The Ends of Rossford

[CharmedFan28]

I am really enjoying this new Rossford story! I am glad Layla's birth went ok. I wonder what Dan's letter will say? I am very interested to find out. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Have a good rest of your weekend. Thanks for reading.

 

[ChrisGibson]

FENN HAS A CHAT WITH AN OLD FRIEND AND PREPARES A VISIT

Sunday morning he stopped at Adele’s apartment, yes, to see his sister, but also for his mail. He wondered what it was that Dan could have to say. He should have been a year into seminary by now. He’d graduated a year earlier than Fenn. On time. As they say.
“Hoot’s looking for a house.”
“Well it makes sense now that you all have Layla. And then when all the other kids come…” Fenn shrugged.
“I don’t know that I want other kids,” Adele said.
Across the room Layla was asleep in her crib and Adele said, “One is enough, and it’s not that Layla’s a difficult baby. In fact, she’s kind of a charmed one. But it’s the pain aspect.”
Fenn raised an eyebrow.
“They say you forget the pain?” Adele shook her head and took a great breath. “You never forget the pain. Or the pregnancy. The back pain. The titties. My titties hurt so bad. If I could pay someone else to do it, or if I could get a strap on uterus, well then I might do it. But neither one is an option, so it’s going to have to be Layla.”
“Speaking of Layla,” Fenn said, “can I have my letter?”
“What’s that gotta do with—oh!” Adele laughed. She raised a finger and stood up while her brother chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”
She was right back with a long envelope addressed from Dan Malloy.
“You think he’s writing to say he wants you back?”
“I think it’s too fucking late for that,” Fenn stuffed the letter in his breast pocket.
“And besides,” he added, “it’s addressed from a monastery, so I’m thinking no.”

Dear Fenn,
How have you been? I haven’t talked to you in so long, and I miss you. I didn’t mean for us to part so sadly, or so definitely. I hope you didn’t think that I was telling you I didn’t want us to be friends anymore. I just wanted you to be happy and free. That’s all I ever want for you. I hope you are still my friend. If you aren’t then I accept it, but I think about you so much.
The last year has been so strange. I’m learning so much I never knew before. I’m learning what it means to be a priest, part of this band of brothers. I am finally learning what it means to be in the image of Christ, not that we’re the only ones who are. I mean, I don’t feel very Christly at all. But our vocational director says the job of a priest is to manifest the image of Christ at all times so that everyone can see the Timeless Christ. I can’t argue with that.
Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with stuff like that. What I do want is to hear from you. I sent this letter to you Mom’s house, and I don’t even know if you got it, or when you will get it. I just have faith you will. Maybe once we’re in contact again, you can even make a trip down here to see me.
Yours,
Danny

Fenn put the letter down, light hearted. He missed his friend so much. He loved life with Tom, but being divorced from Dan and his old life, there was a sort of vacancy in him.
However, when Tom came into the living room, and saw him with the letter in his hand and the smile on his face then said, “What’s that?” Fenn answered:
“Nothing. I mean, it’s a letter from an old friend. It’s nice to stay in touch with old friends,” he added.
“Yeah,” said Tom, who took this on faith and not experience. “It is.”

The new school year was beginning, and Tom was working full time at Loretto again.
“I could probably get you a job there, too,” he told Fenn, but the look on Fenn’s face said it was best not to repeat that suggestion.
“I’m going to audition in Chicago again,” Fenn said.
“But if you’re in Chicago you’re not here.”
“Yes, that is a basic rule of geography,” Fenn said. “However a basic rule of economy is that if I’m here, I’m not working.”
“Well,” Tom said, frowning, “I don’t really mind if you don’t work.”
“I do,” said Fenn, understanding that Tom would be content to handle all of the bills and even hand out his meager money so that Fenn was around more often. “I mind that very much. The last play really put money in the pot, and as long as we’re together, I’m always going to put money in the pot.”

If you didn’t mind traveling, there was always steady work in Chicago. This time he heeded Tom’s wishes and came home every night.
“If you want me to come every night,” he said, “you better pay for this pass, or else all my money will be eaten up in travel.”
Tom paid.
If there was a weekend run, he stayed with Trisha, and all of this happened so quickly, that he had not written Dan back though he kept Dan’s letter with him all the time. One night, at Trisha’s, he reached into his back pack and pulled out the by now much folded letter. He read it only briefly before taking out pen and paper.


Daniel,
I’m sorry for not getting a hold of you sooner. I graduated this May, and isn’t it fucking about time? Tom wanted us to move into an apartment together, and we have. It happened right away, only a few days after I moved out of the dorm. Ask me how it is? Wait, I can hardly tell you because I’m never there. I did a play in Chicago—I was understudy, not the star, and not even an understudy for the star, but the money was good—that lasted all summer, and I came back here to receive your letter. I’m just getting around to writing you back because I was waiting for a good time before I realized that such a time doesn’t exist. So now I’m back in Chicago and in another play, and tonight I’m writing you from a friend’s house.
I do want to see you. I think about you as much as you think about me. Letters may not be the answer, though, if we want to arrange something. Call soon.
-F


However, when Fenn left a phone number, it was not the number of the apartment he shared with Tom, but Adele’s home phone.

“You’re no good coming home every night,” Tom told him. “This is exhausting you.”
“Thank you,” was all Fenn said.
“You know,” Tom told him, “We could move to Chicago.”
Fenn looked at Tom, and burst out laughing.
“What?” he touched Fenn’s head, which was on his lap.
“You don’t mean that,” Fenn said, turning and placing his head in Tom’s stomach.
“Of course I do.”
“You mean it,” Fenn said. “But I would be a wicked asshole to say yes, and we both know it. I have no wish to make you look for another job, and that’s what you’d have to do. Either I can travel to do plays, or you can travel to work. No, I think we’ll keep things the way they are.”
“I just wish the way things are could mean you were here more often.”
“Do you really mean that?” Fenn said, suddenly, looking up at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tom said. “Of course I mean it.”
Fenn sat up now, running a hand over his head.
“I know you do,” said Fenn. “It’s good to hear it, though. Sometimes I cannot believe you love me. And that we love each other.”
Tom was massaging his hand now.
Three times a week,” he said. “And how about I come to see you?”
“You do come,” Fenn said emphatically. “You’re so good to me. You come to see me do these plays where I’m nobody, and you act like I’m the star.”

