Watching Brad

[walkabout]

hope you are alright...take care

 

[Kyanimal]

Neil, Buddy!

I certainly hope the hand/arm "works out" O.K.! And, Yes!, as much as "We" may hate to "give in", and go see a doctor, DO IT!!!

I'm currently nursing a "flare up" of the sciatic nerve in my right hip! I've gotta stop sleeping on my couch!! Sometimes, it just a "Bitch" getting "Old", isn't it??

Above ALL ... Take Good Care!!

And, of course, no matter what ...

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[upyrkilt469]

Don't delay going to the doctor. Whatever it takes and get back to writing as soon as you can. We'll keep you in our prayers.
Vic

 

[harry113]

Neil dear guy, GO SEE the DOC !!!
Apart from the stories, you must put your health first
Hugs
Harry

 

[caddymac]

I hope you will be better very soon. Get Well!!!!

 

[oldbigballs]

Hi Neil, only my second post but I've just caught up and looking forward to more. I've had a cold for a week now, the only thing that's kept me going is Brad!!! Hope the doc sorts out your arm soon. Just saw a comment about a new chapter of Jason so going to check that out now!! Love the sex in it!!! Get well soon

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 184​

For the first time, Brad and I had a chance to stand off to the side and watch the kids at soccer camp. Our first appointment to view an apartment wasn't until ten o'clock, so we took the opportunity to just enjoy watching them at play. The twins were stationed in a small patch of grass which had been temporarily outlined with chalk lines into a scaled-down soccer pitch about half the size of a regulation pitch. Hockey nets were set up instead of the much larger, much wider soccer goal nets. In the beginning, the boys were knelt down on the still-damp grass from yesterday's rain with the rest of the group, listening intently as their camp trainers demonstrated that day's lesson.

In the larger pitch beside them, Lindsay was practising her ball passing with Daniel and some of their friends before their own training session began.

"She certainly looks like she's having fun, eh?" Brad commented lightly.

"I think she's having more fun since she met Daniel."

"How do you feel about that?"

"What?" I asked, turning my head. "Lindsay having a boyfriend?"

Brad nodded his response.

I turned my head back toward my daughter and shrugged my shoulders. "As much as I'd like to, Brad, I can't stop her from growing up. It's going to happen no matter what I do." I shrugged again. "I like Daniel. He looks like a good kid, and at least he doesn't seem to have inherited his father's ideals. She could certainly be doing a lot worse than Daniel."

"She could have ended up with someone like me," Brad joked.

"I would have grounded her for the rest of her life if she did."

That one got me a friendly smack upside the back of the head.

"No sex for you tonight, Pops."

"And that would make it different from any other night ‘how'?"

That got me another light smack, but it also got me a quick, warm hug and a whisper in my ear. "Love you lots, Pops."

"Love you, too, Tiger," I whispered back.

Fortunately for us, the pep talk for the younger group was relatively short and, before we had to leave, we got to see the boys practising kicking soccer balls into the empty hockey nets. I was particularly surprised and happy to see Jeremy getting right into it like his brother. I expected him to hold himself back, but it was clear that he truly enjoyed playing soccer and was much more aggressive than I had ever seen him before. Their stature was something of a disadvantage, but they were persistent. If they fell down, they jumped right back up again. I was extremely proud of them.

All too soon, though, we had to leave for our appointment and discreetly climbed into the van and drove away without distracting the children from their camp. We'd be back in a few hours to pick up the boys and I had already decided that I would buy lunch for the twins. That would save us driving home and then all the way back again for the afternoon appointment. To that end, I also decided that we would invite Lindsay and Daniel to join us for lunch as well. I had Brad phone Mom to tell her we wouldn't be home until later that afternoon..

"I've never been apartment hunting before," Brad said excitedly after he'd telephoned Mom. "Think we'll find one today?"

"I'll be very surprised if we do, Brad," I told him as I drove along to the address. "It's not like we're going out to buy a pair of jeans or something. If it was just for you and me, it wouldn't be a big problem. We're guys. We can live in a cardboard box if we have to. But we've got three kids to think about, and they need a lot more than just a place to sleep. They need something that feels like home."

"It'll only be for a few months, though, won't it?"

"I don't know, Brad. I suppose it depends on how fast someone can build our new house. And since I've never built one before, I don't know how long it would take."

"We could stop by and ask Dad when we're done. He's still on holidays, remember?" He called his father to make sure they'd be home and, when he was finished, informed me that we were all invited to stay there for supper. Bernice would be making homemade lasagna.

Brad appeared much more excited about the adventure than I was. I'd done my share of apartment and house hunting in my time, and it wasn't really as much fun as he was thinking it might be. At least I didn't find it particularly enjoyable. Then again, as I thought back to the time when Connie and I searched for our first apartment, I suppose it was fun and exciting for us in a way. It had, indeed, been an adventure, but now I saw it only as a chore that I didn't particularly enjoy having to do.

