Sam and Chris Chapter 59
This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males. If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned. If you find this material offensive, please leave.
This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. As the author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me. This work is copyright © 2015 by Steven Wells.
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Sam and Chris
Previously
“Okay,” Donny agreed. “When can Mathew and Joshua start eating ice cream?”
“A few months, probably,” I suggested as I began making Donny his sandwich. “Why?”
“Just curious,” Donny replied. “Do you think they will be able to eat ice cream when we have their birthday party?”
“I’m certain they could have some ice cream by then,” I replied. “Are you beginning to plan their birthday party already?”
“We have to be prepared,” Donny added. “Winthrop and Wallaby will be the same age.”
“Just like you and Simon,” I added.
“Yup,” Donny agreed. “Maybe you need to find me another brother the same age as Lincoln and Roosevelt.”
“Chris!” I almost screamed. “You need to talk to your son!”
“What’s wrong?” Chris asked as he hurried beside me.
“Donny is talking about another brother the same age as Lincoln and Roosevelt,” I explained. “Please explain why this cannot happen.”
“Don’t you want more kids, Sam?” Chris asked.
“Not right now, Chris,” I said defiantly. “I want to graduate from college before I consider adding another member to this family.”
“What if I told you I knew of two kids who are the exact same age as Lincoln and Roosevelt who are also looking for a new family?” Chris asked. He WAS smiling.
“You will be sleeping by yourself, Chris,” I warned.
Chapter 59: The Routine
I woke up the next day after we spent our first night in the house. Five dogs and one four-year-old boy were looking intently at Chris and me.
“Chris,” I said as he slowly opened his eyes. “We have company.”
“It’s only 7:50 in the morning,” Chris whispered. “We have ten more minutes.”
“Not the way they are looking at us,” I whispered back.
“We’re hungry, Daddy,” Donny finally said. “Especially the doggies.”
The dogs were sitting side-by-side with their tails sweeping the floor as Donny leaped into bed with us.
“Okay,” I replied. “We get the picture. You all want food. All six of you head to the kitchen. We will be down shortly.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Donny shouted as he hopped off the bed. We heard the pitter-patter of paws and feet as the group scrambled down the stairs.
“When will we be able to sleep in?” Chris asked.
“Probably about 20 years from now,” I replied as I slipped out of bed and into a pair of cargo shorts. I also put on a t-shirt. After bathroom duty, I went downstairs to get on with the morning. Chris was following me.
“Can we manage a few sleep deprived days over the course of the next 20 years?” Chris asked.
“People say you get used to not getting enough sleep,” I replied. “It could be worse…. At least we don’t need to get up at 6 am to milk the cows.”
“I don’t foresee cows in our future plans,” Chris said as we entered the kitchen. “So, Donny. What would you like to eat?”
“Ice cream,” he said casually.
“How about some cereal and fruit?” Chris asked.
“Ice cream,” Donny repeated defiantly.
“Eggs?” Chris asked.
“Why can’t I eat ice cream for breakfast?” Donny asked.
“We only eat ice cream after we have a nice dinner at night,” Chris tried to explain.
“Can I have some on my cereal?” Donny asked again.
“Nope,” Chris said as he filled a bowl of cereal for Donny. Chris added sliced bananas and some milk and placed it in front of Donny who was sitting on the kitchen island surveying the five hungry dogs waiting for their food.
Immediately after I had given the dogs their food, Mathew and Joshua started screaming for attention. The baby monitor made the noise sound extremely urgent.
“I will grab Mathew and Joshua and be back here shortly,” I said as I headed upstairs.
I walked into the twins’ room and they were immediately quiet.
“Hello, guys,” I said softly as I picked up Joshua and then Mathew. “Are you hungry?”
They both started kicking and smiling as I put each of them in their carrier and started downstairs. When I arrived in the kitchen, I put each of the carriers on the island. Donny moved between his brothers.
“Daddy,” Donny began as Mathew started playing with Donny’s finger. “When will Mathew and Joshua start talking?”