While Tom was in the shower, the phone rang and Fenn picked it up.
“It’s me,” Adele said.
“Hey, Sis.”
“I got a phone call from Dan Malloy.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But why did he call me? Why didn’t he call you?”
“I just thought it would be easier that way.”
“Easier?” Adele said. “Whaddo you mean?
“Fenn, are you hiding Dan from Tom?”
“That’s kind of a drastic way to put it.”
“But you are!” Adele said.
“Well, what if I am?” Fenn whispered into the phone.
“I don’t think Tom would handle the idea of Dan too well. I’ll tell him eventually. They’ll probably meet. But what did he say?”
“He left his phone number. He’s got a phone in his room. He said he didn’t know if he should leave it because he wasn’t sure… Oh, hell, I think you’re both crazy.”
“Thank you for your observations. Now give me the number.”
As the shower shut off, and Tom began singing in the bathroom, Adele told him.


“Dan?”
“Fenn, is that you?”
“Of course it’s me.”
“I thought I’d never hear from you.”
“Why would you say that? I left my number.”
“I know,” Dan acknowledged. “Hold on a second.”
“Alright.”
There was some scuffling, and then Dan said, “Alright, that’s better. So, how was the play?”
“It was good.”
Then Fenn said, “It’s so strange talking to you after I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“We can have visitors, you know?” Dan told him. “You can come and see me.
“Or was that too much?”
“No,” Fenn said. “It absolutely wasn’t too much. I’ve missed you a lot too. We haven’t seen each other in forever.”
“I know,” Dan said.
“So?”
“Yes?”
“What about this Tom?”
“Tom?”
“Yes. What’s he like?”
Suddenly it seemed very hard to describe Tom, and odd that Dan wanted to know about him.
“He’s… well… He plays the organ. He’s in music ministry at the college. I think you’d like him.”
Fenn realized he didn’t believe that for a minute. There was no way that Dan and Tom would like each other. The two of them were such different people. He could just see it now.
“So are you living with Tom, or are you living with Adele?”
“Well, I’m—” Fenn stopped. He realized why Dan had asked it.
“I’m living in a lot of places lately,” Fenn said. “But it’s easier to reach me at Adele’s.”
Dan did not press this, and Fenn thought Oh, now I’m lying.
“When do you want me to come?” he asked Dan.
“We have fall break in a few weeks, but, really, you could come whenever you want to.”
Mentally Fenn went through Tom’s calendar. They were so seldom together that Fenn wanted to do it at a time when Tom was busy.
“The week before fall break,” Fenn decided, “is something I think I can do.”

MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

I don't know how Tom is going to take Fenn and Dan's relationship. I get why Fenn is keeping it a secret but I can see that easily blowing up in his face. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow! Have a great week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Yes, I don't know if the older Fenn we are used to would do this, or maybe he would. Fenn has always been a bit of a trickster and concealer. Why do you think Fenn didn't tell Tom about going to see Dan?

 

[CharmedFan28]

Maybe he didn't want to scare him by talking about a past partner. As we have seen Tom isn't very experienced at this stage and he might get jealous? I don't know.

 

[ChrisGibson]

I think that's it. Now, I wrote this a while ago, so even though I DID obviously invent Fenn, I can't quite see into his head, but I do know him well, and I wonder if maybe he didn't tell Tom because to him the trip isn't entirely innocent. Like, I am wondering if in the back of his mind things are as closed with Dan as he says they are. I had forgotten this whole part, but seeing it again I wonder if there are darker motives at hand. I do know that I wanted to show that it takes two people to make a relationship and it isn't just a bad Tom and good Fenn, but two people, and I hope that you see that with them, and that Tom is actually, as you said, pretty inexperienced, but also pretty great. Does that make sense?

 

[CharmedFan28]

That makes a lot of sense.

 

[ChrisGibson]

“Well, I sure hope you have fun,” Tom told him on the morning Fenn was head out. They lay in bed together, and Tom’s arms were wrapped around Fenn’s chest. Fenn stroked Tom’s hair.
“What?” Tom said.
Fenn looked down at him and said, “I can’t believe how much I love you. Sometimes I feel like we’re in this dream, and it’s a dream where everything I ever wanted comes true.”
“So?” Tom traced a circle on Fenn’s chest, “I’m everything you ever wanted?”
Fenn went down into the covers deeper so that he and Tom could wrap their arms tight around each other.
“Tommy, did you ever doubt it?”

Tom took him to the Amtrak station south of town and from there the ride across state was three hours to Sainte Terre College and its seminary.
Dan was waiting for him at the train station, wearing his usual uniform of khakis and neatly tucked Oxford blue shirt.
“Fenn!” he cried. He took Fenn’s bag, and while Fenn was preparing to hug him, Dan offered his hand. Eyebrow raised, Fenn shook it, and then Dan said, “The car’s this way.”
Izmir was a stately town not far from the Ohio border, and in the autumn the red brick campus looked especially vivid against the green grass. Saint Benedict’s seminary rested on the lake, and it was a large castle like structure.
“There’s the monastery. This place in Benedictine. That Church? I’ll show it to you. Isn’t it huge? It’s nothing like the one at Citeaux.” Dan’s voice went gentle. “This is a much quieter place.”
In some ways Dan was always someone who’d had a difficult time with lots of people and, in many ways, wished to be left alone.
“And there’s the monastery, and then right there? It used to be part of the monastery—is the seminary—and that building across from it, with the little garden, where you will stay, is the guesthouse. It’s just like a hotel.”
Dan drove him all around the place, and then said, “Are you tired? Would you like to put your stuff away?”
“I would like to put the bag up,” Fenn said. “I shouldn’t be tired. I’ve been on a train, sitting down for three hours.”
“Well, you probably want to take a nap,” Dan told him.
He did, in fact, want to take a nap, and so Fenn did not argue this. They found a parking lot, and before Fenn could take his suitcase from the trunk, Dan had it. Fenn felt things were happening very fast and at a distance, and he could not catch up with Dan, who wasn’t looking at him, anyway.
Now Fenn saw that the whole complex was circled by a brick wall with vines climbing over it, a type of paradise, and he stepped into a place with a lane leading up to the alcove of the church. To his left was a plain but sweet brick building, and to the right the wall that encircled the monastery and the seminary. Dan yanked open a door and while holding Fenn’s suitcase in one hand, pushed the door open for Fenn with the other.
“This place,” Dan said, looking around, “is nice.”
The guesthouse was carpeted, and there was a view of hills going down to the lake. There was a parlor and a monk sitting at a desk chatting with what Fenn’s mother would call a “silly old women.” Fenn followed Dan to the elevator. They went up a couple of floors and then Dan grunted, lifted his bag and said, “Over this way.”
He entered something more like a hotel room than a monk’s cell, and the wide, mullioned window looked across the lane to the courtyard of the monastery.
Dan set the bag down, grinned and said, “So we can see each other at night, and then added, “Not really. My room’s far on the other side of the seminary.”
Dan stood before Fenn, looking awkward, and then he took a deep breath and said, “Well, I’m going to let you rest and walk around. Vespers is at five if you want to come. Then we can go to dinner after that? How’s that sound?”
Fenn, still not entirely here, or entirely aware of what was happening, said, “Sounds good.”
Dan nodded and, smiling, he left.
For some reason, possibly the reason that he needed to sleep, Fenn was glad when Dan was gone.