"I think I'll put an ad in the local papers," I said off-handedly. "You know. . . ‘looking for an apartment to rent'."

"Why?"

"Well, it would be easier for us right now to find an apartment that was at least partially furnished, and it would certainly help our seach."

"Oh, yeah," Brad said. "Apartments usually come empty, don't they?"

"Yes, they do. And we don't have anything to put in one."

"I hadn't thought of that." A moment later, he continued. "One thing I have thought of, though, is what a pain it's going to be to change all those addresses and then change them all back again."

"I don't think we'll have to," I explained. "I'll check with Bill to make sure, but we still own the property and it's still our address. We're still getting mail there since your father moved the mailbox for us, so it's not like we're cheating anyone."

"You think that's legal?"

"Let's just say that I don't think it's illegal. . . at least for the few months we'd be doing it."

If Mom had been with us and saw the apartment, she probably would have been properly polite and called it ‘Olde Worlde Bijou'. I wouldn't have been quite so polite. Had it been carved into the side of a hill and had round doors and windows, Mr. Frodo and Samwise Gamgee would have felt perfectly at home there. Me? Not so much.

Brad noticed as well and gripped my left hand in his right as he whispered softly, "Gee-sus, Murphy."

Behind us, the landlady cleared her throat politely. When we turned to look at her, she was standing there with her hand splayed over her throat. A quick glance toward our hands told us why she had caught our attention. Brad just smiled slightly at her and said, "It's alright. We're married." And, without another word, we set about having a look at the apartment, holding hands all the way.

The apartment, newly renovated and still smelling of fresh paint, was on the upper floor of an older two-storey home which, as the woman explained, had recently been converted into two separate apartments. I suspect, in its heyday, the upper floor would undoubtedly have been relegated to sleeping quarters - complete with slanted ceilings - whilst the lower floor had been used as the general living quarters. Apparently, the renovators had gutted the upper bedrooms and converted the entire space into a three-bedroom apartment.

Off the livingroom was a small galley kitchen and a bathroom which was so tiny that the only way Brad and I could enter it at the same time would be for one of us sit on the toilet or to stand in the shower stall. There was no bathtub.

"The place looked bigger from outside," Brad commented. That had been my thought as well. "Still," he continued, "it would only be for a few months."

The master bedroom was far too small for even a queen-sized bed, but a full-sized mattress would fit easily. That concerned me, but Brad thought it would be ‘cozy and fun'. The second bedroom, although small, was suitable, but the third bedroom was barely the size of a walk-in closet.

"There's room for a bed," the woman assured us as we stood in the doorway and looked inside. "You said you had five-year-old twins? That room would be perfect for them."

"Perhaps," I replied sarcastically, "if we stacked them vertically when we put them to bed."

My sarcasm was totally wasted on the landlady who tittered behind us as though I had made a joke. Believe me. I wasn't trying to be funny.

And then Brad said, "There isn't even a window in here, Ted."

I had been so shocked at the fact that the landlady was trying to pawn off this broom closet for a bedroom that I hadn't even noticed the lack of daylight.

"Right," I said. "Come on, Brad." To the lady, I said, "Thank you for your time."

So ended Brad's initiation into apartment-hunting.

We arrived at the next appointment with plenty of time to spare and, as we sat there, parked in front of the place, my phone rang.

"Hello."

"Mr. de Villiers?"

"Yes."

"This is Sam," said the voice. "You called me yesterday about the apartment?"

"Yes, I did," I replied. "We're parked out front as we speak waiting for our appointment."

"Oh, dear. I was hoping to catch you in time. I was just calling you to tell you that the apartment you came to see has just been rented."

"Oh," I said. "Well, thank you for calling and letting us know."

"Listen," Sam said urgently. "I've got another apartment coming available in September. It's only two bedrooms, but the rooms are large and it's partially furnished. All you would really need are beds and cooking and dining items. And you said it was temporary until you get your new house built. If you'd like to see it. . . ?" He left the question hanging, giving me time to think.

It hadn't surprised me when he mentioned that the rental would be temporary. When we made the appointments, we explained our situation to all potential landlords. "Where are you?"

"Right beside you," Sam said. "Waving at you from the front window."

I looked and there he was, waving at us. I waved back. Sam was an older gentleman, probably retired from what I could see of him, but, he looked as pleasant and amiable as he sounded. "The apartment's here?"

"Yes," he said, nodding his head at us.

"Can you hang on a minute?" I asked. "I'd like to discuss it with my. . ." I almost changed my mind and said ‘Brad', but I decided to say what had first come into my mind: ". . . husband."

