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Danny's First Love, part eleven
By Anthony Scordato
"Wait, what? I told you a secret and you were not allowed to tell me." I nodded. "But if I told you the secret, wouldn't I know it." I nodded. "I don't remember this."
"You were drunk." I sighed and recounted his drunken night. "You whispered in my ear that every morning, every night when you are home, even when you are with you friends you think about killing yourself."
"Fuck. I told you. I don't remember telling you."
"Then you said that the only time you don't think about it,"
"Is when I am with you. Fuck, Danny, I can't believed that I told you."
I just stared at him.
He said, "And I made you promise not to tell me I told you that?"
"Yes. But here is the thing."
I couldn't believe the pain I was feeling deep down in my chest and gut. I felt like it was hard to breath. It was like this was happening in the moment. "When you left. When no one knew where you had gone," I stopped and sat up with my back to him. "Damn it, Ryan. Fuck, I want to scream at you," I said. "Ryan, I thought you killed yourself. I was seventeen, looking for my best friend's body." Tears. "The boy I loved with everything in me. I was looking for his body." He touched me. I pulled away. "Fuck, I am so angry at you right now, it's best that you don't touch me."
Silence.
"You gave me that secret to walk around with for years and I could never talk to you about it."
"I had no idea. And I made you promise. I really am an asshole to have put that on you. It was mine to deal with not you."
I looked at him. "I should hate you. I really should." I wiped tears from my eyes. "You know we'd have sex, great crazy sex. You'd fall asleep and I'd look at you wondering why you wanted to kill yourself. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and you'd have your hear on my chest or shoulder, all curled up on me and I'd have the most wonderful feeling. No one else gets to hold you in your sleep but me. Then I'd think that you wanted to kill yourself." I looked at him. "I really should hate you."
"You're right. You should."
"I was so scared. I thought I'd die if I found you dead."
"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but"
"That day. The day I got back. I was sure you had killed yourself. I went to our place, our hide out. I thought that's where you'd do it. Fuck, Ryan, I was so scared. Then there was a time when I thought if you weren't dead, that I'd kill you. I was so angry at you for leaving, but so much angrier at you for not telling me you were okay."
"Fuck, Danny. Why don't you hate me?"
Tears. "The reason it got me crazy was because I was in love with you and I didn't know how to not be in love with you."
"Hit me."
"What?" I said, turning and looking at him. "You want me to hit you."
"Hit me. Go ahead. It will help."
"Shut up."
"Call me a cock bit and mean it. Shout it."
"You can't tell me to call you a cock bit and mean it."
"Okay, call me something and mean it. And you can hit me too."
"Cum breath."
"Ouch, nasty. That hurt."
I shook my head. "You really are an asshole."
"Danny, you are my first and only love. I'm sorry I told you about me wanting to commit suicide. I used to think about telling you, but I never knew how and I knew you'd ask why and I couldn't tell you. You were the person who helped me forget it was happening or ever happened." I saw tears in his eyes. "If I told you, then I'd have to remember it, but I wanted to tell you. Many times when we'd sit around at the river I thought about talking to you. I knew you'd be the only person I could tell, but it felt like I'd spoil what I had with you. I'm sorry."
I lay down in his arms. I said, "I do hate you, you know. Cock bit."
He chuckled. "I know and that really hurts good."
I laughed. "Hurts good. Did I ever really say that?"
He nodded and smiled.
I thought about asking him to sleep in my bed that night, but I knew if we had I'd be asking for him to put his cock deep inside of me and my head told me that I wasn't ready for that.
We went to Fisherman's Warf for dinner and then back to Columbus Ave for dessert. Sunday we walked all over San Francisco had Tex Mex for lunch in the Castro and then walked back to my apartment.
He left Monday and went back to work. We made plans for me to come down to San Diego in two weeks and spend the weekend with him.
I went to see my therapist on Wednesday. I told him all that happened. He mostly listened as he always does. We talked at length about my feelings about him showing up after so many years. Then we went on to what Ryan told me.
"I've worked with sexually abused children. Suicidal ideation is not unusual. The only way out of that place is finding a safe place to exist. As is so often the case, the home is not that place. Mark, at some level, knew he could molest Ryan and get away with it."
Tears filled my eyes.
"You were incredibly important to him and there was no way you could know that. You and your mother opened up a soft landing place for him."
I nodded.
