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Watching Brad

WATCHING BRAD
Part LIII​

December 26, the Feast of St. Stephen, is known as ‘Boxing Day' in Canada and many Commonwealth countries. Traditionally, it derives from the custom of church officials opening locked earthenware boxes in which donations had been collected throughout the year. This money was then distributed to the poor. There are many and varied beliefs in how this holiday actually came about, including stories about those well-to-do people who would pack up food and discarded clothes and unused toys, et cetera, and give it to their church for distribution, but the money box explanation is the most commonly accepted. At least in Canada.

Why tell you this? Well, to make you smarter and because it helps to explain why I didn't have to go back to work for two more days. Lindsay and Brad didn't have school, for one thing. They would not return until after the New Year. Now, both Christmas Day and Boxing Day are statutory holidays in Canada, meaning no work for me. This is where it gets a bit confusing. Since Christmas Day fell on Sunday, which is a holiday in itself, Monday becomes the statutory holiday. However, since Monday is Boxing Day, Tuesday becomes the holiday as well.

So. No work for two days. Extra-long weekend. Pretty cool, eh? Two more whole days to spend with my kids. This also meant that Mom and Dad didn't have to go back home until Tuesday.

We spent the morning beginning the rink out back. Brad shovelled out the basic shape and used his father's lawn roller to pack it down smoothly. Or as smooth as he could. That was the fun part of backyard rinks. Lots of bumps and valleys, and a bugger to try to make a puck go straight. But it was fun. The boys were bundled up again in their snow suits and got in the way a lot and threw lots of snow about. They stood beside Brad as he soaked the packed snow in preparation for making the ice later on. He would flood it several more times this afternoon and tonight. It would take many, many more floodings to make something we could skate on.

The boys couldn't skate, like I told you earlier, but they wanted to go, and they didn't want to wait the days it would take to build the backyard rink. So, after lunch, Brad and I bundled up the twins, gathered their skates, helmets, and pads, and headed off to the local community centre. Lindsay didn't really like ice skating. She came along with Grandma and Grandpa and watched.

At one time, you could skate at the rink all afternoon for a quarter. These days, it's five bucks a head. So, for twenty bucks, I would take my three favourite boys skating. I wasn't a good skater. I hated hockey. But at least I could stay on my feet - for the most part. Brad had told me he was a so-so skater. We put on our skates first before we got the twins ready. With their skates tied tightly and elbow and knee pads in place and helmets secured on their heads, I held Justin's hand and Brad held Jeremy's. Onto the ice we went.

It was fairly busy, but certainly not crowded, and the people were moving well as they circled the rink in a counter-clockwise direction. Justin went down first as soon as his feet hit the ice, but I managed to pull him back to his feet before his bum hit ground zero. It scared him, but he was laughing just the same. "Can you show us how, Brad?" Jeremy asked.

I looked at him. "Care to demonstrate?" I asked.

Brad shrugged. "Sure," he said. "I'll give it a try." He passed Jeremy to me and I stood there with two excited little boys clasping my hands in their tiny mittened hands.

Brad took off, his legs swinging back and forth and his powerful legs propelling him into the crowd. He zipped around people and dodged them with the skill of a hockey player. He did fancy cross-overs, spun around and skated backwards, and all with great care and consideration and skill. He made two full laps of the rink, cruising along now, slowing down when necessary and accelerating when he could. I should never have doubted his abilities. If that was ‘so-so', then Kurt Browning and Scott Hamilton are amateurs.

We were still standing where we had stopped, the twins following him around the rink with anxious and excited eyes. When Brad finished his second lap, he skated straight toward us, a huge smile on his face. I would have rammed into the boards at that speed. I could stop about as well as I could skate. But Brad came on and, at the proper moment, turned both feet to the left, bent his knees, leaned to his side, and sent up a shower of ice crystals over us as his skate blades dug into the ice, stopping him. The boys were laughing their heads off and I almost pissed my pants. I was certain I was going to be Bumper Number One.

Brad pulled out of his brake with a tight circle, his left leg extended in front of the right. He bent at the waist then, squatting slightly with his knees spread wide, his elbows on his thighs. He came to a stop in front of us.

"I bet you can knit," I said to him. He looked up at me, still smiling, and winked.

"Wow!" Jeremy said. Brad picked him up and set off again, taking Jeremy for a lap around the rink before bringing him back and taking Justin for the same ride.

I was useless as a teacher. How can you teach someone how to skate when you can barely do it yourself. Brad was a natural, so I let him do most of it. He stood in front of Jeremy and clasped his hands. Then, bent over with his legs straight and spread wide, his feet began to turn inward and, with no more effort than pushing his legs apart, he began to move backward, pulling Jeremy along. He'd point his feet out and pull his legs together to continued his backward skating. I couldn't do that. I could only go where I was looking, and I seldom looked behind me.

For almost two hours, Brad worked with the boys. For the last half hour or so, they were skating on their own. Well, not really skating, but walking on blades. They fell a lot, but they'd get back up and try again. I didn't worry much. At that age, kids don't have far to fall. And they bounce.

At the end, just before we went home, Brad held Jeremy's hand and I held Justin's. The twins held hands between us. Brad and I took them on a double-lap tour of the rink. I was surprised that I actually made it around the entire rink twice. I was more surprised that I didn't fall on my ass and drag everyone else down with me. It was a fun afternoon.

The boys fell asleep in the van on the way home. They didn't even wake up as we carried them into the house and undressed them and put them to bed for their naps.

Brad went back outside to flood the rink again. Lindsay disappeared into her bedroom to play and I sat with Mom and Dad, having a nice, hot cup of tea with them.

"I can't remember when I've had a better Christmas," Mom said.

"Neither can I," I replied. "It's been great. Thanks for being so cool with all this. You know, with me and Brad. It must be difficult for you."

Dad shrugged. "Brad is not a mistake, Son." When he saw my expression, he added, "I still don't approve of it, but I approve of you. You have changed, my Sonskyn. And I have changed as well. I believe we are both better for it."

"You haven't called me your ‘Sunshine' since I was a kid."

"That was my mistake."

"Your father and I talked about this for a long time, Teddy," Mom said. "We had our reservations about Brad."

"I know," I said. "Dad told me."

"We thought you'd gone all wonky bonky on us," she continued. "Especially since you are so much older than he."

I chuckled. "I'm not wonky, Mom."

"We know that, Son," Dad said. "Brad is a very difficult young man to dislike." And then he added, "He is a very difficult young man not to love."

The cup froze half-way to my lips as I stared at my Dad.

"You have given us a beautiful granddaughter, my Sonskyn," he said, "and two beautiful grandsons. And now you are giving us another son. Shame on any parent who would not see how wonderful and gratifying that is."

The patio door slid open. "Gee-sus, Murpy! It's cold out there!" Brad shouted as he stepped inside. His cheeks were solid pink.

Mom rose to her feet. "Come sit," she said. "I'll pour you a hot cup of coffee."

"Thanks, Mom," Brad said as he pulled off his coat and boots. He stood up. "Look at this!" He placed the open part of one of his gloves into the palm of his hands. It stood up and held its shape. "Frozen stiff," he laughed.

He grabbed his other glove and laid both on the glove stand over hot air vent beneath the patio doors where they would thaw and dry out. He left his coat and boots and ear muffs near the door and came to sit beside me. "I'll be using them again soon. It's building up nice." He rubbed his hands together, then clasped my hand between his and kissed me.

I put my other hand on top of his and began rubbing my heat into him.

Mom returned with Brad's mug of coffee. He took it in both hands, wrapping his fingers around it. "Mmmm," he murmured. "Think I'll just hold it for awhile. Thanks."