"Of course," Sam replied. "Listen. You two talk it out and I'll call the current tenants and get their permission to take you through, then I'll phone you right back."

"Okay," I said. "Thank you."

We rang off and I explained the situation to Brad.

"We're here," he said. "Can't hurt to look at it."

"But it's only got two bedrooms."

"Well, we only had two bedrooms when the twins moved in, remember?" Brad reminded me. "We managed then. We can manage now. We've still got the air mattresses and sleeping bags in the garage back home. No smoke got in there. And I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

"We wouldn't have much privacy."

"Sex isn't everything, Pops," Brad said, then leaned forward to give me a kiss. "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

I was about to respond when the phone rang. It was Sam. He'd received permission to take us through the apartment. He had been right. The apartment was quite expansive and there would be plenty of room in the master bedroom to put up a divider for all three kids to sleep in. There was also a half-bath attached to it, which was a bonus in itself. That left the second bedroom for Brad and I. It was smaller than the master bedroom, but there was still plenty of room for a full-sized bed, and Brad and I wouldn't be stumbling over each other trying to get around the room.

"I think we could make it work, Pops," Brad said quietly as he looked around.

"I think so, too."

Sam stepped up behind us, putting a friendly hand on our backs. We moved apart slightly, allowing the man to move in between us. His hands slid up to our shoulders, "Listen," he said, "normally, I'd be advertising the apartment at the beginning of August, but I'll hold off until mid-August. Say the fifteenth. If you don't find anything else before then and decide you want the apartment, call me and it's yours."

"That's very kind of you, but you do realize it would only be for a few months until we get our new house built, don't you?"

"Don't you fret yourself about that, my friend," Sam assured me with smile and a pat of his hand. "I've lost two houses to fire during my time on this old Earth and I know full well what it's like to have family who relies on you and you don't have a place for them to live. If this is suitable for your needs, you've got first dibs."

"It's very suitable," I told him."

"Then it's settled. And if I hear about another place that would be more suitable for you and available sooner, I'll let you know."

"Again," I said, "that's very kind of you."

"Well," said Sam humbly as he squeezed our shoulders in a firm and friendly grip, "life is a battle, isn't it? And we're all in it together, aren't we? I think it's easier to win if we all play on the same team, don't you?"

I hadn't thought that way before I met Sam, but I have often done so since.

* * * * *

Daniel was much more comfortable and relaxed around us that day, readily setting aside his sandwiches and accepting our invitation to join us for Kentucky Fried Chicken and fries. We sat on the grass in the shade of a large sugar maple tree, munching our lunches and sipping our pops, and chatting about whatever came to our minds.

After lunch, before heading off to the afternoon appointment, we changed the twins out of their soccer kit and into regular shorts and T-shirts. We needn't have bothered. The appointment didn't last very long. Oh, the house looked nice from the outside, and it looked nice on the inside, too. The rooms smelt of fresh paint and the carpets had that ‘just cleaned' look. There was plenty of room for all of us but, as we walked through the main floor of the bungalow, I noticed Justin crinkling his nose and poking his index finger into his nostrils and twisting it around. Jeremy was doing the same. They had never done that before.

"Don't do that," I told them as I pulled Justin's hand away from his face. "It's not polite."

Justin said, "It stinks, Daddy."

"It tickles my nose on the inside," Jeremy added.

"A bit of damp in the basement," the woman said, obviously embarrassed. "We have a dehumidifier running there now to dry it out."

But it was more than ‘a bit of damp', which became clearly apparent as we walked down the stairs to view the finished basement. That's when I could smell it, too. Mould! If it had been on the walls, it had been cleaned and painted over, but, from the odour, I suspected that it the inside of the drywall was black with it.

When Justin's face crinkled up as much as his nose and he pinched his nostrils closed with his finger and thumb, I grabbed him up in my arms and Brad grabbed up Jeremy and we were out of there. A hundred dehumidifiers couldn't handle that problem, and I wasn't about to jeopardize my family's health for a few months of cheap rent.

* * * * *

"I think your father's right, Ted," John Hayes said to me as we sat around the kitchen table sipping coffee. The twins were sitting on the floor in the livingroom, munching Grandma's homemade peanut butter cookies and drinking chocolate milk and watching cartoons on television. We'd taken along the laptop with us (I rarely travelled without it) and showed them the basic plans for the house which the twins had found. "You'll save thousands on the plumbing alone with Jan doing the work, and anything you can do to help will be money in your pocket. Just find yourself a good contractor and he can make it happen. Lucky for you that I just happen to know a few of the best in the business."

"Still, I've done the math, John," I said. "The insurance will pay off the current mortgage, but I'm not sure I can afford to take out another mortgage for the cost of building it. I still think going with one of the smaller homes we found would be a more affordable option for me."

"You won't have to pay it alone, Ted," Brad said, giving my hand a squeeze. "I can get a part-time job somewhere to help out with the money."

