Internet Connection Series

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Entering our apartment, we could see the housekeeper had done a wonderful job as well. We were very pleased. Our cruise had been the best way to re-charge our batteries and we were ready to face the daily work again. Just before we shut our eyes that night, Richie thanked me again and said he owed me one. I was looking forward to what he would find to surprise me!

We were back at work again. Jessica had done a marvelous job while we were away and Richie gave her a bonus, something she appreciated immensely. Jason had finished up the project I was on before our departure for the cruise and I found an e-mail from the client thanking us profusely and congratulating us with the great job. I followed Richie's example and gave a bonus to Jason. He as well was very grateful.

Weeks and months flew by. I was a bit scared that the routine would kick in again, but it wasn't. It was not necessary to go on a cruise every month! Richie surprised me with some evenings out, being it just to go to a restaurant or going to a concert or a theatre performance. There wasn't a week that went by without one of us surprising the other with something. We were happy and we liked to share our happiness with friends. Stewart and Troy were always on the top of our list. Over the years we had learned to know each other quite well and it wasn't difficult to find ways to please them or them pleasing us. When they invited us for weekend of waterskiing we accepted gladly although neither of us had ever done it. It was a challenge as well for Richie as for me. We were in good shape thanks to our daily workout in the basement gym.

The day arrived and we picked Stewart and Troy up for the two-hour drive to a cabin Troy had inherited from his parents when they died. I punched the location in the GPS of the car and we traveled pleasantly towards the cabin and the lake. As it was a bright summer day, the roof was down and we enjoyed the warm feeling of the sun on our skins. It had taken us less than fifteen minutes to take off our T-shirts and let the sun tan our chests and faces. We had only forgotten that our seat belts would leave a tan-line across our torsos. When we reached the cabin and got out of the car we were all four sporting a white line on our chests! We laughed heartedly when we discovered it.

The following day Troy did what he had to do to get the boat ready and to get us prepared for our first water-skiing lesson. When you see people doing it, it all seems so easy and simple, but when you have to do it yourself it is a total different matter. Fortunately as well Troy as Stewart were very patient with us and before the end of the day Richie and I managed to stay on our skis at a decent speed. Richie liked it but not as much as I did. The second day he learned to pilot the boat and that was more to his liking than the actual skiing. Troy showed him how he had to speed up the boat the right way and Richie was actually very soon doing it better than Troy himself. He was that good at it that soon he could manage the boat alone and Stewart, Troy and I were on our skis while Richie increased the speed. As we were skiing bear chested, the tan line of the car seat belts quickly disappeared. As usual I got redder than tanned, but with the appropriate sun cream it was not too bad. As it was just a weekend, we were already preparing to drive back to the city, when Richie's cell phone caught his attention. He picked it up although it was an unknown number to him.

While he was on the phone we continued packing our stuff and loading the car. When he was finished, he came to us and had a very strange look on his face, as if he had just seen a ghost. I asked him immediately what was going on.

• You won't believe me, he said, it was the general hospital of Montreal. They asked me if I knew Peter Summer.

• Who the hell is Peter Summer, I asked.

• Peter Summer is my father. He left my mother when she was pregnant of me and that's why I have my mother's surname. It seems he is quite ill and won't survive too long. It seems he asked for me.

Richie had never talked about his father and I didn't want to be nosy, so I never asked about him either. We had weekly lunch with his Mum, but she didn't talk about him either. I had always guessed there was a story about him, but being discreet, I never walked that path.

The first thing Richie did was calling his Mum. They were in a serious conversation while we waited by the car to start our drive back to town. The joyful mood had clearly disappeared, as we understood it was a dilemma for Richie. Going to Montreal or not. The turmoil he was in after talking to his Mum was evident. His Mum had never talked about his father in the past. The only information she had given him was that his father left when she was pregnant. She never volunteered to give more details about the man, except that his name was Peter Summer, and Englishman.

