shopping trip had also yielded some foam rubber,
so the brothers cut themselves some foam squares and went around taping them to
all the sharp corners on the fireplace and any tables that posed a problem.
Finally finished, they folded up the
playpen to get it back through the bedroom door and took it to the den.
Plopping the twins in their new little jail, Matt gave them a few of their
favorite toys out of the suitcases, and then he and Mike collapsed on the couch.
"Dude, I never knew you were such a
craftsman," Matt said. "You do good work."
"Pshaw," Mike responded, holding up his hands for
inspection. "These are the hands of an almost-doctor! Maybe those of
a surgeon!"
"A sturgeon? That
sounds fishy to me."
Mike
groaned. "Grad school hasn't done a thing for your sense of humor, I see."
"Why, thanks, bud. It's as
finely tuned as ever."
"Have mercy!"
Matt looked over at his brother slyly.
"I do believe I have a story for
ya. A doctor story, no less!"
"No-o-o-o."
"Yeah. And
don't be howling with laughter and scaring the kids." Matt instructed.
"Don't worry about that. I'm an
adult now. I can take the pain. I guess."
"Well, it seems that a bunch of med students much like
yourself were attending their first lab in pathology class. Each
pair of them had a cadaver on the table in front of him.
"The professor said, 'I want you to pay close
attention, because noticing details and having a strong stomach separate
the good students in pathology from the mediocre ones. Now, I want
each of you to do what I do.'
"The professor took the middle finger of his right hand, plunged it
into the nearest cadaver's rectum, and then quickly brought his hand to
his mouth and licked it.
The students
were stunned, but after a long minute, they did as they had been told.
"'I see you do have strong stomachs,
but your powers of observation need work. You should have noticed
that the finger I actually licked was my index finger.'"
"Ugh," Mike said, "you're as
disgusting as ever! Holy shi..." Mike stopped himself, looking at
the twins, then continued. "I hope the boys got Sarah's sense of humor,
not yours."
"I don't think so,
bud. You know you love it, Mikey."
"Yeah, like root canal."
"Don't
worry, I'll only give you my best material this week."
"Take my advice. Don't ever try to make your
living as a comedian."
"That's my
fallback job if the lawyer thing doesn't work out. I've been honing my
skills."
"Forget the honing.
You'd have done better to concentrate on the law books."
"Don't push me, I have more, you know," Matt said with
a grin.
"And I have earplugs, so give
me a big, hairy break!"
At that point,
little Mike stood up in the playpen, held up his arms, and said, "Potty, daddy!"
"Good boy!" Matt told him.
Putting a kid under each arm, away they went to the bathroom, Matt praising both
of them as they used the potty chair.
Matt and Mike frittered away the afternoon and early evening playing with
the boys, catching up on family, and talking a little about school. Matt
kept the boys up a little past their usual bedtime, and then he and Mike fed
them, bathed them, and eventually put them down. The kids were starting to
call Mike, "Unk Mike," much to his delight.
Mike ordered in some pizza and beer, and he and Matt ate and relaxed in
front of the fire, listening to music on Mike's new entertainment center.
Mike put on some of the classical CD's that Matt had insisted he keep after
Mike's mother was killed. Matt tried from time to time to steer the
conversation toward their relationship, but Mike avoided it, and still feeling
the barrier between them, Matt let it go.
About 11 o'clock, Mike stood up and stretched and yawned, and said he was
going to bed. Matt got up and put his arms around him and kissed him on
the lips. Mike looked Matt in the eye, touched his face, and then headed
for his room. Matt sat back down for a minute, then went to his own room
and checked on the twins. They were sleeping soundly. Stripping to
his shorts, he said his prayers, and fell into bed and dreamless sleep.
All was quiet except for Breakers' toenails clicking down the hall as he went to
Mike's room to settle in for the night.
* * *
Mike awakened slowly
Sunday morning after one of the best night's sleep he had had in a long
time. He could feel Breakers at his feet. Opening his eyes slowly in
the dim light, he was startled to see Matt sitting cross legged in the recliner
about 10 feet from the bed, clad only in those blindingly white jockeys he
always wore. Even in the dim morning light, Mike could see that Matt's
unblemished skin shone with health, and he looked as buff as he did when he was
an 18 year old wrestler.
"Uhhhhh,"
Mike groaned as he rolled on his back, morning wood tenting his boxers and the
bedsheet.
"Morning," Matt said softly.
"Morning. What are you doing?"
"Just thinking, and watching you
sleep."
"Oh."
Silence.
"Can
I get in bed with you?"
Looking over
at Matt, quicksilver emotions cascaded across Mike's face: surprise,
anger, sorrow, suspicion, indecision, longing, love.
Finally, Mike flipped back the covers. "
'K. But I gotta hit the john."
Mike got out of bed, making no attempt to hide his hardon, and Matt
climbed in and waited for his brother to come back.
Mike returned sans his erection, got in bed on his
back, and pulled the sheet up under his chin. Matt turned on his side
toward him, and Mike got a whiff of that clean, healthy smell that Matt always
emanated.
Impulsively, Matt reached
over and smoothed Mike's hair back from his forehead as he had done a thousand
times before. Mike didn't make a sound, but his eyes suddenly filled up
and tears coursed down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to. . ."
Mike couldn't talk for a long moment because of the
lump in his throat.
"It's OK," he
finally said. "It's just. . .I never in a million years thought I would
ever feel you do that to me again."
Matt rubbed the moisture from his own eyes and studied Mike's face.
"Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"Do
you remember the first time we made love up at the lake?"
"Well, yeah. That's one of those experiences you
don't forget."
"It seems like a
lifetime ago," Matt said. "I know you don't really understand why I've done some
of the things I have--I don't even understand it completely myself--but I feel
the same way about you now as I did then. That's never changed. I
have the same butterflies in my stomach right now, too. You make me feel
like no one else in this world ever has."
Mike turned his head and looked into Matt's eyes, saying nothing.
"I love you, Mike. I want you to
know that. I want you to know that if we can make a go of this
relationship again, you will always be number one in my heart from this day
forward. I mean it. I--no, I hope we--will nurture and love the boys
with all the energy and commitment we have. But we both know that if we do
the job for them right, down the line they're going to walk out the door one day
and leave us behind so they can pass on the love they got from us to their
special people, whoever they are. That'll leave you and me right where we
started--with each other. Or at least that's what I want. I'm asking
for another chance."
"Did you love
Sarah, Matt?"
"Very, very, very
much. I thought the world of her. I think I tried to explain this on
the phone to you once, but I admit I don't have the words to put it across very
well. She was truly a wonderful person, and she was far better to me than
I deserved. She would have been a great mother to the boys if she had
lived. She was always supportive, a true friend, although she could be
willful and spirited about some things, just like the rest of us. I miss
her deeply as a person. Sex with her was good. But from the day you
and I started rooming together at school, you've always been the fire in my
soul. You've been the one who gets me off my ass and doing things I need
to do and actually liking it. My spirit and your spirit play off of one
another in a wonderful way. You complete me. I love you, I admire
you, I respect you, I'm always happy when I'm with you, and I'm definitely in
lust with you and your body. You've always been in my heart through
everything, and you always will be, whatever happens. . ."
A thin wail from the next bedroom interrupted, closely
followed by a twin voice of complaint.
Matt's head fell to the pillow in frustration.
"I'd be the last one to tell you that this is an easy
job, bud," he sighed, smiling ruefully. He kissed Mike on the cheek, and
rolled over him to go to the boys.
Mike lay in bed staring at the ceiling thoughtfully for a minute.
Then he got up, and went to help Matt.
They greeted the boys for the new day, cleaned them up, and then Mike
fixed soft scrambled eggs and orange juice for all of them and a pot of coffee
for him and Matt. They managed to get a few spoonfuls of eggs down the
kids along with a little juice, and then Matt put them in their playpen in the
den for a few minutes while he and Mike ate.
"We going to mass?" Matt asked when they finished eating and straightening
up the kitchen.
"I'd like to.
They have a nursery for the kids at St. Stephen's."
"Excellent. What time?"
"Either nine-thirty or eleven. We'd prolly be
cutting it a little close to try and make the nine-thirty."
"That's cool. Eleven it is."
They went into the den and joined the kids, who were
still stuck in their playpen jabbering away to each other.
"We're going to church this morning, guys," Matt said
to them.
"NO!" little Mike shot back.
"Whaddaya mean, NO?" his dad said.
"NO," little Matt threw in his two
cents.
Mike started to laugh.
"They're you all the way, man," he
said. "Every bad thing you ever did to Mom and Dad is going to come back
to haunt you--times two. There is a God."
"Now, boys, after we go to church, we could stop and
get some ice cream," Matt negotiated.
"Ice cream," little Matt shrilled. "Ice cream, ice cream."
"Ice cream," little Mike echoed.
The incipient rebellion quelled for
the moment, Mike took the twins out of the playpen to continue their exploring,
and then went to his front door for the Sunday paper. He and Matt sat in
their shorts drinking coffee, reading and watching the boys toddle around.
When they had each read the sports
page thoroughly and the comics, Matt went to shower, leaving Mike with the
kids. Taking their hands, he walked them slowly from the den into the
living room. He pushed a button next to a light switch, and thirty-five
feet of heavy drapes slowly opened to reveal a wall of glass and a magnificent,
unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. The boys weren't too sure about this,
and stayed well back from the huge windows, but intently watched the waves
splash up on the shore far below. Mike knelt down and talked to them about
the lake.
It looks like a nice Spring
day out, Mike thought to himself. A really great day. He and the
boys went back to the den, the boys jabbering away to each other.
