Doing Hard Time

[BlueD]

Yay, don't worry, we are here! just kind of speechless and worry for what happens to Harrison next
Great writing!

 

[consult28]

I can only speak for myself but it is hard for me to remember what the story is all about when the chapters are issued months apart. You are one of the better authors who post on a fairly regular basis. One of the first stories I started following was " Brad" and I guess Neil spoiled me with posting three chapters a week. It was nice waking up knowing ther was going to be a new chapter to print out and read every day for breakfast. Iguess we got spoiled. I am one of those readers who seldom sends a note to the author bbut rest assured I am checking the seven or eight stories I am following every day. At my age it is foolish I guess for one of these mornings I am not goimg to wake up to find out how Harrison and his friends have weathered the storm.
Be that as it may you can be sure that I am one of the hits on your story almost every day. I was in the hospital for a week last month with a minor stroke and it sure was a long week.
Thank you and all the other authors for spending the time to entertain us with stories of the might have been. When you have grown up thru the barren '30's, 40's etc the stories of the present gay life are dreams that we can never meet.
Love you all for the time you spend to keep us feeling good.
consult28

 

[hungbuzz]

you are a fantastic author and i really enjoy reading your story and i hope that every time i log on you have posted another great chapter


Mikko

 

[Wolfowitz]

I'm here and still reading your good work, dude.

 

[bbya2064]

Justin- Don't stop writing this story!
it's great work.

 

[arogersb]

A Short Note from the Author: This is my 101st post! Hooray for me! LOL
A much longer missive, which includes my reply to the Important Message that was
post #237 in this thread, can be found at the end of this chapter.​

~ Chapter 34 ~​

From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:

Gaining admittance to my father’s house had not been difficult. The housekeeper, Sadie, had burst into tears upon seeing me and relapsed into a string of Spanish, from which I gathered the household had crumbled since Mom’s departure two months previously.

Sadie stared at me as if I was out of my mind when I said I wanted to see my father. I was starting to wonder the same thing. What did I hope to achieve from all this? I knew my father – he was not going to back down so easily. He could not bear the thought of losing to any individual, especially not a gay one.

After Sadie had retreated fearfully into the kitchen, I walked upstairs in trepidation. One of the words Sadie had said – monstruo – came to mind. I really felt like I was walking into a monster’s lair. I steeled myself for the encounter; I had to face my demons. I was going to see the man for the first time since that fateful day.

As I treaded up the stairs, one step at a time, I noticed most of the family photos that had lined the walls were missing – probably thrown by my father in a fit of fury. It made the mansion feel even less like the home it had once been.

“Dad?” I called, as I reached the landing. “Da-” The words died in my throat as that hated figure emerged from his study. His face betrayed the slightest surprise at seeing me.

“Well,” he said coldly. “I thought it was part of the agreement that we would not interfere in each other’s lives any more, yet here you are in my home.”

“You were the one who started interfering!” I said hotly.

“What is it that I’m supposed to have done?” he asked, casually inspecting his nails as if he didn’t know.

“Give it up, Dad. I know you sent Jack and badgered the owners of Josh’s café into selling.”

He looked up at me indifferently. “So what if I did? It doesn’t affect you or your mother in any way, does it? That was my agreement with … what’s his name, Josh?” His sneer indicated that he thought Josh was a person of no account. I felt rage rise inside me.

“Josh is my boyfriend.” I pronounced the word loudly and got some satisfaction from watching him flinch. “What you do to him affects me too. Just leave us alone, Dad. Is that so much to ask? We haven’t done anything to you.”

“Haven’t done anything?” he repeated incredulously.

“Oh, right. He humiliated you by getting the better of you in that argument. God! Why can’t you just give it up already, Dad?”

I looked down and saw his hands clenching and unclenching furiously. “You dare to speak to me like that? Have you forgotten what you used to get for this kind of blatant disobedience?”

How could I forget? I remembered every stinging lash of his belt like it was yesterday.

I said quietly, “Of course I remember, Dad. I remember being frightened, and in pain, but I would tell myself it was because you loved me. Every time you hit me, my love for you didn’t diminish, but your hatred of me just kept increasing. Why, Dad? Can you please tell me why?” I found myself blinking back tears; I told myself I would not cry in front of this man.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he said coldly.

“No, you don’t,” I agreed. “You were right about one thing, Dad. I was a sissy. I should have told the world what a model father you were back then. You guessed that Josh wouldn’t really go public about that, didn’t you? He truly loves me, and he wouldn’t want to put me through that ordeal again.”

“Love,” sneered Dad. “Is that what you call that … that sin you fags commit?”

“Don’t talk about love, Dad. You don’t know the meaning of the word. What Josh and I share is something you will never experience.”

“Damn right I won’t,” he spat.

I looked at him hard. “Do you know why I was such a sissy, Dad? Do you why I wouldn’t tell anyone about the abuse, not even now? It’s not out of some great love for you. I don’t want people to think that Mom turned a blind eye to all this. It’s my fault for keeping it from her, and it’s my fault I had to suffer at your hands. I’m not going to allow anyone to lay blame at her door. Mom would’ve done anything to protect me had she known.”

“Your mother could not have protected you if she wanted to!” he shouted. “The way I discipline my children is entirely up to me.”

“I think you failed to notice, but I’m not really your child, am I? What do you think your voters will think of your methods for disciplining your adopted son?”

He glared at me for a moment and then, picking up a brass paperweight, he threw it at me. I ducked and the paperweight sailed over my head, landing with a thud on the landing. I watched it bounce down the stairs, before turning back to Dad. He was breathing heavily.

“You shouldn’t fly into such rages, Dad,” I said calmly. “It probably isn’t good for your health. Now, I’ll ask you one last time – will you end this stupid vendetta against my boyfriend or not?”

“No!” Flecks of his saliva landed on my face; I wiped them away with my handkerchief.

“If you think you can win-” he began.

I interrupted. “It’s not about winning and losing, Dad. Why can’t you understand that?” I looked at him sadly. “Josh is probably right – I feel things too deeply. I shouldn’t feel anything for you; I’m sure you don’t feel anything for me. Yet I do feel something – pity.”

His eyes narrowed. I continued, “You’ve driven away all the people who would have loved you. What have you got left, Dad? Do you think your power and wealth are going to sustain you? Do you think the voting populace cares for you? If you’d been a compassionate leader, they might have. But you haven’t; all you’ve done is to further your own aims, regardless of the cost to others. I’m sorry, Dad – I truly am. If you ever need me, I’ll be -”

“I will never need you!” he said angrily. “I don’t need you, or your damned boyfriend, or your treacherous mother-”

“Don’t speak of Josh or Mom like that!” I struggled to control my anger. “You’re not half the person either of them is. I hope you’re happy being alone and miserable, Dad. Because this is the way the rest of your life is going to be, if you don’t wake up and change.”

His eyes bulged; his otherwise handsome features were twisted into an ugly mask of rage. “I have no reason to change my ways!”

I had known he would say that. I realized, sadly, that there was no hope for him. He really would never change, not in his lifetime.

“Well, then, Dad, I guess that’s all we have to say to each other. Don’t think that your manipulations will stop us; it may slow us down, but I know we’ll get through it. Because we have something you don’t, something you won’t understand. Goodbye, Dad.”

I half-expected him to lunge at me, but he didn’t. I glanced backwards briefly, and I fancied I saw a shadow of doubt cross his face. But it was gone almost as quickly as it had come, and I sighed as I made my way downstairs.

