It had been four years since Brad's grandfather had stated his quixotic pursuit of the truth of his son's death. When it first happened, he believed what the police told him, that there was an accidental kitchen fire and that his son died heroically try to save his girlfriend. Everyone believed that -- it was obvious.
But with the revelation of his grandson's existence, and the circumstances of the adoption by his foster parents, he had no doubt that there was more to it than that. He just had to look in the right places. As his first boss had told him years before, when trying to figure out competitor's motives, `follow the money.'
Little by little the evidence trickled in, the trail became warm again and the police investigators and prosecutors could no longer deny the obvious. He never worried about what he would find at the end, no matter how distressing. Whatever the cause, he had dealt with all his own emotional issues a long time ago, or he thought he had. He was a lot more worried about his grandson.
After an excruciating summer hoping and praying for both to get pulled off of the wait list, Brad literally days before school started, they had both gotten into graduate school at Yale, Mike in the architecture school and Brad in Law. But that seemed like an eternity ago, now that they had returned home and real life, or at least real life out of school, was finally starting up. Mike had already started work, but it was the first day for Brad.
"Ready?" Mike asked, staring as Brad as he did a final primping in the mirror. Mike was usually the most fastidious dresser of the two, but Brad felt like he had to step it up, considering all the money he was getting paid. It was 4 times what Mike was making.
"I think so." He replied. "Do you really think I'm worth this much money?" he asked, still incredulous. "I don't know shit."
"Neither do I," Mike replied with a laugh, "but Rick must be smarter because they at least pay you nothing when you know nothing."
Brad just smiled, then, looked at Mike. "Do you think Rick is going to make it with this new firm? It takes a lot to start a business, especially in architecture and in this town." Rick, Mike's immediate supervisor at his old firm, couldn't wait for the `succession plan' from the partners and started his own company 2 years before.
"I hope so, I let him talk me into joining him and his merry little band of elves."
"I guess I asked the question a little rhetorically, because I think you made the right decision. And he's backing it up by giving you opportunities and spending time training you, even in the few weeks you've been there."
"Yeah, I have to say it's been good so far, especially compared to the scutt work my classmates are doing. Rick's so busy he's been letting me do a lot of interesting stuff, but he just throws me into it. I just hope I don't get us into trouble by doing something stupid."
"Like you've said, though, there's other experienced people watching you, too, so you're not too alone."
"Yes other experienced people, all three of them!" Mike replied with a laugh as he gave Brad a nudge to the shoulder.
On the bus into town, Brad looked out the window, then looked at Mike next to him. "So far so good, pup. I got the fat paycheck job. You've got the job that you really like. Next stop, buy the house. Then the kids."
`I feel like we've already got one," Mike replied. "Niko's kind of number one, don't you think?" Niko, the neighbor boy who Brad had almost hit with his car years ago, had practicallyi turned into a son for the guys.
Brad paused for a moment. He remembered how tough it was for the kid when the guys went off to school. The kid felt abandoned - just like when his Dad had left him and his mom. In one of the few times that Brad asked his always-willing Grandfather for money, Brad had even flown back on a school weekend to talk to the boy.
Niko holed up in his room, however, refusing to listen to anyone, even his mom. For Brad, if words didn't work, food was the recourse. It took a grilled cheese sandwich, followed by cherry pie, to break the ice and just get him out of his room. Even then, it took time to just get him to talk.
But following that weekend, Niko became as devoted to them as a kid could be to a parent.
"Yeah, I guess he is our first, Brad replied with a chuckle. "But he's no baby boy. God, he's only like 13 but he's already friggin' huge. He's almost as big as me. I think the high school football coach is already scouting him out. Next fall he'll probably be on the varsity team."
"I'm glad his grades are good, too. He needs more options, even now." Mike said, adjusting himself in his seat to get a better view out. "He'll do OK."
"He's had that hot math tutor," he said, poking Mike in his still hard abs. "how could he go wrong?" Brad laughed to himself again, then refocused his gaze on the approaching skyline. So far, he felt like he and Mike were right at where they wanted to be in their lives.
Even though things were going there way he still felt nervous. Maybe it was just first day jitters, not something to be worried about. But it was more than that. How would he really do at this job? Had he promised Mike too much? This amazing guy deserved so much, could he deliver even a fraction of what he hoped he could? As he looked back on the last 4 years he realized how much Mike depended on him (and he on Mike.)
