All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now.
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"BRIARWOOD"
Copyright Ritchris, 2006
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement by
Les Martin
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BOOK NINE
"A NEW HEAVEN AND A NEW EARTH"
Chapter Ninety-two
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Dropping Chris off at his house, Cliff helped Chris in with his luggage. The two had had a nice friendly chat for nearly three hours sitting at a table in the dining room at the Briarwood Inn. Cliff wanted to give Chris a chance to pour out his feelings, everything, all about Chris' last days with Ed; about the funeral, such as it was--to give him a chance to shake out all the wrinkles in his emotions and look at it all in retrospect. Chris described everything in vivid detail. Cliff had always known how much Chris had loved Ed and knew how good they must have been for each other, especially when Ed was hit with Alzheimer's. After two cocktails each, it was Cliff's turn to fill Chris in on the Briarwood news. Chris had been shocked and angered when he heard of Chuck Brindley throwing acid at Billy, causing Jake's death. Besides being Chris' lover, Ed had had a full rich life, helping find a cure for certain AIDS victims. He had also been partly responsible for finding a vaccine for hepatitis C. Since his death, there had been talk and tons of worldwide press concerning Ed's possible nomination for the Nobel Prize in medicine, which could be awarded posthumously. The voting on that decision was yet months away.
Since Chris' and Ed's house in Briarwood had been closed while they were in Europe, it had gathered an expected amount of dust and stale air. Cliff busied himself, opening several windows, as well as the glass doors leading to the veranda to let some fresh air into the huge mansion, but primarily to give Chris a moment to himself, a moment to look, to remember, and to come to grips. Next, Chris and Cliff went into the kitchen to see if there were any staples that Chris could have for breakfast. There was coffee, powdered cream, boxes of Pop-Tarts on the shelves. Cliff offered to go to a late night convenience store for milk, eggs, bacon, or whatever. Chris thanked Cliff for the offer, but said, he would go to the store after he arose in the morning.
On that note, Cliff decided he should leave and head back home, but only after asking Chris if there was anything else Chris needed or anything Cliff could do. Chris said, "Not really. Just your coming to pick me up and the long talk we had at the restaurant was MORE than enough." He gave Cliff a big hug as Cliff was leaving, watched him drive off, then he turned, looked at his home, at his life, sighed once and closed the door behind him.
"GOD! This house is big...and empty!" Chris said to no one in particular, really just to himself. He walked from room to room until he finally found himself facing his and Ed's bedroom door. This was the worst part for him yet. Chris had never spent a night in the bedroom without having Ed there to hold him. Chris knew it was just too soon, it was more than he could take to think about sleeping in that big king-sized bed without his late lover. So instead, he walked down to one of the guest rooms, turned on the lights, opened the windows, and turned back the bedding. He would sleep there tonight...and, who knows, maybe many more nights until he felt he could face the master bedroom once again--alone.
Chris took off his clothes and turned on the shower in the guest bathroom and stood under the hot water as it peppered against his face. The water drops mixed with Chris' tears as they both ran down his abdomen and legs.
As part of his ministry, both in Atlanta and in Briarwood, Chris had counseled many parishioners during their time of grief after losing a loved one, but now he himself was the aggrieved. It was his turn to mourn, as he had done so every night since Ed took his final breath. Chris thought of the many comforting things he had said to the bereaved members of his flock and felt that the most important thing he'd said to them was, 'Get busy. DO something. Don't sit around and mope. Go back to work. Involve yourself with people and activities. Meet NEW people. Make each day full again. Look for someone YOU can help...someone worse off than you!'.
That is when Chris decided he would go to St. Genesius' first thing in the morning and resume his duties at the church. That's what Ed would have done if the situation had been reversed. Ed would have been at the Institute as soon as he returned home and would see dozens of new patients, while checking up on the ones he had left behind. Chris would follow his own edicts, the ones he had given to others and would heal himself in the process.
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After watching the finish of the Streisand DVD with Roger, Billy went up to bed. Shortly thereafter, Roger put on another DVD, Judy Garland's film, "For Me And My Gal", to help pass time until Cliff returned home from the airport. Roger was still in the first hour of the movie when he heard Cliff drive up. He rose, clicked off the DVD, and went to the bar to fix a couple of vodka martinis for Cliff and himself. As Cliff entered the house and walked into the den, he was met by Roger with chilled drinks in hand. Cliff gave Roger a kiss and looked at him for a brief moment, then took one of the martinis.
