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CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Oh, Tim!" Brett gasped and folded into Tim's arms, sobbing. "I'm so sorry..."
"What's wrong?" Tim whispered, stroking Brett's back as he hugged him close. "I can't help you unless I know what's going on. Let's go into the living room and you tell me all about it. C'mon..." Tim steered Brett toward the living room still thinking Brett was going to drop him. "I'll go get some Kleenex and a glass of water. You pull yourself together and when I get back you talk and I'll listen."
Tim went to the kitchen, got a tall glass of ice water, Kleenexes from the pantry, and stuck his head out the sliding door that went to the patio. "Hey, mom, dad! Go on ahead without us. We'll be out in a few minutes!" Returning, Tim put the water down on a coaster on the end table and placed the Kleenex box with easy reach for Brett. "OK, Brett, tell me what's going on here. I'm going to just listen now."
"Tim, this is really bad! My...dad...and...I...got in a...huge...fight tonight. He says I can't...see...you...any more. He took my phone away, too! I got pissed off and ran out and came over here. I...didn't...know...where...else...to...go. I'm so sorry, Tim. I just... I..."
Tim audibly gasped with relief that Brett was not breaking up with him, sat down next to Brett on the sofa and pulled him in to a comforting hug. "My God! I thought from the look on your face that you were gonna break up with me! I'd have rather died, Brett. Anyway, this might look bad now, but it'll all work out. I'm not going anywhere and I don't give a fuck what anyone says. Your dad's not the boss of me. You're here now, and I'm here for you. That's part of the job description. I have an idea..."
"What?" Brett croaked out. "You thought I was gonna ditch you? Oh my God!"
"I didn't know what to think by the look on your face, but first things first. Let's dry your eyes, and you go splash some cold water on your face so ya don't look like a total dork. Then we're gonna go out on the patio with the others and get you some dinner. Once everyone leaves we're gonna sit down just you and me and mom and dad and we're gonna figure this shit out. Mom and dad will know what's the right thing to do. But for now, you're here, and that's all that matters."
"OK, it beats sitting here bawling my eyes out. That won't solve anything I guess. Thanks. And I will never break up with you. You're stuck with me forever. Thanks for being here for me. I'll get through this, Tim."
"No, WE will get through this. We're in this together." And with that, Tim turned Brett's sad face to his own and planted a sweet, tender lover's kiss on his lips. Tim held Brett close for a few seconds, and whispered in his ear, "OK, time's up! Let's roll!"
"Right. I'll be fine..."
The two boys made it back to the patio. Brett was warmly greeted by George and Peggy. Andy said hello, and introduced Brett to Joe. "Hey, Brett, this is our dad, Joe Wyman. Dad, this is Brett Dowling. He's a friend of ours. He's gonna be a Senior this year with Tim."
"Good to meet you, Brett. Please call me Joe. Any friend of my boys is a friend of mine!"
"Nice to meet you, Joe, and thanks!" Brett said, shaking Joe's hand and appearing to have regained at least enough of his usual bearing so that he was pretty sure no one suspected anything, although missing George eyeballing Tim and Tim mouthing `later.'
"OK, now, Brett, you just sit right down and I'll getcha a plate and some silverware! You look starved! We got plenty of food, now, so don't be shy about it! I'll getcha a beer, too!" Peggy said.
"Say, Brett, your last name's Dowling? Any chance your dad works down the plant?" Joe asked.
"Yes, he works there. He's a Foreman." Brett answered.
"Good to know!" Joe replied.
"Well, here ya go there now, Brett. Here's a plate, silverware and a beer for ya! Eat up now! I like seeing you boys eat!" Peg said. Brett thought how lucky the other boys were, but instead of feeling bad for himself, he drew strength from the company on the Dickson patio.
Joe interjected, "Well, this seems to be a good time for this, so I brought a little something for us to celebrate the end of Tim and Sean's competition. Sean, let's have the flutes!" Joe proceeded to fill the flutes with the Dom Perignon, and all were passed one. "Sean, I think it's right that you make the toast! Go ahead, son..."
Sean arose, and raised his flute in Tim's direction. "Dix, I said it before and I'll say it again. Congratulations, man. I'll have your back in every second of every minute of every game. And thanks for your friendship, too. It means the world to me. Here's to Tim!"
George nodded at Tim who then stood facing Sean. "Wymo, you've had my back from the day you came to town. I owe you more than you know. Thanks, man, and I wouldn't be here without you! Here's mud in your eye, dude! Down the hatch, everyone!"
All raised their flutes, clinked them together and downed their toasts. Periodically Tim looked over at Brett to see how he was holding up and determined that Brett seemed to be doing fine, noting that Brett held his own in conversation, wolfed down two burgers and ate a healthy amount of Peggy's potato salad. Tim was amazed at his lover's inner strength, and how he truly hit the jackpot with the tall, lanky blonde boy. He could feel his love for Brett, already strong, grow and strengthen even more. Tim promised himself he'd not see Brett hurt out of this, although just exactly what `this' was remained to be seen entirely. Tim so badly wanted to make Brett feel better by letting him know he made the team. Heeding Coach Slater's order, Tim dared not breathe a word of it.
