Watching Brad

[walkabout]

Cannot believe you caught up with 177 chapters in 2 days... I'm amazed...

ye well i am kinda used to reading fast ....comes through practice being a law student i must say :>

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 178​

"Daddy?"

The soft voice was very familiar to me, as was the warm hand which was gently shaking my shoulder. I knew at once who it was and came immediately awake, rolling away from Brad and onto my right elbow. I could see that the overhead lamp in the hall had been turned on and its light flooded though the bedroom door and illuminated my daughter in its harsh glow.

"Lindsay?" I asked anxiously but quietly so as not to wake up Brad. "What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

"I can't sleep," she replied, her voice almost as quiet as the night.

Of course, I knew immediately what her problem was. Daniel.

"Ted?" came the voice behind me. "Is everything okay?"

Speaking over my left shoulder, I replied to Brad's query, "Just a case of the jitters. I'll go sit with her for awhile until she goes to sleep. She'll be fine."

I sent Lindsay back to her room so I could get dressed, slid out of bed and into my bathrobe, and kissed Brad ‘goodnight' one more time. "Don't wait up for me, Tiger. It might take awhile to get her settled down." I kissed him again and headed out into the hall toward Lindsay's room. I could see her bedroom light was on, so I switched off the overhead in the hall and entered her room. She was there, sitting on the side of the bed, waiting for me. The moment I sat down on the bed beside her, she crawled into my lap and curled up against me, her right arm around my chest and her left arm dangling at her side. She rested her left cheek against my chest. My little girl was growing up, but I couldn't help but notice the ‘Mr. Bubble' smell which still lingered on her skin from her bath.

When Lindsay was just a baby and seemingly so small that I could hold her in the palm of my hand, she was prone to colic and, for five days during her third week of life, many anxious hours were spent and many doses of gripe water were administered in our attempts to calm her almost-constant crying. Connie cared for her during the day whilst I was at work, but I took over for her when I got home and cared for Lindsay so Connie could grab a few hours sleep and take over again for me during the night That allowed me to grab a few hours of sleep before getting up so I could go back to work again in the morning. We thought it would never end, and I don't know how we managed to get through it, but suddenly it ended on the fifth day just as abruptly as it has started. Lindsay had a few more episodes of colic during the next few weeks, but, fortunately, they were never as intense or lengthy as that original episode.

Upon reflection, I firmly believe that it bonded us more firmly as a family, as did her teething which followed shortly thereafter. Many were the hours I sat in Grandma de Villiers rocking chair with Lindsay curled up in my lap and chewing on my little finger which I'd dipped into oil of cloves as I hugged her and rocked her back and forth and told her every fairy tale I could remember over and over again. She had her teething rings and frozen bananas and apple wedges, but, when I was home and holding her, the only thing which soothed her was my baby finger.

I enjoyed those times I spent with her way back then, and, that night, as I sat on her bed with her, my mind was swept back to that time in her life when she was so fragile and so dependent on me for everything. She still was, of course, but she was growing up with frightening speed and would be becoming less and less dependent upon me. I've often wondered if the twins had anything to do with her burst of maturity. Suddenly she was a ‘big sister' to them and that seemed to have changed her in more ways than I had thought it might. She suddenly had people who were depending upon her. She was also at the age when puberty could kick in at any moment. Perhaps it was giving her a hint of what was to come in her life - growing up, boyfriends, and much, much more.

I knew this moment would eventually come. I'd bought the ticket the instant Lindsay had born. I just wasn't expected to hop on the bus for another few years yet.

I hugged her close, but gently, and nuzzled my face into her hair, kissing her tenderly and hugging her some more. I waited for her to speak, but several minutes passed in silence and she didn't say a word, so it was up to me to break the ice.

"You're pretty excited about tomorrow, aren't you?" I asked.

Her cheek rubbed against my chest as her head bobbed slightly up and down.

"Well, just relax, Sweetheart. It's going to be sunny and warm tomorrow and everything's going to be just perfect. And no hockey puck hamburgers."

