WATCHING BRAD
Part 131
The twins spent the better part of the next week telling anyone and everyone about their weekend in Toronto. That included the postman (they caught him twice!), Mark, the plumber who came to fix a dripping faucet in the kitchen, and two Jehovah's Witnesses who made the mistake of knocking on our door.
The boys had awakened that Monday morning in June refreshed and full of energy and had come bounding into our bedroom and onto our bed, and then onto us, without the prerequisite knock. They apologized after I had told them they were to wake us up first, but I couldn't be angry. Well, perhaps a little bit. In their excitement, they had neglected their bathrobes and had run the full length of the house in their underwear. But their hugs and kisses of thanks quickly made up for the sudden intrusion and the cotton-covered bums. Brad and I had hugged and kissed them back, then sent them on their way to their room to retrieve their bathrobes and to put them on.
Brad spent the day with them, transferring all the photos from our trip to the computer and then to disk so we could see them later on the television. He even printed off a few of their favourite photos for them to keep. They all included ponies.
I returned to work, still exhausted from the weekend, but with a very happy smile on my face. Life was good. My best friend was alive and well (or, at least, getting there), my ex-wife seemed to have changed for the better, Mom and Dad were happily ensconced in their new home, my kids were happy, Brad was - well - Brad, my health was quickly returning and there had been no more signs of anxiety, and I was back at work making money again so I could keep it all together.
Monday evening, I arrived home to news that Brook had sent us an Email. I took a quick moment to glance through it, but I waited until the kids were in bed before Brad and I sat down to give it some serious attention and to respond to it.
We sat side-by-side at the computer desk to read it:
Dearest Brad and Ted
I must thank you for a most enjoyable evening last Saturday night. It was truly a pleasure to have met you both. Especially you, Brad. The power of your body is greatly overshadowed by the gentleness and kindness of your spirit. When one looks beyond the beauty on the outside, one sees much more beauty and strength on the inside. And Ted, you are extremely lucky to have discovered such a gem.
I consider it a great honour to have had the opportunity to sing for you and it was, indeed, a great pleasure for me to have done so. When I watched you on the dance floor together, I saw all of my dreams and aspirations there before me. Perhaps one day I shall find a love as deep and sincere as the one you have found together. It gives me hope for my own future.
I do hope we can get together again at some point. I would truly enjoy the opportunity to get to know both of you better. If the opportunity arises for you to come into the city again for a weekend, please know that you are most welcome to stay in my home. The guestroom bed is only a twin, but I am quite certain the two of you would find it to be quite comfortable and cozy, and the mattress doesn't squeak.
Your friend always,
Brook
I finished reading the Email and sat back in the chair, staring at the screen and the words printed there.
"I want Brook to sing at our wedding," Brad said bluntly, but with a great deal of reservation in his voice, as if he already knew what my response would be.
I should have been upset that Brad had made such a decision without discussing it with me. At least, I
would have been upset a few weeks ago. He expected me to say ‘no'. I almost always said ‘no'. Brad often made good suggestions and had good ideas, but I rarely liked them because I hadn't thought of them myself. Things had changed with me, though. I think it happened the moment Brad had told me to go fuck myself in Dr. Davis' office that day. Until that moment, I hadn't realized how one-sided our relationship had been - how demanding I was, how over-bearing. Throughout my married life, I had been the ‘Boss Dude' of my family. I worked hard and I made the money to support them. I solved all of the problems and everyone did what I told them to do and what I wanted to do. I made all the decisions.
I had followed the same rules with Brad, and they didn't work. He was willing to leave me because of it. He had changed so much to be with me. He had tried to accommodate me. Yet, all I had done was to treat him as a maid, a servant, a cook, a baby sitter, and a hunk of meat that I could do with as I wanted. Even our sex was according to my schedule. If I didn't want it, Brad didn't get it. I hadn't tried to accommodate Brad at all. It was still
my house,
my car,
my kids. If Brad hadn't taken a stand against me and made me realize what I had been doing, I believe our relationship and our wedding would have been doomed before it even began. I had changed. Before, I was thinking only ‘me'. Now I was thinking ‘us'.
I suppose that's why I hadn't been surprised or hadn't become upset when Brad told me he wanted to adopt the boys after we were married. They were my sons, and they always would be, but Brad would also be my husband. And that made the boys as much his as they were mine. It was our car and our house. Everything was ours now. They were no-longer mine alone.
And this was our wedding, and Brad wanted our new friend to sing for us there.
"That's a good idea," I said. "Let's call and ask him."
Brad looked surprised and more than a little bit dumbfounded. "No objections? No arguments?"
I shook my head. "Nope. If that's what you want, that's what we'll do."
Brad stared at me for a long while. His eyes squinted as if he were trying to see inside my mind, and then they opened again as he sat back, let out a quick breath of air, and said, "You've changed, Ted."