"Not until you graduate. I don't want a job to interfere with your education."

"I'll manage," he insisted.

I let it pass for the time being, but nothing was going to get between Brad and his diploma if I had anything to say about it.

"The point is moot anyway," I said. "I want some sort of basement for storage and for a freezer and pantry. It wouldn't have to be finished. Just dry. I have no intention of using it for anything other than storage. And this one only has a crawlspace."

"You can always fit in a basement, Ted," John assured me. He pointed at the screen. "Look here. You don't really need that closet under the stairs, do you? An architect can easily replace the closet with stairs into the basement. And you don't need a full basement, either. He can design one as small or as big as you want. The rest can remain crawlspace."

"But that would only add to the expense," I reminded him. "So. . ."

"So. . ." John repeated. "Your basement is already there, Ted. All you need to do is build new foundations and backfill it. No need to dig out a new one."

As many arguments that I could find against building the larger house - the house everyone except me seemed to want so much - someone always seemed to find ways around them. Still, I was assured by the knowledge that, ultimately, the decision would be ours to make. I just had to convince Brad that I was right.

* * * * *

As the final week of my holidays and what should have been our honeymoon wound down, Brad and I did what we could to clear out more of the house. Bag after bag of grimy, smokey, smelly trash went into the dumpster bin. By Thursday morning, the bin had been filled to overflowing and had been taken away, only to be replaced with an empty one. Our one other apartment viewing on Thursday afternoon turned out to be fruitless as well. I had been lucky enough to set the appointment when the neighbour, who should not have been home at that time, actually was home for reasons unknown to us and the thumping, window-rattling strains of some unknown band pounded into us through the walls.

"Damn!" the man cursed. "Well, that's that then, isn't it?"

I could understand his frustration. "I'm guessing that's why the apartment here is empty?" I said, loudly enough to be heard over the din.

The man nodded. "I'm trying to get him out of here, but he's a pro at freeloading. He knows which cards to play and when to play them. Every time I think I'm ahead of the game, he pulls another ace out of his sleeve. We go to court at the end of the month."

I felt sorry for the man and we left him that afternoon suspecting that the apartment would remain empty until he managed to pull a Royal Flush from the deck and get his freeloader out of his life.

Friday morning, just after eleven o'clock, Brad and I were examining Lindsay's empty dresser drawer - the one she had decorated with her faerie stickers and decals. We were wondering if it could be salvaged and ridded of that smoky smell. I decided that it was at least worth the attempt. The dresser meant so much to my daughter. As we were replacing the drawers into their slots, a voice sounded from the open window beside us.

"Howdy, Scarecrow. Need some help?"

To Be Continued​

 

[Trent0n1]

Another great chapter Neil....I hope you're feeling better too!

Trent

 

[harry113]

Hi Neil, Thanks for another great chapter .... Who is at the window?? Is it perhaps someone we already know??
I do hope your arm is holding up ok!!
Take care, look foward to the next chapter
Harry

 

[upyrkilt469]

Excellent chapter Neil. Stay well, and keep writing. Looking foward to the next chapter.
Vic

 

[Nick35]

Hi Neal,
This is my first post on your wonderful story....I have read 184 chapters in a bit over a week to catch up!!!!

I agree with the many posters that you have written a fabulously beautiful story, with love, romance, surprises....fantastic, Neil!!! Thank you for the joy and love and fantastic parenting in Watching Brad....will be looking toware future installments....

Best regards and hugs, you are super!!!!!
Nick

 

[Thanatos]

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful story.
Started reading in october 2007, and even if long I didn't give up.

Thanks Neil.

 

[Thanatos]

YOU didn't MAKE ME give up, to be precise...

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 185​

At first, I was startled. Then I was surprised. Finally, I was shocked.

A deeper, muffled, disembodied voice called out, "Hi, guys!"

I knew who was standing at the open window, of course, even before I turned my head. The voice was very familiar. Besides, only one person had called me ‘Scarecrow' recently, and that was when he had left to return home almost a week previously.

David's voice had startled me because I hadn't been expecting anyone to be standing there, but I was pleasantly surprised that he was back in Canada so soon - if not curious to know why. I was shocked, however, when I turned my head toward the window and saw his smiling face framed in the smashed window frame. At first I thought it was a trick of the outside sunlight hiding portions of his face in shadows and making me see things that weren't there, but then he turned his face to the side, looking down at the unseen man beside him and I knew I wasn't imagining it. I had seen something.

