WATCHING BRAD
Part 119
I could hear the phone ringing, but Brad wasn't answering it. I was just about to disconnect when I heard his voice, clear, but somehow far away. "Hi, Ted."
I yanked the phone from my ear and stared at it. I was sure I'd heard Brad say ‘hi' to me, but I could still hear the ringing coming out of the earpiece of my telephone.
"I'm over here," the voice said.
I looked to my left. I could barely make out Brad sitting on the wall near the house, quite some distance from me and silhouetted by the dim light of the curtained patio doors. He rose to his feet and walked slowly and cautiously toward me.
I wanted to jump up and grab him and hold onto him, but he stopped far enough away from me to make me think he didn't want me to do that. Instead, I stood up and said, "I've been waiting for you to phone me."
"I know. Mom told me you wanted me to call." He sat on the wall beside me, but far enough away that I couldn't reach out and touch him. I sat back down again. "I decided to come over instead and your Dad told me you were out here. You were talking on the telephone to Neil when I came around the house, so I waited until you were finished. But then you dialed again. When no-one answered, I thought you might be calling me. I don't have my phone, and it's turned off."
"I
was calling you. Where have you been?"
"Out."
"Out where?"
"Just ‘out'," he replied quietly. "I have a place I go to when I need to be alone. By the way, thanks for not smoking that cigarette in the park."
"You saw me?"
Brad nodded in the darkness. "Right up until you got in the taxi. I followed you from the doctor's office, then I went to my special place to think. I just got home a few minutes ago."
"I didn't even know you were at the garden park," I told him.
"You weren't supposed to. I just needed to know that you were okay after. . . well, you know. . . in Dr. Davis' office."
"Thanks."
We sat in silence, staring into the dark for an uncomfortably long moment. Finally, I had to break it. "Aren't you going to ask me what Randy and I were talking about in the garden?"
"No," he replied. "I already talked to him," Brad replied. "After you left in the taxi. He was a nice guy. A bit mixed up, but nice."
"He propositioned me, you know," I said.
"I know," Brad replied. "At least he implied as much. He propositioned me, too."
"Maybe you should have gone with him."
"Maybe
you should have gone with him, Ted."
"Me? Why?"
"So you can find out once and for all what it is you want."
I didn't like this insinuation, or where this conversation was going. It was not at all what I had planned. "I already
know what I want!" I said, my voice tinged with a bit of hostility.
"No, you don't Ted. You think you do, but you don't. You say you want me, but what about Barry? I've seen the way you go all ga-ga over him."
"Well," I accused, "
you like Nathan!"
"Nathan doesn't give me a hardon, Ted," he said calmly. "Barry cranks you up solid. And Randy in the park. I could see your hardon from the street. I've even seen the way you look at Jamie, too, and other young guys we see when we're out together. And there are probably others that I don't know about."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Brad."
"You're hung up on younger guys, Ted," Brad continued. "Me, Barry, Randy, Jamie. We're all younger. And we all like you. Some of us even love you. But you're so hung up on being older that it's eating away at you. I'm not sure what it is that bothers you about it, but it's tearing us apart. Until you come to grips with it, I don't see how we can go on like this."
"Brad. . ."
"I did a lot of thinking today, Ted. I thought about this past year, and then these past few weeks. I've tried to think of what I've done to deserve this, and I can't think of anything. The harder I tried to get closer to you, the harder you pushed me away. I know things are tough for you right now, but you've alienated the only person who wants to help you more than anyone else, and that's me. Until you're ready to accept my love, and accept that it's forever, then there's not much more I can do. There's nothing else I can say to you. I can't help being younger than you any more than I can help being in love with you. If that's a problem with you, then you're going to have to figure it out on your own."
"I think I already have."
Brad remained silent then, waiting for me to continue. He had opened the door for me. Now I had to step through it.
"I don't have a problem with
you, Brad," I said. "I have. . ." I took a deep breath. I had to say this. "I have a problem with
me, and I think I know what the problem is. I don't understand why you love me, but I accepted it a long time ago. What I couldn't accept, I think, is what other people would think of us. More importantly, though, what they would think of me."
"People can think whatever the hell they want," Brad offered.
"You don't understand, Brad. I wasn't worried about
you! I've told you before that I was, but I really wasn't. Do you know what a Boy Toy is?"
"Kind of a full-time escort," Brad offered. "A younger guy that lives with an older guy and gets paid for it. I'm not a Boy Toy, Ted."
"I know you aren't, but that isn't what bothers me. I'm terrified that people might
think you are, and that would make me your Sugar Daddy."
"Who cares what other people think?"