After Matt showered and dressed, Mike
took his turn. Matt put fresh diapers, play suits and shoes and socks on
the kids. When Mike was ready, they helped the boys into their little
hooded jackets, and they went down to the garage carrying the boys and the new
car seats. Matt automatically went to the truck, but Mike waved him over
to an older model white Blazer next to it.
"Is this yours?" Matt asked.
"Yeah. I bought it used from a buddy in med school who needed to
sell it. It's a couple years old, but it's in good shape."
They fastened the car seats securely
in back, buckled the kids in, and away they went.
People were still streaming out of St. Stephen's from
the previous mass when they parked and went in. Matt looked around
appreciatively--it was like coming home for him to be back where he and Mike had
usually gone to church when they were together in Chicago. Racks of votive
lights were flickering, sweet-smelling incense was still floating around in the
clerestory of the old, gothic building, and the massive, free-standing altar
loomed patiently in the gloom at the end of the darkened chancel. Matt and
Mike exited into the parish house, found the nursery, and dropped the boys off
without any protest from them. Then they re-entered the church, found a
pew, and knelt to say their prayers.
The organ began playing softly, the music undergirded by 32 foot bourdon
pipes which were more felt in the gut than heard, and which gently rattled the
stained glass windows. The choir filed in silently to lead the opening
hymn once they were in place. Lent was winding down, soon to be followed
by Passiontide and Easter. The purple-clad celebrant, flanked by a deacon
and subdeacon, began censing the freestanding altar and the huge crucifix,
beginning the formal high mass that was always offered at this hour on Sunday.
The other didn't know it, but Matt and
Mike each gave thanks for the opportunities this coming week would offer them to
share time together. The eucharist was like an old friend as, side by
side, they sang and made the required liturgical responses.
After mass, they collected the boys from the nursery
and headed for a little ice cream shop in Evanston, the boys' reward for going
to church without fussing, although Matt didn't give them all the ice cream they
wanted. Afterwards they drove over to the Northwestern campus, and took
the kids for a short walk along the lake shore. The breeze off Lake
Michigan was cooler than they had expected, so they didn't keep the little guys
out in it for too long.
Mike dropped
Matt and the kids off back at the condo, and made a quick trip to the grocery
and to a nearby video store for a couple of movies.
"What did you get?" Matt asked when Mike came back.
"A couple of steaks we can cook on the
grill later. And 'Platoon' and 'The Matrix.'"
"Ooooo, our man Keanu!" Matt said enthusiastically.
"Yeah. I saw a shot of him on
the net the other day, leaning against his motorcycle with his tool hanging
out. It was a fake, of course, but in the pic he was really hung."
Little Matt picked that moment to
smack his twin and knock him down, for no apparent reason. Mike picked up
the offender, and went and sat on the couch with him while Matt comforted the
victim. The crisis passed quickly, and Matt went and retrieved some more
jars of baby food out of his luggage, and the brothers fed the little guys, who
then decided to take another snooze on the rug. Mike covered them up with
blankets again.
"Ya know, we gotta do
something about these names," Mike said thoughtfully as they sat down on the
couch. "Everybody around here is Matt and Mike. Would you object if
we started calling the boys Matthew and Michael, just to keep things straight?"
"That's cool with me," Matt
said. "An inspired thought, bro! Just like everything you say."
"Aw, shucks, dude," Mike grinned.
"You're as big a bullshitter as ever, I see."
They bantered back and forth for awhile like old times.
"Mike, do you think we could throw a
little get-together for the sisters and Stan Rosinsky and Arnie Watkins, and
maybe Tony Angelo and his wife, while I'm here? I'd really like to see
them."
"That would be cool," Mike
said. "Stan is engaged, so we could invite his fiancée' to come over, too,
and see if she's a good fit for Stan. We might want to have Arnie over
separately, though. He's more flamboyant than ever. I think he might
be more comfortable with just us, and I'm sure I would."
"Well," Matt said slowly. "It's not like I'm
ashamed of him. He's a friend."
"It's up to you, bro," Mike said. "Whatever you say."
"You're probably right," Matt finally said after
thinking it over. "I want to see Arnie in all his flaming glory, not
holding back and trying to look straight--not that he would!"
"All right, why don't we try to set it up for Wednesday
night? And let's ask Arnie for Friday night."
"Excellent! And I want to help you do this, so
don't try to do it all yourself," Matt instructed.
" 'K. Do you know I've never had a party
here? I feel like I'm coming out of my crypt."
"Well, we'll christen the place real good, then."
"I'm thinking about dinner on
Wednesday, not just drinks. And I think we should have dinner catered,
don't you?" Mike asked. "Then we can enjoy the night, too."
Matt laughed and put his arm across
Mike's shoulders and rocked him gently.
"Two great minds racing down the same track to the same destination,
dude!" he said. "My very thought!"
"That's settled, then," Mike said with satisfaction. "Hey, whaddaya
want to do this afternoon?"
"Man, I
need some exercise. Will you watch the boys while I take a run on the
beach?"
"No problem. We'll take
turns," Mike said.
" 'K. Uh, can
I borrow a jock and a pair of shorts? I knew I'd forget something when I
packed."
"Sure," Mike said, and Matt
followed him back to Mike's bedroom.
Mike reached into his bureau drawer for a clean jock. Matt cleared
his throat.
"Um, give me one you've
already worn. You remember the good old days in our apartment when you
used to practically snatch my smelly ol' jock right off my body? Well,
buddy, this worm has turned and seen the wisdom of your ways."
Mike smiled and went over to his closet, and from a
pile of dirty clothes in a laundry bag on the floor picked out a jockstrap and
pair of running shorts. He handed them to Matt, who put them over his face
and stood there inhaling Mike's male smells for a long moment without a trace of
self-consciousness. Then he went to his room, stripped, and dressed for
his run.
Mike met him at the front
door before he left, and handed him the building and condo keys on an elastic
wristband.
"Don't wear yourself out,
you jocknapper!" he told Matt, pinched his ass, and quickly shut the door behind
him to avoid retribution.
Matt came
back in about an hour all sweated up despite the cool temperatures, and Mike was
waiting, dressed for his own run. Mike left with Breakers in tow, and Matt
put the boys in the playpen so he could grab a quick shower. When Matt
finished, he took a quick peek at the kids, who were taking a little
mid-afternoon siesta. He covered them up, got dressed, and then went back
to the den. Taking a long match from its container on the mantle, he
turned on the gas and lighted the fireplace. The blue and yellow flames
cheered the room.
Matt lay down on the
big leather couch, and smiled involuntarily as he reflected on his visit so
far. He thought he had had a good memory of the intense satisfaction
it gave him to be around Mike, but the real thing was better by far.
After a few minutes, he went to sleep.
Mike returned in a little over an hour, showered and dressed, and woke
Matt up. They fed Matthew and Michael, and then Mike defrosted the steaks
and fired up a gas grill out on a balcony off the den. He asked Matt to
nuke some potatoes in the microwave, and while the steaks were cooking on the
grill, he worked on a sliced cucumber, green pepper and tomato salad which he
covered in red wine vinaigrette. Before long they were contentedly chowing
down in front of the fireplace on TV trays.
"I don't remember your being such a good cook," Matt said. "This is
great. The steaks are excellent! You're a cute Julia Childs,
y'know."
"Survival skills," Mike said
between bites. "If you eat crap all the time, you'll look like crap.
And feel like it."
"Dr. Mike
speaks! But it must be true! You look good, bro."
"So do you. Have you been working out, or what?"
"Once in awhile. But you'll get
a laugh outta this. I've invaded the kingdom of wimps--lately I've been
swimming three times a week."
"That's
excellent. There's no better exercise in the world. But I don't care
if I ever step foot in a pool again. Competitive swimming burns you
out. You just get to the point where the only water you want to see is in
your shower."
"Yeah. I guess
that's true of most competitive sports after awhile. It's hard to face the
grind even one more time. By the way, when did you start wearing a brush cut
instead of a high and tight?" Matt asked.
"A couple months ago. I just wanted a change, but I still didn't
want to mess with long hair. Maybe my old high school fantasies of life as
a Marine finally died, I don't know. Anyway. . ."
They ate in silence for a few minutes, glancing over at
the boys every so often as they tried to escape the confines of the playpen.
"Hey, what did you think about the
Supreme Court decision on the Boy Scouts," Matt asked as he chewed steak.
"Well, I wasn't too happy about
it. Have you talked to Dad about why he voted with the majority in that
case? I think it was one of those 5 to 4 votes."
"No. I'd like to, but he's pretty reticent
sometimes about discussing the Court's decisions."
"What did you think about it?"
"I thought they made the right decision," Matt said.
"I'm surprised," Mike said.
"It was a tough case. It seems
to me that you had two important constitutional principles colliding: the
right of a protected class in New Jersey, namely gays, to be accommodated with
membership in a voluntary organization, over against the right of free
association implicit in our federal Constitution. The Court essentially
said that the right of free association is paramount. You can't make
Americans, outside of certain employment situations where someone's livelihood
is at stake, associate with people they don't want to be around, no matter how
ill informed and ill advised their personal judgments may be. When it
comes to gay rights, the decision actually works in our favor, too. It
means we also have the right to associate with those we want to be around, and
don't have to be around those we don't want to be around. Pretty basic.
"I just wish the case had never gone
to court in the first place" Matt continued. "I feel bad for the guy who
brought the suit--he sounds like an exemplary person, and he was wronged.
But it's the Boy Scouts' loss, practically speaking, if they don't want to train
kids for life in the real world today. This is a diverse country.
