Fork in the Road

FORK IN THE ROAD By Scott Turner Chapter 14

"If you come to a fork in the road, take it." -Yogi Berra

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that occasionally contains rather graphic depictions of sexual activity between consenting adult men. If that's not your cup of tea, or if it is illegal for you to possess or read such material, then please go elsewhere. This story is copyrighted, 2008, and may not be reproduced, reposted or published without the expressed permission of the author.

Scott had just hit `print' for the final draft of a group project in his sociology class. All he needed to do was pay for the pages at the desk, have some copies made for the other three in his group, and then brave the snow and wind on his trudge up the hill.

The woman behind the desk was a dowdy, mousy looking little thing whom he'd never seen smile. The semester was winding down, the holidays were approaching and he was in a great mood. He was suddenly on a mission to get a grin out of her. After collecting his printed pages, he handed her a ten and asked her to break up some of the change into coins for the copy machine. She frowned but she obliged.

He beamed. "Thank you very much. And have a very Merry Christmas!"

She bit her cheek. "Not necessary young man. And please don't assume that I worship or even recognize Christian superstitions."

"Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to offend." He noticed her wedding ring and saw a couple of framed photos with her and two young children next to her computer. Glancing over his shoulder, he was happy to see that there were no others waiting in line behind him. "Must be a relief and save you a bundle this time of year. No gifts to hassle with, no travel or cooking and all that hullabaloo to take up your time."

She handed him the change. "Well we do buy presents and all that...well, not that it's any of your business."

His eyes widened. "And I can assume that if I come by at four p.m. on the 24th or nine a.m. on the 25th, you'll be here, right?"

She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips. "Of course not. We're closed."

His eyes widened. "Closed? Why?"

Her look back at him said, `You frickin' moron!' "The holidays of course."

Scott smirked. "And I'm sure you've complained to the administration or to the Regents about the flagrant celebration of Christian superstitions at a public university, right?"

She said nothing.

Scott lightly slapped the desktop. "We have to do something about this!"

She huffed. "It's not up to me."

"But you haven't bitched to anyone the way you just did to me?"

Nothing.

He pocketed the change. "Okay, then. I'll just wish you a Merry day-and-a-half off with pay. I'm guessing you do celebrate that. For me, I'm going to have a very Merry Christmas, and I'll tell you again that I hope you and your family will do the same." He turned and strode to the copy machine with a smile on his face.

About three hours later he was in the WSA office reading the itinerary for an upcoming student government workshop in Chicago. It was ironic. On the one hand, Scott wondered why anyone would schedule a conference in Chicago in December. On the other, it served his purposes rather well. The phone rang. "Hey, Radar! What's up?"

"Our friend Senator Lyman is on his way up."

Scott sighed and grinned. "Well, a day without Elliot is like a day without sunshine. Thanks for the heads up. Hey, have you had a chance to look over the stuff from the Chicago conference?" He was going to keep Walter on the phone for a few minutes, just for fun. Lyman appeared in the doorway and Scott waved him in, pointing at a chair.

The clerk was enthused. "Yeah! Looks like some good stuff there, enough to keep me out of trouble anyway." Elliot was already shaking one foot impatiently.

Scott worked to avoid a grin. "I like the looks of the session on upgrading and modernizing internal communications and the one on inter-governmental relations."

The clerk snorted. "That `cuz you want me to get better at contacting folks whenever you want, and you want to schmooze with more people in high places."

"You know me all too well, Radar. I think it'll be fun and we'll bring back a lot of stuff for the good of the cause." Elliot was picking at his nails now and looking around the room impatiently. `Perfect,' Scott thought. "Well, Elliot's here. I don't want to keep him cooling his heels. Better hang up and find out what's up."

Walter chuckled. Yeah, right. Whatever you say. Okay, boss. Later." Scott hung up the phone.

"So, Elliot, what's up?"

Lyman slammed the announcement on Scott's desk. "This is unacceptable." Scott had re-scheduled the December meeting from the second week in December to the third week, blaming the Chicago conference as the reason for the change.

Scott looked up and stared at him. "It was necessary. The WSA president AND its clerk will be in Chicago attending a national conference on university's student governments. Plus,k four or five of our Greek members have notified me that they're attending a similar national conference in the Twin Cities that week. I thought it best to change the date."

"But that's finals week! Who knows how many won't attend the WSA meeting because of final exams?"

Scott shrugged. "They've had ample notice. I guess it all depends on how important it is to them. We're all free agents, Elliot with the power to plan and choose. But to try and hold a meeting the previous week would be insane.

"You can't do this. You know we won't have a quorum on the last day of final exam week."

Scott leaned over and propped his elbows on the desk. "Quite to the contrary, Elliot. I can do it and I have done it. The president has the unbridled power to schedule and reschedule meetings, both regular and special ones. In addition, he or she can set the agenda and manage the discussion and debate. The December meeting will be on the 20th, and I hope to see you there. Like you said, we need to have a quorum to get anything done for the good young men and women of the UW. Given that, your attendance will be much appreciated."