The dinner wound down, desert had been served, and the Dicksons' guests were ready to take their leave. "George, Peggy, thanks for having us over," Joe said. "We'll have you guys over real soon once we move into the Alamo which should start next week. The interior is finished, and the security is in. Plan on a couple weeks, or so! And, Brett, we'd like to see you there as well. It was a pleasure to meet you tonight!"
"You, too, Joe! And thanks!" Brett said, extending his hand to shake Joe's.
"Joe, boys, I'll walk you out..." George said as the group proceeded to the front door. "Thanks for coming, and Joe, I'll see you Saturday at the Club for golf!"
"You got it George, and thanks again!"
"Bye, George!" Sean and Andy called out in unison.
Closing the door behind his guests, George called out, "OK, everyone, let's go in the living room and talk here..."
Everyone trooped into the living room and took a seat.
"Son," George said looking over at Brett, "We consider you part of our family now, and if you are in some kind of a pickle, please let us know. If not, that's fine and I'm sorry I asked, but Tim seems to think that all's not well. Any truth to that?"
"Y-yes. There...is" Brett stuttered out.
"Go on, now, Brett. You tell us all about it and we'll just listen to ya. That's what we're here for." Peggy said, patting Brett on the hand.
"OK, well, here goes. After practice today I went home, then I went by work to pick up my paycheck. I left my phone at home because I didn't think I'd need it with me. When I got back, I'd got a text from Tim. That would have been fine except that when the phone flashed after the text came in it must have been somewhere that my dad could see it. Tim's text just said that they'd met with Coach after practice, which I already knew, but the text also said, sorry Tim but I have to be honest, it said `luv u xxxooo.' Well, my dad knew it was from Tim because Tim's in my contacts and it said it was him and had his picture. So my dad read through previous texts that we'd sent and then he knew that Tim and I are dating, or a couple or however you want to think about it. I didn't know that until I got back home with my check."
"I see," George said in his normal way. "Had you told either one, or both of your parents that you and Tim were dating, or was this the first they heard of it?"
"It was the first they heard of it."
"What happened next?"
"Well, my dad pretty much hit the ceiling. He said, and this is pretty much a direct quote, that he wasn't going to have his son be a Goddamn Queer, that I better change back right now, that I was grounded except for school, practice, any games I might play in and work, that I had no car privileges, that he was keeping my phone and that I was never to see Tim again, or speak to him. Even at school."
"Were you physically threatened in any way?"
"No. I was sent to my room and told not to come out until it was time for school tomorrow."
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Peggy exclaimed. "Where was your mom when this was going on?"
"Mom stood in the background and didn't say a word. Not one word. She didn't look happy, but she didn't say anything one way, or the other."
"Did you say anything back to your mom, or dad?" George asked.
"Um, yeah... I said that I had no control over if I was gay, or not, and that it's who I am. I said I would have told them already except I knew they'd act like this so I planned to wait until I turned 18. I also told them that I love Tim, and that I'd continue to see him and speak to him and it didn't matter if I was grounded. I reminded them that I'm an A student and never had been in trouble for anything. Besides, I have enough money in the bank to buy my own damn phone if I want. Then I went to my room. I got pissed off, opened the window, crawled out, and walked over here. I didn't have anywhere else to go! I don't know if they even know that I'm gone. Please don't make me go back there tonight... I don't think I did anything wrong!"
"OK, now, Brett, you listen to me!" Peggy said. "I raised three boys, and you're no different. No, I don't think you did anything wrong, and no we're not sending you home tonight, are we George!"
"Peg, you know I'm not going to argue with you here."
"Good! Now then, I do think we need to let your parents know where you are, that you are safe, have had dinner, and that you will be here at least for tonight. I don't think it'd be right not to let them know. Now, here's how we're gonna do that: does your mother have her own cell phone?"
"Um, yeah..."
"Does she text?"
"Yes."
"OK, well, you gimme her number, and I'm gonna text her right now. If any calls come to the house here tonight, I'll take them and nobody else."
"OK, but I just remembered I don't have any clothes for school tomorrow..."
"Um, Brett..." Tim cut in. "You and I are pretty much the same size. You can pick some stuff out from my clothes and you should be fine."
"Boys," George said, "you will sleep in separate rooms tonight. I have my reasons for applying that condition here, and it's just going to have to be what it is. Got me?"
"OK..." Both boys replied somewhat skeptically.
"Boys, it's because this is a potentially delicate situation and Peggy and I cannot run the risk that you guys sleep together and have anyone else then be able to make an allegation that we're opening our house to teenagers to use as a place to have sex. I remind you that, if only barely, you're still both minors. Sorry, guys, but that's just how it's gonna go."