Lindsay tensed up and lifted her head to look up at me. "You heard that?"

I smiled my best smile and nodded. "Yes, I did."

"Sorry, Daddy."

"That's okay, Sweetheart," I said as I gave her a reassuring snuggle. "I know I'm not a very good cook. And, if you want to know the truth, I really like Uncle Nathan's hamburgers, too."

She relaxed once more and settled herself against me again as my hand moved to her back and came to rest there. My thumb drew small, tender circles on her nightgown for a few long moments before I reached behind me for her pillow and propped it up against the headboard of Lindsay's bed. I swung my legs up onto the mattress and, as one, my daughter and I slumped back into pillow. It was all exceedingly comfy and warm.

I had expected to just lie there and hold Lindsay until she fell asleep, but she was quiet for only a minute or two when she asked, "Daddy, why did you marry Brad?"

This question came right out of the dark and caught me completely by surprise. I racked my brain trying to find an answer for her and gave her the only one which came into my mind: "Well, Sweetheart. I suppose I married him because I like him very much and I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

"Like you did with Mommy?"

It was my turn to tense up, but only for an instant before I got myself under control and forced my body to relax again. "I suppose so."

"Does that mean you're going to divorce Brad, too?"

"I hope not, Sweetheart," I told her.

"I hope not, too, Daddy. I like Brad." She fell silent again and I cuddled her until she asked her next question. "Why did Mommy stop loving us?"

I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a long time until the proper words formed in my mind. "Your mother didn't stop loving us, Sweetheart," I assured her. "She just started to dream other dreams and we were stopping her from making them come true."

"Is that why she hurt me?"

Protective reflexes pulled my arms more tightly around my daughter and nuzzled my cheek into her hair as I whispered, "Yes."

"But she can't hurt me again, can she?"

"No, Sweetheart," I promised, "she can't."

My final word faded into the darkness and hid itself in the silence until Lindsay spoke again. "I like Daniel a lot, Daddy. What if he doesn't like me?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Sweetheart," I assured her lightly, happy that the direction of the conversation had changed so abruptly. "Daniel likes you, too."

"How do you know?"

"Well," I began, "he eats lunch with you, right?"

Her head nodded.

"And he talks to you, right?" Another nod. "And he's coming to the barbeque tomorrow."

"And he shared his water with me once when mine fell over and it spilt all over the ground."

"There," I said. "You see? He wouldn't have done that if he didn't like you."

"Like you share your coffee with Brad sometimes."

"Yup. People who like each other do things like that."

Lindsay considered that and then asked softly, "Do you like Daniel, Daddy?"

"Sure I like him," I told her. "He's a nice boy, and he's very polite."

She paused for a good length of time before asking, "So, you won't tease me if I let him be my boyfriend?"

I pulled my arms tighter around her body again as I nuzzled and kissed her hair. "Oh, Lindsay," I said. "Sweetheart! I'd never tease you about something like that."

I hugged her close, stopping only when she whispered, "Daddy?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?" I whispered back.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Sweetheart."

* * * * *

When I woke up, Lindsay was still asleep on my chest and I still had my arms wrapped around her. Now, though, we were covered in a light, white cotton sheet which hadn't been there earlier and the bedside lamp had been turned off. I didn't remember doing either of them and could only surmise that it had been Brad's work.

The morning sunlight washed through the window, replacing the moonlight from the night before. It promised to be a wonderful day for Lindsay's barbeque. I lifted my head from the pillow to see if she was still asleep. She was. I pressed my lips gently against her hair, tasting the final remnants of her herbal shampoo from her bath as I kissed her.

"Hi, Daddy," came a small, familiar voice from off to my left.

I turned my head in that direction and saw Justin in his blue-trimmed bathrobe, sitting cross-legged on the floor a short distance away from the bed. "Justin?" I said quietly so as not to wake my daughter. "What are you doing here, my Sonskyn?"

