Disclaimer: This story involves homosexuality. Do not continue if this will offend you or violate local laws. By continuing, you are verifying under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to sexually explicit material. The content and opinions expressed in this story do not imply anything with regards to the sexual preference of any member of *NSYNC or any other celebrities named herein.
Chapter Four - "And a Heart That's Overrun"
"Hand me that box behind the couch, Ton," I yelled behind me. Tony and Justin had stayed behind to help me pack, despite protests from some of the others that I could have someone else do it. In truth, I needed this. We were on a self-imposed hiatus, and we all had our little pet projects to keep our minds occupied. Mine was this.
Justin was working on a second solo CD that I was helping to produce, and he'd cancelled all the studio time and back-up musicians, engineers, and the like when Matt died. I wondered if Johnny had said anything to him about getting back to work, but if he had, Justin hadn't mentioned it. Of course, he didn't mention a lot of things to spare my feelings. The most notable of which was plainly evident when Tony was in the room.
I tried to ignore it, but I got the feeling that, for the first time, Tony was plainly aware of the hostilities pointed in his direction. The girls couldn't help but notice, too, and the both of them did their best to keep them in separate rooms whenever possible. I think Justin was too busy shooting daggers at Tony to realize it, but Tony wasn't, and he quickly answered their every beck and call.
Lost in my introspection, I realized that Tony hadn't brought me the box. Looking around for him, I mentally kicked myself for not noticing that he'd left the room. "Justin?" I called out. Again, I got no answer. Sighing, I uncrossed my legs. I started to get up, but my right leg buckled under my own weight. Smiling to myself, I wondered how much longer I'd be able to jump around on a stage before I wound up going under the knife for both my knees. I was suddenly feeling very old.
Laughing at my geritol moment, I grabbed the side of the chair to pull myself up. Tearing the last bit of tape off the gun, I pulled the cardboard roll off and started for the kitchen. I remembered seeing a few extra rolls in the junk drawer.
Before I could get through the door, Justin and Tony walked in, virtually blocking my exit. The look that the two of them shared almost made my blood run cold, and instantly, I wondered how much more I'd be expected to endure. After my second attempt, I pushed them aside and walked into the den where the girls stood, completely speechless.
A man in his fifties was inside the doorway, wearing a defeated look on his face. "Mr. Chasez, I'm . . . ."
I quickly interrupted him. "I know exactly who you are, Mr. Hunter. What I don't know is what you think there is for you here."
"My son . . . ."
"Is dead," I finished. "And his children, my children, have never laid eyes on you before today. Let's make that a lasting memory."
"I just wanted to . . . ."
"Apparently, Mr. Hunter, I'm being less than clear. Matt was on the verge of forgiving you enough to at least hear what you had to say. That isn't me. I don't care what you want, and quite frankly, I'm surprised that you possess the sheer balls to show up on the doorstep of the son that you left to die. I neither know, nor care, what you want. I do, however, know what you deserve. You deserve to burn in hell, and if you ever come near me or my girls again, I'll see if I can't jumpstart the process for you."
With that, I pushed him out the door, watching him stumble and fall before slamming the door in defiance. I was so mad, I was shaking.
"Josh, are you okay?" I heard Tony ask, but I still couldn't speak.
"C, it's Curly. Please say something. You're scaring me." When I looked into Justin's eyes, I could see that I was doing just that.
"I'm sorry, Justin. That's just the one person on this planet that I never expected to see. He turned his back on Matt," I began to cry. "How could anyone do that?"
In between my hysterical wracks of sobbing, he grabbed my hands and wrapped himself around me. "I don't know," was all he could manage between the "shh's."
I sat on the couch, zoned out. Tony sat next to me, cross-legged, just staring at me with his hands on his knees. "Stop staring, Ton," I finally said. "I'm not a freak."
"Sorry," he blushed. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I am," I smiled at him. "That just threw me off my guard."
"Didn't do much for us, either," I heard one of the girls say. I wasn't sure which of them had spoken. I looked in their direction to see one of them holding her shoulders and one cracking her knuckles. I knew their nervous habits well enough to know that the former was Colleen and Caitlin the latter. There were still telltale things they did that instantly clued me in to who was who.
"Come here," I motioned to them with one of my hands. Tony straightened a leg and stood away from the couch as Colleen pulled my arm around her shoulders as she clutched tightly at it. Caitlin pulled her legs beneath her and rested her head on my shoulders. "Are you two okay?"
"Yeah," Caitlin lied, even as Colleen shook her head "no."
"I take it you figured out who that was?" I noted.
"Yeah," Caitlin answered. "Dad got rid of every picture that he was in by himself, but all of the ones with Grandma are still in the albums."
I nodded, realizing that I knew that as well. Thinking I might have spoken too fast, I winced, "Did you girls want to talk to him?"
Colleen shook her head. Caitlin just resounded with an "absolutely not." I could tell that Matt's father's presence had jarred them as much as it had me.
I looked up for some kind of help. Tony seemed perplexed. "Can I get anybody anything?"