"How do you mean?"
"Ever since you had your. . . um. . . you know, since you got sick, you've been different."
"How so?" I knew I'd changed. I wanted to know how Brad felt that I had changed.
"Well, until awhile ago, you were terrified that the twins would see me naked, and now I'm taking baths with them. We make breakfast and cook dinner together, and you never would have let me drive the van home from Toronto like you did last night, especially with the kids in it. You're even letting me make decisions now, like wanting to adopt the boys. You didn't even question it. You just said it was okay with you."
I smiled at him and chuckled lightly. "Don't take this the wrong way, Brad," I began, "but I suddenly realized that, after we're married, you aren't going to be my wife. You're going to be my husband, and that's a big difference which I didn't understand until a few weeks ago. There will be two fathers in this family now instead of a father and a mother, and you're going to be doing fatherly things like working and providing for the family instead of sitting around the house being a housewife."
Brad still looked confused. Rather, I should say, he looked somewhat stunned. "This relationship isn't all about me, Tiger. This is
your home now, and it's
your family. It's not just mine anymore."
"But the kids are yours," Brad said. "Wanting to adopt the twins was just wishful thinking on my part. I would never presume to take that away from you."
I turned in my chair so I could take Brad's hands in my own. "If you were a woman, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. Everything would have been assumed. But you're a man, and I'm marrying you. I have to accept that it's not going to be the same as before. I have to adapt. There are two of us doing the same job now. There are two of us making the decisions. Two of us sharing the load. You want to have Brook sing at our wedding. I don't mind that, so why not?"
"But I should have asked first."
"You did, Brad. You said you wanted him to sing and I said okay. It was your idea, but we made the decision together. I'm going to do my best to make sure that's how it is from now on. We make decisions together."
"But I still think of you as the. . . um. . . what do they call it? The father figure? The leader?"
"Patriarch?"
"Yeah, that's it." Brad squeezed my hands, rubbing his thumbs tenderly across the backs of them. "I want to be a father, Ted, but you've got the experience. I suppose I want to be a background father. We can make decisions together, but when it comes to important decisions, I don't think I can make them, and I don't know enough to even offer input."
He looked down at the floor between his legs for a moment, then looked back up into my eyes once more. "I'm not explaining myself very well, am I?" He paused a moment, closing his eyes to think. I waited patiently. His eyes opened finally and he spoke. "I guess what I'm saying is that I need you to be the father, Ted. I'll be happy enough just being married to you and being your husband and a second-banana father to the kids. That's all I want."
"I think I can live with that," I told him. "You might have to remind me of it from time to time."
Brad clutched my hands in his as he leaned forward to kiss me. When we separated again, I looked into his lovely green eyes once more. His lips parted to give me his beloved and familiar chipped-tooth smile.
"Since I made the decision myself, would you like me to tell you where we're going on our honeymoon?" I asked.
Brad's smile split into a wide grin. "No," he replied. "
That is one surprise I want you to keep secret."
We held each other's gaze for a long time, and then I said softly, "I love you so much, Bradley Nelson Hayes."
"And I love you so much more, Francis Theodore de Villiers."
We kissed again - for a very long time.
* * * * *
We telephoned Brook, holding the phone between us so we could both hear and speak to him.
"Hi, Brook," I said when he answered his ringing telephone. "It's Ted and Brad. We're both listening. We just read your Email."
"Well, hello!" he said, sounding pleasantly surprised, but his voice was still deep and lilting. "You didn't have to phone me. You could have Emailed me back." Away from the phone, he spoke to someone else. "It's Ted and Brad. The guys from the lounge?
Unchained Melody?"
"Hi, guys!" a faraway voice said.
To us, Brook continued. "That's Peter. The piano player from the lounge."
"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't know you had company. We can call back later."
"Nonsense! We're just sitting here, talking. Peter's here most of the time when he's not at the lounge playing. He'd rather be bored with me than being bored all by himself. So, how was the rest of your weekend?"
"Wonderful, but exhausting," I replied. "We took the kids to Centreville on Sunday."
"Message understood," Brook said in his deep, mellow voice. "I hope I get to meet the children someday. They sound absolutely delightful."
"You will," I told him. "Any time you want to come down for a visit, let us know. We're only five minutes away from the GO station. We can pick you up."
"I look forward to it."
We thanked Brook for making our night in Toronto so special and commended him on his beautiful singing voice.
"Aw, shucks," he said in mock modesty. Then, more seriously, he added, "Thank you."
I glanced at Brad and nodded, letting him know that he could ask the question.
"Brook," he said, "would you come sing for us at our wedding? We'd like it if you would."
"Are you serious?" Brook asked.
"Of course we're serious," I answered him. "You're a wonderful singer and we'd be honoured if you would sing for us. The wedding is on July Fifteenth. Think you can make it?"