“It’s different for all babies,” I said as I prepared the bottles for the boys. “Sometime between 1 year and 2 years, babies begin to develop a limited vocabulary. After two years, they will become very communicative. Why?”
“I just wanted to know when I could start talking with them,” Donny added.
“You can talk to them now,” I explained. “Just don’t expect them to talk back until they are older.”
“Can I read them stories?” Donny asked.
“Of course you can read them stories,” I explained. “Pick out a simple one. They like to hear voices. Maybe we should explore stories for Mathew and Joshua.”
“Goodie!” Donny exclaimed.
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It was the first day of class for Chris and me. It was also the first day of school for Donny. He would be attending prekindergarten at a local private school, which provides intensive educational opportunities and is geared toward serving children of University of Illinois employees and students. Chris and I walked Donny to school. Mrs. Graham hunkered down with the twins at our house.
“Are you excited about going to school, Donny?” I asked. Donny tightly gripped our hands as we walked the three blocks to the school.
“Yes,” Donny replied. “I’m looking forward to being in Ms. Gather’s class. Will I meet lots of other kids my age?”
“Ms. Gather told us you have 11 other boys and girls your age,” Chris explained. “Remember what we told you about going to school?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Donny replied. “Listen to Ms. Gather, be nice to her and the other kids, and have fun.”
“Very good, Donny,” I added. “We will be at the school to pick you up when you are finished with your class later today.”
“Can you stay with me for a while?” Donny asked.
“We will get you settled in your classroom, and then we need to go to our school,” Chris explained.
“I’m going to miss you, Daddies,” Donny said. His voice seemed to quiver.
‘If Donny starts crying, I will be right behind him,’ I thought to myself. I turned to Chris and smiled. I could tell he was thinking the same thing.
“Can you carry me, Daddy?” Donny asked.
“Of course,” I said as I stole a look at Chris.
Once we were inside the classrooms, Ms. Gather greeted us.
“Good morning, Donny! Are you ready for your first day of school?” Ms. Gather effused. “We will have so much fun.”
“Can my daddies stay?” Donny quietly asked.
“Your daddies need to go to their school,” Ms. Gather replied. “We will be very busy today.”
It didn’t help to have four other kids clinging to their respective parents.
“Donny,” I decided to go for broke. “Why don’t you go over to that little boy and get to know him?”
“Can you come with me?” Donny asked.
“Sure,” Chris replied. Chris turned his attention to the father who was kneeling beside his son. “Hello. I’m Chris Williamson. We are dropping our son Donny off for his first day of school. I see you are in the same boat.”
“Yes,” the father of the blond boy replied. “I’m Daniel Cohasset. I knew this would be traumatic, but not this bad.”
“Donny normally doesn’t know a stranger,” I replied. “I’m Sam Williamson by the way.”
“Jay,” Daniel said as he turned his attention to his son. “This is Donny. You and he will be in the same class.”
“You have two daddies, too,” Jay said through sniffles.
“Yes,” Donny replied. “We have five doggies, too. They are Simon, Lincoln, Roosevelt, Winthrop, and Wallaby who live with us, too.”
“Five doggies?” Jay asked.
“Yup,” Donny replied. “I have two new brothers, too.”
“Two brothers?” Jay asked again.
“Yup,” Donny said proudly. “They make a lot of noise when they are hungry and want attention.”
“I think they are bonding,” I whispered to Jay’s father Daniel. Chris smiled. Daniel smiled.
“Let’s hope,” Daniel replied. “My husband Tom and I were dreading today. Tom wimped out on me because he had an early meeting at work. Where do you live?”
“About three blocks from here,” Chris explained. “The contractors finished the house a few weeks ago. I would like to say we are totally settled, but I wouldn’t be telling the truth.”
“We are still trying to find things,” I added.
“Are you the ones who bought the house on the corner that has been under renovation for several months?” Daniel ask.
“Yes,” Chris replied.
“We live about three houses down from you,” Daniel explained. “Tom is an attorney, and I teach mechanical engineering. You?”
“We are still in school,” I replied. “Chris is post-grad in the music department. I’m a junior with a major in computer science.”