The small brass globe paperweight lay at the bottom of the steps; I picked it up and rolled it around in the palm of my hand. A shattered world, I thought – one to which I would now never return.

“Mister Harrison?” It was Sadie, poking her head out of the kitchen. “Your father, he was very angry, yes? I warned you, sir-”

“Yes, you did. But I had to see him anyway, otherwise there would never have been an end to it, you know?”

She nodded, although I don’t think she really understood. I handed the paperweight to her and said kindly, “Don’t worry. Phoebe still comes around, doesn’t she? If there’s anything you need, you can always ask her.”

“Thank you, sir.” She gave me an unexpected hug. “You are never coming back here?”

I took a look around the sumptuously-decorated foyer, lit by sunlight filtering through the tall windows on the landing. I recalled my previous observation – this was not home anymore. It had been, when Mom had been there. But now it was just an empty shell, the dwelling of a heartless man who loved power over family.

Shaking my head, I replied, "No, I don't think I will."

Home, I realized, truly is where the heart is.


From the Narrative of Joshua Spencer:

“Will you stop pacing? Now you’re starting to freak me out.”

I paused in my pacing only to glare at Reid. “He should be back by now.”

“He’ll be fine,” Reid repeated, sighing. “Look, there he is.”

I looked up eagerly. Sure enough, Harry was making his way through the café towards us. As soon as he reached us, I grabbed him and started to examine him closely.

He struggled out of my grip irritably. “Geroff! What’re you doing?”

“He’s checking to make sure you’re uninjured,” drawled Reid.

Ignoring Reid, I anxiously asked Harry, “You’re not?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“He didn’t do anything to you?” I persisted.

“Well, he threw a paperweight at me but missed. In fact, there was this one moment where he seemed to realize what he was doing was wrong.”

Both Reid and I looked back at him disbelievingly.

“Okay, it was for like, one second,” he admitted.

“What of the matter you went to see him about?” asked Reid.

“He said no.”

Reid snorted. “Why am I not surprised? That’s why I was telling,” – he glared at me – “trying to tell somebody here that we should find a way to buy the building. Get a loan or something.”

“Reid, who’s going to give us a loan for the amount of cash we’ll need to buy this place? We already have one outstanding loan,” I said.

“I can draw up a business plan that’ll help convince the bank authorities to give you the loan,” suggested Harry.

“It’s very nice of you to offer your help, Harry,” I said, absent-mindedly popping a sugar cube into my mouth. They both stared at me. “What?” I said defensively. “I need the sugar rush after worrying for the last hour.”

Harry grinned and kissed me on the cheek. “That was sweet. And I don't mean the sugar. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

I smiled back at him. “Well, all that matters is that you’re okay. Sugar cube, anyone?” I asked, offering the container to both of them. They simultaneously reached for it and we burst out laughing. But there was still an undercurrent of tension we couldn’t quite disregard.


From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:

“So you need a lot of cash, and you need it quick,” stated Phil, twirling the pen in his hand. “How much is it that you need, exactly?”

I told him the price range of beachfront properties and he whistled. “You’re going to need one hell of a loan to cover that.”

“I know,” I replied glumly. I couldn’t rid myself of the feeling that it was my fault. Dad wouldn’t even have noticed Josh’s existence if he hadn’t become my boyfriend.

“Hey, cheer up. Something will come up; it always does.” I felt that he was just saying it to console me.

“Hey, guys.” We both looked up to see Carl standing in the doorway of Phil’s cubicle.

“Oh, hi, Carl,” I said dejectedly.

His obvious excitement was dampened by my bleakness. “Uh, maybe this isn’t such a good time …”

“No, no. Tell us what it is,” said Phil.

Carl grinned widely. “I need your help to get Reid to talk to Dad.”

We both stared at him. Phil said, “And you think this is a good idea because …?”

Carl started to dig in the folder he was carrying. With a small grunt of satisfaction, he found what he was looking for and placed several sheets of paper on the table in front of us. Phil and I pored over them. Two of them were newspaper cuttings. One was Marc’s report of the Surf Fest; another was a review of the Surf ‘n’ Sand Café.

Phil and I looked at Carl, puzzled. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Carl sighed loudly and sat down to explain. “I found these in a drawer of my Dad’s desk in his study. Both these articles,” – he gestured to them – “mention my brother, either for winning second place in the Surf Fest or being co-owner of the café. And see this, here?” He handed us a sheet of paper with addresses printed on it, all but the last of which had been cancelled out. I recognized the final one, 108 Syracuse Drive, because it was where I was now staying.

“You found this stuff in your Dad’s desk?” I asked in disbelief.

Carl nodded. “You see? Dad isn’t some diabolical villain. I know what he said all those years ago was wrong, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to lose his elder son. He still cares about Reid, enough to have kept track of him all these years.”

Phil suddenly burst into laughter. In reply to our questioning gazes, he said, “You know, I’ve always wondered why Reid has such a soft spot for Harrison here. Now I know why. Meddlesome should be your middle name too, Carl.”

“Well, it’s not,” replied Carl stiffly, although the corners of his mouth curled. “My middle name is Hawthorne. Now, are you guys going to help me or not?”

“Help you to affect a meeting between your father and your brother, you mean?”

Carl nodded and looked beseechingly at both of us.

Phil flicked through the papers in front of him thoughtfully. I knew the dilemma he must have been facing. He had already risked his relationship with Reid once, to reunite him with his brother. At least Reid had no quarrel with Carl; on the other hand, he was extremely angry with his father.

He picked up a photo I hadn’t noticed earlier. It showed a family of four, smiling for the camera. I recognized Reid and Carl; they must have been in their late teens. I took the photo from his hand and passed it to Carl.

“Your parents?” I asked quietly. I’d already seen that the Scott men all shared similar facial features. The only woman in the photo was tall with wavy blond hair – I presumed it to be Reid’s late mother.

“She was pretty, your mother,” remarked Phil.

“Yes, she was,” agreed Carl. Then, betraying the slightest annoyance at our stall tactic, “Are you gay or not?”

Phil looked at him in amusement. “Gay men can’t comment on a woman being pretty?”

“Well, I suppose they can …”

“I’m amazed that this isn’t an issue with you – your brother being gay,” I said.

Carl shrugged. “You both have siblings, right? How did they handle you being gay?”

Phil and I looked at each other. He replied for both of us, “Our sisters took it well, I guess.”

Carl nodded. “Then why do you think I should be any different? I mean, sure I was stunned when I first found out, but I suppose it explained more than it didn’t. I was never angry at Reid for being gay, just for leaving us like that.” He stopped and grinned. “I can see the looks on your faces. I’m not being so accepting because I’m gay myself.”

“How sure are you?” I retorted.

“Quite sure. Back in college, Freshmen year, I lost this initiation game. The punishment for losing was to kiss this other guy. He was straight, and all the girls thought he was hot. We kissed for, like, 30 seconds. I didn’t feel a thing – no attraction whatsoever.” He added with a smirk, “I can’t say the same for the girls who were watching us.”

Phil snorted. “Women! They seem to find guy-on-guy action hot. Explains why so many heterosexual women watched Queer as Folk.”

“Well, we guys find girl-on-girl action just as hot,” Carl replied with a grin.

“Eww,” I said jokingly. “That pretty much confirms it – this guy’s straight alright.”

Carl laughed and then became serious again. “So will you guys help me? I mean, I can do it myself, but I don’t know a place where they can meet, you know, in private. I don’t know my brother’s schedule or the places he visits as well as you guys should.”