"Hi, my love..." Roger said.
"Little Bozo gone to bed?" Cliff asked.
"He's still quite upset about Jake, but I think he's hoping to hear a explanation from you as to why God took Jake in such a cruel way..."
"Poor little tyke. He's been through so much, Rog. His parents, then Ryan, and now seeing Jake murdered in front of his own eyes. I've been wondering if we should take him out of school for the rest of the term, home-school him while you and I take him on a trip. With Chris back now, he can handle my services at the church as soon as he feels he's ready."
"A trip? Like where?"
"Some place Billy wants to go. Let him do the choosing. I don't care if it's Disney World or the Greek Parthenon. A change of scenery would do all three of us a world of good."
"How did Chris look, Cliff?"
"Considering...he looked quite good. I took him for a quick bite and a couple of drinks before taking him home."
"How's his mood?"
"The same as I'd feel if I had lost you--or vice-versa. He and Ed were as close as any couple I've ever known. I'm just so sorry that they didn't have as many years together, say, as you and I. It took Ed a long time to accept his homosexuality and it took Chris, practically, his whole life to find someone to love as he loved Ed."
"Is he badly depressed?"
"I'm sure he is, but he's not letting it show...even to me."
"Do you think he's ready to come back to work?"
"He says he is and I believe him. I even told him that he needed a full evening of hearing confessions to see how many people think they are worse off than he. Along those lines, John Hoffman is sleeping with his secretary..."
"You're kidding! I thought she was lesbian!"
"She is, but how else is she going to get her much-needed raise in pay?"
"Christ! I know you're revealing confessions, but did any of our male members come out this week?"
"Don't breathe a word, but Larry Livingstone THINKS he's gay..."
"LARRY LIVINGSTONE? He's nearly seventy years old and has had three or four wives! How in God's name did he decide he was gay at his age?"
"I'm not really sure, Rog, but I have a hunch. Even though he lives alone, he still gets his prescription for Viagra filled each week or ever how often he finds that he's out of it. He loves to watch 'Las Vegas' on Tuesday nights to see Nikki, Vanessa, and Molly show as much of their tits and ass as the network will allow."
"And...?"
"Larry likes to jerk off while watching the show."
"SO...? I think Jay does the same thing even in front of Troy every time he sees Josh DOO...whatever the hell his last name is..."
"Duhamel, dummy! Well, apparently during one of his private J-O sessions, he discovered it was NOT the girls who turned him on..."
"Holy Jesus! Don't tell me that Larry has a thing for Josh as Jay does..."
"NOPE! Larry has a crush on James Caan."
"Oh, dear Lord!"
"He got online and bought every DVD of James Caan's that was available...from 'Thief', 'The Godfather', 'Funny Lady' with Barbra, 'Gardens of Stone', 'Misery', and a dozen more."
"But Larry's had no actual gay experiences, has he?"
"None that he's confessed. He just sits and fantasizes over. 'The Gambler'...and for that reason, he's sure he's turned gay."
"That ought to cheer Chris up a bit. But, Cliff, how in hell did you sit in a confessional and listen to Larry without breaking up in hysterical laughter?"
"I couldn't. I suddenly had a big coughing spell to hide it."
"Dear God, how I love you...!"
"It was 'dear God' that put us together, don't forget."
"Well, since you've had a late night snack with Chris, I don't suppose you're hungry?"
"Just for you..."
"Let's take our drinks to the bedroom and I'll see what I can do to curb your appetite."
"Lead on, kindly light...LEAD ON!"
Roger turned out the lights and walked down the hall to the bedroom with Cliff.
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The Greyhound bus was still an hour away from New York, but Hunter had awakened Lee so that he could get a good 'first look' at the big city. Hunter didn't mention Lee's hand roving while sleeping. He couldn't. He knew that Lee wasn't at all aware of his actions, that it hadn't been Hunter to whom Lee had spoken.
"How's your book?" Hunter asked.
"Fascinating. I'm only about a hundred or so pages into the plot, but I can see what caused all the controversy."
"I decided to read a thumbnail summary of it on the Internet, after the way all the preachers in Atlanta were raising such a ruckus about it."