In my haste to get out the window and down the step ladder, my left bootlace got snagged on the sill and I stumbled, practically tumbling out of the window and falling into what remained of Lindsay's garden below. I would have done so, too, if not for Brad's quick reactions behind me. He screamed my name and grabbed my arm in his firm grip, holding me fast as he struggled to untangle my bootlace with his free hand as I dangled precariously virtually upside down. Another hand came up at me from beneath, the palm planting itself against my ribs and supporting me with a strength I knew I could depend upon not to fail. With some embarrassment on my part and plenty of laughing from everyone else, I managed to get out the window unscathed and down the ladder in one piece.

Brad quickly joined me as I began pulling off the plastic coveralls, looking with great interest, happiness, and curiosity at our two dear friends. "Gee-sus, Murphy, David! What are you doing back here already?" I asked. "And what in hell happened to you?"

David's left hand rose to his face, his outstretched fingertips coming lightly and tenderly to rest upon his bruised cheek, just beneath his still-swollen and blackened eye. A small surgical bandage was applied to the temple side of his left eyebrow and the eye itself was still reddened and bloodshot with broken blood vessels. His lip, too, was slightly swollen and split.

"This," David said, "is why I'm here. And Brook's here because I'm here. He took the day off so we could come and surprise you."

"You certainly did that, but what happened to your face?"

"It's a long story," David replied, "but a good one."

We heard that story as we sat at the kitchen table with Bernice Hayes serving us coffee and cookies and cakes. John Hayes sat at the table, quietly listening in and happily munching a couple of chocolate macaroons.

* * * * *

(What follows was pieced together from several conversations we had with David and Brook. The more explicit portions, of course, were discussed privately with us and blended with the story we heard that morning into a complete account.)

David had returned to Albany as planned the previous weekend and had returned to his work that Monday morning. "I've got this friend who works with me," David explained. "Name's Jake. He's straight, but he's cool with me being gay and he's my best friend on the crew. Best friend there, actually. We've even gone out drinking and to the movies together I told him all about my trip to Canada and meeting Brook and everything, and he was all happy for me and congratulating me and everything. We were sitting together having our coffee break Monday afternoon and I was showing Jake some of the pictures of me and Brook." He looked at Brook, smiling and winking at him before turning back to us so he could continue his tale. "All decent and G-rated and everything, you know, but there were a few pictures there of Brook and me hugging and kissing. Neither of us noticed, but a couple of guys on the crew came up behind us and saw the pictures."

The leader of the group had the build of a football player and the strength and power of a bricklayer. From David's description of him, he could have crushed me with one hand whilst eating his lunch with the other. "They didn't know I was gay," David added.

The leader reached between David and his friend, grabbing the photo out of Jake's hand. "Well well well," he said in his gruff, menacing voice as he stood back and displayed the picture to his two comrades. "Lookie here, boys. We got us a fag in the ranks and it looks like Faggot Smurf's got himself a boyfriend, and it looks like he's spent a bit too long in the sun."

David and Jake rose to their feet and faced the trio of intruders. "Come on, Paul," Jake said calmly as he held out his hand. "Just give them back and leave David alone, okay?"

Paul clutched the photos protectively to his chest. "Oh, I don't think so, Jake. These things are too good to give back."

"You a queer boy, too, Jake?" the guy to Paul's right side asked accusingly.

"No," Jake answered. "I'm just David's friend."

"Well, maybe you should be his friend somewhere else, Jake. Got no beef with you."

Jake didn't move.

"So, Davy, where'd you find him?" Paul asked. "Canada?"

"What if I did?"

"Didn't know they grew ‘em that colour up there."

"Hey, Davy," the third guy said, "is it true about them guys? When he fucks your ass, does his cock reach all the way to your throat so you can suck him off at the same time?"

Boisterous laughter burst from the three workmates as David and Jake gritted their teeth and tried to maintain their tempers.

"So," said the leader. "The little fag likes chocolate dick. Does he cum chocolate milkshakes, Davy?"

David tensed up, ready to pounce, but held back when Jake moved closer, pressing his arm against David's. "Easy, Dave," Jake said as calmly as he could considering the circumstances.

"Huh, Davy?" the leader continued. "You like suckin' black dick? Or maybe you like him ramming it up your little faggot ass. Which is it, Davy? Huh? You like his chocolate bars shoved up your shit chute or down your throat? Or maybe both?"

"Come on, Paul," Jake pleaded. "Lay off, will you? Just leave him alone and give him back his pictures. He's not hurting anyone."

"What's up with you, Jake? Huh?" the leader, Paul, asked accusingly. "Davy suckin' you off so you'll be his friend?"

"Or maybe he's bending over for Jakey-boy," the second guy offered with a laugh.

"Nah," said the third guy. "Jake's not gettin' nothin' outa Davy. He's a. . ."

* * * * *

"And then he called me a name and I lost it," David concluded. "I jumped at the guy and we started getting into it when I got cold-cocked in the eye from my left side. Jake told me it was Paul who did it. I don't know. Didn't see. I got knocked on my ass and then all three of them were on top of me. They got in a few good punches to my gut and I ended up with a split lip before Jake and a few other guys from the crew could pull them off me, but I wasn't the only one who came away with a bloody nose. Paul's straighter than his nose now."