'We're here, and we're queer!' The Scouts may have won the battle, but
they lost the war, because I think their support is going to erode from here on
out as a result of their position."
Mike sat back on the couch, deep in thought.
"I hadn't thought about it in those terms, to be
honest," he said. "I hate to say it, but you're probably right. And
so was Dad, which doesn't really surprise me."
"Have you talked to Mom and Dad lately?" Matt asked.
"No, it's been a couple of weeks."
"Why don't we call them tonight?"
"Sounds good. . ."
Mike was interrupted by his namesake, who was holding
up his arms in the playpen, yelling, "Potty, potty, potty!" Matthew soon
echoed his sentiments, addressing his supplication to "Unk Mike."
Matt smiled broadly. "Annoying,
huh? But not as annoying as changing diapers all the time, take it from
one who knows. But this better not be a trick to get out of jail."
The brothers each picked up a boy and
took him to the bathroom, praising them effusively all the way for signaling
they had to go.
That duty done, they
brought the boys back and put them down on the rug. Matthew and Michael
immediately stood up and began toddling around, their balance seeming to improve
by the minute.
Mike watched them, and
then looked at Matt.
"I love
'em. I could kiss their little faces off. But you knew I would."
"Yeah, I knew. I admit it."
Mike stood, and began to collect
dishes and silverware from the TV tables to load the dishwasher.
"What do you want for dessert?" he
asked Matt.
"Ice cream and cookies?"
Matt said inquiringly.
"You got it."
Matt proudly observed his sons walking
around, loving them as they rejoiced in their newfound mobility. Mike came
back from the kitchen with a package of Pecan Sandies and two bowls of vanilla
ice cream and sat down. The boys were all over them in an instant.
Matt limited the kids to two small spoonfuls of ice cream each and put them back
in their playpen. They briefly shrilled their displeasure, then turned
their attention to the toys Matt had put in the playpen with them.
"Why don't we watch Keanu?" Mike
asked.
"Cool."
Mike retrieved "The Matrix" from its box on the table,
slipped it into the VCR, and he and Matt let the wizardry of the story and the
special effects weave their spell. Mike laid down on the couch, face to
the TV, and put his shoeless feet in Matt's lap. Matt began squeezing and
massaging his brother's feet through his sweatsocks as they intently watched the
film action.
"You can see the guy's
hot, even if the long coats and stuff don't show off his bod," Matt observed.
"Yep."
Except to exclaim about some of the action scenes, they
hardly talked until the movie was over.
By then it was early evening, the sun was setting, and it was time to give
the boys a bath and put them to bed. Mike filled the tub with warm water
while Matt undressed them and put them gently in the tub. Mike washed one
and Matt the other. Matthew and Michael loved bath time, and splashed each
other and Matt and Mike until they were sopping wet and the entire bathroom
floor was full of water.
"Swimmers in
the making," Mike commented as they were drying the kids off and putting fresh
diapers on them.
"Wimps in the
making? I don't think so! When they really mature, they'll be
wrestlers," Matt countered.
"They're
gonna be too smart to be wrestlers," Mike shot back.
"When they understand that 'Wrestlers Rule,' they'll
choose the right path. I can't wait until they're big enough to start
pinning your cute little behind to the mat."
"Shoot! They won't have any more luck than you ever did, and that
was damn little. I was always too fast for your fat butt to catch, and you
know it."
"That was just because I was
kind to you, and let you think you had escaped. I couldda had you, and you
know it."
"You had me, if I recall
correctly, but not as a result of your great wrestling talent," Mike said.
"It must have been your charm."
Matt's
face reddened for a second and he grinned.
"Well, that's another matter,' he said.
Mike laughed as they finished with the boys, and
carried them in their PJ's back to the den for their story before bed.
Matt gave Mike the kids' favorite storybook, and Mike sat on the couch with a
little guy in the crook of each arm as he read to them. Matthew and
Michael knew that particular story so well that they sometimes said the words
before Mike spoke them. By the time he finished the short little book, the
boys' eyes were sleepy, and he and Matt carried them to their cribs and put them
down, complete with lots of kisses. The boys giggled, and then were out
like a light.
"Kids smell great after
a bath, don't they?" Mike observed as they went back to the den.
"Yeah. Just like their dad."
Mike groaned.
They called their parents in Washington. Jane
Broman hadn't left for home yet after spending the weekend, and they all had a
great talk. The elder Bromans' relief that the breach between Matt and
Mike appeared to be healed was almost palpable over the phone, although not a
word was said about it. The guys told their parents how much they missed
them, and it was true. Then Matt and Mike tried to call Jeff and Martha,
but got no answer at the apartment at school. So Mike got on the phone to
Sisters Angeline and Catherine, Stan Rosinski, and Tony Angelo about coming to
dinner on Wednesday night. All accepted, although Tony told them that his
wife was in Oregon taking care of her mother, who had recently fallen and broken
her hip. Then he called Arnie, who wasn't home, so he left a voicemail
about Friday night.
* * *
Mike woke up early,
as usual, looked over at the recliner, and was a little disappointed. No
Matt this morning. They had slept separately again. As he rolled
over, he bumped into something. Turning his head, there was Matt in his
jockies next to him in bed, sound asleep on his stomach, lying on top of the
covers. Breakers jumped off the foot of the bed, stretched, and walked
away.
Adjusting his usual morning
erection and moving very slowly, Mike eased out of bed and used the
bathroom. When he came back, Matt was still sleeping. Mike slipped
under the covers, and touched Matt's shoulder. His eyes popped open, and
he smiled into Mike's blue eyes. Matt's jockies were tented bigtime.
"Morning," Matt said quietly.
"Morning. How long have you been
here?" Mike asked.
"Awhile."
"You must be cold. Get under the
covers," Mike instructed.
" 'K.
Let me use the john first. 'I'll be bock,'" Matt said in his Arnold
Swartzenegger voice.
He
returned. Mike flipped back the covers for him, and Matt climbed in bed
and kissed Mike's cheek.
"You're
freezing," Mike said, enveloping him in a hug.
"You're gonna make me hard, bro," Matt warned.
"Then I'll hafta take advantage of ya."
"Yeah," Mike said, loosening his grip.
They were silent for several minutes. Then Mike turned back to his
brother.
"Matt. . ."
"Yes?"
"I
think I need to be as open and honest with you as you've been with me."
"Oh, man," Matt said. "Don't. ."
"I'm totally in love with you," Mike
blurted out. "That hasn't changed since the day we met, no matter how hard
I've tried to kill it. I love you so much, my chest hurts. I get a
lump in my throat just looking at you. And I love the twins to death."
Matt let go of his pent-up breath.
"I was afraid you were going to say
something else and kick my ass out," he said. "There's a problem, though?"
"Yeah. My problem, not
yours. I'm having one hell of a time letting go of feeling hurt. I'm
not saying this to heap more guilt on you, but you broke my fucking heart,
man. I was so depressed that I didn't even jack off for a year after we
broke up, let alone have sex with anybody. Wet dream city. If it
hadn't been for running on the beach and school, I don't think I would have made
it. The pain's been something I've lived with for so long now that I don't
know how to live without it. It's like an old ogre that sits on my
shoulder all the time and whispers negative shit in my ear. I'm not sure I
know how to be really happy anymore. My mind forgives you for what's
happened, but the little voice keeps telling me not to make myself vulnerable
again."
Matt said nothing, but moved
closer and put his head next to Mike's until they were touching on the pillow.
"Help me, bro," Mike said
softly. "I don't know what to do or how to do it, really. But I do
love you, and I want to be with you and the kids."
Matt remained quiet, but pulled Mike over close to him
and held him tightly in his arms. They kissed gently.
A minute later, a clatter arose from the next bedroom
as one of the boys began vigorously shaking the side of his crib and crying.
Matt sighed and then laughed.
"How the hell do they know? What
timing!" They reluctantly climbed out of bed and went together to see to
their small charges.
After they fed
the boys and ate breakfast themselves, Mike suggested that they take a field
trip down to the Museum of Natural History. Matt agreed. They
planted the boys in their playpen in the den, and went to shower. Mike was
walking down the hall to shower in his own bathroom, when Matt's hand reached
out as he went by and pulled him into one of the guest bathrooms. Mike
just smiled contentedly and allowed himself to be stripped of his boxers and
pulled into the shower with Matt. They washed each other's body as only
two people in love can, exploring every curve, plane and crevice. Matt
bent down at one point and kissed the end of Mike's dick, but they didn't go any
farther. They each stepped out of the shower with stiffies, toweled each
other off gently, and Mike went to his room to get dressed.
"I love you, Mike," Matt said to his retreating, naked
back.
Mike smiled to himself and
continued walking. "Love you, too, bro."
They dressed, and met in the den to decide how to dress
the twins for their outing.
Mike was
wearing a U2 T-shirt with baggy carpenter's pants and work boots, which drew a
second look from Matt.
"Stylish,
dude!" he told Mike. "But those pants hide your cute butt a little too
much for my taste."
"We all hafta make
sacrifices," Mike said, bending down to put a pair of bright red pants on
Michael.
"Doesn't matter, I know where
it is," Matt said, giving Mike's ass a good, hard pinch.
Mike jumped, scaring Michael, who started whimpering.
"Jeez, Matt, now see what you
did." Mike gave his brother a dirty look.
"I'm sorry, both you Mikes. But that felt so
good!"
"Nice guy!" Mike picked Michael
up, and held him and kissed him until he quit fussing.
They finished dressing the kids, and putting each twin
in a stroller, went down to the garage. Soon they were on their way south
along the lakefront on Lakeshore Drive in the Blazer. It was a magnificent
day, a little cool, but sunny, and the buildings along the lake glistened in the
sun.