“Let me get this straight,” Daniel said with a smile creeping over his face. “The two of you are still in college. You have a four-year-old son, a set of twins, and five dogs. How?”
“It just happened,” I began to explain. “First it was two puppies, and then the puppies’ biological brother needed a new home because his owners were moving to assisted living. The next thing we knew, Simon discovered Donny asleep in the bushes, and we adopted him. The twins, Mathew and Joshua needed a home. Somehow, we let Donny convince us that the dogs needed two new brothers after the twins were born. Simple. Straightforward. And, yes, we are probably just saps for dogs and kids.”
“Being a sap is not all bad,” Daniel responded. “You must be very busy.”
“Sometimes we seem to get very little sleep,” Chris added. “But, we wouldn’t change anything about our lives right now.”
“Jay and Donny seem to be getting along quite well,” I said as I looked at the two boys busy themselves with their conversation.
“Maybe we can slip away unnoticed,” Chris whispered to Daniel and me.
“Donny would probably go into meltdown if he discovered we were gone without saying good bye,” I countered.
“I say we act while everything is going our way,” Daniel suggested as we all joined Jay and Donny’s conversation.
“Donny,” I began. “We need to go to our classes. We will be back here to pick you up later today.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Donny replied as Chris and I each hugged him.
Daniel also said his good byes to Jay. The three of us walked out the door together.
“Here is my card,” Daniel said as we were leaving. “We should get together sometime. There is safety in numbers. Sometimes Tom and I feel like we are the only same-sex couple raising a four-year-old boy in Champaign.”
“We certainly will keep in touch,” Chris said as we parted company.
“I hope Jay and Donny put peace and serenity in Ms. Gather’s classroom,” I said. “I think she needs all of the help she can get. Six out of 12 students were screaming when their parents left.”
I was one of the first in the classroom for the “Art and Science of Web Programming” course. Tom, Harrison, and Glen were soon sitting next to me in the front row.
“How did the drop off go at Donny’s school?” Glen asked.
“Surprisingly well,” I explained. “Donny and another boy, Jay, bonded almost immediately. Jay’s fathers are Daniel and Tom. Six out of the twelve students in Ms. Gather’s class were screaming hysterically when we left. Donny and Jay were oblivious to the other emotional goings on.”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” Harrison added. “Donny usually loves the attention of new people. I think he takes after his dads.”
“He takes after his daddy Chris,” I further explained. “They both like to entertain an audience.”
“When Mathew and Joshua are a little older, Chris, Donny, Mathew, and Joshua could be a quartet,” Glen suggested.
“Mathew and Joshua cry on key already,” I said. “I think they are both hungry or want attention at exactly the same time. You can set a clock based on the level and duration of their crying. At six a.m., they are hungry. At eight a.m., they want attention. At ten a.m., they need changed. The cycle repeats for lunch and dinner.”
“How are the dogs and the back yard?” Harrison asked.
“They love it,” I explained. “They come and go as they please. The dog door is a godsend!”
An astonishingly handsome blond, blue-eyed man, who was probably less than thirty years old, entered the classroom and took his place at the head of the class.
“Good morning,” the blond said to the class. “I’m professor Tonnessen. You can call me professor, professor Tonnessen, Gabe, or hey you. Please do not use Dr. Tonnessen. It still makes me nervous.”
I looked over at Harrison. He was staring at our professor. And, he was a delight to look at. He was probably six feet tall with an obviously well-developed physique.
The blond god continued his introduction: “Welcome to the ‘Art and Science of Web Programming.’ We are going to have a lot of fun this semester. We will be looking at the theory of artistic design of websites as well as the background programing aspects which make websites pleasant to look at and easy-to-use. Now, I would like to get to know all of you.”
As Gabe called out our names, he asked each of us to tell him something about our background. He finally arrived at my name—I was the last on his list.
I began my introduction: “I’m Sam Williamson. I grew up in Southern Illinois. And, as a self-styled computer geek, I am looking forward to this course because I think computer programming, especially website development, is an art form.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Gabe said after I had finished. “Your name sounds familiar. Any reason for that?”
“Not really,” I replied.
Harrison almost spit out the water he was swigging.