Especially when he thought of that one night two years before...
"Is Mike going to be back soon,?" Claire said. She and Brad had immediately hit it off during his first week in law school when they were in the same study group, and shared the distinction of coming off the waitlist within a month of the start of classes.
He felt in good company, though. Besides being a Marshall Scholar and valedictorian of her high school class, she had been a competitive swimmer and all around top athlete. She, in turn, was amazed at Brad's high LSAT scores, the experiences he had in the emergency room job and especially his 2-year leadership stint as president of the intramural league. Managing fellow college students was not one of her skills, she often told him.
"I called him a couple minutes ago and he was just leaving, so it shouldn't be long. Are you hungry?" he asked as he arranged some of the plates on their makeshift table.
Brad and Mike had specialized in pot-luck dinners where they invited their friends from their respective schools, architecture and law. By the second year their apartment had become a well-known escape from the hothouse social atmosphere of their individual professional schools.
"He'll be here in a few minutes, but I'm sure he'd want us to go ahead and eat. So let's do it," he said. Knowing that most of the half-dozen or so people wouldn't want to be first, he conspicuously grabbed one of the paper plates and, waving it in the air, called out, "Let's go, everybody. Dig in!"
First spooning up some pasta, then sausage (his contribution, which he of course did for Mike) some salad and then small samples of each of the other dishes, he plopped down on the edge of their tired old couch, which they had brought from their undergraduate apartment.
"Hey Claire, I'm not sure what this is that Phil brought. Could you be my taster?" Brad called out,
Phil was a short, stubby geeky kind of guy from the management school who lived in the flat above them. His shameless competitive streak had often brought out humourous comments abouth the fates of rivals, real and imagined.
Digging his fork into the salad with a ceremonious flourish, he stood in front of Brad and slowly circled his mouth with the forkful of food, spinning it several times until practically sucking the leaves and little cherry tomato into this mouth. He then rolled his head back and rubbed his ample belly as he moaned in pleasure.
"See, Campagna, no harm down. Now, why don't you try some?"
"Watch out Brad," she said, "remember, his species is immune to human toxins,"
As the laughter calmed down, Claire and her boyfriend, Josh approached Brad, her one hand holding a shared plate with a little sample of everything the other on her boyfriend's shoulder, steering him over to the host.
"Brad, have you heard anything about the trial yet?" Asked Josh, as he wiped his hands on a napkin. He and Claire had met as undergraduates and like Mike and Brad and had continued onto grad school together.
"Um, yeah, I talked to my grandpa today. He thinks there's going to be some kind of plea bargain. The evidence is all circumstantial, but it's pretty much points to him setting the fire." They both noticed that he seemed distracted.
"How are you holding up through this? Do you want to be back there for it?"
"I don't know. It's funny, because they were my folks, but I never knew them. I want to be there, but in some ways it may be best if I don't." he said, his focus and attention briefly returning. "I just don't think I could handle it."
"What about your Grandpa? How is he holding up"
"He's on a mission." Brad replied. "It's painful for him to go through this, but it's also giving him closure, which he needs. Same with my Aunt Jill."
Brad continued. "Only he could have followed through all these years on something like this, he's a very focused guy. And especially with it being family...and so...bad." He briefly stumbled, then got back on track with the story. "I don't know if this is what made him successful, but he can smell a rat a mile away."
Brad then looked down at his drink, a glass of sparking water, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. "He, I mean my step dad, hasn't admitted to anything," he paused.
"Yet!" He said with emphasis, as he continued the staring match with the bubbles. "Even my Grandpa thinks he didn't mean it to get this far out of hand. His buddy owned the house where my mom rented a room, and this guy needed the insurance money to pay off some gambling debts. Well, my step dad had his own financial problems." he said, as Claire noticed his eyes glancing toward the door.
He continued with the story, and his divided focus. "It looks like he was the one with the big idea, if you can call it that. Torch the house and collect the insurance money. Unfortunately, my mom was home ill, she was pretty near term with me and probably wasn't feeling to well."
There was a another pause in his story, and in his breathing.
"You OK?" Claire asked. ."Why don't we just change the subject." She said, as she offered some sausage to Brad.
Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head in the negative. "I'm fine" he said in a not very convincing way. "It's OK talking about the trial, or whatever happens. But right now, I'm actually kind of concerned with Mike, he's usually pretty reliable about when he says he'll be home. I don't know, maybe I'm just a bit paranoid, but I'm going outside for a sec to check."
"Hey Brad," one of the guests called out. Chiu, who was one of Mike's classmates from the architecture school, had overhead Brad's concern. "I offered to wait for him, but he said I should go ahead, he said he'd be right behind me. That was about a half hour ago, but maybe he just got stuck."
"Thanks, Chiu. He called me about 15 minutes ago and he usually calls when he's walking out the door."
"He was moving a bit slower than usual, we all were," Chiu said, continuing between bites of tiny meatballs that Phil had brought. "Everyone of us got hammered at our review today. Bill, you know, that cocky guy in our class, Mikes' probably told you about him, he was really upset, I think Mike was trying to talk to him, calm him down. He might have gotten hung-up with that."
"That makes sense, maybe he's still talking to that guy. But I'm going to check outside, anyway, just to be sure," Brad said.
Brad carefully put down his plate, which was still almost full and hardly touched, and wiped his hands with a napkin before walking over to the front door of their one bedroom pad. It was on the first floor of a New Haven brownstone that had long ago been broken up into separate apartments, and theirs was right at the top of the long crumbling flight of stairs to the ancient front door.
The owner of the worn-out old place had recently had a fit of energy conservation enthusiasm, more for his bank account than for anything else, so had put a tight weatherstrip along the door frame and all of the windows in the place. With the tight, hermetic seal to the house, there was an audible `whoosh' sound when Brad opened the door and several people's heads turned. Even though it was a freezing January night, he still went out onto to stoop to look down the street.
Poking his head out beyond the stone canopy, he looked out toward the direction that Mike would be coming from. It was almost a full moon, and with the 6 inches of snow that was on the ground from last nights storm it was easy to see down the street.
Except for the muffled sounds of a party in some apartment across the street, the night was very quiet as he glanced over just to see what was going on. He could see figures through the window, dancing and carrying on to the music, but the real feature seemed to be an amazing light show. It looked like they had multiple strobes set up and the people looked like they were almost in slow motion from the flashes.
The flashes. `Oh my god!' Brad thought.
He looked down at the bottom of the stairs and saw a dark figure slumped in the snow
From inside the house, Claire and the other guests only heard, `Mike!' then saw Brad disappear from the doorway. Everyone leapt up to follow Brad.
She paused at the top of the stoop and looked down. There was Brad kneeling next to a person sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs.
Racing down the stairs to join him, Josh jumped around Brad and placed himself near Mike's head. He quickly put his hand on Mike's throat to check his pulse, then opened his eyelid to check out the pupils, which he could just barely see under the dim streetlamp.
"I think he's OK, Brad, but we need to get him upstairs right now and warm him up!"
"Grab him, let's go!" Brad yelled out, as he and Josh placed themselves beneath Mike's arms and carefully lifted him up. Brad was a little worried about Josh being able to handle his share, as he was pretty slim and obviously not real strong. He did struggle at first, but Brad could see that he was determined to make it work.
While they carried the limp Mike up the stairs, Claire collected his backpack and the contents, which had spilled out onto the small lawn, while the others, including Phil, followed closely behind the two carriers to make sure they didn't fall.
Once they got him inside to the bedroom, As Josh and Brad propped Mike onto the edge of the bed, Brad noticed how cold his hands were. Quickly, he ripped off Mikes' shirt then his own. He pulled their chests together as he lifted Mike's body farther onto the bed, then pulled himself on top of him.
"Cover us up, Josh!" Brad said, not taking his eyes off Mike. "This is quickest way I know to warm him up."
Josh nodded in agreement and pulled the covers over the both of them.
"Has he had any seizures recently?" the student doctor asked. He gently reached above Brad's head to again check Mike's pupils.
"Not in a while, at least not this bad. He's usually just sort of out-of-it, but I've never seen him collapse. But it was nighttime that light show was pretty fierce, and right in his eyes, too," He said, between swallows and heavy breathing that Josh couldn't mistake for anything but a controlled panic. "He can usually turn away, but this time..." Brad's voice just trailed off.
"Brad, do you want to take him to the hospital?" Josh asked. "I'm a medical student, not a doctor. I don't know what I can do for him."