"Well, 'The DaVinci Code' is pure fiction. It's says 'novel' on the cover."
"You know, people's faith CAN be shaken when they're not sure about it themselves," Hunter said.
"It's kinda hard to believe that Bush is evangelical. I don't suppose he's read it."
"Not likely. I haven't seen anything on MSNBC or Chris Matthews' 'Hardball' about a constitutional amendment to ban, 'The DaVinci Code'." They both smiled at that.
"Shoot, Hunter! Bush didn't take time to find out about the 'nine-eleven' disaster because he was so engrossed with, 'The Little Goat' story."
"He'd never attempt any book that large that didn't have pictures," Hunter joked.
"Do you think it's possible that Jesus WAS married to Mary Magdalene and they had a daughter named Sarah?"
"I won't say it's NOT possible. Over half the stuff you read in the Bible sounds impossible, so who's to say He didn't get married?"
"That knocks the hell out of another theory about Jesus. I was watching some TV show when I was living with Tom and Mike...and some guy was trying to say that Jesus ran around with his disciples...ALL men...and they were gay for one another."
"Well, if his getting married is possible, then why not a gay Jesus?"
"How...how long have you been gay, Hunter?"
"Oh, since I was thirteen, I guess. Well, actually, I KNEW before that, but 'thirteen' is when I first had sex with a guy."
"Was he your age or older?"
"Older by three years. He was sixteen."
"Did he become your boyfriend?"
"Nope...not he, nor anyone else. I've never had a boyfriend. I think I told you that."
"I...I got the impression you'd never had a lover, but a teenage boyfriend is, well, different."
"Lee, having a boyfriend or a lover requires making a commitment. It also requires one to love the other party...and I've never loved anyone in my life."
"I loved Jake, my brother."
"See? I can't even say that I loved my brother since I never had one."
"Did you ever have sex with a girl or a woman?"
"Oh, I tried it in the parking lot of the country club with a few of Dad's friends' daughters."
"What was it like?"
"I don't suppose you've ever seen an old movie called, 'Roman Holiday', have you?"
"Sure, Katherine Hepburn and Gregory Peck."
"AUDREY Hepburn..."
"Sorry...So what about it?"
"You remember the scene when Gregory Peck put his hand in the mouth of that stone face?"
"Yes...and he tricked her by acting like it was bitten off."
"Well, that's what I felt like putting my dick into a pussy. Only I was afraid it WOULD bite my dick off. It was hot, wet, covered with dark hair, and I was so scared I lost my hard on!"
Lee laughed out loud. "How old were you?"
"Seventeen..."
"Good golly! You had sex with men for four years before you tried your first girl?"
"...guilty..."
"That's a hoot, Hunter!"
"Just wait until you try YOUR first one. You're older than seventeen."
"Surely it wasn't all THAT bad..."
"WORSE!"
"Jake and I looked at some medical books I brought home from the Institute and from the diagrams, it looks like a woman has MORE than one hole down there."
"She does! She has a pee hole, a baby hole, and an asshole, the same as us."
"Damn! How do you know if you're getting into the 'right' hole?"
"I didn't! I know ALL about men's assholes, but women's holes, being in the front, still baffle me."
"Listen, you told me that if I stayed at your place, it would be all right to have a visitor IF I meet someone..."
"Sure. I told you that you'd have a whole floor to yourself."
"I shouldn't ask, but I will. Do you have a...well, I know you don't have a boyfriend, but do you have a regular sex partner in New York who comes to visit you?"
"No one regular. I seldom date a guy more than twice."
"Why?"
"Well, if you date three times or more, than he, and everyone you know, just assumes that you and he are a couple."
"I see what you mean," Lee paused. "Do you think jobs are hard to find in New York?"
"It depends on what kind of job you're looking for."
"I worked in the office part-time at the Institute with medical records and history."
"If that's what you wish to do, I'm sure you could call Roger Cole and get a good reference. Hell, he might even buy you your OWN hospital."
"I left without his knowing, Hunter--without anyone knowing. I don't know if I want to let ANYONE in Briarwood know where I am until I get settled."
"Lee, what I said about your being my paid companion?...it still goes. You can keep the townhouse straightened up and in the evenings, if there's some Broadway show or movie I want to see...well, I HATE going alone. You could be my date for the evening."
