I've Always Loved You, Mike

I've Always Loved You

Chapter 2 Chet

Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)

Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex

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Chet

Eric meets some he is attracted to, but expectations and religious pressures...he didn't act on them. Now, a horrible tragedy brings him back with the words "I need you."

Mike whistled when the bellman opened the door. It was a nice suite. A living area, dining room and two bedrooms. This was the Charleston Place. Posh. The furniture was all period, as in it looked antebellum. There were two queen sized beds in one room and a king in the other. We hooked up Chet's Xbox to the TV in Chet's room. I got my things from the other room I had checked out of. Chet rushed to put on his suit as Mike and I changed into ours. Chet couldn't swim alone. I watched but tried not to stare as Mike slipped his shirt off. His work with the tree service had changed him. He was much more muscular. Mike looked at me and smiled.

"It's okay to look now." He turned so I could see more clearly.

"Is it?" I asked as he slipped his pants off. "You are beautiful."

Mike turned pink. "I'm glad you think so." He slipped off his underwear and just stood naked. "You are."

"But your physique is due to hard work. I'm a gym rat." I grinned. "Looks on stage is part of the package."

"You've always been beautiful," Mike said softly.

I had seen Mike naked before. We did live together. He was not like Ben who had no modesty, and of course, I'd seen him. We shared a bathroom. Now, I did stare. He was hairy, but only a little around his pecs. A goodie trail spilled from his navel to a thatch of thick pubes. His legs were as big as the tree trunks he wrestled. He was beautiful. And becoming erect! Then I looked down. I was erect, too.

"I guess we'd better dress. Or tell Chet to go on without us." I chuckled.

Mike nodded and pulled his suit on. "Can't do that." He looked at me. "We'll have to tell him. About us."

I nodded. "We will." I pulled my suit on. "What does he know about gays?"

Mike looked sad. "I don't think he knows we exist."

I nodded. "I thought so. Where does he think his mother is?"

"Visiting Jesus," Mike grumbled.

"He knows she's not coming back," I said.

Mike fixed a severe look on me. "Now you know why I need to get him away."

I walked over to him and put my arms around his waist. "We need to tread carefully. About us and his mother."

"We?" Mike grinned.

"If we're together. He will be spending a lot of time with me. So, of course, we." I kissed him as Chet barged in our room.

"Let's go!" Chet said and fled.

Chet was fascinated with a pool inside! And you could swim from the indoor pool to the outside pool which he did several times. Mike and I talked. Inside.

"What does Chet know about sex?"

"It's what Mommies and Daddies do to make babies," Mike replied.

I gave a shrugging nod. "Well, that is right."

Mike grunted.

I reached from my lounge chair to his, taking his hand. "We'll have to take it slow. But, if he comes into our room and catches us making love. We have to be prepared to answer questions."

Mike took my hand up and kissed it. "Our room? Here."

I shoved him back lightly. "Yes. This is a one city thing. Just here." I said, knowing he knew otherwise.

"Well, I wasn't going to presume we were moving in together at first!" Mike shoved back. "That would be rude."

"I have a nice house with plenty of room." I grinned. "For you and Chet."

"I snore," Mike said.

"I know."

"You..." Mike came across and began wrestling with me. We had done this many times before. Only know I realized how much stronger Mike was. It was only a few seconds, but Mike looked down at me. "I love you."

"Whatcha doing?" Chet asked from the pool. There was a sound of concern in his voice.

"Showing this guy who's the best man." I put Mike in a headlock. "Which is me."

"No way!" Mike shot back and wiggled away. But with Mike and I laughing as we wrestled. Chet only smiled. Seeing his father acting like a big child seemed to ease Chet's mind.

"I'm hungry," Chet said.

Mike and I looked up at him. "Well, the boy's hungry. What should we do?" Mike asked. Propping himself on me.

I shrugged. "I dunno, feed him?"

Mike rose. "Okay, champ. Let's go get some food." Helping the boy out of the pool. Then turned him upside down making him squeal in delight. "Just shaking the water off." He put him down. "You're getting heavy. Maybe I shouldn't feed you."

"Dad!" Chet moaned but knew the game.

Mike grinned. "What should we feed him?" Mike asked me.

"Seafood?" I suggested.

"But it's not Sunday!" Chet balked.

"Who said you can only eat seafood on Sunday?" I asked.

"Red Lobster!" Chet shouted.

"Or...." I began. "Is Crawdaddys still open?"

"No." Mike shook his head.

"Anchor Line?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Damn." I sighed. "Those were my favorite places. Bowen's Island?"

Mike nodded. "I think so."

"Let's go find out." I got up and gathered our towels as I headed back to the room.

I was a little disappointed when we got there. Mr. Bowen had died and now the son was running the place. But it wasn't the same. Now it looked like a trendy tourist's spot near the beach. I looked around and saw the matching tables and tablecloths. Plates and checkered tablecloths. There were fishing items on the walls and in various places. Nets, an old diving helmet. It was wooden and very bright.

"Aw." I groaned. "It's not the same."

Mike shook his head with a grin. "I didn't have the heart to tell you."

The host came rushing over. "Mister Richards! Good to have you here. Three?"

He was one of my people. "You changed it!" I groused waving at the décor. "Where are the mismatched tables? Where's the sheetrock? Why are there plates?"

The young man's face fell not understanding. "It's been like this since I've been here."

Mike leaned forward. "Easy, Eric. The old one burned down."

I pointed to the wall. "My signature was on that wall, so was yours," I whined. "Damn it!"

Mike patted me on the back. "I'm sure it'll be fine." He looked at the host. "Yes, three."

"But I liked it before," I complained as we headed to a table. "Look, it all matches."

Mike laughed as we sat down. "I'm sure the food is still good." He took a menu. "He just needs a moment to adjust." He spoke in mock confidentiality to the host. "He'll be fine."

I looked at Chet. "This place was so great! I mean, Mr. Bowen had gotten all these tables from different garage sales. No chair matched. Not one table matched. He used paper plates and plastic forks. He never painted the walls but had all his customers sign the walls and ceiling. It was great!" Then I looked at Chet who was looking around for what I'd said. "Your Dad and I used to come here all the time! We signed the walls in several places."

Mike was nodding. "And you had to know the tides. This island didn't have a road. Only when the tide went out was the marsh hard enough to drive on."

I sighed. "Yea, those were the days."

Chet just stared at his father and me. Then he gathered himself. "You were here before, but he didn't remember the way it was."

"Because he hadn't been here that long ago," Mike said.

"But he knew Eric."

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Eric is famous to some people," Mike explained. "You know all those videos I have of him?" Chet nodded. "Some other people have them, too."

I looked up as the host, a waiter and waitress were arguing. The male waiter was walking over. "So will this guy."

"Can I get you something to drink while you decide, Mr. Richards?"