"Spectacular!" observed Matt as
they drove.
"Yeah," Mike agreed.
"I never get tired of it."
When they
reached the curve in the Drive where the guys had taken their unplanned swim
their first night in town, Mike pointed at it silently. Matt nodded in
satisfaction, remembering the family they had saved from drowning in their
submerged car.
When they reached the
Museum, the parking lot was just starting to fill. They parked and
disembarked, the twins happy to be out of the confining car seats.
They wheeled the strollers with one
hand and walked the boys with the other toward the Museum for a little way, and
then put the boys in the strollers and went in the magnificent front entrance of
the building. Matt paid for all of them, and they began their tour.
The twins appeared awestruck at the sweeping vista of the entrance hall,
dominated by a huge dinosaur, but after that it was business as usual for them.
Matt and Mike wandered somewhat
aimlessly through the immense complex, stopping once to take the twins to the
bathroom and buying some bottled water, which they shared with the boys.
"Did you know," Mike asked Matt, "that
humans share about 99% of our genomic makeup with chimpanzees?"
"Some more than others," Matt said mischievously.
"Oh, man!" Mike said under his breath.
They continued walking around and
chatting until lunchtime, with the boys alternating between sleeping and
jabbering to each other and to their chauffeurs. Then they went in the
cafeteria, Matt wheeling both boys to an empty table and Mike going through the
line getting him and his brother hamburgers and fries, and more bottled
water. Matt grabbed a couple of child seats, and soon the boys were
helping themselves to a few fries and water.
"Don't give 'em too many fries," Matt said. "I don't want 'em to get
sick."
" 'K. This isn't the best
thing for 'em."
Matt sighed. "I
know."
When they were finished, they
walked around about another hour, with the twins sound asleep in their
strollers. Mike suggested they go back to the condo so that they could
each get in a run on the beach before it cooled off too much.
"I marvel at your grasp of the appropriate!" Matt said.
"Bro, you're so full of crap your eyes
are brown. You're gonna make an excellent lawyer."
"Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"Say it!"
"I loathe you."
Matt broke up, and on that note, they wheeled the twins
out of the museum and headed for home.
* * *
After they had each
had their run on the beach and showered, Matt and Mike passed the rest of the
afternoon verbally jousting with each other and playing with the boys, who were
steadier on their feet and more mobile with each passing hour. It felt
like old times, even with the kids.
Mike put a British group called Coldplay on the stereo, and they mellowed
out to some tunes while Mike got on the phone with one of Chicago's premier
restaurants and set up the catering and service for their party on Wednesday
night.
At supper time, while Mike fed
the boys and then read some of their favorite stories to them, Matt defrosted
some fish and sautéed it, and made a tangy German potato salad and a small
lettuce and tomato salad.
Mike was
impressed.
"You're still a heck of a
chef, dude. Maybe lawyering shouldn't be your thing," he said as he and Matt ate
hungrily. Breakers watched intently as every bite disappeared.
Bending down from his seat on the couch, Mike gave the dog a piece of fish,
which was wolfed down quickly.
"Time
will tell," Matt said. "If Breakers keels over tonight, obviously something went
wrong in the kitchen."
"Then you'll
have to give him mouth to muzzle resuscitation."
"You'll hafta show me how," Matt said. "You have
a very talented mouth, as I recall."
"I only know the techniques you taught me," Mike responded. "That
pretty much includes every scuzzy sex trick in the book, I might add."
"You are such a brat!" Matt
said. "I'll put a wrestling hold on you that'll make you beg for
mercy. It's long overdue."
"As
always, lardbutt, you'll hafta catch me first, and that's never been your strong
suit."
"All right, that's it, it's
joke time! And when you're weak from laughter, you're gonna get the
grapevine again. One of your favorite holds, judging from your screams of
pain years back."
"I said that being a
chef might be your thing, not comedian. No stories!" Mike
instructed. "You'll warp the kids, you perv."
"No, no. Now, let's see, I'm sure I have
something in my repertory for ya, bro. Oh, yeah. . .
"When she heard that her elderly grandfather had passed
away, a young college girl went back to her hometown to visit her
grandmother. When she asked how her grandpa had died, her grandma
explained, 'He had a heart attack during sex on Sunday morning.'
"Horrified, the girl suggested that
having sex at the age of 94 was surely asking for trouble.
"'Oh no," her grandma replied, 'we had sex every Sunday
morning. We did it in time with the church bells, in with the dings
and out with the dongs.'
"Grandma
paused, and wiped away a tear.
"'He'd
still be alive today if that damn ice cream truck hadn't gone by just as
the church bells were ringing.'"
Mike groaned, and suddenly grabbed Matt, pushed him
down on the couch, and held him there, face to face.
"That's the worst story you've ever told, and that's
saying a lot." Mike said. "If the boys had heard you, they'd be crying in
shame for their dad right now."
"Does
this mean you liked it?" Matt asked, laughing at his brother's reaction.
"I have more, y'know."
Clasping Mike
to him tightly, Matt planted a long, slow, tender kiss on his lips.
Mike kissed back, and they lay there
for a moment looking into one another's eyes. Then they started to get
hard, and unclinched and sat back up on the couch. The boys toddled over
and looked at them curiously.
"Your
daddy just told a bad joke," Mike said to them, a little out of breath from the
encounter. "I don't ever want to hear a joke outta you guys," he said with
mock seriousness. "Say, 'I promise, Uncle Mike.'"
"I pwomise, Unk Mike," Michael said, much to Mike's
delight. Matthew followed his brother's example, and they each repeated it
several times, not having a clue what they were saying.
Mike gloated.
Matt pretended to pout, muttering "Traitorous brats!" softly under his
breath.
They bathed and put the boys
to bed a little earlier than usual that evening, and spent time watching TV,
playing a couple games of chess, and talking. Mike really opened up for
the first time and described the grind of medical school and what his life had
been like in Chicago, and it was as if a dam had burst. He realized what a
great feeling it was to be with someone with whom there were no barriers, no
secrets, no defenses. How many people, he thought to himself at one point,
are lucky enough to have that kind of relationship with anyone in their life?
After the local TV news was over, Mike
took Breakers downstairs for his nightly walk, and Matt checked on the twins,
stripped to his jockeys, and got into his bed to say his prayers.
Mike came back upstairs, and went into
his own bedroom with the dog. Matt heard Mike's door shut, and then about
10 minutes later, open again. Mike came into Matt's room in his
boxers. In the dim light from the hall, he walked over to Matt's bed, took
his hand, and mutely motioned with his head for Matt to follow him. They
went into Mike's room and stood beside the bed. Mike lowered his head and
gently kissed Matt's chest.
"Are you
sure?" Matt asked softly.
"Yes."
They stripped each other of their
shorts and climbed into bed. Not touching, they lay on their sides facing
one another in the low light of the bedside table, just staring into one
another's eyes.
"If I died right now
and I never saw you or touched you again, I'd thank God for this minute in time,
Mike." Matt reached over and touched Mike's face, and caressed his hair
back from his forehead.
"Listen, I've
done everything and used every trick in the book not to love you, Matt,
including trying to hate you, but nothing works," Mike responded. "Maybe I'm
just weak, I don't know. But despite everything that's happened, the one
thing I've never doubted about you is that you're a good person even though you
hurt me. I loved everything about you when we were teenagers, and that
hasn't changed. To me, you're the total package. As far as the twins
go, I'm not just enamored of them, I love them and want to commit to them.
So. . . how many people get second chances like this, assuming you're serious
about wanting to be together again?"
Matt was totally blown away, and couldn't talk at first.
Finally he said solemnly, "You've just put the joy back
in my life, Mike. No one or no thing or no accomplishment in my life has
ever made me feel the way you do. No one has ever given me the pure joy
and energy you do just being around you. I'm the weak one. But you
make me happy. That's the bottom line. You don't know how I've been
praying that we could get back together. I love you."
"I love you, Matt, completely. I want you so
bad."
Mike put his hand on Matt's
chest as it rose and fell, and felt his heart beating, and pulled him
close. Cupping Matt's groin, he found that his brother already had a giant
erection, and stroked his dick a couple of times.
Matt's breath made a whooshing sound as he exhaled.
"Easy does it, dude," he said.
"I'm so horny that if you stroke me one more time, I'm gonna cum in your hand."
"I'm almost there, too," Mike
said. "So much for foreplay, huh?"
"I want to do everything, but let's sixty-nine first," Matt whispered
urgently. "I want your dick in my mouth right now."
" 'K," Mike said, and moved into position, still on his
side, feeling Matt take him in. He gently took Matt's cock in his own
mouth, already tasting his sweet precum, and then smoothly swallowed the whole
thing right down to his brother's pubes. Withdrawing to Matt's cockhead,
he just held it in his mouth, quiescent, motionless except for his tongue
circling the corona. That was all it took. Breathing hard, Matt
began to ejaculate thick ropes of cum, coursing over Mike's tongue and crashing
into the back of his throat. That put Mike over the edge himself, and he
followed suit.
They both swallowed as
fast as they could, to no avail. Sperm began to run down the sides of
their faces as they continued ejaculating until, at long last, they were
spent. Neither of them released the other's dick from his mouth for a long
time, just content to taste, smell, feel, savor the experience so long denied.
Mike eventually realigned himself
until they were face to face, Mike on top, and they kissed passionately, tasting
one another's essence. Mike licked Matt's face clean, and Matt
reciprocated. Bathed in sweat from the intensity of their coupling, they
held each other in a coma-like state and dozed.