"Danny, as a child, as with most sexually abused children, he didn't have the psychological strength to put words to what was happening to him. As a teen all he wanted to do was forget what happened. You and your mother gave him what he needed to do that.
"And he gave you a great deal in return. You were special to him and he let you feel that he was special to you. Something you very much needed. You both created that safe place."
Silence.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Safe places. He gave me that in middle school and then in high school. I mean he even made it safe for me to join a team. There was no way I would have done that if it weren't for him. And, I guess in some way I gave it to him." I looked at him. "I wonder if there's anything more important than that when you're a kid."
"Maybe not. And he made it safe for you to be gay. Like you said, he slept curled up in your arms."
I wiped tears from my eyes.
Silence.
I glanced up at him. "It's weird, I felt with him the way I always felt. Even though he hurt me so much, I still felt safe with him. Is that wrong? Should I not trust him?"
"I can't say. What I will say is then he was a child, like you, now he's an adult with it seems is a lot more self-awareness. Whether that mean more trustworthy than before I don't know."
"I felt really attracted to him. Like I always did. I wanted him in my bed, in my arms. I know that's weird, since he hurt me so much."
"But you didn't ask him into your bed."
"No. Why? Do you think I should have?"
"Danny, you know me better than that. Do you think you should have?"
"I wanted to, but no I didn't think I should have."
"Why is that?"
"I think if I even kissed him, you know deep kissing, I would have been head over heels for him."
"And that's wrong?"
"I don't know him. The adult him. I don't want to feel like I'm in love with him and then find out that I don't like him. No, that's wrong. Not that I don't like him, but that I'd be falling back in love with the teenager Ryan and not the adult Ryan. Besides, I don't even know if he wants to be in a love relationship with me and I'm not going there first. I've been there first. Not doing that again."
"So how are you going to find out what he wants?"
I sighed. "You know sometimes I don't like you."
He smiled. "Because I ask questions."
"Questions that have only one reasonable answer. Why don't you just say, so I guess you'll have to ask him what he wants?"
"So, I guess you'll have to ask him what he wants."
"Good, you're learning."
"So, what's going to lead the way here? Your head, your heart of your dick."
"Asshole."
He chuckled.
I said, "All three, I'd imagine. Wouldn't you?"
"I'd hope, but like you, I've sometimes made decisions because my dick spoke louder than my brain."
"Good to hear. Sometimes I think you're too much brain."
Silence.
He said, "You're angry with me."
"No. Sorry. Frustrated. Life is frustrating. Life is hard, too hard sometimes. You're a good person to vent my frustrations on."
"Okay."
"I love him, but I don't know if I'm in love with him."
"I think you're right. First loves are tough to get over. Maybe you'll never not love him. But you've got to find out if you can be in love with him again and if he can be in love with you again and that comes with time and familiarity."
"Damn it. Why can't you say, I think you should go to San Diego and fuck his brains out and let him fuck your brains out and then figure things out."
He smiled. "You're not paying me to tell you to get your rocks off. My guess is you don't need to pay anyone to tell you to do that. What I am telling you is that I agree with you. You are the type of person, and I mean this in the best way possible, who when you kiss and fuck, your heart gets involved."
"It's fucked up being that way. I mean I can top and not get involved, and I can kiss and not get involved, but you're right, if I'm kissing and getting fucked, I'm gone. I hate being that way. That's why I won't bottom."
"You're a man with a heart first. Let that be your guide."
"You know when I say I don't like you I don't mean it."
He chuckled. "You say it often and you always come back."
"I just need to put you in your place sometimes," I said and smiled.
He smiled, "Consider it done."
Silence.
"Where are you?"
"Remembering the first time we kissed. Not when he was drunk."
"You told me that the first time you and he kissed was when you were fucking."
"Our trip to Yellowstone. Have you ever kissed someone and felt it through your entire body. I mean even down to your toes?"
"Is that a question?"
"Yeah, I know you don't answer questions."
"Sometimes I do, don't I?"
"Yeah. Okay, it's a question."
"Yes, I felt it down to my toes. He's now my husband."
"Then you know what it's like to see him again."
"I do."
I sighed. Silence
He said, "Where did you go?"
"Ah, part of me wishes he had never shown up."
"You were better off Friday morning?"
"Well, I was happy. Now I'm confused, anxious."
"Happy with work."