When he heard the bells ringing, Fenn knew it was time for Lauds. After all, he had once lived in a monastery. Dutifully, he slipped his shoes on and prepared to go downstairs. He wondered what it would be like in a Trappist monastery. As he found his way through the plush guest house to the elevator, and then down the hall to the church, he imagined wearing a long white robe, his arms folded into the sleeves, pointed hood turned up while he was on his way to prayer.
The church was still old, and when he entered, there was a gallery of several pews for laypeople that ended in a low, closed gate separating them from the rest of the church, and the pews where the monks would sit. Black robed monks entered from the other side of the church, filling their seats which looked across the church to each other. Above him now, Fenn heard feet tramping into what must have been the choir loft. He kept looking up at the low polished wood ceiling though none of the other people, most of them fairly old, did. Suddenly Fenn felt a tap on his back and turned to see Dan.
“Come with me,” Dan said eagerly, and Fenn followed him.
They went out of the chapel and then back to the guesthouse, to the back of the guesthouse, and then up the stairs to an old door Dan which jimmied. He yanked it and Fenn helped, and then he saw that they were in the church again, only now they were in a balcony overlooking the monks, and it was filled with mostly young and somewhat awkward young men.
“This is where we sit during Evening Prayer,” Dan told him, and they sat together, while Dan handed him a book.
There was a rap on wood from one of the monks far down below, and then all the seminarians stood up, and Fenn could hear people rising beneath him.
One of the monks came to the podium and chanted: “Oh, God come to my assistance.”
“Oh, Lord make haste to help me,” everyone responded.
“Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit!”
“As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. World without end. Amen.”
As the room full of people traced the sign of the cross over their brows, lips and shoulders, Vespers began.

“We could eat in the guesthouse, or we could eat with the monks and the seminarians,” Dan offered.
“The monks,” Fenn told him. Guest were guests. Monks? Seminarians? That was a whole other thing.
“Great,” Dan said with a look that told Fenn he was pleased

“This is Lou. This is Pete, and that’s Jason. He just graduated from DePaul this year.”
Jason nodded to Fenn and Fenn realized he had already forgotten the first two guys and would probably forget Jason in a few minutes if he didn’t keep repeating his name.
“Fenn just graduated in May too,” Dan told him.
“I had applied to seminary before that,” Jason said. “It’s a long process.”
“You have to do the psych evals,” one of them made a face, putting a gun sign to his head. “Make sure you’re not nuts.”
“Why do so many nuts slip through, then?” Fenn wondered.
While Jason chuckled, Dan said, “Fenn, that’s kind of harsh.”
“I didn’t say you were nuts,” Fenn told him. “Just, there are a fair amount of the maladjusted and the warped in the priesthood.”
“I think we ought to steer away from that subject,” Dan suggested, nervously.
Another one at the table said, “I used to ask my grandfather about all the crazies in the Church, and he would say the light always attracts a few bugs.”
They all laughed, but Dan was looking at the table, tapping his finger, and his laughter was somewhat strained.
“What’s wrong with you?” Fenn said, “Did you have a hard time on your psych eval?”
Dan looked at him, somewhat pained and said, “I just forgot how you can be. That’s all.”
Fenn was glad he’d said this in a small voice, and surprised to be a little hurt by it.
“Priests aren’t crazy, Fenn,” Dan added weakly.

Fenn realized he had forgotten how Dan could be, too.

“I consecrated myself to the Immaculate Heart of the Virgin Mary,” Dan told him, once.
“Oh?” said Fenn.
“Yes. It’s the most wonderful thing you can do. And you should do it too. I mean, especially if you’re serious about being a priest.”
Fenn was serious about a life with God. Who wouldn’t be? Well, most people wouldn’t be. But this was a deep passion. The only life he knew with God was that of a priest and so, by default, he was serious about it at the time.
They were in the Arts and Letters building of Citeaux University, where Dan went, and a great crucifix spanned the arch over the main entrance.
Dan stopped and caught his breath.
“What?” said Fenn.
His eyes nearly full of tears, Dan turned to Fenn and said:
“He must love us so much! Just look at that!”

Five years later, sitting next to a very sober Dan Malloy, Fenn heard him say, “Priests aren’t crazy, Fenn.”
Nope, but maybe you are.

“I miss you!” Tom exclaimed when Fenn called that night.
“Baby, I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Did you hear what you just said?”
“Yeah,” Fenn said. “I just told you I’d be back in a few days. And I promise, I will.”
“No,” Tom said. “You called me Baby.”
“I do that all the time.”
“You’ve never done that before.”
“It really matters to you?”
“Of course it does.”
“I love you Tom.”
Tom didn’t say anything. He knew Tom had heard this, but that he was absorbing it. Fenn looked at the very white, very sad picture of the Blessed Virgin on the wall and thought: He’s treasuring these things in his heart.
“You know I love you, Fenn,” Tom replied. “Sometimes I don’t think it’s possible to say how much. Where are you, anyway?”
“You won’t believe this. But I’m in a monastery.”
“Didn’t you live in one for a while back in college?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, now, I don’t put anything past you, Fenn Houghton.”
They chuckled in the small room with the crucifix, and after how Dan had hurt him, the laughter felt good.
“Hurry home,” Tom said.
“I promise I will.”


MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

I think Fenn might have to tell Tom about Dan soon. Its going to come out in some way eventually. I am very much enjoying this exploration into the past! Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I'm enjoying going back to it and seeing it through your eyes as well. I hope you have a great night. You're probably asleep by now. Thank you so much for reading and I hope the story touches you.

 

[ChrisGibson]

TONIGHT FENN LEARNS WHAT IS TRULY IMPORTANT AND HE AND TOM GROW CLOSER AND CLOSER


THE NEXT MORNING Dan announced, “I’ve got some free time today, so we could spend it looking around the monastery.”
He knew Fenn well enough not to knock on his door until after nine, and Fenn said, “Let me get dressed, and then I’ll be down in about a half hour.”
“All the good breakfast will be gone.”
“Will there be coffee?”
“I think there’s always coffee.”
“Well, I’ve got the cigarettes, so that makes a balanced meal.”
Dan opened his mouth, probably to say that cigarettes were not part of a balanced breakfast. But in the end he left alone.