"I've talked to his folks about this, and they said that if he obviously hasn't injured himself, there's not much a hospital can do. All we can do now is to get him warmed up and let him sleep, though I am concerned about how long he was out there.
Josh looked at Mike's fingers, intertwined with Brad's. They weren't blue, which was a good sign. He figured, Mike was probably not out there more that 10 minutes or so. Even thought it was just below freezing, he was probably not frostbitten or anything like that.
"Josh, would you take off his shoes? He's probably going to be here a while."
"God idea," he replied, trying to be as encouraging as possible. "I'll put some fresh ones on him. Where do you keep the socks?"
"top draws, left one." Josh heard. Brad didn't bother to move his head when he spoke.
It wasn't very long before Mike felt warmed up, much to Brad's relief. He was just getting out of the bed when he heard, or thought he heard, Mike's voice.
"Uh, what happened?" Mike said, barely audible.
Brad's face was back down, right in front of Mikes. "You had a little seizure, pup. There were some lights across the street. Your OK, now, though." He said, rubbing his hand against the slightly cold cheek. "Does anything hurt.?"
"uh..." there was a pause. "No, no. just really tired." Mikes eyes were still closed as Brad pulled the covers up on him.
Mike said something, but Brad couldn't tell what it was as he quickly moved his head down to Mike. "You said something, pup?"
Repositioning his head so that his ear was next to Mike's mouth, he paused, waiting for an answer.
"you OK?" Mike breathed out.
"I'm fine, pup, I'm OK, and I think you are, too. Just rest, OK?"
`K'
He made sure that the covers were snug around the feet and gave them a little squeeze, hoping at least the Mike got some unconscious comfort.
As he got up, he reached into the dresser and pulled out a polo shirt that he quickly slipped over his head. As he finished pulling it over himself, Josh came over and put his hand on his shoulder. The other guests stood in the doorway, trying to at least give support in numbers.
"You OK?' Josh asked. Claire had just joined him, while two or three others finally moved into the doorway.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Josh." He said, his gaze still fixed on Mike. Then he turned his head toward the young medical student, looking him right in the eyes. "I'm glad you were here. Thanks."
"I didn't really do anything, Brad. But I'm glad I was here, too, for whatever good it did." He paused for a moment.
"What did Mike say to you a when you talked to him. I heard you say `I'm fine,' or something like that.
Brad rubbed his eyes, but didn't say anything for a moment as he refocused his gaze on Mike.
"He asked me if I was OK."
"That's something Claire would say." Josh replied, as she stood next to him, leaning gently into his shoulder.
Only hearing Josh's reply and not the question, she looked at Josh, confused. He just pulled her close and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Hey, you all, um, thanks for coming. Sorry I can do too much right now, but.."
He was immediately cut off, by, well, everybody.
"Brad, just take care of Mike? OK. I, or should I say `We'll' get out of your hair tonight, you've got more important things to do." He said, looking around at everyone else there. "But call me if you need anything. Even a stock tip, OK?"
A quiet laugh escaped from Brad's mouth. As much as the humor itself, he knew that Mike was always amused by Phil and was almost laughing for both of them.
"Thanks, Phil. I might just skip the stock tip, you know, it's the weekend and all," he said, "but thanks for the offer. I think we'll be OK, but I really appreciate it."
"I'm going to stay in here with Mike for a while, but you guys go ahead and at least finish the food. Mike wouldn't want you to leave here starving, or waste all the food." He said. "I'll be out in a few minutes, OK?"
He heard several `OK, let me know if I can help's as their friends slowly exited the room, leaving him alone with the now-sleeping Mike.
When Brad returned to the bedroom, Mike was curled up at the top of the bed. Brad just slipped in next to him, facing Mike from the front and wrapping his arm around him as he pulled the covers up just a little bit more to make sure Mike's back was completely covered.
There was a periodic jostling from Mike, as if he was a little restless, which surprised Brad as his thumb lightly stroked the back of his head.
"you OK, pup?" he said gently, hoping that Mike wouldn't actually answer.
He heard a soft murmur in response.
"Can I get you some water? Do you need to pee?
He heard another sound from Mike, but couldn't tell what he said. Maybe he should be prepared anyway so, he decided to get a glass of water to have ready by the bedside.
When Brad started to get out of the bed, however, Mike suddenly came to life, his hand fiercely grabbing the front of Brad's shirt, anchoring him in place. In the dim light, he could see Mikes face, still lying on the pillow, but with a look of fright, even with his eyes suddenly just half open.