“Is something wrong, Harrison?” Gabe asked.
“Google Sam and Christopher Williamson when you have time,” Tom explained.
“Is Christopher your brother, Sam?” Gabe asked.
“Husband,” I replied.
“Okay, class,” Gabe continued with a smile. “You can find the course syllabus on the CS 491 website. I want you to start this class thinking as though you are an artist and not a computer science major. We will talk about various approaches to artistic and practical website design. However, I want you to do some research. Find a contemporary artist you like and can appreciate. Your first task will be to describe why the piece of art you have chosen meets the criteria of aesthetics for contemporary art. You can work alone or in groups of up to four. Your choice. Unless you have any questions for me, I am going to cut today’s session short.”
As we were walking out the door of our first class, Harrison opened the discussion about our project. “So, guys? Do we want to do this project together or alone?”
“I vote together,” Glen replied.
“I’m in,” Tom agreed.
“So, it’s a foursome,” I also agreed to do the project as a group.
“What do we choose?” Tom asked.
“I like the one on Sam and Chris’s dining room wall,” Glen replied.
“You will need to do a lot of research on the painting,” I explained. “Chris and I have been looking for some background on the piece without much success.”
“What about Chris’ grandmother?” Tom asked.
“She hasn’t seen it yet,” I replied.
“Then, it is settled,” Harrison suggested as we separated for our next class.
The day flew by. The classes I had signed up for fit my mood at the time. I met Chris at Starbucks at 3 p.m. before we picked up Donny from school. I saw him sitting at a table near the back of the coffee shop.
“Hello, handsome,” I whispered as I put my backpack down on the chair.
“It’s good to see you,” Chris said as he pulled me closer so we could kiss. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I added. “And, the good news is we haven’t received a panic phone call from Donny’s school or from Mrs. Graham.”
“It’s only the first day,” Chris whispered and smiled at me.
“True,” I agreed. “Should we be on our way to pick up Donny?”
“Sure,” Chris replied. “I missed Donny, Mathew, and Joshua, too.”
“I know,” I agreed as we picked up our belongings. “I hope Mrs. Graham is still sane. She has twin boys and five dogs to deal with.”
“I suspect Mrs. Graham has everything under control,” Chris explained. “Otherwise, one of us would have gotten a panic call.”
We continued to talk about our day as we walked to the school. When we walked into Ms. Gather’s classroom, Donny and Jay were playing with another boy.
Donny noticed us immediately and came running toward us. With one flying leap, he landed in Chris’s arms.
“Daddy,” Donny began, “come and meet another friend. His name is Cliff. We’ve had so much fun today. I am going to like school.”
“You have a good attitude, Donny,” I said as he climbed from Chris’s arms to mine.
"Are we going home to see Mathew and Joshua and the doggies?” Donny asked as he wiggled to the floor.
"Yes," Chris replied as we followed Donny where Jay and another boy were engaged in conversation.
“These are my daddies,” Donny said to the new boy. “He’s Cliff.”
“Hello, Cliff,” I said as both Chris and me tried to sit in chairs designed for four-year-olds. “This is Chris. He’s Donny’s other daddy.”
“You three seem to be getting along well today,” Chris replied.
“Yup,” Donny replied. “We’ve had the most fun today. We started to read a story. I already knew it.”
“What story did you read,” I asked.
“The one about the rabbit and kangaroo, Winthrop and Wallaby. I told them about our new doggies,” Donny answered
“You can come to our house and visit the doggies,” I suggested. “Do you like doggies, Cliff?”
“I like nice doggies,” Cliff replied as he looked at the door and saw his mother enter. He scampered to the door to greet his mother. “Mommy! Mommy! Donny has two brothers and five doggies at home.”
Cliff’s mother picked him up and joined the group. “Hello! I’m Sylvia, Cliff’s mother.”
Chris and I stood up from our chairs. “I’m Sam Williamson. And, this is my husband, Chris, and our son, Donny. The third musketeer is Jay. We met his father this morning when we were dropping Donny off.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sylvia replied. “My husband and I were a little nervous about Cliff starting school. However, I see he’s met at least two friends. Cliff mentioned Donny had two brothers and five dogs. You must like to keep busy.”