Mom returned to sit beside Dad on the settee. "Are you still thinking of opening a landscaping business, Brad?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I've been thinking about it a lot. A few of the neighbours have been asking me about it and Mom and Dad want me to do their front yard next Spring. I've already got the design done. I think I can do a few others in the Summer, too."

"Can you do it on your own?" Dad asked.

"I'll hire Mags. She's good, and she likes it. If I have to, I'm sure I could find someone else, too."

"Where are you going to get the money?"

"Well," Brad explained, "Bill already said he'd invest, and I already have most of the tools. I've already been talking to a local nursery. They'll give me commercial rates."

"You never told me that," I said, surprised.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you did."

"I thought of a name for the business yesterday," he said as he looked at Dad. "You gave me the idea."

"Me?" Dad asked.

"Yes. I'm thinking of calling it ‘Baie Dankie Landscaping'," he said proudly. "Kind of catchy, isn't it?"

"People will surely take notice of it," Dad said. "Imagine. Thanking your customers before they hire you."

"I think that's a delightful name," Mom said. "You'll have to register it, of course."

"Oh, I know," Brad said. He turned to me and asked, "What do you think, Ted?"

"I think we should start looking for places to set up shop for Baie Dankie Landscaping," I said. It was my turn to hug and kiss him.

* * * * *

"Ouma," Justin said, "can we have some cookies and hot chocolate?"

"Why don't you ask your father?"

"‘Cuz he'll say ‘no'," Jeremy replied.

"Well, then," Mom smiled. "You asked the right person. Come." She stood up haughtily, took the twins by the hand, and led them into the kitchen. She gave me a wink and I gave her a nod.

"Lindsay!" I shouted. "Do you want some hot chocolate, Sweetheart!?"

"Yes, please!" came her reply from her bedroom. "Come see what I did, Daddy!"

"Duty calls," I said as I rose to my feet.

"Isn't it pretty?" Lindsay asked when I entered her room. She had directed my sight to her dresser, the front of which was now decorated with her unicorn and faerie peel-and-stick stickers.

I sat beside her on her bed and she climbed into my lap. "It's beautiful, Sweetheart," I told her as I hugged her and kissed her hair. "There might be a problem, though."

"What, Daddy?"

"Well, the glue will dry out and the stickers will start to peel off."

"Oh, no," she said sadly. "Did I do it wrong?"

"No, Sweetheart. You didn't. But I can fix it so they don't ever come off if you want. Would you like me to do that?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy!" she said excitedly. "Please!"

"Okay," I told her. "Next weekend, we'll take everything out of your drawers and we'll take them into the basement and varnish them."

"Will they fall off before then?"

"Not as long as you don't pick at them or try to peel them off."

"I won't," she said as she spun around and hugged me.

I hugged her back and kissed her hair again. "I love you, Sweetheart," I said softly.

"I love you, too, Daddy."

"Let's go have some hot chocolate and cookies." I picked her up and carried her to the livingroom.

* * * * *

"Brad!" I called out the patio door. I'd only opened it a crack. "Your parents are here for supper! Come on, boys!"

The twins came running as best they could in their snow suits. "Just about done!" Brad shouted back. "Be there in a few minutes!"

When the boys reached the door, I opened it and brought them inside. They stood waiting on the matt as I closed the sliding door and began pulling off their outerwear.

"Hurry, Daddy," Justin said. "I have to go pee."

"Why didn't you come in?" I asked as I began pulling off his clothes.

"I think it froze out there."

Dad laughed behind me.

I finished undressing him and sent Justin on his way as I turned my attention to Jeremy. "Do you have to go, too?"

"Not as much as Justin. Brad said we can go skating soon."

"Ex-cell-ent!" I said.

Later, as Brad sat beside me on the sofa warming up, he said, "I'll flood it again after supper and before we go to bed. It should be okay for the twins by Wednesday if it stays cold like this, but there won't be enough ice for adults."

"That's fine by me," I smiled.

We had leftovers that evening. Lots and lots of leftovers. No problem, really. Mom and Bernice had heated up what needed heating up and set the rest out on the kitchen table. We had a buffet style dinner, loading our plates and eating in the living room. The kids knelt at the coffee table. The rest of us ate from plates set in our laps. It was casual, but fun.

"I must say," Bernice said, "this has been the most wonderful Christmas I've ever had."

"Hear hear!" Dad added.

"Who could have guessed that, when Mr. Perkins sold this house a few months ago, our new family would be moving in."

"It has truly been our pleasure," John said, "to have met all of you and to have been welcomed into your home and family."

I was about to respond when Dad spoke up. "It has been our pleasure to welcome you," he said. "Especially your son."

Brad looked up from his plate, a piece of turkey hanging out of his mouth. He shoved it in with a finger. "Who, me?" he mumbled as his eyes flicked from face to face.

I wiped the gravy from his chin and licked it off my finger, smiling as I did so. "Just eat, Brad. And don't talk with your mouth full."

"Yeah, Brad," Jeremy chimed in. "We can't. So do you." Bad phraseology, but he got his point across.

* * * * *

Brad flooded the rink yet again as I readied the boys for their baths. They were good at them now and could play without much splashing. Little mopping had to be done afterward, and what splashes they did make they usually cleaned up themselves unless it was an accident they couldn't handle. I still wouldn't let them rinse their own hair, though. A hand-held shower was not a good thing for little boys to have in their hands.

Later, with the kids and Mom and Dad in their beds and John and Bernice gone home, I checked the log which burned in the fireplace and went outside to watch Brad giving the rink a final flooding for the night. "Gee-sus, Murphy," I said. "It's cold out here!"

"Go back in," Brad said. "I'm fine out here by myself."

"Hey, if you can handle it, so can I."

Brad began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "I was just thinking of all the fun I'm going to have warming you up."

"If you can find it," I told him. "Major dink shrink going on here. Not that you'd know anything about that." I stepped up behind him and wrapped my arms around him.

Brad leaned into me as he sprayed water over the ice. "You ever pee your name in the snow?"

"What guy hasn't?"

"Too cold for something like that tonight, unless you like pissing icicles."

"Ouch," I said. "Oh, hey! Turn that off a sec."

Brad switched off the nozzle. "What?"

"Find the middle of the rink for me," I said as I slipped off my glove and stuck my hand in my pants pocket, pulling out a handful of change. I found a Loonie. "Here. Stick this in the ice."

"Oh, cool," Brad said as I handed him the coin. "Salt Lake City." He pushed the Loonie into the mushy, partly-frozen water and sprayed over it. "See how long it takes the kids to notice."

"See how long it takes them to dig it out."

Brad finished the flooding. As he drained the hose and put it away, I went inside and made some hot chocolate for us. The house was already locked up When he came in for the final time that night, I stood at the door and helped him take off his winter clothing. "Should I keep going?" I asked with a wink.

"Later," he said. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, long and hard. "Do you have any idea how happy I am, Ted?"

"As happy as I am?"

"I don't know," he said. "How happy are you?"

"On a scale of one to ten? About twenty-six."

Brad smiled. "I'm about a twenty-four, then. But that number will significantly increase when we get to bed."

"There aren't enough numbers for me when we're in bed together," I told him. I kissed him, then said, "Come on. Let's get you warmed up."

We settled down on the carpet in front of the fireplace and let the heat and the hot chocolate and our love for each other warm us up.

To Be Continued
 
Neil, my friend, another heart-warming chapter. If anyone ever had any doubt about long term relationships, or domestic bliss, they need to read this story from the beginning. And if they are unaffected afterward, there is something very wrong with them.

