The Lovers in Rossford

[ChrisGibson]

SIX
FENN DOES IT

CONTINUED





Julia didn’t look at Bryant, and Chad said, “Can I walk one
of you to class?”
“No,” Bryant said, his voice strange. “I…uh… have to
gather a few things. I’ll see you later, Chad. It’s good to see
you, Chad.”
Chad looked like he was trying to find something to say,
and then he said, “You too, Bryant,” and turned around.
When his footsteps had faded down the hall, Bryant said,
“That’s why you were quizzing me?”
“You didn’t know he was married?”
Bryant shook his head.
“It seems like I don’t know much of anything.”


Todd and Will were sawing in the plastic covered area off the
theatre lobby that would be the poetry room, when he saw
Bryant Babcock swing into a parking space and jump out of his
car.
“He gets nuttier as the years go by,” Will commented,
pushing his hair out of his face.
Todd nodded and indicated for Will to halt.
Bryant was coming into the theatre as Todd was coming
toward him, and from beyond the doors into the main
auditorium, they could hear a recital.
“Where’s Fenn?”
“In Chicago. With Dylan.”
“School’s not out today, is it?’
“It is for Dylan. He’s having an issue.”
“Is Dylan all right?”
“He’s fine. He’ll be fine. He—” Todd cocked his head.
“What are you here for?”
“To talk. I needed advice. This is—”
He dragged Todd across the empty lobby and said, “This
guy, the guy I’ve been so excited about—”
“Jazz Teacher Ferguson?”
“Right. Well, I was pretty sure he’d been throwing out vibes
at me—”
“Good.”
“No, bad. Cause it turns out he is a very, very married
man.”
“Get the fuck out!”
“I wish I could.”
“You all haven’t…?” Todd made a vague gesture.
“Haven’t what? Oh!” Bryant blinked. “No. We haven’t
done anything. I just thought—I really thought,” he
murmured. “And then you’d think I’d be old enough to know
better.”
“Ah, well,” Todd said, shrugging. He was at a loss for what
else he could say.
“And then to add insult to injury, you’ll never guess who
told me.”
“No, I won’t,” Todd said, not willing to play along.
“Chad. He’s back. He’s back today. I’m his boss. It’s so
odd. I don’t know what to do with him.”
“And you were going to tell all of this to Fenn?”
“And you too. But he’s such a good listener, and he always
knows what to do.”
“Do you not think it’s a little ironic that you want to tell
Fenn how horrible it feels to see the person who betrayed you
after you and Tom were the ones who betrayed him?”
Bryant stopped and frowned.
“I was about to brush that off and say it was so long ago,”
Bryant explained. “But you’ve got a good point. I should
probably never talk to Fenn about this.”
“Agreed. Cause he’s mine, Bri. And I protect him. I’m the
gatekeeper. And he’s got a lot to deal with right now.”
“Is it about Dylan?”
“Mostly, yes.”
“Well, can I help?”
“It’s highly doubtful.”
Bryant blew out his cheeks. Will was approaching them, his
hair covered in saw dust.
“Well, do you guys wanna get lunch?”
Todd protested: “We’re trying to get things done—”
“Everything’s always better with lunch,” Bryant cajoled.
“Agreed,” said Will.
“It’s agreed if you’re paying,” Todd told Bryant.
“Well, if you’re going to be that way, then yes, I’m paying.”
“And then we gotta get back to finishing this up because if
it’s not done, Will…” Todd said, as he headed toward the
door.
Will nodded.
“Layla will kill us all.”



When Claire reached the house, her brother said, “Where’s the
kid?” And then he added, “Where’s the husband?”
“Julian and Riley went across the street to see Layla.”
“She’s having a poetry reading.”
“Yes, she is,” Claire said, closing the door behind her. “If
you know it, I know it. And speaking of kids, where are
yours?”
“With Kirk. I’ve got the house to myself. It never
happens.”
“You’re never home,” Claire said from the kitchen.
“The fridge would be the first thing you’d find!”
“Are you trying to call me fat?” she asked. But Claire took
out the juice, opened the carton, and tipped it to her mouth.
“No!” Paul said, “And,” taking the carton from her, “have
you ever heard of a glass?”
“Yes, those are the things you use when you don’t want
people to see you drink out of the carton. And by the way, I
have gotten bigger, so you don’t have to pretend.”
“Not much bigger.”
“My ass is huge. It’s childbirth.”
“And cheeseburgers.”
Claire slapped her brother’s wrist. “I thought you said I
wasn’t any bigger.”
“Well, the moment you shattered that illusion was the
moment I could walk away from it too.”
“Honestly,” Claire sat in the chair and tied her hair up,
“Layla’s figuring out what she’s going to do with her book.
Dena’s figuring out what she’s going to do with Rob—and I
think she might be pregnant again—and I’m trying to figure
out what I’m going to do with my fat ass.”
“Yeah,” Paul said, unsympathetically. “It’s a good thing you
married a Black guy.”
Finishing the braid, Claire said, “I don’t know if I should
slap you or if I should slap you for that. While I make up my
mind between option A and option B, why don’t you tell me
why we don’t see each other anymore.”
“Because I’m in Chicago all the time. Cause I have work,
thank God.”
“Well, I object to the whole damn thing, and what time are
we supposed to be at Shelley and Matty’s?”
“I think six, and is Bryant going to be there?”
“Probably,” Claire shrugged. “The real question is, will
Chad be there?”
“Chad who?”
“Chad North.”
Paul frowned.
“Didn’t you know?” Claire was delighted by her gossip.
“No,” Paul said, impatient.
“Chad is back. Before Bryant got the new job as Dean, the
department hired Chad. So now he and Bryant are working in
the same department and I say… Good!”
“Part of you is very, very vicious.”
“It’s the part you love.”
“I love all of you, Claire.”
“Thanks, brother—”
“Even your fat ass.”
While Claire’s eyes flew open, and she opened her mouth
for a comeback, Paul lifted a finger and looked toward the
door.
“Noah,” he said.
“I’ll open the door,” Claire stood up to do so, and Noah
walked right into the house.
“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Noah said, wide eyed.
“You sound panicked as hell,” Claire told him. “And I’ve
seen you right after someone’s shoved a gun in your mouth.”
“I just lost a student,” Noah said.
Claire and Paul looked at him for further explanation, and
Noah said, “Steven. Steven’s mother said I couldn’t tutor him
anymore.”
“That dumb kid—?” Claire started, but Paul said, “What
for?”
“Whaddo you think?” Noah demanded. “It’s been like
what? Twelve years? She found some old movie I did. Or
Steven found it. Or she heard about it. I don’t really know
which.”
“You don’t know?” This was Claire.
“No, I wasn’t concentrating on the specifics,” Noah said.
“But Mrs. Rouse said, and I quote, ‘I have no problem with a
homosexual liftestyle—’”
“Well, that’s fucking gracious of her—”
“‘But I can’t have my son taught by someone who has
made those type of movies.’”
“And you put your real name to everything,” Paul
remembered.
“Yeah!” Noah’s voice was a little high. “Noah Riley has
always been Noah Riley. There’s no Johnny Mellow for me to
hide behind.”
Claire shook her head and tried to find something sane and
reasonable to say.
“This could mean nothing. This could be one woman’s
overreaction.”
“Or it could mean the beginning of people finding out all
sorts of things I don’t need them to know or remember.”
“Or,” Claire rejoined in an even voice, “it could be nothing.
Let’s push for nothing. Let’s go to dinner at my future sister-in-
law’s, laugh at Bryant Babcock’s misfortunes, and push for
nothing.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great continuation! Lots going on and I am excited to read whatever happens next. Seems like Bryant isn't having a good time at the moment. I hope he and Chad can sort out what happened in the past and work together. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon! Have a great week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Do you remember back when Chad was a student and Bryant was a reformed asshole and they were falling in love,and now, all these years later this is the place they're at? Lots of relationships are changing and some are falling apart, which is the way life is. Of course, Bryant and Chad haven't seen each other since the last book, five whole years, so we'll see what happens next. I wish I'd gotten to some Dylan and Fenn tonight, but that would have been too much of a portion.