"Sweet tea, please. No lemon." I ordered, stating the no lemon thing firmly.

"Me, too." Mike grinned. "Dr. Pepper for him."

"Coming right up."

"Thanks, Neil." I grinned.

Chet looked as the waiter went off to get our drinks. "He was wearing a name tag." He looked back at me. "You're famous?"

"I am known by some who like my music." I nodded. I pointed to the host and the waiter who was walking back. "Like the host and Neil here." Then I stopped. "Then again, he may not. Do you like my music, Neil?"

Neil nodded. "Absolutely. I saw you in Atlanta. That was an awesome show! I couldn't believe it when Dale told me you were here. That whole....biker gang theme was over the top!"

"Good." I smiled back, then waved at the restaurant. "What the hell! You guys changed this place!"

Neil grinned. "We sort of had to. The old place burned."

I held my head down. "I miss the old place."

Neil chuckled. "Alan Bowen is doing a good job. The food's just as good."

I grabbed the menu. "Yeah? We'll see. Let me have the fried oysters and shrimp. A side of fries and hush puppies. You do still have that, right?"

"We do." Neil wrote as he nodded. "And you?"

"The shrimp and scallops. Fried. The fries and an order of shrimp for red, here." He ruffled his son's hair. "For those of us not so famous."

"Hey, you get to sit with him." Neil pointed out. "Be right back."

"Yeah, I do." Mike nodded.

I looked up. "You know, Mike. It might be time to tell him some things. This is Charleston. It will spread once we're in Texas together."

Mike agreed turning to Chet. "Those two men knew Eric, because of who Eric is. One day, you will meet someone who is special to you. You will marry them."

"Like you and Mom." Chet nodded.

I reached across the table. "Maybe we better not share that part. It's too soon."

Mike sighed. "Do you want to wait until we get there? It'll be too late. We are doing this, aren't we?" He looked at me pleading. "You know how I feel."

"But he doesn't understand about his mother." I urged. "I am not going to put him in this position. Just tell him about Texas."

Chet had watched and listened. "I'm not a baby. Tell me what?"

"Tell me about Dinosaurs," Mike asked.

"A what? I don't know what that is." Chet looked very confused.

"How old is the earth?" Mike asked.

Chet shrugged. "Old. Thousands of years."

"It's much, much older than that. Try billions of years." Mike said. "Do you know billions? Do you know how much a billion is?"

"I learned it with math."

"Okay. Who is your best friend?" Mike asked.

Chet shrugged. "You."

Mike's face told me he was touched hearing that, but also troubled. He sighed but hugged his son. "I pray you always think that way." Then he took in a deep breath. "When you were born, I realized I had a great responsibility. That was to teach you about the world so you can make decisions on your own."

"Like what?" Chet asked.

"Well, like..." Mike thought and looked around. He grabbed a menu. "If I told you, you could have anything on this menu you wanted. But it had only one thing on it."

Chet frowned. "There is no choice."

Mike nodded. "Exactly." Then he asked me for a pen. Then wrote a couple of things on a paper napkin. "Now, I tell you, you can have anything on this list." He shoved the napkin over.

Chet frowned. "I don't know what this says."

"If I told you shrimp was on there."

Chet looked back. "It's not there."

Mike grinned. "It is. It's just not in English. Right here, Camarones. It's in Spanish. You like them fried, that's camarones empanizados." Mike moved on. "My point is, how can you make the right decision if you weren't taught what you need to know? As of now, you have been taught one way to see the world. I want you to have all the information you need to see the world as it is."

Chet listened, but only grasped a little of what Mike said.

"It's a big world. There are people of many cultures in countries everywhere. You need to learn what they are." Mike said. "You're not getting that now."

"How come?" Chet asked.

"Your mother and grandparents want the world to be a certain way. They didn't tell you about all there is out there, because they pretend it doesn't exist." Mike looked at me.

"Why?" Chet asked.

"They choose not to believe it," Mike explained. "But they made a choice. You can't because you weren't taught. I'm going to make sure you have all the information so you can make a choice. And I am guilty of letting them teach only how they see it, to you. What am I? Where am I from?"

Chet shook his head.

"Has your mother told you about geography?"

"I've seen a map of the world," Chet answered. "I pretty good at that."

"You know where the United States is."

Chet nodded.

"I was born in Florida," Mike said. "My mother was born in Cuba."

Chet frowned again. "Where's that?"

"It's South of the United States. Not part of the United States." Mike went on. He pointed at me. "This is my best friend. You are my son. You are both very important to me, but for different reasons. Isn't there a boy your age you like?"

Chet shrugged. "AJ I guess."

"AJ Rhodes." Mike nodded. "But do you spend any time with him?"

"At Sunday School."

"To play." Mike put in.

"Mom is too busy," Chet said shrugging.Mike frowned. "She shouldn't have been. I would like for you to have as many friends as you can. I want you to play sports, have fun. That's what we're about to do." Then Mike smiled at me again. "Now, Eric has asked us to come to visit with him."

"Vista?" I asked using Spanish.

"¿Ahora, hablas a español?" Mike asked.

"Cinco años en Texas, ¿no crees que sería recoger?" I asked with a smile. "You started teaching me after you told me you were Cuban. I just learned it more in Texas. But it's rude to speak Spanish when not all parties at the table can."

"True." Mike nodded. "But right now, a visit is what I'm saying."

"Got it." I nodded.

"He lives in Texas," Mike said. "Do you know where that is?"

Chet nodded. "I have a puzzle map. Texas is that big pie shaped one in the middle. The capital is Austin."

Mike grinned. "You learned that. Good! So, you and I are going to stay there a while."

"When?"

"Tomorrow," Mike answered.

Chet brightened. "Will Grandma and Grandpa be there?"

Mike looked at me, then shook his head. "No, just us."

"How will Mom know where we are if she comes back then?"

That was what I feared. So did Mike. He thought. "What, Jesus can't find Texas? He made Texas!"

Chet laughed. "Yeah, I forgot."

The food came just in time. This was going to be awkward.

Mike tucked Chet in and Chet was gone. He'd had a busy day.

How old is he?" I asked looking at Chet as his father looked in on him.

"He'll be eight in two months." Mike looked with concern over his son. "I dread the trauma he'll go through soon. Realizing his mother is gone, permanently. I'm gay and what that means."

I turned Mike around. "Millions of children have gay parents. They turn out just fine. As far as Sherry is concerned, we may need help to ease the blow."

Mike nodded. Then he leaned in, kissing me gently. "The time we spent avoiding our feelings is over. Can we be together at last?"