While I can see the conclusion of this beautiful story coming, I plan to enjoy whatever remaining bits yopu are planning to add to it.

Thanks once again for some top notch entertainment!(*8*)
 
Yes Ronboy, I think we can all see an ending coming up ....... but hope it's not too soon .... too many of us enjoying !!!
Thankyou Neil for yet another outstanding chapter .... I ,& many others I suspect , want this story to run forever !!!!
Kleenex at the ready, What more tearful moments can you throw at us ???
Peace & Love
Harry
 
harry113 said:
Yes Ronboy, I think we can all see an ending coming up ....... but hope it's not too soon ....

Like I said earlier, this story is based on real time, using a real calendar. We're heading into 2006 soon. You may have noticed that a lot of time passed in a few chapters and slowed down again when important events took place and it became almost a day-to-day thing. That's how the rest of the story will probably continue now until we reach the present.

But don't worry. I have a few more tears and nail-biting cliffhangers in store for you. With a surprise or two thrown in as well.

Believe me. I don't want this story to end any more than you do. The de Villiers family is my life now.
 
This story has good times and bad times, just like we do. I enjoy it still. Thank you Neil.
 
Neil, Well i stopped for the evening on page 11 of this forum. I like Cali and Mags.
Good reading. I liked this story. It churns so much feelings of that longing to find someone like Brad (again). As I mention in my email to you I was listening to Vivaldi's Four Seasons and it just seemed to blend in with moods of the story. You brought tears and laughter to my eyes. The comments of the other readers are good too. I shall pick up tomorrow.
To Neil, and the other readers - Have a good evening!
 
Thanks again for all your comments, guys. I'll give you a bit of warning, though. There will be another big and extended 'cliffhanger' coming up early next week. Tuesday, to be exact.

I hope you understand. I've already written the cliffhanger and its solution chapter, but I'm rather stumped at the moment where I should go from there. I've spent most of the afternoon thinking about it and there's nothing there yet.

Don't worry. Something will come up. I'm sure even Dame Agatha Christie had writer's block now and then.

Thanks, and take care, eh?
Neil
 
I'm not worried at all Neil. In addition to, in my opinion, being the best writer here ever, I know you consider your readers as you write. I love and hate the cliffhangers, but I think that just proves your talent. Please continue and once again know that you are so much loved for all your contributions!
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part LIV​

Mom and Dad left for home Tuesday morning before noon. They'd got caught in holiday traffic when they came Friday night and didn't want to face it again going back. After that, it was just Brad and me with the kids. We were back to being our own little family again.

The house was strangely empty and quiet. Brad spent the better part of the afternoon with Lindsay, sorting through all the holiday pictures we'd taken and burning them to DVD so we could watch them in a slide show on TV. I was left pretty-much alone with the boys and we had a lot of fun. We'd taken their electric train set downstairs into the basement and set it up and played with it for almost an hour as we sat on the floor together.

Jeremy was the first to begin to get sleepy, so I shut down the train as Justin pulled out their little foam futon into a bed. I sat down on it, leaning against the back and stretching my legs out as the boys crawled into my arms, settling their heads near each other on my chest as I held them. They were asleep within minutes.

I kissed each of their heads and told them how much I loved them. They couldn't hear me, of course, but I told them anyway. Then I leaned my head back and thought about how much my life had changed and what other ways I wanted it to be different. I couldn't think of a single thing I would change now.

My family was my life, and I had everything I wanted right there with me. I had a man who I loved more than I've loved anyone else, and he loved me just as much. I had my daughter, Lindsay, who had been my precious gift from the day she was born. And I had two sons that I would die to protect. Heaven help anyone who tried to take any of that away from me.

I wasn't rich by any stretch of the imagination. I had enough money to take care of my family, but things would be tight until Brad finished school. There would be no in-ground swimming pool next Summer. I'd already nixed that idea. The Dolphino would have to do again. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to manage the en suite bathroom I wanted. That might have to wait, too.

Did I regret that? Not a bit. Sacrifices were all part of being a father, and there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for my family.

Justin stirred in my arms, his fingers digging into my stomach as he stretched in his sleep, then he smacked his lips a few times and settled down again. I could stay there for hours holding my boys. I enjoyed every moment of doing absolutely noting except holding onto them. I said a silent ‘thank you' to Warren that day. If it hadn't been for him and his thoughts of adoption, I would never have met these boys. Warren had sent me to them.

You know, if I had to pick a ‘best friend', it would have to be Warren. He was strange and kookie and overly-dramatic at times, but, from the day we'd met when we were kids, he was always there for me and I was always there for him. We took care of each other. He could be wild at times, and every bit the queen he sometimes portrayed himself as, but he was a wonderful, sensitive man. Like he had been a not long ago when I was watching the twins sleep and he came in. I haven't told you how much I cried when he told me about his heart surgery. I cried for hours worrying myself about him. I felt myself dying right along with him.

I knew Warren loved me. He always had. But his love extended beyond friendship. We both knew he liked boys when we were kids, and we both knew that he liked me. He was a chubby, misunderstood boy who grew into a chunky, misunderstood teenager who was very frightened of his future. We experimented together sexually as best friends often do. I enjoyed it, but, at the time, it wasn't something I wanted for the rest of my life. I wanted a family. For Warren, though, he wanted nothing else. Being gay was all he wanted to be.

Perhaps it was the way others treated him that pushed all those thoughts into the back of my mind. It had been tough for Warren, especially in high school. The teasing and razzing and bullying he took, and always I would be there to stand by him. He hated sports and gym. He took music and played in the high school bands. Clarinet. Not a manly instrument by any stretch of the imagination. Not to mention the fact that the clarinet is one of the most phallic instruments ever made. He was never really good at it, but music was his outlet. He was always stuck playing second or third clarinet. Usually third unless second wasn't available to play.

Funnily enough, Warren hated French in school. He took it because it was an easy credit, but he hated it. I'm not sure why he slips it into his conversations all the time now. He says it's because it makes him sound intelligent. I think it's so he can be different from everyone else. And Warren is certainly different. There's not another like him. I wouldn't have him any other way.

Yes, he was strange and eccentric, but he was my best friend.

Things changed drastically in college when he met Bill. Actually, it was Bill who met Warren. Like I told you before, Bill was a big guy. Not fat. Just tall and big. He was quite intimidating, really, especially to someone as skinny and scrawny as me. We first noticed Bill in the college library. Warren and I had been sitting together at a table doing research for some assignment or other, and Bill was hanging around the stacks. I could see Warren watching him, and I could see Bill watching us. I knew I was out of my league if he started anything with us. There was no way I could protect Warren from him. He was just too big.

Later, as we sat in the student common area, Bill was there again. He was following us. I still remember Warren's words to me that afternoon - and I remember my words to him:

"I know you don't like going to the bathroom with me there, Teddy, but if you have to take a leak, I'm going to be right there beside you holding your hand."

"Easy, Warren. He won't try anything here. Not with so many people around."

"Shit, Teddy," he said as he unconsciously grabbed hold of my hand, "he can kill both of us with one hand tied behind his back."

"What he does to you, he does to me. Come on."

I took Warren out of the common room and we headed out to the lawns surrounding the college, glancing behind us to see if we were being followed. We couldn't see Bill. Maybe it had all be coincidence. Our imaginations. Maybe our fears had all been for naught and we were scaring ourselves for no reason whatsoever. We found a bench under a tree and sat down to continue studying. And then this great shadow fell over us and we looked up together and Bill was standing right in front of us, looking down at us. Both of us froze where we were.