It was a look of fright that he'd seen on Mike's face only once before, that night a week after the first seizure of Mike's that he witnessed. Besides fear, there was desperation in those eyes.
Immediately reversing direction, Brad rolled back, placing himself so close to Mike that he was practically on top of him, even placing his leg over Mike's to get as much body contact as possible..
As they laid their together, Mike's restlessness gradually seem to evaporate, until he felt Mike's head move, first away from face-to-face with Brad to lowering it into Brad's chest. Brad could feel the head rotating back and forth, in an effort to almost burrow into Brad, get closer, almost get inside him.
Placing his hand on the back of Mike's head, he stroked and ran his fingers through his hair as he continued squirming. The fingers moved down the head to the back of the neck, and settled on massaging the surprisingly tight muscles, hoping for some relaxation in response.
He seemed to hit the magic button. After only a few seconds, Mike seemed like he had settled down but didn't budge from his place at Brad's chest. Brad could still tell that he was tense, though, and continued the massage, adding a few gently kisses to the back of his head until, after only a few moments, the body underneath him began to relax...
Brad was suddenly brought back from his daydreaming by the lurch of the buse as it hit a well-known patch of rough pavement on the approach to downtown. Mike had described it as the `welcoming committee' but Brad still hadn't been prepared.
"Your stops almost here, pup. Are we going to have lunch together?
"We can try, but if your first day is anything like mine, they'll probably take you out for lunch and all that. Or they'll be orientation or some other official stuff to do."
"Oh, yeah. Your probably right. They'll probably be a lot of that." He said. During their summer before senior year, they were often able to meet for lunch two or three times a week. But besides the increased demands on their time now that they had `real' jobs, they were two bus stops farther apart. Brad was in the middle of downtown, but Mike was in the warehouse district to the west. He knew he'd miss having lunch togethers so often.
As they passed Superior Avenue on the bus, he suddenly realized that his own stop was coming up but Mike hadn't yet gotten off. By Brad's estimate, Mike should already be off the bus and hiking to his office.
"Damn, I think you missed your stop!" Brad exclaimed. "I guess we got distracted. Sorry! Can you take a cab back? Will you be late?"
Mike got up with no sense of urgency, pulling his pack over his shoulder as he moved into the aisle, but not without first giving Brad a slight punch to his leg.
"No I didn't forget to get off, and I don't have to be there right on time. But I wanted to make sure you got off OK. Sort of walk you to work on your first day, like your first day at school."
They walked the half block to Brad's office building and paused at the front door of the glassy lobby of the high rise, one of the tallest in the city. Mike reached up and straightened the starched collar on Brad's button-down white shirt. As opposed to Mike's jeans and polo shirt, Brad was more business-casual, with khaki pants in addition to brown loafers.
"You look...great." Mike said, as he tried to brush some stray dog hair off of Brad's arms. "by the way, I wonder who these belongs to?" He held up a few strands of black and grey dog hairs."
"I think he's shedding more in his old age," he continued "when we're downstairs or out of the house, he crawls up on to your side of the bed and leaves cute little tufts of hair on your pillow after he lounges there."
"He's going to get me fired" Brad said, with mock exasperation.
"Only if you bring his smell with you." Mike replied with laugh, after finishing a few more last minute touch ups of the shirt. He then positioned Brad right in front of him, putting his hands on his shoulders. "It's your first day, but don't be nervous, OK.? Mike said, giving him a shake. "You'll do great!"
"Uh huh." Brad responded, surprised by the question. He didn't think his anxiety showed. "See you tonight on the Bus? I'll save you a seat, right?"
Mike shook his head. "yup," then looked at his watch. "We'll, babe, I've got to go. So I'll see you on the bus? OK. And yes, try to save me a seat, but don't get in a fight over it, OK?" he said with a laugh has he gave Brad a punch to the shoulder and adjusted his backpack for the walk back to his office.
Just as he was about to turn and go, he felt Brad hand grip his shoulder and turn him around. Without a word, he practilly swallowed him in a hug.
Thanks for your patience, everyone! I know this chapter has taken a while. I'll try to get back on track for the next one.
Let me know what you think, especially if you have any thoughts about the jump in time. I really appreciate your comments -- besides the pleasure of writing, it's the only reward we authors get.