I took his hand and led him into the bedroom we were to share. We were both nervous but wanted it so badly. The kiss only grew in passion, and we didn't have to stop. He felt so good to me. Embracing this wonderful man. He was solid and wanted me as badly as I wanted him. We weren't kids. We were old enough to know what we wanted, what we needed and were determined to give the other whatever it was we had. I knew this time was special. We belonged to each other. It was right. Two halves made to fit to be complete. Touching without fear. Our hands were free to do whatever, wherever. I made love to him, and he made love to me. We would never look back.

When the dawn shown through the curtains across our bed, I woke slowly. I smiled at the contentment I felt and knew someone was staring at me.

"What are you doing?" I asked the brown eyes that smiled at me.

"I'm glad we're finally together," Mike said, his voice muffled by the covers near his chin. "You are an amazing man, Eric."

I slid close to him. "I love you, Mike."

He nodded. "I love you, too."

Okay, we did it again. Then Mike looked over at the clock. "Damn. I need to let the guys know what's happening." He sat up putting his watch on. "I owe them that."

"I'll make arrangements," I said getting up. "We can fly out this evening."

"Can Chet stay with you?" Mike asked.

I shrugged. "He'll have to get used to me. Sure." I went into the other room and came back with the keys. "Here's the key to the rental. Do what you need to."

Mike went into work. I took Chet to have breakfast. The boy could eat! We went to the pool again. Later that day, I video skyed home to Mark in Fort Worth.

"Where the hell are you!?" Mark blasted. "I go by the house yesterday and all Della told me, you had an emergency in Charleston. Is that where you are?"

"I'm returning today," I replied. "It's a long story."

Mark sighed with relief. "Okay. Is there anything you need?"

"Who's the best counselor for kids to deal with death?" I asked.

Mark's eyebrow rose. "Death? Someone died."

I nodded. "Again, a long story. But yes, a seven-year-old I'm bringing back lost his mother. He has no idea what's going on. He'll need help. Can I get you to find out?"

Mark wrote as he nodded. "Sure." Then he looked up. "You're bringing back a seven-year-old?"

I nodded. "And his father. The father is fine, but we need to undo some teaching done with Chet."

Mark knew this was something he dreaded. "His father?"

"Mike," I replied knowing he would recognize the name.

"Mike?" Mark asked. "As in your Mike?"

"The same." I nodded. "He and his son are coming back with me."

"For how long?" This was asked for no other reason than to find out what he knew.

I shrugged. "Forever."

Mark nodded, a little saddened. "Forever." He looked at me. "I guess he came around. You two are together?"

"Mark, if this is going to be a problem...."

"No!" Mark answered quickly. "No, it's my fault we didn't stay together. I just....I didn't want things to change. But if he's the man you want."

"I always have. You know that."

Mark's face lost the sad look, a little. "Okay. Well, let me get busy with this. I'll have the information you want when you get here. I'll try not to kill Mike when I meet him." And the connection terminated.

Mark's tone said he wasn't serious about killing Mike. Not completely.

When the key activated the lock, I looked up from the channels I was surfing. Mike came in. And before he got the door shut, a hand came between the door and the jam.

"Why are...." Manny asked but saw me and knew me instantly. His eyes grew. "Why are you here with him!?"

Mike jumped back. "What the hell!? You followed me!?"

I grabbed the phone and dialed the desk.

"Wynona went by yesterday and saw the note. Going on a trip? With him!?" Manny shouted angrily. "Not with my grandson."

"I need security in 414. I have an unwelcome guest. Now!" I said quickly.

"Your grandson. My son!" Mike shot back angrily. "I'm getting him away from this life you want him to live in."

"What are you talking about?" Manny asked angrily.

"Chet doesn't know a thing about this world. He doesn't know a lot about the world in general. He has no friends. He doesn't have any playmates. He doesn't even know about dinosaurs! He has this crazy notion that his mother is coming back! All because his mother and grandparents are too chickenshit to tell him the truth!"

"Mike, tómatelo con calma." I said, urging him to calm down.

"No. Quiere la verdad. Le estoy dando a él." Mike said.

Manny looked at us like we were crazy. "What's going on? You're speaking Mexican now?"

"It's called Spanish...you dimwitted Neanderthal." Mike growled. "Not Mexican, idiot."

Manny looked shocked. "Don't talk to me like that. I am your father!"

"No!" Mike shook his head. "You're not my father! And now, you're not even my father-in-law."

"But I don't understand. You're not Mexican. Why speak Spanish?"

"You're right. I'm not Mexican." Mike agreed. "I am Cuban! My father was a man that had a Caucasian as a father. That's how I got the name. His mother was Cuban. My mother is Cuban. I AM CUBAN!"

Manny stared in disbelief. "You are not."

"Deny, deny, deny!" Mike shouted. "I've had it with all this denial! You and that church are nothing but poison! And you've warped a little boy's mind." Mike looked back at me. "Where is Chet?"

I pointed to his bedroom. "Playing with his Xbox."

"Keep him there, please," Mike asked. "He doesn't need to hear this."

I nodded as security came to my room. I eased to Chet's door. "This man is not welcome in the room." I pointed at Manny. The two well-dressed security men took Manny's arms.

"Let me go!" Manny jerked but didn't get away. "They are kidnapping my grandson."

"He is my son. I am the sole parent of a little red-haired boy in there. He just doesn't like it." Mike pointed at Manny. Then he looked at Manny. "I was born in Florida. My mother was born and raised in Cuba. I am a Catholic raised, Spanish speaking man in love with him!" Mike pointed to me. "I am taking my son to free his mind of this shit you want him to believe is true. We are raising that boy to make up his own mind about things. A lawyer will get in touch and let you know when you can see him. I don't want him to lose his grandparents, but I can't let this continue."

"Let go," Manny shouted as the one security pulled Manny out the door. Followed by the other.

The second security man smiled at me. "I loved, Don't Blame Me." And he shut the door.

I had to grin at that. I walked over to Mike. "Sorry about this."

Mike hugged me. "I'm not losing you. Now that you and I are together. Nothing is coming between us."

"Well then, we better go. Pack your few things." I said going to our bedroom.

Mike looked distressed. "I have one change of clothes. Chet has the same thing. We haven't packed the house."

I stopped, looking at Mike. "Baby, is that all you're worried about? Does Manny or Wynona know where I live?"

Mike thought. "I don't think so."

"Good." I smiled. "I'll get you what clothes you'll need. Whatever Chet needs. We need to go. Now!"

Mike walked up. "Baby?" He put his arms around me. "Is that what I am, now?"

"You prefer putz?" I joked making him smile. "Does that bother you? Being called, baby?"

Mike shook his head. "I like it. I'll be your baby. The rest of our lives." Kissing me.

After a few minutes, I patted him on the chest. "We can do this all day long....at home. Let's go."

Taking Chet to the airport, he was very excited. He'd been to Disneyworld, but they had driven. This was his first flight.

"We're going on one of those?" Chet asked looking out the window at a plane that was being loaded up.