We were alone. There were very few other students around. Very few witnesses, and probably even fewer people who would come to our rescue. I sucked in a huge, steadying breath.

Bill had sunglasses on now, and that made it even more intimidating. I hated not being able to see his eyes. He spoke. "Hi. I'm Bill." His voice was eerily pleasant. The calm before the fist parade.

We said nothing in response. I was still holding my breath.

"Pardon me for being forward, but are you two a couple?"

"No," I said. "We're just friends."

A gentle smile curled his lips. "Good, because I find you very attractive."

"Oh," I said. Well, this was something I hadn't anticipated. "Sorry, but I'm not gay."

"Not you," Bill said. "Him."

"Me?" Warren said. He was as stunned and surprised as I was.

And then Bill took off his sunglasses. "Yes, you. May I sit down?"

"Um. . ." Warren looked at me, then back at Bill. "Sure."

Bill sat down beside Warren, sitting slightly sideways, facing him. He laid his arm over the back of the bench behind Warren, and Warren's hand once more sought mine.

"Pardon me for being forward again," Bill said softly, "but. . ." And then he leaned forward and kissed Warren right there on the bench.

Warren's hand clutched mine, his fingers digging into me, ans the lip lock continued. And then his grasp relaxed as he settled into the kiss. I just sat there, staring.

Finally, Bill pulled back and a huge smile split his lips. "I was right," he said. "What's your name?"

"Warren," my friend replied.

"Well, Warren," Bill said, "I would be honoured if you would join me for dinner tonight."

And that's how it started.

Warren came to my dorm room later that night. I had two other roommates who bitched and complained about being awakened, but I didn't care. I grabbed my robe and Warren and I went down to the empty common room. The first thing Warren did was to pull me into his chubby arms and hug me and cry on my shoulder.

When he could speak again, he pushed away from me, but held onto my arms. "Oh, my God, Teddy," he said. "He likes me! He really, really likes me!"

A few weeks later, Warren was telling me all about the night they had spent together. Except for our fooling around together when we were younger, Warren was practically a virgin. Not anymore.

"He's beautiful, Teddy, and so loving and caring," Warren was explaining. "He doesn't even care that I'm fat and ugly. He thinks I'm beautiful, too! We made love together!"

"Now, don't start jumping to conclusions here, Warren," I told him. "Don't start going all goofy on him just because he let you blow him."

"No, Teddy! You don't understand! He made love to me first! He gave me the blowjob!"

Now, that was totally unexpected. It came out of left field and smacked me right in the face.

"Did you hear me, Teddy? Bill made love to me!"

Warren's words finally sunk into my brain. Bill was sincerely interested in Warren, and he had taken the first step. As it turned out, they had spent many hours making love with each other and Warren was walking on the ninth cloud up.

I couldn't have been happier for Warren. He'd expected to spend his whole life alone, without love - with only his dreams and fantasies to keep him company. We became a threesome after that. Well, almost. I wasn't there all the time, of course. But, where Warren was, you'd usually find Bill and me. Their eyes never strayed beyond each other after that. They had no desire to look anywhere else.

In a way, it was like me and Brad. We found each other and things happened. We just clicked, and we never looked beyond each other. The only big difference is that Bill and Warren never moved in with each other until after they were married. They were always together, but they never lived with each other. I don't think either of them ever thought they day would come when they could become a legal couple.

I had always loved Warren as a friend, as the brother I never had. I quickly fell in love with Bill in the same way. They were perfect for each other. Bill easily countered Warren's wackiness and eccentricities and kept the relationship sane and intact. And he kept Warren safe. As big as Bill was, I never saw him throw a punch at anyone. Even back in college, he knew people and could read them and know what was going on in their minds. He just had the knack. He could talk his way out of anything, just like he had done with the boys who still slept in my arms.

I looked down at them and kissed their heads again, burying my face in their hair and inhaling the love they had for me. I hugged my love back into them. Life was so good.

* * * * *

Justin woke me up by knocking on my chest with his tiny knuckles. Jeremy was awake, too. I opened my eyes to discover we had a blanket from the guestroom tossed over us. Brad, I thought.

"Daddy," Justin said, "we're hungry."

"Well," I said as I gave them each a kiss on the lips, "we can't have that now, can we?"

I pushed the blanket aside and the boys climbed out of my arms. They laughed as they watched me struggle to my feet. Man, I was stiff! That little futon was fine for four-year-old boys. Not so great for a thirty-three-year-old body.

They scrambled up the stairs in front of me and ran off to their bathroom for a pee as I headed into the kitchen to make them a sandwich. "Lindsay!? Brad!? Want a sandwich!?"

"Yes, please!" Lindsay called back.

"I'll take a couple!" Brad yelled.

"It's jam and peanut butter!" I shouted down the hall toward the bedroom.

"That's cool! Need some help!?"

"I can handle it!"

I set about making six jam and peanut butter sandwiches. The kids ate at the coffee table as Brad and I sat side by side on the sofa. Cartoons were playing on the new big-screen TV.

"Thanks for the blanket," I told Brad.

"No probs," he said. "Got some nice pictures out of it." He gave me a bite of one of his sandwiches and then he kissed me. "Wait until you see how cute you looked with the twins sleeping on you like that."

"I'm hardly cute," I said.

"Could have fooled me," he said, and he kissed me again. "You even taste cute."

"Brad," Lindsay said sternly, "put Daddy down! We're trying to watch cartoons!"

We'd been told. So, we shut up and ate our snacks in silence.

* * * * *

Brad jerked off for me that night and I sat beside him, watching him. No lips touched his cock that night - neither his nor mine - as he stroked himself. Only Brad's hands touched him. Of all his talents, none surpassed Brad's ability to masturbate. His hands worked as much magic on himself as they did on me. He was as caring when making love to himself as he was when he made love to me.

Still, it wasn't only for his own pleasure. It was mostly for mine. He would much prefer servicing me, but he knew how much I enjoyed watching him, and he did it all for me.

He was lying back against the pillows propped up against the headboard. I sat on the bed near his butt. Brad's right leg was spread wide, dangling over my lap, his inner thigh resting against my balls. My hand brushed against the lightly-tufted hair of his leg as I stroked myself along with him. His left leg was tilted to the side, his knee bent and tucked around my ass. His balls lay flat against the bed.

We didn't speak. Our gentle moans and groans told each other what we wanted to say. Brad used every technique he could think of to coax me to excitement. Two-handed. Single-handed. One hand tickling his balls or his chest, or stretching to poke at that wrinkled opening between his ass cheeks. Both hands beginning in the middle of his cock, the right hand moving up as the left moved down, and then he would see-saw them. Up and down. He held the head of his cock between his palms and rolled them back and forth as if he were trying to start a fire like a Boy Scout. Flames ignited in my groin and my hand rushed to extinguish them.

His right hand grasped his cockhead, the fingers firmly wrapped around it. Down it stroked. Half-way down, his left hand took its place above the ridge of his cock and followed its partner. The right hand released it grasp when it reached the bottom, returned to the head, and repeated the process, followed by his left. Again and again he stroked himself this way. And then he reversed it.

Brad's eyes watched my face, his mouth dangling open slightly, showing me that marvelous chipped tooth. His chest and stomach rose and fell with each breath. His right leg rolled on my lap. His knee bent and his calf tucked itself behind me. Together, his legs trapped my body in their prison.

His breathing became faster - more desperate. His left hand moved to his balls, the fingers cradling the tender orbs in a soft bed of flesh. His right hand began to stroke on its own, faster and faster, with greater urgency and need.