"Waiting for you to wake up," he replied as he rose easily to his feet and approached the bed.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You're Lindsay's bed." He planted his arms on the mattress and leaned forward on his elbows. "I don't wake up beds when they're sleeping." He smiled his cute little smile at me and puckered his lips, waiting for his early morning sugar. I craned my neck to give it to him. I thought of all the times he'd awakened me when I was being his bed and it made me smile.

Lindsay roused herself then and pushed herself up into a sitting position on my belly. "Good morning, Daddy," she said with a sweet smile which she always somehow managed to have for me first thing in the morning.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," I said. We shared our morning kiss and I turned my attention once more to Justin as Lindsay slid off me and the bed and into her own bathrobe. "Where's Jeremy?"

"Waiting for Daddy Brad to wake up."

"Well, what do you say we go help him wake up his father?"

Justin beamed at me with a smile which could brighten the rainiest and most dismal of days. Bright days like that Sunday in July were made even brighter by it.

* * * * *

It had, indeed, been Brad's work the night before.

We had already sent the kids downstairs whilst we dressed. "I woke up and you still weren't back in bed, so I went looking for you. You were both sound asleep and you looked so perfectly comfortable and happy there, especially Lindsay, that I just tossed a light bed sheet over you and turned out the light. How did ‘the talk' go?"

"She's growing up, Brad. Way too fast. She's starting to think seriously about boyfriends and things."

"Yeah, but you knew this was going to happen, didn't you? I mean, I remember in our sex ed classes talking about puberty and stuff and it can happen anytime after a girl turns nine. This can't be a surprise to you."

"I know, and I've been ready for it," I told him, "but, as a father, you don't want to see your babies grow up. They don't stay young long enough."

"Life happens, Ted," Brad said tenderly as he wrapped me in the warm, secure embrace of his arms. "You can't stop it."

He was so right. There was no stopping life. All you could do was to hang on tight and hope you didn't fall off.

By the time we got downstairs, Mom was already preparing breakfast for everyone. Brad readily jumped in to help her. No cold cereal for us. Mom was a firm believer in breakfast being a proper and very important meal and she made certain that it was plentiful and nourishing. To be honest, though, I truly believe that Mom simply enjoyed cooking for everyone.

Later that morning, we took a trip into the city with Mom so she could do some grocery shopping. We'd already phoned Nathan and Barry and they met us at the store where Nathan did his own shopping for the barbeque. As Nathan and Mom shopped for food, the rest of us went next door to Zellers to do some more clothes shopping. Now that we had a better idea of what the kids needed (which was pretty-much everything), we could start replacing it properly. Brad and I started replacing our own wardrobes as well.

Back home, we sat down for a quick lunch. Lindsay nibbled her sandwich and sipped away at her chicken noodle soup, but her attention kept moving to the clock on the wall where she watched the seconds tick by with eternal slowness. Her excitement grew with each tick of the second hand. We tried our best to keep her preoccupied, but it didn't work with any regularity. Before she even finished her lunch, she asked to excuse herself so she could go get herself ready. I let her go.

Slowly and eventually, much too slowly as far as Lindsay was concerned, the prearranged departure time arrived for us to go pick up Daniel for the afternoon. We buckled the twins into the van and Lindsay took her usual place on the back bench seat. Brad and I took our usual places in the front seats and off we went.

When we arrived at Daniel's home, a man, who I assumed was Daniel's father, was standing in the front picture window to the left of the front door. He had pushed the sheer curtains aside and was, apparently, watching and waiting for us. When we pulled up in front of the house, he released the sheers and, only a moment or two later, the front door opened and he stepped out, closing the door behind him. He moved easily down the steps and stopped.

Unlike his son, the father was a larger man and built much like Barry and Brad, only taller. I didn't care for the dark, serious look on his face. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest as the sheer curtains moved aside once more and Daniel came into view. He was crying. His mother stood behind him, her comforting hands resting on his shoulders.

"Uh oh," Brad mumbled.

"Yeah," I mumbled back.