It seemed the Englishman had stayed in Canada after leaving the woman he had made pregnant. Richie had never had the desire to know his real father. He had been brought up by his Mum and had had a very good childhood. His Mum had cared for him and seen to all his necessities. She had been wonderful all these years. Now, on the phone, she had left him the choice to go or not. She said he was an adult and that he made his own decisions since quite some years. He didn't need her to tell him whether to go to Montreal or not. She didn't say yes or no. She left it completely up to him and didn't want to interfere. Richie had silently hoped she would be more categorical or giving him an advice.

During the two-hour drive back to the city, Richie didn't say a word. I knew him well enough to leave him alone when he was that deep in thoughts. When he was ready he would speak and express his feelings and thoughts.

The nurse had not told him a lot. She had just checked if he was indeed the Richard she was looking for and then switched the call through to the doctor, who was an oncologist. Richie had not to ask what was going on with his father when he heard the doctor was specialized in cancer. The doctor had just told him that his father had not a long time left and had asked to see him.

We reached the apartment after dropping off Stewart and Troy. I promised them to keep them updated. Richie let himself fall into the chair and looked devastated. I could understand his confusion. After all, his father was a total stranger to him. He hadn't even seen him once in his entire life. He couldn't think of one reason why his father, who was about to leave this world, wanted to see him now. I served us two strong drinks and handed one to Richie. He emptied half the glass in one gulp. He cleared his throat and started to express what was going on in his head and in his heart. He wasn't afraid to tell he was confused and didn't know what to do. He feared that if he didn't go to Montreal he would regret it the rest of his life. On the other hand he wondered why he should go and see a man he didn't even know.

I looked at my watch and saw it was two pm. If we left right now we would be there around seven and, depending on the events, being back around midnight, one o'clock at the latest. I guessed there wouldn't be a lot to say, as they were both strangers to each other. I felt Richie wanted to go although he was not sure of the out-come. I used my strongest voice and said to Richie to gather his things. We were going. In less than five minutes we were in his car, but I did the driving. I didn't want him to have to drive when his mind was not on it at all.

The five-hour drive was uneventful. I followed the instructions of the GPS and we reached the general hospital without the slightest problem. Once the car was parked I asked Richie if he wanted to go alone, but he insisted I go with him. We followed the signs and reached the floor where his father was supposed to be. We got to the nurse station and showed our ID's to prove whom we were. She indicated the door of his father's room and said she would warn the doctor of our arrival. Standing in front of that closed door, Richie hesitated for a moment. I put my finger under his chin and made him look at me. I told him everything was going to be all right and gave him a little kiss on his lips.

He knocked on the door and went in without waiting for an answer.

There was only one bed in the room. The man lying in the bed was his father; there was not a single doubt about it. They actually looked alike except that his father had a very tired expression on his face. But the form of the head, the eyes, the nose, everything was so alike. They had the same eyes but the sparkle in Richie's eyes was absent in his father's. It was understandable as the doctors said he would not live long anymore. Next to the bed stood another man, about the same age, holding his father's hand. That man looked devastated but showed a smile nonetheless. It was that man who spoke first.

• You must be Richard. There is no doubt about that. Your father has been waiting for you. I'll leave you alone for a few minutes.

And then he walked out.

Richie approached the bed and looked at that stranger who said he was his father, but he had no doubt about it as he could almost see himself in the mirror but in an older version. The monitor next to the bed beeped slowly. When Richie touched his father's hand, as he didn't know what else to do, his father opened his eyes and weakly smiled at him.

• At last, he said.

And he closed his eyes again. He squeezed Richie's hand and we could hear the beep of the monitor slow down even more, till we looked at the screen and there was only a flat line and a continuous beep. The grip on his son's hand went completely away. His father was gone.

A nurse came in almost immediately, checked a few things and then, switched of the monitor. The sudden silent was deafening. She looked at her watch and made a few notes on a chart. The man who had been holding Richie's father's hand came back in and presented his condolences.

The doctor came in and shook our hands.

• I am glad for him that it is all over. He was in a lot of pain and suffered far more than any human being should. He is in peace now.

The doctor left the room. The other man came over. He was crying. Despite of his tears he tried to have the best composure possible.