 

[ChrisGibson]

FENN DOES IT

CONTINUED


“I love coming here,” Fenn said as he preceded Dylan down
the semi darkness of the train platform, surrounded by the
other travelers.
“Should we get our ticket now, or later?” Dylan said,
pointing to the ticket machines.
“Later. You have to use them the day of, and we don’t
really know when we’re going back.”
“We don’t?”
“Oh, Dylan, you’ve got shit to work out. Kenny’s got shit
to work out, and I know Bren does.”
They made their way through the benches in the
underground terminal, and then pushed into the light of the
concourse with all of its shops and the up and down pathways
that led through Millennium Station to the Metra trains and on
the way out onto Randolph Street.
“Chicago is the perfect retreat,” Fenn insisted.
“Did you grow up here?”
“No. We lived in Evanston up north,” Fenn said. “We can
go, if you’d like.
“Of course, no one really comes from here. This is
downtown. Half of these stylish people walking around come
from Hegewisch, Hammond and Miller. Maybe Oak Park.
Definitely not the northern suburbs. Quit gawking or you’ll fall
over yourself.”
Dylan didn’t talk while they went up the steps to Randolph,
and stepping into the mix of pigeons and people, Fenn
commented, “It smells a little bit like piss, and a lot like home.”
As Dylan stepped up beside Fenn and they went down
Randolph, he was captivated by the sheer energy, all the bikers
whizzing up and down the street, the walkers who paid no
attention to the lights, the high buildings reaching up and up.
Even the filth entranced. And there was a delicious chill in the
air. Overhead he could hear a voice booming, “Randolph and
Wabash, doors closing.” And then the bell, the rattle and the
thunder of the L train.
“Are we catching that?”
Fenn looked up. “We’re catching what they now call a Red
Line. That’s underground. We’re going to walk to State for
that. There’s a bookstore on the way. Do you want to go?”
“I’m good on books,” Dylan said.
“When we were a little older than you, but a lot younger
than I am now, me and Adele would catch the train and come
back here for the day. The train was a lot cheaper then. It was
just what we needed to sort of remember there was more to
our life than Rossford.”
“You just hopped trains?”
“Well, it was hardly hopping trains. The South Shore isn’t
dangerous, and Chicago isn’t that far.”
“But I never come.”
“That’s my fault. I should bring you.”173
“No, I mean,” Dylan said, skipping past a homeless man
covered in coats and jiggling a Styrofoam cup. “I never even
thought of it.”
He reached into his pockets and put a few coins in the
man’s cup.
“God bless you.”
Dylan nodded.
“Well, you can think of it now.”
“Everyone says I’m your son—”
“Well, that’s because you are—”
“But I’ll never be like you. I can’t think of neat things to
do.”
It came, then, to Dylan that he had done things he would
never tell Fenn. His risks were all sexual, and all dangerous, but
out of the dark he was tame, and he was afraid.
“You went to California last year.”
There was that. And he remembered that night at the house
when he and Ruthven’s friends had done what they did in the
dark. Thinking of being in that bathroom with Robb, his thighs
open while Robb took him in and his body trembling while he
came in Robb’s mouth often filled him with a sort of pride and
a shivering lust. Now it made him feel stupid, and he wanted to
block it out.
“Yes,” Dylan agreed as they turned north on State Street.
“But it was a one time thing.”
Fenn, not knowing where to go with this, and having
passed the Borders bookstore, the shiny Red Line exit, and
three canvassers in front of the Macy’s, took Dylan by the
shoulder, and guided him down into the subway.
“I think you put far too much on yourself, my son. So take
it off. It’s time to go see Brendan and Kenneth.”
Kenneth McGrath was walking toward home, thinking of how,
though a lot of these blocks all looked the same, they looked
the same in a beautiful way. He passed the CVS looking at the
high price of cigarettes, glad he’d given them up. Rows and
rows of sedate three and two story brick apartment buildings,
some that stood out with stone or concrete blocks and this
one, that he fantasized about living in with the large windows
trimmed in green, the great porch, the creamy yellow façade. In
the distance the El rattled, and a police siren wailed off of
Rosemont. A single pillar stood before his building, naming it.
RACHEL. What was the whole idea of that brick pillar with
the letters descending that called this place home? He shifted
the messenger bag on his shoulder, and coming down the little
walk between Rachel and the building next door, jiggled his key
to enter, checked his mailbox, and then lost his breath when he
was about to head up the steps.
Dylan Mesda was sitting there reading a book, and he called
up: “He’s finally here!”
There was the sound of descending feet, and then there was
Fenn Houghton.
“Kenneth,” he said, “I was wondering when you’d get
here.”
“So I’m temping now.”
“It’s better than pimping.”
Kenneth looked at Dylan.
“Cause it rhymes with temping.” Dylan shrugged. “It sort
of just came to mind.”
“You made him like this,” Kenny told Fenn, who was
smoking a cigarette at the open window and replied, “I’d like
to think so.”
“Part of me wants the job to become permanent, and it’s
not because it pays the bills, cause it really doesn’t. I’ve never
felt so fucking useless in my life. But it’s something to do, you
know? And I like seeing the folks at work. And then, you
know, the other part of me does not want it to last because
then I’d have to keep living here.”
“I thought you loved it here,” Dylan said. “This is a kick ass
city.”
Dylan put a hand over his mouth and looked at Fenn.
“Well, it’s too late to clean your mouth out with soap,” his
father said. “Kenneth, where’s coffee? No, I’ll make it.”
Fenn went to the cupboard Kenny had pointed to. It was
filled with boxes and paper plates and shit Fenn couldn’t
identify, and Dylan said, “Well, Chicago is kick ass.”
“And it’s kicking my ass.”
“Is it kicking Brendan’s?” Fenn asked.
“How would I know? I never see him. He was so excited
about this case. He said it was a sexy case and I hope it is,
because we’re not. We are the blandest… most….” he looked
at Dylan and then said, “unintimate couple in the world.”
Fenn yawned and only half covered his mouth.
“This coffee is just the beginning of a losing battle,” he
said, after reaching behind the sugar and pulling it down. “Why
the hell even make it?”
“You can go to sleep in the spare room or on my bed,”
Kenny offered. Fenn’s shoes had already been kicked off on
the floor.
“How long are you guys staying?”
“As long as it takes,” Fenn said, heading to his room. “As
long as it takes.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Kenny murmured to
Dylan as, down the hall, Fenn fell on his face in the spare
bedroom.
Dylan told him: “I’ve given up trying to figure out what it
all means. At least when it comes to Dad.”
“Okay,” Dylan told Kenny while they sat in the window seat in
the kitchen, “I had to get all of this out.”
“Okay?” Kenny nodded, cautiously.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“How old were you and Brendan when you guys started
having sex?”
“Seventeen. Why?” Then Kenny blinked. “Dylan, are you?
Seriously? I mean…”
Dylan waved it away.
“Yes.”
“How long!”
“It really doesn’t matter, Kenny,” Dylan said. “The point is
that Dad walked in on it last night.”
“Fenn Dad or Tom Dad?”
“Fenn.”
“Oh, God! He must be….crushed.”
“Thanks, Kenny.”
“I mean…” Kenny tried to salvage it. “God, Dill, you’re
fifteen years old.”
“Fifteen year olds have sex.”
“Like who?” Kenny waved it off. “That’s not the point.
The point is… God, are you alright?”
“I didn’t get shot in the chest. I just… started having sex.”
Dylan decided it was best to act like this was the first time.
Kenny didn’t mean to do it, but he was starting to make Dylan
feel ashamed. Suddenly Dylan understood why Fenn, who did
nothing on impulse, even when it seemed like it, had said so
little to him.
He doesn’t want to embarrass me.
“I… He found out. I was so terrified. and so mortified. I
mean I was just crying so hard, and he came in and he just told
me to go to bed and not to cry and… I was afraid he would
look at me different or… not love me or something. And he
just told me to get up, get dressed and brought me here. It’s
not like a reward, but… I don’t know why he did it.”
“Have you all talked about it?”
“Yes. On the train. I told him as much as I was
comfortable with.” Then Dylan added, “As I thought he could
take.”
“Is it Lance Bishop?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God,” Kenny said. “I was afraid it would be that
tool, Ruthven.”
Dylan just grinned politely, and wanted to be with his
father.

 

[CharmedFan28]

It was nice to read a Fenn and Dylan centric portion. Both of them and Kenny and Brendan have a lot to work on. That was some excellent writing and I look forward to reading whatever happens next!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Thanks a lot, Matt. Everyone has a lot to work on right now for sure. My favorite parts are actually the Fenn and Dylan business, and I like seeing them all in Chicago.