"DATE?"
"Lee, with NO strings attached. I won't say that you aren't attractive to me, because I find you VERY attractive and in many ways, VERY desirable. But I'll never force myself on you or make a pass. I'd hate to lose you as a companion..and a friend."
"You find me attractive and desirable?"
"Very much so."
"Why, for goodness sakes? You've never even seen me without clothes on. How could I be desirable?"
"I love the way you look. I love your slight Texas twang when you speak. I like the way your hair ruffles across your forehead and I dearly love looking into your brown eyes. Your face, arms, and hands are smooth. I doubt if you have a hair on your chest."
"Actually, I---I don't."
"While you were sleeping, I imagined your olive skin and what it would feel like to roam my hand all over your smooth chest."
"You...uh, you didn't touch me while I was sleeping, did you?"
"Of course not," Hunter replied, all the while remembering Lee's hand clutching hiss crotch.
"Thanks, I guess."
"Hey, look! Look at the skyline. The tall building you see is..."
"THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING!" Lee said, interrupting excitedly.
"And that pointed building is the..."
"CHRYSLER BUILDING!"
"You got it! We have to go through a tunnel and when we get out, you'll get the feel of the hustle and bustle of the panhandlers. the deadbeats, the drunks, the sound of many languages from the illegal immigrants, the prostitutes, the male hustlers...ALL the wonderful things that make New York the city that it is!"
"How far away is your townhouse from the bus terminal?"
"About six blocks east and forty or fifty blocks north. We WILL take a cab. You won't have to walk!"
"Silly! I knew that! I just wondered how much of the city I would get to see before we arrived at your place?"
"More than enough! Believe me! We might even pass Radio City Music Hall, Rockefeller Center, or St. Patty's Cathedral..."
"Is that where you go to church?"
"Oh, no! Have you heard about Riverside?"
"No...?"
"That's where I go to church..."
"What's it like?"
"Well, we have healing services, shouting, rolling-on-the-floor holyrollers, and once a week, we have snake-handling when the lion's sick."
Lee stared at Hunter a moment, then said, "You're shitting me, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm shitting you!" He punched Lee on the arm lightly. "However, the church I described DOES exist and I've been told that that's where Bush goes to church when he's in New York!"
"I KNOW you're shitting me now."
"Well, like Jesus marrying Mary Magdalene...it's possible!"
"God, you're funny. I like being around you." Lee seemed to relax suddenly.
"And I love being around you, too, Lee...honestly."
With their luggage in hand, Hunter hailed a taxi for Lee and himself. The taxi driver's name was Max and was the typical stereotypical cabbie that Lee had seen on TV...a bit smart alecky, a thick Brooklynese accent, bald with a Yankee ball cap, and in a hurry, of course.
"WHERE TO...?" Max asked, rather loudly.
"Just go to the one-hundred block of East Eighty-ninth. I'll tell you from there, but first there are several stops I want you to make..." Hunter said as soon as he and Lee were seated in the back seat.
"SUCH AS...?" Max snapped.
"I want you to drive by Saint Patrick's Cathedral, stop at Rockefeller Center, and while we're there, pass by Radio City Music Hall..."
"LOOK, PAL, my hack ain't no Greyline Tour Bus."
"LOOK, PAL, BACK! As long as I'm paying you, what difference does it make?" Hunter retorted.
"I'm the one who has to steer around this fuckin' traffic! You're taking me WAY out of the way!"
"You want to sit in the back with the meter running and let ME drive?" Hunter replied.
"Youse got a New York hack license? Cause if ya don't, I could lose mine by letting some snot-nosed kid drive my vehicle."
"Look, asshole! Here's a hundred bucks! Is that enough for a short trip around Fifth Avenue to show three New York sites to my friend on his first visit."
"That ain't counterfeit, is it?"
"If you like, you can stop at the next Chase Bank and I'll withdraw a fresh hundred dollar bill while you watch."
"Shit, I ain't makin' another stop. Let me look at your hunnert dollar bill!"
Hunter handed the bill to Max who held it up toward the sun to look for the color watermark. "It looks OK."
"Then, you'll do as I ask?"
"Yeah, but don't ask to stop no more places. That'll cost ya extra."