"We are." Mike nodded. "Actually we're taking two. When we get to Atlanta, we'll take one even bigger."

"Atlanta is far away." Chet reasoned. "It took all day to get there."

"By car." Mike nodded. "We'll be there in half an hour."

Once checked in and through the security, we were behind the screening gate. As we were walking away we heard a commotion.

"There they are!" We heard a familiar voice. "That's them. They are kidnapping my grandson!"

But security had him held. "Who?"

"That man!" He pointed at us. "My grandson is the little red-haired boy. There!" Manny pointed again at us. Wynona was with him now. So was Dr. Johnson, the church's preacher.

We stopped. There were some security men walking over, but they kept Manny and Wynona back.

Mike pulled out his wallet.

"Is this your son?" The woman security asked casually.

"He is. Red hair and all." Mike nodded pulling out his license. "My name is Mike Calhoun. This is my son, Chet."

Chet had not heard what was going on with all the announcements and calls. Manny and Wynona were far enough away not to get his attention.

The woman nodded. "And you have anything to prove he is your son?

"Immunization records and photos. You can ask them." He pointed to Manny and Wynona. "Or even Chet here."

The woman nodded. She smiled at Chet. "Where're you going?"

"Texas!" Chet said proudly-

"And who is this man?" She pointed to Mike.

Chet looked confused. "That's my Dad." He said proudly.

"What's his name?"

"Mike Calhoun. I'm Chet."

Another security guard came over. "They say he is the boy's father. This sounds like a custody issue."

Mike nodded. "They lost their daughter about a week ago. His mother." He put and hand on Chet's head. "They don't like it that I'm taking him away."

"But you're his father." The woman frowned.

"Exactly." Mike nodded.

The woman smiled. "Okay. Have a great trip. We'll take care of it."

The other security personnel looked puzzled. "We're not even going to confirm this?"

The woman shook her head. "That's not our job. They even admitted that this man is his father. Why do we need to confirm that a man has a right to take his child to another state? We can't." She said and waved at Chet.

Mike, Chet and I continued on our way to the gate.

"First time I've been grateful for TSA," I grumbled.

Mike chuckled.

"What was that about?" Chet asked.

"They're just being careful," Mike answered.

We did take a bigger plane from Atlanta, then down to DFW, in Dallas/Fort Worth. At the departure area, Mark greeted us.

"Mark?" I looked at him curiously. "What are you doing here?"

"Mark?" Mike asked. "The manager, agent, ex-boyfriend Mark?"

Mark nodded. "I am. I take it, you're Mike." Mark stuck his hand out to Mike. "Mark Hill."

Mike took the man's hand. "Mike Calhoun." He brought his son up. "My son, Chet."

Mark grinned at Chet. "Hi, Chet." He shook the boy's hand. "Love the hair."

I looked at the two sizing each other up. "Okay, can we be less awkward right now?"

Mark nodded. "Sorry. I just came to give you a ride home." Then he looked at Mike. "And yes, I wanted to meet Mike." He leaned in toward Mike. "He's a good man, Mike. Don't fuck it up. I did. Or I'll kill you."

Mike's face was surprised. "I wasn't planning to."

Mark nodded. "This way, guys."

Chet was in awe of the car. It was a limousine. Not one of those obscenely long ones, but a stretch.

"Wow." Chet marveled. He looked up. "Are you rich?"

I wasn't prepared for this. "What? No."

Mark chuckled after I said that. "He's being modest." He told Chet. "He really is."

"Stop that," I growled.

When we pulled in front of the house. Both Chet and Mike stared in equal awe at the house.

"You live here?" Mike pointed at the large house.

"I live on this side. I work on that side." I explained feeling a little uneasy about showing my limited success and the rewards that had come from it.

"Our whole house can fit in this one corner!" Chet said in amazement as we walked up.

Inside was even worse. Chet was fascinated with the interior. He loved the décor. Had to touch the saddle and guns on display.

"These are real?" Chet asked.

"No." I shook my head. "They're just to look at. I'll show you your room." Eager to change his focus.

Mark stopped me. "I have a name." He pulled out a note. "Her name is Vanessa Gathers. She's great with children. She deals with death and grieving."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Mark." I looked at him. "Mark, I do miss you. I miss what we had. A part of me still loves you and I always will. But you are going to find someone out there if you want them. Just not me. I wouldn't be the man I am without you're doing the amazing job you have."

Mark bounced at that, looking away embarrassed. "Yes, you would. You're a great talent. I just found you first." He leaned in kissing me almost chastely. "I will always love you." He stepped back. "Have a good life." He waved to Chet. "Later, Kid."

Mike let his suitcase down in the bedroom we were sharing. "Damn. My whole house could fit in here." He looked around. "I mean just in this bedroom."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

Mike shrugged. "Naw, I just have to get used to it."

"Wow, Dad!" Chet said entering our room. "Your room's bigger than mine, and mine's pretty big." Then he bounced. "I have my own bathroom!"

Mike grinned at his son. "More to keep clean!" He warned with a smile. "And you had trouble with the other one."

"Sometime this week, I'll get someone in and redo it. More for a boy of eight." I told Chet more than Mike. "What sort of things do you like? I saw race cars on your wall back in Charleston."

Chet nodded. "Why is everything here made up like cowboys?"

"This is cowboy country." I smiled.

"Real cowboys? Here?" Chet marveled suddenly excited.

"They're everywhere here," I explained. "They used to drive their cattle here from all over the West, that's why this city is nicknamed Cowtown." I looked at the clock. "It's past dinner time. Why don't I take you where they drove the cattle into? It's called the Stockyards. They have great steaks."

Mike loved that Chet was having a high old time. "That sounds great."

We went to the Stockyards. The whole time Chet was looking around for something. We got to the Stockyards and had our steaks. Chet was looking very disappointed.

"What's wrong, Sport?" Mike asked.

"You said there would be cowboys everywhere. I haven't seen a one." He complained.

I chuckled. "There's one at the next table." I pointed.

The gentleman in question rose from his seat with his date. He put on his hat.

"You're a real cowboy!?" Chet with no shame asked the man who looked at us questioning.

"My little friend here heard there were cowboys but hadn't seen one until now," I explained hoping the man would understand.

The man nodded with a smile. "Yes, son. I've been a real cowboy all my life." He tipped his hat. "Welcome to Texas."

"Wow." Chet marveled. "But he was wearing regular clothes."

"Not really," I explained. "Most cowboys here, in the city will wear suits. But if you look closely, they aren't what you would see in say...Charleston. They look different. They will wear boots, polished of course, and hats. But they are cowboys. There are ranches around here all over." I looked at Mike. "Let's get him rigged up."

"Huh?" Mike asked.

"Come on, big guy." I motioned for them to follow.