 

[ChrisGibson]

IN WHICH DYLAN LEARNS A FEW THINGS



“You’re lucky, Dylan.” Kenny said.
“Dad said that we were sort of a mess right now, and the
best way to get better was by going to visit out friends who
were also…” well that didn’t sound right.
“As much of a mess,” Kenny finished. He picked up his
mug of coffee.
“We really are a mess,” Kenny said.
Dylan looked back into the bedroom.
“Why don’t you go see your dad?”
Dylan nodded, climbed off of the window seat and went
back to the spare room.
“I’m not asleep,” Fenn said from the semi darkness of the
bedroom.
Dylan climbed up onto the bed and lay beside him.
“A penny for your thoughts?” his father said.
“Just…”
His father chuckled in the dark. “You have got to do better
than that.”
“Aren’t you mad at me?”
“I’m scared for you. But I’m not mad at you.”
“Disappointed?”
“Dylan, don’t do this.” Dylan felt Fenn’s hand on his head.
“It’s just… you don’t know how bad I felt last night.”
“Probably the opposite of how good you were feeling the
moment before I walked into the room.”
“Dad!”
Fenn sat up.
“Do you know for the better part of fifteen years, all I’ve
done is think about how to raise you? What I wanted for you?
I’ve spent so much time taking breaths so that the breath that
came out had the right words for you. Not something stupid,
not something that would tear you apart or make you have to
sit on someone’s couch.
“I was nearly forty when you came to me. A surprise gift.
You’re the only son I have, and the only one I’m ever likely to.
And you are so smart, and talented and beautiful. This
morning on the train you were asleep beside me, and I looked
at you and I thought, he is big as me, perhaps bigger. He is a
man. He’s been a man. No wonder….”
“I’m not a man!” Dylan said quickly.
“But you’re not a child,” Fenn told him. “Unless you’re my
child, and you will always be that. But I won’t treat you like
one, and I can’t make you a virgin again even though I really,
really, wish you were.

“Kenny says I broke your heart.”
Fenn took a deep breath and said, tranquilly: “Kenny
should be slapped around a little bit.”
“Did I, though? Cause that’s what I keep thinking. I keep
thinking you’re disappointed in me and I hurt you and—”
“The one thing I will not give you,” Fenn said, “is an
unobstructed view of my heart. Every child in the world
throws his parents a curve. All you need to know is I love you.
You are talented and smart and good looking. Beautiful! But
more than that, you are good. I saw you give that man on the
street your last change. You’re good. You’re so good, and
you’re so kind and you’re so sweet, and you are just the son I’d
want. There isn’t another son.”
Fenn lay down.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“If I’m grown…”
“You’re not totally grown.”
“But just tell me about you and Dad. Tom. Why you aren’t
together? Why are you my Dad and not Lee. Please.”
Fenn took a very long breath and then said, “Yes… It’s
time.”
“And I don’t want to hear a G rated version or a PG.”
Fenn turned over to look at his son, whose eyes were
closed and who was lying on his back like he was waiting for a
bedtime story.
“Good,” he said to Dylan, “because there isn’t one.
“Since you’ve aged me by about ten years in the last twenty
four hours,” Fenn continued, “it’s only fair that I should return
the favor.
“But for the story to make any sense, we have to begin way
at the beginning. We have to go back well before you were
born. I met your father when I was coming out of college, and
he had graduated early and was in graduate school. He is a little
younger than me. To make a long story very short, I came, I
saw, we ended up together.”
“I still can’t imagine it.”
“Well, it was a long time ago. I was in my twenties then and
now I’m in my fifties. But we were together for ten years, or
nearly that.”

“And then what happened?” Dylan sat up. “What
happened that you never tell me about.”
“Tommy cheated on me. It’s as bald as that. If I soft soap
it, you will never understand the rest of the story.”
“Dad cheated on you!”
“Yes,” Fenn said prosaicly. “It’s a well known story, just
one that’s been preserved from your ears. But you were bound
to find out eventually. It’s one of the reasons that Adele never
cared for your father.”
“That’s right,” Dylan realized.
“Who was it?”
“Who was what?” Fenn said.
“Who did Dad cheat on you with?”
“It hardly matters.”
“Do I know him?”
Fenn thought on this, and then said, “Yes.”
“Well, then it matters.”
“Dylan—”
“Dad,” Dylan sat up, “if you don’t tell me, I’ll ask Dad
myself.”
“Well then it was Bryant Babcock.”
“Uncle Bryant?”
“If you must call him that.”
Dylan thought on this, and said, “It explains so much. Aunt
Adele never really liked him either. And I remember when
Chad and him split up, how Layla said something about it
serving him right.”
“She was wrong for that,” Fenn said.
“But… I knew there was something,” Dylan reflected. “I
just… never asked.”
“Childhood instinct,” Fenn shrugged. “Grown ups are like
rocks. If you turn us over there are bugs, and you don’t need to
see that.”
“But now I’ve got a few bugs too.”
“Yes, and so that’s why now I’m sharing this with you.”
“Didn’t it hurt? I mean it must have hurt.”

“Yes,” Fenn admitted. “The house, my house, was the one
that Tom and I bought together. He found it and betrayed me
in it. I’m past it now, but it took some time.”
“You never thought of going back? Or he never thought of
it?”
“Later he thought about it many times, I believe. But I
wouldn’t go back. And during the time when the mess
happened, I think that Tom wasn’t thinking of very much at
all. He was so inexperienced, and so sheltered when I met him.
When he found Bryant, he was so caught up in the excitement
I think he just told himself that everything would be alright. I
wasn’t ever supposed to find out. I walked in on the whole
business.”
“Like you walked in on me,” Dylan said, his voice crashing.
“But I wasn’t fifty then, and the way that made me feel is
wholly different. I had to put myself back together quickly. My
relationship with your father was getting old, and when I found
out what Tom did, it burnt the last of my desire to make it
work. I had to be alone. And then I met Todd.”
“What was that like?”
“Well, I didn’t really meet Todd, I’d always known Todd,
and if you must know it was much like what you have with
Lance. I didn’t know if I was deeply in love or not, and really,
after Tom I didn’t want to be. And of course I remembered
your godfather as a baby. He’d been around my whole life, so I
was nervous about starting anything. The truth, because you
are at that place where I can only tell you the truth now, is that
it began as an intense affair. And then we became serious, and
then he went off to Germany as a soldier, and we decided to
be free while he was gone and, when he got back, come back
together.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t want another Tom. I didn’t want to make
someone who was younger than me commit to a life of
celibacy where he wouldn’t see me for two years. And I didn’t
want that for myself either. So we made the rule to be free
while we were apart. Incidentally, that is not something I
would allow now.”
Dylan grinned.
“You would shoot Todd first.”
“Yes,” Fenn reflected. “I think I would. Ah, love.