"If it does, it does. So could we get going?" Hunter said.
"Shuah..." After thinking a bit, Lee realized that the cabbie meant 'Sure."
Hunter looked at Lee who had a scared expression on his face. Lee didn't know if a fight was about to break out between Hunter and Max or not. Hunter patted Lee on the leg, just above his knee and said, "Relax..."
"How?" Lee asked, without thinking.
"You'll get used to all this. No one is angry. That's just the way New Yorkers talk to one another."
"Heck! In Texas, if that conversation went on between a passenger and a driver, one of the two would have been shot!" Lee tried to explain in a quiet voice.
"HEY!" Max cried out again. "You two just get back from Boston?"
"No. Why do you ask?" Hunter said.
"I just assumed you two had gone up there to get married."
"WHAT?" Lee asked, loudly.
"Well, youse two ARE homosestuals, ain'tcha."
"No, WE'RE not!" Hunter replied. "Besides, I live in New York and Massachusetts has a law, anyway, that no one from out of state can go there to legalize a gay wedding."
"Sorry! I can usually spot a homo blindfolded," Max said. Then he yelled at the car in front of his cab. "HEY FUCKHEAD! THAT LIGHT WON'T GET ANY GREENER WITHOUT FALLING OFF THE TREE! MOVE YOUR ASS!"
Lee was beginning to get used to Max and this time, out of sheer nerves, he laughed at Max.
Earning his hundred dollars, Max DID stop at the three sites Hunter had instructed him to and Lee became MORE than excited.
"Gosh! Rockefeller Center looks just like the pictures I've seen, only this time, it's real, it's right in front of me!" Lee said, his eyes popping with tourist fervor.
"Just wait, Lee! There's hundreds of places I want you to see. It'll take days, even weeks!"
"IF my money holds out that long..." Lee replied.
"Would you forget about money, onionhead? You'll be drawing a salary from me by that time."
"OK! YOU HAD ENOUGH SITE SEEIN'? Should I head on up to East Eighty-ninth?"
"Yes, please..." Hunter replied.
"East Eighty-ninth? That's where you live?"
"No. That's where WE live, Lee."
As soon as Max reached the designated street, Hunter directed him down to the town house. Max looked at the place and asked, "YOU live here?"
"Yes," Hunter replied.
"GODDAMN! I'd hate to ask what you pay for rent!" Max said.
"Well, if you must know, I don't pay any rent. It belongs to my dad and it's bought and paid for."
"JESUS CHRIST! If I'd known you was THIS rich..."
"You would have charged me MORE for the three stops?" Hunter asked, finishing Max's sentence.
"NAH! I couldn't do that. It's against the law!" Max said.
"The law didn't stop you from charging me a hundred bucks for a few quick stops, did it? There's barely thirty dollars showing on your meter."
"Oh, I cut it off while the two of you were sight-seein'"
"Yeah...sure you did. Come on, Lee, let's get out."
"Got all your luggage?" Max asked.
"Yes, thank you." Hunter and Lee got out of the taxi, onto the sidewalk, and Lee returned to speak to Max. "Max, it's been a pleasure. Riding with you was a small initiation to living in New York for my friend and I want you to take another hundred."
"YOU'RE KIDDING!"
"No, Max, take it! You earned it."
Max took the bill and said, "NOW I KNOW IT'S COUNTERFEIT. TWO HUNDRED BUCKS FOR A RIDE FROM THE GREYHOUND TERMINAL TO EAST EIGHTY-NINTH?"
"Well, Max, if you find out later that the money is counterfeit, you know where I live and you can come and get the real money!" Hunter slammed the taxi door and Max drove off...holding the second bill up to the light as he was driving.
"Boy, am I glad THAT'S over," Lee said, sighing heavily. "Does New York have city buses?"
"Thousands of them. WHY!"
"If I have to go any place by myself, I WON'T take a taxi."
"Come on, let's go open the windows of the town house and let the stale air get replaced by good old New York pollution."
Lee looked to the top of the brownstone and exclaimed, "YOU own the whole building? It's huge!"
"That's why I said you could have a whole floor of your own if you want it."
"You ought to've seen my house in Fort Stockton. When I moved into Tom and Mike's, I thought that was enormous, but this place...WOW!"