"Gee-sus, Murphy," Brad muttered.

"The supervisor came over and sent Paul off to the hospital. He told me to get cleaned up and get back to work, but I told him I was going to the hospital, too. He didn't look too happy when I told him I wouldn't be coming back except to pick up my paycheque."

"You quit!?" I asked in a stunned voice.

David smiled and nodded. "I told you when I left to go back ho. . ." (David suddenly stopped and paused for a moment before changing his tack and continuing) ". . .back to Albany, Ted. This is where I belong. This is where I want to be. This is where I want to call ‘home'." He glanced briefly at Brook and took Brook's hand in his own. "I called Brook that night and we talked for hours."

"Hours!" Brook repeated under his breath.

"I told him how I really felt about him and I told him I wanted to come back. I told him that I wanted to live with him. . . to be with him. I asked him if I could come back and he said ‘yes', and now I'm here."

Brook chuckled his deep baritone laugh, his shoulders bouncing with each chuckle as David looked at him with a happy glint in his bloodshot eye and a happy-but-distorted smile on his swollen lips. "He phoned me again at four o'clock in the morning just to ask how much room he would have in the closet so he'd know how many clothes he could bring with him. He'd been awake all night sorting and packing and he had no idea what time it was."

David's face glowed. "But you weren't mad, right?"

"Nah," Brook replied with a gentle grin. "It takes more than a phone call at four in the morning to get me mad."

David's smile broadened, and then he suddenly and quickly leaned forward to give Brook a kiss on the lips. But then, just as suddenly and quickly, he realized where he was and what he had done. He sat back in his chair, releasing Brook's hand. His face turned a brilliant shade of red as he looked at John and Bernice. "Oh, God," he apologized. "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry!"

Bernice's smile was sincere and reassuring. "That's okay, David," she said politely. "We don't mind, really."

David blushed again, then said, "You see, Ted? That's why I need to be here. I'm happy here and I can be myself here. What's more, though, I'm not afraid to be myself. You know something? Last night, when I finally got to Toronto, Brook came down to help me unload my car and one of our neighbours saw us digging bags out of the trunk and he just started grabbing stuff and carrying it inside for me. And he's not even gay. He lives in the next apartment to us with his girlfriend and he doesn't care about me and Brook. And that's the whole thing right there. Most people don't care. Sure, we've run into a few creeps here and there who want to cause sh. . . er. . . problems with us, but when Brook and I go out together, it's like there's no snide remarks. . . no whispers behind our back. . . no disgusted sneers and pointing fingers. . . no nothing. For the most part, people just don't care. I'm twenty-six years old, Ted, and, for the first time in my life, I can be proud of who and what I am, and I'm not ashamed that people know, and I'm not afraid if they find out. I feel like I can really be myself and I don't have to keep looking over my shoulder when I walk down the street."

David paused in his lengthy monologue to take Brook's hand back into his own and to turn his face toward him. He did enjoy talking. His voice dropped almost to a hush. "For the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of allowing myself to be in love with the man I want to be in love with."

The room fell silent as David and Brook shared their moment.

"May I ask what name he called you?" Brad's father asked, breaking the silence.

David's reaction surprised me. He dropped his chin to is chest, his brow tightened and his face turned scarlet red - not in embarrassment, but in anger. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, his hands balled into fists, and he shook his head slowly back and forth, clearly reluctant to talk about it.

"It wasn't a nice one," Brook offered, taking over the conversation for David. "Have you seen the movie To Kill a Mockingbird?"

Brad shook his head ‘no', but I answered, "Years ago, but I don't remember it very much."

"I do," John said, nodding his head slightly. "The girl's father?"

"Yes."

"Oh, David," Bernice whispered compassionately. She obviously knew the what Brook was talking about as well. "How horrible."

"What, Mom?" Brad asked. "What was it?"

John explained. "Gregory Peck played a lawyer during The Depression. Atticus Finch. He had to defend a black man who had been charged with raping a white girl. Her father was a bigoted drunk who used the ‘N' word a lot."

"The one that rhymes with ‘bigger'," Bernice added in case we couldn't figure it out.

"He called the lawyer an ‘N-Lover' a few times."

"Gee-sus, Murphy," Brad and I mumbled at the same time.

"No wonder you fought back," I said to David who didn't budge. "That would piss me off, too."

Brook looked at me, staring into my eyes and holding my gaze. "You've got it wrong, Ted," he said quietly. "David wasn't defending himself. He was defending me."

"Nobody calls Brook that word. Not in front of me." The room fell deadly silent again. My attention gravitated to David. His head remained bowed, but his eyes finally rose to meet mine.