“We do,” Chris added. “Never a dull moment at our house.”
“How old are your other boys?” Sylvia asked.
“The boys, Mathew and Joshua, are two months old,” Chris replied. “The two youngest dogs share a birthday with the twins.”
As we continued our get-to-know-each-other session, Daniel arrived to pick up Jay. “The good news is they are still in one piece. Hello, Chris, Sam.”
“Daniel,” Chris began to introduce Sylvia. “This is Sylvia—Cliff’s mother. Sylvia, this is Daniel, Jay’s father.”
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“So, Sam,” Chris began as we settled around the kitchen island after the boys were all in bed. “We survived week one of the school year. And, we are still in one piece.”
“And, we are still speaking to one another,” I added. “It is a good sign, don’t you think?”
“Yup,” Chris replied. “How’s class with Gabe?”
“Tom, Harrison, Glen, and I are studying the painting in the dining room for our first class project,” I explained. “I was hoping we could send a photo of it to your grandmother for some advice on its background.”
“I’m certain she would be willing to help,” Chris replied. “I still don’t understand why the painting didn’t show up when we Googled Arthur Panajiana.”
“It was stashed away in my parent’s attic for several years,” I continued. “According to the information my father found in my grandparent’s journal, they purchased in 1962—shortly after the artist created it. My hunch is no one in the art world knows it exists. His other pieces show up on Google searches.”
“Are you saying this painting might be worth a lot of money?” Chris asked.
“Didn’t we see somewhere some of his paintings were auctioned off for about $100 thousand a few years ago,” I continued. “The New York Museum of Modern Art holds the largest collection of his work.”
“Let’s just hope Joshua or Mathew doesn’t throw food at the painting,” Chris said with a smile.
“I can just see the headlines now,” I began. “’Twins arrested for defacing rare work of art.’”
“Before we lose the art to the terrorist actions of our sons, do you think we should plan a housewarming party?” Chris asked.
“Sure,” I agreed. “When?”
“Some Sunday afternoon,” Chris suggested. “We could have a family-oriented housewarming for our family on the Saturday before. Possibly the third Saturday and Sunday of September.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. “Why the third Saturday and Sunday of September?”
“It’s the weekend we met,” Chris said with a smile.
“Oh! You’re right!” I exclaimed. “Leave it to you to remember…. Chris, we have company.”
Lincoln and Roosevelt had occupied their now normal space near the island so they could watch us.
“What do you guys want?” Chris asked the dogs.
Lincoln and Roosevelt scampered into the family room and jumped onto the sofa. They watched us from either end of the sofa. Tails were wagging.
“I think they want attention,” I suggested. “Shall we sit in on the sofa and bond with those two?”
“Sure,” Chris agreed. “Just think…. If we hadn’t met them, Simon would not have been with us to find Donny. Without Donny, we probably would not have been candidates to adopt Mathew and Joshua.”
As Chris and I settled into both ends of the sofa, Lincoln rested his head in my lap, and Roosevelt rested his head in Chris’s lap.
“They do get very needy from time-to-time,” Chris suggested. “It must be nice to have no worries.”
“Yea,” I continued. “When am I going to get fed? When do I get to go to the bathroom? When do I get to take a nap? When do I get attention?”
“Tough questions,” Chris added. “Now, about our housewarming: how big of a party do we want to have?”
“The family one is easy,” I replied. “The other one is trickier. We have the gym group. We have your music group. We have the neighbors’ group. And, after we fill those groups, we have the out-of-town friends group. So, we could wind up with about 50 people. Can we handle 50 people in this house?”
“Piece of cake,” Chris replied. “We need to think about importing Henry or hire a caterer.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have Henry and his wife as guests rather than working?” I asked.
“Yes,” Chris replied as he continued. “However, Henry would probably rather be the caterer than a guest. I suspect he wouldn’t talk to us ever again if we didn’t let him do the catering.”
“Then, I think we have found our caterer,” I added as I rubbed behind Lincoln’s ears.