I saw that Phil was biting his lip. I turned to Carl. “Okay, leave Phil out of it. I think he’s had enough excitement for one week.”

“Hey!” Phil interjected. “It’s not as if you haven’t had your fair share as well, what with your Dad and all.” He faced Carl. “I want to help.”

“You guys don’t have to have direct involvement. I mean, all I need is a suitable location. I’ll do the rest myself – persuading Dad, getting Reid to not explode at the sight of him …” His face fell as he realized the magnitude of the task ahead.

“Now you know reconciliations aren’t as easy as they seem,” I said. “But don’t be disheartened – I think I know of a place where you can arrange this meeting.”

Carl perked up. “You do?”

I nodded. “This Sunday is the last one for this month, right? I know where Reid will be then. And he might be more receptive to what you have to say; I don’t think he’ll be as hotheaded as usual. As for your Dad …” I recalled part of a conversation a couple of months ago. “I know the right person to talk to him. If I’m not mistaken, she’s already acquainted with your Dad.”

Carl’s eyes widened. “You’re amazing! You mean you worked all that out, just like that?”

I blushed. “It’s not like it was some great feat; I just put together bits of information I already knew.”

Phil groaned. “You both are so alike! One of these days you’re both going to land yourselves in a lot of trouble.”

I grinned. “I’ve been told that before. So far everything’s worked out for the best, though.”

“Well, as long as I’m not in the firing range!” Phil picked up the photograph again and his voice softened. “I have to say, it is a beautiful family portrait. It would be great if you guys could work things out but you have to understand one thing, Carl. However your Dad feels about Reid, even if has some affection for him, I doubt Reid feels the same way. He was really hurt by some of the things your Dad said, and I don’t think forgiveness is going to come so easily.”

Carl looked apprehensive. “I know the stuff Dad said about Reid being responsible for Mom’s death … that was bad. But he was upset and he just couldn’t handle her death and he was looking for someone, anyone, to blame. That didn’t make it right for him to blame Reid, but I know he bitterly regrets it now. He’s just too proud to admit it …”

“A bit like his son … Reid also keeps things bottled up inside,” I observed. I looked directly at Carl. “You know that if your Dad wants a relationship with Reid, he’ll have to apologize? Reid definitely isn’t going to be the one backing down.”

Carl gulped. “Er … we’ll have to work on that. I thought you were going to suggest a person to talk to my Dad about all this.”

“Oh, right.” I pulled out my cellphone and hit a number on speed dial.

“Who’re you calling?” asked Phil curiously. I just grinned; they’d know soon enough.

“And where’s the conducive setting for this reconciliation that you suggested?” Carl chimed in.

I was focused on the phone ringing in my ear, waiting for someone to pick up, but I still managed to answer the second question.

“I’m surprised you can’t guess. Phil, where does your boyfriend go every last Sunday of the month? In the time he’s been dating you, he should have been there once.”

His brown eyes widened. He stared down at the photograph again. “You don’t mean …?”

I nodded, just as I heard the phone being picked up. I turned my attention to it. “Hi, Mom?”


From the Narrative of Reid Emerson Scott:

I weaved my way through the cemetery with my mind elsewhere. It was a matter of routine for me to visit this place at least once a month, so the path was a familiar one. I could barely control my excitement. For the first time since the burial, I was actually going to visit Mom’s grave with Carl. I’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d said he would join me. I was sure nothing would make Mom happier than to have her two sons by her graveside, reunited.

Lost in my thoughts, I realized with a start that I had arrived at the grave. I glanced around; it was a beautiful and peaceful spot. Two generations of Scotts were buried there, but the grave that held my interest was the one at the far end. Mom had wanted it to be simple, and Dad had, to a certain degree, acquiesced to her request. The only obvious sign of opulence was the exquisite pink marble from which the headstone was made – the exact shade as Mom’s favorite rose. I had a half-dozen of those favored blooms in my hand; crouching down, I laid them on the grave.

As I did, my hand brushed against the smooth, polished marble. It felt cold to my touch. I reflected on how ironic it was that this cold, dead marble marked the grave of a woman who, in life, had been so warm and full of life. The sight of the headstone blurred; I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

My gaze fell on the inscription on the headstone. I read the now-familiar words, carved into the marble:

ISABEL CELESTE
SCOTT

1956 – 2000

Beloved Wife
and Mother​

The words were simple, just as Mom would have wished. They gave little hint of the very special place Isabel Scott had held in the hearts of her husband and children. With her death, the family she had cherished had fallen apart.

“Well, that wasn’t my fault,” I angrily tried to convince myself. For years I had believed in that wholeheartedly, but listening to what Carl had said, I couldn’t help but wonder if I hadn’t made a mistake … been too hasty.

I pushed those nagging thoughts out of my head and focused on Mom’s grave instead. The quotation right at the bottom of the headstone caught my eye.

Love is all that matters.​

It had always puzzled me. Mom had been a great admirer of American literature; it was evident in her choice of middle names for both her sons. Yet I did not recognize this quotation from any of the works she’d been so fond of.

I cleared my throat. I knew it was stupid to talk to a dead person, but sometimes I felt as though she was watching over me. As if she’d sent all the wonderful people in my life along my way – first Josh, then Harrison and Marcia, and finally Phil. Not to mention Carl, who I’d missed terribly.

I was about to say something when I heard the sound of footsteps on the grass behind me. I stood up and turned around, expecting to see Carl. In fact, I started to call his name, when I realized it wasn’t my younger brother.

“Marcia! I – I was expecting my brother,” I stammered.

She smiled. “Yes, I know.” She looked around and said, “This is a very nice spot. I think, when I die, I would hope for as beautiful a location to be buried.”

“You – you’re not going to die!”

A ghost of a smile was on her face. “Everyone has to die someday, Reid. It was only weeks ago that I thought I might die of that heart attack. There is a fine line between life and death, Reid. When I was straddling that line, I thought of all the things I regretted not having done in my life. Do you have any such regrets, dear?” She threw the question at me suddenly.

“N-no.” I felt very confused. She arched an eyebrow, disbelievingly, at me. I wondered what this was leading up to.

Marcia glanced at Mom’s headstone. “Love is all that matters,” she read aloud. “I wonder …” She looked away, into the distance. I stared at her curiously.

“There was a time when I was very much in love with someone. That was thirty years ago, and the man’s name was Harrison Alistair Ridgeway, the Third.” She gave a crooked smile. “I used to call him Al.”

It was my turn to stare in disbelief at her. I could not imagine anyone calling the arrogant and stiff congressman by a nickname like Al.

Marcia looked amused. “Oh yes, he was a very different man then … before he began to think of money and power as the ultimate goals in life. It was perhaps a pity he did not know that quotation … love is all that matters …”

She paused before continuing. “For a long time, I deluded myself that Alistair was still the man he once was – the man I had loved. But once I learnt of how he treated Harrison, I knew that ‘Al’ was gone for good.”

Her bright blue eyes held mine. I thought how similar their penetrating gaze was to Harrison’s, although they weren’t really mother and son.

“What Alistair did to Harrison was unforgivable. What your father said to you …” Her voice trailed off.

“What does my father have to do with any of this?” I burst out.

She raised her eyebrows. “Everything.” She gestured towards the grave. “What would your mother think of this bitter separation? The family she would have worked so hard to preserve, crumbling because of the stubbornness of two men. I am a mother too, Reid. I would have done anything to keep my family together, had it still been possible. It’s not too late for your family.”

