Ambush

The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 41 Redemption and Absolution

Ron Hamilton was leaving Francini's Restaurant after dinner with Tim Minor. He was still amazed at Tim's genuine apology for dumping him years ago. He not only felt vindicated; he also felt a little uplifted. Some former friends of Tim's had stopped by their booth to catch up with what was happening in his new life. Since Ron wanted to attend Templeton High's basketball game that evening, he politely took his leave with both Tim and him promising to keep in touch. Ron still felt warmed by the pleading look in Tim's eyes about maintaining contact. As Ron reached the foyer, Tony Francini hailed him from across one of the dining rooms. Ron waited while Tony hustled over. "What's up?" Ron asked.

Tony began without preamble. "Evan stopped in for dinner this evening. I told him that Tim and you were dining together here."

Ron frowned. 'I'll bet Evan's demons are dancing now,' he thought. "Is he still here?"

"No, he shot out the door when I told him."

"Did he say anything?"

"No. . . . thought maybe you two would want to connect."

"Yeah," Ron said, pondering what he ought to do. "Thanks, Tony. I'll take care of it. I appreciate your telling me."

"You know Angela and I care about you guys, right?" Tony asked, his brows raised in question.

"Yes, we know." Ron smiled reassurance to Tony. "Talk to you soon," Ron said as he turned to leave.

Since he wanted to make the ball game, he decided he'd hustle over to Evan's. He didn't want Evan tearing himself down any longer than necessary. Ron's intimate experience with Evan assured him that Evan was presently engaged in that very activity. Maybe he could lure Evan to the ballgame.

As Ron was driving the route to Evan's home, he tried to figure out what Evan was thinking so that he'd know how to reassure him. When Evan answered the door and saw Ron there, his head cocked to the side as though to say, "I can't believe this." Ron noticed that the customary smile was missing. Evan opened the glass screen door. "Hey. Come in."

Ron moved inside and into the sunroom. Evan followed. Ron took a seat. "Tony told me you'd come by for dinner."

"Oh . . ." Evan said, "of course. I should have known."

"Don't read conspiracies into this, Evan. Tony told me because he wanted us to talk."

Evan's chin had raised a little, both of the men recognizing that Ron had correctly identified Evan's mindset. "I have to observe the irony here," Evan began. "We hardly talk about anything anymore. But let Tim Minor come to town, and we NEED to talk. I feel no compunction to discuss Tim."

Ron decided not to reply to that remark. "You never returned Tim's call a few weeks ago."

"I didn't see that we had anything to discuss."

"He wanted to tell you about the conference his office was holding here in town."

"I'd already heard about it. Mary Ellen Branson gushed it out one day in the Main Office."

"Tim didn't know that."

"I also had a feeling that the conference wouldn't be the only topic of conversation. I didn't need any more of Tim's barbs, tricks, or witticisms."

"He's changed, Evan. I saw it at dinner this evening." Evan couldn't block the skepticism that moved over his face upon Ron's announcement. Ron realized he'd have to start stepping carefully. This conversation was a minefield. "He's actually different, Evan." Before he could react, Ron held up his hand to stop a retort. "I know what you're thinking and feeling. I've been there too. That's why he really wants to talk to you. He cares a good bit about this conference, but what he really wants to talk to you about is the way he's changed."

"I don't put much stock in sudden conversions experienced by certain types of people."

"Please, Evan, hear him out. I don't ask for him although you'll be doing him a good turn if you listen to him. I know you may not be interested in doing Tim ANY good, but later you will be glad you two met this weekend to talk. I'm asking for you. You may be touchy, temperamental, and impatient . . ." At this point Evan's head reared back: what Ron said was true, but he didn't like having it pointed out.

"Gee, thanks for the compliment. Why do I feel chastened? Oh! How stupid of me!" Evan postured. "Circumstances always run amuck when Tim's around." Ron frowned. Evan looked so damned cute, tossing his head defiantly like that. Ron knew that, given the events at the restaurant, in Evan's mind it was Halsey against the world, prompted by fear. Finally, when it was clear Ron was not going to reply to his challenge, Evan relented. It seemed that all the fire and life had gone out of him as he melted back into his chair.

"I was going to say that you have a good heart. You crave justice and practice fairness, so let them come visit you in the person of Tim."

"So you're recommending that I see him? He hasn't even called me since he got to town."

"He will. I don't know when, but he will. See him, Evan. You won't be sorry. Can't you tell by my behavior that it was good for me to hear what he had to say? He ditched me the same way he did you, you know."

"Yes," Evan said emotionlessly. "I have to ask. Tim and you aren't starting up again?"

Ron frowned. Yeah, the demons had been dancing, and Evan had joined right in with the drum beat. "You know better than that. I love you, Evan, not Tim. How can you imagine that I would be interested in Tim after all this time and after you?"

Evan looked humbled. "Sorry." He said, looking off into space. "You know that there hasn't been much going on between you and me. To be honest, I feel that what we had is slipping away. So it's easy for me to believe the worst."

Ron jumped up and walked to Evan, lifting him out of his chair and pulling him into a gentle but fervent kiss, his hand holding the back of Evan's head. He broke the kiss, looking into Evan's eyes, which had taken on a dreamy look. Ron smiled, especially after Evan's complaint. "Horny, are we?"

Evan's eyes fired immediately. "You phony prick!" Evan said accusatorily, stepping back out of Ron's arms and away from him. "There's a sheen of sweat above your upper lip that wasn't there when you arrived. You're just as horny as I am." Ron saw Evan attempting to block a smile that wanted to be born.

"Really checking me out closely, aren't you? Damn, I love you, Evan." Ron grabbed Evan none too gently, pulling him into a tight hug and mashing his mouth on Evan's. Then he broke the kiss as rapidly as he started it. "I have hormones, you know. You turn me on! But Evan . . . Evan . . ." he said with increasing softness, "I love you, man. I love you! You! It's not just sex anymore. It's way beyond that. We're almost there. Can't you feel it?"

Evan sucked in a breath. "When you talk to me like that I do," he said, a little breathlessly. "Maybe we need to talk more often.

"That's a two-way street, you know. In that vein, come to the game with me. Templeton plays Pratt. It'll be a good match. It'll be good to be together."

"I know about the game. I had dinner with Miles and Jim at the cafeteria. They were eating before the game. I'd love to see it, but I'm bushed. Too much baggage from this evening. If I did attend, I might actually tune in to a third of the game - if I were lucky. And if I saw Tim there, he might want to talk. I wouldn't want to do that at a ballgame. How about the next game?"

Ron could tell that Evan wasn't just begging off. He was being honest. "Okay, Babe. Next game. I'll hold you to it." He stood and walked to the front door. Evan followed. When they paused, Ron pulled Evan into another gentle, warm kiss. They held it so long Ron could feel Evan trembling a little. 'Yeah,' he thought, "it's" working for us.'

Evan had retreated to the sunroom with a glass of Shiraz to contemplate the evening and try to sort out his feelings. It felt as though he'd been on a roller coaster. He was out of sorts with himself because he'd summoned that roller coaster and climbed on himself. 'Damn,' he mused. 'If I follow this line of thought, I'll be hating myself in ten minutes.' He heard a knock on the front door. 'My word,' he reacted mentally, 'this was supposed to be a solitary evening at home.'

He walked to the front door and opened it, frowning before he could catch himself, for Tim Minor stood on the porch, offering him a dazzling smile.

Pausing for maybe ten seconds as though deciding what to do, Evan slowly reached to open the front door. Tim Minor missed none of these signs of reluctance.

"Yes?" Evan said evenly. He decided he didn't owe Tim a greeting even under the rules of hospitality.

"Hello, Evan. Thank you for talking to me. I understand that you'd rather not, but I need to talk to you - if you'll allow it. I think it can help us both. And just so you know, I've already said to Ron what I'm going to say to you."

Evan stood back, saying tonelessly, "Come in. Why don't we go to the sunroom? I'm having a glass of Shiraz. Would you care for one?"

"Yes, I would. Thank you," Tim replied.