At a store I knew, I opened the door. Here were rows and rows of boots, hats, buckles and everything a man needed to be a cowboy or cowgirl. The cowboy behind the counter was working on some boots as we came in. He looked up and smiled immediately.

"Eric!" He came around and hugged me. "Great to see you."

"Mike, Chet...meet my friend Hap Lawson. This man is all about hats, boots, belts and all that."

Hap shook Mike's hand and then Chet's. "Well, I don't know about that. I reckon I know about boots and hats."

Mike grinned looking around. "You made all these?"

Hap nodded. "I did. What are you doing here, Eric? Don't tell me you need another pair."

I shook my head. "Not me. Them." I pointed to Mike and Chet. "This is Chet's first trip to cowboy country, so we need to get `em rigged."

Hap nodded understanding better. "You've come to the right place. Let me get some sizes." He took Chet's hand. "Let's see how big those feet are."

Mike looked at me. "You know him."

"Sure." I nodded. "I know him and his husband."

"He's gay!?" Mike asked astounded.

I nodded. "He can't use a lasso because he's gay? People would be surprised you are. So he's gay."

Mike didn't know how to react. "Sorry, I guess I'm just not used to...I'm as bad as I claim the people at church are, aren't I?"

"Yes." I grinned and kissed him. "Now, let's find you some boots."

Chet was so proud of his boots. They were a reddish brown, shiny. The hat was just resting on his head.

"So, will you be at the rodeo Saturday? The guys would love to see you. Barry has been bugging me for months." Hap asked as he rang us up.

"Rodeo?" Mike asked.

"We meet every month." Hap nodded. "Eric did a few concerts for us for fundraising. At no cost."

"Who's us?" Mike asked.

"Gay Cowboys. It's a part of the Gay Rodeo Circuit. That's how we met." He grinned at me.

"You did a rodeo? You did Country Western?" Mike asked me.

I shrugged. "It wasn't my thing, but yeah. The lonely cowboy pining for his lover is universal and went over well, didn't it?" I asked Hap.

"He was mind-blowing! Starting off with that lonely sound of country, but ended with his classic boom. Rock!" He looked at Mike closer. "He was singing about you, you know?" Hap grinned. Mike looked surprised. "You think I don't know? Please. Dark smoldering eyes he moaned about haunting his dreams. You are that Mike? Right?"

Mike looked startled. "I am." He looked at me. "I know he wrote one about me, but he wrote another song about me?"

I chuckled. "I wrote several songs about you, Mike. Almost my entire first CD was about you."

"It was!?" Mike asked surprised.

"Of course it was!" Hap answered for me. "Forbidden was about you. Hell, the Don't Ask, Don't Tell had military themes, but it was about you." Hap shook his head. "I guess Oblivious was right. But it's okay, you were just in denial."

Mike was very upset by this. "I didn't know."

Hap reached over. "I understand. Really I do. It's good you're here now." Then he looked at the two of us. "You are together now, right?" Hap suddenly looked horrified. "I assumed you were, you were so...close, bonded when you came in."

"Yeah. We are." Mike put his arm around me. "If he'll have me."

I shook my head. "Nope. Changed my mind." I shook his arm off. Then turned, grabbing his face and pulled it to me. "You think I'm crazy? After a decade, damned right I'll have you."

Chet looked at the two of us. I will say this. Because no one ever told him about us. He didn't know to think it was bad. "You guys do that a lot."

Mike grinned down at him. "Yeah, that's what love does."

"So, are we going to the rodeo?" Chet asked holding back his excitement.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

Chet bounced with excitement. "And you'll be there, right?" He asked Hap.

Hap raised an eyebrow. "Be there? Boy, I'll be in it. And you'll see me winning!"

"Really?" Chet asked in disbelief.

"Best calf roper in the state." Hap boasted. "Hell, the entire West!"

Later that night Mike and I shared a precious moment of time together. As we drifted to sleep holding each other. I knew it would be good for us. We fit together so well.

"I know I'm doing the right thing," Mike said quietly. There was a little doubt in his voice.

"But?" I asked.

"I just dread what will happen to Chet," Mike confessed. "I don't want to take away that innocence he has."

"Mike." I began. "I hate he has to hurt. It will hurt when he understands what happened to Sherry. You can't protect him from the world. That's what that church has tried to do. It doesn't work. You are preparing him for reality. Not fantasy. It has to be done."

Mike sighed. "I know." Then he smiled. "I love you."

Being a musician. It's hard to explain how it works to a non-musician. Explaining me was even harder. Like any artist, be it a writer, sculptor or painter. Something plays on your mind. You see a character in a piece you're writing doing something or an image in clay or in paint. I couldn't sleep! This tune was coming and just circled my mind. Songs, the words and music would just...come. The new music would haunt my thoughts. I woke having that sensation and it wouldn't stop! It would be an obsession I couldn't shake. Ignoring it, I knew was useless, so I jotted a note for Mike, putting it on my pillow for Mike to see when he woke up. It was about eight in the morning when I heard the door open where I was working out the tune.

"Here you are," Mike said coming over. "You weren't there. I saw the note about inspiration hitting. This happened a lot when we were living together. How's it coming?"

I nodded. "I can't help it." I shrugged. "It just....comes." I glanced over. He at least put on his BVD's.

"Can I hear it?" He asked sitting on the bench beside me.

I started to play on the piano. He listened nodding. I finished what I had. "It's a work in progress. Not finished. When things happen, I become inspired and...well, I just have to write it down."

Mike grinned. "It's beautiful." He kissed me. "What brought it on?"

"You did," I said simply.

Mike turned a little pink. "Me?" He looked a bit embarrassed. "I am sorry you wrote songs I didn't pick up on. I guess I am Oblivious."

I chuckled. "And that's the drama. This song will be different."

"How?"

"You're not oblivious anymore." I kissed him hard. "You'll see."

"Are you up?" I hear from the other room.

"Della," I told Mike.

"Della?" Mike asked.

"My left arm," I replied. "You're the right arm. She's a brilliant woman. She assists me with life. Answers calls, does my Web Page, gets mail, pays bills..."

Mike nodded. "Got it." He looked down. "I'm sort of trapped."

I grinned. "Yes, you are." I got up and went to the door. "Della, do me a favor. Close your eyes until I say otherwise."

She froze. "Okay." She grinned. "So what is it I'm not supposed to see?"

"You'll find out in a moment," I replied. She did as I asked, so I waved to Mike who ran up the stairs.

"I could hear someone going up the stairs." Della grinned at me, her eyes still closed.

"You can open them now."

She came over and kissed me in her "good morning" way. "Am I to assume the trip to Charleston was not all negative?"

I waved her off and headed to the kitchen. "Assume whatever."

Della whined as we went into the kitchen to start the coffee. "That's not fair! That's not an answer and you're not saying no."