"Gee-sus, Murphy, Brad!" I said, my voice raising in volume to near-shouting levels. "Haven't you been listening to me? I didn't give a
shit about you! I didn't care what people thought of you! I was worried that people would think I'm your fuckin' Sugar Daddy!"
The strangest feeling washed over me then. So strange, in fact, that it made me lean away from Brad and left me panting for breath. There was a thundering in my brain as the last of the bricks crumbled to the ground.
I gasped. I could feel fire burning in my face, and it was anger. I had crossed the threshold. I had finally been able to admit to Brad that I wasn't perfect, that I had been more concerned with myself than I was for
him. More importantly, though, in doing so, I had also admitted it to myself, and probably to half the neighbourhood. Oh, yes, there was, indeed, anger, and it was all aimed at me.
And suddenly the anger disappeared, replaced with such a relief as I have rarely felt before. I could see the wall falling as if in slow motion. One by one, the bricks toppled and crashed to the ground and, as the final brick tumbled, there was Brad.
"Oh, God, Brad," I said. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"
Brad moved faster than I could have imagined him. Within half a heartbeat, he had moved beside me and pulled me into his arms. I grabbed onto him, wrapping my arms around him and digging my fingers into his back and burying my face into his shoulder. And then I cried.
* * * * *
"Feeling better?" Brad asked as I lay against him, still nestling my cheek against his shoulder after I'd finally stopped crying.
"Yeah," I answered haltingly. "I think so." I wanted to stay where I was, but I pulled away from him so we could talk. "I really am sorry that I treated you the way I did, Brad."
"Forget it," he said. Even in the dark I could see his chipped-tooth smile. "Oh, and I'm sorry I called you an asshole."
"Don't apologize for that," I said firmly as I looked away from him. "You were right. I really
am an asshole."
"No, you aren't."
I looked back at him. "Yes, I am. The way I've been treating you? I more than deserved it."
"Look, Ted, let's not talk about it now, okay? We can sort it out later. Did Neil help you come to that realization?"
"What makes you think that's why I called him?"
"Well," Brad replied, "the guy he was in love with, the one who looks like me, was younger, too. I'm guessing you called him to ask how he dealt with it."
"He told me a little poem," I told him. "I don't remember it all, but he called it a ‘Grook' and said I could look it up online. Basically, it said people often worry about what other people are thinking, but they can think whatever the hell they want. They're not important. It's what
we think that really counts."
"And what do
you think, Ted?"
I thought for a few long, silent moments. Somewhere in the dark, somewhere out in the darkness, a siren sounded. Someone needed help. So did I. "I think I want you to come with me to my appointment with Dr. Davis tomorrow."
"Okay," he replied quietly. "I'll go."
"Will you stay here tonight?"
I could see his head shaking slowly. "No," he said just as quietly. "Not tonight. Not until we're
both sure I should. Right now, I'm not sure."
I stared at him in the soft light of the half-moon. "I miss you, Tiger."
"I miss you, too, Pops," he replied. Then, after saying it, he added, "Maybe I shouldn't call you that anymore."
"Why not?"
"It makes you sound older."
"I
am older, Brad. I always will be. You're a tiger and I'm a pops. It's never going to change. I just have to try to get over it."
Brad's hand came to my shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You have to believe me, Ted. I don't see you as older. I see you only as the man you are. Nothing else matters to me. Nothing else
should matter."
Brad didn't give me time to respond.
"Let me ask you something," he said quickly. "If I didn't have this thing between my legs, if I was like every other normal guy, would you still love me?"
"Of course I would."
"How can I be sure?"
I didn't have to think about the answer. "You just have to believe me, Brad."
"And
you just have to believe
me, Ted." With that, he stood up. "Call me tomorrow when you're ready to go to your appointment. I'll be ready."
And then he was gone.
* * * * *
I almost gave in that night and took a sleeping pill, but managed somehow to clear my mind enough to fall asleep. I awoke felling sleepy, but refreshed, and I was feeling pretty good, but still feeling lonely and empty. My bed felt lonely and empty. Thankfully, neither Mom nor Dad mentioned Brad's visit the night before. I didn't want the kids to know he was here, but I told him that he'd be here at noon to take me to the doctor. The kids were excited, of course, but Jeremy's eyes turned into saucers of anticipation. He, most of all, missed Brad.
The morning went rather smoothly. Once again, the twins and I walked Lindsay to school, but only as far as the park this time. She walked the rest of the way with her friends after I had reminded her to come home for lunch instead of Grandma Hayes'. I'd taken the boys' skates and pads and helmets with me. I kitted them out, and sent them on their way around the paths in the park. They skated hand-in-hand and they skated very well.