"I'm going to cum, Ted," he said. "Oh, God, I'm going to cum."

My own stroking sped up as I watched Brad's eyes close. His face began to contort into that magnificent expression of total exhilaration. I watched his cock swell and I watched Brad clench his teeth as his hand stroked even faster.

The first shot of semen cannoned out of his cock and catapulted against the wall above his head with an explosion I could easily hear. Another rope of cream erupted from him, splashing onto the wall, the headboard, and his face. Then another and another. And still he kept cumming. His single, prolonged moan sounded his release through his clenched teeth.

Brad's orgasms were a wonder to behold. He enjoyed them so much, and his entire body participated. Every muscle worked at them. I could even see his balls working in their sack. His stroking slowed, his pumps weakening. The last of his cream flowed out into a puddle on his stomach. He eased back, catching his breath and letting his cock soften in his hand.

Only then did I move, bending over and cleaning his cock for him, and then his stomach and further up his chest. Brad's legs released me, allowing me to continue my enjoyable task of cleaning his body of his juices. I lapped up the semen from his neck and chin, and then his face. Even his hair. And then my lips found his.

Brad's arms came around my back and held me close as we kissed. I could have gone on kissing him for hours, but he pushed me away. "You haven't cum yet."

"That's okay," I smiled down at him.

"No, it's not."

He pushed me back, bent himself forward, and sucked my cock into his mouth. Down it went until it was deep inside him. Up and down his head moved, and, before long, he was drinking down the semen from my own balls.

Brad pulled me into another kiss before we settled into bed beside each other. As I reached to turn out the lamp, Brad said, "Check the alarm." He pulled the blankets over us as I set the alarm and turned out the lamp.

Tomorrow, life would return to normal once again.

To Be Continued
 
The end of a wonderful Christmas for all the family !!
Oh! Those memories !!!
Tugging at the heartstrings again
Thank you Neil
You are a fantastic writer ..... we don't mind if you take some thinking time ..... not too long !!!

Harry
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part LV​

Terry returned to work on Wednesday morning, and so did I. I hated leaving Brad and the kids at home, but I had work to do and money to make. Sure, I was on salary now, so I could make my own hours, but there were some things I couldn't do from home. I was responsible for four people at home, but I was responsible for a lot more people at work.

Nancy showed up unexpectedly after supper that night. We were still cleaning up the kitchen, actually. As Brad finished up in the kitchen, Nancy and I went into the livingroom to talk with the kids. Of course, they regaled her with stories from Christmas and then insisted that she see all the toys and clothes they'd got. Of course, Jeremy had to show her Yoda, who had taken a place of honour on his dresser.

"My goodness," Nancy said. "It sure looks like you had a fun Christmas."

"It was the best!" Justin said, grinning.

"Better than best," Jeremy added. "Santa Claus knows we live here now."

"He won't forget us anymore," Justin said. "Daddy phoned him."

Nancy just looked at me and smiled.

"Boys?" I said. "Could you go out with Brad and Lindsay, please? I want to talk to Nancy."

"Okay, Daddy." They left the room.

"Is something wrong?" Nancy asked when they were gone.

"Not really," I assured her. "Just three little things I think you should know about."

Nancy's face was filled with concern until I smiled at her and held up my left hand. Her eyes opened wide and she looked up into my face again. "You're engaged?"

"Yes," I smiled.

"To Brad?"

"Yes," I grinned.

"To be married?"

"Yes," I laughed.

She took my totally by surprise when she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a great, big hug. "Oh! Congratulations!" And then she pulled away just as suddenly and smoothed down her jacket with sweeps of her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized with an embarrassed smile. "That wasn't very professional of me."

"I didn't mind a bit," I told her.

Her grin returned quickly enough, though. "That is such wonderful news!" she said. "I can't wait to tell Ron."

I turned serious. "Will this help me get the boys?"

"Well, Mr. de Villiers, it certainly won't hurt."

"What are my chances, Nancy?" I asked quietly. "I need to know."

"What do you mean, ‘what are your chances'?"

"You know, with Justin and Jeremy. What are my chances of getting them permanently?"

She looked rather shocked by my question. "I thought you understood the procedure."

"I do, but I thought this might be different."

"Why?"

"Well, me and Brad for one thing," I said. "You know, putting the boys in a gay household."

Nancy looked at the bed. "Can we sit down?"

"Sure," I said and led her to the bed. We sat down and faced each other on the diagonal.

"Your situation isn't any different than anyone else's, and the procedure hasn't changed for you. We place the children where we think they belong - where we think they are best suited. You're not an experiment, Mr. de Villiers. Nor are you a holding tank for the twins until we can find someplace better. They're here because we think this is the best place for them. And, from what I've seen since they moved in, it's the only place for them as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

"So, why can't I adopt them right now, then?" I asked.

"Policy, pure and simple," she replied. "This is how we do it for everyone. This six-month period isn't only for our benefit. It's for yours as well. And for the twins."

I nodded my understanding.

"For all intents and purposes, they are your sons, but the adoptions can't go through until the probation is up."

"Okay. Thank you." Oh, how I wanted to do cartwheels across the floor just then.

"Anything else I can help you with?"

"Well, we had a bit of an incident here on Christmas Day," I said. "Actually, that's a lie. It was a huge incident. Did you ever see pictures of the boys' father or his lover?"

Nancy shook her head. "No," she said.

"One of my best friends from college was here Christmas Day. Apparently he looks a lot like George."

"Who's George?" she asked.

"The man who murdered their father."

"Oh, Ted!" she said, bringing her fingers to her lips. She hadn't used my first name in a long time. "Don't tell me. . ."

I nodded. "They were petrified and so was I."

"I can imagine."

"How much do you know of their story?" I asked.

"Not much," she replied. "Only what I've been told. The boys were alone for two days until CAS moved in. Apparently their father was in the room with them all that time."

"Did you know that he was close enough to the playpen that the boys could touch his face?"

"Oh, my God," she said. Her hand covered her mouth as she shook her head back and forth. "How did they ever come out of that in one piece?"

"They're strong boys, Nancy. They got through it because they had each other."

"And when your friend showed up and the saw him, they must have thought. . . ." She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.

"Yes," I told her. "He was going to take me away from them, too."

"They seem alright now," she observed.

"Bill is something of a miracle worker," I told her. "He had everything smoothed out and they were calling him Uncle Bill by the time we ate Christmas dinner."

Again, she shook her head in disbelief. "Why did you tell me this?"

I shrugged. "I thought it best to tell you the bad as well as the good."

"Your candor is greatly appreciated, but I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"If you make a report on this visit," I told her, "put it in. I don't want anything coming back on me."

This time, Nancy's head shook up and down. "Okay, I will. Anything else?"

I thought, trying to remember if I left anything out. "No," I said finally. "I think that's just about it."

"Okay, then. Shall we join the others?" she asked. "Oh, and I'd like to see photos if you have them."

"Lots," I said with a proud, fatherly grin.

Brad set up the DVD player so we could see the photos on the television.

"Oh, that's new," she said, indicating the new television. She sat in the chair. I was sitting on the sofa. The kids knelt at the coffee table, waiting for the show to start.

"It's big!" Jeremy chimed in.

Brad sat beside me and took my hand in his, working the remote with his free hand. As the pictures flashed onto the screen, the boys busied themselves telling Nancy who everyone was.

"That's my Grandma and Grandpa Hayes," Justin said. "Grandpa's the man."

"That's Uncle Warren," Jeremy said.

"There's Uncle Bill. And that's Ouma and Oupa."

Nancy looked at me. "Ouma and Oupa?"