"Where is everybody?" I heard Chet call down.

"Come to the end of the hall, you'll see stairs that will bring you down where we are," I called back.

Della looked surprised and turned toward me.

"I got him." Mike's voice came, a startled yelp and then he came down the stairs with Chet hanging down from where Mike had thrown him over his shoulder. Chet cackling as his father carried him. Mike put his son down. "I found this in the hall."

"Della Rivers. Meet Mike Calhoun and his son, Chet." I introduced.

Della smiled at them. "Of course, he's gorgeous." She said to me sadly. She put her hand out. "Nice to finally meet you, Mike." She looked down at Chet. "Chet. Love the hair!"

"Why does everyone say that?" Chet grinned as he shook her hand.

"Because us redheads are rare," Della explained. Then spoke quietly. "We have to stick together."

"Only his is natural." I chided, getting a jab in the gut from Della. I turned my attention back to breakfast, for I knew what was coming.

"I'm hungry," Chet said what I knew.

I shook my head. "I guess we need to go grocery shopping." I turned. "First we'll go get a Texas breakfast, then get you guys some clothes and then hit Texas Earth Garden." I pushed Chet back toward the stairs. "Go change and we'll go." I looked at Mike. "I've been gone over a month, so there's little here. And nothing for a growing boy."

"Are you staying, Mike?" Della asked with a smile.

"We are." Mike nodded.

"It's about time." Della sighed. Then shook her head. "I always check, but I see now, I'm out of the game." She put my hand on her breast. "Still gay."

I chuckled. "Yep."

"He's a good man," Della said to Mike. "I have this fantasy he will become straight and marry me, but..." she shrugged. "Now you're here, so..."

Mike chuckled. "Sorry."

"It's life." Della poured coffee. Then offered Mike some. "As always....you have that show in three weeks. There's a group coming about ten."

I nodded. "I will admit to not thinking about Vegas."

"Vegas?" Mike asked. "You're doing a concert in Las Vegas?"

"Donnie isn't the only queen performing," I replied, joking. "Okay, ...he should be a queen..." I shrugged. "I'm headlining! Of course, you can come with me, if you want." I fixed my own coffee.

"For how long?" Mike asked.

"Four weeks," I said back. "You probably won't stay the four weeks, you have Chet."

"Four weeks?" Mike said.

"It's what I do to pay the bills." I shrugged. "Then two weeks off and gay days at Disney for a week after that. Two more weeks off and my Summer World Tour begins."

Mike's eyebrow rose. "Wow, you're gone a lot."

I held a cup of coffee to Mike. "I am. I love it. Will this be a problem?"

"No," Mike answered. "But we can't go every time. I have to find a job and Chet will be in school..."

I nodded. "We knew this. I knew this. We'll find a school for Chet. You have time to find the job. Have you thought about going back to school yourself?"

"I've thought of nothing else," Mike admitted. "I know there are colleges here. I could check around." He smiled. "With the sale of the house and insurance payment. I will be set for a while."

"And sharing the money....as in you sharing money I earned...will that be a problem?"

"I'm not here for your money."

"See!?" I challenged him. "I knew it! You're in that, I can do it on my own bullshit."

"I am not!" Mike shot back. "But....yeah, you earned it, so what right do I..."

Della suddenly burst out laughing at us.

"What!?" Mike and I asked her equally irritated.

Della shook her head and caressed both our cheeks. "You two are so sweet! You've known each other for so long. You both know what the other is thinking before you even say it. Then you're getting along like an old married couple." She leaned in and kissed my cheek, then Mike's. "Welcome, Mike. And Eric, I'm so happy to see you are so happy." She squeezed one of Mike's arms at the muscle. "Damn." She shook her head.

"Dad!" Chet whined at the bottom of the stairs. "You told me to change, I did. You haven't. I'm hungry!"

Mike grabbed my arm. "Right, right...we're going. Sorry. Come on, Eric."

Hunger pangs eased for Chet. I took them to the mall. Nordstrom's and Macy's and then we hit the grocery store.

"This place is huge!" Chet marveled as we entered.

"Everything is big in Texas." I laughed. "This is the biggest organic store around. They have everything."

"All organic," Mike said.

"All organic." I agreed. "Free range chickens, produce not treated with pesticides or chemicals. Even rare game meats."

"Such as?" Mike asked.

"Elk, bison, bear....snake."

"Snake!?" Chet heard that. "You eat snake!?"

I nodded. "I have. It's pretty good. But I use the supplies from here because it's healthier. I need to stay in shape."

Mike grinned. "You've done well so far."

"Thanks." I smiled back. "I lost weight on the cruise, and I will again in Las Vegas. I always do. So, I need to eat to bulk up."

"I guess performing will burn calories." Mike nodded. "Will you gain it back before..." he looked at Chet, "d, i, s, n, e, y?"

"Disney!?" Chet spun excitedly. "You're going to Disneyworld!?"

Say what you will about what Chet didn't know, but spelling wasn't something he missed. I laughed. "I have a concert I'm doing for Disney."

Mike's eyes rolled. "I guess we'll have to switch to Spanish."

"I suppose." I laughed. I looked at Mike. "He can see other kids with their parents and know he's not alone."

Mike nodded. "He's performing during Gay Days. Do you know what that is?"

Chet shook his head.

"What is a family?" Mike asked.

"Mommy, Daddy and kids," Chet answered.

Mike nodded. "That is right, but there are kids out there that have two mommies and no daddies. There are kids that have two daddies and no mommies. They are another kind of family. They are called gay."

Chet shrugged. "Okay."

"I told you," I said to Mike. "He wasn't taught about any of that. He doesn't see it as wrong."

Mike nodded. "In a few years, it would have been different. Thank god I got him out."

"We are going?" Chet asked.

"We are." Mike nodded.

"Yippie!!"

"I need to consult with the homeschooling people here," Mike said. "Continue his schooling, that way he won't be behind on some things. I can start to introduce the sciences."

"You want to be a teacher still, don't you?" I asked. "Start with him." Then I stopped. "I have a name. Vanessa Gathers. She specializes in children. She will help ease things about... Facilitará las cosas con la muerte de Sherry." I said about Chet needing help dealing with his mother's death.

Mike nodded. "Sí. Y necesito un abogado para manejar la venta de la casa y abuelos de entra en contacto con Chet." He agreed and added he needed legal help dealing with Manny and Wynona.

Chet frowned looking back. "You're doing it again."

"Sorry." Mike smiled.

When we got back, groceries were put away. I helped Mike get some things done with the lawyer. First was calling Mark. Mark knew exactly who to call. Then we called Vanessa Gathers to make an appointment for Chet. The lawyer was a wonderful lawyer from what I was told. Amy Diaz. And she was gay! She knew how to handle the situation having children of her own with her wife. Manny and Wynona would be contacted, but any correspondences would come through Amy Diaz. We got an appointment with Vanessa Gathers for Friday. In between, we looked over the local schools for Chet and Mike. But Chet needed to have the issue with his mother dealt with first.