"OK, I'm gonna text your mom now, hun." Peggy said. The text simply said, "This is Peggy Dickson, Tim's mom. Brett is at our house. He'll be here tonight. We'll make sure he gets to school tomorrow. He's had dinner and seems to be OK other than being a little upset. Mom-to-mom, he'll be fine."
Minutes later, Peggy's cell phone rang. Peggy answered.
"Yes, this is Peggy Dickson..."
"Hello, Peggy. This is Marilyn Dowling. I'm sorry that you're being inconvenienced tonight."
"Marilyn, it's no inconvenience at all! These things happen sometimes with teenagers. I raised three sons, don'tcha know, and by golly sometimes it just comes with the territory. I wantcha to know that your son is a good boy."
"My husband says he wants him back home right now."
"Well, you betcha he does now, doesn't he. And I'd like to be the Queen of England, too, but neither one of those things is gonna happen. Not tonight. Mom-to-mom, your son and your husband need some time apart to cool down or it's all gonna go downhill. All that's going to happen if Brett goes home now is that there'll be another fight, they'll both act bullheaded because that's how men are, and it won't solve anything... Brett is safe over here. God knows what might have happened if he was out on the streets by himself all night! And I'll tell ya, my husband George and me, we love Brett. We have an extra room for him, Timmy can loan him some clothes, and he'll be fine. In the morning we'll get him breakfast and he can walk to school – we're only a couple blocks away."
"I know you're right. I'll have my hands full convincing my husband of that I tell ya!"
"Well, Marilyn, sometimes that's a woman's job to get our men to stop acting like little boys, hey? Like I said, I raised three boys, and to some extent I raised a husband, too. It was never a dull moment lemme tell ya!"
"Thank you, Peggy. You're a voice of reason. Say, I know you're at Marshall. Can I come see you once classes are over tomorrow?"
"Oh, anytime! If you want to come at 3:30 that'd be good. Just come by the office and they'll tell ya where to find me! I'll let them know to expect you."
"Thanks, that'd be nice. I think we have a lot to talk about..."
"OK, and good luck with that husband of yours! Just remind him that Brett is a good boy! I remember when I had him at Marshall he was an A student, and he always applied himself well. I don't see that's changed any. They all grow up, Marilyn, and all we can do when they get to be this age is stand back and watch. Be proud of him!"
"I am..." Marilyn said, Peggy detecting a slight sniffle on the other end of the line.
"OK, well, I'll letcha go now, Marilyn. I'll get your boy to bed now, and we'll see if we can't sort through the crud here tomorrow afternoon. Until then we all just need to take a breather and let the air clear."
"Thanks, and thanks for talking to me, Peggy!"
"Oh, anytime now! G'nite!"
"Bye!"
Marilyn Dowling turned and faced her husband. "Brett is staying at the Dickson's tonight. Apparently, when he was sent to his room he got mad, crawled out the window and walked over there. He's had dinner, and they have a spare room for him for tonight."
"I don't give a shit! I want his ass home tonight, right now!" Herb Dowling grumbled.
"I bet ya do, Herb, and I'd like to the Queen of England, too," Marilyn was never one to waste a good phrase, "but that's not gonna happen tonight. You listen to me, and you listen good. If you open your mouth one more time on this subject, I'll be staying in a hotel tonight. Enough is enough. He's our son, for Christ's sake! I brought him into this world, and I won't turn my back on him!"
"Marilyn, I want that boy home! I don't want him running around with that Queer Dickson kid! It's disgusting and I don't give a damn!"
"I warned you not to open your mouth, Herb, butcha did. I'm going to a hotel."
"You're not going anywhere, Marilyn..."
"Watch me. And don't call me tonight because I won't answer the phone. We're all gonna cool off here for a little while. That's the best thing to do. I'll see you tomorrow, Herb. You just better think hard or you might find yourself without a son and without a wife... Twenty, thirty years from now you'll be an old man and sorry for what you did. You'll be wondering where Brett is and what he's doing, and when the phone doesn't ring you'll know it's him. Nobody wants that. Now, grab yourself a beer and think about it."
With that, Marilyn packed a few things in to an overnight bag, walked out of the house, tore out of the driveway and drove to a hotel downtown near her work. In her heart Marilyn knew she was doing the right thing, but she wondered if, and if so when, her husband would come around. She had meant what she said. She would do her best to bring her husband around, but had also decided that if that turned out to be impossible, she would stand behind her son.
Back at the Dickson home, Brett and Tim were in the kitchen. "Hey, Tim?" Brett asked.
"What?"
"I hope I didn't wreck your night. I mean, your mom and dad are so understanding. I just don't want to cause any trouble... I feel like some kind of a loser..."
Tim turned around and put his hands on Brett's shoulders. "Don't you ever say that, Brett! Don't you ever say that again! Like I said, WE are going to get through this. I'll win your dad over eventually. I always win `em over. And remember back that night we had our first date you said that when you came out you didn't think your parents would take it well, so other than timing this whole thing isn't a total surprise. I guess it could have been worse if you think about it. Anyway, fuck it, we have each other. You were here for me when I needed you, and now it's my turn. I'm here for you, and I ain't goin' anywhere!" Tim leaned in and kissed Brett gently. Both boys felt stirring in their loins.