"Daddy," Lindsay said from the back seat, "why isn't Daniel coming out?"

I turned toward the back and smiled through the seats. "I'll go see, Sweetheart. You wait here, okay?"

"Okay."

I looked at Brad and he knew immediately without words that I wanted him to keep the kids in the van. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.

I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. As I pulled it to release the latch, I prayed a silent prayer that Brad would be able to pull the guy off me before I ended up in intensive care.

To Be Continued​

 

[harry113]

Uh-Oh ...... Another one !! you do get them, don't you!
Thanks Neil, Is poor Lindsay going to experience one of the unsavoury facts of life, or can Ted smooth the waters??
Great chapter! Look forward to the next with interest!!
Harry

 

[Kyanimal]

Uh, Oh, indeed!!!

, Neil!

Keep smilin'!!, Ted!
Chaz

 

[PATMAN]

well well well.... as promised i caught up completely with the story reading on the beach, lol.
I actually finished the last chapter on the plane 5 minutes before landing at home! And i come home to find two more chapters for me to read... and wouldn't you know it.... i am finally all caught up with this story and of course the first time i have to actually WAIT for a new chapter happens to be another cliffhanger!
Neil, you are a master of suspense!
And that part when Ted was talking with Lindsay in bed was SO intensely realistic!
Beatifully written!!! Keep it up!

 

[Blktiger58]

Thank you GSDX. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

 

[gsdx]

Thank you GSDX. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Thank you, but our Thanksgiving in Canada was way back in early October. It's just a memory now.

 

[dlf0001]

This IS a great story, but, a dose of discrimination is due...

Ted and Brad have encountered an entire spectrum of acquaintances throughout their life together... lesbian friends, gay cop, gay lounge singer, nice parents down the street with a gay brother... open minded and loving parents, social workers, co workers, used truck salesman... even Ted's ex-wife seemed to be OK with homosexuality.

Now, we seem to finally have a situation where it's possible, the parents of Lindsay's "first love" may not be on board with the situation, or in touch with reality...

Of course, it could be a case of the runs or an illness that is the cause for Daniel not being able to attend...

Just speculating... I continue to be enthralled with this story and remember how spoiled we used to be with thrice weekly updates...

Happy Holidays all!!

 

[erasfred]

Hi Niel. I am only now at chapter XXI but I have to tell you an excellent story. Glad things turned out okay for the three of them so far. Lets see how it pans out.

Fred ZA

 

[erasfred]

WATCHING BRAD
Part XXX​

Somewhere behind us, through the closed windows of the hotel suite, the gentle roar of Niagara Falls lulled us into our slumber.

To Be Continued​

And this is where I have to say good going Ted

Fred

 

[erasfred]

WATCHING BRAD
Part XXXII​

It's me again. Ted. I'll be taking over telling the story again, but right now, I can't top what Brad has written, so I won't. His work will stand alone and I won't change any of it. I'm only writing this now for Brad.

Brad? I want you to know that I have never loved anyone else as much as I love you, and you'll never find anyone else who can or will. Rest assured, my sweet. I'll always - and I mean always - be there for you. Don't ever forget that.

I love you, Brad. Thank you for loving me back.

To Be Continued​

For tonight I will be reading up to here and I can only this has made Ted and Brad only more endearing in my view. Wish I could have a love like that.

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 179​

I can remember the first time I ever went to a movie theatre and the movie I watched there that day. I was four years old and Mom and Dad took me to see Star Wars. I can remember having seen the promotional trailers on television and wanting so much to be like the golden android (I called him a robot) C3PO. I can remember walking stiff-legged around the house with my crooked arms stuck out at my sides and my head jerking stiffly and making funny creaking sounds with my voice, trying to be the best 3PO I could be. Sometimes I would pretend to be R2D2 and beep and squeak and squeal like him, but I preferred to be 3PO. I also remember begging and nagging my parents relentlessly until they finally caved and took me to see it. I loved the movie and it quickly became a favourite which I still enjoy watching today.