I knew David had balls. He'd proved it many times in the short time I'd known him. Determination, too. Anyone who could stand up to Barry and take him on and hold his own certainly deserved respect. David had earned my respect virtually the moment I'd met him.

The silence was eventually broken by John Hayes who commented softly, "It's almost noon, Ted."

"Noon?" Brook asked, snapping back to the moment.

"Time to go get the twins from soccer camp," Brad said.

"Hey. How about you guys come to Maple Grove with us for the afternoon?" I suggested. "Stay for supper."

"We're here to help with the house if you need it," Brook said.

"Forget that for now," I said. "We can do that later. I think I'd rather just spend time with you guys."

Brook and David exchanged a quick glance, then nodded. "Okay. Sounds good," David said. "Thanks."

"Then why don't you and Brad board up the house and Brook can go with me to get the twins? We'll stop by on the way back and you can follow us. . ."

"Just go on home, Pops," Brad said. "David and I'll go on our own when we're finished here and meet you there."

It was agreed, so we gulped down our coffees as Bernice wrapped up a package of cookies and cakes for us to take along with us. There was no getting away from her spoiling her grandkids with her treats. We left David and Brad to clean up and secure the house and set out to get the boys at the school where the soccer camp was held.

"Sounds like David's going to make this move a permanent one, eh?" I commented.

"Sounds like it to me, too," Brook replied.

"You okay with that?"

"Sure. I enjoy his company."

"What about him. . . you know. . ."

"Do you mean am I okay with him falling in love with me?"

I looked at Brook and he was looking at me. I quickly returned my attention to the road. "Well, yeah," I replied. "I suppose so."

"Yeah, I'm cool with it," Brook said as he turned his head away to look at the houses passing by on the right. "When David went back to The States last weekend, the house seemed so empty. It didn't take me long to realize how much I missed him already, and then, as I thought about it, I began to realize that I was falling in love with him, too. And it wasn't just for the phenomenal sex, Ted. David's the best lover I've ever had, but he's also the best, kindest, sweetest, most selfless and loving man I've ever met. I really am falling in love with him."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brook turning his head toward me again. "I'll be honest, Ted," he said, "when we first met at your wedding, David was just a novelty. Nothing more. I thought it was cute the way he was swooning all over me and flattering me to no end. I figured he might be good for a quick lay, but I certainly wasn't expecting anything to come out of it. We'd have our fun for the night and he'd go on his way the next morning and go back to The States and we'd never see each other again. I mean, hell. He's not even my type. If I saw him on the street, I wouldn't give him a second glance. I mean, really, Ted. Put Brad and Barry together in the same body and stuff them in a pair of pants and I'd be in Man Heaven. They're my type of guy. Big. Hunky. Buckets of muscles. Someone who can hold me and make me feel safe. But David is the total opposite to that. He's got that stupid, phony-assed hair and he's so damned short. I like a man I can hold onto, a guy with hair on his chest that I can run my fingers through. Not a plastic-smooth ‘Ken' doll. We're just not built for each other. But, damn it, Ted, as hard as I tried to keep him out of my life, the sneaky little bastard found his way inside."

I thought about that, letting it sink in. I glanced briefly at Brook again and he was still looking at me.

"I'm not sure you can understand that, Ted," he continued. "It's not easy to explain. David's the last person I expected to fall in love with."

"Oh, I understand, alright," I told him. "I thought I was straight until I met Brad. Now I'm married to him. Life's funny, Brook. Sometimes it comes at you right out of left field and leaves you standing there breathless and wondering what just happened."

"Yeah. I guess you do understand. Tell me. What do you think about me and David?"

"I hate to sound cliché," I told him, "but I think it was meant to be. I think you two were made for each other."

Brook smiled lightly, then said pensively, "I'm really glad he's here, Ted." He turned his head away from me, staring out the van window once again. He mumbled something, but I could barely hear him. Still, I'm pretty sure he said, "David makes me happy."

* * * * *

"We've got to make it happen," David said into his mug of coffee, "or I'm screwed."

"Say what?" Brad asked. "Make ‘what' happen?" We were sitting in the livingroom, the adults sipping coffee and Justin and Jeremy kneeling on the carpet near the coffee table dunking their cookies into their glasses of chocolate milk. Mom was busy about the house doing whatever Mom does to keep herself busy during the day.

"There isn't much left in the house back in Albany," David explained. "I spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday carting most of my stuff to pawn shops and second-hand stores just to get rid of it. I didn't even have a bed Wednesday night. It went to Goodwill with the rest of my furniture. I slept on the floor."

"Why didn't you just have it all shipped up here?" Brad asked. "They can bring it across the border, can't they?"