"Hey, Tim, we better stop before we can't. You heard what your dad said..."
"I know. There's always tomorrow..."
"Speaking of tomorrow, do you think I made the team? Even second string would be OK. I gave it everything I had."
"I know you gave it your all. We'll just have to see in the morning. It's all up to Coach, but I've been around the block a few times in sports, and if I had to bet ten bucks, I'd bet you made the team. From what I saw, you were good enough, so let's sleep on it and see what tomorrow brings. And no matter what it brings, I'm damn fucking proud of you!" Tim did not feel in having said what he said that he'd broken Coach's order. He told himself that he'd simply offered an opinion after being asked for one.
"I love you, Tim!" Brett said, hugging his boy and kissing him back.
"I love you more!" Tim replied.
"G'night, you!" Brett said, playfully punching Tim in the shoulder and flashing his klieg-light smile.
The next morning Joe Wyman strolled into his office at the GM plant. "Morning, Margaret!" Joe called out to his secretary. Margaret Drummond had been the secretary to every plant manager at Janesville Assembly since 1970. She was a tough old broad, and she was a pro.
"Morning, Joe!" Margaret called back. "Coffee's on if ya need a cup. I'll be right in with the emails that came in overnight!" Margaret knew that Joe preferred all of his emails to be printed out so he could read them and make notes on them before responding. He liked to get this out of the way first thing in the morning so all of his responses would be there right away for the higher-ups.
"Thanks, Margaret. Look, I'm gonna take about an hour responding to these. After that, I'll need about a half hour for other stuff. What time is my first appointment today?"
"First appointment is 11:00. It's an interview for General Foreman. Here's the employee file."
"Thanks, Margaret."
Joe read all his emails, fired off all his replies and filed the emails away by subject. He was a big believer in paper trails. Returning to his desk, he took out his cell phone and dialed the company he used for all his residential, electronics, and vehicle security.
"Good morning! Great Lakes Security!" the voice on the other end of the phone said.
"Yes, this is Joe Wyman. Can I speak to Charlie Ditmar?"
"One moment!'
"Ditmar here!"
"Hey, Chaz, Joe Wyman. How the hell are ya!"
"Joe! Great, man! What can I do for ya!"
"OK, look, I got a situation here..." Joe proceeded to tell Charlie the story of Juan, and ask that it be looked into.
"Sure thing, George! I can have it done for ya in about an hour. I got both names, the real and the alias. Year of birth, and that it's California. I'll run it and get back to you. Yeah, I can get his school records, too, at least from Parker High. If all that looks good we probably won't need to go farther than that..."
"Thanks, Chaz. Send me the bill. Call me back on this number once ya know, OK?"
"OK, see ya, Joe! Have a good one!"
"You, too, Chaz!"
Joe put his cell phone back in his pocket and picked up the employee record folder for his General Foreman interview. The First Shift General Foreman was about to retire, and Joe would need a replacement. Even though Janesville Assembly was now a non-union plant, Joe decided that he'd promote one of the existing shop foremen into the position. He didn't feel the need to ruffle feathers over a promotion that in prior days would have been done by seniority anyway, so he compromised. He'd interview all the current shop foremen and pick his man. Joe noticed the name on the folder was Herbert Dowling. Checking the basic information, he noted that Dowling was 43 years old, and would be about the right age to be Brett's dad. Joe made a mental note to ask should the opportunity arise to do so.
"Joe, your 11:00 appointment is here!" Margaret called out.
"Show him in then..." Joe replied.
"Mr. Dowling, come right in. I'm Joe Wyman. Please call me Joe. Have a seat!"
"Herb Dowling. Pleasure to meet you, Joe." Herb reached out to shake Joe's hand.
"Well, Herb, as you know the first shift General Foreman is retiring in eight weeks. I've gotta find their replacement. Just to be fair to everyone, I'm letting everyone know that I'm interviewing all the current Foremen and once that's done I'll make a decision. The job comes with more responsibilities, and there will be a $9 an hour pay differential. Every man that interviews for the job and doesn't get it in the end will get a $1,000 interview bonus and three extra paid vacation days this year. I have the discretion on that, and I believe in rewarding people. OK, let's get started. I see you've been a Foreman for a while, and your record is spotless. Tell me what in your opinion we've got as our mission here..."
The interview progressed and after about 45 minutes Joe was ready to wind it up. "We're pretty much done here, Herb. Say, by the way, I've got two sons who are Juniors at Craig this year. One of their friends is Brett Dowling. You happen to be Brett's dad?"
Herb looked up with a start not knowing what to expect, but he thought he better be honest. "Yes, Brett's my son. Small world, I guess..."
"Sure is. Well, I guess we're finished here for now. Put `er there, Herb!" Joe reached out to shake Herb's hand.