"No thanks, Tony," Colleen answered softly. Caitlin shook her head this time.
Justin had known the girls for years now. He handed Caitlin a drink and took a seat behind Colleen, pulling her against him. He wrapped an arm around her and put his own drink in front of her, where she could take a sip if she wanted.
"Tony, go into the kitchen and call Kathy at home," Justin instructed. "Tell her what happened."
Tony nodded and did as he was asked. After a few minutes, he reappeared with the portable phone in his hand. "I got the machine."
"Call Kevin's cell phone," I told him. "It's a little bit further down the list."
I was glad that Kevin and Kristin had stayed around to help Kathy pack. I'd been so absorbed with what had been happening to me that I hadn't even realized she would need the assistance.
I gently pushed Caitlin forward enough that I could ease my way from behind her. Justin smiled at me and shifted to where she could rest against him.
I stepped out onto the deck, sliding the glass door closed behind me. This was one of Matt's favorite places, and in truth, it had become one of mine as well. I sat down on the swing, pulling my feet onto the bench with me. I just stared off into space and tried to let some quiet serenity bolster me and get me through just one more day.
I sat that way for who knows how long. Every now and again, I would get the feeling that someone was watching me. I assumed it was Tony, since Justin and the girls were used to me doing this, but I guess he either thought better of it or was told not to disturb me. When the door did finally open after some indeterminate time, I knew who it was.
"Hey, Kathy," I said simply without turning around.
"Are you al...?" she began.
"Thank you for not asking me that," I smiled, turning to face her just enough for her to see it.
"Did he say where he was staying? I want to strangle him with my bare hands."
I shook my head.
"You should call Nick and Drew. Cate will want to know."
"No," I said simply. "He's not a part of their lives, just like he's not a part of mine."
"What can I do?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly.
She sat there silently. I don't know if she was waiting for me to turn around or ... I don't know what she was waiting for. I thought she'd given up when she went back into the house.
A minute or two later, I heard the door again. "I appreciate the effort, Kathy. Really, I do, but ...."
"Uncle Josh?"
I shut my eyes. "Low blow, Kathy," I thought to myself. Turning around, I put on the most genuine smile I could muster.
"Hey, Ashley. What's up, buddy?"
"Can I come sit with you?" he asked, flashing those puppy dog eyes he'd inherited from his mother.
"Absolutely," I answered, patting the bench.
He cautiously approached, and when he got close enough, I held out my hands. He lifted his arms, and I picked him up and sat him in my lap.
"What can I do for you, kiddo?"
"Nothing," he replied, leaning back against my chest and resting his head beneath my chin. "I just wanted to sit out here with you."
I hugged him tightly, and there we sat for probably the better part of an hour or so. "I miss Uncle Matt," he said simply.
"Me, too, buddy. Me, too."
After still another twenty or thirty minutes, Justin and Kathy emerged from the house. Looking over at them, I smiled.
"Come on, big guy," Justin said as he reached for Ashley, who'd fallen asleep.
"For the record, I had nothing to do with that," Kathy told me genuinely. "I walked back inside to get some coffee, and when I turned around, he was gone."
"It's okay," I smiled. "Even if you were responsible, I think I needed it."
She squeezed my hand as if to say, "Good." "Justin, will you put him in the car for me?"
"Why don't you go back to her apartment, Curly?" I asked him.
"But why...?" he began.
"You know why," I smiled. "You two haven't been alone since the accident, and it'd probably be a good thing for both of you to have a night away from me."
Justin started to protest, but I cut in. "I'll be fine," I told him. "You'll be less than ten miles away if I need you."
"I don't want to leave you alone," he pouted.
"I won't be," I reminded him. "Tony and the girls will be here." The minute I said it, I realized I wasn't helping my case. Justin almost winced when I said his name, but he grudgingly relented. He and Kathy left, leaving me outside in the darkness.
It wasn't more than a few minutes before I heard the door slide open. A hand pressed gently against the small of my back as a beer was offered before me.
"You look like you could use this," Tony smiled.
"This one and a few hundred more just like it," I told him.
"Why do I get the distinct impression that that little explosion was brought on by more than Matt's father?"
"And why am I so blessed with friends who seem to see right through me?" I raised an eyebrow as I took a drink.
"That's not an answer," he said flatly.
"No, it's not, but as soon as I come up with a good one, I'll let you know," I chuckled.
"How about a bad one?" he asked as he grabbed my hand to prevent me from hiding behind the beer again.
"Truth?" I asked him.
"Truth."
"I don't know if I can do this," I told him honestly.
"Do what? Sell the house? Move? Be a father?"
"Pick one," I smiled.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed his forehead against mine like he used to when we were teenagers. "If you don't want to sell the house and move, then don't. You certainly don't need the money."
"This house just brings back too many memories. I don't know if I can st...," I began.
"So, that's it," he said, a revelation hitting him. "You don't know if you can start over again."