“Are you trying to tell me I should reconcile with my Dad?” I asked her incredulously.

She said, with a touch of sadness, “I really don’t know what you should do, Reid. But perhaps you will, once you’ve talked to him.”

“Talk to him?” I repeated. “To Dad? I don’t want to talk to him!”

I realized, too late, that this meeting was inevitable. While I had been distracted by Marcia’s tale, Carl had come up behind me. And he had not come alone. With him was the man whom I held responsible for the miserable life I’d led since the age of nineteen – my father.

To be continued …​

With regard to the response to my Important Message: It’s great to hear from you guys and better still to know that you’re still following this story. Keep them coming if you can because your insights are the greatest encouragement. Don’t worry though, I am not going to go off into a sulk and refuse to publish any more chapters; that would be a disservice to all of you lovely people! I truly wish I could reply each one of you personally, but since I only have so much time, I will say only how deeply honoured I am that a septuagenarian finds this story interesting enough to read! I hope you feel better soon.

Okay, so, about this chapter … I am afraid that one crucial piece of information was left out by that idiot Josh (okay, it was me) way back in Chapter 19. It was only when I went back to that chapter, to confirm it was the last Sunday of each month when Reid visits his Mom’s grave, that I realized I hadn’t actually mentioned it in the chapter! I know I thought of it when I visualized the scene in my mind, but somehow it got left out in the writing process! And I can’t edit it now! Grrr ….

That said, I really like this chapter. After the clunky previous installment, I thought this one went quite well. There are still moments where I couldn’t find any other avenue than to use exposition, like in Marcia’s conversation towards the end. And I had to put in that bit about Carl’s sexuality too … couldn’t have you all wondering if he’s gay like his brother. There’s already one character lined up to disrupt one of the relationships, and it’s not Carl. I haven’t started writing the next chapter yet, but it contains (among other things) a confrontation, a surprise birthday party, some kinky sex and a cliffhanger. Yes, I know, but since there are so few chapters left, you can let me have my cliffhangers, right?

All you observant readers will be rewarded. For instance, some of you might have forgotten, we are actually in the second part of “Doing Hard Time” – which is titled “Home is where the Heart is” – the very quote Harrison uses in this chapter. I know it’s a long time coming (over 25 chapters! LOL) but still, there it is. The third, and final, part of this story will be titled according to a quote used near the end of this chapter … can you guess what it is? The Scott boys’ middle names also played their little part. Okay, so you only found out about Carl’s middle name in this chapter, but you’ve known Reid’s since his first narrative.

And that concludes this very long message. I will take a bit more time with the next chapter (hopefully posting this chapter 3 days after the last one makes up for this). As always, your feedback is much appreciated.

 

[BlueD]

another nice chapter, Justin...
I guess the next part will be titled "Love is all the matters" ?

 

[kcm17480]

That is a very touching chapter. You have covered a lot of ground with that one. There is a lot of truth and lessons to be learned from it.

Thanks,
Ken

 

[Craiger]

You are remarkable, Justin. You are forgiven for all your cliffhangers...lol I can't believe that the story is coming to an end. This chapter particularly has been very emotional for almost all of the characters. What an appropriate place for a reconciliation to take place. At the grave site of an adored wife and mother. I wonder if we will ever see a change in the congressman? I look forward to the next chapter, cliffhangers and all.

Craiger

 

[Wolfowitz]

I really liked this chapter, mostly because there is going to be some significant character development, and drama of course, we all LOVE drama, no matter how much we deny it.

I'm looking forward to more twists being thrown into the story, good job, don't ever stop writing.

 

[smile86]

this is what i like to see, i'm offline for a few days and when i come back there's juicy new chapters waiting for me! you always leave me looking foward to the next one. i guessed that harrisons dad wouldn't be pleasent, but what bout reids? don't keep us waiting too long!

 

[robbieadam]

Fantastic chapter! You can't keep leaving us with these cliffhangers, the tension is unbelievable! I hope the confrontation between Reid and his father go as well as it did with Carl. Thanks for another great chapter and I'm so looking forward to the next installment.

 

[harry113]

Justin, Thank you for another wonderful chapter ! Your writing skills are getting better & better
Is there still a chance of reconciliation all around ?? I do hope so!
Hugs
Harry

 

[slutpaul]

justin i would just like to say that i love this story and i love the way you write i look forward to you the rest of the story. i love it and you too hugs and kisses

 

[arogersb]

Disclaimer: This chapter contains the assumption that the legal age at which one can inherit property from a will is 18, in the State of California.

~ Chapter 35 ~​

From the Narrative of Reid Emerson Scott:

“Reid?” Dad said. Then, tentatively: “Son?”

I glanced at him, and immediately wished I hadn’t. He looked so much older … his blonde hair streaked with a lot more gray than I remembered, his face more haggard. What had Marcia just said about regrets in life … Dad certainly looked like a man who had plenty of them, like a man who had lost his purpose in life …

What the hell? Was I actually feeling sorry for him? No, I told myself, it was just a moment of weakness, because I was so unprepared for this meeting. I silently cursed Carl for springing this on me.

“Why did you bring him here?” I questioned him angrily. I was careful to avoid any further eye contact with the man right next to him.

“He has every right to be here too,” protested Carl. “Mom was his wife!”

I couldn’t deny that. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Dad had loved his wife. That didn’t make it okay for him to blame me for her sudden death.

“I mean,” I said through gritted teeth, “why did you have to bring him with you, today of all days, knowing well enough that I would be here and I didn’t want to see him!” Without realizing it I’d raised my voice as I ran through that sentence, until I was practically shouting out the last phrase.

“Reid.” Marcia interrupted in her gentle voice, making my outburst seem all the more out of place in that serene setting. “Give Walter a chance to speak.”

I wanted to yell at her, tell her that I wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t raise my voice at this woman who had become almost like a second mother to me, especially not here, the place where Mom lay at peace.

Marcia added, “Please listen, Reid. For the sake of your late mother, give Walter this one chance.”

I realized what this was – emotional blackmail. They had cornered me in the one place where I would be most vulnerable. They were feeding me all these lines about what Mom would have wanted. Deep down I knew they were right, because Mom would have wanted the three men in her life, the three people she called family, to be united. But I just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Because it would have been admitting that I had made mistakes as well.

Speaking of mistakes, I shouldn’t have looked at Marcia. I could see that she was desperately hoping I would listen; her plea was reflected in her bright blue eyes. They reminded me of Harrison, and how he’d picked up the courage to stand up to his Dad only earlier that week. If he could do it – confront his demons – then I could do it too.

I had come to my decision. I pressed my eyes tightly shut and said, “Say whatever it is you want to. But I won’t promise that anything will change after you do.” I opened my eyes, but I wasn’t going to look at any of them. I stared down at Mom’s grave instead.

I couldn’t see them, but I felt Dad looking at Carl and Marcia behind me. They must have given him encouraging looks, because he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Reid, I know you’re mad at me, and I dare say you’re justified …”

I felt like saying, damn right I was, but I didn’t. It just seemed sacrilegious to do so in the tranquility of the cemetery. So I kept quiet, and let him continue.

“You don’t know how I felt in those days, Reid … how could you … oh, I dare say she was your mother, but I was in love with her long before she became that.”

Again I stifled my protest. But he seemed to realize my displeasure at his suggestion that I had loved Mom any less.