"Say, Joe, you mind if we talk about something? I don't mean now; I mean like maybe after work, or something if that's OK. It has to do with Brett. I think I need another dad's advice. That is, if you have the time and you don't mind..."
"Sure! Look, what time does your shift end?"
"3:30."
"OK, let's meet tomorrow then. I'll make sure I'm done by 3:30, too. If it's a private matter, then I suggest we meet at 4:00 out at the Country Club. I'm a member. No problem. That work for ya?"
"That works. I'll see you tomorrow at 4:00, then. I appreciate it. Thank you for the interview, Joe."
"Thanks, Herb, I'll reserve a room for us at the Club where we can talk privately."
"Margaret, can you call the Country Club and reserve the small room off the bar for me at 4:00 tomorrow afternoon? I'll be having a meeting there. We won't be dining, just the room."
"Sure thing. Do you have guest names for me to give them?"
"No, that's OK. I'll let them know once I get there. You know how it goes..." Joe chuckled.
"You got it, Joe!" Margaret answered. As old and crusty as Margaret was, she loved her new boss. He ran a tight ship, which was how Margaret liked it, and while she knew he could be demanding she also knew he'd never ask someone to do what he wouldn't do himself. She was smart enough to figure out that Joe was probably helping a valuable employee with a personal problem and applauded his professionalism for not doing it on company time. Joe was a huge contrast to the three martini lunches and the beer-soaked afternoons of her past bosses for whom most of her time was spent keeping them out of trouble with the GM brass.
Returning to his office, Joe felt his cell phone vibrate. "Joe here!"
"Joe, Chaz. I ran the all the info and here's what I got for ya..."
"Lay it on me."
"The kid's story checks out. I even got a copy of his birth certificate. I'll send that to ya. School records are clean. Last year at Parker it looks like he took all the normal courses and had a 3.15 grade point. Don't ask me how I do these things... He had four absences all year. No disciplinary action at school. No priors. No warrants. No juvie records. No involvement from child protection agencies. There ya go... He's clean."
"Thanks, Chaz. Send me the bill on the iPhone and I'll make sure it gets paid today."
"OK, let's talk soon, Joe! By the way, we need to get together anyway. Your new house has some leading edge security over there and we need to do a run through..."
"Come down this weekend, then! Just gimme a call! We're moving in next week anyhow..."
"Will do. OK, gotta run. I'll be in touch..."
Joe put the phone back in his pocket and sighed. "Well, Val, it looks like we got a third son now. You heard what the Father said, God sent this child to me. I know, I know... I won't let him down. Well, it's gonna be a long day, hon..."
Joe was resigned about what he had to do. While not apprehensive, or dreading it, he was nevertheless wondering how he was going to handle another teenager as a single dad having a job with huge responsibilities. He'd need Sean and Andy's help for sure. Joe pulled his phone back out and texted Sean and Andy, "Family meeting 7:00 tonight. You guys, me and Juan. This is mandatory."
Right away he got back two identical KK's one from each boy.
"Juan..." Sean said.
"Yes?"
"Me and And just got texts from dad. We're having a family meeting at 7:00 tonight and that's including you. So, let's plan on having dinner at 7:00 and we can kill two birds with one stone. You any good in the kitchen?"
"I can cook, and stuff... I'll help you if you want..."
"That's good because Brown Eyes over there can't boil water!"
"Fuck you, Sean-o! I got other talents!"
Juan looked at both other boys not knowing what to think.
Sean and Andy broke out laughing which only left Juan more bewildered, but he decided not to push his luck by asking. He didn't feel in any danger, which was good, he guessed.
"Listen, Juan," Sean said, "your clothes that you had on yesterday are clean. You go shower, put `em on, and we'll go to the Mall after football practice. And has to be at practice, too, because he's one of the managers. After practice, we're gonna take you to the Mall and get you a couple changes of decent clothes and a pair of shoes. No offense, but the clothes you were wearing yesterday look like shit! We're gonna getcha a haircut, too!"
Juan looked up at the much taller, much bigger boy and smiled his captivating smile. "OK, that sounds like fun. So, um, what do you guys think's gonna happen to me? I'm really scared..."
"Well, we gotta see what dad says tonight if that's what it's all about. For now, we're gonna get you cleaned up and looking presentable..." Andy said.
"Thanks, guys. I just don't know what to say. Somewhere maybe I have a guardian angel, I guess..."
Marilyn Dowling walked into Marshall Middle School at 3:30 p.m. asking to see Pegggy Dickson. Directed to Peggy's room, she knocked and entered.
"Hi Peggy, I'm Marilyn Dowling..."
"Oh, Hi, Marilyn, have a seat and tell me what's on yer mind now..."
Marilyn told Peggy of how she was at her wits end between her husband all but disowning their only son, her son's newly found headstrong outlook on who he was and her own thinly veiled threat of divorcing Herb if he didn't come around.