Lori showed up with Andrew after about a half hour and I changed the twins back into their shoes so they could play with Lori's son. Lori and I sat on the bench nearby talking.
"My uncle might be coming up for a visit this Summer," she told me. "He's really anxious to see for himself that what I've told him is true."
"Well," I replied, "not knowing everything you've told him, I can only hope it is."
"From what I've seen and heard, it is. Any idea when you can go back to work?"
"As soon as my doctor says I can," I explained.
"This isn't going to screw up your vacation for your honeymoon, is it?"
"No. This is ‘sick leave'. I'm still entitled to the time off for my holidays." My holidays certainly wouldn't screw up my honeymoon, but the lack of a wedding certainly could. I didn't care to mention that, though. I didn't want to even think about the possibility of there not being a wedding.
Lori and Andrew came back home with us for lunch. We'd decided that she could spend some time with Terry and Andrew could play with the twins. They could have their afternoon naps together. It wouldn't be much longer before they didn't need them anymore, but right now they couldn't make it through the day without them. That would begin changing in September when they would start Kindergarten. Their first day in school would be the day they would start growing up.
Brad showed up early to spend some time with the kids.
"When are you coming home, Brad," Jeremy asked in a saddened voice.
Brad was kneeling on the floor in the livingroom as Jeremy stood beside him, their arms around each other's back. Jeremy disengaged himself and stepped between Brad's legs, wrapping his little arms around the big man and mashing his cheek against Brad's chest. Brad hugged him back. "Soon, I hope, Jeremy," he answered quietly and lovingly.
We left at twelve-forty in order to get to the appointment on time. Dr. Davis was waiting there, surprised to see Brad with me.
"Is it okay if Brad sits in with us?" I asked.
"That's fine if that is what you wish," Dr. Davis said, "but I'd like to talk to you alone first."
Brad nodded and took a seat in the reception room as Dr. Davis and I went into his office. I told the doctor of my conversations with both Randy in the garden and with my friend, Neil, and then I told him about my conversation with Brad the night before.
"Do you really thing you're a Sugar Daddy?" he asked me.
"No, but I'm afraid other people will
think I am," I said. "The worst part, though, is that I was so busy telling Brad that I was too old for him that I didn't realize that I wasn't telling myself that he was too young for me."
"Is he?"
"No," I answered. "At least he wasn't when I fell in love with him."
"But he is now?"
"Only as far as people thinking he's my Boy Toy."
"You know he's not, Ted."
"Yes, I know," I affirmed.
"But you're afraid people will think you're his Sugar Daddy."
I didn't have to respond. He already knew what I would have said.
"It's extremely difficult to change other people's beliefs, Ted," Dr. Davis continued. "It's even more difficult to change your own. That's something you will have to try to do on your own. I can't help you with that. You may never get over it. Those feelings may stay with you for the rest of your life. You can either accept them and ignore them or you can let them rule over you for the rest of your life. I have one question which I don't want you to answer right now. I only want you to think about it for a minute or two."
I nodded and waited patiently, and Dr. Davis seemed to draw out the pause just to torture me. Finally he asked it.
"Is Brad more important to you than what other people think of you?"
Dr. Davis stood up as I thought about his question. He went to the door and motioned to Brad to come in. A few moments later, Brad was sitting beside me in the other chair and Dr. Davis was once again sitting across the small table from us.
"Are you ready to answer the question, Ted?" Dr. Davis asked.
"Yes," I said quietly.
"Then I'll ask it again. Is Brad more important to you than what other people think of you?"
I couldn't look at Brad as I gave my answer. "Except for my family," I said, "Brad is the most important person in the world to me."
Brad's hand found my own and his fingers entwined with mine. He squeezed it.
I looked at him then, my eyes finding his and holding the gaze. I fought my emotions as I spoke, my voice forced and wavering with the effort. "I love you, Brad," I said in a rough whisper. "I need you. I need you to help me deal with this. Will you help me?"
Brad didn't answer. He stood up, pulling me to my feet, and grabbed me in a bear hug. He held me hard and for a very long time. I melted into him. I could feel the heat and the strength from his body flowing into me, lifting me up and making me feel better than I had in a long time. I could feel his life beating and breathing against me. His scent crept into my lungs and began warming me from the inside out. His heat and strength and life met the warmth of his scent somewhere around my heart, and then the strangest thing happened and I began to cry.
Brad suddenly backed away from me so he could look into my face - into my eyes.
"Ted?" he said.
To Be Continued
The next chapter will be posted on Friday morning. Thanks for being so patient and understanding. - Neil
. Thank you again for the great work on bringing to life two marvelous people and the "family" that surrounds them.