• Peter was waiting for you. He has talked about you so many times, but he was too stubborn to contact you. He has followed your life during all these years, but didn't want to disturb your life. He was so proud of you when you graduated law school. I told him to let you know how proud he was, but he refused. But I forget my good manners. Let me introduce myself: I am Mark, Mark Tudor. I was your father's life partner. We've been together over twenty years.

Richie was flabbergasted with that small amount of news. First, he met his father who died the minute he met him. Then he learned his father had been following his life and on top of that he received the news his father was gay. Quite a lot of news in a few minutes time.

Mark went into his inside pocket and got an envelope out of it. He handed it to Richie.

• Your father wrote you a letter not later than last week. It is my handwriting as he was to weak to write it himself, but I can assure you I wrote the words he told me. He said that f you came you had to receive it the day he died. There is a second one, which is addressed to your mother.

And he handed Richie a second letter.

• Are you driving back to Toronto tonight? Or would you prefer to stay at our house till the funeral? You are most welcome to stay. After the funeral there will the reading of his will. I don't know what it contains as he made his will several months ago and deposited at the notary, but he mentioned that you were included.

I looked at Richie to know if he wanted to stay or not, but his eyes were pleading to take him away from that hospital bed first. He just kissed his father's forehead and we left the room. He put the letter for his mother in his pocket but kept his in his hands, holding on to it as if it was the most precious thing he owned in his life.

We exchanged phone numbers with Mark and told him we would be back for the funeral. We thanked him for the invitation to stay at their place, but we preferred to go back to Toronto immediately. We would sure want to see the place he had lived for over twenty years with Mark, but it would have to wait for another time. Richie's emotions were already confused enough for the moment.

The whole way back to Toronto, Richie held on to the letter. I knew he wanted to read it right then, but he was also a little apprehensive about the contents. I didn't pressure him. He would need his time to open that envelope and read what was inside.

It was only when we were back home that he sat in front of the fireplace and opened the envelope.

Dear Richard,

I don't know how to start this, except by saying I am sorry. Sorry for abandoning you even before you were born. As you read this letter it means you have met Mark. He has been the love of my life and has supported me all these years. He always insisted that I meet you, even before I got sick. I was too stubborn to accept he was right and I missed you all my life.

When your mother announced that she was pregnant, I was scared. Scared to death, as I knew I was gay and couldn't see myself in the married life. I would have made your mother unhappy and automatically you would have been unhappy, too. But that is not an excuse. It is just an explanation. I was a coward and left. Once again, sorry for that!

Despite my leaving, I followed your life very closely. More than once I was looking at you while you played at school. More than once I followed you when you were going out with friends. I was even hidden away, but present, at your graduation at law school. You can't imagine how proud I was of you, and still am. I can only blame myself for all the mistakes I made. I can't even ask for your forgiveness as leaving you was totally unforgivable. I only hope you will not hold it all against me.

When I discovered you were gay, I selfishly thought you had at least one of my genes. I was a bit worried though, as you didn't seem to find the person to share your life with, till the arrival of Fred. Yes, I know about him, too. I peeked in at your wedding and saw you dance with him. I would have loved to be there and be able to dance with you as well. That is probably another of my genes you have. Ask Mark. He will confirm it to you.

The show you gave on the cruise was fabulous. You probably wonder how I know about that. It's easy: Mark is the captain's son. You can't believe how much the captain admired you and appreciated you. He is really looking forward to have you on one of his cruises again.

But now, my son, I am gone. The illness took all of my strength away. I just hope I will see you before I give my last breath. Once again, sorry for my mistakes.

Be happy with Fred. If you need anything at all, contact Mark. He's the best man someone can have in his life.

I love you,

Dad.

When Richie had read the letter three of four times, the tears were flowing freely. He received a letter from someone he had never met in his life and despite of that, his heart was hurting and bleeding. He started to blame himself for not trying to find and contact his Dad. Why on earth had he never tried to know who his father was? Why had he not felt the interest of finding him? He had lived at only five hundred miles all these years. They could have been more than father and son. They could have been friends. But now it was too late. The only thing he could do to learn a bit more about his father was to stay in contact with Mark and make him talk about him.