"Afrikaans for ‘Grandma and Grandpa'," I explained. "My Dad's an Afrikaaner from South Africa."

"So that's where they come from," she said. "They're German, aren't they?"

"Dutch," I said.

"Oh. You learn something new every day."

With the photo show finally finished, Brad took the twins in for their bath. Lindsay stayed in the livingroom at my request as I finished talking to Nancy in the kitchen.

"That was absolutely amazing," she said.

"I take it they've never really had a Christmas before?" I asked her.

She shook her head ‘no'. "The first year, they were still only two and don't remember much of it. The second year. . . well. . . there was no Christmas for them to remember."

"So, I guess I gave them one they'll remember for a long time."

"I'm sure they will, Mr. de Villiers. I must get going now, though," she said. "You have a family to take care of. I'll be back, though. If you have any problems, let me know."

"Just tell me what I have to do and when."

"You bet I will." A broad grin crossed her face. "I think I'll stop by Ron's tonight and tell him about you and Brad. I can't wait to see his face. He's going to be so excited!"

"Say ‘hi' to him for me."

* * * * *

I managed to take off a few hours early on Thursday and Friday so I could be home in time for the boys to wake up from their naps. Thursday afternoon, when I got home, Brad was already bundling them up to go outside. I helped him put on their snow suits, then I put on Justin's skates and Brad put on Jeremy's. I'd missed their first excursion on the backyard rink the day before, but Terry had gone out with Brad and filmed it for me. Brad wore his boots. The ice still wasn't thick enough for adults.

Justin was sitting on the floor. As I held Justin's foot between my legs, tying up his skate, he leaned forward with a big smile and whispered, "We have a secret, Daddy."

"What is it?" I whispered back.

"We can't tell you. It's a secret."

I looked at Brad. He just smiled at me and went back to tightening Jeremy's skates. Finally, with their pads and helmets on and their Maple Leaf jerseys pulled over their snow suits, we walked out to the rink. Brad stopped me at the small walk-through in the snowbank.

"Wait," he said. I stopped and he handed me the video camera. Brad picked up Jeremy and set him upright on the ice, then he picked up Justin and set him beside his brother. Justin took Jeremy's hand in his as Brad stepped back and stood beside me. "Start filming," he said.

I did.

"Okay, guys," he said to the twins. "Do your stuff!"

As I filmed, the boys began walking across the ice, and then they started to glide. Jeremy's feet went out from under him, pulling Justin down on top of him. I started forward, but Brad's arm on my chest stopped me. The boys got to their feet and started all over again. I moved around the rink to follow them with the camera. They fell down once more before they reached the other bank, but they just got back up and went on again. They slid right into the bank at the other end of the rink and did a face dive into the snow. I'm glad I got it on film, even if it was a bit jiggly from my laughing. It was funnier when I realized that's how I would have stopped as well.

"They don't know how to stop yet," Brad chuckled.

"Neither do I," I replied. My chuckle wasn't very convincing, I'm sure.

One more time, they got to their feet, turned around, and headed back to the other end. They only fell once coming back. Brad met them when they reached the opening, grabbed them both up in his arms and turned to face me. Three enormous smiles greeted me and the camera.

"We can skate, Daddy," Justin said.

"Good secret, huh?" Jeremy added.

I grabbed them into my own arms and hugged and kissed them. "The best secret ever!" I said.

After that, we all headed out onto the ice. Brad led Jeremy by the hand and Justin held mine as they skated along beside us.

* * * * *

New Years. Another long weekend lay ahead of us. Three more full days with Brad and the kids. Saturday morning, we all went out grocery shopping and spent the afternoon downstairs in the den with a nice, warm fire in the fireplace and hot chocolate for everyone. Brad, like the kids, enjoyed miniature marshmallows in his. I didn't. Too gooey for me.

Brad had set up the train set and the race car set to intertwine with each other. The boys could race their cars while the train travelled around the track. There were bridges Brad had made out of books for both tracks and tunnels made out of cardboard. The cars could go both over and under the trains. It was very inventive, and the boys loved it. Lindsay couldn't be bothered and sat there playing with one of the Gameboy systems for the most part.

The boys began to shag out, although they fought against a nap, but finally gave in to it. Brad pulled out their foam seat futon and down they went. Lindsay joined them after a time and Brad and I enjoyed the peace and the crackling fire and each other.

I ordered pizza for supper that night. None of us felt like cooking.

Sunday morning, New Years Day, we went for a drive. Nowhere in particular. Just east along the lake. We stopped in a small town called Brighton so everyone could use the bathroom at the gas station there. Thank goodness it was open. Nice little town, that. We took a little tour of Presqu'ile Provincial Park. It was all closed up for Winter, but it was a nice little drive. We would have to come back in Summer when it was open. The beach looked spectacular.

On the way out of the park, Brad punched my arm and pointed to my left. "Look!" he said urgently.

I glanced to my left and immediately pulled off the road and stopped the van. "Kids, look!" I said and pointed.

They looked out their windows. I could hear Lindsay unbuckling her seatbelt and glanced in the mirror as she crawled across the seats so she could see better.

"Oh!" one of the twins said. "Santa Claus!" It wasn't really Santa Claus. It was five white tailed deer standing at the edge of the trees no more than ten metres away. One buck and four does. The male stood sideways to us, his head lifted and turned to look at us as the does pawed away the snow. Great, white puffs of condensed air expelled from his nostrils.

We sat there for about five minutes until the deer went back into the trees and disappeared. No- one had said another word. We simply watched in awe. One car had pulled around us, but, as Lindsay buckled herself in again, I could see at least two other cars behind me, and they had been watching the same show. No-one had been in a hurry to leave. It was truly a magical moment, especially for the twins. They had seen Santa's reindeer.

From Brighton, we headed north through a few small towns to a place called Havelock and a highway I had driven before - that being Highway Seven. Ottawa lay to the right. I turned left. We were heading for Peterborough.

"Do you remember Neil's last name?" I asked Brad.

"No, but I put it in my phone," he said. "I'll find it." He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began going through his list. There weren't many numbers listed on it. "Here it is. Want to talk to him?"

"You can," I said. "Just ask if he's up to a bit of company for awhile."

Brad dialed and waited. "Hello, Neil? It's Brad. Remember me? . . . Yeah, that's me. . . . Pretty good, thanks. You? . . . Great. Look, we're out for a drive and we're on our way to Peterborough. We were wondering if you'd feel up to some company for awhile. Something we would like to show you. . . ." To me, he said, "He's putting coffee on." He spoke into the phone again. "Look, we didn't bring our map. We're just out driving. We're coming from Ottawa way just out of a place called Harvey or Havesomething. . . . Havelock, that's it. . . . Uh huh. . . . Okay, I'll call you then. Thanks. See you soon, eh? . . . Bye."

He flipped his phone closed. "I'm supposed to call him back when we hit the bypass turn-off."

"Okay, I know where that is." I continued driving. There was no hurry. We were taking our time and the kids were having fun watching Shrek, which they had been watching since we left Brighton. About thirty minutes later, we were driving into Peterborough. "The bypass is just up ahead."

Brad called Neil again. There were a few very long pauses in his conversation. "Hi, it's me again. We're almost at the bypass. . . Okay. Straight through, Ted. . . . Right, I see it. . . . We're over it now. . . . On the left? . . . Okay. . . . Yup, there it is. Right at the lights, Ted. . . . Oh, okay. We go straight until it turns into a one way. . . . Yeah, it was a great Christmas. How about you? . . . Oh, Sorry. . . . Yeah, school's good. I start back in again Tuesday. . . . Ha ha, yeah. . . . Okay, here's Water Street. We're on it now. . . . Okay. . . . Yup. I see it. . . . We're there now. . . . We just went through one. Two more lights, Ted, then left. . . . Okay, we just turned left. . . . Through the next lights then right at the ones after that. . . . Oh, yeah, I recognize it now. Okay, we can get there. See you in a minute. . . . Okay, bye."