After Fenn had the breakfast he’d promised himself, he let Dan walk him around the church. The door that had been closed during Vespers was open so they could walk over the floor and past the stalls.
“Part of me thinks it would be nice to be a monk.”
“If I was a monk I would be a Buddhist,” Fenn said.
Dan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Or a Hindu, really. I don’t know if they have Hindu monasteries, but I love the Bhagavad Gita.”
“I think we read some of that in college.”
“If I did you did,” Fenn said. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure,” but Dan sounded as if he wasn’t sure he was ready for Fenn’s secrets.
“Jesus bores me.”
“Fenn!”
“He does,” Fenn said. “If I could stop being Catholic I would. He’s all… dead. On that cross. All the saints are so sad. Everyone’s so sad.”
“The sins of the world hurt the heart of Jesus.”
“Don’t you think Jesus should get a stronger heart?” Fenn said. “Seriously. Him crying about every little grievance. No, Jesus hardly ever does it for me, I still go to church, but can I tell you another secret?”
“I almost wish you wouldn’t.”
“I don’t see Jesus. I remember this beautiful, beautiful painting of Krishna. He’s so handsome and blue. That’s who I’m really talking to.”
The whole time Fenn was speaking, Dan looked at him askance, his mouth half open in a look that said, “What the fuck are you?”
But, instead, Dan just said, “Why are you saying all of this?”
“Because it’s true.”
Dan jammed his hands in his pockets and shook his head.
“Com’ on,” he said, “I’m gonna show you the Stations of the Cross.”

Each station was done in concrete, and life sized, going up and down a hill that overlooked the monastery. At the base of it was the lake, and this is where Fenn really wished to go. He wanted to go see the town. Over each station, Dan lingered with loving care, his face full of sorrow at the crown of thorns placed on the head of Jesus. He nearly wept at the Lord stumbling.
“Look at how he loves us,” he murmured as Veronica wiped Jesus’ face. Every step toward Calvary seemed slower and slower. Fenn longed for the other side of the hill and the lake. Why had he come here?
“That’s it, Fenn,” Dan said, pointing to the crucifix at the top of the hill.
“That, there, is the greatest love story ever.”
“I think the greatest love story is the lake,” Fenn said, and, having lost all patience, he went past the crucifix and hurtled down the hill toward the water.
He was sitting at the edge of the beach, and because it was warmer than usual, he had taken his shoes off when Dan finally came toward him.
“I think that’s why I asked you to come,” Dan said.
“Because I like the beach better than looking at crucifixes? I would have been a priest if I could be a priest to the God of nature.”
“Well, our God tells us to curb our natures.”
“Your God, maybe. And I am sorry for that. If we had a God the Mother—”
“We have Mary.”
“That’s hardly the same. Flat chested Virgins are hardly mothers and scarcely God.”
“That’s too much!” Dan said, his voice a little heated.
“Why is it too much? Every true thing I say, every opinion I have, you act like I insulted your own mother. And speaking of mothers: God the Mother.”
“That’s just silly.”
“Why is it silly? It’s not silly. It’s terrifying to a priesthood that hamstrings women—and men for that matter—every way it can.”
“So now my job is evil?”
“It’s not your job. Not yet. And you can’t deny there isn’t something a little wrong about it. Women would fix that. And not just a token woman. A woman pope.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I can’t figure out if you hate women or fear them.”
“Neither. Women are a reflection of the Blessed Virgin.”
“But men are a reflection of God?”
“Yes.”
Fenn threw his head back and laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” Dan shouted, suddenly. “Why do you come here and have no respect for anything? The priesthood was given to Peter and the disciples and passed down to the bishops and from them it will pass to me. Men are in the image of Christ and because of that we will do the Mass. We will make Christ on earth! The body and blood of Jesus, constantly renewed keeps the world spinning.”
“Imagine that,” Fenn said drily, “all of those priest who taught me biology, geology and general science said it was gravity. The whole time they were holding out on me.”
Then Fenn added, “A woman would never say that.”
“A man is made in the image of Christ.”
“And the image of Christ is,” Fenn began, “not to be wise, not to be kind, not to be compassionate. Not even to be Jewish, but… to have a penis? And a penis you don’t even use and are half embarrassed about.”
Dan had gone apoplectic and said, “Maybe you’re just upset because you don’t have it in you to do what I am doing.”
“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Fenn said, witheringly, turning to look back at the lake, “An idiot could do what you’re doing and many idiots have. You’re just the latest one. I’m not a priest because I have no taste for this God. My God is a God of nature. You met him when you were still with me, though you choose to forget. You know all about that God. He terrifies you. I am his priest. I always will be.
“What happened to you?” Fenn said, turning back to Dan, “And when did you become so silly that bullshit shat out by stupid priests could flatter your ears and turn your head?”
Fenn stood up.
“You’re nuts. You were half nuts before, but now you’re all the way there. Let’s go back to the monastery. I’m tired of this. I leave in the morning.”
Fed up, Fenn began to walk across the beach and head left of the hill, refusing to go back up to Calvary.
Face stony, the waves crashing behind him, Dan Malloy followed.


“I’m home!”
Tom threw down his pencil and ran across the room, his dark hair a mess.
“I didn’t shower. I didn’t cook! I could have picked you up.”
Tom threw his arms around Fenn.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”
“I wanted to surprise you,” Fenn said, picking Tom up. He made a heaving noise because Tom was not light, though he was lighter and shorter than Fenn. Like a bride he brought Tom to the sofa and sat with the boy on his lap, Tom’s head on his shoulder.
He kissed him.
“I missed you so much, and I’m so glad I’m with you. I never know how lucky I am until I’m away from you.”
“Let’s never be parted again,” Tom said.
That was flatly impossible Fenn realized. If he was going to work, it couldn’t be in Rossford.
“Alright,” he said, though.
He kissed Tom again, and Tom leaned over him, wrapping his arms about him.
“Did you eat yet?” Tom asked him.
“No. Not really.”
“Well, I just went to the store.”
“Good. Rise up my love,” Fenn said, moving Tom aside as he stood up.
“I’m going to go into the fridge and cook something for you.”
“But I was going to put something together for you!”
Tom was, at best, a mediocre cook, and Fenn was proud of his skills.
“No, Thomas,” he told him. “Tonight I’m going to cook for you.”
He loved Tom, and to take a three hour train ride, surprise him by turning up two days early and then prepare him dinner was the way he showed it.
An hour later when Tom, eyes lit, ate everything on his plate and oohed and ahhed over the flavors saying, fervently, “You are the best cook in the world!” Fenn had his satisfaction. It did not matter that he was so tired he was ready to collapse.
“Can you be the best dishwasher in the world?” Fenn said. “I’m going to shower and then go to bed.”
“I could draw you a bath,” Tom put his fork down.
“I would fall asleep in the tub.”