"But my last final is on the 19th. I was going to be back in Reedsburg by the 20th."

Scott shrugged. "Like I said, we're all free agents with choices to make. Be there or don't. It's your call. But give my warmest wishes to your family for a very happy holiday season whatever you decide" He wanted to flip the spindly little weasel off with both hands, but resisted the temptation.

Just as Elliot opened his mouth to speak the phone rang. Scott was happy for the interruption. It would allow him to dis' Mr. Lyman a little more. He held up a finger saying `hold that thought' and picked up the phone. "Hello. Scott Turner."

"You're fucking brilliant." It was Sonja Weiss.

Scott smiled. "Well not sure I'd go that far, but I have my moments."

Despite her outward masculinity, she was almost giddy. "Just got the notice of the date change." She giggled. "No way in hell we'll have a quorum on the 20th."

Scott smiled. "Well, we'll see. Hey, let me call you back okay? I have somebody here in the office." He looked up at the seething Elliot Lyman. "Okay. We're almost done here anyway. Call you in a few, okay?" He hung up and leaned forward on the desk again. "So, Elliot, the meeting date is set. We either will or will not have a quorum, and I can't affect that one way or another." He smiled and raised his brows in a question. "Is there anything else?"

Lyman shook his head and Scott stood. "Well, then, I appreciate your stopping by to express your concerns. If it could get done another way, I'd do it, but the original date was so very impractical."

Elliot stopped at the door and looked back. "This is sleazy, Turner. It's just dirty."

Scott shrugged again. "You'd be the one to know sleazy and dirty, Senator Lyman. It is what it is. The meeting will convene on the evening of the 20th. Have a good day." Elliot stormed down the hall, down the stairway and out the door.

Scott shook his head. "Fuckwad," he muttered. Then he smiled and sat back down. He borrowed from an old Mel Brooks movie. "Some days it is good to be king." He picked up the phone and called Sonja back. "Senator Weiss! Glad you called."

"Great move, Mr. President. There'll never be a quorum on the 20th."

"Weeellll...that remains to be seen. The notice just went out yesterday. Walter's going to tally the responses, and the only two I've heard from are you and our good friend Elliot Lyman. He was the one in my office when you called, and he's having a hissy fit."

She snorted. "Probably condemning you to Hell as we speak."

"Well, something tells me that his God and my God are not the same guy. Maybe they'll have to toss a coin for my soul." She laughed. "Anyway, I might need to call you in another week and have you make sure that four or five of your folks stay home that night. We need to be sure that the attendance is fifteen or less."

"Well, I'm not gonna miss it, but I can locate that many who will stay away if we need it"

"Okay. Either I'll call you next week or Radar will give you a call with the expected attendance, and you can make any necessary adjustments."

"Gotcha. This is gonna work."

"But with no January meeting `cuz of the winter break, we're gonna have to be ready to act on this once and for all by February. You gotta have sixteen votes in line by then."

"Not to worry, Scott. We'll have them."

Scott chuckled. "You go girl. I gotta get to class."

"Later then. Have a good one."

"You too. Buh bye."

He hung up and grinned. "Yes, it is good to be king."

It made the front page of practically every daily newspaper in the state, and would hit the small town weekly editions in the next several days. Brown County, the home of Greens Bay, was building a new courthouse. This was made possible in large part by the expert legislative maneuvering of Senator Cletus VanderHoeffel. "Concrete Clete," as he was affectionately known, was quite a character. He never met a road or building project he didn't like, especially if it was in his home district. The man was a legend due to his phenomenal ability to bring the pork home to Green Bay and the surrounding area.

So, naturally, the good senator was in the front ranks of local, county and state dignitaries that afternoon when they laid the cornerstone of the new Brown County Justice Center. He was beaming as he pressed the flesh in the crowd. It was a clear, not too cold December day and Clete reminded the folks that this was sort of his Christmas present for the good people of Brown County. As the officials stood near the construction fence, a huge crane lifted the one-ton block and the time capsule embedded within it, and slowly swung it above the crowd to align it with the target spot below. Everybody looked up, shielding their eyes from the afternoon sun.

And then it happened. For reasons that would be investigated and litigated for the better part of the next two years, the chain that cradled the massive stone snapped. People gasped, some screamed, and poor old Clete just wasn't quick enough. It was a gruesome sight. VanderHoeffel's blood and bones spread out several feet all the way around the stone and his crushed body.

Scott was saddened as he read the article. He had genuinely liked the jovial old guy. Still, he couldn't help thinking that it was wildly ironic. `The poor gentleman made a political career out of paQXvement, bricks and mortar. I s'pose if it was his time to go, it might as well be under a huge chunk of marble paid for by the good people of the State of Wisconsin.' He immediately felt a pang of guilt from such a callous thought.

He left the apartment early so that he could drop by Maureen's office. Her secretary wasn't in yet, but her office door was open. He rapped on the door and peeked in. Maureen was just hanging up the phone and she waved him in as she wiped her eyes.