The following days Richie was not himself. The grieve he felt was getting to him. He met with his Mum and gave her the letter that was addressed to her. Impulsively, she tried to tear it to pieces without even reading it, but he convinced her no to do so. He told her about the letter he had received and urged her to read hers as well. It was a message from the beyond as Peter was dead now. She agreed and tried to keep indifferent to what was written on the white paper. Richie had read his letter and if the letter his mother was holding in her hands was in the same style of his, she would not be indifferent a very long time. Indeed, after what seemed only a few seconds, or a few sentences, her eyes got moist. Before she ended reading, the tears were flowing just as freely as Richie's had. When she finished reading, she carefully folded the letter and put it in her purse

• I am sorry Richie. I have not been what you could expect of me. I should have given you more information and insisted you met him. He was a good man, but just like him I was too stubborn to admit that I, as well, had made a mistake. I knew he was gay before I went to bed with him. I hoped I could change him, but that was asking too much. I was angry with him when he left and, in fact, I should have been angry with myself. I am so sorry Richie.

Mother and son fell into each other's arms. They hugged and cried. If Peter had been there they would have been three people hugging and crying.

The funeral was a simple and humble ceremony, although the place was packed with people. It seemed Peter had a lot of friends. After the cremation, Mark invited us to their house. It was a beautiful house filled with art and music instruments. It seemed Peter was a very good musician and had even written a complete musical about two gays in love. It had never been performed. While we were having coffee in the living room, Mark brought in a box saying it was Richie's.

• Here you have all the pictures Peter took of you, the letters he wrote to you but never sent. You will also find all the birthday cards and Christmas greetings he never sent. There are also some gifts he bought for you, but never gave to you. He made me promise you would get it all.

Richie looked at the box and just like the letter he had received, he couldn't open it immediately. He knew he would be confronted with things of the past that related him to his father he had never known, not even talked to. He said he would look at it later, when he was ready for it. He immediately took it to the car and put it in the boot. Mark announced we had to be at the notary an hour later, but due to traffic we'd better get on our way. We all got into what was Peter's car and Mark drove us to the notary's office.

We were introduced and sat down in front of a large wooden desk covered with files and papers. The reading of the will was simple and quite clear. Mark inherited the house and all it's belongings as well as the cars and their joined bank account. Richie's Mum received a nice amount of money as an "apology" for having to face all the burdens of life by herself. Richie inherited Peter's company and I was to be to co-owner of that as well. Mark was happy with the settlement as well as Richie's Mum. The only ones who didn't really know the extend of what they got, were Richie and I as we had no idea what his father's business was. We were asked to sign a bunch of papers and after Richie, as a good lawyer, had checked out everything he nodded as if to say it was all right to sign.

We had not been in more than an hour. When we came out we asked Mark to give us at least some information about Peter's business. He sighed.

• Your father's business is one of the biggest distribution companies of this country. Our direct competitors are UPS and DHL. There are about twenty-five thousand employees all over the world. The fleet of trucks is enormous. There are several planes and even some boats that operate from the main office. The company is worth over two billion dollars. I made it clear to Peter I had absolutely no intention of running it as I have not the skills he had. He said you, Richard, would have the knowledge to do so and if you were not interested, the competition would be more than glad to buy it so they could expand. It will be up to you two to decide, as you are now official co-owners.

Richie's color in his face disappeared completely and he was as white as a ghost. I was probably as pale as he was. Although we had worked with very rich people, two billion seemed too much for us to assimilate. Neither Richie nor I had the skills or the knowledge to run such a huge company. We would have to think very seriously about it all. For my part, I would gladly sell it to the highest offer of the competitors, but I had to wait to see what Richie thought about it. We decided to go back home and let it all rest for a while.

On the way back to Toronto, we were all three quite in the car. We were deep in thoughts. I knew Richie was quite pragmatic and would soon come up with what he thought was the best solution. I would, of course, support him in whatever decision he made, but knew straight away I would not want to be one of the CEO's of the company. I was happy with what I was doing as a job. I am a very good graphic designer but probably would suck as a CEO.