“Well, anyway, while Todd was gone, your father came
back into the picture. You know, or maybe you don’t, how
handsome your father is, and maybe you realize that in a way
he and Todd are a little alike anyway.”
“Todd’s tall, Dad isn’t. But they’re both dark.”
Fenn nodded. “Anyway, Tom and I weren’t finished and
we started up again.”
“So you were still in love with him!”
“But cautious. I was determined that we would not be a
couple again, that I wouldn’t trust him. And then I did what is
the point of this whole story.”
“Alright?”
“One day I met this woman, dark haired, clear skinned,
pretty enough, fallen out of a bad relationship. She had
miscarried. She said she’d never loved her father—who was
involved in risky business near Port Ridge—and wanted a child
who loved her. She said sperm banks did not have what she
wanted, and she was desperate. And I was desperate for money
and I wanted my revenge on Tom.”
Fenn was very silent for a moment. He was thinking, and
then he said:
“Alright, I’ll tell it quickly. You don’t need to picture it, but
when Tom would finish up, I would take his semen and freeze
it. Not in the fridge, but in a real freezer. I sold it to her. I
didn’t think it would keep. Eventually she used it, and then one
day there was you.”
Dylan said absolutely nothing. Fenn realized it was a lot to
process. Well, there, let him process it! Didn’t he and his father
give Fenn tons to process?
“How…” Dylan began, “did you…?”
“Dylan, you know how it goes. I know you know how it
goes. You can hold a man when he’s coming and take his stuff.
He can let go in a condom, or in your hand, or you can guide
him into a vial. Or something.”
“That’s… pretty twisted.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“I can’t say I blame you, but… It’s sort of like… a crime of
passion. Or at least a misdemeanor.”
Then Dylan said, “I need to think about this.”
At last he said, “So what you’re telling me, is that the only
reason I exist at all is because you met my mother and showed
her a picture of Dad, and then while the two of you were
having sex, you stole his semen and sold it to her?”
“Yes.”
“Shit!” Dylan swore, putting his hand to his chest.
“And then one Christmas Eve she came to the door with
you, asking for Tom. And that night Tom and Lee came to the
house and Tom was so in love with you. When I put two and
two together and realized what you were, who you were, I told
Tom.”
“Was he mad?”
“Mad, shocked, relieved, all of it. And then he turned
around and asked me to be your father.”
“Well, because you are,” Dylan said.
Awkwardly, Dylan explained: “I mean Lance: the whole
reason he exists is because his mom tried to trap his dad into
marrying her. And Laurel: she was a complete mistake. I always
thought that I was just this sort of pristine, well intentioned
thing and that Dad, out of the kindness in his heart, for a
reason that really made no sense, asked you to be my father.
But…”
Dylan turned around. He seemed to be studying Fenn, “It
turns out that I wouldn’t exist at all if you hadn’t done what
you did, and if you hadn’t done it out of passion. I mean, if you
and Tom weren’t having sex, if he hadn’t been having an
orgasm with you, then I wouldn’t be here. If you hadn’t given
that semen away I… would not… exist. That means you really
are my father, and my mother. You knew about me before
Tom did. You really, really, made me.”
“You sound happy about that,” Fenn said, dubious.
“I’m shocked by it,” Dylan admitted. “And a little grossed
out. Totally amazed too. I don’t know that happy is the right
word, but… it’s the closest I can find.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a nice portion! It was good to read Fenn and Dylan having such an honest conversation about the past. Dylan knows more now and I think that is a good thing. I hope him and Fenn can continue to be more like this in the future but who knows. Great writing and I look forward to more soon! I hope you are having a great week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

i haven't read this in a while until tonight, and rereading it I came away thinking that what happens here is Fenn's punishment. If Dylan wants to be a man he has to listen to grown up truths, and if Dylan is going to sort of rock Fenn's world, then, now that Dylan has asked for the truth, Fenn is going to rock his world. But Fenn has set out to be a devoted father, and now we know that, in his way, Dylan has set out to be a devoted son.

 

[ChrisGibson]

CHAPTER SIX

FENN DOES IT

CONTINUED


“But if this gets around it could be my job,” Noah said while
James drove.
“Nothing’s gotten around, though.”
“How did Steven find it?” Chay leaned forward as they
headed toward Shelley and Matt’s.
“They found it because it’s always there,” Noah told him.
“It’s the Internet, and nothing goes away.”
“Well, yeah, but…” Chay sat back.
“Illumine us, Chay,” James said.
Out of patience, Noah said, “It doesn’t matter if he
illumines us or not. I don’t need to know theories about why
it’s out there, or how Steven found it. All that matters is it is
out there, and if he can find one thing I did… Well, hell, think
of the other things.”
Noah sat in his side of the car dejected, back pressed into
the seat, his palm pressed to his forehead. His mouth was open
in disgust and it was a while before he spoke.
“Chay, I am so sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not being the father I’m supposed to be.’
“Oh, Noah, hold on,” James started.
“And probably for not being the partner I should be,”
Noah added.
“I was a selfish kid. I did so much that I didn’t know would
come back on me, or come back on us.”
“And none of it ever has,” James said.
“When Chay started working for Casey—”
“Oh, Dad, let’s not go there.”
“We will go there,” Noah sat up. “When you started
working for Casey… you would never have done that if I
hadn’t done what I had done.”
“Well, nothing bad came of it.”
Noah, who could still remember that Chay had been
Casey’s lover, and could never forgive Casey for this, only said,
“We disagree there, Chaylan.”
“Yeah,” Chay muttered. “I guess so. But it was my life and
I don’t regret what happened with Casey.”
Then he added, “And neither should you. You shouldn’t
regret the way things went.”
Noah didn’t say anything. He and Chay looked a lot alike,
James thought, and they were close in age, more like brothers
arguing.
“And there are a lot of kids in a lot of trouble,” Chay went
on, “raised by older parents and maybe wiser ones, and they
didn’t turn out as all right as I did, so….” Chay couldn’t think
of anything else to say. He sat back in the car.
“Now I’m finished. Only…”
“Only what,” James kept one eye on the road and one on
the rearview mirror for his son.
“I still think there’s no natural reason Steven should have
found anything you did in the past, Dad.”
“I agree,” James said.
“And I think you need to keep both eyes on the road,”
Noah said. “Look, there’s the intersection. We’re almost at
Shelley’s.”
“Will Paul and Kirk be there?”
“I hope so,” Noah said.
“Maybe they’ll have some idea about who’s behind this.”
“No one’s behind it,” Noah said. “It just happened.”
Chay, looking as little and sullen in the back seat as his
father looked in the front, shook his head.
“Uh huh,” he disagreed. “I don’t believe it.”



“IS THIS THE SKINNY little brother who hardly made the
baseball team for the East Carmel Hornets?” Paul wondered
aloud as he entered the house that evening with Kirk beside
him and the kids following.
Matty Anderson was the biggest of the Anderson siblings.
The bulk had come after high school all through the first two
years of college, and his embrace with Paul turned into an
impromptu wrestling match.
“Gentlemen, Gentlemen!” Shelley cried, moving round
them, her black dress accentuating her round belly.
“Is that my nephew in there?” Paul said
“No, it’s your nephew here!” Riley said.
“Riley,” Paul said, to Claire’s son, “there’s a new nephew
right now, happening in your Aunt Shelley’s belly.”
“He’s going to be your nephew too?” Riley screwed up his
face at the belly.
“And your cousin,” Shelley told the boy.
Riley turned around and asked Julian, “Dad, how’s that
work?”
“You have to explain family trees to the boy,” Claire said to
her husband, as she touched Riley’s red-brown curls.
From the basement a voice shouted, “Shelley, I went
downstairs and brought this bottle up. But here’s some cider
for you because—”
Bryant Babcock, on his way from the basement stopped
talking when he saw the Anderson siblings, then said, “Claire,
Paul. Hi, everyone.”
“I guess I’m everyone,” Julian murmured as Riley said,
“I guess I’m everyone,” Julian murmured as Riley said,
“Can I be everyone too?”
“Bryant,” Paul greeted him. “How have you been?”
Kirk stepped forward, to shake his hand, and with the other
he shooed away Bennett, Elias and Matthew telling them, “Go
help set the plates.”
“Setting plates is for girls,” Bennett said.
Claire raised an eyebrow and Bennett swallowed.
“I’ll go put those dishes out,” he said to his aunt.
“Good for you,” Claire released her nephew from her gaze.
“So,” Shelley said, linking arms with Paul and Bryant, and
marching into the living room, “I want to know everything
that’s going on.”
“Nothing going on at this end sister-in-law,” Paul said.
“Elias got accepted to Wallmer,” Kirk reminded him.
“That bougie school?” Julian said.
“It’s a good school,” Kirk protested.
“That’s what he just said,” Claire said.
While Kirk opened his mouth again, Paul said, “There’s no
way Elias is going to go if Ben can’t too. It’s not right.”
“I think every child should have every advantage,” Kirk
argued.
“I think it’s just a glorified junior high so don’t sweat it,”
Julian told him.
“Amen!” his wife agreed.
“As long as you don’t send him to Rossford High,” Julian
added.
“What’s wrong with Rossford?” Paul looked at him.
“Rossford High is bullshit,” Shelley said, releasing her arms
as they came around the table. “Everything I’ve heard says
Edmonton Academy is the place.”
“If we can afford it,” Paul said.
“Let’s not talk about money now,” Kirk said. “It’s so…”
“Gauche?” said Bryant.
“Depressing,” said Kirk. “And what about you, Bryant?”
“Well,” Bryant said, sitting down, “I’m finally settled back,
and… I’ve started my new position at Loretto.”
“You’re back there?” Paul said.
“Yes, finally Dean of the Music Department.”
Bryant wondered if he sounded pretentious.
“Oh,” Claire said, sitting down beside her husband.
“That,” Matt said, “is the flattest O my big sister has ever
uttered.”
“I bet it isn’t,” Claire said, dismissively. “Only… how’s that
going to work?”
“Whaddo you mean?” Bryant said brightly.
She looked at him, trying to divine if he was attempting to
fool her or not.
“I meant with Chad North working there again, how’s that
going to work?”