"My weekends are my own," Brook said. "If you really want me to be there, I'll be there, but I don't think I'm as good as
you seem to think I am."
"You do the Righteous Brothers proud," I told him.
"What about Peter?" Brad asked suddenly. "The church organist said he'd play for us, but I think it would be nice to have Peter play instead. Can he play a church organ?"
"Hold on. I'll ask."
Brook covered the mouthpiece with his hand. We could hear mumbling voices, but couldn't make out any of the words. Moments later, Brook came back on the line. "What time is the wedding?"
"Two o'clock," I told him.
"Then he would be happy to oblige. All he needs is a song list."
"What's his going rate?" I asked.
"Peter doesn't charge friends," Brook answered.
"We're hardly his friends," I said. "We haven't even met him yet."
"You're
my friends," Brook replied. "That makes you
his friends, too. We'll both be there."
We chatted for fifteen minutes or so before hanging up the telephone and getting ready for bed. We were still trying to catch up from our weekend in Toronto.
* * * * *
Tuesday morning, Brad took the twins with him and drove to Mom's home so he could take the photos he needed for his garden design. He spent Tuesday afternoon and most of the evening designing Mom's front garden. On Wednesday, he returned with the boys so Mom could make her final decision on which plan she liked most. She couldn't decide between the two, so Brad left a printed copy of both designs so she and Dad could discuss them. They would tell him of their decision when they made it. Brad assured them that both designs were within the budget they'd set for him.
Wednesday afternoon, as I parked in the driveway after work and stepped out of the car, Lindsay came tearing out of the house and down the walk toward me, waving a piece of paper in her hand. The twins came running out after her.
The way Lindsay was running, I knew I was going to have my arms full of little girl very soon. I reached down to catch her and lifted her up. She sat on my left forearm, her right arm around my neck and her other hand dangling the piece of paper in front of my face.
"What's this, Sweetheart?" I asked as the twins finally reached us and wrapped their arms around one leg each. They would have to wait their turn to be picked up.
"Soccer camp," Lindsay replied. "Can I go?"
"Can we go, too?" the twins asked in unison.
"Let's all go inside and have a look at this, okay?"
The twins released my legs and ran back toward the door. I set Lindsay onto the ground and held her hand as we walked along the walk to the house. Brad met us half way and gave me a kiss. He held my other hand as we continued on into the house. A minute later, with the twins sitting in our laps at the table and Lindsay sitting in her own chair, we read through the information sheet together.
"There's a website," Brad said. "We can look it up after dinner and see what it's all about."
With that decided, we chased the kids into the livingroom to watch television as Brad and I set about making dinner.
After dinner and the dishes were finished, we all gathered in the bedroom around the computer. Brad sat in the chair as Lindsay stood beside him. I stood just behind him, holding Justin in my arms.
Of course, Jeremy climbed into Brad's lap as soon as his butt hit the cushioned seat, spreading his legs wide to straddle Brad's legs and settling back against his big friend's chest. Jeremy bent his arms, his tiny hands clinging to Brad's biceps. I was somewhat surprised at how small his hands were in comparison to Brad's arms. When Jeremy was comfortably in place, he twisted his head around and tilted it back so he could look up into Brad's face. His lips puckered, waiting, and Brad bent his head down to give him a quick kiss. That's all there was to it. They sat there, staring at each other for a moment, and the sweetest smile crossed Jeremy's lips as the love flowed between them.
I wasn't jealous of that love. Envious, perhaps, but certainly not jealous. From the moment the boys had moved in with us, Justin clearly had laid claim to me. When he was finished with me, Jeremy could have me, but, as long as Justin wanted me, even when it was just the three of us, Jeremy had to take the back seat to his brother. I know it's not proper to play favourites with children, but, in the twins' case, they had set up the rules themselves and Brad and I had to play according to them. There was a bond between myself and Jeremy, but it was nothing compared to the bond between Jeremy and Brad. I was his father, but Brad was definitely his best friend.
And so, with that little display of love between them, Jeremy turned his attention back to the computer monitor and settled his head back against Brad's chest and watched.
Brad quickly found the website online and began surfing it. Run by the Royal City Soccer Club, there were chapters all over southern and south-central Ontario with a chapter being run out of Oshawa. Very convenient for us. There were, as we quickly discovered, three different weekly sessions running throughout July and August - full days, mornings, and afternoons. There was formal training only during the full-day and morning sessions. There were no lessons during the afternoon sessions - only playing the game under supervision.
I watched Lindsay carefully as Brad read from the screen, and I could see her eyes glued to the screen as well, scanning the words and photos there. I knew she played soccer during recess at school, although she wasn't really on any team there, and I knew she enjoyed it almost as much as she enjoyed playing badminton.