Peggy reassured her by saying, "OK, Marilyn, well it looks like we got a real live one here, hey? Now, ya know, these kids they all grow up in their own time and in their own way. We can't really do much about that other than as parents make sure they got their heads on straight. I know your Brett, and he's a fine young man. He'd probably forget all this crap if his dad said that even though he might not be thrilled if he's gay that at least he'd try to understand it. As for that husband of yours, well, he's the adult here and ought to know that no one can pick their parents or their kids, don'tcha know..."
"I thought about that, Peggy, but how do I get Herb to do something that is against his nature? I mean, I just don't see how..."
"Oh, these things never look easy. Lemme tell ya about our son, Timmy, once. You met Timmy, right?"
"Yes. He seems like he was brought up well. I understand he's the Quarterback of the Varsity football team. He even got Brett to go out for football this year. I never thought in a million years..."
"Well, my husband, George, and I, see, we knew something wasn't quite right with Timmy for the last year or so. He was always so happy and go lucky, then like I said about the past year or so we noticed he'd been getting kinda down in the dumps. We thought he was depressed. We saw his friends going out on dates and stuff and Timmy staying at home by himself and moping. That wasn't like him. Now, we got to thinkin' why that might be."
"And..."
"Well, you know how us moms are... So one day, I said `screw it, I think I know what it might be here,' so I went and took a look at Timmy's computer and what he was lookin' at when he was online. I noticed he'd been going to a website that was for teenagers that are gay and didn't know what to do about it. I think it's called It Gets Better, or something like that. So, even though they always say moms know everything, I didn't know for sure but I had my suspicions about that."
"What did you do?"
"Not a damn thing!"
"Nothing?"
"Well, not to Timmy. I talked to George and told him what I thought. I didn't tell him how I knew, just told him what I thought. Ya see, George has a nephew that's gay. That kid and Timmy could pass for being twins...they look the same, talk the same, act the same, the whole nine yards for Cripe's sake. And they were best friends until they were almost fourteen and they moved away to Chicago. Anyway, Timmy being gay made sense, so George asked me what I thought we needed to do about it."
"What did you say?"
"Well, ya see, Marilyn, I been at this for a long time, don'tcha know. Timmy's my youngest son, and this year is my 26th year teaching Middle School kids. Like the old saying goes, ya gotta get up pretty early in the morning to fool me, so I says to George, I says, "George, we shouldn't do anything right now. If Timmy thinks we're onto what he probably thinks is a secret he'll clam up and get worse. He's a good boy, and he won't be afraid to come to us if he needs to. In the meantime, though, if he gets any more depressed then we can suggest to him that he sees a shrink. I don't think it'll come to that, I think he'll come to us when the time is right." And he did. Butcha wanna know why he did?"
"No. Why?"
"Well, a little bit before he met up with Brett and they hit it off, these two other boys moved to town and they're gay, a couple. One of them is challenging Timmy for the Quarterback spot. They got to be good friends with Timmy, and I think Timmy was encouraged that the other two boys didn't give a damn if everyone knew they're gay. So, one day the three of them there, they go to the Mall and they run into Brett by accident. That night, Timmy took Brett out on a date and they fell in love. Marilyn, our sons are in love. It is what it is. They're two fine young men, and if they love each other, then who is anyone else to say? So, Timmy came to us because he found someone who swept him off his feet, and his new friends showed him that if he was gonna be himself the sky wasn't gonna fall. We raised our three boys to be honest people, and in the end Timmy was honest with us. He's better off for it. So, I think in the end it'll all work out."
"Well, what about my husband? He doesn't seem like he's going to accept this..."
"Oh, he will. He just doesn't know it yet, hey. Right now he's probably sitting at home alone wondering what the hell happened to turn his life upside down. Now, he's probably still wantin' it his own way, but you and I both know that's not gonna happen if he's gonna keep his family together, and this isn't anything a person wrecks their family over. Brett's a good boy, and you seem like a good mom so I can't think your husband in the end is gonna wreck his own family over this."
"Well, I'm at a loss for what to do here. I kinda ran out and gave him an ultimatum. Maybe I made a mistake..."
"Maybe ya did, and maybe ya didn't, but that's not important. I dunno if ya lost that battle, or not, but whatcha wanna do is win the war."
"I don't understand..."
"Well, if you're feeling a little guilty, then ya might wanna go back home and have a little talk with Brett's dad there... You can tell him you came to see me if you want, I don't care. Hell, I'll talk to him, too, or the both of ya together if you think it would help, or I'll ask George to go have a beer with him. Whatever it takes, but I think ya might wanna offer a temporary truce. You can tell your husband that it might be a good idea if things cool off for a week, or two. In the meantime, have him make an appointment with a shrink, or your Priest, or Pastor, just anyone who's a third party to talk this through. Brett can stay with us in the meantime. That way, there's no chance of arguing and fighting that will just make things worse. I don't think you wanna lose your son, or your husband, am I right?"
"No, no I don't, Peggy. You hit the nail on the head."
"Well, then you tell em both that! Sometimes men are so bullheaded I tell ya! I betcha it'll all be OK, but if ya hafta, you tell em both that they either straighten up, or you're gonna have their fucking balls for earrings!"