If anything, Evan's emotions were more atumble. Tim looked even better than he had when Evan had last seen him. And, damn him - he could still turn Evan's crank, for Evan's cock had started hardening when he spied the full tonsure of black hair framing his bald head, his astonishingly broad shoulders, his slim waist, his tall body and long, shapely legs. He never knew another man who could make bald look so hot. Tim had noticed when Evan turned to go to the kitchen for the Shiraz that he had a bulge in the front of his slacks. But rather than snickering about it or feeling superior, it humbled him to know that Evan still had enough feelings for him that he was responding to his presence. The old Tim would have taken advantage of the knowledge in some way. The new Tim wanted to do something for Evan.

Evan set the wine glass on a table by Tim's chair. "Thank you, Evan. I'll bet you know I had dinner with Ron this evening."

"Yes, Ron stopped by afterwards."

"Good." Not pausing a moment, Tim plunged in. "I owe you so many apologies, Evan, that I don't feel I can do justice to you. I've caused harm, done mischief, embarrassed, and hurt you greatly. In honest confession, I have to declare that I behaved as I did because I was falling deeply in love with you. I was losing control. Even though you never intended it, you were exerting so much pull on me through your love and your need. Your being injured compounded it because you really were relying on me. The sex was sweet and exciting. And your having Jeremy living here was too much temptation. It could easily have turned into a family for me. I've always wanted a family, at the same time knowing I could never keep one. I'd be one of those guys who run away from that."

Tim paused, blushing. "I was one, wasn't I - one who ran off?" Evan didn't answer. "You loved me Evan, and I feel honored by that. Jeremy would have loved me too. Both of you were so needy in your own ways. And I was finding that I was needing you in ways that were frightening me. Oh hell, Evan, you're smart. You've figured all this out. Right?"

"Yes," Evan said softly. "Doesn't make it hurt any less to have figured something out. It only takes away the mystery so that one can begin to study the root causes."

"I ran. Ran like a coward, Evan. Right to Alan. The sex - hell, the romance - with you was so good that I couldn't abstain cold. I needed someone to take your place who would ultimately be impossible as a romantic partner for me. Before you say it, allow me to admit that I used Alan. He's a nice guy and didn't deserve it. I know he's told you about Jacob Vance, his lover. They're good for each other, Evan. Alan's far better off with Jacob than he would have been with me. And this point brings me to one of my reasons for talking to Ron and you."

Tim continued: "I was counting so much on Ron's being your Jacob, the guy who was a thousand times better for you than I. You'll have to admit that I went to some lengths to set you two up. So what happened? You owe me no answers, but I have to ask because, by my reckoning, you two are perfect for each other."

Evan was looking levelly at Tim. No smile. "We got off on the wrong foot. Everything for us revolved around sex. That was fine to start with, but there wasn't anyplace for the relationship to grow. Sex alone can be a dead end. It's only when it extends from love that it can cement, energize and build a relationship. In itself, sex as a foundation is no more stable than the next guy's body, cock, and balls. We wanted more. Ron realized that we had to start over to head in the right direction. That's what we're doing now." Evan gulped. "At least, I think that's where we are now." Again he paused, studying Tim. "It would be incorrect to take what has happened with Ron and me as a failure of your redemptive scheme."

Evan's last sentence wrapped itself around Tim, making him admire again the link between Evan's intelligence and language. Damn! That could be sexy too. He doubted Evan thought so. Probably just as well. Evan didn't need a big head like the old Tim had.

"I'm glad. Really. I can't do with words what you can, Evan, but maybe you can read me analytically enough to realize that I'm being entirely truthful."

Evan stared at Tim for the longest time. "Yes," Evan finally said.

Evan's short replies told Tim that Evan was listening but not trusting. Maybe that was the price he had to pay for past behavior. "As Brandon's lover, I'm in the best position I'll ever know, Evan. That's not to diminish what I had with Ron or with you. If you weren't stellar guys, I wouldn't have been attracted to you. It was just that I wasn't the guy to do you justice." A look into his eyes told Evan that Tim was speaking from the heart. "Brandon Parker is the guy for me. I believe Alan told you about Brandon and me. I support the homosexual side of Brandon's make-up, and because I fear deep entanglements, he knows I won't make problems for his marriage, family standing, or political career. We're ideal for each other." He paused, looking down. "I was never the guy for you, Evan. That's why I connected you with Ron. He's a guy who's perfect for you."

Evan's eyes flashed. "How do you know who's perfect for me? You couldn't even stick around long enough to really get to know me. What we had could have changed you as Brandon has."

Tim paused. "I deserved that. At the same time I have to observe that I was around enough to know you too well. Maybe even better than you know yourself."

Evan just stared, but Tim knew Evan was examining the statement, for it was a challenge to him, and Evan knew Tim meant it to challenge.

"So what do you know about me that I don't know?"

"The same things you credit Susan Connolly with knowing about you."

Evan's eyes widened. The talisman, Susan, had been invoked. "You spend way too much time fearing rejection. You give so much of yourself, but you don't ask for nearly enough from others. You just gratefully lap up what they decide to offer you." Evan turned a bright red. "You don't like yourself even as much as I like you." Evan's color deepened. "Your feisty nature is entirely defensive; in fact, you hide behind it. You can't rise above your past enough to move into a really distinctly new future. But you expect that from everyone else with whom you connect." Evan's chin and shoulders sank a little. "You want to be protected by those who love you, but you can't even let them in, close enough, for them to really protect you because you are constantly defending against future betrayals." Tim saw tears beginning to glitter in Evan's eyes. "You never expect anything good that happens in your life to last long. You think that once Jeremy graduates from college, you'll be history unless he needs something from you. You believe the students who love you will move off into lives of their own, to which you will be an oft forgotten footnote. I'm suddely realizing that you believe that what's happened with you and Ron is a natural progression for relationships in your life. You're afraid of growing old alone." Tim heard a small choking sound in Evan's throat. Evan looked away. Tim could have gone on, but he'd made his point. Evan wasn't up to hearing more.

"You unmitigated bastard!" Evan croaked, trying valiantly not to allow the tears in his eyes to spill. "Why is time spent with you so wrenching?"

"Not time spent with me," Tim replied softly, "time spent with unacknowledged truths."

"Well here's a truth: tell me whom I allowed close who then ditched me. Who contributed to these fears, taught me that I'd be crushed if I didn't defend against them. Tell me, damn it!"

"I'm one of those people, of course," Tim said lightly. "I'm not proud of it. That's why I came to apologize to Ron and you. I CAN'T earn redemption if I don't acknowledge these past injuries. In addition, if I didn't care anything about you at all, I wouldn't possess such intimate knowledge of you. If nothing else, it should verify the love I felt in the past and feel in the present for you. . . . I'm not your enemy, Evan. When you count on the fingers of your hands the people who believe wholeheartedly in you, I will be one of those."

Evan turned away so that Tim could not see his face. Tim arose and knelt before Evan, pulling him into his arms. Evan reluctantly allowed himself to drawn into Tim's arms. Tim could feel silent tremors moving through Evan's body. He gently ran his hand over Evan's back.

Eventually, Evan pulled back, looking at the floor so that neither Tim nor he could look the other directly in the eye. "That hurt," Evan whispered.

"Healing sometimes does," Tim said softly. "The truth often hurts, for we spend a lot of time ignoring and hiding from it, so that when the truth outs, it hurts."

Tim slowly ran his hands up Evan's arms. Then he arose, resumed his seat, and took a sip of the Shiraz. Perhaps a minute passed while Evan collected himself.

"Am I forgiven?" Tim asked softly.

"I don't know what good it does, but yes," Evan said softly.

"It does a world of good for you and for me."

"You have your exciting life, your job, a promising future, a lover. What more do you need?" Evan asked, not looking at Tim.

"If I leave wreckage strewn in my wake, I look like a shit . . . . I don't know how to put it. That's the image that leaps to mind now - a past strewn with debris. So the job, future, and lover don't mitigate that past. I should have been smarter. The present is informed by the past, follows it like a shadow, extends into the present. If I want that to work for me, I have to try to clean up my past. I came to understand this life principle in an usual conversation Brandon and I had."