Brad found the page listing the fees and read them to us: $130 per week for the full-day sessions. Lindsay's head turned to find me standing behind her. She looked up at me, hope in her eyes as she asked softly, "Is that too much money, Daddy?"
"It's a lot, Sweetheart," I told her.
I knew the twins wouldn't be able to handle the full-day sessions and the fee for the morning sessions was $85 each per week. Justin was bouncing in my arms with excitement and Jeremy was squirming wildly in Brad's lap, pointing at the screen and squealing his high-pitched squeals. Three hundred bucks a week for soccer camp. I'd find the money somehow.
"We can register them right now," Brad said. "There's online registration."
"Please, Daddy?" Lindsay asked excitedly.
"Can we go, Daddy?" the twins cried.
I looked from each anxious face to the other, and finally to Brad, who was looking at me, waiting. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sign them up," I said.
* * * * *
"It's going to be tight, Brad," I said to him later on as we lay in bed after our lovemaking.
"I should be starting your Mom's garden next week," Brad said. "I can help pay."
"That's
your money, Brad," I reminded him.
"Not anymore," he replied. "It's
our money. If I'm going to be a father, I might as well start practicing now. I don't have to wait until I have that ring on my finger before I become responsible."
We hugged and kissed for a long time after that before we finally settled in for sleep.
* * * * *
Thursday night, after the twins were in bed and asleep, Dad phoned, wanting to talk to both of us. Brad went to the bedroom to get on the extension.
"There is to be an estate auction near here at the weekend," Dad told us. "There is a 1998 Chevrolet Ventura to be sold. It would be ideal for Bradley to transport his landscaping supplies if he removes the benches. They are not fold-down like the newer model vehicles. It requires new brakes and a new battery and fluids, but there are only eighty-two thousand kilometres."
"Cool," Brad said.
"My neighbour, two houses removed, is a mechanic," Dad continued. "He knows the vehicle and maintained it whilst the owner was still alive. He believes there will be little interest in it due to the fact that it is not currently in running order. As he put it, ‘you should get it for a song'. It will not cost much for the necessary repairs."
There was a short pause before I asked, "What do you think, Brad?"
"Sounds good," he replied. "I'll phone Dad tonight and talk to him about it. See if he'll buy it for me."
"If money is an issue. . ." my Dad said.
"No," Brad interrupted quickly, "it's not a problem. Thanks anyway."
Over the next few minutes, it was decided that we would drive to Maple Grove on Friday evening and go with Dad to see the van and make a decision whether or not we would try to buy it. Brad said he'd invite his Mom and Dad along. His mother could visit with my Mom and Lindsay and ‘the guys' could go car shopping.
"Come for dinner, then, my Sonskyns," Dad said. "Mother has been anxious to inaugurate the new dining room table."
"Sounds good," I replied. "Brad?"
"I can taste it now," he said. "Will she be making a Trifle?"
"If you wish," Dad answered.
"Oh, yeah. I wish!"
"Then it shall be so."
We were saying our ‘goodbyes' when Mom's voice rang out in the background, "Jan! The children!"
"Oh, yes," he said. "Mother wishes the children to stay throughout the weekend, Theodore. She has been very busy decorating and furnishing them. You may, of course, stay if you wish."
"And miss the chance at a weekend off?" I laughed. "You've got to be kidding, Dad."
"I do not ‘kid', Theodore," Dad replied. "I ‘jest'."
"Yawn the Yester," Brad joked phonetically.
I laughed, but Dad didn't. "Your young friend requires discipline, Theodore."
Brad immediately apologized, but I had heard the humour in Dad's voice and I knew that he was sitting there, smiling to himself at Brad's expense.
I promised Dad I'd phone in the morning after we'd had a chance to talk to the kids at breakfast, and then we hung up.
Brad rejoined me in the livingroom and phoned his father. They would be happy to go with us. I didn't expect any objections from the children. They had been waiting eagerly for their rooms to be ready so they could go.
Brad and I made love again that night - the second night in a row. Rather, I should say, Brad made love to me at my request. I lay on my back, as usual, with my legs pulled up and locked behind Brad's powerful arms as he fucked me. I love that position. I can see the pleasure in his face and I can see his body working to bring him that pleasure. It's easier to kiss me in that position as well.
Most of all, though, I love watching him having an orgasm. His face tells so many stories in those few, short moments, and they are stories I can listen to and see over and over again. Brad has beautiful orgasms.
I spooned my back against him that night and he held me in his arms. His skin was still moist from his exertions, and a strong scent of sex emanated from him, but that only made falling asleep much easier and the dreams which accompanied the sleep much more pleasant.
To Be Continued
Although everything has been said, some bear repeating. It was a great chapter. Keep writing, Neil. I can hardly wait for Wednesday to see what follows their fantastic weekend. Vic
!