"Exactly."
"What about outside of work, you know, your real life?"
"At least I was miserable. This is worse. I hate feeling like this."
"Like what?"
I stared at him. He stared back. "Not knowing."
"Not in control," he said.
"That too."
"By what we've said, what you had with him was sex that was not in control. Isn't that how you'd describe it."
Silence.
"Yes. Incredible sex. Doing whatever came to us to do. Fun sex. Loving sex. Free sex. Passionate sex. I mean, one time he's fucking me and as he got close he says that he wants to come on my face. I say go for it. He does and then he kisses my cum wet face and I'm kissing him. It was crazy. He says, I want to cum on your face and I say okay. That's the way we were."
"He was comfortable being vulnerable with you. He was in a safe place."
"What?"
"Well, think about it. He's about to come and asks to come on your face. You could have said, fuck you, how dare you, you're weird or shit like that."
"His girlfriends use to do that. I'd never do that to him."
"That's what I said. He could make himself vulnerable with you and you'd open yourself to it and not reject him."
"I never thought about it like that. You're right. I think I'd be scared to yell out I want to come on your face with anyone but him."
"Scared you'd be judged." I nodded. "But that was all done in the context of you being in love with him." I nodded. "You also made yourself very vulnerable. He was the first person that you told you were gay. And he was extremely important to you. You probably thought he could crush you if he rejected you."
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe being vulnerable is what made us trust each other so much and made the sex so hot."
"Does the possibility of that in the future scare you?"
"Being vulnerable? Fuck yes. I mean it about crushed me when he left. Now when I have sex I don't get deeply involved and when," I stopped and shook my head.
"When what?"
I shook my head.
"You were going to say, when you feel vulnerable you leave and when it's over you're not crushed."
"Right." I stared at him. "I really don't like you."
He smiled. "You're not crushed because."
"Because I'm the one who leaves."
"And can I suggest that your cue to leave is when you start feeling vulnerable."
I just stared at him.
"When are you going to be seeing him?"
"Nine days."
"Good, we'll have time to talk again. It's time for us to stop."
"Maybe I won't come back."
"Are you feeling vulnerable?"
"Now I really don't like you," I said standing.
"I know. See you next week."
Ryan called me Friday night.
"Hello," I said, seeing his name on caller ID.
"Hi."
"So, let me see. Okay, here goes. So, this is the call I've been waiting for for years. How are you?"
He laughed. "Cock bit."
I chuckled.
"You're not going to let it go. Are you?"
"Not right away," I said.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Ah, okay. Confused. A lot of memories."
"I know. Me, too."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Mostly good memories. They've always been there, but seeing you, hearing you and touching you brought the feelings that went with those memories back."
"Jerking off a lot?" I said and laughed.
"Actually, yes and enjoying it."
"Me, too."
"I have a couple of things planned for us when you come down. You are coming?"
"Yes. Tell me."
"No. I want to surprise you and see if you enjoy what I think you'll enjoy."
"I trust you," I said spontaneously, surprising myself.
"Thank you."
We talk for almost an hour about nothing. He said, "I like to ask you a question. You don't have to answer. Maybe you don't know the answer. Maybe it's inappropriate."
"Ask."
"Is there even a remote possibility that you'd be slightly open to sometime in the future like dating? Just be honest."
"As long as there is honesty, no exploring other possibilities while we date, I'd say yes, sometime after we got to know each other as we are now, yes I'd be open to dating."
"Thank you."
"How about this? I'll stop giving you shit about leaving the way you did and you stop thanking me for forgiving you for leaving the way you did."
"Deal."
"I will tell you this up front though."
"What?"
"If this becomes something. We can't have a long distance relationship."
He chuckled. "Thirty four times in ten days. Don't you think I know that?"
"Those days are over."
"Maybe not. Maybe we'll go for that forty."
I laughed.
"I'm really looking forward to seeing you on Friday."
We drove to Los Angeles and went to the Getty Museum. I loved it. We went to a great Italian restaurant that had the best food and great pastries. We went for a late night walk on the beach and swam in the ocean naked during the day. That brought back and lot of memories for both of us. I came home excited to see him again.
We spent the next three months seeing each other on weekends.
He came to San Francisco.
He gave me a hug when I picked him up at the airport. It felt so good to be in his arms even for a few seconds. We had dinner and went to Columbus Ave for dessert. It had become our thing to do.