In one particularly humourous scene in that movie, 3PO and R2 were playing holographic chess aboard the Millennium Falcon with Chewbacca. R2 made a move which angered the giant Wookie who roared his displeasure. C3PO couldn't understand Chewie's anger, but Han Solo, the renegade pilot of the Falcon, reminded the golden-hued android that Wookies weren't averse to ripping arms and legs out of their sockets when they lose.

I was reminded of that scene as I approached Daniel's father, looking at the large, T-shirt covered chest with the large arms crossed over it, and wondered if he was also prone to ripping limbs out of sockets when he became angry. Truth be told, he certainly looked as though he could do it and I wondered for a brief moment what his punishment would be for drawing and quartering someone with his bare hands in this century.

Like Barry and Brad, the man was a mesomorph with all the upper-body bulk and mass which comes with it. His hair was cut short with a flat top and had the colour of wet beach sand. As I drew nearer, I could see was clean-shaven, but there was a definite stubble. Not surprising, really, since it was Sunday and it was, quite likely, his day off from shaving. His nose was slightly crooked, quite possibly from having been broken at some time in his past. I also noticed that he had a small dragon tattooed on his right biceps, it's tail wrapping around the inside of his arm.

A swift peek at the front window showed Daniel and his mother still standing there, watching the drama unfold in front of them.

Before I knew it, I standing in front of the man and I suddenly realized that I had no idea what I was going to say or do. All I knew was that seven sets of eyes were on me and they were all waiting for me to make the first move.

My face obeyed my brain and forced itself into as pleasant a smile as it could manage and my hand extended itself in greeting. "Good morning," I said cheerfully as I could. At least I hoped it sounded cheerful. "I'm Ted de Villiers."

Daniel's father remained standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, the tattoo dragon's jaws agape and ready to eat me for lunch. The man's eyes dropped momentarily to my extended hand, then back up to my eyes, but he made no move to shake it.

I dropped my cheerful demeanor and my hand. "Look," I said, my voice hushing to a more private and personal level, "I'm not here to cause any trouble. I don't want a confrontation in front of the kids. All I want to do is to pick up Daniel so he can go swimming and have a barbeque with my daughter like they've planned."

"Ain't gonna happen, pal," the man said. "Might as well just get your faggot ass back in your van and drag it back home."

I hated that word, but I put it out of my mind for the moment. "Might I ask why?"

"Oh, you know why," he replied with one corner of his lips curling up slightly and his eyebrows curling down into an evil smirk. He dropped his arms to his sides as he turned toward his front door.

"Wait, please," I begged in a loud ‘stage whisper'. "Can't we talk about this?"

He turned back to me, his rugged face fierce and intimidating. "Nothing to talk about, fag. I don't trust you around my kid. You get what I'm puttin' down?"

"Yes, I do, but do you get that I'm expected to trust my daughter around you?"

His face flushed a deep shade of red in his sudden anger and his chest swelled in preparation for the pummelling I expected to receive. I instinctively took a small step back from him. "How dare you say such a thing about me," he growled ominously. "I wouldn't touch your daughter.

"And I would never touch your son. That's precisely why we need to talk about this. Five minutes, please. It's all I ask."

"I wouldn't give you five seconds, you fruitcake," he replied in a harsh, husky whisper. "Now, get the hell off my property!"

Once again he turned away from me. Through the front window of his house, I could see the sad, moist, tear-stained face of his son. I knew instinctively that the same look was on the face of my daughter. My brain reacted automatically. "Did your son go right to sleep last night or was he too excited to sleep?" I said loudly, grasping at the only straw which came to my mind.

It was enough. The man stopped and turned around to face me again. "What business is it of yours?"

"Please," I begged, "just tell me."

"It took him a long time to go to sleep," he replied. "How did you know?"