About 15 minutes later, Matt awakened and moved, waking
Mike. They kissed again, their tongues thrusting and massaging for a long
time.
"Matt."
"Yeah?"
"Telling you I love you doesn't seem enough."
"I know."
They both began getting hard again.
"Fuck me, bro," Mike said in Matt's ear.
" 'K," Matt said. "You don't hafta ask
twice. You got lube?"
"I'll get
some, if I can find it." Mike climbed off Matt, and went over to his
dresser, his dick fully erect again and swaying tightly up against his
stomach. He pulled some KY out of a drawer.
"And a rubber if you want me to use one," Matt added.
"Do we need one? You tell me."
"I haven't been with anyone since
Sarah. You?"
"Nope. Since
you, it's just been me and my constant companion," Mike said, holding up his
right hand.
Mike came back to bed, lay
on his back, and handed the lube to Matt.
Matt began licking his lover's body, probing his ears and navel, biting
the nipples of that beautiful chest, and finally raising Mike's legs and giving
him a lengthy, vigorous and intrusive rimming, accompanied by Mike's sighs of
approval.
Then Matt opened the tube of
KY and squeezed some jell on his three middle fingers. Watching Mike's
face for any signs of discomfort, he found Mike pucker again, caressed it
lightly with the lube, and gently worked his middle finger past the
sphincter. Moving farther up his chute, he couldn't resist probing Mike's
prostate, and Mike's eyes widened at the stimulus.
When Mike's anus loosened with the one finger, Matt
added the index finger, carefully widening and probing as he proceeded.
As soon as Mike appeared comfortable
with all three fingers inserted, Matt withdrew them. Massaging KY on his
cock, Matt put Mike's legs on his shoulders and probed his anus with his dick
until it popped in.
"Take it
easy. It's been a long time," Mike admonished, panting a little.
"Just say the word, and I'll stop,"
Matt said. He paused, motionless, just inside the threshold until Mike
seemed more relaxed, and then moved up and in with tiny thrusts, Mike
occasionally stopping him to adjust to the stretching. When his dick was
completely buried to the hilt inside his brother, Matt leaned down, and licking
his way up Mike's abdomen, nibbled his nipples again. They kissed long and
passionately before Matt began thrusting in earnest.
Matt long-dicked him, almost withdrawing with each
thrust, and then plunging back home, making sure he hit the prostate each time
on the way back in. Mike's penis began to dribble precum on his
stomach. Matt scooped some up and put it to his lips. It tasted as
sweet as he remembered.
Mike looked up
at the beautiful man lying on top of him, pleasuring him at last as he had been
longing for. He began relaxing his rectum as Matt thrust, and squeezing as
hard as he could as he withdrew. As their prolonged session continued,
their sweat commingled, with Matt rubbing Mike's dick with his perspiring chest
and stomach with each new invasion of his brother's ass. The pace
gradually quickened. Matt began to groan as he built to an inevitable
climax, which occurred simultaneously with Mike's own. As Mike felt Matt's
cum gush into his insides, his own ejaculation pelted his face and tapered off
down his chest with each successive shot.
Not ready to withdraw, Matt draped himself full length on Mike and laid
his head on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. They were quickly glued
together by Mike's cum. Totally relaxed, entwined, they fell asleep in
that position.
When Matt woke up,
still on top of Mike, the digital clock on the bedside table said 5:00 in big,
red numerals. He raised himself a little to break the bond of dried semen
with his brother, and slid to Mike's side, trying not to wake him. But
Mike's blue eyes opened slowly as he shuddered and stretched. He regarded
Matt with a growing smile.
"Am I
imagining things, or was that better than ever?" he whispered. "I didn't
think that was possible."
"You're not
wrong, bud. A lot depends on your partner, of course," Matt agreed,
grinning back. "Those who think it's all downhill from age 19 need a
reality check."
Matt took Mike's
closest hand in his, and bringing it to his lips, kissed it.
"I love you with all my heart, Mike," he said,
caressing his brother's face.
Mike
looked at him, saying nothing, and then crawled out of bed, pulling Matt with
him. Holding Matt's hand, Mike led his brother down the hall to the den,
both of them as beautifully naked and unselfconscious as jaybirds. Taking
him into a corner where a crucifix was hanging, Mike found a small votive candle
in one of the drawers, lighted it, and dropped it into its holder under the
cross.
They stood hand in hand, and
prayed together silently.
"You taught
me that, dude," Mike said when they finished.
Part
2
For some inexplicable
reason, the twins were sleeping a little later than usual. Matt and Mike
had returned to bed and sleep after their sojourn down the hall to the den at 5
a.m. to light a candle.
Matt awakened
first, and without moving looked over at Mike. He unconsciously moistened
his lips as he thought about the ways the two of them had pleasured each other
the previous night. The urgency of sexual desire having been well
quenched, now Matt's eye was on Mike for the sheer beauty of his form.
Matt's glance caressed his partner at
rest. He wanted in all innocence to put his hand on that beautiful chest,
uncovered to the waist, but restrained himself. He didn't want to wake him
and then lose sight of him for even a moment as he inevitably rose and went
about the day's tasks.
Mike's big
hands rested on top of the sheet, his square, masculine fingers slightly splayed
in repose. His face was lightly peppered with morning stubble; it had
changed little over the years he and Matt had been apart. It was a little
more mature, perhaps, but still exceptionally handsome and youthful and healthy
looking. A few dark blond hairs from Mike's longish brush cut lay down on
his forehead, but Matt resisted the temptation to smooth them back.
Have I ever been this happy, Matt
asked himself. He could count those times on the fingers of one hand, and
except for the birth of the twins, all of them had principally involved
Mike. It doesn't get better than this, his inner voice told him.
Enjoy it! Glory in it!
"Hey,"
Mike said softly, breaking into Matt's reverie.
Saying nothing, Matt took Mike's closest hand and
brought it over to his own chest and held it there.
"Good heart beat, bud," Mike said after a minute.
"I don't even need a stethoscope."
"Any clue how happy you make me, Mike?"
"Yep." Mike took his hand back and turned on his
side toward his lover, resting his head and now the other hand on Matt. He
stroked Matt's chest gently.
"I want
to do something really nice for you, Mike," Matt said. "No, something
great for you. I just don't know what."
"You can mark that off your list, bro."
"Whaddaya mean?" Matt asked.
"Well, thanks to you, we've started
working through a shitload of hurt feelings and confusion and mistrust and
stubbornness, mostly mine, and ended up where we should be. Right here,
right now. You're a badass jock, bro, and you don't give up. You
keep pushing the envelope until reality is what you want it to be. Thank
God for that. I'm a lucky man!"
"I'm no hero, Mike. It was up to me to try to make things
right. I'm the one who's been blessed."
"Don't argue with me, or I'll hafta hurt ya."
Mike kissed his partner slowly, gently, his lips lingering on Matt's.
The sound of a crib being vigorously
shaken in the next bedroom cut their exchange short. They unclenched,
stretched, groaned, and crawled out of bed to tend to the boys. The twins
stopped their noise-making when Matt and Mike entered their room, and held up
their arms to be picked up. Then it was off to the bathroom for morning
ablutions.
After the boys were cleaned
up and fed, Mike put them in their play pen, and he and Matt showered
together. They washed one another, and then clung together under the warm
spray.
Playfully pinching Mike's ass,
Matt mimicked Dean Martin and crooned, "When you swim in a creek, and an eel
bites your cheek, that's a moray." Mike just rolled his eyes.
Emerging from the shower at last, they
dried off, dressed and joined the twins in the den while they had their own
breakfast of coffee, juice and toast. Mike took Breakers downstairs for
his morning walk, and when he returned the boys were reconnoitering the den yet
again. They made a beeline for the dog, and the three of them rolled
around on the floor.
"Breakers is
really good with the boys," Matt commented, looking up from the morning
newspaper.
"Yeah," Mike agreed.
"Goldens have a reputation for getting along with kids."
They laughed as they watched the boys torment the dog,
who tormented them back by holding them down with his big front paws and licking
their faces until they squealed and rolled away. The kids were persistent,
but the dog was quick, so it was generally a draw.
"Listen, what do we need to do to get ready for
tonight?" Matt asked, folding up the paper.
"Well, I guess I'll hafta try something unprecedented, and run the vacuum
cleaner. And we'll need to dust the furniture, I s'pose. And we
prolly should set the table in the dining room."
"The dining room? Where is it? I haven't
seen it."
"C'mon," Mike said.
Leaving the kids with Breakers for a few minutes, they went through the living
room and turned left. Behind double doors was a sizable room with a table
that would comfortably seat about 12 people, maybe 16 in a pinch. One wall
was floor to ceiling windows like those in the living room, covered by sheers
with drapes tied off at each side, facing the north side of the city. A
small, crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling, and a breakfront
with glass doors displayed a nice dinner service. A 6 foot long buffet
table sat to one side, next to a door that opened into the kitchen.
The furniture was covered with a layer
of dust, and Matt drew a big heart with an arrow through it and his and Mike's
initials on the table top.
"Mom and
Martha sure did a nice job furnishing the room, doncha think?" Mike asked.
"But y'know, I've never eaten a meal in here."
"Beautiful room, Mike. It's perfect," Matt said.
Matt had an epiphany. Seeing the
dusty table, and hearing Mike say that he had never once used the dining room
since he moved in, brought home to him in a new way--to his gut now and not just
his intellect--how alone, how isolated Mike must have been over the past three
years. The personal cost to Mike of their breakup knifed through him yet
again, as he felt deep inside how devastated his brother must have been.