“Maybe -” He hesitated before continuing. “Maybe I haven’t started at the right place. Perhaps I should have started at the day when all this began …”

Another slight pause, before he said, “It was the day your mother told me what you had confessed to her …”

I remembered that day well. But I did not know about it from his perspective. Dad had never spoken to me about it immediately afterwards, and I had, for a time, assumed Mom never got around to telling him.

Dad sighed; it was a deep and painful sigh. “I have never told anyone what happened that day, at your mother’s bedside … but I’m telling you now, in the hope that it will change things between us …”

I was intrigued, in spite of myself. I snorted inwardly, because there was no way it would change things between us, as he hoped, but I was intrigued nonetheless.

Dad began his tale:

I was at her bedside, waiting patiently for her to come out of her sedated sleep. Slowly, her eyes opened. She smiled as they focused on me, those exquisite gray eyes …

I saw Marcia give a start, as she realized who else had gray eyes … it was something I’d never told anyone about, not even to Harrison when I’d narrated the story of my first encounter with Josh …

“Good afternoon, my dear,” I said, as I leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

She smiled brightly, putting on a brave front for her boys, as she called all three of us. “It’s only four o’clock. Did you leave work early?”

I nodded. “Work can wait. I look forward to the day when I’ll be able to retire and spend more time here, at home with you, my dear.” We both didn’t acknowledge the fact that by the time I retired, she would be long dead.

“And how will Scottmart run itself without you then?” she teased.

I said cheerfully, “Oh, our boys will be in charge by that time.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Both our boys? You know Reid doesn’t want to work in retail.”

“Well, if he thinks his ridiculous surfing is going to make him a living, he’s mistaken!” I struggled to keep my voice even.

Isabel looked reproachfully at me. “You always seem to get annoyed with Reid nowadays.”

“It’s not so much annoyed … it’s just his carefree attitude that irks me.”

“Carefree?” she said incredulously. “Oh, how little you understand your son, Walter,” she sighed.

Confused, I asked, “What is it that I don’t understand?”

She shook her head slowly. “Oh, Walter. Now I don’t know if I should tell you -”

“Tell me what?”

She looked worriedly at me. “Do you promise not to get upset?”

I objected. “I can’t possibly promise you something until I know what it is.”

“Walter …” she said sternly.

I sighed and decided to indulge her. “Very well, I promise. Now will you tell me what it is?”

She hesitated, unconvinced by my promise. “It’s Reid. He came to me today … to tell me that he thinks – no, he said he was quite sure – that he liked boys.”

I didn’t reply, but subconsciously my fingers clenched the fabric of the duvet, which did not escape Isabel’s attention.

“You promised you wouldn’t get upset,” she reproached me.

I was incredulous. “You – you just told me our son is gay! Are you trying to tell me it doesn’t upset you?”

“I – well, of course it came as a little bit of a shock, but it does explain why he’s reached nineteen without a girlfriend.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “Walter, many parents have to deal with this sort of thing with their gay sons.”

“That’s their sons! This is our son we’re talking about – our firstborn.”

“That’s exactly why -” The rest of her words were lost in a painful fit of coughing.

I watched in helpless anguish as her chest was racked by those dreadful coughs. “You’re much worse than you were yesterday. He shouldn’t have dumped this on you,” I said angrily.

She tried to reply, “No, Walt-”

But my anger had already gathered momentum. “He should know better than to burden you with this news, especially at this time, when you’re ill -”

“Walter -”

“Just wait till I see that boy, I will -”

“Walter!” she said, louder this time. I stopped and looked at her.

She took a deep breath. “Walter, he doesn’t have any other time to tell me because – because – let us face it, Walter, I’m dying.”

I winced.

“And I want to know these things before I die.”

I protested, “You don’t need to know this sort of thing!”

“Reid is my son. And yours too – our firstborn, as you so rightly pointed out earlier. And we love him,” she stated.

“I -”

“Walter, please. Listen to me. When I married you, we did not have plenty of money, this beautiful house, a successful retail chain, or any of it. The only treasure we could lay claim to was love … and that was all that mattered. It’s all that will ever matter. Our two … precious … sons …” Her breathing became ragged, and I knew she had over-exerted herself. My hand reached for the button to call the nurse.

She grabbed my hand. “You must … love them … both of them … not judge …”

“Isabel, let me call the nurse.” I tried hard to maintain my calm, but my heart was beating excruciatingly fast in my chest.

Her eyes were becoming glassy. She mumbled, “Love … is all … that matters …”

I pressed the button. She fixed her increasingly-unfocused eyes on me and repeated, “Love’s … all … that … matters …”

I brought her hand to my lips and gently kissed it. My eyes filled with tears as I watched hers close. The nurse came in, took one look and hurried out again to call the doctor.

She died two days later, without ever regaining consciousness.

Dad’s story came to an end. I found my own eyes filled with tears, just as his had been all those years ago, at Mom’s deathbed.

“And you never told us?” I said quietly into the silence that followed.

“I – I did not know how to –”

I whirled around to face him furiously, not bothering to wipe the tears on my cheeks. “You had those last words carved on her headstone, but you never bothered to tell me what Mom said about my confession to her?”

He blinked. “I thought – I thought she’d told you herself …” he finished lamely.

“I tortured myself for seven years, not knowing if I’d caused her death, like you said I did.”

“Reid, I didn’t mean to -”

“Which part of it didn’t you mean? Tell me, Dad, because it seemed to me you meant every word of it. When all I wanted was to be comforted by you after the funeral, you told me to stay away from you because I caused her death.”

He looked helplessly at me. “It was wrong of me, I’m not denying it. What else do you want me to say? What else is there I can say? I made a horrible, awful mistake. I didn’t think clearly, I didn’t think of what your mother had said, all that kept going round and round in my mind was … she’s gone … how am I going to live the rest of my life without her … and then you came up to me … and I was filled with rage.”

He paused. “Afterwards, I felt terrible. But you didn’t come back, or try to talk to me -”

I stated coldly, “I locked myself in my room and cried until there were no tears left in me. Then I decided, I couldn’t live in a house with a man who thought I’d killed the mother I loved so much.”

“Reid, I can’t tell you how sorry I am …”

“You never bothered to even look for me.”

Dad was about to reply, when Carl interrupted, “Reid, he did. He kept a list of all the addresses you stayed at for the last 7 years …”

I stared disbelievingly at him. He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to me. I cautiously took it and unfolded it. It was indeed what he said.

“And these articles …” He handed me a couple of crumpled newspaper cuttings. I glanced over them numbly.

I stared at Dad. “If you knew, all this while, where I was … why didn’t you come earlier? Why has it taken you seven years?”

Dad said in a low voice, “Because – because I didn’t want to admit I was at fault. I waited … I thought you would have to come to me, for help … when you needed money.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I snapped. “The inheritance Mom left me was enough. I can be independent and resourceful, not that you ever believed in me.” I glared at him, daring him to contradict me. I wanted him to, because that would give me an excuse to stalk off angrily. But he didn’t.

Instead he whispered, “I was afraid … of rejection. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I’d already lost one person I’d loved … I didn’t want to lose you too … I felt it was better not to know what you thought of me …”

He looked up, and his face wore such a pained expression that I had to look away. “Please, Reid. You don’t know how sorry I am.”

I didn’t say anything.

“What is it you want me to do? How can I make you believe that I’m truly sorry? Do you want me to grovel at your feet? Will that do it? I will -”

“Walter!” exclaimed Marcia, shocked. She turned to me. “Don’t make him beg, Reid. Can’t you see the man truly regrets what he said all those years ago?”