"There's no elevator, so you'll get tired of walking up three or four flights of stairs several times a day."
The two went inside and Hunter showed all four floors of the town house to Lee, who got more impressed with each passing floor.
"Which one is mine?"
"I was thinking about the third one. I'll show it to you."
The brownstone was immaculate with tall ceilings, white mantles over the fireplaces, trimmed with gold filigree. The furniture looked like antiques, only brand new. The bedroom on the third floor was king-sized with a canopy, draped in red velvet and gold cords and tassels. The floor on the main floor was marble, while on the remaining levels, floors were inlaid wood, waxed so shiny that Lee could almost see his reflection. The bathroom had a double-sized tub with a jacuzzi, porcelain fixtures with twenty-four caret faucets and hardware. Not a speck of dust showed anywhere, what with servants paid to keep the house up even when empty.
"Good Lord, Hunter! How rich IS your dad?"
"I'm sure even he doesn't know for sure."
"What does he do for a living?"
"Nothing. He just makes money. He doesn't work...I don't think. All I know is that he got into computers about the same time Bill Gates did and my dad invested wisely in Microsoft. He also managed, along with the computers, to carry office supplies, office furniture and he has a chain of stores from Atlanta to L.A. AND Atlanta to New York on the east coast."
"Damn! How many stores?"
"I don't know...hundreds? Thousands? I don't think my dad knows either. If he wants something, he buys it...the same as I do."
"You have access to millions?"
"IF I want them!"
"Then why on earth would you want to go into acting or dancing?"
"Because, that's ONE thing that I can do myself! My dad's money can't buy talent! And because I AM rich, there's no reason why I shouldn't pursue my own dreams!"
"Hunter, let me make one thing clear...."
"What, cowboy?"
"IF you get tired of me or IF I get into your way, just tell me and I'll leave immediately."
"You little worry wart! You haven't spent your first night here in your new home and you're already talking about leaving. You can't leave until I get to know you better. I don't even know if I LIKE you. That's a lie! I DO like you. I've...I've just never lived with someone about my own age. So it'll be a first for me as well. Suppose 'I' get on YOUR nerves?"
"Gosh, how could you?"
"I'm a rich brat!"
"So?"
"So we're used to having anything we want whenever we want it."
"I certainly don't have anything that you'd want."
"You might be surprised, Lee...and I'm NOT talking about sex."
"Like what?"
"YOU had Jake all your life. I, on the other hand, never had a brother. Maybe I want YOU to be my little brother...but then, you're used to being the big brother, aren't you?. I'm probably older, but maybe we could pretend that you're older and 'I' could be YOUR little brother."
"I don't think I could ever look at you and pretend you're Jake."
"I don't want to be Jake, Lee, I want to be Hunter, your brother!"
"You might not like it if I start bossing you around?"
"OH? Who knows. No one has ever bossed me around! I might like it...and I'm not talking about 'S and M'!"
"'S' and 'M'? What's that?"
"If you don't know what it is, I'm certainly NOT going to indoctrinate you into the fundamentals of sadism and masochism!"
"You mean like sex with whips and chains?"
"Kinda."
"Shoot! I'd never do that to anyone...well, maybe the guy who killed Jake, but that wouldn't be sexual!"
"Thank God! Now let me show you your closet where you can hang up your clothes. I see you didn't bring much in that one suitcase, so what do you say we go shopping for a few clothes and some groceries? Get to know the neighborhood a little better."
"We don't have to take a taxi, do we?"
"NO! I'll show you the New York subway system. Your first subway ride is something you'll never forget!...AND I'll get to watch you!"
Lee turned and gripped Hunter's arm lightly but firmly. "Hunter, why are you doing all this for me?"
"I...well, I...I've never done it for anyone else. I think it's time I started."
"Hunter, would it be all right if I gave you a hug?...a BROTHERLY hug?"
"Lee, I could think of nothing more I'd rather receive than a hug from you."
Lee walked toward Hunter and awkwardly placed his arms around Hunter and pulled him closely to his body. The feeling of the embrace felt so warmly sincere to Hunter, he closed his eyes as he put his arms around Lee. One small tear came out of Hunter's right eye and rolled down his face. Nothing in his life had ever been more tender to Hunter. To himself, he thought, 'Is this what love's like?' The two stayed locked in the embrace for several minutes until Lee, too, was crying. He missed Jake.