Scott put his hands in his pockets. "Tough news about Senator VanderHoeffel."

Maureen blew her nose and nodded. "That was his wife I was just talking to. She's just devastated."

"I'll bet. What a shocker. I didn't know him all that well, but he seemed like a sincere, good-hearted guy." Maureen wiped her nose again and nodded. Scott sat down and crossed his legs. "I don't mean to be crass or insensitive, but how do things like this play out around here? What happens now?"

Maureen cleared her throat and pulled herself together. "Well, Governor Hackett will order flags at half staff, probably for the rest of the week. We'll pass a proclamation honoring all the hard work that Clete did for the people of Brown County and of Wisconsin, and then we'll get through the funeral."

"And what about the vacancy?"

"Well, with something so sudden like this it depends on the timing. Other than the budget we'll haggle over this spring, we won't have a lot going on until the new legislature is convened next January. And with a stronger majority now there's no political reason to schedule a special election. We can manage the budget issues even with one seat vacant if need be. But that'll be up to Ted Hackett. I'll advise him to leave it open and schedule an election for the regular spring Election Day in April. Municipal offices, school boards, county supervisors and judges are already scheduled for spring elections. You get a better turn out than if you schedule `a special' in the middle of winter in Wisconsin. Plus, there's no additional cost to the state. They just add another few names to the ballot. And that would still give any interested candidates enough time to mount meaningful campaigns."

Scott nodded. "Any idea who might replace the good senator?" He was stung by another twinge of guilt with all these questions about a replacement when the man hadn't been dead for much more than 36 hours.

She rolled her eyes. "Tough to say. It's a real swing district. Might be hard to hang onto." She scoffed. "I'm sure Senator Frick is already working on a short list to recruit. He and Clete never got along all that well anyway. So, I doubt he's crying in his coffee this morning." She glanced up. "And that's not to be repeated."

Scott smirked. "C'mon Maureen, Senator Frick doesn't really `get along' with anybody. He tolerates other lesser mortals and wants us all to be afraid of him."

She just shook her head and sighed. "Such a tragedy."

He nodded as he stood and reached down to pat her hand. "Well, I'm sorry for your loss. Let me know if you need a shoulder to cry on. I'd better get downstairs. I'm sure the place will be abuzz this morning."

She forced a smile. "Thank you, Scotty. You're such a dear."

"Take care now. I'll see you later." He quietly made his exit.

The December WSA meeting lasted all of ten minutes, just as Scott had hoped. Radar called the roll and then turned to address the chair. "Mr. President, only fifteen of thirty-one members have answered `present.' I'm afraid we lack a quorum."

Scott looked disappointed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I appreciate your making the time to be here tonight. Unfortunately, lacking a quorum, there's really nothing we can do here. As you know, with the winter break upon us, there will be no meeting in January. This body will assemble again the second week of February. So I guess all there is to do is to wish you all happy holidays and entertain a motion to adjourn."

Sonja was on her feet. "Move to adjourn, Mr. President."

It's been moved that we adjourn until the second week in February. Is there a second?"

A voice from the back of the room shouted "Second!" Walter knew the voice and continued typing for the record.

Scott went on. "Moved and seconded for adjournment. All those in favor?" Fourteen voices muttered `Aye." "Those opposed? Elliot Lyman bellowed "Nay!"

The gavel went down hard. "Whack!" Scott looked at Elliot. "Motion to adjourn passes." As he walked toward the door, he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, "too bad you had to delay the trip home, Elliot, all for naught."

Elliot scowled. "You're in a hurry to leave. Have some sheep waiting for you at home?"

Scott flashed a broad smile. "And a very Merry Christmas to you too my brother. May the blessings of Jesus Christ be abundant to you and yours." He then turned and left the room.

Scott and his mom were working together wrapping presents at the dining room table when the phone rang. Suzanne was closest so she put down the tape and took a couple steps to grab the phone. "Hello?" She laughed. "And a Merry Christmas to you too, Marty!" Scott smiled and continued to make the right folds and tape them down while his mom chatted with his buddy. "How are you dear? Oh, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for all of you!"

Scott paid attention to her end of the conversation; happy to hear his mom's reactions to whatever Marty was telling her. He recalled Marty coming up from Rockford over the previous year's break and getting drunk at the nursing home with his grandmother, Evelyn. Evelyn had liked Marty. Everybody liked Marty. He put a bow and a label on the wrapped package and set it with the rest of them.

Suzanne shook her head. "No, dear. We're going to my brother's house for a bit, but it will otherwise be a fairly quiet, lazy day around here." She listened for another few seconds and giggled. "Okay, dear. He's right here. You enjoy the holidays and our best to Jill and the kids." She hesitated. "Well thank you. Here he is." She was still smiling when she handed Scott the phone.

"Ho ho ho! What's up buddy?"

"Aw, shit, Scotty. Things are friggin' great! Jill had to go through another one of those sadistic marrow biopsies the other day, but she's showing cancer free right now!"

"No shit?" There was an immediate lump in this throat.