"Well, that was easier than the last time," I told Brad. Fortunately, Shrek had finished half-way through Brad's phone call. As soon as I turned right, I knew where I was. I found the parking spot easily, and then we were out and on our way to the apartment. I carried Justin and Brad carried Jeremy.

"What was that ‘sorry' when you asked about his Christmas?" I asked.

"Oh." Brad leaned in to whisper in my ear, "he didn't have one."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. I'm not kidding."

"Damn. We should have called from home."

"Everything's closed, Ted. It wouldn't have mattered."

"We could have at least brought a card or something."

"Too late now."

It sure was. We were already there. As soon as I knocked on the apartment door, we could hear the dog barking, and then Neil's voice called out, "Sam!"

The door opened. Neil stood there, smiling. "Hi." Sam came out, still barking. As soon as she saw Lindsay, though, she stopped barking and her tail started wagging. "Oh," Neil said as he looked at the twins. "You've expanded. Come on in. Sam, come on. Sam!"

He stepped back and we walked around the dog and entered. Sam limped in after us in. The boys were looking at Neil, somewhat wide-eyed.

When he'd closed the door and turned toward us, I said, "These are my new sons, Justin here, and Jeremy."

"Well, hello there," he said, smiling.

"Are you Santa Claus?" Jeremy asked.

"We saw your reindeer," Justin added.

Neil laughed. "No, I'm not Santa. Wish I was, though. So, take off your coats and stay awhile." To me, he asked, "My reindeer?"

"Oh," I said, smiling. "We went to Presqu'ile Park and saw some deer in the woods."

"I grew up in Brighton," Neil said.

"Really?" I asked. "Nice little town."

"It was a lot smaller when I lived there. How did you end up in Peterborough?"

"Like Brad said," I explained, "we were just out driving. I didn't want to go back the same way, so I came north. When I hit Havelock, I knew where I was and decided to go back home through Peterborough. We took the chance you might be here."

"Your lucky day."

Justin whispered in my ear.

"Okay, just hold on a minute." Then, to Neil, I said, "Thank God for your bathroom." Fortunately, we'd put on their winter coats instead of their snow suits. It didn't take us long to get them out of their Winter gear. Brad took their coats and I took the boys to the bathroom. I was about to leave them alone when Jeremy said, "Stay, Daddy."

"Okay." I waited as they peed. Then out we went again. Lindsay was waiting. "No reading, Sweetheart," I told her.

"Okay, Daddy."

I joined Neil and Brad in the livingroom. Brad was seated on the sofa. Sam was lying on her bed again and Neil sat in his computer chair. CFMX was playing on the stereo. The air was filled with the scent of pine. Little had changed from our last visit except that a tiny, artificial tree sat on a small stand beside the bookcase just inside the door. When I say tiny, I mean tiny. The little tree was less than a half-metre high and sparsely decorated. The faerie lights were turned on.

To its left, though, was something truly wonderful. I recognized the work. It was more plastic canvas, and it was a miniature North Pole with Santa's workshop and a number of other buildings. Trees and small figurines were spread throughout the village.. The entire village was set upon cotton batting snow and more faerie lights poked through, lighting it up. It was really quite enchanting.

"Daddy, stop!" Justin said as I passed. I turned so they could see.

Brad came to join us. "Look," he said as he pointed. There's the reindeer's house, and there's Santa's house. Here's a candy shop, and a post office, and a gift shop." He looked at Neil as Lindsay joined us as well. "Wow. Did you make this, too?"

Neil nodded. "Yes," he said. "For Mom. I got that back, too."

"Oh, Daddy," Lindsay said. "Can I make one like this?"

"I'll have to try to find the pattern book, Sweetheart."

"What a coincidence," Neil said. "I just happen to have it here." He pushed himself out of the chair, walked to the bookshelf, and pulled a pile of pattern books from the bottom shelf. He found the village book and set it on top, then handed them all to Lindsay. "Take whichever ones you want. I don't use them anymore."

I looked at the stack. "I'll buy the book for you later, Sweetheart," I told her. "We can't take these."

"I won't use them again, Ted," Neil said. "She can have them. I dug them out for her in case you came back."

I looked into his face. His nod was barely noticeable. "Okay," I said. "Thanks. Sweetheart?"

"Thank you," she said politely.

"You're welcome." He moved to a shelf beneath the televison and picked a small wooden box about the size of a boy's shoe box. "I can't let the twins go home without something. Here." He handed the box to Brad.

Brad opened it. Inside was a collection of playing cards and dice and a number of wooden games and puzzles.

"Now, hold on," I said. "We can't accept all this stuff."

Jeremy whispered loudly to Justin. "He really is Santa Claus!"

"There, you see?" Neil said with a grin. "How can you turn down a gift from Santa Claus? Besides, I got those about six years ago. I opened the box once and looked inside. This is the second time I've seen what's inside. The kids can have them."

I looked at the boys, their faces all full of smiles and twinkling eyes. All I could do was smile and shake my head. "Thank you," I told our friend.

"Shall I get the coffee?" Brad asked as he set the box on the coffee table.

"If you wish," Neil said. "I only set out one glass for Lindsay. There are others in the corner cupboard. There's milk or iced tea or. . . hey, do the kids like Root Beer floats?"

"I don't know," I said.

"What are they?" Brad asked.

"Root Beer and ice cream."

"Me! Me!" Lindsay shouted. Sam started barking.

"Lindsay!" I said.

"Sam!" Neil said.

"Sorry, Daddy," she said. "Yes, please."

Justin turned to Neil. "Yes, please."

"I don't know how to make them," Brad said.

"I'll explain it to you," Neil replied. "It's easy. Make yourselves at home. We'll be right back."

As Brad left with Neil, Brad said quietly to him, "I'll do everything. Just tell me how."

"Thanks," Neil said. I didn't know what caused his nervous condition, but I suspect it had something to do with his back condition. Maybe some day I'd ask him.

I took the boys to the sofa and sat down with them. Lindsay sat near the dog and began looking through her pattern books.

I felt so horrible. After the Christmas we had just enjoyed and this man. . . I couldn't imagine being alone at Christmas. Through the doorway, I heard cupboard doors closing, glasses tinkling, pop bottles being opened.

Neil returned a short time later and took his seat at the computer. "So, tell me about the twins."

I explained the adoption to him. "They'll be all mine in May."

"That's wonderful," he said. "Quite the family now."

"Sure is."

"And did I see a ring on Brad's finger?" he asked. I held up my own hand to show him. "Well, more congratulations are in order, eh?"

"Thank you. How have you been keeping?"

"Pretty good," he said. "Don't get out much in this weather unless they sand the walks."

"Must be tough walking for you."

He smiled. "Snow sure doesn't make it any easier."

Brad came in with three mason jar glasses with handles filled with Root Beer and ice cream. A large straw was stuck in each glass. He handed them out to the kids, then went back for the coffees. The kids took a tentative sip, and then some serious straw sucking began. Apparently they liked them.

"Good?" I asked the twins.

"Mmmmm!" they hummed in unison.

Brad returned with a coffee for me and himself. Neil, of course, had nothing to drink, as I expected. His hands still shook. Brad made one more trip to the kitchen and returned with a plate of home-baked cookies and treats and buttered banana bread and a handful of napkins. He held the plate out to Lindsay. Sam's head perked up immediately.