“I’ll talk to Henry tomorrow then,” Chris explained. “Maybe he and his wife would want to be part of the family group. I’m certain you and I could handle eight guests plus ourselves.”
“Perfect,” I agreed. “These two look like they are ready for bed. You?”
“Yup,” Chris relied. “Okay, guys. It’s bedtime.”
Lincoln and Roosevelt leaped off the sofa and bounded upstairs.
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We e-mailed a photo of the abstract art piece we have in our dining room to Chris’s grandmother on Saturday evening after Donny, Mathew, and Joshua were in bed. Chris’s phone began ringing almost immediately after he had pushed the send button on his laptop.
“Hello, Grandma,” Chris said as he answered the phone.
There was a pause.
“Let me put this on speaker phone so Sam can hear too,” Chris said as he turned his phone to speaker mode.
“Hello, Sam,” Chris’s grandmother said. “I took one look at the photograph you sent me and I HAD to call you IMMEDIATELY. I believe this is one of Arthur Pinajian’s missing pieces of abstract art. It was probably created about 1960. Pinajian kept a journal of all his creations. According to the online archives at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, you should be able to find the number of the painting on the back of the canvas. There is no information on the whereabouts of his paintings numbered 4433, which is about 25 to 34 inches, and 3372, which 42 by 46 inches. They were both sold to the same private collector in 1962. Do you have any other abstract paintings from your grandparents’ collection, Sam?”
“There were several,” I replied. “We have one other abstract which is about the size you were explaining in the television room. Give me a second and I will look on the back of the painting.”
As Chris and his grandmother continued their conversation, I removed the abstract painting in the television room and looked on the back. The only visible information was a pencil annotation which read 3372.
“Holy shit!” I said as I put the painting on the floor and hurried back to the kitchen where Chris was sitting. “The only information on the back of the painting is 3372.”
“Then, I think you have two of Pinajian’s paintings,” Chris’s grandmother suggested. “The Museum of Modern Art in New York has about 20 of his abstract paintings. I would have them appraised.”
“Why?” Chris asked.
“Insurance reasons,” Chris’s grandmother suggested. “The latest Pinajian acquisitions MOMA purchased at auction were on the order of a few million dollars.”
“Oh!” I sighed. “I knew my grandparents liked abstract and other modern art pieces. But, I never dreamed they collected anything this valuable. I need to get my grandparents’ journals about the items they bought. I vaguely know we have found a few artists I am familiar with. There are works by Willem de Kooning, Adolph Gottlieb, Mark Rothko, and Jackson Pollock. Other than those, I am sort of oblivious to who some of the other artists are.”
“Oh my!” Chris’s grandmother sighed. “I will try to find an appraiser for you. You should have all of the pieces from your grandparents, Sam, catalogued and appraised just in case something happens.”
“Like Mathew and Joshua throwing food at one of the paintings?” Chris asked with a smile.
“It’s not what I had in mind, but, yes, in case one of the pieces is involved in a skirmish,” Chris’s grandmother added. “I will send you an e-mail with the names of art appraisers. In the meantime, take good care of my great-grandchildren!”
“We are on it, grandma,” Chris said as we ended the phone call. “So, Sam, don’t you feel better knowing the history of the art and furniture from your grandparents?”
“I was better off when I didn’t know much about this stuff,” I admitted. “But, we can always sell it to a museum if Donny, Mathew, and Joshua start eating us out of house and home.”
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We started out week number two of classes this semester on a good note. School still excited Donny. The twins have bonded with Mrs. Graham. And, all five dogs seem to have found their routine. After we dropped Donny off at his school, Chris and I headed to our own classes.
Tom and Harrison were already waiting in the front row of our computer science class.
“Hello, guys!” I said as I took a seat next to Harrison. “How is your morning going so far?”
“We had coffee,” Tom explained. “So, everything is perfect at this point. You?”
“Good!” I replied. “Chris and I are in planning mode for our housewarming.”
“I hope Henry makes an appearance,” Harrison said.
“We’re asking him the next few days,” I explained. “It should be fun. We are limiting it to about 50 people.”