IN THE MORNING THERE was a soft tap on Bryant
Babcock’s door, and then it was pushed gently open by Chad.
Bryant didn’t dare look at him closely. He couldn’t. It was
amazing how few people needed to actually be looked in the
eye. One could go through life perfectly well without ever
having to really see people.
“Hi, Bryant.”
“Chad.”
“I just wanted to say… It seems that what I told you came
as a shock to you. About Ferguson.”
“Oh.”
“Well, I mean, there have been rumors about him. Taking
up with other men. I was wondering if he had tried to pull you
in.”
“Like you pulled me in?”
Chad made a noise in his throat, but aside from that said
nothing.
“Chad, I am an adult and perfectly capable of looking after
myself, and making sure I don’t ever get pulled in by anyone.”
“Yes, Bryant. I know that. I was just checking.”
“Thank you.”
Chad nodded.
“I guess I’ll go now.”
“Very well.”
Chad turned to leave, and then, one foot out of the door,
he turned around and said, “We spent ten years together.”
“And we’ve spent five apart.”
“We parted on horrible terms.”
Bryant, who had seemed so calm, took a deep breath, and
Chad could suddenly tell that he was exerting a massive act of
the will.
“We parted when I found out you were sleeping with my
brother.”
“And you never did anything wrong?” Chad said.
“My… wrongdoing or… lack of it, especially with other
people, does not give you the right to—” Bryant stopped
himself. He moved a hand across some imaginary boundary
line and said:
“We can be civil. I’m trying to be civil.”
“I’m trying to be friends.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen, Chad. I am your boss.
Again. I am not your equal. I am not craving your friendship,
or even an explanation for why you did what you did—”
“Five years ago, Bryant.”
“And then did you and Sean try to start a life together?”
Chad turned his head, taking a deep breath.
“Or is that just my imagination? Because I remember you
all trying to start a life together.”
“I give up.”
“Of course you do.”
Chad didn’t respond to that, except by nodding.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe later. Maybe when you’re
ready. It’s been five years. I thought you’d be ready.”

Chad North was in his office, packing his briefcase and getting
ready to leave when he heard Bryant say, behind him, “It has
not been five years.”
“What?” Chad began.
“It has been today. The first time you’ve come to me, and
the first time you said anything like you were sorry. Five years
ago—”
Bryant remembered where he was and closed the door
behind him.
“Five years ago you were fucking Sean, and then I was
throwing you out, and then you and Sean were busy starting
something, and making it more than clear that I was much too
old to make you happy. And then you left town. But, you
know what, Chad? There wasn’t a single moment in any of that
where you ever said sorry. Not until today. So, it has not been
five years. It is fresh in my mind. And I know, I know, I know,
that I hurt someone the same way once, so maybe I don’t even
have a right to feel the way that I do, to be as angry as I am.
But I am angry, and you know I didn’t hire you, and you
should know it’s going to take a long while to get past this. I
am not ready and I do not forgive you. Not yet.”
Chad readjusted his glasses and he nodded.
“Do you think you could ever be ready?”
“Why Chad? What for?” Bryant said, exasperated.
“So we could be friends. Again.”
“And again, Chad,” Bryant said. “What for?”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Poor Noah! I hope he does not loose his job over his past. It seems like the relationship or lack of one between Chad and Bryant will be difficult but I expected that. I do sort of hope that they could be friends again one day but who knows if that is possible. Great writing and I look forward to more soon! I hope you are having a nice night and week.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Thank you very much. I am having a wonderful night. noah has turned his whole life around, and now this. I wouldn't have let this happen to him except it actually had happened to lot of people who worked in porn, and it really is bullshit. I know I wrote this, bu I wrote it awhile ago so its sort of new to me and I was struck by Bryant saying it wasn't five years ago, it was today, because Chad never made amends, and I think Chad may have been struck by it too.

 

[ChrisGibson]

CHAPTER SIX

FENN DOES IT:

CONCLUSION





“Did you know Chad was back?” Radha Hatangady said as she
twisted and untwisted the string or shiny prayer beads around
her fingers.
“Yes, I knew,” Layla said. “And did you know that Claire
was going to a dinner tonight at her sister in law’s, and knew
Bryant would be there. So she decided to invite Chad, too.”
“No! That’s a horrible idea.”
“It’s a cruel idea,” Milo said.
“That’s Claire, though,” Dena remarked with a shrug.
“Anyway, I talked her out of that shit and….Why don’t we
invite Chad over?”
“Over to what?” Dena yawned. “We gotta go pick Rob up,
and then there’s parent teacher conference, and I’m sorry, but
what can you have to conference about with over a five year
old?”
Layla did not answer that, but continued: “We’re inviting
Chad over to the dinner party I will plan when Radha goes
back and gets Mark and I go and get some decorations and
food. We have to do something. I have a crazy idea Chad’s
going to try to get Bryant back.”
“I still think Bryant Babcock is too damn old.”
“Yes,” Layla allowed. “And he fucked up my uncle’s life,
but he is the love of Chad’s life, and that’s what Chad wants,
and I feel like I was partially responsible for everything that
happened—”
“How?” Will looked at her.
“By allowing Chad to have a secret affair,” Dena said,
tiredly. “Layla thinks just allowing it makes her responsible.”
“Well, I didn’t not encourage it,” Layla said. “And part of
me thinks maybe it was out of anger over what Bryant had
done to us. At any rate, let’s give Chad a party.”
“I’ll call him,” Radha volunteered, taking out her phone.
“Why don’t you get one of these, Layla?”
“Why would I need to?”
“So we can reach you.”
“You can reach me the fuck right here.”
“Here we go again,” Dena murmured.
“Your commitment to being a Luddite is something I
always appreciated,” Milo told her.
Meanwhile Radha greeted Chad with: “So, how’s my
favorite homosexual?”
“Did she…?” Dena began. “Of course she did.”
“We’re going to Layla’s poetry reading,” Radha was saying,
“having a little party tonight. Over at Layla’s big ass place.
Yeah… Yeah… Well, come at eight. And leave the attitude
behind.”
Layla reached for the phone and Radha handed it to her.
“Ignore her,” Layla said. “Not about the party, but about
your attitude. Bring as much of it as you want.”
“Thanks, Layla,” Chad sounded grateful. “It’s good to hear
you. How’ve you been?”
“Alright.”
“And tell him,” Radha shouted, “not to come over crying
about Bryant, because we’ll get him on top of a younger man
before the night is out!”
“Did she really just say that?” Chad murmured.
“Yes,” Layla admitted. “But you can’t really be that
surprised.”