Fenn had been half asleep when Tom drifted into the room, and Fenn could hear his shuffling around. He knew Tom was undressing. Lazily he turned around to see Tom, back to him, take off his shirt and his jeans, then his underwear too. He watched, with love, Tom’s naked body, and longed to be connected to it, and then watched him pull on a pair of black shorts. Fenn turned around so Tom would not know he had watched him.
Suddenly the bed lowered under Tom’s small weight, and his arms went around Fenn.
He pressed his head into Fenn’s shoulder and his body into Fenn’s back.
“I’m so glad you’re home.”
“I’m glad this is home,” Fenn said. He thought of turning around, but he was too tired even for that, he reached up and squeezed Tom’s arms, double hugging himself.
“I had no idea how much this was home, or how glad I am of it, of you, until I was gone.”

“Tom, you’re mine,” Fenn whispered in the dark. “Be mine.”
Tom stirred a little and felt Fenn’s hand slip into his shorts. He stirred.
“I…” he started, “I didn’t know you’d be up for it tonight.”
“Neither did I.” Fenn turned around.
Tom sat up, pulling off his shorts.
“You want it with foreplay?”
“No. I really just want you to fuck me as hard as possible.”
Tom scrambled for the lubricant. He was ready.
“I want to see you when you do it,” Fenn said. “I want you looking me in the face. Hold on. You know how I need to start.”
Eagerly Tom went onto his back, and Fenn sat down on him, always surprised at the size of Tom, and the initial pain of his entry. Tom bucked up too fast. Fenn put his hands on his chest and whispered for him to slow down. They fell into a rhythm, Tom’s face excited, boylike with the joy of what his penis was doing to Fenn by being inside of him. They switched now, so that Tom knelt between his legs, slow at first, then fucking quicker.
“Is it alright?” Tom said breathlessly.
“I’m used to it now,” Fenn told him. “I don’t need you to hold back now. I’m tired of people holding back. Just do it as hard as you want.”
It was short and sweet and visceral, and they both shouted. Tom came violently, and then lay on his back beside Fenn.
“I used to think you’d hate me if I ever did that,” Tom said after a while. He stroked Fenn’s cheek with the back of his hand.
“Why?”
“Cause you fell in love with me when I was sweet, and I always try to be sweet. I always try to look after you—”
“You always do.”
“Looking after is the love and the tenderness. What I just did—”
“Is part of it too.”
Tom turned on his side and wrapped his arms about Fenn.
“I used to get worried about the way I felt about you.”
“Because you wanted to fuck me?” Fenn said.
“Yes. That’s not… It’s not decent.”
“You weren’t decent, Mr. Mesda. You weren’t decent at all. I’m going to hurt for the next day and a half.”
Tom’s face changed.
“Don’t say that. I mean. I didn’t mean to—”
“Tom,” Fenn put a hand to his face. “Do you think if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t have asked for it? I want all of you. Not half of you. That part of you a few minutes where you were so strong and all your muscles tensed and the veins were in your face, that private part of you? That’s the part I need. The suit and tie part of you is nice. The musician part of you is nice too. But it belongs to the world. The part of you that I just saw: that belongs to me.”


MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

I think Fenn was a bit harsh with Dan but I can see both sides. I am glad Fenn is happy to be home with Tom. At this stage in their lives they seem very compatible with each other. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Yes, he probably was harsh with Dan. I'm not sure if that's a bad thing, but it's a Fenn thing. I often wonder about the differences between the twenty something year old Fenn here and the sixty ish year old Fenn we'll meet when the story shifts to the future. Maybe you'll see the differences too. Have a great night. Thanks for reading.

P.S. I just went back and looked. Dan's such a tool box at this point, I'd be harsh with him too!

 

[ChrisGibson]

PART ONE OF OUR THURSDAY NIGHT DOUBLE FEATURE


THREE



FENN AND TOM
AND THEN SOME


As predicted, Fenn did feel Tom inside of him for the next day or so. Actual fucking was something they didn’t do everyday and certainly not with the fury Fenn had invited the night before. The throbbing inside of him made him gentle toward Tom, and in their apartment Tom was so quiet most of the time, leaning over his desk or over his piano. There were whole hours in which he said nothing while Fenn sat on the couch reading or going over a script. And then Fenn would drift off to sleep and wake up with Tom sitting on the floor, his curly head against Fenn’s side.
“Hello, Lover,” he would say, and Tom would smile and say, “Hello, stranger.”
“I talked to Tara the other day,” Fenn said, while he buried a hand in the thickness of Tom’s hair. “She told me she’s doing radio.”
He stroked Tom’s head, and Tom made a contented noise like an old dog.
“I was thinking, if I applied to the radio station to do voice work, then I wouldn’t have to leave town so much.”
Tom’s head turned so quickly, Fenn’s fingers were nearly stuck in his curls.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Well, you would have moved to Chicago for me. And, actually, it’s for me, too.”
“That’s awesome, Fenn,” Tom told him. “That’d be great.”
“Tom, would you like to do me doggy style?”
“What?” Tom looked confused.
“Doggy style. Like in the dirty films. From behind. I personally like missionary fucking. That’s what I’m going to do to you. But after the other night, I think you might like that. You never let me see your wild side. I want all your sides.”
Tom, mouth open, was looking at Fenn with a twinkle in his eye.
“You…” he began, “are the most amazing motherfucker. How can you be my boyfriend?”
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
“It’s a… It’s an exclamation,” Tom said, suddenly climbing up on Fenn and laying across him. He kissed him merrily, and touched his face, smiling down at him in wonder.
“I just don’t know what the fuck to do with you.”

For days, Fenn and Tom lived in their bliss, Tom getting up to go to the college, Fenn getting up to get a cup of coffee and then go back to bed. Work did not bother him. Whenever he had jobs and came back home, he simply handed all of his money over to Tom. Several months rent, enough for many weeks of groceries. Tom, in turn, handed over his checkbook. Fenn’s account had nothing in it and Tom had no control over his own funds but to buy gas and lunch. They liked it that way. One Saturday morning there was a knock at the door while Fenn was cooking breakfast and Tom, at the new dining room table he’d bought from Goodwill, put down the newspaper like a middle aged husband and said, “I’ve got it.”
“Ahright,” Fenn nodded negligently.
A few minutes later, as Fenn was laying out the bacon, Tom came into the kitchen and Fenn couldn’t understand the look on his face.
“It’s someone here to see you,” Tom said.
“Me?” Fenn frowned.
Entering the kitchen behind Tom, tall and ash blond, looking equally unreadable, was Dan Malloy.