“You say that like you are asking people over for pizza and beer,” Tom exclaimed.
“I like pizza and beer,” Glen added as he sat beside me. “But, I suspect you might have other plans.”
“Housewarming party,” I replied.
“Kool!” Glen exclaimed. “Will this be a Henry party?”
“We think so,” I replied.
Gabe, our instructor, took his place at the head of the class. “So, Sam,” Gabe began quietly to address the front row crowd. “Over the weekend, I took Harrison’s advice and did a Google search. Either you are a very busy guy or there are lots of Sam Williamsons around.”
“He’s a very busy guy,” Harrison explained. “What did you find when you Googled Sam?”
“Founder of HomeFront, an organization which helps homeless gay young people find housing in Chicago,” Gabe explained his first item he found.
I slipped lower in my seat as Harrison replied, “This Sam Williamson. But, he founded HomeFront in his first year here at school.”
“Board member of the Washington Family Foundation,” Gabe added.
Tom decided to involve himself in the discussion,” This Sam Williamson.”
“Just for the record,” Glen explained. “It is probably all this Sam Williamson, including any joint ventures with his husband Christopher Johnson Williamson. And, soon, following in their fathers’ footsteps, are three sons, Donny, Mathew, and Joshua Williamson.”
“Don’t forget the five Border Collies,” Harrison continued.
“So, will I be expecting big things from this Sam Williamson this semester?” Gabe asked. At least he was smiling.
“Not any bigger than anyone else,” I replied as I still slumped in my seat.
Gabe looked out at the class. “Let’s talk about your first project. What artist have you and your group’s selected?”
“Arthur Pinajian’s untitled work created in 1960,” Glen offered.
“I’m not familiar with him,” Gabe replied. “Can you give us a little background?”
It was Harrison’s turn, “Arthur A. Pinajian was an Armenian American artist and comic book creator. He was active as a comic book creator from the late 1930s throughout the 1950s and as an artist from the 1950s until his death in 1999.”
“After Pinajian's death, five decades of accumulated artwork were found stacked up in the one-car garage and attic of the cottage he shared with his sister in Bellport, New York. He had left instructions for his collection to be discarded in the town dump, but at the last minute, an artist cousin refused to let a garbage truck haul away the paintings. The collection was said to be worth over $30 million,” Tom explained. “Several of his works are part of the collection at MOMA.”
“So, you are all four going to New York to study the painting?” Gabe asked with a smile.
“No,” Glen carefully explained. “Two of his paintings are in Champaign in a private collection, including the one we have selected.”
Gabe continued with the others in the class until class was over.
“Sam,” Harrison said as we were heading out the door. “I hope you don’t feel like we were ganging up on you in class with Gabe.”
“Why on earth would I feel you were ganging up on me?” I asked. “I should ask Gabe to come to our housewarming. He would know firsthand what chaos I endure on a daily basis.”
“I wonder who he would bring with him?” Harrison asked.
“You mean boyfriend or girlfriend?” I asked.
“Yup,” Harrison replied.
“My guess is boyfriend/husband,” Glen added.
“I’m hoping,” Tom responded. “With a body like his, it would be a shame to waste on a chick.”
I bid my computer science classmates goodbye as I headed to my other class. I was wrapping up the last class of the day when my phone started pinging with a text. It was from Chris, ‘Sam, Meet me at Starbucks as soon as possible. Need advice. Chris.’
‘Now what?’ I thought to myself. I texted back, ‘On my way.’
I hurried to Starbucks since I didn’t know what Chris needed to talk about. When I arrived, he was sitting in the back of the store at a table. Some blond dude was with him.
“Hello, Chris,” I said as I gave him a peck on the cheek. “What’s up?”
“Sam, this is Matt’s boyfriend Kevin,” Chris said as he gestured to the blond guy.
“Nice to meet you, Kevin,” I replied. “Where’s Matt?”
“Bathroom,” Chris said with a smile. “I will let Matt explain his sudden need to talk to us.”
“Okay,” I replied. “This sounds like I will need coffee.”
“Good assumption,” Chris agreed.