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The following morning at Cliff and Roger's, the two dads decided to keep Billy home from school for a few days to rest and to mend. As with any young teen, this suited Billy just =fine. He became so enthused about his day off from school, Billy told his two dads to go read the newspaper, watch 'Good Morning, America", or go back to bed while he made breakfast for all three. Billy didn't stop to think that Jay and Troy might want breakfast as well, but since Jay was so used to cooking, it would take Jay only a minute or two to whip up some breakfast food for himself and Troy.
Billy was just about to open the refrigerator to get out a carton of eggs when Jay popped into the kitchen.
"Morning, Billy Boy!" Jay said in his usual cheery manner, "and how's my favorite nephew this bright and shiny day?"
"Good morning, Uncle Jay. I...I didn't know that you were up. I...I told Daddy Cliff and Daddy Roger that I would make breakfast for them."
"What a sweet idea! What are you planning to cook?"
"Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, I guess."
"Why don't you surprise the heck out of them and make their favorite pecan waffles?"
"Heck, that's too hard! I know I'd make a mess out of them."
"Not with your Uncle Jay here to show you how to do it!"
"Would you? I mean, gosh, WOULD YOU, really?"
"Sweetheart, there's nothing this side of heaven I wouldn't do for you."
"What do I need?"
"Well, I see you have the eggs out. We'll need some flour, some butter, some buttermilk, pecans, almond flavoring, some baking powder, a dash of baking soda, and a dash of salt..."
"SALT? In waffles?"
"Little man, I put salt in everything. I even salt my dill pickles. Troy accuses me of salting salt...I really do, but I won't admit it to him."
"Is that everything?"
"We'll need the waffle iron...and I KNOW how much Roger likes country ham. We'll fry some of that, too. Do you know how to make coffee?"
"That's one thing I CAN make!"
"You start the coffee brewing while I get the stuff for the waffles and the mixer."
"Gosh! Won't THEY be surprised? You won't tell that you helped, will you?"
"I'll disappear as soon as you plop the first batter into the iron. Then you're on your own, kid!"
Five minutes later, the ham was in a skillet frying, the batter was ready, and the iron was hot. Billy was so excited he was beside himself with glee.
"How long do they have to cook?" Billy asked.
"When that little light on top of the waffle iron goes out, the first one's ready and then it's time to make the next one."
"How many should I make?"
"About six. That'll give all three of you two apiece."
"You know that I love you, don't you, Uncle Jay?"
"Save that buttering me up and put the butter on the waffles. OF COURSE, I know you love me...me and Troy and ALL the Briarwood Boys."
"I'm a Briarwood Boy, aren't I? I mean, am I OLD enough?"
"Billy, you're Cliff's and Roger's NUMBER ONE Briarwood Boy and you always will be."
"Too bad that Lee didn't feel like HE was a Briarwood Boy."
"Who said he wasn't?"
"He left town...well, he moved out from Tom and Mike's..."
"That little scamp! Now why on earth would he do that? Why would he leave everyone who loved him?"
"I don't know...but I'd never leave."
"I've lived with Cliff and Roger for years and it would never occur to me to leave, Billy."
"Are you and Uncle Troy gonna adopt a kid?"
"We HAVE talked about it..."
"If you do, why don't you consider adopting one that's fifteen years old?"
"About YOUR age, so that you could have a brother?"
"That'd be nice!"
"Well, if I should get pregnant, I don't think I could carry him inside me for fifteen years."
"Silly! Uncle Jay, you're the funniest person I know. YOU can't get pregnant!"
"Maybe not, but Troy and I have been trying for years. I...I'd better not let Troy know what you said about my not being able to get pregnant. It might spoil our nightly relationship!"
"I KNOW what you and Troy do at night."
"You little bugger! Have you been spying on us?"
"No, of course not...but remember 'I've' had my first gay experience, too. I KNOW what guys do."
"Yes, but I seem to recall that I had to buy you a watermelon for some strange reason for your first all-night date."
"You never did anything with a watermelon when you were my age, Uncle Jay?"
"Heavens NO! I much preferred a cantaloupe or a ripe avocado after taking that huge pit out."
"Hmm! Are they better than watermelons?"
"Much!"