Matt's sorrow had been real enough before, but from that moment on it had new
emotional dimensions.
He tucked his
painful new awareness away for later consideration when he was back at school
and alone with his thoughts. He didn't want to bring Mike down by
reprising the whole matter yet again at that point.
Breakers came bounding into the dining room, and when
Matt and Mike looked out into the living room, the boys were toddling after him
as fast as their short, chunky little legs could carry them. Breakers ran
back into the living room and headed for the den, dodging around the boys.
The twins immediately reversed course and were hot on his trail. Matt and
Mike laughed and followed the pack back to the den.
"I'm loving this, Matt," Mike said, throwing an arm
around his brother's neck as they walked.
Matt gave him a big grin.
They
sat back down on the couch in the den and finished their coffee, and then put
the twins in the playpen so they could start cleaning the condo. The boys
complained loudly for a minute, but Matt turned on the TV and found some
cartoons, diverting them for the time being.
Mike gave Matt some soft cloths and some furniture polish from the closet.
"Go forth and rub," he said.
"That reminds me of a story," Matt
responded.
"Why do you torture me like
this?" Mike asked for perhaps the hundredth time.
"I don't know," Matt said, wagging his head from side
to side. "'Cause it's my job, I guess. It's not an easy job.
It's not the hardest job in the world, either. Do I hate it?
No. It may even give me some small--very small-- pleasure now and
then. It doesn't pay anything, of course. But it is my job.
Haven't I explained this before?"
"You
love the sound of your own voice, doncha?"
"Well, yes. What's not to love? It's deep, it has good timbre
and range, and it has a lilt to it when I sing. Now that I think about it,
I need to be singing to you and the boys more often."
"Between storytelling and singing, you're gonna warp
these kids."
"Not!" Matt said.
"Anyway...
"One day when the teacher
walked to the black board, she noticed someone had written the word
'penis' in tiny little letters. She turned around and scanned the
class looking for the guilty face. Finding none, she erased
from the board real fast, and began her class.
"The next day she went into the room, and she saw,
in larger letters, the word 'penis' again on the black board. Again,
she looked around in vain for the offender, but found no guilty face, so
she erased it and proceeded with the day's lesson.
"Every morning, for about a week, she went into the
classroom and found the same suggestive word written on the board,
each day's word larger than it had been the day before-- 'penis'--and no
guilty party.
"Finally, one day, she
walked in, expecting to be greeted by 'penis' on the board in truly giant
letters, but instead found the words:......'The more you rub it, the
bigger it gets!'"
The pleased
expression on Matt's face was funnier than the story, and Mike had to laugh.
"Get to work," he ordered.
"This thing's in mint condition," Mike
said to himself, taking the vacuum cleaner out of the closet, plugging it in and
switching it on. Matt said something, but Mike just gave him a big smile
and signaled he couldn't hear him, and started sweeping.
An hour later, things around the condo were on their
way to looking better. They met back in the den.
"You wanna clean up the guest bathrooms while I do the
kitchen?" Mike asked Matt.
"Hey, dude,
I know how to play this game. When you get a suggestion from your
'significant other,' tell yourself you're really in charge, but say, 'Yes,
dear,' and do what you're told. I'm whipped, y'know. In the final
analysis, we subs are just the sex slaves of our dominant partners."
Mike parodied being pumped up,
scrunching up his face and posing in a crab.
"That's cute," Matt said. "You look like an angry Pee-wee Herman on
'roids."
Mike chased him around the
couch a few times to no avail, the boys watching with interest.
"What are you on today, anyway?" Mike asked.
"You're outta control."
"High on life,
dude! Had my Mikey fix, feelin' fine!"
Matt came around the couch, engulfing Mike in a big hug during which he
took the opportunity to grab and squeeze his brother's ass lasciviously, and
then headed for the bathrooms muttering, "Sex slave, sex slave. Yeah,
baby!"
"You're totally bent, man,"
Mike said, setting out for the kitchen.
By 1 p.m., the condo looked perfect, and the good plates and serving
dishes had been run through the dishwasher to make sure they were clean and
shiny. A new white table cloth graced the dining room table, set now with
two small silver candelabra and the good silverware.
Matt and Mike called a halt to their labors and fed the
boys, who promptly fell asleep in the playpen, and then made some soup and
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for themselves. After they ate, the two
of them lay down on the big couch in the den together, and took a little
nap. Afterwards they each planned to get in a run on the beach.
Stirring around in their playpen, the
twins awakened them in about 30 minutes, and Matt sat up on the couch, cradling
Mike.
"I told you this morning I
wanted to do something nice for you," Matt said. "Why don't I start small
by giving you a haircut so you'll look nice for tonight?"
"It's been a long time since you've done that," Mike
said slowly. "Sounds great. It's gotten a little longer than I like
it."
Leaving the twins in their
playpen, they went down the hall to Mike's room. Matt took Mike's computer
chair and wheeled it into his bathroom, and covered it with a bath towel.
Then he pulled Mike's T off his body, admiring his torso, and sat him down.
"Where are the implements of
destruction?" Matt asked. "Heh heh."
"That drawer," Mike said, pointing.
" 'K."
Matt removed a comb and
electric clippers from the hair care kit he found there, plugged in the
clippers, and ran his hand through Mike's dark blond hair.
"Great hair, Mikey," Matt said. "I've always
liked it. How do you want it?"
"Just a standard brush cut will do. On the short side, though."
"You got it."
Putting a hand towel around Mike's neck and leveling
his brother's head, Matt began to run the clippers from front to back as hair
tumbled on to the towel and Mike's lap and fell to the floor. Stopping
periodically to check from the side and in the bathroom mirror, in a few minutes
the top was just a little longer than a flattop would have been. Changing
blades, Matt began on the sides, making sure there was a good taper from the top
to the hairline. After cleaning up Mike's neckline, Matt put the comb and
clippers away and moistened a wash cloth with hot water. He ran the damp
cloth over Mike's neck, shoulders and chest to remove any loose hair. Then
he dried him off, kissing and nuzzled his neck in the process.
"Son, you do good work!" Mike said as he stood and
studied his image in the mirror from several angles. "Maybe barbering is
really your thing, you think?"
"Where's my tip?"
Mike put his
arms around Matt from the back and caressed his brother's crotch.
"It's right here, I think. Why,
did you think it was missing?"
"I'll
give you about two hours to stop that! And I mean it!"
They laughed and looked at each other in the mirror.
"Mike, why don't we put the kids and
the strollers in the Blazer and head down to the park for a run? The paths
there are nice and smooth if I remember right, and we can run together today if
we push the strollers instead of going separately."
"Good thought," Mike said. "I wanna run your
little mesomorph, jockboy butt into the ground."
And they went, and he almost
did.
* * *
Mike's plans for the
dinner party were ambitious. The caterers and their manager arrived about
5 p.m., with the waiters arriving about an hour later. Matt and Mike had
opened up the wet bar in the den, and regrouped the furniture in the living room
a bit to promote conversation when their guests arrived.
Tony Angelo--newly minted Captain Tony Angelo--arrived
first about 6:15 wearing civvies. He had been appointed the watch
commander of a north side precinct just a month ago. Matt and Mike
extended their congratulations on his promotion, with Mike saying that they knew
he was destined for greatness the night they took their swim off Lake Shore
Drive. Fortunately, Tony had the night off, and able to drink, accepted
the offer of a nice, tall bourbon and water. He again expressed regret
that his wife was out of town caring for her mother and couldn't join
them. Like the skilled policeman he was, Tony elicited all the pertinent
information about Matt's and Mike's lives since they had left Chicago, and
expressed his sorrow over Matt's loss of his wife. Tony took the
twins out of their playpen and held them and talked with them. He told
Matt and Mike that his older son and his wife had recently had their first
grandchild, so he needed the practice.
Sister Angeline and Sister Catherine were next in the door. They had
never met Tony, and made his acquaintance warmly after greeting Matt and
Mike. Matt supposed it wasn't good church etiquette to hug and kiss nuns,
but he did it anyway. Mike had seen the sisters periodically since he had
moved back to Chicago, but Matt was struck with how little the two of them
seemed to have aged. Angeline was as energetic as ever. After some
small talk catching up on things, the sisters had their turn with the
kids. The twins took to them like metal filings to a magnets.
Last in the door were Stan Rosinski
and his fiancée', a classy looking blonde named Linda Kosco, from a good Polish
family, naturally. Matt and Mike liked her immediately, and she and Stan
seemed to be very comfortable with one another. In fact, Stan couldn't
keep his eyes off her.
It was a
different Stan than Matt remembered from Hospice. The tough, angry,
streetkid facade wasn't completely gone, but was definitely muted by the self
assuredness of a young man who had goals and was on his way toward attaining
them. His demeanor was friendly, and he looked everyone squarely in the
eye when he said hello. Matt noticed that although Stan might still be
pierced and accessorized under his clothes where it couldn't be seen, he now
wore only one earring in his left ear, and of a much smaller size than he used
to wear. He had on a white shirt and tie, a nice sport coat with
contrasting trousers, and his shoes were shined. Matt suspected that
Linda, along with the leavening influence of college, had brought about the good
changes in Stan he was seeing.
After
everyone had his or her drink of choice served by a bartender in a white jacket,
they all went into the living room and talked some more, the sisters still
splitting their time between adult conversation and talking to the twins.
The little boys jabbered away. Matt suddenly realized that what the kids
were saying was starting to be intelligible. He couldn't help thinking
that the next thing he knew, they'd be arguing with him over bedtime, and then
whether or not they could date midweek. Just another reminder to make
every minute with them count.