Tim paused, taking another sip of wine. "A couple of months ago, Brandon and I had been apart for almost two weeks - too long for us. When we were able to be together, we made hot passionate love - not sex, love. The afterglow was powerful.

We couldn't keep our hands off each other. And we started talking. As I stated, it was an unusual conversation. Brandon is careful to keep his two lives separated. We sort of have an unspoken rule that we just don't talk about his marriage or family and he doesn't ask about my former lives. But this time he asked me how many guys had really made an impact on my life. I told him there were really only three, but one of those was a college student for whom our being together was just hot sex, as it was for me. We both knew that from the get-go. Brandon had met Alan, so he knew of whom I spoke. He'd already chewed me out for staging it so that Alan would find us in bed, so he said nothing at that point."

Tim looked off a bit. Then his eyes swung back to Evan. "So he wanted to know who the other two were. Before I knew it, I was telling him all about Ron and college and you and Templeton High School. When I finished, he lit into me for the way I ended my relationship with Ron and you. He was even angrier on this occasion than he was that time I ended it with Alan. Well, no, that's not correct. He was angry for the way I didn't end it with you two. Just hit and run, so to speak. Brandon is actually one of those noble folks. I don't know how he can stay that way and remain in politics, but he has."

"So you are doing this to get back in Brandon's good graces?" Evan stated, a caustic tone in his voice.

"I know it seems that way, but believe me, Brandon's the sort that won't allow you to worm your way into his 'good graces,' as you put it. What I've been hoping is that somewhere down the line he could meet Ron and you."

"Trot your trophy in front of us, you mean?" Evan asked.

"Damn it, Evan. NO!" Tim exclaimed, arising and walking about the room. "I know I've caused your skepticism. Tell me what to do to allow you to see that I really want Ron and you to be in love. I really care about you. Whatever it does or doesn't do for me with Brandon is beside the point. I want you guys happy. I WANT it for you! And I'd like for Brandon and me to have some quality buddies."

His vehemence made Evan lean back a little in his chair.

Tim returned to kneel in front of Evan, placing his hands just above Evan's knees. He took a breath. "There are four guys who've been important to me. You have figured largely in my experience, my thoughts, my memories. You've evoked the best from me. You make me who I am. You think Ron, Alan and you aren't in my thoughts many times a week? You are! I neither can nor want you out of my life. Your presence honors me, confers dignity and worth. THAT'S WHY I'M APOLOGIZING," he said firmly, gripping Evan's legs. I want to purge the ugliness I caused but hang onto the goodness all of you represent. If I don't have some kind of relationship with you, I'll be a . . . pygmy. And if you are important to me, you know Brandon is too. I'd like to bring all that together sometime. It has nothing to do with trotting out trophies. It has everything to do with sharing treasures."

Evan and Tim were looking into each other's eyes. Tim leaned forward, slowly closing his eyes and touching his lips chastely to Evan's. He felt a quick intake of breath from Evan. They backed off. Then Evan moved slowly forward and returned Tim's chaste kiss. Tim squeezed Evan's legs before arising and returning to his wine. He sat again on the sofa and took a sip. "Can't we honor each other? Be friends? I'd like that, Evan. I need it. I have no right to ask it. But I shall because I know your good heart. I know you'll grant it."

Evan stared at Tim for the longest time. "I understand," Evan said softly. "Okay," he said with a little resignation, "we'll be friends although I don't know exactly what that means. You're at the capital and we're here."

"Opportunities will arise, or we can create them," Tim said. "I've already told Brandon I'd like him to visit here with me. There would be legitimate reasons for him to pay a political visit here. We could have maybe even a week together. So I'd want him to meet you guys - if you agree, that is."

"Okay," Evan replied, a little bewildered by the turn of events.

"I'll never dishonor our friendship again," Tim whispered. "It's one of the most important foundations in my life." They must have sat like that for five minutes before Tim announced that he had to be getting back to the hotel. As Evan walked him to the front door, Tim pulled him into another embrace, one that warm friends would share.

On Monday, Troy and Cody had started psyching themselves up for the game against Pratt Senior High School, a heated cross-town rivalry for generations. By Tuesday, they included team members. Troy started: "Hey Jim, wouldn't it be great if Pratt's power forward fell for the feint you pulled with Rockford's forward? Remember how it felt executing that great maneuver?" Later, Cody joined in: "Gabe, think you'll get another great steal against Pratt the way you did from that Woodrow Wilson High guard? Remember how that unfolded in your mind?" Before long, all the team members, including the stringers, were playing "What If." Overhearing snatches of the exchanges, Dave Hernandez could barely hide a killer grin. He knew what Troy and Cody were doing. And he was going to stay out of it so that the important team vibes the Dynamic Duo were inculcating could occur unimpeded. He even thought that if he were visited by the flu before the ballgame, Troy and Cody could coach the team to victory against Pratt.

The night of the game, when Templeton grabbed the opening tip, the magic started. Troy and Cody were so attuned that they commanded the court, communicating by glances and smiles, moving down the court, weaving in and out of bodies, modeling poise as they shot the ball to the basket effortlessly. But they also shot smiles to each other and slapped each other on the butt if they were nearby. Before the end of the first quarter, the team was heir to the magic, so in sync that members anticipated each other's moves perfectly. On offense, they often seemed a choreographed ensemble - no hesitation, no stalling, no frantic haste, no awkward moves. At that point, Troy and Cody were laughing out loud with joy as the net burned with their shots and those of their teammates. The Templeton fans were abuzz, energized by the magic on the court.

The Pratt players were flummoxed, thrown out of step. They just couldn't do anything right. They couldn't even control the ball, so Templeton was grabbing rebounds and shooting the majority of the time. When Pratt called a time out, the first words out of Dave Hernandez's mouth in the huddle were "What are you guys on? Tell me so I can lay in a supply of it." They all laughed uproariously, catching the attention of the opposing team and the fans in the stands. Back on court, the laughter was infectious so that the team was joining in with Troy and Cody. Dave Hernandez was laughing too. He had caught the magic in the air. They were all amazed that no words needed to be spoken. They understood the joy that pervaded them all. It was beautiful, aesthetic, exciting - bodies moving in harmony and concert with each other, but minds as well. It was all there - muscle intelligence, cognitive intelligence, spatial intelligence, emotional intelligence, maybe even a kind of spiritual intelligence.

The entire team played that night, for Dave Hernandez wasn't a coach who was into "poll politics," piling up points just to capture top votes with pollsters. He doubted polls ever helped a team do much more than get big-headed and make mistakes. Besides, if Templeton was a good team, they would prove that eventually. He never allowed the city or league polls to be posted in the locker room, and he had his assistant coaches actively discourage any discussion or focus on them. Roy Morgan, Troy's father, had snorted in derision when he had first heard this. Winning was everything! It was one of the reasons he had no respect for Dave Hernandez.

With the final buzzer, the team moved to celebrate with Coach Hernandez and the team members on the bench. They barely had time to beat the fans, who rushed out of the bleachers to mob them. It was joyful pandemonium, time for the fans to join with the team, share a little in their glory. When Cody saw Jonah Stedman standing alone, watching all the back-slapping, smiling, happy to be just up close, he walked over to him and hugged him, sweaty as he was, lifting Jonah off the floor and whirling him around. Jonah didn't care. He'd never felt so accepted before. When Cody set Jonah down, there was Burt Graham and his buddies, Austin, Chad, and Rex. Burt grabbed him in a hug. Austin, Chad, and Rex each shook his hand, offering congratulations for a win. Cody saw Greg Dunwoodie and Denton Cooper congratulating Troy. It felt great to Cody to spread it around with these guys.

After the game, Susan was to attend a slumber party at the home of Rosalie Rodriguez. She would have preferred enjoying the afterglow of the victory with her two men, for she knew they were especially ardent on the occasion of a victory, making certain to draw her into their magic. But Rosalie was one of their circle of friends, and she was counting on Susan's presence to make it a slumber party to be discussed for the next week.