I said, "Would you be ready to call this our first date?"
He smiled. "Yes." I saw tears in his eyes.
I smiled.
We took a cab back to my apartment.
"Would you consider sleeping in my bed tonight or don't you have sex on first dates?"
He laughed. "Actually, I don't, but since you asked so nicely, sure."
As we walked into my bedroom, I said, "So we can use condoms, but I was tested for everything again last month and for the last year I am clean completely."
"I tested months before I came up here and again just before I came up and then after I saw you. I've been clean for a year."
"Just before you came up. Pretty sure of yourself."
He laughed. "Can I watch you undress?"
"Here we go with the watching," I said and smiled. "And then I GET TO watch you."
By the time I pulled my boxer briefs off, I had a hard on.
He said, "Damn, you have grown. You've gotten thicker too."
"Shut up. Your turn."
He did a slow strip. When he began to pull his boxer briefs off he turned around and had his ass to me. He bend down so that I could see his crack, clean shaven hole and his scrotum. He looked fantastic. He turned. His erection, in all its glory, stood pointing at me.
I smiled and said, "I have a ruler someplace. Maybe we should measure."
He laughed. He moved and lay on top of me. "You know I did that so that I could cop a feel."
"You dog."
"But mostly I wanted to see if you'd let me and if you'd put your hand on my cock. I was really happy you did."
"I couldn't believe it was really happing. I was so excited I was shaking."
He smiled and kissed me. We kissed and moaned. I rolled on top of him. We kissed. Then he rolled on top of me and we kissed. We just kept kissing, licking and biting at each other. Moaning and groaning.
He looked at me and chuckled.
"What?" I said. "What do you want?"
"You know that I think you are fuckin' hot."
I smiled. "What do you want?"
"I was remembering that day we measured."
"Okay. So?"
"I want to watch you jerk off, and then if you want you get to watch me."
I blushed and smiled. "How do you want to do this?"
He rolled off me and lay on his back. "Straddle my hips."
I did as he asked. I looked down at him and smiled. "You're lucky that I enjoy doing this with you."
"More than lucky.
I stroked my cock as he watched. Since I was straddling his hips I felt his cock pressing against my taint. Enjoying the feeling, I moved my hips over his cock and I masturbated. He ran his hands over my thighs, hips and chest. He played with my nipples and my balls.
"You're an Italian stud."
I smiled and shook my head. "Shut up."
"Embrace it."
"I'm close," I said. He stared at my cock. "I want to come on your face."
"Yes, do it."
I moved closer and shot my load, aiming for his open mouth. Cum covered his face. Some got into his mouth. "You look fantastic," I said smiling and breathing hard. I leaned down and kissed him. We kissed wildly and passionately. I pulled at him, rolled him over. "Jerk off for me."
He sat up. He had cum dripping off his chin. I wiped it up and licked my finger clean. He looked fantastic. His body was tight. His abs defined and his cock looked huge. "How did I fit that thing up my ass," I said.
He laughed and stroked harder. I had just come and my cock was again rock hard. Only he could do that to me.
"I'm close," he said.
"On my face," I said.
He moved and stroked. Streams of hot cum shot from his cock and hit my face and fell into my open mouth. He lay on me and we kissed.
"Danny, I love you."
"I love you too."
We held each other and kissed. He said, "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Oh brother. Secret. Really?"
He laughed. "I kissed a lot of people, girls and guys. When I kissed you for the first time, was like my first kiss."
"What?"
"I felt it through my entire body. I never had that feeling before. Since you I have kissed other guys and I never felt it like I feel it with you. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes."
He rested his head on my chest. I stroked his head. He said, "It's strange how things have shifted."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, my guess is that when we were teens you hoped that I'd be available to you. You know, emotionally and sexually. Now I'm the one who is longing to be with you."
"I agree and disagree."
"Okay."
"Now we are both longing to be with each other."
He lifted his head and looked at me and then kissed me. "We were good to each other and for each other when we were teens. I think we can do that again. I want to, but this time more consciously."
"That's what I want to."
"I'm going to give you head," he said.
"And I'm going to give you head."
He smiled. "Do you want to shower first?"
"I don't need to."
He went down on me and as always, I moaned when I felt the warmth of his mouth on my cock. Moments later we swung around and sucked each other.