I pleaded with her. “Marcia, I can’t. He wants me to forgive him and I just don’t have it in my heart to do that.”

“I see.” She said it scornfully. “When I first saw you, I thought, despite his brash attitude, he really did have a heart. But I see that I was wrong. Your heart must have died along with Isabel Scott.”

Her words stung. “I – I can’t believe you’d say that, Marcia. To me. I thought you liked me.”

“I thought so, too. But if you are so hard-hearted as to not to feel the slightest bit forgiving when a proud man like your father is pleading with you, then I was wrong.”

I lost it. “What is it that you people want?” I yelled, ignoring their flinches. “You want me to forgive him? Fine, I will! I forgive him. Dad, you’re forgiven. Are you happy now? You’ve turned Marcia against me. You should be happy. You didn’t give me a chance to be happy, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone here. I thought you all cared for me, but it turns out none of you do. Just – go away, all of you, and leave me alone.”

I sunk down onto the grass next to Mom’s grave. My throat was hoarse and I was blubbering like an idiot, but I didn’t care any more. “I don’t need any of you,” I mumbled. “None of you were here before … I survived on my own for six years, I can still do it … the only person I need is Mom …”

Marcia knelt down beside me and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry, Reid … I didn’t know any other way. No man is an island … There’s a purpose, a reason why we came into your life. And we don’t intend on leaving it any time soon, unless you really want us to. Do you want us to?”

I swallowed and shook my head.

She held me close to her. “No, I didn’t think so. Now, Reid, listen to me. I know you have the greatest love and respect for your Mom. So think about what she would have told you to do, in this situation.”

I thought of Mom’s last words … Love is all that matters … and I knew the answer. I’d known it all along; I just hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. “She – she would’ve told me to forgive him.”

Marcia smiled sadly at me. “And will you? Will you do that, for her sake?”

I nodded, tearfully.

“Then you know what to do.”

I stood up, and helped Marcia up. I gave the pink marble grave a lingering glance before turning to Dad. He was looking both sad and hopeful at the same time.

“Dad? I – I guess you did apologize. And I think you did mean it, from the heart. I would be a terrible, heartless person, not to forgive you after that. Especially not when – when you’re my father … and I’m your son …”

Dad stared, as if he couldn’t quite believe what I was saying. Then happiness slowly flooded his face, and he looked ten years younger. He uttered my name: “Reid.”

I held out my hand for him to shake. He grasped it, and then thought better of it and engulfed me in a hug. “I don’t deserve this,” he whispered in my ear.

I returned his embrace more warmly. I always tried my hardest to pretend I was immune to this sort of thing, but I would have had to be a cold-blooded fiend not to realize how difficult this must have been for him.

And so when I heard him say, “I’ve missed you … son,” my reply was immediate and automatic.

“Me too … Dad.”

As I looked over his shoulder, through my tears, I saw Marcia and Carl looking on happily. There wasn’t a dry eye in sight. And I swear that, for a moment – a very brief moment – I saw a third person watching us. A woman with wavy blonde hair was standing next to the pink marble headstone. I stared at her. As my blue eyes met her gray ones, she smiled at me. It was only a fleeting vision of her, but it was enough for me. I knew I had made the right decision.


From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:

The three of us waiting with bated breath for news of what transpired at the cemetery were put out of our misery by Mom’s phone call. All was well. In more ways than one.

Walter Scott had learned from Carl about the quandary over the café ownership. Being a very wealthy man (Phil informed me that his worth was just under a billion dollars), he offered to buy it for Reid. Reid’s response was perhaps only to be expected; “I don’t want charity.”

And just as we in the café were about to howl at his stubbornness, we learnt that obstinacy was a hereditary trait in the Scott family. Walter agreed to buy the building as an asset for Scottmart, which the company would then rent out to Josh and Reid. At a lower rate than previously, of course. Walter insisted Reid accept the arrangement, as his way of atoning for not having supported Reid’s ambitions. Moreover the uncertainty over the cafe’s future could then be resolved. Reid finally gave in.

“At least Reid has his family back,” I commented to Mom later that afternoon. It was just the two of us in the house. Josh was at the café; Reid had a lot to catch up with his father, not to mention introduce him to Phil. “Thanks for talking to both of them, Mom. I knew you were the only person who could, when I remembered you saying something about knowing Reid’s Dad when he was younger. And of course, you’re the one person Reid would actually listen to.”

Mom took another sip of tea and replaced the cup and saucer on the table. “I was glad to do it. I have always recognized Reid as a charming boy in desperate need of the love only a family can provide. But you, Harrison, have not told me why you got involved in all this in the first place.”

I was startled. How was I to explain the guilt I felt about taking Josh away from Reid?

Mom saw the look on my face and smiled slightly. “In fact, you never told me why Reid even lives in this house.” As I opened my mouth to stammer that it was because he co-owned the café, Mom added, “But I have known for some time now. Before Philippe came into the picture, I noticed how miserable Reid would look when he saw the two of you together. He would pull himself together and pretend to be happy for you. And although he probably convinced himself, he was anything but happy.”

She looked inquiringly at me. “So why did you want to help the former lover of your boyfriend?” There was no accusation in her tone, just a mild curiosity.

“I – I felt responsible –”

“For separating him from his family?”

“No, no. I mean about Josh.”

“But you already managed to remedy that, by introducing him to Philippe. So why did you persist in trying to help him get back together with his family?”

I looked away, feeling embarrassed.

Mom sighed. “Harrison dear, do you know why you’ve always been my favorite child? When you start to care for someone, there are no bounds for your affection.”

“Mom!” I blushed.

Smiling, she put her arm around me. “Alright, I won’t mortify you.”

“It’s not that,” I mumbled. “So you knew all along?”

She nodded. “I just needed the confirmation … after today, when I learnt about the color of Isabel Scott’s eyes, I knew for certain.”

“Reid’s Mom’s eyes?” I asked, perplexed.

“Yes … they were gray …”

That cryptic sentence made sense to me.

***​

A week later, I was walking up to the front door, accompanied by Phil, who’d apparently been invited over for dinner after work that evening.

“You know,” I confided in him, “I think they’re planning something for my birthday tomorrow.” I looked suspiciously at him. “You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

He gave me a wide-eyed look of surprise and shrugged his shoulders. “You should’ve told me earlier; I would have gotten you a present.”

“There’s no need for that. It’s only my twenty-third birthday, no big milestone or anything.”

Phil nodded as I fitted my key into the lock. I went into the dark hallway and wondered where everyone was.

“Surely they’re back from the café,” I muttered. I stuck my head into the living room, only to be greeted by:

“SURPRISE!”

I blinked. The room was full of people and decorated with balloons and all the trappings of a birthday party. At the front were Mom, Josh and Reid.

“Happy birthday, dear,” said Mom and kissed both my cheeks.

“Thanks, Mom, but my birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” I pointed out.

“I told y’all that only Harrison would be naïve enough to imagine people hold surprise parties on the actual birthday,” drawled Reid. I gave him my best glower and he grinned back. “Happy birthday, squirt.” He gave me a bone-crushing hug. I noticed both Carl and Walter Scott in the small knot of people.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around to face Josh. “Don’t you want your birthday kiss from me?” he asked mischievously.

“Of course,” I said indignantly. He grinned and planted a big old one on my lips. There was some applause from the assembled people and I blushed, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. When we parted, he whispered, “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Oh, Harrison, I forgot to give you this.” Mom handed me a wrapped present which clearly held some article of clothing. “Go and put it on.”