The knock on the door made Sheridan hope it was either
Mathan or Meredith. So much had been going on, and it was
almost as if his friends’ tragedy had been sidelined by the rest
of life. As long as Meredith had been living here, in Rossford,
they had been friends. And now it seemed like she had gone
off the deep end.
Really, she wasn’t over Robin Netteson, and Sheridan
blamed Robin everyday. He remembered the night when he’d
had sex with her to make her feel better. How strange it had
been, like fucking a sister, like doing something he felt violated
by. He didn’t let his mind stay there. There were so many
unsafe places in his mind where he refused to go.
But it was Logan at the door, and Logan seemed to him
bigger than ever. He had turned away from Logan, and he
thought Logan had turned away from him.
“Can I come in?”
“You told me to get the fuck out.”
“You tried to make me feel ashamed of myself,” Logan
said. “You tried to make me hate myself, because you were
hating yourself.”
Sheridan just opened the door wider and let him come in.
“You got on the net, and you dug up things. You know my
life. You know everything I do. We met when you were
working for Casey. How can you possibly tell me the reason
you don’t want to be with me is because of what I am, and
then try to make me hate myself for what I am?”
“No one’s trying to make you hate yourself.”
“You’re such bullshit, Sheridan,” Logan went on. “Total
bullshit. And what would you rather have me do? Hook on the
streets?”
“You could try normal work.”
Logan blinked at him.
“Oh, really? Oh, don’t even!
“You know what?” Logan said. “I’m tired of apologizing to
the world. You know? For years I have rationalized my work in
my head. I’m always explaining to myself all of these people
who would hate me if they had so much as a fucking clue as to
what I did, and you know what? Fuck it.
“I hate normal work. I would rather do what I do than
work behind a fucking desk all week for what I make in one
film. I’m not ashamed of it, Sheridan! Even when I was a
prostitute… Hell, people whore themselves out everyday! They
sell their bodies for bullshit work. I fuck and get fucked by
really hot guys, and I get to be a hot guy, and why should I
have to explain that to anybody? Everybody would do it if they
could.”
“I wouldn’t.”
Logan cocked his head, narrowed his eyes and looked at
Sheridan. He could have said something withering, and
Sheridan was waiting for him to. Always, in their relationship,
Sheridan’s view of his own body in comparison to Logan’s had
been an issue. Logan was perfect, because he had to be.
Sheridan felt ordinary and insignificant next to him until Logan
would run the back of his hand across his skin and, looking
over him judge: “Perfect.” And then Sheridan would become
perfect.
But Logan only said: “What the fuck do you want from
me?”
“If we’re having sex…”
“And we are.”
“Yes! How can I say that I am having sex, behind Chay’s
back, with someone who essentially is having sex, for a living,
in front of my face. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s my job.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Sheridan repeated.
“What I do with other men is nothing like what I do with
you. We’ve been through this before,” Logan said. “You’ve
worked at the studio. You know the whole thing. What we do
is so different.”
“But it isn’t,” Sheridan’s voice sounded like it was pleading.
“If I… had a ten inch cock, four inches wide, and I wanted
to fuck you…”
“That could not possibly happen, and I don’t know what
you’re talking about.”
“If you were shooting a movie it would happen, and you
would take it, and I would give it to you, and it wouldn’t matter
if it hurt or not, or if I cared if I was hurting you. That makes it
different. You know it does.”
Sheridan moved in a half circle around the bed and sat
down on the edge of it.
“I can’t believe we’re having this discussion,” Logan said.
“I can’t believe we’re still having it after all these years,”
Sheridan told him.
“Did you think I would stop?”
“Yes!” Sheridan said. “Chay’s dad stopped for James! Paul
stopped for Kirk. Or something like that. I thought you would
stop. And how could it ever work with us if you didn’t? Casey
never stopped for anyone. That’s why he’s still alone. It just
can’t work. I though I knew you’d end it one day.”
Logan looked like he was making some decision, getting
ready to say something. He was twisting his hands together.
Finally he sat down and sat, “If I told you that I was going to
stop. If I told you I don’t like to make promises, but I’m doing
modeling so I can eventually get out of porn and escorting
altogether, what then? I mean, I want to do other things. I’ve
been modeling. For gay magazines, so its still raunchy. But I
like it. I like myself, Sheridan. But… I would give up parts of
myself. Would that change things?”
Sheridan looked miserable. His face was red, but he wasn’t
crying. He was shaking his head.
“What do you want?” Logan said. “I’ll get up and leave, I
swear. But just tell me if you want to be with me. Or if you
want to be with Chay? I could be happy if he could be happy
sharing you. But I don’t think he will.”
Sheridan’s head hung and he shook it in agreement.
“So me?” Logan asked. “Or Chay?”
“You,” Sheridan said, miserably. “I love you.”



Danasia Burns stopped talking to her cousin and, following her
father’s lead, looked to where Tom stood talking on the phone
in the kitchen.
“Um hum,” Tom said, looking distracted. “Uh huh…” and
then, “Yeah.”
He hung up the phone and said nothing.
Danasia looked back at her husband, Ron, and her cousin,
Mathan.
“Well?” Lee said.
“It was Fenn. From Chicago. He’s at Brendan and Kenny’s.
I think he told Dylan the truth.”
Danasia raised her eyebrow for more explanation.
“You mean about you and Fenn? How you all split up?
How Dylan was born?”
“He had to know sooner or later,” Tom said. “I just hoped
for later. For never. In all fairness, Fenn doesn’t come off like
a Boy Scout either.”
“He does come off a hell of a lot boy scoutier than you,
though,” Danasia noted.
“Well, yes,” Tom said without rancor. “Yes, he does.”
“I can’t believe he just up and took Dylan,” said Mathan.
“Well, he called first. Early this morning,” Tom told him.
“He would have done it no matter what,” Danasia thought.
“Most likely,” Tom sat down at the table, becoming tired of
Danasia.
“He said he needed to take Dylan away. I wonder if
something happened to him. I think something’s not
completely right with Dill, and Fenn hasn’t told me.”
“Hasn’t or won’t?”
Tom shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I figured I’d ask when it’s
time.”
“It’s always time,” Lee said. “If you want to know. You’re
his father.”
Tom nodded and then, yawning, put his hands in the air.
“Well, alright, let’s talk about something else.”
“Let’s talk,” Ron Lewis said, “about what we were talking
about before.”
“Which is?”
“How,” Danasia said to Mathan, “if this bitch wrote you a
letter and then just left, you need to let her the fuck go.”
“But it’s my Meredith.”
“I don’t know her that well,” Ron said.
“I don’t either,” his wife admitted. “Which is why it’s easier
for me to say let her go.”
“Things have just been strange between us for so long,”
Mathan said, laying his large brown hands on the table. “Maybe
letting her go is best.”
“Letting her go, or getting up and finding her,” Lee said.
“We can do either.”
“I thought finding her was a great idea,” Mathan admitted.
“At first.” He shook his head.
“Now I don’t know how I feel.”

Sheridan wondered briefly, as he shook his head, why knocks
at the door always shocked him. This was the second one
tonight, and as he tried to come back to life and looked at
Logan, asleep beside him, he thought this was so much worse
than if he got caught having sex. Sex could be written off. Sex
happened all the time, and it didn’t necessarily have to mean
half of what people thought it did. This falling asleep together
was intimacy.
Again, the knock at the door.
“What’s that?” Logan began, running his hands over his
face.
“Just look natural.” Sheridan got up and went to the door,
ready for Chay. But he was surprised.
“Meredith?”
She stood there, her hair down her back, looking like the
painting of Ophelia Claire Lawden kept on her wall.
“Sher—” she began, and then looked behind him to see
Logan.
“Uh…”
“Just come in,” Sheridan said.
“I need to talk to you,” Meredith told him, readjusting her
purse and closing the door behind her.
“We both need to talk,” Sheridan said.
“Yes,” Meredith looked at Logan, but did not ask for an
explanation. “I’m starting to see that,”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Looks like Sheridan has made the decision of who he wants to be with. I don't know if he will stay that way but this was an interesting portion none the less. I wonder if Chad really does want Bryant back? I am glad Meredith is back and look forward to her talk with Sheridan. This was a great portion with great writing! I look forward to more in a few days.

 

[ChrisGibson]

It looks like the whole Riley-Lewis household is in for some hard times. Meredith is back, but what will she say? Here at the midpoint all sorts of shit can happen. I would hate for you to think something's going to happen that won't. Sheridan has been struggling with going to Logan and now he has. Before the sun rises in America... The Beasts.

 

[ChrisGibson]