Realizing the implications of what he meant, words failed me and my voice faltered. I placed the beer on the railing and walked over to the swing. Crossing my leg beneath me, I more fell into it than sat in it.
"How come this didn't hit before?" he asked. "When Craig proposed or when you got married?"
"I don't know," I answered. "I guess because I wasn't doing it alone."
"Jesus, Jace, you're not alone," he smiled sympathetically at me. "There's more people who love you now than ever before. You've got me, always. You know that."
"I do," I smiled.
"And need I remind you about the big goon who just left? He'd lay down his life for you in a minute without so much as batting an eye."
I shamefully bowed my head so I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes and know that he was right and I was just being ridiculous, but he wasn't about to let it go at that. He grabbed my chin and continued. "Not to mention the woman that left on his arm. She's starting her life over, too--just to be there for you. And her son happens to think your God's gift to planet Earth. Do you want me to continue? Cause there's the other guys, your family, Matt's family, and ...."
"Okay, I get the point," I raised my hands in defeat.
"Which brings us to those girls in there," he smiled. "You're their father, and I wish you could see just how much they love you. It's amazing."
"I know I'm just being paranoid," I admitted.
"You're being stupid," he smiled.
"Don't keep it bottled up, Ton. Get it off your chest and tell me what you're really thinking," I grinned.
"Then what's the problem?" he laughed.
The grin vanished, and he knew.
"This isn't then," he said adamantly. "You're not some kid who's gonna get hurt. Not this time."
"In my head, I know that," I assured him. "Then why am I so damn petrified?"
"Have you ever talked to anyone about it?"
I shook my head.
"Not even Justin or Matt?"
I shook my head again.
"That's why."
I looked up at him, perplexed.
"You've never dealt with it--never made your peace with it."
"I don't know that I can," I confessed, a tear streaming down my cheek.
He reached over and embraced me in a hug. "Well, if you decide to, I'm here. I won't let you get hurt again. I swear."
I kissed his cheek and started to pull away, wiping the tear away with my fingertips. He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. The sincerity in his face almost shocked me. He really did blame himself. I just shook my head, but I was interrupted when he kissed me.
My eyes shot open wide, and I jerked away from him. "Whoa" was the closest thing to an intelligible response I could muster.
"I'm s-sorry," he quickly stammered, apparently as surprised by what had just happened as I was. "I don't know why . . . ," he began. "I mean, I didn't mean to . . . ."
"You didn't mean to?" I asked incredulously.
"No," he quickly backtracked. "That's not what I . . . ."
"It's okay, Ton," I laughed hysterically. He was clearly confused by my reaction. "Relax," I told him. "I was laughing at a sense of deja vu I was having."
He had the blankest expression on my face, causing me to laugh even harder and compounding his confusion. "I had a similar experience the first time I kissed Matt," I explained.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I thought he was gonna kick me out of his house." When he looked at me, somewhat puzzled, I added, "I didn't know whether or not he was gay."
"Well, obviously, he didn't kick you out, so what happened next?"
"He said it was a good kiss," I smiled.
"We both laughed at that, but we soon fell into an awkward silence. Countless questions plagued both of us, but neither wanted to ask them aloud. With no other real recourse, we found we couldn't really change the subject. Tony finally asked, "So what happens now with us?"
"I don't know, Ton," I answered honestly. "I've never really thought of you like that." He seemed almost hurt, so I tried to help him understand. "Have you ever really thought of me like that?"
"No," he confessed, blushing. "That doesn't mean . . . ."
"No, it doesn't," I interrupted. "And it might be something I'd like to pursue some time, if you're still interested." He started to cut in, but I continued, "But right now, I'm not looking for a relationship."
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's too soon, and you're still getting over Matt's . . . ."
He had trailed off again, so I finished the statement for him. "You can say the words, Tony. I'm not that fragile. Matt's death. It is too soon, but it's because I'm not ready to feel that way about someone again. Not yet. As for getting over his death, I don't know that I ever will, but I'm moving on, just like he wanted me to do. I didn't know it would be so sudden, but it doesn't change the fact that he and I spent many a night in bed talking about it."
"Sounds morbid," he whispered.
"It sounds realistic," I smiled sympathetically. "His greatest fear was that the cancer would come back."
"That likely?"
"Yeah," I told him. "He'd beaten the odds with his five-year survivability twice, but with it having been twice, he was playing a high-stakes game against a loaded deck."
"I guess I had no idea," he admitted.
I simply nodded.
"I'm sorry," he said, with a nervous tick-type motion he'd done since we were teenagers. I knew he exactly what he was talking about.
I placed an arm around his shoulder and ushered him towards the house. "Don't worry about it," I smiled as we walked inside. "Besides," I smiled, hearing the words again, "it was a good kiss."
TO BE CONTINUED
My thanks, as always, go out to everyone, but especially to my nearest and dearest. You all are what inspire me to write, to read, and to smile. To Joshua, my love always.
Feedback and criticisms are welcome at: camillusdelellis@yahoo.com
The song "Hanging on for Dear Life" was written by Jon Lind and Brock Walsh.