Rosalie felt her social cachet needed a boost. She and Luis Mendoza had broken up. Luis had found a woman older than Rosalie. He was gentlemanly about it, meeting with Rosalie to tell her what had happened. Still, it had hurt. She made the mistake of asking who the woman was. Luis took it as a pretext to recount ALL her attributes glowingly. Rosalie could hardly miss seeing how enthralled he was. She doubted he'd remember her at all in a year. Finally she could take it no longer, so she arose and walked away, fighting back tears. Luis He kept on talking for a while, not realizing that Rosalie was leaving. He yelled after her, but she kept on her way without turning back.

Susan had been looking for possible replacements for Luis. The weekend Troy's brothers had visited had given her a lead. She just had to figure out a means for connecting Rosalie and her next beau - Susan hoped. As Susan left for the party, the guys kissed her hotly, promising her that Saturday night was their night together. Since Troy and Cody were on their own. They met Jeremy and Kenny and others after the game at a diner where they liked to hang sometimes. As the evening wore on, Troy leaned over to whisper to Cody, "Hey, Hot Stuff, I want you in my bed tonight. Call your folks and tell them you are staying overnight with me." Cody's grin was immediate and lascivious.

The second Kenny spotted Cody's grin, he punched Jeremy. "Hey Jeremy, Cody's got that grin on his face. Somebody's getting lucky tonight." He and Jeremy chuckled. Cody punched Kenny playfully on the shoulder as he went to find a phone. Troy smiled companionably. "You can always join us, you know. We'll be at Evan's. Plenty of room."

"We're tempted," Jeremy replied. "But we told Kenny's parents we'd stay there tonight. I have to work tomorrow, and Kenny promised to help Joe, his dad, early in the morning with a spring cleanup of the yard. Besides, it means kinky role- playing in little Kenny Walters' childhood bed," Jeremy leered. Kenny's grin was so wide it almost cracked his face.

Troy wagged his eyebrows. "Another time then, Dudes." At that point Cody returned, so Troy arose to leave. They bid their assembled friends good night and hustled out to the car and home. They let themselves in quietly so as not to awake Evan and quietly moved to Troy's bedroom. They were so busy ripping off their clothes that they didn't bother to close the bedroom door. They stopped at their briefs, studying each other. "Hey, Man," Cody exclaimed, "when did you start wearing boxer briefs? You look hot in those. They're putting iron in my dick." Troy did look hot. The leg bands and cotton they finished were stretched tightly around his well-developed legs. Cut short, the waistband just above his hips; the white cotton briefs fit his beautiful ass like a glove. His confined cock formed an obscene bulge in the front. Cody slid one hand slowly over that mound, finding that even his big hand didn't cover it completely. He used his fingers to gently test its rigidity, causing Troy's breathing to speed up a bit.

"I just decided to try out a pair," Troy said, extending his hands around Cody, sliding each one over a cotton-enclosed ass cheek, massaging them slowly, enjoying the steel muscles that lay beneath the taut cotton. He bumped his cock mound into Cody's equally respectable bulge. Troy slid a hand under the elastic band in the back of Cody's tighty-whities, slowly closing his eyes and moaning as his hand absorbed the warmth from the smooth skin. Soon his other hand joined its partner in caressing Cody's ass. With tantalizing slowness, Troy pushed his index finger into Cody's crack as his other hand slid up the curve of Cody's ass. His skin felt dry and smooth, so when Troy moved his hand back the way it came, he pushed two fingers deeper into the crack, delighting in feeling light sweat there.

Brazenly, Cody slid the fingers of one hand straight into Troy's crack, meeting sweat immediately. "You're really wet. I love the feel of your sweat. Makes me feel like I'm enjoying your real essence."

Troy nuzzled Cody's face. "It's you, Man, you - you get me all hot and bothered. This evening on the court was just foreplay. Before the end of the first quarter, I knew I was going to fuck you tonight, to claim you again."

Cody pulled his fingers to his nose and sniffed loudly. "I love the smell of your ass, Bro. . . . It WAS foreplay, wasn't it? Almost as good as this," and he held his fingers to Troy's nose for him to sniff. "I wanted you all evening. I wanted you to fuck me. We played as one on the court; now I want us to be one in love," he said, leaning into Troy's lips, gently licking them, teasing the outer surfaces with his tongue as Troy tried to trap it between his lips. Cody moved a hand around the front under Troy's briefs, ever so gently caressing the big flared head of his dick.

Troy pulled him into a passionate embrace as they ground their cocks against each other. When he broke the long kiss, Troy pulled the bedclothes down in one grand, sweeping gesture. With one arm he grabbed Cody about the waist, and whirled them onto the bed, where they fell into another passionate embrace and kiss with Troy on top. "All evening it's felt as though I inhabited your body and you inhabited mine. Now I want that physically. Oh, Cody, it felt so good tonight! I was hard most of the game."

Cody snickered. "I know. I saw that you were when you were dribbling down the court, bending low. From the back there was a distinct bulge between your legs. Couldn't see it from the front, only the back. Your dick must have been down and sticking out of the bottom of your jock."

"It was. You did that, Lover. A couple of times when the play was hot and when we were moving fast so that my legs were rubbing the head of my cock, and I was looking at you - I thought I might cum - that's how turned on I was. I love you so much, Brother Lover!" he said, kissing Cody hotly.

Their murmurs restored the excitement of the evening, so Troy couldn't help rubbing his body all over Cody's. They pulled each other's briefs off, dropping them on the bed. Both were moaning, kissing, squeezing, pummeling each other - males in rut. In no time, precum was seeping from their hard cocks. Their stomachs became so awash with it that their movements were producing slick, squishing noises. "Lover," Cody gasped, "I'm so hot, but let's make this last. Let's make this special."

"We'll have to slow down, then," Troy whispered. "I know . . . wait a minute."

He climbed off Cody, walked out of the bedroom in the direction of the storeroom. Cody heard that door opened and a light flicked on. After a few minutes he heard the light flicked off and the door shut. Troy entered the room with pieces of rope. Cody immediately laughed. "Oh, Lover, tie me up. Tie me down. I'm yours." Troy was grinning big time as he did just as his lover requested, tying Cody's hand with a length of rope and tying the other end to the headboard. But after he tied the rope around Cody's wrist, he kissed it softly. Then he started slow cat licks up just the pads of Cody's fingers, making Cody moan and his cock pulse faster. Next he moved to Cody's nipples, which he savaged painfully but pleasurably before sticking his nose and tongue in Cody's pit where he sniffed and licked loudly. He repeated the process with the rope and Cody's other hand.

"What about binding my feet?" Cody asked.

"Unh-unh. I want those loose for . . . maneuvers," Troy whispered throatily. He threw himself on Cody, kissing him with major tongue action. Then he licked Cody's ears, passing his tongue inside, nibbling on his ear lobes, drawing sighs. He licked along Cody's jaw, loving the feel of the stubble there. "You are such a stud," he whispered. "You make my dick so hard it hurts." Cody made no reply; he was breathing heavily. Troy moved down to the hollow under Cody's Adam's apple, licking slowly there, nibbling the edges, turning his head to the side to watch precum flow out of the end of Cody's hard dick, which was standing straight up, still beating time in the air.

Troy rose up, knee-walking to Cody's chest, stopping when his knees were even with Cody's pecs. He held his own pulsing cock above Cody's lips. When Cody raised his head for a taste, Troy would move his cock away, making Cody whimper for his prize. Catching the scent of Troy's hard dick, Cody tried to reach out with his hands to grab hold of Troy's hot cock, but the ropes held him back, making him moan in frustration. Troy didn't tease Cody long, for he himself couldn't forgo the pleasure he knew Cody's mouth would give him. With a gleam in his eye, Cody slowly drew the tip of his tongue through the precum on the underside of Troy's cock, making Troy's ass quiver. He repeated the track of his caress, using his full, flat tongue to maximize the touch for Troy. Taking up the challenge, Troy reached behind him, using his hand to slowly massage the head of Cody's cock with the slick precum there. It had the effect he desired because Cody was moving his ass in circles trying to avoid the hand massage that was giving him almost too much pleasure.