SEVEN

LAYLA DOES IT


Fenn Houghton heard the door open in the darkness of the
night. Beside him Dylan was sleeping and his mouth, turned
away from Fenn, thankfully, was drooling onto the comforter.
He thought of waking Dylan and telling him to put on his
pajamas, but then decided to climb over him and out of the
room first.
In the dark hallway, Brendan Miller was pulling his shoes
off with his feet, and his coat was folded over his arm. Fenn
waited in the dark until Brendan stumbled into him.
“Fenn?” he said after a preliminary shout.
“Who else?”
“Anyone else,” Brendan said. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting, silly.”
“Well… how long have you been here?”
“We came this morning. I guess Kenny is asleep now. So is
Dylan.”
“Dylan’s here? Shouldn’t he be in school?”
“He should be with me,” Fenn said, following Brendan into
the kitchen.
“Well… excellent,” said Brendan opening the refrigerator.
“Are you thirsty?”
“I could drink.”
“How about a Fresca? I love a Fresca. How’s Layla?”
“Her poetry reading is tomorrow night at the theatre.”
“I wish I could be there.”
Fenn popped open the Fresca and it fizzed.
“I wish I could too.”
“Whaddo you mean you wish you could…Oh, God, I’m so
hungry. I should order a pizza!”
“Dylan needs a few days off of his life.”
“Really? What’s wrong?”
“That’s sort of for him to tell. But I need some days off of
my life too. And we really came for Kenny.”
“Good,” Brendan said, studying him as he slurped on the
straw. “He’s lonely.”
“Brendan, that’s the understatement of the year.”
When Brendan said nothing, Fenn added, “Is it always like
this?”
“Me coming in late? Kenny passed out? Us never seeing
each other? Yes.”
“That’s not good,” Fenn sat down, brushing his shirtsleeves
and yawning. He felt distinctly rumpled.
“We should put some coffee on,” Brendan said. “That’s
precisely what I’m about to do. How are Dena and Milo?”
“You’d know if you called.”
“Ouch, that’s not fair. I have Godiva. I have Duncan
Donuts and I have Starbucks.”
“I don’t care.”
“You have to pick one.”
“Godiva.”
“Okay, do you want Mocha Almond, Vanilla Rest or—”
“I want you to put five damn scoops in the pot to make
four cups.”
Brendan sighed and said… “You Rossford people are so
unrefined.”
When Brendan blinked, he looked across the room and saw
Fenn sitting there, looking at him over his cup of coffee.
“That is the second time this day someone has fallen asleep
while talking to me. I’m going to start taking it personally.”
“I’m so sorry.” Brendan realized he was splayed out with a
crook in his neck. He got up, rounded the coffee table and sat
beside Fenn.
“Do you know I even fall asleep during sex?”
“Really?”
“Me and Kenny thought we should be romantic. Or at least
sexual. I fell asleep while he was giving me head.”
“That’s… I can imagine that happening when you’re tired
and…”
“I fell asleep while I was fucking him.”
Fenn blinked.
“Yeah,” Brendan nodded grimly. “You’re supposed to pass
out after, not during. Generally I try not to pass out at all.
What’s happening to me?”
“You’re stretched out. All your time is for work.”
“It is. It’s hard here, Fenn. It’s nice. It’s beautiful. But it’s
hard.”
“There are other places than here.”
“Rossford?”
“Yes, but there’re other places than Rossford too.”
“Kenny’s so miserable,” Fenn said. He did not look at
Brendan while he spoke.
“Only one of you is making it here, and just barely.”
“You want to take him back,” Brendan said.
“He won’t leave you. That’s the way he sees it. But he’s
dying here. Except for that job, and it’s temporary.”
Brendan didn’t look at Fenn.
“I told him that was a good idea. Leaving. I suggested it,”
Brendan said, more to himself than to Fenn.
“I can’t just pick up and leave, and he can’t stay.”
“Do you want to stay here?”
“Am I choosing between Kenny and a city?”
“A little,” Fenn said.
“Then am I cheating on Ken by wanting the city? It’s not
good for me. It really isn’t. But… I’m addicted to it. I’m not
ready to leave.”
Fenn nodded.
“Do you think that’s horrible?”
“You’ve been with Kenny longer than I’ve been raising
Dylan. When I was your age I had broken up with Tom, and I
was single and could do what I wanted.”
“But do you think that’s bad of me?” said Brendan.
“When I was with Tom,” Fenn said, “I wanted to hold him
to me. Because I was very young and a little foolish. I was okay
with him giving up something for me. But when Bryant came
he was all of those things that Tom had given up, and
everything they did together was a little act of rebellion against
me.”
Brendan waited for Fenn to continue.
“Don’t make yourself a martyr. If you leave Chicago now,
part of you will always resent Kenneth.”
“I won’t,” Brendan said, sounding stubborn, a little like a
child.
“You will,” Fenn, who had no child left in him, said.
“Tomorrow, I will take Kenneth back home with me.
Nothing’s permanent. We can see how things work from
there.”



Logan had already said, “I think I should go right now.”
“No,” Meredith told him. “It isn’t necessary. This isn’t that
private. Stay.”
“No,” Logan disagreed. “Everything we needed to sort out
is sorted out.”
He looked at Sheridan. “Isn’t it?”
Sheridan nodded.
“I’ll walk you downstairs,” he said.
Coming down the stairs to the little lobby, they were both
aware that in the lobby they might be seen. It wasn’t for
someone else to know and tell. It wasn’t for Chay to find out
should he happen to walk in. They embraced, holding each
other close and rocking a little bit.
“So it’s all sorted. We’re together now?”
“Yeah,” Sheridan said.
“Good. It wouldn’t have been much point in me coming
back if we weren’t going to be together.”
“You don’t really mean that,” Sheridan said. But Logan
kissed him softly on the cheek and said, “I do.”1
He was wearing an old sweatshirt that smelled of his ginger
cologne, and he lifted the hood up and then, stuffing his hands
in his pockets, went down the steps. Sheridan turned around
and went back up before Logan could turn and look at him,
and he wondered why he did that even as he came back into
the apartment.
“I’m not going back to Mathan,” was the first thing
Meredith said. She was sitting on the sofa that faced the front
door as Sheridan entered, and her hands were clasping her
knees.
“That’s over, it’s all over, and I can’t go back.”
Sheridan was nodding as he came to sit down beside her,
and Meredith turned to him.
“It’s not that it’s bad. Mathan’s a wonderful guy. Isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Yes.”
“But it’s not GREAT. I want it to be great. I don’t want to
wonder what it’s like on the other side.”
“Well, Meredith, you’ve never really been to the other side.”
“I know. My experience is so limited. All I’ve had is
Mathan, and I’m like a ball and chain and he’s like a ball and
chain, and I just… I want to try something new.”
Sheridan began to open his mouth, thought about what he
was going to say, and then said it anyway.
“Something… or someone?”
“Hum?”
“Is there a particular someone?”
“Kip Danley,” Meredith said quickly.
“Kip Danley? Are you serious?”
“I am serious.”
“I know you like him. I know he’s sort of your friend, and
I’ll never understand that. And he raped Robin.”
“No, he didn’t. He was there. He was semi-involved. But he
tried to stop it, and he was good to her.”
“He went to jail because he was one of the guys in the gang
rape. He didn’t walk away. He was one of the guys that Robin
sucked off, and it doesn’t matter that he didn’t fuck her or
didn’t fuck her violently, or that he felt bad about getting
blown by her. He did it and… I just can’t see you falling for
him.”
“He made a mistake, so he doesn’t get to love anyone?”
“He shouldn’t get to love you,” Sheridan said. “Not her
friend. And… not when you’re leaving Mathan. I mean you
put Mathan on one hand and a rapist on the other, and it’s not
hard to see who’s worth more, Mere.”
“Well, you put Chay on one hand and a low budget porn
star on the other, and it isn’t hard to see who’s worth more,
either. So, why did Logan just leave?”
“We better both chill out,” Sheridan decided. He sat down
heavily on the couch and said nothing.
“I think you’re right,” Meredith agreed.
“It’s just… I don’t understand,” Sheridan said.
“I don’t understand either,” Meredith told him. “That’s
why I came to you.”
Sheridan nodded.
“Chay’s my best friend. He means so much to me. But
Logan came back for me, and since he’s been back I’ve just
really wanted him. And I don’t mean for sex. I mean I miss our
relationship. I really miss him. And love him. And he loves
me.”
“Are you leaving Chay?”
“He just moved in. He just moved in because I begged him
to.”
Meredith nodded her head and placed a hand over
Sheridan’s.
“But I am leaving him,” he said, at last.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! I hope Brendan can decide whether he wants to be with Kenny somewhere else or stay in Chicago. Meredith seems to be heading down a bit of a dark path but thats her choice. Chay is going to be very hurt when he hears Sheridan's news. I do like Logan but it would have been simpler if Sheridan had made a clean break with Chay before committing to him. There is lots going on in this story at the moment and I look forward to reading whatever happens next!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I don't remember reading your comment last night? Did I forget? What the hell is going on in my head. I'm sorry about all that, but here goes the next segment of Rossford.