The following day Richie contacted the person Mark had said was the person in charge since Peter's illness, Mr. Levi. He had a long talk over the phone with Mr. Levi who seemed to know exactly what to do in that company. Richie told me everything that had been said over the phone and that as co- owners we had to back to Montreal to meet the board of directors.

• There are actually only two possibilities for us Fred: or we sell the company or we keep it and leave Mr. Levi as CEO. I don't want to run that company myself and I doubt very much you want to do it either.

• You're right, I said, I am not interested and have not the capability of running it.

• Ok, we reached a first common point on that one. So, what do you think about the possibilities I pointed out?

• I think that we could approach Mr. Levi and ask if he is personally interested in buying the company as he runs it now for almost a year and a half. If he is, I guess we would have to work a financial plan as I doubt he can come up with two billions just like that. If he isn't interested, or can't afford it, we can approach the two or three biggest competitors and see with what kind of offer they come to us. Keeping the company and leave it in the good hands of Mr. Levi is not a bad idea, but I don't think it is the best, as we would continually worry about how things are going.

• Let me call him on his private line and see what his reaction is.

Less than five minutes later, Richie came back and told me Mr. Levi's opinion.

• He would, of course, prefer us to keep the company and let him run it. He said immediately that he had not the necessary funds to buy it on his own, but could probably find the necessary investors to do so. He wants us to wait another week before making any decision in that sense. He also mentioned that there were already contacts made by two competitors who just wanted to know what the future of the company holds in. He said he made an appointment with both of them, but would postpone them till after the final decision we take.

That week seemed to never end. We drove once again to Montreal and stayed at Mark's house. We exposed the situation to him and he agreed that Mr. Levi was certainly the person in the best position to help us out. He offered to go with us to meet that gentleman and help with the negotiations. We gladly accepted his generous offer.

Before we met the board of directors we had a meeting with Mr. Levi. He was a man of about sixty years of age but in an incredible good shape and very energetic. We could easily understand why Peter had put his trust in him. We were soon on first name basis as he asked us to call him Jonathan.

• I won't go around the bush, he said. I can't come up with two billion dollars just like that. I have found a few investors, but even with their help we don't reach the necessary funds to buy it over from you guys. But, as I guess, you will want to invest part of the money with the sale of this company, I would suggest you think about this: what would you think about being shareholders of this company? I can come up with seventy-five percent of the money. You would keep twenty-five percent of it and, if you want, you can be silent partners. Every year you would receive twenty-five percent of the benefits the company makes. I would understand if you prefer to sell it completely and then we would have to see the offers of the competitors. However, there is a chance they won't offer the two billion. They will probably offer less. All depends on you.

Richie and I looked at each other and without even having to say a word we agreed on Jonathan's offer to invest twenty-five percent and sell the other seventy-five percent to Jonathan. We didn't have to think about it. We knew from all the figures we had received that the company was making good money and that each year the benefits were higher and higher.

We went into the boardroom and faced the important people of the company. Up till now there was only one owner. Today we were two but it was already decided that Jonathan would become the new owner together with his financial partners, us included. When the directors heard the decision that had been made, they applauded it with enthusiasm. It would take several weeks and even month to have all the papers ready and signed, but the board elected with unanimity the presidency of Jonathan at the head of the company. It was most likely the shortest board meeting they had ever had.

Two months later we were once again in Montreal. Richie had had quite a lot of work to come up with the perfect contract, but he had. The boardroom was this time filled with Jonathan and us, but also the financial partners of Jonathan. The signature of the contract was over within five minutes after its reading. The very next day, Richie's and my bank account s had increased with each seven hundred and fifty million dollars and we still each owned shares of the company for each hundred and twenty five million dollars. We could clearly state we were financially secured.

It was a very strange sensation to have all that money. We had never to complain in the past as we both had good incomes with our jobs, but this was different. From one day to the other we could live without doing anything if it pleased us. We could travel the world without being concerned of the work that was pending. All this, thanks to a man we had never known.

No sex in this chapter, but the installment for the futureÉ All comments welcome on amahy1957@gmail.com