Gradually, Troy moved forward, allowing his balls to come within swiping range of Cody's tongue. Not one to miss a sexual opportunity, Cody immediately began sliding his tongue over them to catch the salty taste he knew he'd find there. Troy moved up even more until his crack was over Cody's talented mouth and tongue. Cody took a loud sniff, moaning, "I want it," and then he stuck his tongue right between Troy's cheeks, pushing his face into the crack until his tongue hit Troy's warm hole. He was almost dizzy when the scent of Troy's ass hit his olfactory senses, causing him to moan once again.

Afraid that he might blow from just the pleasure of Cody's ministrations to his ass, Troy moved back down Cody, lifting his legs and pushing them back against Cody's chest, peering lecherously at Cody's winking pucker. Cody was so excited that he couldn't control the muscles there, for he knew what Troy was about to do. Troy lost no time rimming Cody, for he loved the smell of Cody's ass too. "Sometimes in class, when I need a thrill, Bro," Troy spoke softly, "I call up from memory the smell of your ass. It always gives me a boner." Cody moaned softly.

Finally, Troy backed down, raised Cody's legs, and worked lube around and into his hole. He took his time easing in one finger, then two, then three, all the while caressing, nibbling, licking Cody's body, caressing his cock and balls, tweaking his nipples. He snickered because Cody was feeling so much pleasure that he couldn't hold his ass still. Finally, he moved the head of his big cock up to Cody's ass lips, slowly pushing in. When he'd breached the ring, he stopped. As Cody's muscles relaxed around his cock, Troy slowly pushed inside, saying, "Bro, I love you just as much as I do Susan. . . .I don't know when it happened. . . . It's like each of you completes a half of me . . . so when I have the two of you, I couldn't be happier." At this point, Troy was fully in Cody, so he began a slow pump.

Cody leaned up as much as his bonds allowed for a kiss to seal Troy's words. After the kiss, Troy whispered, "I felt like we were twins on the court tonight . . . two halves of the same cell. . . . I guess it seems narcissistic, but loving you . . . is like loving myself."

"I know," Cody said softly. "I remade myself into you because I love and respect you. . . . Yeah, Troy Morgan, Cody Saxon respects you. . . . I don't respect many people . . . but I do you. I'm excited every second I'm with you. . . . And when we're making love . . . it's like we merge into one."

Troy would pump until he knew he'd moved into the danger zone. Then he'd lower himself on Cody, using his mouth to express the love his dick had been communicating. When Troy was pumping, Cody would push back onto Troy, clasping his ass muscles tightly around Troy's cock, making him moan and sweat. "Play tonight's game in your head," Cody encouraged. The mental images ramped up the heat of their lovemaking, causing more pauses. "Troy . . . Troy . . ." Cody finally whispered, "take us over . . . I need for you to cum in me . . . I need to cum against you . . . please . . . please, Man . . . I need you!"

Nerves and muscles at the base of Troy's spine kicked in, making his big, fat dick a pneumatic drill, for he plunged into Cody hard and fast, sending them both over the edge. They moaned loudly and exclaimed repeatedly, for the pleasure had been building since the beginning of the ball game.

Coming slowly to a rest, Troy must have lain on Cody for ten minutes, basking in the afterglow. Cody had been giving Troy little kisses around his head and face. "I missed Susan," Troy whispered, "but I'm glad we had this time together, Bro. I love you so deeply Cody," he exclaimed, kissing Cody hard.

Gradually, Troy arose, walking to the bathroom to get a wet hand towel. He came back to his brother-lover, cleaning him and then himself with the towel. He freed Cody from his bonds, gently massaging his wrists and the muscles in his arms, then lying beside him and pulling him against his body. They lay like that for at least ten minutes, nuzzling and caressing each other. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," Cody whispered, "because Troy Morgan not only is my buddy and brother, he's also my awesome, hot lover. And we share a smart, beautiful girlfriend."

After brushing his lips against Cody's, Troy whispered, "It's so hot being here in this bed with you, caressing these muscles that worked just as mine did on the court. Loving the jock who scored so many points tonight. You completed me tonight, Cody; I'm not complete without you. I don't know if Susan feels that way about you. I hope she does. I want us to be a threesome forever. And I want the boys to feel that you are as much their brother as I am."

"How could Susan, you and me be a threesome after college?" Cody asked, sliding his tongue along Troy's lips.

When Cody had finished caressing Troy with his tongue, Troy replied, "I've got some ideas. We can make it work if we want too."

"Like how?"

Troy decided that Cody's persistence was a positive sign. "Susan and I marry, but you live with us. As far as we're concerned, we're each other's spouses. We're a family."

"Does that mean that only you and Susan have children? I'd like to have children too."

"No. We'll truly be a family. You have a child with Susan and I have one with her, assuming she's okay with that. I think she will be. She loves us both. The children will be ours and we'll be their parents. No distinctions. We'll all complete each other just as on the court tonight." He chuckled. "I'm talking about us as though we are Power Rangers!" Cody laughed as well.

A few weeks after the boys' weekend visit with Troy, while driving to work, Emily Morgan was assessing the state of her family. She knew when "it" had started. About a month before her husband Roy kicked Troy out of their home. Throughout their married life, Roy had kept to a schedule as regular as clockwork, just as he expected others in the family to do. However, he had begun arriving home at erratic times, claiming that late afternoon meetings at his company had run overtime, going out to a bar with office staff after work to celebrate someone's birthday, or taking clients to dinner, which he'd never done in the past. Roy was a manager in marketing; the people in sales usually squired potential customers around town. It surprised her that he expected her to buy that excuse. Sometimes he hadn't made it home until the boys were in bed. That was why he was still ramming around the house so that he could overhear that fateful late night phone call between Troy and Susan.

Their sex life had diminished to a third of what it was. That change had started with Roy's using sex to try to force her back into her former role and give him free reign in the family again. She let him know that their bed was not an arena in which sexual politics would be played out. After that, their sex life - she would no longer call it "making love" - really fell off. Now and again, when Roy arrived home really late, Emily smelled faint traces of perfume lingering on his dress shirts. If he hadn't been a chauvinist, he would have remembered that women frequently have sharper olfactory senses than men, especially when they abstain from smoking or are pregnant - though Emily was not expecting. What a disaster that would be! More than once, when Emily sorted the laundry, a task Roy would never deign to assume, she saw dried threads of semen that had dribbled onto the inside panel of Roy's briefs, shining when the light caught them. Another time, as he bent over to pull a towel out of the bathroom cabinet before showering, she spied a hickey on the bottom of his shapely left ass cheek.

No doubt about it. Roy was seeing another woman. Now that she thought about it, he wasn't even being really careful to cover his tracks. In his narrow way, Roy could be cunning when he wished. So that had to mean that he wanted her to know he was catting around. Did he expect her to beg him to drop the other woman? She knew that it would come with a price - that he be restored to his former position in the home with all that tyrannical power he loved. But if he was really caught up in this woman, Emily's capitulating to his request wouldn't stop the affair. Roy was not one to sacrifice his deepest desires. That was for others to do to please him. She snorted contemptuously at the prospect.

Emily was uncertain about what to do. With Troy's departure and her newly self-proclaimed role as family decision-maker, she had been charting unknown waters. To complicate matters, the family was too emotionally charged with issues at the moment for her to push the matter of Roy's infidelity. Even more, she'd really been wondering whether she wanted to be married to Roy any longer, no matter how good he was in bed and how much history they shared. She knew she had to answer that question in order to decide how to proceed with Roy. She asked herself what she was hanging onto when she liked sex with Roy but found him increasingly intolerable.