Marilyn dissolved into a fit of laugher. "I'll do that. I better go, now Peggy, but thanks for letting me come to see you. I feel a lot better now!"
"Oh, no problem there... Listen, you call me anytime. If we're gonna be mothers-in-law, we better stick together!"
At the Mall, the boys fitted Juan with a pair of basketball shorts, a pair of cargo shorts, two pairs of Levis 501 jeans, four polo shirts, two button-down shirts, and fresh socks, t-shirts and underwear. He also got a new pair of sneakers as well as a backpack for school and a proper calculator. After that, they went to the hair salon where they were taking walk-ins. Given Juan's young-looking features and small size, Juan opted for a simple boys' regular haircut after looking at too many photos in magazines.
Once home, Juan changed into a new outfit, washed up and presented himself to the two older boys.
"Do I look OK?" Juan asked.
Andy and Sean were stunned. If there were a dictionary definition picture of the word angelic, it would have been Juan as he looked now. Silently in their hearts they both hoped and prayed that Juan could be their little brother.
"Um, J.R., you look fucking hot!" Sean answered.
"Yeah, you do..." Andy echoed.
"Really?" Juan asked.
"Go look in the mirror!" Andy said.
Juan walked over to the full-length mirror in the foyer, looked himself up and down and was flabbergasted at what he saw. He was both pleased and scared. Pleased at what he saw, and scared that it would not last beyond the coming evening. He resolved to show his pleasure and hide his fear. He always knew not to let other people see him scared.
"I think I do look good! Yeah, I do... Man, I bet the chicks will go for this look!"
"Yup, they will!" Sean agreed, winking at Andy. Sean resolved that if Juan was going to stay with them that he and Andy would have to level with Juan that very evening.
In Kenosha, Jim and Danny eyed each other nervously in the living room of Danny's Grandmother, awaiting her presence. "Don't worry, Jimbo, we'll talk to Granny as soon as she gets back. It is what it is, but we're gonna be OK. Got it?"
"Yeah, I guess so..." Jim glumly replied.
"Hey, Danny! I see Granny pulling in the driveway!" Jim called out to Danny who had gone to the kitchen.
"OK, well, let's sit in the living room. She'll walk through here to go put her purse and stuff away. We'll let he know we need to talk to her..." Danny replied.
The boys heard Granny enter the side door of the house, pad through the kitchen and turn into the living room. "Oh, hi boys! What are you two doing sitting in here all quiet. The TV's not even on!"
"Granny, Jim and I have something we need to talk to you about. That is, if you have a few minutes..."
"Well, let me just get my purse and my shopping bags put away and I'll be right out. You guys look like you saw a ghost, or something. You're not in some kind of trouble, are you?"
"No, it's nothing like that, Granny. We'll wait for you to get back..." Danny said.
"I'm pretty nervous," Jim said. "What if Granny goes flip-shit, or says I have to get out. I just dunno..."
"She'll be just fine, Jimbo. Take a few deep breaths and we'll get through it. We'll know in ten, or fifteen minutes how this is gonna go..."
Having unloaded her things, Danny's Grandmother walked back to the living room, sitting down in her favorite chair. "OK, sit down boys and tell me what seems to be bothering you."
"Granny..." Danny began. "We're not in any trouble, but we do have an issue we need to get on the table. If I told you it'd be second hand, so Jim's gonna tell you. Please listen to him just the same way you'd listen to me."
"Certainly I will. Now Jim, you just go ahead and say what's on your mind."
Jim went on to recount, tearfully at times, for Granny the entire story of his life up to and including being given a deadline to move out of the home he'd known since he was a boy.
"Oh, dear. Well that is bad news isn't it..." Granny said then getting up from her chair and walking toward the kitchen.
Jim looked, aghast, at Danny not knowing what to think. Danny shrugged his shoulders not knowing what to think, either.
Granny returned with a folder, handed it to Danny and sat down. "Just hang on to that folder for a minute and don't open it until I say!"
"OK," Danny replied, confused.
"Danny, Jim, here's the deal. I never said anything about this until now, but I'm going to be moving to Florida. I'm tired of Winter, and all my friends are either down there already, or dead. I have no reason to stay here anymore. Now, don't say anything because I've been planning this for a while. I never could get your Grandfather to make the move but he's not here anymore and I've made up my mind."
"So, does that mean you're kicking us both out then?" Danny asked, now totally clueless as to what was going on.
"Open the folder now, Danny." Granny said.
Granny's folder contained several papers that Danny did not recognize, and he did not remove from the folder. "OK, I'm not getting this," Danny said. "What are these papers."
"Well, Grandson, since I am moving to Florida and you are my only grandchild, I went to see my Lawyer a few days ago and I put this house in your name."
"You did WHAT?"
"Danny, this old house isn't worth that much, maybe $85,000. For that amount of money, at my age I don't want to take the time and aggravation to sell it. I don't need the money to buy a place in Florida anyway, your mom and dad would never want this place and you have a need for it now where I don't. I did what made sense."