“Tom, give me a moment,” Fenn said.
He could tell that Tom, in fact, did not want to give him a moment, but he needed one, possibly several. Tom went back into the dining room, and Fenn came out into the living room.
“Fenn.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to make things right.”
“Well, now you’ve made them all wrong.”
“Tom didn’t know about me, did he?”
“He knew of you. He knew you existed. Did you tell him I went down to visit you?”
“Yes, I thought he knew. I botched things up, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Dan. Yes, you did. Oh, God, I could slap you,” Fenn lamented. “I really could. You ruin my trip across state to visit you, and then you come and ruin things with my boyfriend. God, you’re such an ass, you know that?”
“I do,” Dan said. “Yes, I do in fact know that. I wanted to make everything right. Why doesn’t he know about me?”
“Because saying I was going down to visit the person I used to sleep with just wouldn’t be classy.”
“We can talk about…whatever it is you think we need to talk about. But not right now. Right now I have to make things right with Tom.”
“I got a room at the hotel on Meridian,” Dan said.
“Good,” Fenn said. “Give me the room number and I’ll come there when I’m done with Tom.”
“Alright.” Dan stood up stiffly. He seemed to be debating if he should offer his hand or not. In the end he chose not to.
“It’s room 303. I hope to see you soon. I’ll let myself out.”

Tom sat at the dining room table, arms folded over his chest.
“You lied to me,” he said.
“Yes, I did,” Fenn said.
“You hid this from me. You went to visit another man. Your ex.”
Fenn nodded.
“And you hid it from me.”
Fenn said nothing.
“Say something.”
“There’s nothing to say, Tom. “You’re right, and I was most definitely wrong.”
Tom looked desperately at him. He stomped his foot.
“What?” Fenn said.
“I want to fight with you,” he said. “I want to be angry at you. I am.”
“I know. And you should be.”
“But you won’t let me stay angry. You won’t fight.”
“Tom, I kept this secret from you,” Fenn sat in the chair. “I felt like I needed to keep something to myself. I certainly wasn’t going to cheat on you. There was just something in me that felt like this should be secret. Be mine. The apartment is ours, the bed is ours. Our life is ours. Dan was mine. That was wrong of me, love. I know that now.”
Tom nodded, sitting down now, across from him.
“He’s kinda constipated,” Tom said, jerking his thumb toward the living room where Dan had been.
“He can be.”
“Is that why…? How everything that happened that night you came home happened?”
Fenn stopped, thinking, and then remembered: “When I asked you to fuck me as hard as possible? Yes.”
“You’re giving me a boner.”
Fenn looked between Tom’s blue jeaned legs. He reached forward and pressed his hand there, squeezing a little while Tom’s lips parted.
“You can’t just use sex to control me,” Tom’s voice was gentle with longing, and not at all serious.
Fenn’s hand still rested there.
“Baby, hold onto this wood for me until I get back.”
“Get back?” Tom seemed to be stirring from sleep and he moved Fenn’s hand.
“I have to go see Dan.”
“You’re terrible!” Tom moaned.
Fenn kissed him hard and then said, “I will be very terrible when I get back. I promise you. But I have to see Dan. He’s in a hotel. You know exactly where I am. The one on Meridan. Room 303. I’m going there. I’ll be back… I’m saying in an hour, but it might end up being two.”
While Tom looked on him, Fenn said, “I will suck your dick all night if you say yes.”
“You are so fucking crass sometimes.”
“Then why do you have a hard on again?” Fenn said, reaching for the car keys that rested between them. He headed back into the living room and then out of the apartment, shouting, “I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m here,” Fenn said when Dan opened the door.
Dan spread out his hands to welcome Fenn into his hotel room.
“Come in. Or would you like to go out?”
“Your room is very small,” Fenn said. “I’d rather talk on the porch.”
“Alright,” Dan said, stepping out and closing the door behind him.
The motel had a long balcony that ran around the entire structure and overlooked the cars driving up and down Meridian. Fenn sat down against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest, and Dan followed suit.
“I have no idea why you wanted me to see you,” Fenn said, simply. “We are of no use to each other. You’ve become something I don’t understand.
“No,” he changed his mind. “You’ve become what you were on your way to becoming. I understand it. It’s not that strange. Except it’s strange that we were ever together. And now you’re here.”
“To apologize for my behavior,” Dan said. “I was just, flatly, odd.”
“I may have been odd as well,” Fenn confessed. “But I don’t know another way to be. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want us to be friends.”
“You shook my hand when I got off the train,” Fenn said. “And that is strange considering what we used to be.”
“Fenn, I can’t let my affection go beyond that,” Dan said.
“You think I don’t struggle? You think I don’t struggle with thoughts about you? You’re a much stronger person than me. You never go against your ethics. I might very well go against mine. You have Tom. The only person I was ever with is you.”
Dan wasn’t looking at Fenn anymore. He was looking at something Fenn couldn’t guess at, and he said, “It has been so long for me, and sometimes it’s so hard. It’s almost unbearable.”
Dan continued before Fenn could speak.
“Not with my brother seminarians. Not with anyone at Saint Benedict’s. There’s nothing tempting about them. But by myself I still…. Want affection. Just to hold someone. Just to be held. I think I’d explode if you caressed my hand. I’m at that place, now.
“So when you came I didn’t know how to act. I’m sorry. There was a lot going on inside of me. There is still a lot going on inside of me.”
Dan grinned sheepishly and said, “Saint Benedict’s is so quiet and so peaceful. But when you’re there a while it’s this pressure cooker. So much is going on under the surface. Monks go crazy. Seminarians disappear for days at a time. You start to suspect you’re the only one who’s really being celibate, but you don’t dare say it out loud. It’s like… It’s like… Sex is in the air, but no one can say it. It literally gives me headaches.”
“I think it’s going to turn you into a very different person.”
“It’s already turning me into a different person!” Dan almost exploded.
“You are lonely,” Fenn said.
When Dan did not respond, Fenn added, “You will stay with us tonight.”
“What?”
“You will stay with me and Tom tonight.”
“Is he going to like that?”

“No. In fact he’ll hate it, especially because he’s sitting there with a boner waiting for an all night sex session.”

But what Fenn actually said was: “Yes, Dan. He’s just that kind of person.”

In the apartment Fenn said, “Take that look off your face and do this for me. He needs our help. I told him you’re just that kind of person, so please, Tom, fucking be this kind of person.”
Tom, hands on hips and brow furrowed looked out the window to the courtyard where Dan was arriving.
“You’re a church organist at a Catholic college who works in religious music. You’re supposed to be a Christian.”
“I am a Christian.”
Fenn sighed, went toward the kitchen for a bottle of wine and said, “Then take your hands off your hips and quit frowning. I’ll still suck your dick later on if that’s what’s making you mad. It’s just you’ll have to be really quiet while I do it.”