"No shit, bud! We're not out of the woods by any stretch. She needs to stay this way for a lot longer, and she ain't a hundred percent, but she's feeling a lot better. She even took Ashley down to the Y to let her go swimming. A month ago, that wouldn't have been imaginable. I'm hunkered down here with little Scotty for the day."

"How's the lad?"

"Mostly the same...eat, sleep, poop, but he's jabbering a lot more and getting bigger every day. Of course, everybody's going to spoil him rotten next week, but he won't even know it. In a lot of ways gifts are wasted on newborns and toddlers."

Scott smiled. "Well I mailed mine this morning. Hope they all fit." Scott had sent a pair of Green Bay Packer jammies, a Badger jersey and a little baby's foam cheesehead. He was pretty sure the boy would hate having the wedge of cheese on his head, but hoped for a picture anyway. "But that's great about Jill!"

"And there's a little more. She's feeling well enough to travel. Right after Christmas a bunch of her girlfriends want to take her up to Chicago for a couple days of shopping the sales and doing God knows what. And her folks want to take the kids up to Wisconsin Dells to an indoor water park resort kind of place. Ashley's beside herself on the idea. Thinks she's gonna teach Lil' Scotty how to swim. So, I'm going to be bacheloring it for a few days. Thinking about a quick road trip up to Mad Town."

Scott nodded and grinned. "Great timing. We part-timers at the Capitol are on optional status during the break. But I was gonna come down anyway and do a little work for the WSA, and maybe put in a few hours with the caucus." He thought about the card taped to his computer screen. "Let's plan on meeting at the apartment on the 27th. We can have a few cocktails and then head over to The Avenue and pig out. Then I'll whoop your ass in backgammon."

"In your dreams, professor. Well, the little one calls, so I'd better run. He's got me wrapped around any one of his tiny little fingers and he knows it."

"Well, you can't keep my boy waiting. Get on it. Call my cell on the 26th or during the day on the 27th and we'll nail down times and places and all that crap."

"No prob. I still have a key to the apartment, so if you'll be out and about, I'll just make myself at home."

"Sounds like a plan. Talk to ya' later." He shut off the cordless, returned it to the cradle and went back into the dining room.

Suzanne looked up. "Sounds like things are going pretty well at The Andersons."

Scott smiled and dug his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, really good! Marty's on top of the world. It's about time."

Suzanne grinned again and nodded. "What a wonderful Christmas present for them."

"No kidding! Now Jill just needs to stay this way. From what I've read, that beast could still return. Something about her age and this kind of leukemia that makes it really hard to treat or cure." He sighed and thought about it for a minute, then thought again about the coming meeting in Madison with Marty. "Hey, mom. I need to fire off an e-mail. I'll be back in a couple of minutes to help you finish up." Suzanne just nodded and waved him away.

He bounced up the stairs to his room. The computer was already up and running. He dug around in his book bag and found his little personal directory. "Let's see now." He was grinning. "Did I enter that under Kip' or Monmouth?' He giggled. "Marty's going to freak."

A week later, Scott and Marty walked in the back door of The Avenue a little after seven. As usual the place was packed. They both had a mild buzz on already from the cocktails Scott had prepared while they were at the apartment. Scott tapped Marty on the shoulder. "I gotta pee. You're legal and I'm not. You go to the bar and order a couple of drinks. I'll tap the bladder and get our name in for a table."

Marty flashed a thumbs up. "Gotcha. Catch you back by the bar in a few." Scott hit the men's room, then the hostess's desk and ambled back toward the bar, suppressing a grin. Marty handed him a drink. They tapped glasses together and sipped in unison. Scott looked just above his buddy's eyebrows and forehead. "Good to have the hair coming back?"

Marty shrugged. "I was gonna keep buzzing it off, but Jill doesn't want me running around this time of year with a naked head. So, it's cool." He rubbed the short brown hair on his scalp. "Takes a bit of getting used to, and it was a hell of a lot easier in the morning. Used to `wash my hair' with some soap, a washcloth and then dry off the noggin. Done."

Scott winked. "I like you better with a pelt on top. If you want, though, we can shave your ass when we get back to the apartment."

A minute later one of the waitresses, Allison by her nametag, came up to them. "If you gentlemen would follow me?"

Marty's eyes widened. "That fast? You must know somebody here Scotty."

Allison smiled. "Actually, your friends got here about twenty minutes ago. They're waiting at the table. Just follow me."

Scott fell in line and Marty swatted his shoulder. "Our friends?"

Scott waved him off. "Just relax. You're about to shit in your pants."

As they exited the short hallway into the large and busy dining room Kip stood up and waved. Glenn stood up as well. Marty stopped in his tracks. "Holy good God damned shit! Kip fucking Monmouth!" He looked down at a young, scowling mother and her two little kids. "Sorry ma'am. I have Tourette's syndrome. Can't stop it sometimes." He looked at the kids. "You two know you shouldn't talk like that right? That is, if you can help it? It's wrong." The mother looked unconvinced. The kids just giggled. Marty caught up with Scott about halfway across the dining room floor. "You S.O.B.!"