I pounced while I had his attention. "My daughter was so excited last night she got me out of bed and I had to hold her until she finally fell asleep in my arms. And now she doesn't understand what's going on. I suspect your son doesn't understand, either. My daughter is worth every minute of the rest of my life to me. Surely your son is worth five minutes of your time."

He stood there, staring me down and holding my gaze, but he didn't dismiss me. At least he was thinking about it. I held my breath until he spoke again. "I'll give you two."

"Thank you," I breathed out finally. "First of all, may I ask your name?"

He hesitated a few moments, considering, then said, "Dan Phillips."

"Named after your son, I see," I said, trying to make a joke.

His response was more of a reminder than a joke: "Tick tick tick."

I heaved a deep breath and forged ahead. "Okay. I can see you have problem with me and my lifestyle, but it isn't the only time Daniel's going to encounter it, if he hasn't encountered it already. Wouldn't it be better for you to teach him how to take care of himself rather than to fear it?"

"I am teaching him to take care of himself."

"No, Dan," I told him, "you're not. You're teaching him that it's better to hate it and avoid it rather than to understand it. Tell me. Does he know I'm gay?"

"He knows you married another man."

"And what does he think about it?"

"I don't know," Dan replied firmly. "I'm not even sure he knows what it means and I didn't ask."

"Well, maybe you should," I told him. "His answer might surprise you."

I could see Dan working his jaw and I could see his temples and cheekbones pulsating in concentration, but he held his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest again. His gaze dropped away from mine as he contemplated my words.

"Believe me, Dan," I continued, "I understand where you're coming from. I've been down this road before. But you have to trust me that all gay people aren't like you imagine us to be. Daniel will be perfectly safe around me, my family, and my friends. I'd never let anything happen to him."

Dan's eyes returned to mine and his look was fierce. His biceps tensed up to astonishing sizes. "I'd kill anyone who tried."

"So would I, Dan," I told him assuredly. "Just as I'd kill anyone who tried to take advantage of my daughter. That's what fathers do. But fathers also do what they can to make their children happy."

"My son is happy," he growled.

"Is he, Dan?" I nodded toward the front window. "Is he really? Look at him. Does he look like he's happy?"

Dan slowly turned his head to look at his son. Daniel was still standing there, as was his mother. Neither had moved, and tears were still clearly evident on the boy's cheeks.

"Look, Dan," I finished when he finally turned back toward me, "come with him if you like. Both you and your wife. Come for the afternoon and join us for the barbeque. Get to know us before you make a final decision, but at least let our children have this afternoon together. It's what they both want, and I think it's up to both of us to make it happen for them."

Dan's arms relaxed, as did his face. He looked away from me, but his eyebrows raised in deep thought. He was considering the option. I took advantage of his silence and pressed ahead. "My parents will be there. Brad's parents will be there, too, and a few of my friends. If you still feel the same way later on, we'll deal with it then, but we will have made both our children happy for one day."

His eyes lifted to mine once more and he drew in a deep breath, held it for a long moment, then let it out again. "These friends of yours," he said. "Are they gay or straight?"

"They're gay," I told him without hesitation. "Lindsay asked her Uncle Nathan to do the barbeque for her so Daniel wouldn't have to eat my hockey puck burgers."

Dan actually smiled at that. It wasn't a big one, but it was clearly a smile. "I know how to make those." The smile disappeared again as Dan looked over his shoulder at his son once more. I looked, too. Daniel was staring back at his father. He still looked sad, but there was something else in his face now. I believe it was ‘hope'. Father and son held gazes for quite some time before the father looked back at me one more time. Our eyes locked and I tried to read what was in his, but I couldn't be certain.

Finally, he dropped his arms to his side again and looked back over his shoulder once more and, with a small twitch of his head, he motioned his wife to come outside. She immediately patted their son lightly on his shoulders and a questioning look came over her face. It was clear that she was asking if Daniel should accompany her. Dan nodded. Daniel beat his mother to the door and was outside and standing beside his father in the blink of an eye. His wife joined us moments later and came to a stop behind her young son.

"You've already met my son," Dan said to me.