Sister
Angeline filled Matt in on how things had changed for the better at the Hospice
with the infusion of money the Broman family had made available: no more
worries about bringing the building up to code, and a much stronger medical
support program than they could have afforded before. Stan commented that
staff had received raises, too, and turnover had decreased. Sister
Catherine mentioned that AIDS cases among Blacks had been increasing
drastically, many of them within heterosexual relationships, with some of
that increase being felt at Hospice.
Stan shared that he had completed his community college courses, received
his associate's degree in health care administration, and had been admitted to
Loyola for his last two years. He modestly accepted everyone's
congratulations. Although he didn't mention that his education had largely
been made possible by Mike, he kept looking with gratitude in Mike's direction,
Matt noted. Linda revealed that she was also in health care, wanting to go
on for her bachelor's degree and become an RN.
So that Matt could stay to enjoy their guests, Mike
collected the boys as the conversation continued, and took them into the den
where he fed them some jars of food they especially liked. Then he gave
them a quick bath, and put them down for the night. No story before bed
tonight, but the boys didn't complain. He returned to the living room
where the conversation was still going strong and gave Matt a thumbs-up.
Before long, one of the waiters
interrupted to say that dinner was served, and Mike led their guests into the
dining room. The chandelier had been appropriately dimmed, the candelabra
were blazing, and the dinner service shone.
After everyone was standing at his or her place, Mike at the head of the
table and Matt at the foot, they all joined hands and Mike offered thanks for
friendship and for the food which they were about to receive. The men
seated the ladies. Two waiters poured chardonnay into the wine glasses,
and served the appetizer: escargot sautéed in white vermouth, garlic and
tomatoes. It was excellent.
After the escargot had disappeared rather quickly, the waiters removed the
plates and served the soup, a baked onion concoction with a crunchy, carmelized
crust around the edges of the bowls. A salad Lyonnaise came next, followed by
the entrée of pan roasted pork medallions in a sweet potato purée with cranberry
chutney and pork wine sauce. The wine served was an excellent cabernet
sauvignon.
The wine and good company
had loosened tongues, and Tony talked at some length about city and police
department politics, and Mike shared some of his medical school experiences,
edited for polite company, of course.
At the conclusion of the delicious and leisurely meal, a dessert of sliced
bananas sautéed with dark rum, brown sugar and banana liqueur was served with
coffee from freshly ground beans.
The
group finished dessert, and surfeited, rose from the table and went to the
living room where they fell into their seats complaining about how they had
overeaten, but happy.
Matt ducked out
quickly to check on the boys, and finding them sleeping quietly, rejoined the
guests as they regaled Mike with compliments for the meal. By 9:30, they
had had several more cups of coffee, and were on their way out the door with
smiles on every face and thanks on every tongue. The waiter crew finished
cleaning up and left shortly thereafter, obviously pleased with the tip Mike
gave each one as he left.
"You're the
hostess with the mostest, dude!" Matt told Mike as they settled down close to
each other on the couch. "That was one good supper, I'd have to say!
I would have sung for it, y'know!"
"Thanks, but no thanks. The meal and everything kinda reminds me of
holidays at Mom's and Dad's, huh?" Mike asked.
"Yeppers. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Thanks for doing all this, Mike."
Mike
responded by leaning over and kissing Matt on the mouth, slipping him some
tongue, and then taking and holding his hand.
They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, each
immersed in his own thoughts.
"I'm
horny, and I wanna see you naked," Mike said out of the blue. "You can
either strip here, or in the bedroom, I don't care. But do it!"
Matt laughed, but rose and did as he
was told. Mike's eyes devoured the body emerging before him, totally
smooth except for head, armpits and groin. Matt's muscles rippled
sensually beneath his skin as he undressed unselfconsciously.
"You are so unbelievably fucking hot, I can't stand
it," Mike murmured.
Sitting back down
on the couch, his clothes in a heap on the floor, Matt cuddled Mike, cupping his
crotch and unzipping his pants. Taking Mike's cock out of his boxers, he
fondled it until it was standing straight out from his body. By that time
Matt's own dick was hard and ready for action.
After touching one another in all the right places for
a few minutes, Matt picked Mike up bodily and carried him down the hall to their
bedroom. He gently undressed him, and after falling into bed, they
indulged their wide-ranging fantasies until sleep eventually quelled desire.
* * *
The telephone rang
insistently, finally awakening Matt out of a deep sleep. He noticed the
big red numerals on the bedside clock as he reached across Mike and picked up
the receiver. 2:30 a.m.
It was
Martha. A very distraught Martha. Matt knew this wouldn't be good
news.
"'Sup, sis?"
"Matt? Can you put Mike on the phone with us?"
"Hold on, Mart." Matt shook Mike
gently, and when his eyes opened, told him that Martha wanted to talk to both of
them. Handing the bedside phone to Mike, he got up, snatched Mike's robe
out of his closet and put it on, and hurried to the den.
" 'K, Martha, I'm on," Matt said, hearing Mike yawning
into the other phone.
"I'm sorry,
guys, but I'm in way over my head here. It's Jeff. I don't know what
to do."
"What's the matter, Mart?"
Mike's calm voice intervened.
"I was
at the library studying late tonight, and when I got home about midnight, I went
to Jeff's room to check on him. He was sitting on his bed, smoking a drug
pipe. It smelled really strange to me. After I badgered him for
awhile, he admitted he was smoking heroin, and then he just lay down like it was
nothing unusual and went to sleep. I checked his arms and I didn't see any
needle marks, or anything, but I'm really scared. I'm sorry I woke you up,
but I've been sitting here for hours trying to decide what to do."
Stunned, the two young men were
instantly wide awake. Matt sat down hard on the couch. Although he
tried to stay in control, he could feel the anger building inside him.
"Martha, has Jeff been behaving
strangely at all?" Mike asked.
"Well,
yeah. This is weird. He's been dating this girl with purple hair and
a miniature barbell in her nose for about a month. That wouldn't be Jeff's
usual taste in women, I didn't think, but I haven't said anything. That's
about it, although he's seemed kinda stressed out lately."
"Is he going to class and baseball practice every day?"
Mike queried.
"Yes, as far as I
know. And he always studies hard, and I haven't seen any change there."
"Damn it, Martha, how could this
happen right under your nose!" Matt burst out. "Haven't you been watching
out for him?"
"Lose the attitude,
Matt. I never suspected that anything like this could happen to a kid like
Jeff, and neither did you. So don't be a jackass and try to blame me!"
Martha retorted.
"Cool your jets,
Matt," Mike said. "This has taken us all by surprise, and blaming Martha
isn't gonna help."
Silence on the
phone.
"You're on vacation," Mike
said. "Why didn't you go home, by the way?"
"I had two papers to get done, and I didn't want Mom to
feel she should stay home with me instead of going to Washington to be with Dad,
so I just stayed here."
"Why didn't
Jeff go home?" Mike asked.
"I think we
know why now," Matt said.
"How long
before you guys have finals?" Mike asked.
"Three weeks of classes and then finals week. We should be finished
in about a month," Martha said.
" 'K,
then, here's my thought," Mike mused. "You tell Jeff that you've talked to
us about the fact he's chipping, and have him call us tomorrow without
fail. If he's really not shooting up, there's no reason why he can't get
through classes, finals and the rest of the baseball season in reasonable
shape. I don't want his semester wasted. Then I want him down here
in Chicago. I'll have him evaluated, and we'll go from there. Does
that sound all right to you both?"
"Yes," Martha said.
"Yeah," Matt
mumbled, followed by, "I'm sorry I yelled at ya, Mart. This drug shit just
makes me crazy!"
"I know, Matt.
It's OK."
"Mike, heroin is no walk in
the park. Are you sure we shouldn't get Jeff in a program right now?" Matt
asked.
"I'd be more worried if it were
crack. With heroin, if he's not shooting up, I seriously doubt that he's
physically dependent yet. Psychologically dependent, maybe, but probably
not even that if he's only been chipping for a month, give or take. So I
think we have to monitor him, but let him finish out the year."
"Mike, is there anything special I should do about Jeff
between now and the end of the semester?"
"Just the usual, Martha. You hafta take care of yourself and get
through the year, too. Just see that he eats well and sleeps, if you can,
but don't feel that you hafta be his keeper. When we talk to him tomorrow,
I'm going to tell him that I want to talk to him on the phone every night
between now and the end of school just so he knows we're on to him, and he's
accountable," Mike said. "You did the right thing, calling us, by the way,
hon."
"What about Mom and Dad?" Matt
asked. "Do we call them?"
"I
think we have to," Mike said. "They have a right to know, and I think we
have a responsibility to tell them. Agreed?"
"Yes," Matt and Martha said simultaneously.
"Mart, you tell Jeff that if he
doesn't call tomorrow, Matt and I will be down there to talk to him face to face
by Friday, 'K?" Mike said. "And it won't be a pleasant conversation.
After we talk to Jeff, Matt and I'll call Mom and Dad and bring them up to
speed."
Uncharacteristically, Martha
started crying.
"Don't cry, sis," Mike
said. "We'll work through this. Jeff's gonna be fine."
"I'm just so relieved to have somebody
to talk to about it," Martha said. "I'm scared for Jeff."
"Mart, we're a family!" Matt said. "We've gotten
through some tough times together, and that's what's going to happen now.
Don't worry, we're on Jeff's case bigtime."
"All right," Martha said, snuffling. "I miss the twins. How
are they, and how are you guys doing?"
"We're great!" Matt said. "So are the boys. I guess this is as good
a time as any to tell you that Mike and I are working on getting back together,
and we want to raise the twins together. We haven't worked all the
logistics out yet, but we will."