 

[ChrisGibson]

LAYLA DOES IT

CONTINUED




“Are you coming to bed?”
“I am in bed,” Lee, who was sitting up in the dark, legs
folded to his chest, said.
Tom rose up on his side and leaned against Lee.
“You know exactly what I mean?”
“Do you know we’ve been together almost sixteen years?”
“Is that what’s keeping you up late?” Tom kissed him on
the shoulder.
“I can see you’re in the mood.”
“Give me your hand and you can feel it too.”
“You’re so vulgar,” Lee told him. “I have to go check on
Mathan.”
Well, caring for nephews and children was the only thing
that could keep Lee away from sex.
“Fair enough,” Tom said, lying back down. “But you better
hurry up because I haven’t felt like this in—”
“Three days, Tom. You haven’t felt like this in three days.”
Lee got up. “Where’s my housecoat.”
“Hanging from the door, like its been forever.”
Tom was massaging him and bringing Lee’s hand to his
crotch. Lee thought of saying, “Stop that.” But he wouldn’t
have meant it.
“And then,” Tom murmured, leaning forward, “I do a little
of this to you, like that… the way you like.”
“Tom.”
“All right,” Tom moved away and shrugged.
“But hurry up. We need to get the party started.”
Lee did hurry up, because he wanted to get the party started
as well. Tom had become more, not less amorous over the
years. They had been with each other longer than they’d been
with Fenn or Lemonade, the previous partners they shared a
child with. Lee loved to be touched by Tom, loved Tom
coming up behind him and nuzzling his throat, those fingers
over his hands, reaching into his shirt, Tom in the dark
beginning all sorts of things when they should be sleeping. And
Lee always responded. They were like kids together.
He tapped on Mathan’s door, willing his erection to go
down, and then he pushed the door open.
“Are you asleep?”
“Not really,” his nephew said.
Lee sat down on the bed and said to his nephew, “Was it
really that wonderful? Things between you and her?”
“It used to be.”
“But used to be is not is.”
Mathan’s breathing was his only contribution to the
conversation for a while, and then he said, “But I knew that if
we worked on it, it could be better.”
“From what you said it wasn’t bad, it was just dead. You
can’t work on what’s dead. That’s just two people doing what
they don’t need to be doing anymore. Give it some thought,
Mate. And then think about letting it go.”
Mathan turned over in bed.
“I just can’t imagine not being with her.”
“And that’s your problem,” Lee told him. “But just cause
you can’t imagine anything better, or anything different doesn’t
mean both don’t exist. All it means is you lack imagination.”






SHE PUT THE skin cream on and said
“i look much too young for what i am.”
i could tell i was supposed to agree
but now i’m 33 the perfect age for one who has been
thirty two
and don’t you know that nothing keeps
you young like being who you are
and don’t you know that age is like
a wine that will waste nothing
and i love you lines
and you’ll love mine
all of life is embracing
all of it is loving things the way they are
we love to change and never know
love is the only thing that changes
this blood red love i have for you rearranges
every part of me

In the applauding audience, Dena turned to Claire and said,
looking up at Layla. “She’s good you know?”
“And she’s short and to the point,” Claire noted. “That
helps.”
Todd had thought of putting up a podium, but Layla
disagreed and she sat before the group in a chair. It was a large
turn out, but she was over the initial nerves.
“Uh… Who wants another on? Last one?”
“Two more!” someone in the crowd shouted.
Layla laughed and held up a finger.
“One more,” she said.


You do the same thing you’ve done a thousand times
before
and here you are asking the same old questions
and i thought we’d had this conversation in the past
and i knew we handled this
how do you handle me?
and how do i learn to live with you?
how do we stay with each other?
it is wise to forget
and better to forgive
that’s how you live
that’s the loving
that’s all we ever needed
the sealing of cut skin needs it
the rending of sad nations needs it
the second half of God breeds it
and you and me
in this unity will become the third


Layla waited to speak. She wasn’t going to read anymore, but
she thought she should say something else. Now she stood up.
“You’re wonderful!” a woman shouted.
“I’m competent,” Layla replied.
She put her hands together.
“I don’t know much about poetry.”
There were objections, and Layla said, “No. I really don’t. I
don’t read it a lot. I just put out what was in my head. I hope
you all like it. Actually, I really hope you like it, cause there are
the books on sale.”
She walked off to chuckling, and Will instantly caught her
up.
“She’s brilliant!” he declared, wrapping an arm around her.
“She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”
The people applauded their agreement.
“You better go out there and meet your people!”
First in the crowd were Claire, Radha and Dena, and then a
woman with short hair and vibrant eyes caught Layla’s wrist.
“Are these your sisters?” the white woman said.
“Uh… this is my sister-in-law,” Layla pointed to the Claire.
“And this is my oldest friend. She’s like a sister.”
“I mean, your soul sisters.”
“I am her uncle’s gay lover’s niece,” Dena said. “And out
mothers are best friends.”
“Soul sisters,” the woman decided. “My name is Anita. Soul
sisters are so important. I just wanted to say I love your
poetry.”
“Thank you.”
“Love it!” Anita repeated. “It was a spiritual experience for
me.”
“Spiritual?” Radha murmured and then cried, “Ouch!”
when Dena kicked her.
“I am inviting the four of you,” Anita handed her card to
Layla, “to WomanFest.”
“Uh…”
“It’s in Terre Haute three weeks from now, and I really
hope you can attend. Please give me a call in the morning.”
Layla placed the card in her pocket and nodding, said, “Yes.
I will. Thank you, Anita.”
And then Anita kissed her on the lips, and while Layla was
still blinking, turned around and left. She winked and waved at
the entrance of the poetry room, and then was gone.
“So… how did you feel about your first lesbian
experience?” Claire asked her.
“If that was it,” Layla said, wiping her mouth, “I’m pretty,
pretty sure I’m straight.”
“Oh, look…” Radha pointed across the lobby, “Your
uncle?”
Dena thought Claire was talking to her about Todd, but she
nudged Layla and said, “It’s Fenn.”
Layla blinked and walked toward her uncle, noticing Dylan
and, beside him, “Kenny?”
“Hey, Layla,” he said, his voice sounding thin. “We heard
your last one. It was really good.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “Thanks, Kenny.”
“Who is that crazy bitch?” Fenn said to his niece.
“Anita of Woman’s Fest.”
Fenn raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“That’s alright,” he decided.
“We just got back,” Dylan said. “We tried to be here
earlier.”
“I didn’t expect you all to be here at all. I really didn’t
expect Kenny to be here.”
“Well….?” Kenny began.
“Kenny’s going to be here for a while,” was all Fenn said.
“We’ll talk later,” Kenny assured her.
He looked so tired and so unsure, that Layla said, “I need
to talk about myself a little longer. But why don’t you go back
to the house.”
“Good idea,” Fenn said. I’ll take him back. I have to go talk
to my husband a moment, though. I’ve been neglecting him.”
Fenn went searching for Todd, and Dena came toward
Kenny.
“Where’s Bren? What’s going on?”
“Bren’s in Chicago, and I’m going a little crazy. I just came
back for a little bit. That’s all,” Kenny said.
Dena looked at the person who had become her friend
over the years.
“That’s all,” he repeated. And she knew there would be no
further discussion, not for now.
It was a few a moments before Kenny realized he was being
shadowed, and when he turned he saw Chad North beside
him.
“How have you been?” Chad said.
“Alright.”
“Not really,” Chad said. They stood in the lobby of the
theatre. “You look like I feel.”
Kenny had always liked Chad. He was sort of Brendan-ish
for lack of a better word, though he was smaller and in some
ways more handsome. Brendan was blond and Chad was dark.
Chad was pea coats, skullcaps and five o’clock shadows.
“Well, I’ve felt like this for a long time. Brendan’s pretty
much married to his job, and I’m back here with no job and no
boyfriend.”
“There are worse things,” Chad said.
“Like?”
Chad gave him a grin. “Like having the good job and the
good degree so that no one sympathizes with you, but losing
the guy cause you cheated on him with someone else and that
didn’t work out. And now you have no one.”
“God, Chad!”
“Does that make you feel better?”
“Actually, no,” Kenny said.
Then he said, “The only thing that makes me feel better is
being away from them.” He pointed to the room where Layla’s
party was going on. “And that makes me feel horrible because
they’re all my friends, and they love me.”
Chad looked back, considering. “I know what you mean.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m gonna go ditch the girls. You wanna
go out?”
“Where to?”
“Does it matter?”
Kenny chuckled and ran a hand over his unshaven throat.
“Nope.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a well done portion! It was nice to see some of Lee and Tom's relationship. We don't hear about both of them much. I like Layla's poems I hope there is more of them to come. I hope Brendan and Kenny can work things out. In the mean time I hope Kenny and Chad have a good night out. Both of them seem pretty down. Great writing and I look forward to more as always! Hope you have a great week!