"Hello, Daniel," I smiled pleasantly.

"Hello, Mr. de Villiers," he replied with a polite but wary smile.

"And this is my wife, Tilly."

Her hand came out in greeting and I took it in mine. Her grip was firm, but friendly and sincere, as was her smile. Her dark hair was cut shoulder-length and it's auburn tinge, clearly evident in the early afternoon sun, explained Daniel's hint of strawberry blond locks. She was a slim, tiny woman, barely reaching her husband's shoulder, but her face was naturally pretty and pleasant and required very little make-up. She very much looked a sensible and down-to-earth woman, much like Connie had once been during our early years of marriage.

"I'm very pleased to meet you," Tilly said cheerfully and without reservation. Apparently she didn't share her husband's thoughts and beliefs.

"Ted de Villiers," I returned, "and it's very nice to meet you."

"de Villiers," she repeated with raised eyebrows. "South African?"

My own eyebrows went up in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I went to university with a girl from South Africa," she explained. "Somewhere just north of Cape Town, it think. Her last name was de Villiers, too. Such a sweet, quiet girl. She grew up in Canada but she still had the most delightful accent. Her family raised wolfhounds."

"My father is Afrikaaner," I told her. "He's been in Canada for over thirty years, but he still has his accent. My mother. . ."

Dan Phillips cleared his throat to gather our attention. We gave it to him. "We've got business to attend to, remember?" he asked with undisguised annoyance in his voice. He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he crouched down in front of his son and put his large hands on Daniel's thin arms. His wife placed her hands on Daniel's shoulders as she had been doing inside the house. "Danny? I have a very important question to ask you. Do you know what a fag is?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, but you shouldn't use that word, Dad."

"What word?"

"That ‘F' word you just said," young Daniel replied. "It's not a very nice word."

"What? Fag?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. That one. I don't like it. Only bullies and mean people say that word. There's another word for people who don't like other people who are different. It starts with a ‘pre-', but I don't remember what it is."

"Prejudiced?" Tilly Phillips suggested.

"Yeah, Mom," Daniel replied as he twisted his head around and up to look at his mother. "That's it."

Dan Phillip's brow furrowed in confusion. I doubt if he had expected to hear that from his own son. "Where did you hear that?"

"In school. We've been studying it in Current Events and we've talked about it in Sex Ed." Dan glanced briefly up at his wife, but Daniel continued, maintaining everyone's attention with his candor. "Did you know gay people can get married now, Dad? In a church and everything, just like you and Mom did. Mr. de Villiers and his friend got married last weekend."

"You knew they were fa. . . er. . . ‘gay'?"

Daniel nodded again. "Lindsay told me a long time ago."

Dan stood up, towering over his son and forcing him to look up. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't think it was important, Dad."

"Not important?" Dan said, surprised. "The guy could have been a perv who preys on boys your age, or haven't they taught you that in school yet?"

"Our teachers have talked about people like that," Daniel explained, "but Lindsay's dad isn't like that."

"If he was, Honey," his wife said, interrupting suddenly, "I don't think Mr. de Villiers would have been allowed to adopt his sons."

Dan Phillips harrumphed. "Oh, come off it, Tilly. Anyone can adopt these days if they've got enough money to buy a kid through the black market."

"Not when you adopt through Children's Aid," I told him.

This, too, surprised the elder Phillips. "You adopted through Children's Aid?"

"Yes, I did," I told him. "Identical twins. I didn't expect it to happen so fast, but CAS had been waiting two years for someone like me to walk through their doors."

"What do you mean?" Tilly asked.

"The boys were abandoned by their mother when they were babies," I explained, "and they were left to be raised by their gay father. He was murdered by his abusive lover when the boys were only two years old. It was two days before someone found them, and their father was lying within arm's reach of their playpen."

Tilly's hands slid off her son's shoulders and down to his chest where they instinctively pulled the boy closer to her - not to protect him from me, but to protect him from what had happened to Justin and Jeremy. "Oh, dear God," she whispered into the afternoon sun. "Those poor dears. How are they doing now?"