Friday came and we all three went to Mrs. Gathers' office.

"Why are we here?" Chet asked.

Mike smiled patiently. "There are some things we need to discuss. I don't really know how to tell you some of these things, so I came to her to help me."

"Like what?" Chet asked.

"Well, if I could just say it so you'd understand now, we wouldn't be here," Mike said logically.

Mike had taught his son to think things out logically and see reason. Chet smiled. "Okay."

Vanessa was a kind woman in her late thirties and had a very gentle way with children. That's what she did. While she didn't speak down to Chet, I hated when adults did that, she used simple and easy to understand terms a child could understand. She came out to the waiting room.

"Okay, gentlemen, if you three would come this way?" She motioned through a door.

"I'm not his father," I said wondering if I should be included.

"But you are in his life. Was I mistaken in that?" She asked. "I thought you two were a couple." She pointed to Mike and me.

"No." I shook my head. "I mean, I am in his life, but..."

"Then you will be a parent, also. Please?" She indicated again. So I went.

"Chet, I would like to talk to you a while, then I'm going to ask you to go into the other room. There are toys and games in there. It will keep you busy. Okay?"

Chet shrugged. "Sure."

"Tell me about you. Where do you go to school?"

"Mommy teaches me," Chet answered. "But she went on a trip to see Jesus. I guess she'll do it again when she gets back."

The therapist looked puzzled. "Who told you she had gone on a trip?"

"Grandma and Grandpa."

She nodded. "Okay. Next subject. Tell me, what do you know about dinosaurs?"

Chet looked confused. "What? Dad asked me that before, but I don't know what that is."

She nodded. "That's okay. We'll get back to that."

This went on and on. She asked about friends. She tested his reading and math skills. Then came the question at the heart of our issues.

"What is death?"

Chet shrugged. "I heard about it, but I don't know."

"You don't know anyone that's died?" Mrs. Gathers asked carefully.

Chet shook his head.

"Okay." She stood up and motioned toward a door. "In there are the toys and games. Help yourself while I speak to your father and Eric."

There was a woman who greeted Chet at the door and shut it behind them.

Mike moaned and put his head in his hands. "I am such a bad father." I reached out and took his hand.

Mrs. Gathers looked at Mike. "I thought this was for Chet. Not you. Can I tell you what I observed?"

Mike sighed and leaned back. "Give it to me."

Mrs. Gathers smiled and sat down. "What I saw was a very happy little boy. He is very much behind on some basic levels, but I saw a bright little boy with a keen mind. He was able, quite well to think things out logically. His math skills are up to a second or third-grade level. He can do simple multiplication. His reading skills are probably at a third or fourth-grade level. But you are right, he doesn't know anything about the real world. And due to his isolation during these formative years by his mother, that's where he is behind. Limiting what he even saw on TV has hindered his development. He is well mannered. Calm even. Tell me about this church he was raised in. I pulled up the Web Page. It seems very benign. But from what you told me, Mr. Richards, it is almost a cult."

"It is." I agreed. "I was raised to believe certain things. I took them to heart and when I found out I wasn't...." I hesitated.

"The homosexuality." She put.

"Is that bad?" Mike asked worriedly.

"Not at all." She shook her head. Then she paused. "Well...I will admit that I am concerned with the rapidness you got into this relationship so quickly after your wife's death had me concerned...."

"Should we put it on the back burner for now?" I asked.

She smiled and sat back. "Are you two going to let me finish before you ask me questions?" She was only a little annoyed.

"Sorry." Mike and I said at the same time.

She chuckled. "I see about this connection you two share. What I was going to say is, I don't think he sees you as a threat, Eric. Because you are male and not a female has played a part in that. However, when he discovers that you have taken a sexual role with Mike, taking his mother's place, he might. But I don't think so. I see doubt in him when speaking about his mother. He knows something big has happened but doesn't want to ask, for he doesn't want to know."

Both Mike and I waited. Then she motioned toward us to respond.

"So, he may know his mother won't be back," Mike said.

She smiled again. "I analyze thoughts, I can't read them, but he knows something. I don't think it's the churches fault, not totally. I think it was his grandparents that put the question in his mind about their daughters' death."

"Why would they do that?" Mike asked.

"They want to protect him." She said logically. "To keep him from facing trauma. But there will be trauma. When he realizes that his mother will never come back as a fact. There will be trauma." She got up and sat on the edge of her desk. "What I see, Mr. Calhoun. You are a very loving, caring father who wants only the best for your son. That's not bad parenting." She shrugged. "Could you have done more? Should you have? Sure. But you are doing it now. Rest your mind that this," she pointed to the floor of her office. "...is good parenting."

Mike let out the breath he had been holding and shook with relief. Tears welled as he leaned into me. I wrapped my arms around him.

"It'll be okay, Mike," I said quietly.

Mrs. Gathers only smiled more. "Love isn't a problem, I gather."

"No." I shook my head.

"You are a rock performer, Mr. Richards." Mrs. Gathers said. "I took the liberty of looking over your Web Page. I found many of your songs....interesting."

"Interesting as I need a shrink?" I smiled, but that fear was there.

She chuckled. "No, no. You're very talented. Some of the videos were....borderline risqué, but it was almost like seeing a view of your life. The most interesting one was You're Poisonous." That was also on my first CD. "It was clear you were speaking of a group of people you found their philosophies to be just that poisonous. That was the Baptist Temple, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "It is. They were! All those out there that say we're deceived, or choose...They poison minds, lives..."

She held up her hand. "I'm sure it was. And I agree. But you got out. Why?"

"Do you think Mike and I could marry there?"

"No." She grinned. "But you kept your wits about yourself and got out. That took some strength. Now you have Mike out and Chet. Just....be patient."

"I waited ten years. I can be patient a little longer."

"Good." She watched as Mike gathered himself. "Eric, your father was a psychiatrist?"

I nodded and then shrugged. "He drank the Kool-aide. Only he wasn't as bad as the rest. He worked with criminals. Mom wasn't that bad either, but they had me convinced to find a girl and marry her. Which I almost did. I'm glad I didn't."

"She would be too." She looked at her appointment book. "Can we do this again? What about Tuesday?"

Mike nodded. "Absolutely."

"Let's get the empty hole in his stomach you call a son." I thumbed toward the door which Chet was behind. "I know the perfect spot."

Mike shrugged at Mrs. Gathers. "He's a growing boy."

Chet loved it. The Galley. We drove up to this...well, it was a large wooden ship, like a frigate when pirate ships and sailing vessels roamed the seas. It sat on a building which housed the best seafood in Texas. So they claim. And until I have better in Texas, it is. He stared at the big displays.