MORE LATER ON...

 

[CharmedFan28]

I am glad Dan came to make things right with Fenn even if it pissed off Tom. I knew Fenn's secret was going to come out eventually. That was some great writing and I look forward to more later! I hope you are having a nice night!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I am having a strange but lovely night. Thank you. Just beginning to relax, and I'm about to post the next segment up.

 

[ChrisGibson]

PART TWO




“No, no,” Fenn said with honesty, “I don’t think they’ll ever be friends.”
“Well, consider this,” Tara said, “Most people’s exes never meet their current boyfriends, and you got yours to sleep in the same house.”
“What about you and Tonya?”
“Please don’t ask about me and Tonya.”
Fenn sighed. “I always thought it would be easier being a lesbian. I always thought it would be less drama.”
“Are you insane?”
“Well, that was my fantasy,” Fenn justified.
“Well, I wish I could live inside of your head,” Tara told him. “You know where my luck runs? Women who are much too old, and much too sad. Or women who have one leg, or are three hundred pounds, or cripples—and I know they need love too, but seriously! Or even, once, when I was working in a group home—a retarded woman.”
“You had a retarded girlfriend?”
“No, fool. Well, I think in her mind I was her girlfriend. But when you look at what I’ve dealt with, then you understand Tonya wasn’t so bad at all.”
“Compared to them.”
“Well, there’s nothing else to compare her too. Except a vision in my head.”
Then Tara added, “You were lucky. And maybe you think with Dan you weren’t lucky, but it seems to me you were lucky twice.”
“You’re right,” said Fenn. “So lucky and so soon. It doesn’t seem fair or right. It makes me wonder when it will all fall apart.”
Tara looked at him.
“What?” said Fenn.
“Did you seriously just say something that depressing?”
“You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to be privy to all of my depressing thoughts, and then I go back into the light of day with a smile on my face.”
But it did not fall apart. What happened was Tara moved in with them. Tom was more than glad to have her, and life became a real party. Fenn and Tara went to work for the radio station, hosting the afternoon slots and a small call in show. This delighted Tom to no end, and then toward Christmas Tom asked Fenn: “Can you get a few days off?”
“I don’t know,” Fenn said. “I hope. I’ll ask. Why?”
Tom, in his black slacks, white shirt and red tie looked shy and pleased with himself. He put his hands behind his back then reached out one to touch Fenn.
“You’re passport’s in order, right?”
“I haven’t used it yet, but I was supposed to—”
“Shush,” Tom put a finger to his lip. “This winter I’m playing Bach. In Europe. You’re coming with me.”

“Well, damn,” Tara swore. “I am jealous as hell.”
“I feel very awkward,” Tom said. “You are part of our household, but I’m allowed only one companion.”
“Shut up, Tom,” Tara said. “Look,” she turned to Fenn, “this is a great trip for the two of you, and it means an apartment all to myself. Besides, someone’s got to work at the station while you’re gone.”
“It’ll only be two weeks,” Tom said.
“I can’t believe they let me go,” said Fenn.
“Of course they let you go,” Tara shrugged it off. “They knew you would quit otherwise.”

Fenn discovered that he liked flying well enough if he was doing it with Tom next to him. Tom had seen his fair share of airplanes. This was actually Fenn’s first.
“You come off as so cosmopolitan all the time,” Tom noted.
“And now I seem like a rube?”
Tom turned from the window, overlooking the piles of clouds, stuck out his tongue and said, “A little.”
“You’re sort of horrible.”
Tom kissed him quickly.
“You are the most—” Fenn began. “You really don’t care! When I met you, you didn’t know what you were, and now you just never care about what you do with me out in public.”
“Why should I?” Tom shrugged. “Why should I care what people I don’t know may or may not feel? They may look at us and say, ‘What’s that short man doing with that hot Black guy—’”
“I bet they never say that—”
“Or they may say, ‘What an abomination!’ I don’t care. And when I get to Europe and I’m playing all this classical organ that I know you don’t care about—”
“Of course I do.”
“Stop lying. But when I do it,” Tom said, “and then I walk over and kiss you, you know what? I’m still not going to care.”
In the face of that, Fenn just repeated, “Tom, I love your music.”
Tom rolled his eyes.
“You hate organ music. The only reason you sit through concerts is because you love me, and don’t you think I know that? And don’t you think that’s all I need?”
“And I’ll sit through every concert in Europe.”
“Please don’t,” Tom said. “Endless Bach and non stop fugues is just punishing yourself.”
“Well what else will I do in Vienna?”
“Are you kidding me?” Tom looked at him.
“Well, you just said it. “I’m the rube.”
“Well, Rube,” Tom said, “there are museums, stores. The architecture. Opera, Fenn. And all the other music that’s not organ music. And if all else fails, well then your favorite thing.”
“I can’t do that without you.”
Tom blushed, grinned and said, “You could, but I’d rather you didn’t, sir.
“I meant your second favorite thing.”
“Oh. Sleep?”
Tom nodded.
“Um,” Fenn thought about it. “Going to Europe and sleeping through the whole trip. How decadent!”


But, in the end Fenn did not sleep through the trip to Europe. In fact, he attended all of Tom’s appearances. He didn’t want to miss a one of them. What was looking at a building he didn’t know, or sitting in a café talking to people he didn’t understand, compared to watching his Tom shine? And Tom had waited his whole life to shine. The church organist was the one you never saw, and now everyone was seeing him, and oh how good he looked. Tom Mesda, aged twenty-five.
But they came back to America soon enough.
They came into O’Hare, and from there took the long El train through the northwestern outreaches of Chicago into downtown. From there they caught the South Shore and headed home.
“The winter seems different here,” Fenn murmured, forlornly, looking at the white stubble fields of northern Indiana.
“Greyer,” he said. “Sadder.”
“Maybe you’re just grayer and sadder,” Tom said, placing a hand over Fenn’s.
“It’ll be hard for Rossford to live up to Europe.”
“What about for you?” Fenn said.
“It was nice to be a star,” Tom admitted. “Now I understand why you love the stage.”
They had caught the afternoon train, which was a quiet ride with few passengers.
“Love,” Tom said.
“Yes?”
“You have to go back on stage.”
“I will.”
“I mean it. I know you like the radio job, and God knows I love you having it, being near to me. But I need to see you on the stage again.”
“I was thinking about taking a Masters. Then I’d definitely be around.”
Tom shook his head.
“It can’t just be about being here for me. If you want to take a Masters, fine. But you need to be acting.”
It was just like that.
“I’ll do it,” Fenn said.
Tom said: “I insist.”