The smell of our cum filled the air. The taste sent a wave of pleasure through my body. I had sucked cock since I had last sucked his, but sucking his cock took me to places I had not gone since last giving him head.
I was getting close. He sucked my dick and rubbed my butt hole. Then he slid his finger into me. "Oh fuck, Ryan," I moaned and began shaking with pleasure. "Fuck," I called out as I shot my load. He swallowed.
He gently mouthed my cock as I sucked his. I wet my finger and slid in his ass. His body shook. He moaned and then he filled my mouth with his man juice. I moaned as shot after shot of cum filled my mouth. I swallowed and remembered the familiar taste and feel of his cum.
He turned and lay on top of me. We kissed.
We had agreed not to talk of his leaving again, no apologies, no criticism and no thank you for getting back together. We agreed that if things had gone differently, perhaps we would not be with each other.
But, I said, "I've really missed you."
"And I, you."
He snuggled up against me. "Can we fuck in the morning?"
I chuckled. "Need a nap?"
He laughed. "I'm not seventeen anymore."
I fell into a deep sound asleep with him in my arms; a wonderfully sound asleep. I hadn't slept that well in a long time. He woke me. "Naptime over," he said, kissing me. I could feel his erection against my leg.
"What time is it?"
"3:23. We've slept for three hours."
"You want to fuck me," I said.
"I want you to fuck me first."
"But you're the one with the hard on."
He put his hand on my cock and seconds later I was hard. I chuckled. He chuckled, "I still have this affect on you, don't I?"
"Asshole."
He laughed.
I rolled on top of him. We kissed. He pulled his legs to his chest. I smiled and scooted down and put my face to his ass and licked him until he was nice and wet. Then I put my cock head to his hole.
He said, "Welcome back."
I slowly pressed forward.
"Fuck me, Danny."
Slowly I pushed into him. When I was balls deep I lay on him. He held me and I thrust. We kissed passionately. It had been a long time since fucking someone felt so good. I fucked him and kissed him and we held each other.
When he slid his dick into me, he said, "Still tight but not too tight."
"Made for you by you," I said. "I haven't bottom since the last time we were together."
"But you love getting fucked."
"I still do. I've learned to use toys to fuck myself," I said.
He lay on me and kissed me as he pushed deep into me. He smiled and said, "You're incredible."
I laughed and said, "Shut up and fuck me."
We did the flying back and forth for six months. It was clear that I wouldn't be able to move to San Diego and do the work I was doing because getting onto someone's grant was not easy. He, however, was able to interview for a job at the hospital in San Francisco. Since it was still in the University of California system, he wouldn't lose what he had put into his pension or his seniority. He got the job. His move was more difficult than mine would have been since he had many friends and a support system in San Diego.
But, slowly, he developed a support system in SF and being who he is, soon made friends. We decided that with both our salaries we could afford a nicer and bigger apartment.
After he moved in, my mother called me to tell me that Mrs. Murray had cancer and that she and my mother had been talking and she knew that Ryan and I were a couple. Ryan had told my mother some of what had happened to him. What he said was that he was molested by Mark and from an early age and that his father knew.
My mother said, "She's accepted the fact of what has happened. As a matter-of-fact she called Mark and confronted him. When he said that Ryan liked it and that their father knew, she went off on him and screamed that she never wanted to see him again and that when she dies she doesn't want him at her funeral."
"Damn, she's accepted the fact that it happened."
"She doesn't know what happened, but yes, she knows that Ryan was sexually abused by his brother and that his father knew. She sits in my house and cries about it."
"So why are you telling me this?"
"Danny, she's dying. If Ryan can open his heart to her, it would make her passing so much easier. She's suffering knowing that she turned him away when he tried to tell her."
I sighed. "And you want me to talk to him."
"If you can."
"I can."
When Ryan came home, I said, "So, I have bad news, pretty bad news for you, but also, maybe some good news."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's your mother."
I told him all of what my mother told me. I watched his face trying to read him as I talked.
"You think she wants to see me?" he said. His voice broke. He started crying. "Fuck, I should be angry at her." He sat down, bowed his head and cried. I held him. "Why is this getting to me?"
"Ryan, she's your mother and she's dying. She's sorry it happened to you and sorry she turned you away. Of course you're hurting."
That night in bed I held him until he fell asleep. When I woke in the morning he was awake. "Will you do something for me?"
"Of course."