"Wow! Look at all the shrimp!" Chet marveled.

"All kinds, white, pink, Australian Prawns, those are huge, by the way, you have it fried, steamed, boiled, scampi." I pointed to the shrimp bar. "Over there are crabs, all kinds." I pointed at another bar. "There is lobster, all kinds." Another bar. "Oysters. Scallops. Fish." The floor was like a football field. Booths, like bars set up everywhere. I pointed to the trays at the door. "Get one of these. Go to where you want whatever and ask for it."

"Whatever?" Chet asked amazed.

"Sure." I nodded.

Chet trotted off to the table with the shrimp. Mike smiled watching him race off. "Thanks, Eric. You've been great. He's very happy."

I shook my head. "I have a totally selfish reason."

Mike stood a little straighter. "And that would be?"

"A happy son makes a happy father," I said simply and kissed him a went to get my own shrimp. Mike grinned at that.

"I am," Mike said in rush to catch up. "Wait, Sport!" Mike cautioned Chet at the Octopus. "Do you know what that is?"

The rodeo. Chet, wearing his new boots and hat proudly stared out the window as we rode up. All the horse trailers, horses, saddles....and cowboys! Lots of cowboys. A few cowgirls. Clowns! Seeing a trailer I recognized I pulled next to it.

"You came!" Hap looked up with a big smile as we got out.

"See?" I pointed to Hap. "A real cowboy."

"Wow." Chet looked with wonder. Hap had it all. The weathered hat, dusty boots, spurs, and chaps over his jeans. "No gun?"

Hap looked surprised. "Why? No danger here, unless you don't get outta the way." He pointed to a horse that snorted. "Those guys have the guns. They do a show at the beginning. You'll hear lots of guns."

Chet looked behind Hap. "Is that your horse?" He asked about the black horse behind Hap.

"Yep, that's Lady. She's sort of high spirited, so don't spook her. Walk up gently and she'll let you pet her."

A man came up, grabbed me from behind. "You lowdown sidewinder! Where the hell have you been!?" He grabbed me and spun me around.

"Barry!" I greeted, glad to see the man. "I work!" I punched lightly on his arm. "Air," I said because I wasn't getting enough from being squeezed. "Put me down, Big Ape. I'll introduce you."

Hap and Barry were opposites. Hap was a good-looking man, he was quieter. Not Barry. Hair black and bearded. He was a bear! Big. He was at least six feet and seven inches. Huge! He was a big kitten, really.

"Barry Windam. This is Mike and Chet Calhoun." I pointed. "This lovable gorilla is Barry Windam. The first friend I made in Fort Worth. Loveable guy and Hap's other half."

Barry shook Mike's hand looking at Mike carefully. "You're right, Hap. He does have smoldering eyes." He grinned, seeing Mike blush. "I can see why Eric was smitten." He looked over at Chet being nosed by Lady who was looking for a treat. "And you must be Chet. Love the hair."

Chet looked at the big man. He saw the boots, hat, and chaps. "You're a cowboy, too?"

"Nah." Barry smiled.

"Barry is more of a pirate," I answered with a grin. "He's a lawyer."

"Hey!" Barry objected.

Hap put Chet on Lady's back so he could be led around. He was given apples which Lady loved. And sure enough, a posse began the show following bad guys, shooting and yelling. Chet was spellbound. Then when Hap was calf roping, it rang more personal as Chet knew him. Barry sat with us. The bronco bucking next. Barrel racing. We had a pooped little man after a full day here. Chet got to see many of the cowboys and their boyfriends or husbands and many with children.

A quiet Sunday and then it was the beginning of a new week. Amy Diaz called Monday morning.

"The Atkins are going to be a problem." She informed us. "They want to sue for custody of Chet."

Mike frowned. "Can they do that?"

"They can do that," Amy stressed. "But they will have to prove you are a bad father. I stressed the need for documented instances that you failed as a parent. You are the surviving parent and would have the preference. They will contest that. If they continue with the moral ground, I will blow them out of the water." She said with a little anger and determination. "Having a gay parent now is not a problem. However, they will cite that you are the problem, Mr. Richards."

I nodded. "Because I'm an entertainer."

"You are an entertainer of mostly gay men," Amy said. "Your shows do have a large audience of gay men and some of the shows are pretty sexual."

I sighed. "It's entertainment! No one has sex at my shows. I do have nudity sometimes in Vegas and...."

"That is just part of it." Amy interrupted. "The nature of what you do is not that important. A female stripper with children won't have her children taken because she works naked. She is the mother. You, Mr. Calhoun, are the father. The law is clear. Allegations must be proven."

Mike nodded. "I don't trust them."

"Of course you don't." Amy agreed. "From what I was told and having spoken with Manfred Atkins, I don't either. Rest assured. I will handle this."

"Gracias, Sra. Díaz." Mike said back.

"No preocuparse por nada. Me has hecho esto antes y no ha perdido un caso todavía. No pretendo." Amy said back assuring Mike she knew she would win. "Eric, te deseo la mejor comenzando una nueva relación. Voy a estar en contacto." She wished Mike and me a good future together.

"Gracias, Sra. Díaz." I nodded and we hung up. "The decorator will be here this afternoon. So, I need to prepare for Vegas." I said to Mike.

Mike nodded. "I know." Then he looked up as I was leaving. "Nudity?"

I grinned and sat again. "It's Vegas. There are shows I do where the guys will show their butts. It's no more than the girls performing topless."

"Are you ever naked?"

"I wear a thong sometimes," I answered. "I hate those things. They pull things....They see my ass. Is that going to bother you?"

Mike shrugged. "I don't think so. Which hotel are you performing in?"

"Blue Moon," I said. "It's an all-gay resort and casino. Clothing optional on the grounds. Most guests do take up the option."

"Naked men," Mike said thinking. "I guess bringing Chet is out of the question."

I nodded. "He wouldn't be allowed. I was thinking about Circus, Circus or The Excalibur when he came. I do a matinee on Sundays. He can come in another entrance then and see the show. A lot of guys bring kids then."

Mike nodded. "Things have really changed in ten years." He observed. "I've been in the Bible Belt too long. I just need to adjust."

I took his hand. "Baby, I will never do anything to hurt Chet. But you know how long we denied ourselves for one reason or another. It's wonderful to walk hand in hand with you. I like kissing you whenever we want. We are free to be ourselves. Isn't that better?"

He squeezed my hand. "Of course it is. I love being with you. I want nothing else. Saturday at the rodeo, all the guys kissing and touching the one person in their lives....it was great. You know it would never happen in Charleston."

"Now you know why I left." I kissed him relishing the freedom. "You mean the world to me. I love you. Don't forget that."

Mike smiled. "I won't."