Scott looked over his shoulder. "Surprised? I figured it was about time I threw a curve ball your way for once. Now, be nice."

"Gotta admit, Kip's looking good. Who's the hottie with him?"

"His partner, Glenn. He's from Melbourne. Met him once. Seems like a nice guy."

Kip's hand was out before they reached the table. Scott grabbed it and reached with his left to squeeze Kip's upper arm in a manly sort-of half hug. Damn,' he thought, the guy's been working out."

As they greeted each other, Marty stuck out his hand to the stranger. "Hi. I'm Marty. Marty Anderson."

Glenn's smile was wide and very engaging. "Aha! Kipper's talked about you. You're the one who..."

Kip cut him off. "If it was bad or painful or just plain annoying, then he's probably the one. Bane of my existence my last two years here." Kip smiled and stuck out a hand. "How the hell are you, Anderson?"

Marty took the hand. "I am well, my good man. Very well indeed." They took their seats as he continued. "I have a wonderful wife, a beautiful step-daughter and a newbord son who is living large right now down in Rockford."

They sat. Kip sipped his drink. "Married? Really!" He waved a finger across the table at both of them. "I came to think that the two of you were...well...that you were..."

Marty waved him off and he chuckled. "Stranger things have happened, Kipper. I ain't saying yes, I ain't saying no. Neither, I think, is Scotty, but that's up to him. Think what you want." He put a hand on Scott's forearm. "We're still best buds. Brothers from another mother, him and me. Thick as thieves." Kip just smiled and nodded.

Scott chimed in. "So Kip, Melbourne University, huh?"

Kip offered up the plate of chicken wings they'd ordered as an appetizer. Both Scott and Marty plopped three wings on their plates. Kip nodded enthusiastically. "Beautiful place. Oldest and most prestigious university in Victoria. Great MBA program. Outstanding public transportation, so we can get by with just one car. He laid his hand on Glenn's, on top of the table, and squeezed. Glenn blushed a bit. "We're living large ourselves."

Marty looked at the Aussie visitor. "And what about you, Glenn? Still in school?"

Glenn chewed and swallowed the bit of chicken wing he'd been munching on and nodded. "Yeah. In my last year before I get the degree and teaching credentials. Hope to land a job in a classroom next year."

Scott nodded. "Teaching what?"

Kip cut Glenn off. "The happy bastard can teach anything. He's a real Renaissance man. History, Geography, Geology, Math, Computers...you name it. There's nothing he isn't curious about and very little that he can't master."

Glenn blushed. "You're too kind, love."

Gwen, who had waited on Scott before at The Avenue, came by to take their orders. Scott and Marty both opted for the red meat, top sirloins. The guys from down under went for the fish. Glenn opted for lake perch and Kip for the cod filet, a poor man's lobster with plenty of lemon and butter.

Scott took a drink of water and looked across the table. "Good Christmas you guys?"

Kip grinned and rolled his eyes. "Un-fucking-real! Glenn's dad's family was all there. More like a tribe, actually. Had to be, what?" He looked at Glenn, "about seventy people there?"

Glenn grinned. "Yeah, that'd be about roit."

Kip grinned. "I love it what he says roit.' Dontcha just love that accent?" He laughed and continued. "Of course they all took a shining to me right away. Obviously a clan of outstanding judgment." Scott and Marty exchanged glances, seemingly reading each other's minds. Who is this guy and what has he done with Kip Monmouth? The guy who was just about the coldest prick on the planet is now just plain giddy!'

Glenn snorted and swatted Kip's arm. "Treated him like some damned prince, they did. At times, it was like I wasn't even there."

Kip snickered and sipped his water, then looked back at Scott. "Seen Kelly lately? How's she doing?"

Scott coughed. "Uhm, haven't seen her in about a month, but it looks like she's doing great. I'll probably see more of her this summer. She's planning to live with her Aunt Maureen a lot of the time while she works on Maureen's and my dad's campaigns."

Kip's face questioned. "Your dad's campaign?"

Scott nodded. "Maureen McCarthy is running for Attorney General, and my old man is running for her seat. He has her support, so I'd guess that makes him the leading candidate to replace her."

Kip's face lit up. "Good for him, and for you." He took a drink and motioned to Gwen for another round. "We're going back to Brookfield tomorrow and staying til just after the New Year. I wouldn't be surprised if we ran into Kelly. She and I went to different high schools, but pretty much traveled in the same crowd in that area of the Milwaukee burbs. A couple of small reunions are on the agenda this week, so I'll bet we run into her. I'd like Glenn to meet her."

Glenn scoffed. "Gimme a glimpse of what you used to sniff after around here, ay?"

Marty couldn't resist. "Don't kid yourself, Glenn. Ol' Kipper here used to sniff around a lot more than Kelly."

Kip kicked him under the table and Glenn laughed. "I know, I know. Don't think there's much he hasn't told me about the good old days at the UW. He can go on, and on, and on, and..." Kip swatted his arm.