"But..."
"Don't `but' me, Daniel. It's already done. I made a cash offer on a condo down there, and the paperwork should be going through in a couple weeks. All that's left for me to do is pack my clothes and a few other things. There's no mortgage on this house, the roof and furnace are pretty new, the taxes are paid up to the end of the year, and it's yours. You can keep it, sell it, rent it, I don't care... The Deed's already been recorded down at the Court House. I don't own this place anymore, Danny. You do."
"Jesus Christ!" Jim mouthed, staggered by events.
"Well, Jim, maybe Jesus did have something to do with it!" Granny laughed. "There's one more thing, too... I've titled my car to Danny as well. I know it's almost brand new, but I won't need it. I'm flying down there, not driving, and I can always get a new car once I'm there. Besides, you guys need it so you have a reliable car over the next few years."
Danny and Jim sat speechless. `The house AND a one-year-old Buick LaCrosse?' they both thought.
"I'm not going to live forever, you two, and so I decided to do what I could in advance to give you a good start."
"Um...Granny...wow..." Danny said. "I sure wasn't expecting that. I don't know what to say..."
"Say nothing. I've had this planned for a while, and it just happened to work out for everyone. Now, you two go make us each an Old Fashioned and we'll talk about the details."
Granny sipped her Old Fashioned with Danny and Jim keeping back a secret she couldn't tell them at this point. The secret was that she had cancer and wasn't expected to live for more than another year, or two. She wanted to put her affairs in order and avoid as much as possible having a lot of assets to be probated in her estate.
In Janesville, Joe arrived home from work and called the boys to meet in the living room of the GM condo.
"Boys, I'll get right to the point here. I did what I said I was gonna do and had Juan checked out. We got a lot of information and here's what we found: Juan, son, you're clean. Just like you said you were.
Juan nodded his head.
So, I need to ask you now, son, what would you like to do going forward?
"Um, well..."
"Don't be afraid, Juan. Go ahead and speak up. Look me in the eye and tell me what you think here."
"OK, well, I want to stay here. I just want a chance to have a good life. You know, like a normal life where I can have a good job and nice things and I don't have to worry about cops and drug lords and selling drugs that ruin people's lives. I'm tired of dealing with all the low-lives. I'm tired of running. I want a normal family who loves me. I want to stay here and I want you to be my dad and I want Sean and Andy to be my big brothers..."
With that, Juan dissolved in tears. "All I'm asking for is just a chance like anyone else would have..."
"Very well, Juan. I'm going to go make a phone call now. Give me ten, or fifteen minutes. And no interruptions, please, guys..."
George excused himself and went into his bedroom to call George Dickson.
"George, Joe. Sorry to bother you. We're in the middle of a family meeting right now, and here's the bottom line. Juan checks out clean. He wants to stay with us. I think that means I should adopt him. What am I looking at with doing that?"
We can go over it in more detail tomorrow when we're on the golf course, but to bottom line it I don't think it's gonna be a problem. From what you told me, he's got no family, he was abandoned, and he was injured. I can make this happen, and I can make this happen under the radar, trust me."
"Very good, we'll talk about it out on the course where there's no one else around. Now, tomorrow morning have Sean and Andy to drop the kid off at my house before they go to school. I'll need to take him to my office first to document his injuries, ask him some questions to open a file on him, and then I'll take him up to the school to get him registered. Just let me handle it."
Joe returned to the living room and took his seat.
"Juan, I just called a friend of mine who's a lawyer and I had a few questions for him. If you wish to stay, that's fine, son, but my condition on that is that I legally adopt you. That's because if you're going to stay, I don't want anyone trying to take you away at some point in the future."
"Really? You want to adopt me?"
"That's right, son. Now if I do, I need to know what you want your name to be, because tomorrow morning my lawyer friend is going to register you at school so it'll have to be on that paperwork and the Court will want to know at some point, too."
Without hesitating, Juan replied in a firm voice, "I want an English name! I want my name to be John Richard Wyman! I don't mind if you guys call me J.R., but no more Juan. From now on, I'm John!"
"Very well," Joe said. "John it is."
"Um, dad?" Sean said.
"Yes, son..."
"Well, if Jua... I mean John wants to stay here that would make me and And real happy but there's something he needs to know..."
"Go on."
"John, Andy and I are gay. We're not really brothers and we're a couple. You need to know that and be OK with it."
"Jeez," John laughed, "Tell me something I don't already know... I don't care about that. I want you and Andy to be my big brothers. I want this chance. I don't have anything else..."
"Very well," Joe said, "Now that that's out of the way, we'll move forward with this."
The next morning Brett and Tim ran down the athletic hall to look at the depth chart that Coach Slater posted at 7:30 a.m. Brett was a bundle of nerves, breathless, palms sweating and mouth dry. "Hurry up, Tim! I gotta find out if I'm on the team, or not!"
"Right behind you, sweet cheeks! I bet you did fine..."
END CHAPTER NINETEEN