"Can Sam have a treat?" Lindsay asked.

"Only the cookies," Neil said, "and none with chocolate chips".

"Okay." Lindsay took a few cookies and a slice of banana bread.

As Brad sat beside me, Jeremy climbed out of my lap and into Brad's.

"Are those what I think they are?" I asked as I pointed at the plate.

"If you're thinking date squares, you're right," Neil answered.

I took one as Justin and Jeremy stocked up on cookies. I took a bite. I loved date squares, but these were excellent. "Wow," I said. "You made these?"

"Yes," Neil said.

"The dates taste. . . different," I said.

"Probably the lemon juice," he said. "Want the recipe?"

"Are they hard to make?" Brad asked.

"Toughest part is snipping the dates into little pieces."

"Can you use, like, a blender or something?"

"Nope. A knife or a scissor. I'll print it off for you."

"You got the recipe for this banana bread there, too?" Brad asked. "This is seriously tasty."

"Sure," Neil smiled. He uncovered his printer, then began clicking the mouse, calling up the program where his recipes were stored. Moments later, he leaned forward to place the printed recipes on the coffee table.

"Thanks," I said.

"My pleasure. So, do you kids like the Root Beer floats?"

"It's good!" Lindsay said.

"Think you can make them again?" I asked Brad.

"Ice cream and Root Beer. I think I can handle it," he chuckled. "We'll need straws."

"Right," I told him. "Leave me the part that costs money."

"Taste, Daddy," Justin said as he held out his glass. I took a sip.

"Mmmm," I said. "Tasty. Bet they're good on a hot Summer day."

"Oh, yes," Neil said. "My one extravagance."

We chatted then about nothing in particular for awhile. The kids talked about Christmas Day as they finished their drinks and treats. Lindsay had joined us on the sofa. I was concerned that the stories might make Neil even more lonely, but he listened to and enjoyed every single word. Eventually, the boys curled up against our chests and I knew they were getting tired.

"Guess we should get going before they fall asleep on us." I rose to my feet.

"I'll get a bag for the books," Neil said and rose out of his chair. He went to the doorway of the kitchen and pulled a plastic grocery bag out of a bag hanging on the wall there. He brought it back to Lindsay. "Here you go." He held the bag open for her.

"Thank you," Lindsay replied as she placed the books inside.

"You're welcome." He set the bag on the floor and looked at me. "I'll be right back."

As we began dressing the boys, Neil disappeared into the kitchen again. By the time we were putting on the boys' boots and mitts, he returned with a loaf of frozen banana bread and a plastic freezer bag full of cookies and date squares.

"Oh, come on, Neil," I said. "We can't take those, too."

"I'm sure you can if you try," he said, smiling. He put the treats into the bag atop the books and recipes. "Enjoy."

Lindsay picked up the bag. "Oooo," she said. "It's heavy." She looked up at him. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Thank you for stopping by."

"It was our pleasure," I told him. "We'll be back. I've got two little boys who haven't seen your zoo yet."

"I'll look forward to it," he said.

I fell silent for a moment, thinking and trying to find the right words. "Look, I know you have difficulties and everything, but would you like to come to our wedding?"

"I'd love to, Ted, but I'm afraid it would be out of the question for me."

I nodded. "I understand. I'll make sure you see the pictures."

"I'd like that."

"Okay, gang," I said. "What do you say?"

"Thank you," three young voices chimed.

"Thanks, Neil," Brad said as he picked up the wooden box.

"Yes, thank you," I added.

"You're all very welcome."

"We'll see you again soon," I said. I didn't tell him we wouldn't be coming empty-handed next time.

The boys were asleep in the van before the opening credits of Shrek 2 were finished.

* * * * *

Monday officially brought an end to the holiday season in the de Villiers household. The decorations were all taken down and the tree was carted to the curb to be picked up by the city and turned into compost and wood chips. Except for the lights outside, which would remain until warmer weather, all traces of Christmas was packed away for another year.

The new year was beginning with a bang. It was, I felt, the best year I was going to have. It was almost assured that the kids were mine. All I had to do was wait. Everyone was happy and getting along well. Lindsay was a great big sister and the twins were great little brothers who looked up to her in more ways than one.

Everything was wonderful until that day in mid-January.

I was talking to JW in my office when the phone rang at work and I picked it up. Ted de Vil. . ." I didn't get to finish.

"Mr. Dee!" It was Terry, and she was extremely panicked. The mere tone of her voice sent a shockwave of fear through me. In the background, I could hear the boys screaming hysterically, even worse than when they had seen Bill on Christmas Day. "Hurry!" she yelled.

"Terry! Terry!! What's going on!?" I shouted into the phone. My heart was racing.

"Get home! Hurry!!" she shouted, and then, "Lindsay! No!!" There was a loud clunk and all I heard was the terrified screams of my boys and banging on glass. Terry's voice sounded far away: "Get away from the door!"

I was on my feet, shouting into the phone. "Terry! Terry!!" I waited, my lungs sucking in air as fast as they could. "Damn it, Terry!! What's happening!!" Nothing. I slammed the phone down. "Oh, God," I said as I ran out the office door.

"Ted!?" JW called after me.

"I don't know!" I shouted without stopping and without looking back. I didn't even stop for my coat. I was gone.

I broke a lot of speed limits getting home. In record time, I was peeling into my driveway and slamming on the brakes. A young lady was standing at the door, ringing the doorbell. I'd never seen her before, but she looked eerily familiar.

When she saw me getting out of the car and running toward her, she stopped ringing the bell and turned toward me.

"What's going on here!?" I shouted.

"I'm Cindy Johnson," the young woman said calmly. "I'm here to get my sons."

To Be Continued

(Yet another 'delayed' cliffhanger for you. The conclusion will by posted on Friday morning. My apologies for the delay, but, at the moment, it can't be helped. There is a bit of reality in this. Here in Canada, once Christmas and New Year are finished, things more or less grind to a halt. Nothing happens until Spring arrives, and I have to figure out how to make 3 months of 'nothing' sound exciting. Thanks for understanding. - Neil)
 
Neil, your serialized novel is one hell of a ride! Of course, I'd give you kudos just for being able to correctly number all the chapters with Roman numerals! :badgrin:
 
ComNavFdgPk said:
Of course, I'd give you kudos just for being able to correctly number all the chapters with Roman numerals! :badgrin:

Thank you, Commander, but I shall remind you of the opening paragraph of Chapter XXXXIX:

"You know what? I'm so stupid sometimes. I mean, I've been using Roman Numerals all my life and I just now realized I've been doing all the ‘forties' wrong. Like this chapter. It should be ‘XLIX' for ‘forty-nine'. I noticed it a few chapters back when I printed it up I was going to change it all, but I don't think anyone is reading this story for the Roman Numerals. I doubt if anyone will even notice. (Well, you'll notice now that I've told you.)"
 
Yes you did warn us of more cliffhanger(s) to come!!
This one has come with a vengeance!!
Whatever can Ted do now ???
Thanks Neil. I loved your little self portrait
Peace & Love

Harry
 
Well I am on page 18 of this post enjoying Justin and Jeremy. Thank you Neil, and my fellow Jubbers who is reading this story. You make this so enjoyable. You don't know how much. You can't even imagine how much ya'll touched me.
I can't hold back the tears from what I read thus far. Ya'll are much ahead of me in the story. That's ok. I'll catch up soon. I just want to say... I love you all! Have a good evening. ..| :D :cry: :D :-) :cry: Love you.
 
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