They joked and laughed about the `bad and the good old days' when Scott and Kip were at each other's throats. Kip blushed more than once, even though Glenn had heard his version of all of it at least once. The four of them shared two desserts, cheesecake and an enormous slab of apple crisp and they sipped strong coffee. At Kip's request, Scott filled him in on current goings on within the WSA.

Scott launched into a twenty-minute diatribe. "Jesus!" Kip said as he slowly chewed on a bit of cheesecake. "Sounds like this Lyman guy's a bigger pain in the ass than I ever was."

Scott smirked. "Wouldn't have thought it possible. But, yeah, he is. And he plays hardball. I'm being raked across the coals by `The Herald' and am being greeted by protesters outside the office. It's a fucking zoo." Then he smiled. "But I got his goat when I rescheduled this month's meeting."

Kip grinned. "Better you than me, buddy."

Marty shrugged. "Besides, Scotty. It's not like he's really playing dirty. Free press. Free speech and all that good stuff. C'mon, it's not like slashing tires or anything." He winked at Kip and Scott shot him an elbow before changing the subject. He swallowed a forkful of the apple crisp and sipped his coffee. "So, good to be back, Kip?"

Kip's eyes lit up. "In Madison? Are you kidding me? I love it here! Freezing my ass off, but yeah it's great being back." He paused and thought. "My dad's clearly on edge, and I had to enlist big bro' in bringing the old boy around to play nice with me and Glenn. Not hard to do these days when I remind dear old Chas of a certain disk full of pictures I have." He looked at Marty. "Scott knows this already, but me and Glenn and Chas had a bit of a party one night, Glenn's a techno-weenie, and we got Chas in all his glory." He snickered. "Took a page out of your playbook, Anderson, and I still have Chas by the balls." Kip had a series of very compromising pictures including his pitiful lawyer brother, himself and Glenn. It had been a pretty good time and the pics had paid off big time. "I'm guessing you'd understand, Marty."

Marty laughed and slapped the table, then raised his coffee cup. "I believe I would understand completely." Then he pointed at Kip. "Don't say I never taught you anything!" Marty had played the same blackmail game with Kip twice the previous year. At one point it had caused a serious strain in his friendship with Scott, but they'd worked though it. His smile faded into an inquisitive look. "So, you really came out to your folks?"

Kip's smile was wistful. "Well, first I had to come out to myself. Then I realized that if I was ever going to be fully comfortable in my own skin, I had to stop hiding." He put his hand on Glenn's forearm. "Glenn helped a lot. But the reason for hiding was the irrational fear that somebody could hurt me if they find out the truth. When you come out and admit who you are, you've disarmed them. They can't hurt me now." He drained his coffee cup. "Don't get me wrong, it's not like some folks don't try with hurtful words and shit like that. But I just consider the primitive and ignorant source of the comments and move on living my life. It's really very liberating."

The plates were empty. Kip leaned back and stretched, rubbing his tummy. His sweater wrapped his torso just right. He looked fantastic. Both Marty and Scott judged Glenn a lucky guy. "Well, gentlemen, we're going to get up early tomorrow. Weather's supposed to be nice, so I'm going to show Glenn the Arboretum with a bit of a hike before heading back to my folks' place." They split the bill four ways with a very nice tip for Gwen and then headed for the back door.

The two pairs of guys exchanged handshakes and hugs in the back lot, said their good byes and split up to head for their vehicles. They'd taken Marty's car, so he drove. After both he and Scott slammed their doors he started giggling. "Never, ever, not in a million years would I have thought that that would ever have been possible!" He looked at Scott. "You, sir, are a fucking miracle worker. Me having dinner with Christopher Ulysses Monmouth." He started the car. "I think this is one of the signs of the Apocalypse, you know."

Scott grinned in satisfaction. "Nah. You and the Almighty aren't that close. Besides, Kip's really not a bad guy these days, ya' know? He was a son of a bitch of the highest class once, but he's not anymore. Didn't you get the sense of satisfaction and serenity he was throwing out?"

Marty nodded. "In a big way. That was there in spades. And I guess you're right. He's not the motherfucker I always wanted to believe he was. Not anymore anyway. Who'da thunk it?""

"Like I said, Marty, he was. But we're all evolving all the time. Each of us is a work in progress. I don't think it ever stops."

Marty just nodded as they parked the car. They hiked down the sidewalk for a half a block to the apartment. Scott said, "Let's see, when we get up there you can either take the dog out for a pee, set up the backgammon board or make a couple of drinks. Your call."

Marty laughed. "Brett told me you can only call him `The Dog.'

"That's what he is. He's a dog. He's an adorable dog with an obscene name."

"Brett does have a point. I think it's kind of funny. Mr. Free Speech' is all bent out of shape cuz of a dog's name. There's a bar up in Wisconsin Dells called Nig's.' It's a lilly-white community that fills up with lilly-white tourists and Nig's is a local landmark. I have one of their t-shirts. Have a Swig with Nig.' Nothing racial about it."