"Too many memories of a life I don't want to remember," David said bluntly. "I've got new friends. A new boyfriend. New country. New life. New family. New everything. I said to you before I left last week, Ted. Remember? There wasn't anything there for me to go back to. Nothing to keep me there. Now there's really nothing to keep me there. Well, almost nothing. I gave my landlord two months' notice and paid the rent for August and September, but I told him the place would be empty by September. Brook's going to go back with me sometime in August and we'll finish clearing out the place and giving it a good cleaning, and then I'm done with it. If I never go back there again, it will be too soon for me. I've got to find a way to stay here, and I'm asking for your help."

David, it appeared, was here to stay.

We spent the afternoon talking about the new house. David avoided commenting on the building costs mainly because he had no idea of Canadian prices, but he did reaffirm the fact that ‘sweat equity' could save many thousands of dollars. "I'll help as much as I can," he promised.

"We both will," Brook assured me.

They rode into the city with me and Brad and the boys to pick up Lindsay from camp, then we all returned back home for supper. It was late when they finally left to head back into Toronto.

True to his word, David returned on Saturday and again, with Brook, on Sunday. Nathan, too, had joined us for both days although Barry was working a weekend shift and showed up only for short periods of time and really couldn't help us very much.

Brad and I spent our second-week anniversary filling two dumpster bins of dirty, smelly, sooty garbage on Saturday. Late in the afternoon, with the filled bins taken away, two empty bins were set on the front lawn to get us through the rest of the weekend. By the time we boarded up the house Sunday evening, dirty and dragging our feet and barely able to move because of the pain and stiffness in our bodies, the basement had been emptied of everything it had been possible to take out of it.

It had been Brad's idea to use snow shovels and a snow scoop from his father's storage shed to scoop the loose debris into a pile near the ladder. From there, it was a simple matter of bagging it and taking it away. I filled the bags. Brad and David carted them up the ladder. They also managed to dispose of the crumpled stove which had fallen through the kitchen floor a week earlier.

Brook and Nathan, meanwhile, worked upstairs and packed up as much as they could from the livingroom and our bedroom. By that time, we had pretty-much been through everything and salvaged what we could and moved it to the garage or to Maple Grove. What remained wasn't worth trying to save.

The work was mind-numbingly difficult and exhausting for someone such as myself who really wasn't used to such manual labour, but there was such a feeling of accomplishment that went with it - a feeling that we were, indeed, finally accomplishing something as we strived to put our lives and our family back together again.

Yet, it was only the beginning. There was still a very long and very challenging way to go.

To Be Continued​

 

[Kyanimal]

Hey, Neil!

I know that You're likely tired of my continued urgings to publish Your work. And, I can fully understand Your own "reluctance" to do so, eventhough You're already doing it "Here", on JUB! However, and I have to say this, "So What?" if You realize some Tangible results for Your work? I mean ... that can't be all that "Bad", can it??

But, even more importantly than "That!", I sincerely believe that "The World" DESERVES the "right" to experience YOU!

What YOU have created "Here", and with Your other stories, SHOULD be more thoroughly Shared! The way that You manage to Open Your Heart, to Your Brain, to You Fingers, to the Keyboard, is nothing short of Amazing!!

YOU have a Talent, eventhough You may not think so, that the "Rest of The World" would Adore!! And, could certainly Use!!

You already Know that Hundreds, if not Thousands, of Hearts, and Minds, are eagerly awaiting Your next installment!

Just some "thoughts"! ...

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[crazy3]

Hey, Neil!

I know that You're likely tired of my continued urgings to publish Your work. And, I can fully understand Your own "reluctance" to do so, eventhough You're already doing it "Here", on JUB! However, and I have to say this, "So What?" if You realize some Tangible results for Your work? I mean ... that can't be all that "Bad", can it??

But, even more importantly than "That!", I sincerely believe that "The World" DESERVES the "right" to experience YOU!

What YOU have created "Here", and with Your other stories, SHOULD be more thoroughly Shared! The way that You manage to Open Your Heart, to Your Brain, to You Fingers, to the Keyboard, is nothing short of Amazing!!

YOU have a Talent, eventhough You may not think so, that the "Rest of The World" would Adore!! And, could certainly Use!!

You already Know that Hundreds, if not Thousands, of Hearts, and Minds, are eagerly awaiting Your next installment!

Just some "thoughts"! ...

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

I agree completely!

 

[harry113]

Thank you Neil, for another wonderful chapter!!
And, you know, Chaz is right!!!
Look forwards to next week.
Be good!!
Hugs
Harry

 

[GrayFox]

Another hand is raised in agreement.

 

[upyrkilt469]

Great chapter, Neil. I agree with the others, you really should publish.
Vic

 

[erasfred]

And another hand raised in agreement. I just cannot wait for the next chapter in Brad and Ted's lives.

Well done