She needed to talk to someone. Certainly no one in her family. She was loath to open her life to anyone there, allowing it to be the topic of conversation for the month. She'd kept her life "close to her chest" so long that it only ensured that confiding in one of her sisters would set them all achatter and agog during their nearly weekly phone briefings. She sorted through her mind, wondering to whom she could turn. It hit her just as she drove into her parking space at work. Evan Halsey! He was settled, experienced in the world, had been married once, had been through a divorce, was a parent now, was highly respected at Templeton High, and had legions of parents as fans. She admired the cool, sensible, balanced way he handled the discussion of finances when it was decided that Troy would be staying at the Halsey home. As soon as Emily reached her office, she called Evan at school, leaving a "Call Back" request.

At noon, Evan reached her. She asked to talk to him about a personal problem. He was silent for several moments. She jumped in to say that it was okay if he wasn't comfortable with her request, for she knew they hadn't known each other long. That's why she thought he could help her. Evan assured her that his pause was due to wondering if one of the boys was experiencing a problem. She assured him that such was not the case. The problem was hers. They arranged to meet at Evan's on Saturday morning since Troy would have the boys out for their "Morgan Basketball Scrimmage" and Jeremy would be at work.

Come Saturday, Evan was bustling around the house, laundering towels when Emily arrived (baskets of towels to be laundered were a happy reminder that all the boys had been home several nights in the week). In preparation for the visit, he'd had the water on for tea, so he brewed Emily and himself her favorite, Constant Comment. "Pick your choice of where you'd like to talk," Evan invited. "Oh, the sunroom, please," Emily requested with a smile.

They settled themselves and observed the social amenities, asking about each other's sons. Emily had decided the best approach with Evan was straight up and out. "Evan, Roy is seeing another woman. I have thought about it enough to realize that I need to sound someone out about alternatives at this point. You were the one I thought could help me best."

Evan's brow creased when Emily had identified her problem. "Emily, I'm sorry to hear this," he commented, pausing a moment. "I must confess that you have sought out the worst person to serve as a sounding board. My wife did the same to me, compounded by a liaison with my father. . . . Double deception!" Evan murmured bitterly, blushing a little. "It's happened in other relationships after my marriage ended." Now he reddened fully. "So anything I would say to you would likely be biased with bitter feelings that I still harbor. Perhaps I could help you identify a better confidant."

"Please, Evan, I've thought about this. You've met Roy head on. You know the state of our family now. You know the boys. You've come through fire yourself. Please trust me to filter out any bias. I just need a careful mind, and I know you are the best one for that now."

Evan sighed. "I have misgivings about this, but I'll try my best . . .Why do you believe Roy is cheating on you?"

Emily related Roy's changed behavior and the signs she detected of his having an affair. Evan didn't color when she related the more intimate sexual details. When she finished, silence ensued.

Evan began. "I have to observe that you don't seem as upset about this discovery as some women would be. They'd be in tears, and I'd be hunting Kleenex for them by now, for they would have a sopping handkerchief. I don't know you well. I doubt that you are that kind of woman, but I'm not seeing any signs that you are terribly disturbed by these tidings."

Emily thought a moment before replying. "I don't know, Evan - we've been through so much at our home. Frankly, Roy's cheating doesn't feel nearly as bad as awakening to find that Roy had kicked Troy out of our home. I'm suddenly realizing this instant that that affected me more than finding out about Roy's wandering." She thought again. "I guess I'm not as upset as one would expect. It's good to know that," she said, looking off into the Norfolk pines.

"So what are you thinking about doing?" Evan asked.

"That's what I hoped to realize myself. I have to decide if I want to save the marriage or step out of it."

"What are the positives of maintaining the marriage?" Evan asked.

Again, she moved into deep thought. "One would think a stable home for the boys, but with Roy's presence the past few years, it's been anything but that. His rashly kicking Troy out of our home has left a void there for the other boys and for me. They seem a little more resigned about Troy's absence since their weekend here, but I'd be fooling myself if I believed that their feelings about home are settled now. Since I declared independence, Roy pouts around the house a lot. He barely holds in his fuming other times. On those occasions he's sharp with the boys. It makes for a stressful home life for them. We've all sort of given him wide passage when he's like that." She thought some more. "Certainly a more stable financial base for the family, but as comptroller at my corporation, I make quite a good salary, more than Roy actually. Life might be tighter economically if we were no longer married, but we'd get along okay without Roy's income." She thought more. "Actually, Roy doesn't behave like a mate now. I honestly can't say that I'd be losing all that much if our marriage ended." She laughed ruefully. I'm supposed to be enumerating positives of being married, but it sounds as though I'm really addressing the positives of being divorced."

"In the interest of looking at the complete picture, what would the negatives be of divorcing Roy?"

Again she paused. "I can't think that there would be anything but positives for the boys. For me, I know that at some point I'd miss a social life with a husband or a man I wanted to be with. I'd have to learn to tolerate loneliness. I could throw myself into the girlfriend thing, for I have divorced women friends, but I just can't see that accomplishing a lot for me. I'd miss the love of a man, for I know even now as I'm saying it that I need a man to love in my life." She smiled apologetically. "It's a common feeling among women in my family."

She was silent for a while. "It would be best for the boys to have a father figure in their lives. Roy isn't much of one now, and if we divorce, given the way he's withdrawn from us, he won't be much of a father then." She tilted her head to the side, looking off into space, pushing her lower lip out a little: "I'm not certain that I'd want him to be much a of presence in their lives if we divorce. I know the kind of woman he'll end up with. She'll be younger, smitten with Roy. With all that attention from her, he'll be feeling like a god. It's what he craves. She won't want to be sharing him with the boys. I doubt he'll want them around much as reminders that he's older than she wants to see him as being. I doubt she'll be too much older than Troy - probably post-college."

More silence and thought on her part. "No, I realize just this second that I don't want to remain married to Roy." She sat there, shaking her head in the negative, still thinking hard. "No, Roy is not at all flexible. He will never be comfortable with the new Emily Morgan. I feel guilty now that I allowed the former Emily to exist as long as she did. But I'm not going back to what I was. Roy should have a woman with whom he can be comfortable. . . Gee, I don't feel like crying at all. I just feel very sad - as when an elderly aunt who was a favorite in one's growing up years dies. . . How odd!"

"But how liberating to have realized your true feelings," Evan said softly. "So what do you intend to do now?"

"I'll have to talk to Roy. I think before I do that, I want to consult a lawyer. I'm not going to file on him without our discussing it first. I just want to find out what the important legal considerations are. Can you recommend a lawyer?"

"Well, I like my attorney, Miles Forbisher. He's a Southern gentleman. He's not into macho divorce law." She looked a little puzzled at Evan's remark. "Miles is not one who sees a divorce case as a chance to one-up and arm wrestle another attorney. He doesn't do verbal fisticuffs or shouting matches. He represented Jim Belton, a staff member at our school, in his divorce. It ended to the satisfaction of both Jim and his ex- wife, Brenda. In fact, I think both would claim to still be friends - and that was in the face of Jim's nearly losing the farm that had been in his family for generations so that a settlement with Brenda could be reached. I can't promise that your situation will be anything like Jim's and Brenda's. In fact, I think you may see a different Roy emerge when he knows you're divorcing him. Still, Miles would be good in that situation. The first half hour of your first consultation with him is free. If you decide you need an attorney other than Miles, he'll happily recommend another to you without feeling any slight at all. Let me give you his contact information."

Evan went to his study to write down the particulars. Upon Returning, he handed a slip of paper to Emily. "Feel free to use my name if you like." Evan sat down again. "What do you plan after you've talked to a lawyer? If you'd like Troy to bring the boys over here for a movie-pizza evening while Roy and you talk, they would certainly be welcome."

"Thank you. I'd like that. I don't think it wise for them to be there when I talk to Roy. I'll ask Roy to move out. When he's done that, I'll tell the boys. I'll want Troy there when I tell the boys, which brings up another issue. Would you be offended or upset if I reclaimed my son partially? He would be a great help if he were living at home again."