"They're doing fine, thank you," I said to her. "Shall I. . ."

"What about Lindsay?" Dan interrupted. "Is she adopted, too?"

"No, she's my daughter," I said. "Her mother and I are divorced."

"Figures," Dan Phillips mumbled.

"That's not why I divorced her," I told him. "It's a long story, but you'll just have to believe me that being gay had nothing to do with it."

"Does your ex know you're gay?"

"Dan!"

"Yes, Dan," I said, trying to keep my temper and to maintain my composure. "She knew all about it. In fact, she tried to use it against me when I took her to court for custody of Lindsay. She lost."

"The judge knew you were gay," he said, "and he still gave you custody over your ex?"

"That's what we've been trying to tell you, Honey," Tilly interjected. "Don't you see? It doesn't matter that he's gay. Not anymore. Mr. de Villiers and everyone like him have rights, too, and you're trying to take them away from him. You really should listen to your son, Dan. Things have changed a lot since you were his age, and they're changing more every day."

"And the judge was a ‘she', not a ‘he'," I added for extra impact.

Dan Phillips slowly shook his head back and forth as his gaze shifted to the ground in front of him. "This is all just too freakin' weird."

"Then accept my invitation, Dan. All three of you are welcome to come to my parents' place this afternoon and stay for the barbeque. The kids will have the afternoon that they want and you'll have a chance to get to know us better. We'll all be able to sit down and explain everything to you and answer all of your questions. I'd really rather we didn't get another Capulet/Montague thing going on with our families."

Dan looked at his wife, his brow raised in question. "Romeo and Juliet," she said softly.

"Oh," he said. "Right."

The sounds of the city were all around us, but we were suddenly surrounded by an eerie silence as we all waited for Dan Phillips to make his decision. Three sets of eyes were locked on him and he looked into mine first, his brown eyes boring into me in search of whatever he needed to see in them. I'm not sure what he was hoping to find, but he searched for a very long time and I made certain that I held his intimidating gaze as stoically as I could. I think he was impressed that I refused to back down and cower under his glare.

Then he looked into his wife's hopeful eyes, reading her thoughts and emotions for a time before turning lowering his gaze to his son's anxious face. Daniel's eyes were open wide and I could see him chewing nervously on his lower lip. He didn't blink once.

Time seemed to stand still as Daniel looked up into his father's face. And then Daniel's voice, barely a whisper in the air, said, "Please, Dad. I really want to go."

Suddenly, Dan Phillips' hard, rugged face softened. His boy had done something that neither I nor his wife had been able to do. Daniel Phillips Junior had been able to break him. It was like that scene in that cartoon classic How the Grinch Stole Christmas when the Grinch finally understands the real meaning of Christmas and all the anger and disgust washes out of his face. Dan's face went through a very similar transformation.

"Okay," he said. "We'll go."

To Be Continued​

 

[tommy296]

Beautifully written (as always) Neil! Thank you for another great chapter!

 

[GrayFox]

Wow! Just what I needed this morning. Tastefully done, Neil! There were some big lessons for all of us in that chapter. Thank you!

 

[harry113]

Thank you Neil, that is just brilliant, & wonderfuly written.
The build-up & the suspense kept me rivetted to the page !! Bravo!!
As GrayFox says, there are lessons in tolerance for all of us.
Eager for the next chapter
Hugs
Harry

 

[upyrkilt469]

Great chapter Neil, looking forward to the next one. Vic

 

[justdoitinnj]

Excellent writing skills.
May I be the 1st in line to plant a kiss on Dan Sr?

 

[walkabout]

Cant wait to read the next installment, great chapter, its unique how a father could care to explain himself to a total stranger for his daughter's happiness. The nicety of the story is awesome

 

[glorff]

I have no idea how you keep making us all cry again and again, but please don't stop.

 

[ronboy]

Neil...another stellar chapter! You are my hero!