“Okay, thanks Mom.” I headed towards the door of the room I shared with Josh, when he quickly pulled me back. “Not in there. Use Reid’s room instead.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

“There’s a surprise in there,” he said mysteriously.

I raised my eyebrows. “Another one?”

“What, you don’t like surprises?”

I grinned. “Alright. It had better be a pleasant surprise, though.”

I changed quickly into the royal-blue shirt Mom had bought. As I came out, I bumped into Phil.

“Still don’t know anything about this?” I asked sarcastically.

“Not a thing,” he said innocently, as he produced a wrapped package from behind his back. “Though, here’s your gift, if you still want it – from Reid and me.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You’ve started giving out presents together now?” The neat wrapping told me it had been done by Phil. One could hardly imagine Reid having the patience to painstakingly wrap up presents. What is it they say about opposites attracting?

Phil grinned. “I wish. We just figured it would be a better idea to pool our money together and get you a nice, expensive present.” He added, more seriously, “After all, without you, there would be no us.”

“Oh come on, how many times do you guys have to repeat that? But thanks anyway.” I held the gift up to my ear and shook it gently. “Expensive, did you say?”

He just grinned. “You’ve got other guests waiting. I’ll catch you later?”

As he started to walk off towards Reid’s family, I called out to him, “This is the last time I fall for your wide-eyed innocent act!” He didn’t falter and, although I couldn’t see his face, I was sure there was a wide smirk on it.

“Harrison,” called my sister.

I went over to where Phoebe, and her husband, Ronald, were standing. Phoebe was holding the hand of their year-old son, Alan. As I went over, she said, “Alan has something to say to you.”

“Really?” I crouched down so that I was at his eye-level. “What’s this you have to say to me?”

“Happy birthday, Unca Harrison!” he said and flung his plump little arms around me.

I looked up at his parents in amazement as I returned his embrace. “He can speak in complete sentences now!”

“Well, he should,” said my sister proudly.

“She kept him past his bedtime last night, trying to make him pronounce uncle correctly,” said Ronald in a loud, conspiratorial whisper. “And failed,” he added.

His wife gave him a dirty look before turning to me. “Well, anyway, this is from us.” I thanked her and placed the gift on the table, together with the others.

Feeling Alan tugging my trousers, I bent down and picked him up. “Whew, you’re getting heavy,” I told him.

This was immediately met with an objection by Phoebe. “Hey! Are you saying my son is getting fat? I’ll have you know, his weight is quite normal for his height and –” She stopped suddenly. I noticed she was looking rather green.

“Are you okay?” I asked her anxiously.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she gasped. I pointed with my free hand and she rushed past me.

I turned to Ronald, who was watching her go calmly. “What was that about?”

“Sometimes her morning sickness extends to the evenings as well,” he observed calmly.

My eyes widened. “Morning sickness?” I repeated. “You don’t mean …?”

“Well, you know your sister. She works in a hospital, but can’t find the time to fix herself up with an appointment. So we haven’t confirmed it yet but, yeah, we’re pretty sure she’s pregnant.” He saw my indignant look at not being informed earlier. “We were going to tell you when it was confirmed.”

“So you mean I’m going to an uncle again?” I asked excitedly.

My brother-in-law nodded, and added, with a grin, “And chief baby sitter, as well.”

I pretended to grumble, although I was secretly delighted. “Yeah, don’t come to me unless you want a baby sitter.”

“So this must be the nephew we’ve heard you talk about,” said a familiar voice.

I turned to find Dean and Marc.

“Hey guys, I’m glad you could make it. Was it Josh who called you?”

They nodded and wished me happy birthday. Remembering my manners, I introduced them to Ronald. I added, “And this is Alan.” He buried his face in my shirt.

“He’s a little shy,” mumbled Ronald, gently taking his son out of my hands. “I’d better go and see if Phoebe’s alright.”

I nodded and turned back to Dean and Marc. “So how are things going? I haven’t heard from you guys in, what, a month?”

“Yeah, we were kind of busy,” said Marc, looking slightly nervous.

“Packing,” supplied Dean, more cheerfully.

“Packing?” I questioned. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I guess this is kind of a goodbye,” he replied.

“Goodbye?” I repeated, stunned.

“I’m taking the job offer in Chicago,” said Marc softly.

I blinked and looked from Marc to Dean. “How did you …?”

“The Chicago Herald called one day while he was in the shower,” explained Dean. “Asking why he hadn’t responded to their offer. It was only then that I learned he’d even gone for the interview.” He gave a slight smile. “I replied yes on his behalf.”

My eyes widened. “At once? Just like that?”

Dean slipped his arm around Marc’s. “I knew how much the job meant to Marc. And why he hadn’t accepted it immediately, like he should have. So I called my parents. They dispelled any doubts I had. You see, they’d been impressed by Marc’s devoted hanging around the hospital when I was in a coma.”

Marc smiled gratefully at his boyfriend. “I still can’t believe you’d uproot your life here in Corona Beach for my sake.”

He shrugged. “I’ve told you, it’s not like I’m irreplaceable at my office. You, on the other hand … I wonder what the Corona Times will do without you.”

“Oh, they’ll survive, I’m sure.” Marc looked at me teasingly. “You were right about your advice not being the best, though.”

“I’m sorry,” I said guiltily.

They both laughed. “You shouldn’t be. This party is in your honor. You should be enjoying yourself, not apologizing unnecessarily.”

“Still … I’m going to miss you guys … and giving you useless advice,” I added.

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we’re dropping off the face of the earth. It’s only Chicago – that’s a six-hour flight from San Diego.”

“Besides, we’ll be back every so often to visit Dean’s parents,” added Marc. “And then we’ll visit you too. That doesn’t mean you get out of visiting us should you ever come up to Illinois.”

I laughed. Dean leaned over to whisper, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. You know that cute guy with the brown hair, next to Reid? Are they like, together?”

“Yes, Phil – he’s French, by the way – is together with Reid. Since the Surf Fest party.”

“I knew you were up to something that night!” exclaimed Dean. He grinned. “Very cute though. Good for Reid. Now I don’t feel so bad. I’m not that cute.”

Marc loyally objected to this last remark. I politely excused myself from the pair when I saw Carl Scott signaling to me from the other side of the room. He was next to his father.

“Hi Carl, Mr. Scott,” I said, nodding to each in turn.

Walter Scott insisted that I call him by his first name. “You can hardly call me Mr. Scott after all you’ve done for my son.”

“But really, I haven’t done anything.”

“Nonsense, Reid is full of your praises. You’ve been a very good friend to him.” He clapped me heartily on the back. I winced slightly; the Scotts all seemed to have strong arms.

Carl handed me an envelope. “Your birthday present,” he announced. There was a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s not vouchers to shop at Scottmart, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

I hastily assured him that was not the case.

Carl grinned. “Well, you see, Dad seems to think everyone wants to shop at his supermarkets. And that therefore Scottmart vouchers make ideal gifts.”

“I don’t see why not,” grunted Walter. Then he smiled at me. “But this gift was selected by Carl, who should know better since he’s about your age.”

I thanked them both as I slipped the envelope into my pocket. That was when Carl said, “Hey, isn’t that Adrian Fernley?”

My head whipped around. It was indeed my boss. “What’s he doing here?” I hissed to Josh, who was nearby. “Did you invite him?”

“No,” he whispered back. “I think your Mom must have.”