Evan visibly gulped, pausing a moment. When he spoke, his voice initially sounded slightly choked. "Of course you'll need him at home. He will insist on returning, I can assure you. He loves you all very much, and the boys are just at that point in their development where Troy's influence will be powerful and beneficial. I saw its immediate effects the weekend the boys were here. Troy is such a generator of love for all those who come within his sphere of care. He'll be leaving for college in a little over a year, so the time between now and his departure will be important for all of you." Evan paused, blushing, "Would you be opposed to the boys' coming over here for a sleepover now and again? It was so great having them here. I know they enjoyed the time out of their ordinary abode."

"Of course they can visit and do sleepovers. I'll insist on it. I don't want Troy to give up all his independence when he comes home to live. In fact, given Susan's, Cody's, and Troy's unusual relationship, I think Troy will want to keep his bedroom here if that isn't an imposition on you so that he can have time with them and sleep here some nights. I'm certain he'll be speaking to you about it. I know you've been tolerant of their staying overnight here together, for Troy told me so. It wouldn't be fair for Troy to give up everything just to resume his place in the family."

"That would be great," Evan exclaimed enthusiastically. Emily and Evan looked at each other, there seeming to be little else to be discussed at this point. "I'll say nothing to anyone about this, Emily, including Troy and Jeremy. The news should come from you."

"Thank you, Evan." She arose. Evan helped with her coat. "I'll keep you posted," she said as they walked to the front door. Emily quickly hugged Evan. "Thank you for giving me this time. It really helped. I consider you a friend now, Evan."

"As I consider you," Evan said softly in her ear.

About three weeks after the boys' weekend visit to Troy, Roy had observed them hugging more, throwing an arm over the other's shoulder more, fussing over Riley more. He hadn't liked it, further evidence that Troy's influence remained with the boys even if he'd been kicked out of the home. He'd tried to put a stop to the planned weekend, but Emily had pointedly told him the plans were made and they required no review from him. The boys were spending the weekend with Troy and that was that.

One evening, the entire Morgan family, excluding Troy, was at home. Emily was preparing dinner and running downstairs doing laundry. She'd fallen a little behind, for she'd become the typical "soccer mom," chauffering the boys to sports events and the like. Roy regarded this as her responsibility, so he seldom helped with it unless it was attending the boys' basketball games. Accordingly, she was trying to complete all the laundry that evening.

Roy had come home extremely irritable. 'Apparently he wasn't able to have some time with his chickie-boo,' Emily thought. After he'd snarled at the boys a couple of times - out of Emily's hearing - Drew and Justin had gone to their room to complete their homework. Roy had settled at the table in the dining room, reading the evening paper. Having finished their homework, the two older boys and Riley were sitting in the family room watching a soccer match on ESPN. When Emily had stuck her head in to ask Drew and Justin to set the table, they'd immediately arisen, talking excitedly about a goal in the match. As they walked in the room, they High-Fived and then bumped their hips together. Riley had come in and climbed up at his place at the table just to right of Roy, who was sitting there with the paper. "Damn!" he spouted off. "Ever since you boys stayed with Troy, you can't keep your hands off each other. All this hugging and touching! Did Troy turn you into a bunch of fairies while you were over there? Besides, you don't get excited about a soccer match. It's a faggy European game." Immediately, Drew and Justin cooled it, turning their faces into somber masks.

Emily had come into the kitchen just in time to hear Roy coming down on Drew and Justin. She stuck her head in the door. "Roy, I'm not going to listen to grousing like that this evening. If you've got a problem, you take it somewhere else. And I'll thank you to remember what I said about slurs." She saw his face redden as he prepared to reply tartly. To stifle him, she added, "If touching other people is an issue you feel compelled to address, then we'll talk about your extramarital 'touching,'" she said, her eyebrows arched in warning. Roy swallowed his planned retort so quickly that he choked. She stood there holding her ground until she heard the dryer buzz that a load was finished. She went to the basement to start another load.

Roy ducked behind the newspaper, but he was furious, intimidated, and a little worried. He wished Emily didn't earn the larger income. That fact seemed to box him in. Drew and Justin arched their eyebrows at each other. Riley sat there, looking from Roy to Emily and then Drew and Justin. He was taking it all in, but who could tell what interpretation he was giving it? Drew and Justin weren't certain what "extramarital" meant, but Drew intended to look it up in the dictionary. Roy was so steamed that he wasn't turning the pages of the newspaper. He was whipping them over so hard that he tore a page. Mumbling, he laid the paper flat on the table and continued reading.

It was too quiet for Riley. There were too many people around for it to be so quiet. "Hey Drew and Justin," Riley called, "I'm going to ask Troy if I can stay all night with him this weekend."

"We can't go this weekend, Riley. We're playing in the city junior high basketball tournament," Justin explained.

"Evan and Troy said you don't have to go with me. I can go by myself."

Roy put his paper down. "You are NOT staying all night with Troy, and that's all I want to hear about it."

Noting Riley's crestfallen look, Justin spoke up: "Troy and Cody are teaching us to play basketball with them, Dad. We're going to be a team. It's really helping."

"Oh boy, homo basketball!" Roy shot back.

Drew stood tall: "I'm not a homo," he stated emphatically. "Don't ever call me that again." Roy's face flushed with color. What had things come to: he was being braced by one of his sons in his own home!

Riley joined in: "We love Troy and Cody, Dad. All of them are teaching me to play basketball with them. That's why I'm going to stay all night with Troy."

"No, you aren't. I may be too late to stop Troy from being a fag, but I can stop it with you boys."

Riley stuck his chin out, speaking with vim and vinegar: "I am staying all night with Troy. Mom, Troy, and Evan said I could, so I am!"

"I'm your father, and I say you are staying home. I don't want to hear another word."

Riley's eyes began to tear up. "Why are you always messing it up for all of us?" Riley shouted tearfully at his father.

In less than the blink of an eye, Roy's hand swung around so fast and hard that his backhand slap to Riley's head catapulted Riley out of his chair and against the wall, which he hit with a loud thud, the chair whirling about and falling backwards. Riley's body immediately fell to the floor, motionless. Roy stared dumbly at Riley's little body as though he couldn't figure out what he was doing down on the floor.

"Dad! What the hell do you think you are doing?" Drew yelled angrily as he and Justin raced to Riley's side.

"You keep your hands off Riley!" Justin yelled at his father. Roy just looked startled.

Hearing the loud thump even from the basement, Emily recognized it as the kind of noise a parent investigates. She came running up the basement stairs. By the time she'd raced across the kitchen to the dining room door, she saw Drew and Justin gently rolling Riley over on his back. Roy was standing up, his startled look still in place. "Riley," Emily yelled, rushing to him. "What happened?" she asked Drew.

"Dad and Riley were arguing." Drew looked over at his father, his face flushed with anger. "Dad hit him so hard he flew out of his chair into the wall. You son- of-a-bitch!" he shouted at Roy. Emily gently picked Riley up in her arms. "Drew, wet a dishtowel with cold water and bring it to me." Drew arose and shot to the kitchen.

Roy seemed to be returning to his senses. "Damned kids arguing with their father. Calling him disrespectful names. I'm tired of what's been going on around here. From now on, I'm calling the shots again," he stated. One look at his wild eyes signaled to Emily how desperate he was.

"Think again, Roy. You are never going to be in control of events here if this is the way you are going to behave," Emily stated forcefully.

Roy stomped over to them, looking down at Emily. "Woman, I've told you the way it's going to be. Now shut up!" he said, glowering at her. She gently transferred Riley to Justin's arms, arose, walking to the phone in the kitchen. Roy watched her, surprised. She quickly touched a few keys on the phone. He couldn't imagine what she was up to. Probably calling Troy. Well, he'd take care of him when he arrived.

Suddenly Emily started speaking: "I want to report a case of child abuse. I need a patrol car at 4908 Alford Drive as soon as possible. My husband is out of control. He's hit one of our sons so hard that he was thrown into a wall. He's unconscious now, and he may have a concussion. You'd better send an ambulance too. Please hurry. Things are getting out of hand, and I'm afraid more assaults will occur." She listened to talk on the line. As Drew passed her with the cold cloth, she handed him the phone. "Drew, you stay right here. Keep listening to the other person on the line. Tell her whatever she wants to know."