"I know. I've been there with Big Scott. And the dog's name isn't `Nig.' Brett's just being a smart ass, as usual, which is one of the reasons I love the guy, but the dog's name is just beyond the pale. I just can't say it."

The dog met them at the top of the stairs. His tail was thumping and his eyes begged, `I gotta to go out! Now!'

Marty grabbed onto collar. "Come on boy. Uncle Scott's gonna feed you and the fattest cat, then make us a couple of drinks and set up the backgammon board so that I can give him a lesson." He led the dog down the back stairs.

Marty rolled a six to win the start of the game. Scott grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. After hitting several lame sit-coms and a couple of movies in which things were being blown up or people were being hacked to death he paused. "Oh, shit! I forgot this was on here tonight. It was "The Wizard of Oz." "I love this fucking movie!"

The evil Mrs. Gulch was dumping poor little Toto into her picnic basket, and Auntie Em' was about to give the old hag a piece of her mind. Marty rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ. Here we go."

"Dude! Best cast ever! Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, Bert Lahr, and the beautiful Judy Garland."

"Yeah, for starters." Marty rolled the dice and moved his tiles. "And don't get going on me Mr. Trivia. I already know, thanks to you, that Margaret Hamilton, the wicked witch, was the only one in the cast that treated Judy Garland with any civility, and that Buddy Ebsen was originally cast as the Tin Man, but that the silver makeup almost killed him. You're a fucking `Wizard of Oz' encyclopedia."

The house had landed on the wicked witch's sister, Glenda to Good Witch had come and gone, and Scott was humming and mumbling along with three `little people." "We represent the Lollipop Guild, the Lollipop Guild, the Lollipop Guild."

They were into their third drink after dinner and finishing a third game of backgammon. Ray Bolger had sung "If I Only Had a Brain" and fallen on his ass. Jack Haley had squeaked his way through "If I Only Had a Heart" and now Bert Lahr was growling through "If I Only Had the Nerve." Marty finished the game in a rout and grabbed Scott's wrist, and then began to sing to the same melody, although not very well.

"If we kept it just between us I would gladly suck your penis And take it in the can."

Scott choked on his last sip of his drink. Marty wiggled his brows.

"You can bend me fully over You can even call me Rover `Cuz I need some man to man."

Marty stood up and pulled him toward the hallway, reaching to shut off the lamp on his way. He did a foolish little jig as he led Scott to the bedroom, and continued singing as he danced,

"I will tell you you're Adonis Since our lust if full upon us And you know that I'm a fan I can tell from your bulging That you're ready for indulging And I need some man to man."

Scott roared. The fattest cat in the world ran under the bed.

Oh, IIIIIIIIIIIIII Won't wonder why My thighs and glutes are sore It's cuz I really was Begging for this He grabbed Scott's tool through his khakis And then some mooooooore

They got to the bedroom and Marty closed the door. Scott was still snickering and marveling as Marty unbuttoned his shirt. He was about to speak, but his buddy continued.

"You will lick me and you'll suck me And then you'll fully fuck me Completely as you can."

He grabbed Scott's biceps and pulled him close, and then kissed him hard before finishing.

"You'll forgive my helpless moaning While I love your sweaty groaning `Cuz I need some man to man."

The cat ran to the closed door and looked completely panicked. Marty giggled and cracked the door open for the fattest cat to waddle out, and then he shut it again. Scott cackled while Marty worked on his belt buckle. "My god, you're such a manipulative slut. You spent all day thinking that up,"

"Nope. And that doesn't rhyme professor. Slut' and up' don't quite rhyme. Try to keep up with me, will you? And I just made it up on the spot. I oughta be doing improv."

"Your whole life has been improv."

Marty leered. "Let's see what else I can make up to surprise you." He pushed Scott back on the bed.

Scott stirred because of the sudden sound of a door closing in the distance. Then he smelled coffee and heard soft footsteps. He squinted at the visage of Marty returning to the bedroom wearing his robe. "Jesus, nobody around here ever wakes up before I do."

Marty grinned and shrugged. "Have a baby and you'll learn what it is to be a morning person." Then he added, "And a 1 a.m. person and a 2 a.m. person and a 3 a.m. person..."

Scott yawned and sat up. "Gotcha."

Marty sat on the edge of the bed and patted Scott's thigh. "Both of the beasts have been fed, the dog has dutifully peed, the cat is cleaning his face and the coffee's on."

Scott rubbed his eyes. "Oh, that was what I heard, the back door closing when you let the dog in." He was nearly awake now. "Damn, you can come and visit any time you want."

Marty scooted up the bed and leaned against the headboard on top of the comforter. "Dude, I know I can come and visit when I want. I have a key, remember?"

Scott's cell phone went off and Marty got up to grab it off the desk. Scott looked at the clock. "Who the hell is calling at eight in the morning on a Saturday?"

Marty looked at the screen and grinned. "It's Greg." He tossed Scott the phone and said, "I'll go get the coffee." He lingered in the kitchen for a few extra minutes, scratching the dog's ears, trying to give Scott some time on the phone.