I only had time to close my open mouth when Mr. Fernley came up to me. “Harrison. Your, ah, mother, told me it was your birthday. Since my nephew was bringing his girlfriend, I thought I might as well come.”

“Of course, sir,” I said faintly. “Thank you.”

“Adrian.” Mom came up behind me. “So nice of you to come.”

Mr. Fernley’s eyes lit up noticeably. For a moment he just stared at Mom. Then he seemed to remember something. “Oh, before I forget. I got you something, but I didn’t have the time to wrap it up nicely,” he apologized. He gave me a small box, on the top of which the name of a fashion house was stamped in silver.

“Well, not much of a surprise, is it?” joked Mr. Fernley. “Go on then, you might as well open it.”

I opened the box. Inside lay a pair of silver cufflinks, each set with a sapphire-blue crystal, and a matching tiepin. “Thank you, sir.”

“I wasn’t sure what to get you, but then I saw this set. The blue crystals reminded me of the color of your eyes. A very deep and brilliant hue.” Mr. Fernley sounded pensive, maybe even a little wistful. I realized it wasn’t just my eyes that he was thinking of. Mom also had similar, dark blue eyes.

“Oh Adrian, they’re exquisite,” said Mom. “You have wonderful taste.” Mr. Fernley blushed slightly. I hid my grin.

“Happy birthday, Harrison.” The rich tones of Carter Holborn’s voice broke into my thoughts. This meeting was not as awkward as our first. Since that night, I’d seen him in the café more often, paying his girlfriend a visit. We’d bonded over coffee and he’d told me all about his university, while I told him how it was working with his Uncle Adrian. We joked that he’d been sent to spy on me.

However, all that still failed to prepare me for his appearance. He simply oozed sex. I thought, for the thousandth time, Carter was a Greek god and Liz was a lucky girl. I was simply mesmerized by his beautiful green eyes. The spell was broken as he put up one hand to brush back a blond curl that was hanging in front of his face.

“Uh, thanks. Where’s Liz?” I asked, a bit too quickly.

He gave me a weird look. “Over there; why?”

“Uh, nothing, I was just wondering where she was.” I had managed to recover from the initial effect Carter’s presence had on me. I hoped he hadn’t noticed; I had the uncomfortable feeling he did, though, judging by the strange looks he kept giving me.

“Um, so, do you want some punch?” I said brightly. “How’s the surf?”

He brightened visibly and launched into some explanation that I was sure Reid would have been more appreciative of. Nevertheless, I didn’t mind listening to his sexy voice, second only to Phil’s accent.

As I sipped the punch, my eyes fell on the Scotts. Reid was another lucky person, I thought. He had his family back. I didn’t begrudge him in the least, certainly not after he’d been fluent in his gratitude to me. It was nice for him to have a family. I, too, had a family. Just not my own, biological family. I hadn’t asked Mom about it since that fateful night when she’d had her heart attack, but at times like these, I couldn’t help wondering. Would my real father accept me for being gay? Would my mother be like Marcia? Did I have a brother or sister?

I pushed the thoughts out of my head and paid attention to what Carter was saying.

***​

Some hours later, the cake (a rich, layered chocolate gateau with almond nibs pressed into the chocolate frosting) had been cut, all the food had been consumed and almost all the guests had left. Phoebe had wanted to stay but she was on call at the General Hospital. That left Mom, Phil and Reid to watch me unwrap my presents. Josh had mysteriously disappeared into the bedroom, presumably to put finishing touches on whatever surprise he had in there. I decided not to bother him.

“Did you guys give me this watch?” I asked Phil and Reid. They nodded in unison.

I beamed at them. “Thanks, guys. Oh, if you want, you can help unwrap that present over there. I can’t believe I got so many.”

“Well, people tend to think you’re still a small kid,” teased Reid.

“Not surprising,” chimed in Phil. “If you recall, at one time I wondered if F&A was breaking child labor laws by hiring you.”

I smiled as I remembered that first day of work.

“Look at what you got here – Mergers and Acquisitions.” Reid passed the book to me with a grin. “Sounds very interesting.”

I took the book from him. “Well, that’s it,” I said, stretching my arms over my head. They hit something soft. “Oh, sorry, Josh. I didn’t realize you were behind me.” I grinned. “Is the big secret ready for me?”

“Oh, the question is, are you ready for it?” smirked Josh. “You’d better say goodnight to everyone first, though.”

I raised my eyebrows, but did as he said. I saw Phil and Reid exchange knowing looks.

“Close your eyes,” Josh whispered, when we stood in front of the bedroom door.

“Is there really a need for all this secrecy?” I complained, though I closed my eyes obediently. Josh took my hand and guided me into the room. I heard the door shut behind us.

“Okay, now open your eyes.”

I opened them and looked around the room. I only managed to utter one word:
“Wow.”

To be continued …​

To make up for the long delay in continuing this story, this chapter is extra long – the longest yet. This installment brings a close to one of the side stories (Dean & Marc) while also shedding light on some of the clues that have littered the series (i.e. the color of Josh’s eyes). My favorite scene here is the flashback at the beginning.

Now I would type more, but the chapter itself was so long and I’m tired of typing I promise not to take as long with the next chapter.

Don’t forget to leave feedback. Your comments are invaluable. Thank you.

 

[smile86]

Reid has become a great character, and my eyes certainly weren't dry.

you're the cliffhanger queen! i can't wait to find out what Harry's surprise is. brilliant chapter.

 

[kcm17480]

That most definitely is a beautiful chapter. I was trying to remember who else had gray eyes. Was that part of Reids attraction for Josh? Any way it was hard to keep a dry eye on this one.
Thanks,
Ken

 

[fbrand12345]

Justin, as always, great work. I wish I could write my stories as long as you've gotten this story. Marcia is definitely a force to be reckoned with and for that I'm glad. Good luck with the future writing and I can't wait to see where it goes.

 

[arogersb]

That most definitely is a beautiful chapter. I was trying to remember who else had gray eyes. Was that part of Reid's attraction for Josh?

Yes, Josh's gray eyes were sort of symbolic, a message that Reid felt was sent by his mother. While Reid honestly fell in love with Josh's personality, it was really his gray eyes that closed the deal. That's why he didn't want to let go of Josh - because he thought they were meant to be together. But the emergence in his life of first Harrison, and later Phil, slowly changed this perception.

So were the gray eyes a false message? Not really, because if Reid had never met Josh and been inclined to stay with him (quite possibly persuaded by the gray eyes), he would never have met Harrison, and through him, met Phil or be reconciled with his family. Everything has a purpose. I felt I had to give this explanation because you won't find it anywhere in the story - I wanted to leave it to the readers to make their own theories, but I guess this will help.

you're the cliffhanger queen! i can't wait to find out what Harry's surprise is.

Cliffhanger queen? I beg your pardon! LOL.
Oh dear, after you said that I feel it might be a bit of a letdown. The surprise was actually supposed to take place in Chapter 35, but it’s been postponed to the next chapter because that one got way too lengthy.

---------- Opinions Please! ----------​

There were some suggestions, early on, that I should post this story to Nifty or some such site.Since there are plenty of corrections to make, I am considering editing, revising and uploading this story to a more permanent home. Do you guys think Nifty is a good site, or any other recommendations?

Thanks once again for all your replies, and if you missed the newest chapter, just scroll up and please, don't forget to comment! Thanks!

 

[harry113]

Justin, Thank you. What a beautiful & fantastic chapter!!
All the ends are being nicely pulled together.
Great story
Harry