"Who is it?" Drew asked.

"The 911 operator," Emily replied, taking the wet dishtowel from Drew's hand and moving quickly toward Justin and Riley.

Roy's mouth had dropped open, and his face had lost its color. Suddenly he came to. "You Bitch!" he yelled, charging at Emily. She watched him approach. When he was about upon her, she kicked out with her foot, catching him right in the crotch and taking the wind right out of his mouth, not to mention "his sails." He grabbed his crotch as his mouth opened soundlessly, registering his pain. He fell to the floor, doubled up. Emily's eyebrows shot up briefly as she observed him, motionless on the floor. Now it was Drew's and Justin's jaws that had dropped open when they saw their mother swing into action, felling their father. Emily walked over to Justin and Riley, kneeling, placing the cloth on Riley's forehead and examining the side of his head to determine if he was injured. She noted that his cheek was red and swelling. Suddenly, Justin's head turned to the window, for he'd heard sirens approaching.

"Justin, go to the door and let the emergency personnel in," Emily directed calmly. "Bring them here to the dining room." Justin shot off, giving his father a wide berth. The sirens were loud now, pulling up in front of the house. She heard car doors slamming. Justin had opened the front door, directing someone into the dining room. Police officers were the first to enter, quickly scanning the room, noting Drew telling the operator that they were there now and hanging up. They saw Roy on the floor groaning and Emily sitting on the floor holding an unconscious Riley. Drew immediately dialed Troy's cell phone number.

"What's going on, Ma'am," a young police officer asked, kneeling down by Emily while the other officer stood near Roy. "My husband was arguing with my son, who was sitting in that chair. He struck him so hard he flew out of his chair against this wall. He's been unconscious since then." At that point, paramedics came through the door, looking at Roy and Riley. "What happened to him, Ma'am?" the officer asked, pointing to Roy.

"When my husband realized I'd called 911, he called me a bitch and charged at me. I kicked him where it counts," she said mildly. "The boys can corroborate this account."

At that point, Drew had joined them. "That's right officer," Drew said. One of the paramedics asked Emily to gently lay Riley on the floor as he began checking him over.

"Yeah," Justin added. "Right in the nuts," he said in wonderment. The female officer stifled a smile. The paramedic checking Riley swiped the back of his hand across his mouth to hide a grin that popped out.

The other paramedic went to Roy, who sat up and pushed the woman away, snarling, "Get away from me, bitch." At that point the police officer standing nearby reached behind her back, grabbed her handcuffs, knelt down behind Roy, pulling his arms behind him and snapping the cuffs on his wrists - to his amazement. "Sir," she said, "I'm placing you under arrest." Then she started reading him his rights. When she asked if he understood his rights, he just stared at her. "Sir, you have to answer."

"Yes," he snarled. At that point, the two police officers pulled Roy up and walked him out the door.

The paramedic who was tending to Riley had been talking on a phone. He turned to Emily. "Ma'am, we're worried about the little fella's not regaining consciousness. He may have a concussion. We're taking him to the hospital. You'll need to accompany him. You can ride in the ambulance in case he comes to. He'll want you there if he does. Your consent will be required for us to treat him."

Emily looked around, confused. "Drew and Justin, you'll have to stay here. You'll be okay won't you?"

"Yeah, Mom, we'll be okay," Drew replied. "I called Troy. He's on his way over here. He'll probably bring us to the hospital. We're worried about Riley too."

"Of course, dear. Which hospital?" she asked the paramedic. Drew and Justin listened carefully to his answer. The paramedics brought an ambulance cart over near them and placed Riley's still body on a "back board," placing a foam ring around his neck and strapping him down. Emily put her face in her hands and started crying. Drew and Justin dropped to the floor, putting their arms about their mother, consoling her in whispers. It was as though the family, burdened by the heightened emotions of the past months, was now burdened by shame so that their comments to each other should never be heard by others. As they covered Riley with a blanket, strapping him down again, the three arose, following the cart to front door. Justin grabbed a coat for his mother. She told him to get her purse, which he did.

Emily hurried to the ambulance, for they had just placed Riley inside. "I'll see you boys in a little bit," she said as she rushed to the ambulance. One of the police officers intercepted her, telling her that they were returning to the police station with the suspect, but that they wanted to take a statement from her and the boys this evening. She gave them her cell phone number so that they wouldn't have to track her down. She knew that if Riley had to spend the night in the hospital, she was staying with him. As she glanced around, she saw neighbors out in their yards, watching all the action. 'Oh dear,' she thought, 'Alford Drive has never seen such excitement. We'll never live this down.'

The ambulance moved out with its lights flashing but no siren sounding. The officers climbed in their car and drove off with Roy sitting in the back, slumped in the seat, his head on his chest. He'd been cowed by the crowd of neighbors standing out in their yards up and down the streets. Alford Drive was a neighborhood of upscale homes set in big yards, but everyone knew everyone. He wouldn't be coming back here many more times, he decided. He heard echoes of Evan Halsey's warning to him when he stood defiantly on the Halsey front porch, a warning that news of his behavior would find its way into his workplace and his circle of friends.

Drew and Justin had gone back in the house. They went to the kitchen, where they turned off the burners under the pots and pans and turned off the oven that held what was to have been that evening's dinner. Then they entered the family room, where they flopped down on the sofas, looking at each other but saying nothing. They were still trying to process the rapid events that transpired and the shocks they'd received. In a matter of minutes, they heard a car in the drive. They heard running footsteps, and then Troy entered the house, yelling for Drew and Justin. Drew yelled to Troy that they were in the family room, where Troy shot like a bullet, his face full of fear. "Are you guys okay?" he asked. The door was suddenly filled with a breathless Cody and Susan.

"Yeah, we're okay," Drew answered.

"Dad didn't do anything to us," Justin added. Susan went over to sit by Drew, squeezing his shoulder. Cody went to sit by Justin, throwing his arm around Justin, pulling him against Cody's solid body.

"Guys, tell us slowly what happened," Troy requested pacing in the middle of the room. And they did, haltingly at first, one making a statement, and the other following with another sentence. When they'd finished their account, Justin, wide- eyed, asked Troy what was going to happen to them.

"Nothing, guys. You're going to be okay."

"What's going to happen to Dad?" Drew asked.

"He'll make bail and then . . . go someplace. He'll be warned not to return here." Troy answered. "At some point he'll have to go to court to deal with the charges against him."

"What charges?" Justin asked.

"Assault and battery against Riley, child abuse, assault against Mom, to begin with," Troy answered.

"He didn't hit Mom," Drew pointed out.

"Doesn't make any difference," Troy explained. "He made motions to do so. That's assault."

"Will Mom be arrested?" Justin asked, clearly worried. "She kicked Dad in the balls. Oh," he blushed, "sorry, Susan. I shouldn't have said it that way."

She just smiled at him. "No Justin," she answered, "your mother will not be arrested. She was merely defending herself from a blow if not a beating. That's self-defense. That's not a punishable offense."

Pondering something a second or two, Drew turned to Susan. "What does 'extramarital touching' mean, Susan?"

Susan looked startled. Cody, Troy and she traded glances. "Literally it means 'outside of marriage.' It means that someone who's married is getting romantically involved with someone who is not that person's husband or wife. Why do you ask?"

Drew and Justin related their mother's warning to their father that they could talk about his extramarital touching if he continued to make an issue of the boy's touching each other. Troy's face looked crestfallen. "Does that mean Dad is involved with another woman, Troy?" Drew demanded.

"Sounds like it," Troy said. "You know Mom doesn't make wild claims." He thought a moment. "Mom must have been under a lot of pressure lately. She never said anything. You guys obviously didn't know about it. I'm sorry she had to go through that alone," he said grimly, his jaw set.

"I bet that's where Dad goes," Justin said. "To his honey's place."

"Well, he might if she's not married," Cody added.

The room was silent while Troy, Susan, and Cody swapped looks.

"Guys, let's go to the hospital and check on Riley and Mom. We can decide there what we'll all do."

( To be continued.)