"The next time you go to the grocery store, would you pick me up one of each?"
"I will not be the instigator of contributing to the delinquency of a minor!" Jay paused. "How big a cantaloupe do you want?"
"You're the expert! YOU decide!"
"OK, the first waffle is ready to be plated, so I'll go back and talk to Troy about a fifteen-year-old adoption. If you need me, call me in my bedroom on the kitchen phone, OK?"
"OK, Uncle Jay, and thanks for helping me."
"I and ALL the Briarwood Boys will ALWAYS be here to help you!"
"That's a nice thing to know!"
Jay left and Billy beamed as he took the first pecan waffle and put it on a plate. He turned off the stove when the country ham had finished frying. Soon he had six waffles divided on three plates, country ham, syrup, and three cups of coffee poured. He left the kitchen to call for his two dads to come to breakfast. As they were entering the kitchen, whiffing the aroma from the waffles, Chris came in the back door at the same time.
"CHRIS!" Roger greeted him.
"Good morning, Roger," Chris replied.
"Good morning, Father," Cliff said warmly.
"My God! What do I smell. The odor is making my mouth water!" Chris said.
"Billy made breakfast!" Roger said. "And it looks marvelous."
"Morning, Billy...!"
"Hiya, Father Chris. Have you eaten breakfast yet?" Billy asked, hoping that Chris HAD eaten.
"No, son. I was headed toward the church and thought I'd stop at Denny's for breakfast."
Billy eyed the batter and saw there was just enough left for a couple more waffles. Jay always prepared more than enough food at every meal and the waffle batter was no different.
"Then please sit down while Chef Cole fixes you one his finest gourmet delicacies!" Billy said.
"Are you sure?" Chris asked. "I mean, do you have enough?"
"You're the minister, Father Chris! If Jesus could feed five thousand with five loaves and two fishes, the batter will easily stretch for another person."
"Well, Billy, you certainly ARE a miracle worker in many ways."
"Why don't you take the plate I'd fixed for myself and I'll cook me some fresh ones?"
Cliff eyed Roger with great pride over the little gentleman that the two of them had reared, thus far. Chris sat down with Roger and Cliff at the kitchen table while Billy made another breakfast.
"I'm so surprised to see you this early, Chris," Cliff said.
"I'm ready to get back to work, Cliff. That house was just a bit too big last night."
Roger added, "Chris, if you'd like to spend a few nights here with us, you know that we have more than enough room for you."
"Thanks, Roger. I WILL keep that in mind," Chris replied. "Tell me, the young man who hurt Jake...is he in custody?"
"Yes, he is," Cliff said.
"You said that it was Pastor Brindley's son?" Chris asked.
"Yes. You never know where hate's been seeded."
This part of the conversation got Billy's interest.
"Chuck Brindley is in jail now?" Billy asked.
"Yes, son," Roger replied.
"Then I want to go visit him...if he's allowed visitors," Billy said, firmly.
"Billy, these HAVE to be the best waffles I've ever eaten," Cliff said, trying to ignore Billy's request.
"They are WONDERFUL!" Roger added.
"That goes for me, too," echoed Chris.
"Thanks, but don't go changing the subject!" Billy said. "Can I or can I NOT go visit him?"
"Billy," Cliff said, "do you think that's wise? I mean Chuck is dangerous. I don't think it's wise that you go see him OR talk to him. After all, it was Chuck who tried to attack you and inadvertently attacked Jake."
"DADDY CLIFF! I GOTTA GO SEE HIM!"
"Billy," Roger spoke up. "You heard your Daddy Cliff. Whatever you have to say to him could only start another row and that wouldn't be good if he's going to be tried for murder."
"Daddy Roger, how do you know what I want to say to him?"
"I don't know...but what good would it do IF you talked to Chuck?"
"It might do a LOT of good."
Chris decided to chime in with a question. "Billy, what would you like to say to Chuck?"
"I...I want to tell him that I...forgive him!"
Cliff choked back a sob, Roger coughed, and Chris accidentally dropped his fork as the three adults looked at one another in disbelief. The silence was deafening. First Cliff shed a tear, then Chris, and Roger got up from the table to exit the kitchen, wiping his eyes.
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(To be continued in chapter ninety-three of "Briarwood", Book Nine--"A New Heaven And A New Earth").