When he returned with two mugs, Scott was frowning and nodding. "Greg, relax. It's no big deal. Just e-mail the address and any directions I might need, and I'll be there. It'll be fun. I'm really looking forward to it." He paused and took the mug from Marty. "Good enough. Sounds like a plan. Take it easy, okay? I'll see you then, but I really have to go. I'll call on Monday when I'm getting close. Bye."

Marty sat back down on the bed and leaned back. "Cabin plans? Didn't you say you were making a trip up to the north woods this coming week?"

Scott slurped his coffee and nodded. "Yeah, Monday `til Thursday. The original plan was for Greg to borrow his brother's car for a few days and we were going to meet at the cabin. He called to say Jesse was suddenly being a prick...again...and had changed his mind about the car. So, I'm going to drive up to his dad's place and pick him up. The cabin's a little over an hour from there, I guess."

There was a full minute of silence, and then Scott cleared his throat. "Okay, Mr. Special Advisor. Advise me. Just what the hell are we doing here?"

Marty smiled a soft smile and wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulder. Scott accepted the embrace by leaning into it. "Oh, shit, Scotty. I don't know. I try not to think about it and just give into certain pleasures of mine from time to time," he tapped Scott's chin, "and some of yours too." He looked down and squeezed Scott's shoulder with his arm. "But I take it you are thinking about it?"

Scott pursed his lips and nodded. "I have to. I'm hanging with Greg whenever I can, but don't really know where that's headed." He sighed and looked up. "And you...well, you're..."

Marty squeezed him again. "And I'm a married man with two loving children and you're worried that you're aiding and abetting my infidelity."

Scott nodded quietly and a smile slowly crawled across his lips. "Well, when you sing and dance for me, how can I not?"

Marty slid down a little further so that their eyes were at the same level. "Scotty, I've thought about it too. I love Jill with all my heart. If it's possible, I might even love the kids a little bit more, but I doubt it. They're what I work for, what I live for. It's not that I don't love you too, but it's not the same thing."

He took a breath and scratched his chin. "But like I said, I've thought about it. I'm absolutely convinced that our friendship would be just as solid even if we kept our clothes on all the time." Then he frowned slightly. "A lot of people would condemn me to Hell for this, but I've become comfortable with the notion that the time we spent bumping and grinding last night was just another wonderfully comfortable expression of our friendship. I don't believe it really compromises or undermines my devotion to my family." He winked. "I mean, ya' know I love ya', but I'm not going to leave my wife and kids for you." Scott smiled and Marty rapped the back of his hand. "I mean, you're good, but you're not that good." Then he set his coffee mug on the bed stand and half turned onto his side. "And then there's you and Greg...?"

"Yeah. I just don't know..."

Marty took Scott's hand. "Professor, you remember the first time we `did it?'

Scott looked at the ceiling. "How could I forget?"

"But we hardly knew each other at the time. The physical stuff between us was born out of selfish, horny, lusty pleasure seeking. And it was spur of the moment."

Scott chuckled. "You practically raped me."

Marty tossed him a `fuck you' glance and gazed into his eyes. "But, Scott, the friendship emerged and grew later, and I have no doubt that it would have happened if we'd never had sex." He shrugged. "I'm lucky to have you with or without the sex. You're lucky to have me with or without the sex." He wiggled his brows. "But I'll always prefer it with the sex." They both laughed and nodded again before Marty sighed once more. "I guess that's going to have to be up to you, if or when you ever decide what's up with Greg. As for me and Jill and the kids, it's all good with me.

"You've got two issues, professor. One is you and me, and I'm trying to put that to rest. The other is you and Greg, and I can't put that to rest. If you're wondering how I figure into your other situation, and I think you are, then you're on your own. For about the first time since we've known each other, I'm not going to pretend to advise you on that one. I can live with any way you decide to handle it." He patted Scott's thigh again. "We're always going to be best friends. You're not going to be rid of me." He chuckled softly. "You'd never survive."

Author's Note: This was a fun chapter to write. I really enjoyed bringing Kip and Glenn back. If you haven't read "Strange Bedfellows," then you're out of the loop on those two. Kip was the bad guy in most of that first installment of this ongoing story. Some of you who've written expressed an attraction for him, so I thought I'd toss him back into the mix just for fun.

I'll thank Kory, Scott and Peter for their feedback and proof reading. You guys are invaluable. I wish I'd had your assistance from the beginning. I still appreciate the feedback so many of you provide. Many, many thanks to all of you who are taking to time to read and write back. I hope you're being just as generous with the other authors you are enjoying.

FYI--92" of snow so far in Madison, for those of you who keep asking. More than twice what they've had in Mpls/St. Paul, smashing the old record of just under 80". And, yeah, I made dinner for Marty, Craig and his wife and son and a few other friends last week. Life ain't bad.

But...I'm mourning Brett Favre's announced retirement.

Questions comments and complaints are gleefully received at: scotty.13411@hotmail.com

Be Well.