I went to grab a coffee. By the time I returned to the table, Matt was returning to the table. “Matt! It’s good to see you!”
“You, too, Sam,” Matt said as he pulled me into a bear hug.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“It’s complicated, but, yet, it is not complicated,” Matt began.
“I’ll help, Matt,” Chris said. “It seems our father got around more than we originally thought. We have another brother.”
“And, you know this how?” I asked.
“I met a guy who is a freshman at Northwestern,” Matt explained. “Every freshman has a mentor who is a junior. I was randomly assigned to this kid. His name is Tyler Johnson. His mother is of Asian descent. He told me his father died in an auto accident when he was two. He showed me a photo. It was our father.”
“And, how does this affect the two of you?” I asked.
“He’s working two jobs in order to have enough money to pay for his housing,” Matt explained. “He won’t make it through the first semester if he spends all of his free time working.”
“Are we talking Washington Family Foundation?” I asked with a smile.
“I am not eager to ask my grandparents to fund a college education for my father’s kids,” Chris admitted.
“I have an idea, Chris,” I explained. “We could use the HomeFront funding setup. However, you and I, Chris, could provide the $60 plus thousand dollars a year to pay for his tuition and housing.”
“You would be willing to use our personal money for this kid?” Chris asked.
“Chris,” I continued. “It’s not like we can’t afford $60 or $70 thousand dollars a year. We could get him a summer internship at either your grandfather’s law firm, the Washington Family Foundation, or HomeFront to help defray some of his general living expenses. Just because your father wasn’t forthcoming about his offspring doesn’t mean the kid needs to suffer.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Sam,” Chris said as he kissed my forehead.
“What just happened here?” Kevin asked.
“We’re helping someone get a college education,” I explained.
“Just like the flick of a light switch you two decided to spend $60 or $70 thousand dollars a year for the next four years to help someone out,” Kevin said in amazement.
“Kevin,” I began. “Chris and I are extremely fortunate. We can’t just sit back and let some kid—Chris’s half-brother no less—ruin his chances of getting a college education just because he is less fortunate than we are.”
“So are you staying with us tonight?” Chris asked Matt and Kevin.
“We don’t want to be a bother,” Matt replied.
“We’d love for you to stay, right, Sam?” Chris asked.
“Of course,” I replied. “You will, however, need to be prepared for a little mayhem before things quiet down for the evening.”
“It’s time Uncle Kevin meets your boys,” Matt said with a smile.
“No time like the present,” Chris announced as we began to collect our stuff to leave. “First stop is Donny’s school.”
As we walked the short distance to the school, Matt warned Kevin about his first encounter with our family. “Donny is a ball of energy. And, he’s a brilliant judge of character and relationships. The dogs will let you know how you stand with them as well.”
“Should I be worried?” Kevin asked nervously.
“Not unless you have something to hide,” Matt replied as he took Kevin’s hand before we went inside Donny’s school.
We had just set foot inside Donny’s room when he spotted Matt and came charging at us, “Uncle Matt! Uncle Matt!”
With one leap, Donny landed in Matt’s arms. “Uncle Matt! Who’s him?”
“Donny, I’d like you to meet my friend Kevin,” Matt began. “Kevin, this is Donny.”
“Hello, Donny,” Kevin said.
“So, if you are Uncle Matt’s boyfriend does that mean you’re my uncle, too?” Donny asked Kevin.
“Do you want me to be your uncle?” Kevin asked Donny.
“Of course, silly,” Donny replied. “You can’t be Uncle Matt’s boyfriend without being my uncle.”
Donny somehow managed to move from Matt’s arms to Kevin’s.
To be continued….
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I hope you liked the direction that ‘Sam and Chris’ is taking. I’ve heard from many people and would like to hear from even more. I would enjoy hearing your comments about this story. You can write to me at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.
This is my 59th posting of my first story on Nifty.org.
I also have three other stories on Nifty:
John's Journey Forward in the ‘Beginnings’ section
Jeffery Comes Home in the ‘Beginnings’ section
Life With Tim in the authoritarian section (Please note, this story is not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this activity, please, please do not read this story.)
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