"I'm
really happy to hear that," Martha said sincerely. "Mike, you've sounded
so low every time I've talked to you since you guys broke up, and Matt, to be
blunt, you weren't all that ecstatic about being married. I loved Sarah
very much, but...I'm thinking this is a good thing."
"Thanks, hon," Matt said. "Other than Jeff's
problem, how are you?"
"I'm
good. My courses are all going well, and it looks like I'll be joining you
guys on the Dean's list."
"Outstanding, Martha. We're really proud of you!" Matt said.
"Sis, I love you to death," Mike
said. "You can't begin to know what you mean to me."
"Ditto, Mart!" Matt said.
"Thanks, guys, love you back. Talking to you has
taken a huge weight off my shoulders. I'm feeling more hopeful now about
Jeff. I'll make sure he calls you tomorrow. And sorry to get you up
in the middle of the night."
"No,
we're glad you called," Mike said. "Talk to you soon."
"Night, hon. Love ya!" Matt said.
They hung up. Matt went over and
lit a candle under the crucifix for Jeff, saying a prayer for him. Then he
walked back down the hall, checked on the boys, and continued to his and Mike's
room. He shed the robe and slid back into bed.
Putting his arms around Mike, he kissed him and let out
a big sigh.
"This bites," he said.
"Yep," Mike concurred. "But
we're gonna bite back."
They fell back
to sleep in one another's arms without further discussion.
* * *
The telephone rang
about 10:00 the next morning as they were reading the paper in their shorts,
drinking coffee and watching the twins play with Breakers.
Mike answered.
"Hi, Mike, it's Jeff," the voice said, sounding a little reserved.
"Martha said you wanted to talk to me."
"Hi, Jeff. Thanks for calling."
Mike motioned for Matt to get on another phone.
"'Sup?" Jeff asked.
"Don't shit a shitter, Jeff," Mike said quietly. "You know what's
up."
"I 'spose you mean the smoking
incident. Martha blew that all out of proportion."
"Really?" Mike said. "Why don't you give me your
version."
"It was nothing, Mike,
really. I was feeling tense, so I smoked a little H. It doesn't hurt
to indulge once in awhile. You know that. You're in med school."
Matt interrupted. "If I were
there, Jeff, I'd kick your ass!"
Mike
spoke up before Jeff could respond.
"Matt, tone it down or tune out, dude," he said. "That's not
helping."
"I can't help it," Matt said
to Mike. "He's such a dumbass, he really pisses me off. That stuff
is poison, and he knows it!"
"I..."
Jeff started to fire back angrily.
"Matt," Mike cut in, "either listen and be quiet, or get off the fucking
phone! I need to have a conversation with Jeff, 'K?"
There was a click, and Matt was off the line. He
came back into the den looking dour and sat down with Mike.
"Jeff, you saved my life once," Mike continued.
"I owe ya bigtime for that, and you know I love ya, and so does Matt, and so
does Martha. I want you to tell me what's going on because we're all
pretty bummed right now."
Jeff
surrendered, at least for the moment.
"I've been chipping for about a month, Mike. Between classes and
baseball, I've been really stressed out lately--it's just seemed as if there's
no end in sight. It's just pressure, pressure and more pressure, and I'm
fed up. So sometimes at night, I'll smoke a little so I can sleep."
"How much do you smoke?"
"Just a little, and only a couple
times a week at night before bed."
"Where'd you get it?" Mike asked.
"Oh, I've been seeing this girl, and getting it from her."
"Is she a user?"
"Yeah."
"Is
she shooting?"
"Yes."
"Are you shooting?"
"No, Mike, I swear I'm not."
"Are you going to all your classes and practices?"
"Yeah."
"How
are your grades?"
"They're good.
Unless I really drop the ball, I'll be on the Dean's List again."
"That's excellent! You doing all
right on the field?"
"Coach seems
pleased, that's all I can tell ya."
"How much do you know about heroin, Jeff?"
"Not a lot, except it calms me down so I can do
everything I hafta do and not go nuts."
"Did you know that heroin is a cousin to morphine?"
"No."
"Yeah. An opiate. Great stuff when somebody's in physical
pain. Terrible stuff when it's used to mask other problems. Do you
have any idea what's causing all the stress in your life?" Mike asked.
"No, not really. Just trying to get
everything done right."
"Well,
eventually you're gonna hafta find out what's causing your pain, bud."
"Look, Mike, I can stop using this
stuff any time I want. I'm no addict, for God's sake."
"Maybe, maybe not. I'm not there with you, so I
can't say."
"Well, take my word for
it."
"Wish I could, bro, but I can't,"
Mike said. "So I'm gonna set some guidelines for you between now and the
end of school. First of all, I want you to call me at 10 p.m. sharp, your
time, every night. If I don't hear from you, I'll be on the next plane
down there, and you know I mean it. I'm going to be asking you about your
day, and how you're feeling, and how you're making it. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Second, lose the girl. You don't love her, do
you?"
"No."
"Are you fucking her?"
"Yes."
"She's
history, Jeff. She's not good for you, and she has to go. If she
wants to go into a remedial program, I'll help anyway I can. But if you
don't give her up, I swear to God I'll take you out of school."
"Gimme a break, Mike. You can't do that."
"Don't test me, bud. A word to
your coach and to administration about what you're into, and you're history."
"C'mon, you wouldn't do that!"
"Oh, yeah, I would! I care about
you too much to watch you self-destruct. Will you stop seeing her?"
"Well, son of a bitch! All
right, but this isn't right."
"It's
very right. Now, let me continue. I gonna be sending a very calm,
very rational, very under-control Matt around to see you at least once a
day. Just to say hello. 'K?" Mike gave Matt a stern look as he
described his requisite demeanor.
"Why?"
"'Cause I need him to
give me all the good news about how well things are going for you, so when I
talk to you on the phone, I'll be feeling really good.
"Have you been going to mass on Sunday?" Mike
continued, already knowing the answer.
"No."
"All right, I want you to
take 10 minutes out of your busy day, every day, and go to the chapel at
Canterbury or the Newman Center and just sit. I don't care whether you
pray, or play tiddlywinks. I just want you to sit in the silence there for
a ten minutes every day. Will you do that for me?"
"I guess so."
"Next. I want you packed and in your truck on the way down here the minute
you walk out of your last final. You'll be spending the summer in
Chicago."
"Well, shit! What if I
have other plans?"
"Do you?"
"No," Jeff admitted reluctantly.
" 'K, my man, you do now. Is
everything I've told you clear?"
"Yes," Jeff said sullenly.
"Good. You have any heroin in the apartment?"
"Yes."
"Flush
it right now, and come back to the phone."
"C'mon, Mike..."
"Do it now, and
come back to the phone," Mike said firmly.
Jeff slammed the phone down on the table, and Mike could hear him go to
his bedroom cursing all the way, open and shut a dresser drawer, followed by the
sound of a flushing toilet. Then he was back on the phone.
"Did you?" Mike asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Now, I know you won't like it, and I'm not
gonna enjoy doing it, but I hafta talk to Mom and Dad about this."
"Please don't do that, Mike. I
don't want them to be disappointed in me," Jeff said. "I'll do anything
you want, just don't tell them. They'll freak."
"This isn't punishment, Jeff. I hope you know
better than that. We're a family, and they need to be up to speed on
what's going on. We need to support each other when we're in trouble."
There was a sigh on the other end, and
then silence.
"There is
nothing--nothing--that I won't do to get you straight," Mike said quietly.
"Do you hear me?"
"Yes."
"All right. I love you, Jeff,
and I owe you. This is no power trip on my part. Keep that in mind
when I piss you off, 'K?"
"Yeah."
"OK, I'll be waiting to hear from you
at 10 tonight. You give this a try. If you don't think you can carry
through on the things I've laid out for you, get in touch with me and we'll take
another approach, all right?"
"Yes."
Matt held out his hand for the phone.
"Jeff, I'm sorry I yelled atcha.
I love ya, and I want you to leave that shit alone. Don't be mad at us--at
me--for being upset about this situation. I'll see you next Sunday night
when I get back, and I promise I'll be cool."
"All right, Matt. I guess I'll talk to you guys
tonight."
The phone went dead, and
Matt and Mike looked at each other.
"You done good, bro!" Matt said.
"Thanks. I shouldn't have talked to you that way on the phone,
though," Mike said apologetically. "But sometimes being angry at somebody
with a problem just makes it tougher to talk."
"I know it," Matt admitted sheepishly.
"I've noticed before that you kinda lose it with Martha
and Jeff when they aren't doing what you think they should. Well, really
more Jeff than Martha. Why do you think that is?"
"I'm not sure. I guess it's because Jeff and
Martha and I have been given so much in our lives that it bothers me when we
screw up. We shouldn't screw up."
"Admirable, but unrealistic, bro," Mike said. "It's human nature to
screw up, and you know it. Being blessed by God doesn't give you immunity
from fucking up now and then."
"I
know. It's just that imperfections are harder to accept when they're close
at hand, y'know. You should understand that because you have so many of
them," Matt said with a straight face.
"You're hilarious. But really, give a little thought to what's
behind your anger, will ya?"
"Yes."
They sat there in companionable
silence, sipping their coffee, watching the twins. After a few minutes,
Matt looked over at Mike slyly out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you work for United Parcel Service?" he asked.
"Oh-oh. Does this question
deserve an answer? No, I don't work for UPS. Why?"
"I thought I saw you checking out my package."
Mike took Matt's coffee cup away from
him and put down his own, and lunged over and lay on top of his partner, pinning
him to the couch.
&nb