There was something wonderful about seeing the light in the apartment when the cab brought them to the large brick building. There was something wonderful about the house smelling like life, like cooking and cigarettes and potpourri, and when they entered, Tara jumped up from the couch and ran to meet them.
“You have to tell me all about it!” she said. “I can’t believe you’re back. I can’t believe you went to Europe, and now you’re back.”
“And you can tell me all about what’s happened in Rossford,” Fenn replied, holding his friend as Tom shook out his great coat and went to hang it in the hall closet.
“You say it like nothing did happen while you were gone,” Tara said in an injured tone.
“Well…” Fenn shrugged.
“Which shows what you know,” Tara added.
“I love this place,” Tom began, “But… what possibly could have happened while we were gone?”
“Well, for one, Nell split up with her husband.”
“What?” Tom and Fenn said together.
“I mean, he was a prick,” Tom went on. “Like that crack he made about us being sodomites—”
“That I stabbed in the hand for.”
“Yes, well played, brother,” Tom said.
“Well,” Tara said, “do you want to know WHY they split up?”
“Sure,” Tom said, smiling brightly at the downfall of his enemy.
“Because,” Tara said, taking Fenn’s hand with a sober expression, but obviously loving being the bearer of sick news, “Nell found him in bed with Todd.”
“Ugh!” Fenn pulled his hand away.
He heard Tom mutter, “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”


Adele was at the Meradan house so Fenn and Tara went there. Tom stayed home.
Mrs. Meradan answered the door, and though there was a real enough smile on her face, the marks of trouble were upon her as well.
“Did you enjoy Europe?”
“I can’t complain,” Fenn told her. “It was Europe.”
“Right, Right,” Mrs. Meradan nodded, distractedly. “Come in. Nell and Adele are in the kitchen.”
Layla and Dena were also in the kitchen, sitting on the floor gabbling to each other, and when Fenn and Tara entered, Adele rose and ran to her brother.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Sis, it’s only been two weeks!” Fenn said, but he hoisted his sister up and then sat her down with a grunt.
“Damn, girl, you got a big ole ass.”
Adele swatted him.
“Well, I’m done missing you now.”
Fenn, pinched his sister and then kissed Nell on the cheek and was going to sit down when Layla shrieked and, full of gabbles and googles, ran to her uncle who hoisted her upon his lap.
“How is my Layla?”
“Uncle!” she stated profoundly, and gave him a wet kiss.
He looked at Adele while his little niece, with her hair full of braids, looked up at him.
“She’s learning all sorts of words,” Adele informed him.
“Fenn!” Layla said. She swatted him with her bear, and then said, “Tar!”
Fenn followed his niece’s direction and hoisted her up into his arms.
“Oh, that is Tar,” he said, grinning at Tara.
At this, Dena stood up and shrieked with pleasure, running to Layla and pulling at her chubby leg.
“I got you, Baby,” Nell picked her daughter up so that the two girls were now elevated and staring about the room.
Going to the refrigerator, Tara pulled out a beer, sat down and said, “Before you ask, I told Fenn about everything.”
Nell frowned and Fenn said, “I’m truly sorry.”
“So am I,” Nell told him. “I just wish you had let me tell him,” she said to Tara.
“Do you?” Tara said doubtfully. She was in a baseball cap with a ponytail, looking most lesbianical. “Do you really wish you had to tell that story all over again?”
“Point taken,” Nell assented.
“I should have known!” she continued, setting Dena squarely on her lap. “I should have known something was wrong with him.”
“I knew.”
“Fenn,” his sister reprimanded.
“Well, I did,” he said. “I just didn’t know that he was that wrong.”
“I still can’t believe what I saw.”
“How’s Todd?” Fenn asked.
“I don’t want to talk to him,” Nell said, frankly. She leaned in and whispered, “I can hardly look at him.”
“Nell, that’s harsh,” Tara said.
“Well, you know what, Tara Veems? When you walk in on your brother in bed with your spouse then come back and tell me about it.”
“When I walk in on my brother and my spouse,” Tara said, “there’s going to be a lot of explaining to do by all parties.”
Nell ignored this and continued, “Besides, I can hardly talk to him. He’s become so weird lately.”
“Yeah,” Fenn said, getting up and handing Layla to his sister, “probably because your husband’s been fucking him and he’s still a kid. Jesus Christ, Nell. Where is he?”
“In the library.”
“Jesus Christ,” Fenn repeated, and turned to leave the kitchen.
The TV was on in the somewhat misnamed library, and the gawky sixteen year old was sitting on the floor watching it. Fenn came and sat beside him. Neither one of them spoke a while.
“Did you see the Eiffel Tower?” Todd said, at last.
“I wasn’t in France.”
“Well, that sucks,” Todd said.
After a while the boy said, “So I guess you know?”
“Yes,” Fenn said. “I hardly got back into town without knowing.”
“Tara has a big mouth.”
“She does,” Fenn agreed. “But I would have found out anyway.”
“Nell hates me,” Todd said, picking at the sole of his sneaker. “Mom wants to send me to an asylum.”
“Do you feel crazy?”
Todd grinned and looked sideways at Fenn.
“Yeah. A little, actually.”
“Do you want to talk about it? About Kevin?”
Todd was still smiling. Slowly he stopped smiling and said, “No. Not really.”
Fenn felt around in his breast pocket and pulled out a crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
“You want a cigarette?”
Todd held out his hand and Fenn gave him one.
“Straight from Europe,” Fenn said, while he handed Todd the lighter, and the boy lit his cigarette, took a drag, and then handed the lighter back to Fenn. “Funny because I’m sure the tobacco was grown in Kentucky. Export. Import. Export.”
Fenn took a large drag and blew smoke out of his nose.
“You’re the only grown up who would give me cigarettes instead of analyzing me.”
Fenn shrugged.
Todd turned and said, “Kevin is a tremendous asshole. I hate him.”
“But I liked it. At first I didn’t. I felt… I didn’t like it, but I started to. I hated him, but I liked what he was going to me.”
Todd shook his head and frowned. The boy looked a little angry.
“I still like it, Fenn.”
Fenn still said nothing. He just listened.
“But I would never want to date him,” Todd continued. “He’s evil, but part of me feels like… I don’t know if I can stay away from him.
“But…” Todd said, finishing the cigarette, “if I was ever going to be with an older man—with a grown up—it would be you.”




MORE ON SATURDAY NIGHT

 

[CharmedFan28]

Sounds like Tom and Fenn had a good trip. It is very interesting to see a younger Todd, especially what he said to Fenn at the end of the portion. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days!

 

[ChrisGibson]

The young Todd scenes are always interesting. I think I know what you mean. And there's plenty more young Todd to come tomorrow night. Until then, have a great evening.