"Call your mother and ask her if she thinks I should call my mother or what I should do."
"Okay." I rolled over and grabbed my phone.
"You don't have to do it now."
I just stared at him. "Hi Mom. So, I talked to Ryan. He wants to see and talk to his mother. Should he call her?"
"Are either one of you working today?"
"No. We're both off."
"She's coming for dinner. Why don't you and Ryan just come for dinner? I think if he calls, well who knows what will be said and then she'll have to deal with the stress of waiting to see him. She's weak. I can tell her when she's on her way here that you're here."
I turned to Ryan and told him what my mother said. He nodded.
We dressed. Had a late breakfast and then drove to my mother's home. We had seen my mother on several occasions. We had gone to her home and she had come to SF and stayed with us. It was always relaxed and fun. When we walked into the house, the tension was obvious to all of us.
"What time is she coming over?" I asked
"Not for a while. I think I'll call her and see how she's doing and invite her up now. I have to go down and pick her up and drive her here. She's not supposed to drive and she can't walk up the hill."
My mother called her and then left in her car. We watched as my mother drove into our driveway. Ryan saw his mother sitting in the car. "She looks bad," he said. Tears filled his eyes. "I've got to stay strong."
"No you don't."
We watched my mother talking to her. It was obvious when my mother told her that Ryan was in the house. The expression on her face changed suddenly and she began to cry. My mother held her.
Ryan cried watching.
My mother walked with her up to the house. Ryan went outside with his arms open. "Mom," he said.
They held each other and wept. She kept saying, "I'm sorry, Ryan, so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't protect you from either of them and I turned you away."
"I love you, Mom. Always, I've loved you."
Tears fell from my eyes and my mother's eyes. This is why I re-fell in love with this man, I said to myself. He asks for loves and gives love. He asks for forgiveness and gives forgiveness.
We sat and talked for hours. Not about Mark, or Dr. Murray, but about growing up, about Ryan and I being in love and living together. Mrs. Murray said, "I was so happy when Sophia told me you two were in love and living together. You were both always so good for each other." She looked at me and said, "I always loved you, but now even more because then and now you brought happiness into my son's life. Thank you."
She looked at my mother. "I don't know how to thank you for all your kindness over the year. And now this."
"Mary, we're family. That' what family does."
Mary died and left everything but her jewelry to Ryan. Her jewelry went to Kristen who was a practicing dentist and married to a dentist. They were living in Denver. Ryan was surprised at the funeral to find out that Mary wasn't going to be buried beside Dr. Murray. She bought another plot on the other side of the cemetery. When Ryan mentioned it to my mother, she said, "She didn't want you to have to see his grave when she was buried and when you came to visit her."
Ryan cried.
We cleaned out and cleaned up the house, had the garden restored and part of the property landscaped and with my mother's approval of the people buying the house, sold it to a young professional couple with two young boys and two Labrador Retrievers. One retriever was black and his name was Boris. The other was a red and his name was Morris.
Ryan and I made plans to go to Italy for a month. One evening Ryan said to me, "You know making amends with my mother has meant a great deal to me. I feel like a deep wound has healed. And I know it was important to her. If she had passed and things were the,"
"Where are you going with this?" I said.
"Your father."
"Ryan."
"Listen to me. We're flying to Europe. We can stop on the east coast either on the way there or on the way back and see your father."
"What makes you think he wants to see me?"
"You'll not know unless you reach out to him. You've got nothing to lose at this point."
"You know sometimes I don't like you, even though I love you, sometimes I just don't like you."
He laughed. "I know. You love me for the sex."
"I don't even know how to get in touch with him."
"Don't be angry. But I did a search on one of those websites and I found out that he's still living in upstate New York. We could fly to New York, drive up and see him and then drive back and head to Europe."
He handed me a piece of paper with my father's information on it.
I had a lot of mixed feelings about calling him. Mostly negative. I felt like I was doing fine without him in my life, why change that. I called my mother and talked to her. She refused advice but said that she thought there was a good chance it wouldn't go well. "Why?" I asked.
"He was always a strange man. Rigid."
"You know, I never asked this, but why did you marry him?"
"I was pregnant."
I felt sick. "You had to get married."
"No. I decided to get married. I never felt like I had to get married. He wanted to marry me. I wanted you to have a father."
Silence.
"Danny, I have no regrets about any of this. You are the best thing that's happened to me in my life. I'd change nothing."
I talked to my therapist about it. No need to go into what he didn't say, but said.
I decided to call him.
Ryan sat on the sofa and stared at me as I dialed. I said, "If this goes badly, I'm going to kick your ass. So, you'd better be ready to run for the door."
His wife answered the phone. I explained who I was. "This I Danny Spatola. We met many years ago when I was about eight. How are you?"
She said nothing.
"Hello, Danny?" my father said.
"Yes, Dad."
"Well, so finally you decided you wanted to talk to your father. What are you wanting?" he said in an off-putting tone.
"Wanting? Nothing other than to talk to you and maybe see you."
"Where are you?"
"In San Francisco, but we'll be in the area and I thought if you wanted we could meet up and talk."
"I'm pretty busy, but I guess we could meet. Who is we?"
"What?"
"You said we'll be in the area."
"Oh. Do you remember Ryan Murray. He was Doctor and Mrs. Murray's youngest son. They lived,"
"I remember the Murrays."
"Well, Ryan and I will be on our way to Europe. Anyway, when we have definite plans, I'll let you know and we can set something up."
"Their youngest boy, right?"
"Yes."
"You're still friends with Ryan?"
"We're partners, Dad."
"You're in business with him and you're traveling with him."
"No, Dad. Ryan and I are partners as in we are in love and live together."
Silence.
"Dad?"
"I always thought you were a little light in your shoes."
"What does that mean?"
"Queer," he said in that derogatory tone.
I felt my jaw clench tightly. "I think what you mean is gay."
"I meant what I said. Look, I'm not bringing that into my home."
"That? That? I'm not a that. I'm your son."
"Well, I'd be willing to meet you someplace, but not with that boy."
"You know something, this was a mistake. I'm sorry I called. But before I hang up. One more thing. Fuck you, old man." And then I hung up.
I slowly turned my gaze to Ryan. He said, "Sounds like it didn't go well."
I just stared at him.
"Hit me. You'll feel better."
"You know, one of these times I am going to hit you."
"Call me a"
"Ryan, this isn't funny." Tears filled my eyes. "Right now I need to go for a walk by myself."
"Okay."
I got up and left. I wasn't more than a block from our apartment when I had this feeling he was following me. I turned and he was. I stared at him as he walked toward me. "I meant alone," I said.
"You're alone. I just decided to go for a walk, while you were going for a walk."
I stared at him.
"Danny, you know it was worth the try. Even though it went to shit, you know it was worth it."
We started walking. He said, "You can't tell me that it hasn't been sitting there someplace in the back of your mind. Who is he? What would it be like?"
"I suppose."
"Well, now you know. He's an asshole and you're so much better off without him in your life. I'd say the best thing that happened to you was that he left. Imagine if you had grown up with that shit in your life. Instead you had a wonderful loving person."
"My mom."
"Well, yeah, her too."
I looked at him. He smiled. "Of course your mom and me."
Ryan and I went to Italy for a month. We rented a house just outside of Florence and made that our home base. From there we took trips all over Italy. We went to all the tourist places, but we spent a lot of time off the beaten path, eating in local restaurants and drinking the local wines. The food and wine and the people were fantastic.
The week before we left Italy, my mother joined us. It was fantastic watching her enjoy Italy. But what was even more enjoyable, was watching how she and Ryan enjoyed each other. One night, in bed while in Italy, he said to me, "You know, if it wasn't for your mother, you and I might never have been friends."
"Why do you say that?"
"She turned my brother away, but never turned me away. As a matter-of-fact, she more than welcomed me into her home. And as you've said, she figured out you were gay long before you told her. She could have decided that there was no way you were going to be left with me at your house while she was in San Francisco and she could have not allowed our sex trip to Yellowstone."
"I hadn't thought about that."
"You're luck, Danny."
"Well, at least I got one good parent." I looked at him. "And you got to reconcile with your mother and make things right."
"Again, thanks to you mother."
I sighed and nodded. It really is amazing the affect one person can have on your young life, either good or bad.
Ryan and I returned to SF. He now works in the ED and I am still doing research and teaching. We are looking to relocate, but not right away.
Oh yeah. Ryan and I are setting a date to marry.
Thank you very much for patiently reading along. I hope you enjoyed my story. Actually, it's our story: Ryan's and my story?