Hey guys and gals!
I want to introduce y'all to the final chapter of "The Senator's Son." I began writing this in the late part of January. I was bored one afternoon, and this is what developed. I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to write me. This is my first story, and I've appreciated hearing what you guys think. Thanks especially to Jay, who has put up with me being a bit of a bitch at times about this story. I appreciate him so much, I made him into Christopher's hot boyfriend. :)
Enjoy this final installment, guys! Email me if you'd like to!
David ;)
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Suggested Listening --
"Out of the Blue" -- Delta Goodrem
"All Around" - Bebel Gilberto
"Alive" -- Melissa O'Neil
"Awake in a Dream" - Kalan Porter
"When Your Gone" - Bryan Adams and Mel C
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Senator's Son -- Chapter 12
Terminal Two at Pearson International Airport is a very busy place, handling the bulk of Canada's cross border travel. People were hugging each other on this busy day. An old couple at one of the gates marked for a flight to Los Angeles sat side by side one another. The old woman was on the old man's left. They held hands, looking at each other from time to time as if to say they were more and more in love with each passing day. Another couple at another gate closely held each other and guarded their children, as if to protect them from an assailant that had yet revealed himself. The carpeted floor helped to drown out the silence of the baby crying in the section next to where Pedro and I sat on that Sunday morning in early July. All around, we heard people speaking in different languages.
Some both Pedro and I recognized; I recognized a couple of conversations in French; there were some people speaking Portuguese close by.
Pedro and I sat there in silence, listening to songs I'd loaded onto my iPod for the trip to Birmingham that afternoon. Bebel Gilberto's "All Around" was our song of choice. The stereo headset we shared filled our time together with the rhythmic beats of the song and the raspy voice of the songstress. I held his hand tightly. I didn't want to leave him there in Toronto, but I had to finish moving our things into storage for Antony and Maria to use when he moved to Birmingham the coming fall. The apartment would be empty in just three days; three days were between me and the end of so many chapters of my life. I knew I was going to be emotional, but I assured myself that I would be OK enough to complete the task without Pedro having to take time off from his new job.
"Do you know anyone? Don't let it go, never forget that when I think of you...You're not alone..." sang us into a peace. I could feel his heart beat; it was in tandem with mine. Our breathing was simultaneous. The old couple noticed us. They smiled at us. We smiled back at them.
"Now boarding AmericAir flight to Birmingham, Alabama," a woman's voice called over the paging system in Terminal 2. "Please report to gate 9." It was my flight. Mine and Pedro's last minutes together for eight days had come to an end. He squeezed my hand tightly, as if to never let me go.
A second announcement came over the loudspeaker. With this, he and I stood. I took the computer bag that sat in the chair beside me and put it on my left shoulder, not letting go of the deathgrip that he and I shared with each other. "I don't know how I'm gonna go eight whole days without you, Dave," he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm gonna miss you so much."
"And Pedro," I started, looking into his eyes filled only with love, "you are my world, and I will miss you so much. I love you." I reached up and kissed him on the lips.
"Be careful, and you better call me as soon as you get to Birmingham. OK?"
"Yes mother," I said jokingly. I smiled at him, to which he smiled back.
"I'm serious," he said in a moment. "I love you," he said as I dragged him to the gate.
"I love you, too," I added as I broke out grip and kissed him once more. I walked backwards as quickly as I could toward the gate to keep him in my view until the last possible second. I presented my boarding pass to the attendant who scanned it and welcomed me to the airline. I turned around once more before walking onto the bridge to the plane. Pedro still stood there, dressed in jeans and a white button-down shirt that he'd left untucked on purpose. He looked amazing standing there. I walked to the plane, all the while wondering what Pedro was thinking at that very moment. In the few months since we began dating, I'd not been away from him for more than a couple of days at the most. To knowingly leave him for an eight day trip made me feel empty inside.
I felt the familiar vibrations of my new Rogers Wireless cell phone and opened it quickly. Pedro had sent me a text message, "I'm thinking about you." I boarded the plane and sent him one back before being told to turn off my phone. "I miss you already," was the entire message said. A second one quickly let him know that I loved him and that I would call as soon as I got to Alabama. I took my seat next to an older lady and fastened my belt.
The pilot came onto the intercom, welcoming us again to AmericAir, the nation's newest airline. He introduced himself as Kei Kun before introducing his co-pilot for the trip, Veronyka Peters. He told us some of the particulars of our flight to Birmingham before handing over the instruction of the emergency plan to the flight attendant. For fifteen minutes, or so, she stood before us, giving us a run down I'd seen so many times. Then finally, she took her seat in front of us all. The plane began to roll backwards away from the terminal. I looked out the window, and Pedro was standing there, next to an old man. Both of them watched our plane as we slowly moved away from the terminal.
"That's my husband standing there next to the Latin man," the lady next to me said in what was a thick, rich Canadian accent.
"The Latin man is my husband," I answered as we continued to stare at the windows where our husbands stood.
"Mine's name is Tom," the lady said.
"Mine's name is Pedro," I returned. In a second, they were out of our view. I felt more alone than the day before I met Pedro.
"In 39 years, I've never been away from him for more than a few days," the lady began to tell me. "Now I've got to go see my son. His wife is suffering from cancer and is close to death."
"I'm so sorry to hear that. My name is David," I introduced myself to the lady.
"I'm Betty," she said. "What are you going to Birmingham for?"
"Pedro and I are just moving up here from Birmingham. I'm traveling to finish up the move and put everything in storage."
"Ah. Is your family from down there?"
"Yes ma'am. I was born and raised in Birmingham."
"It's a beautiful city. I remember my Tom and I went down there to visit Pete, our son. Tom took me to Vulcan and we sat there, under the stars, looking over the city until sunrise. It was the most romantic time for either of us since we were kids."
"I understand. For my birthday, Pedro managed to get us a room in the Hotel La Fleur. There is a suite on the top two floors where you can see the southern part of the city. When the sun comes up, it instantly fills the room with light. It's so beautiful."
"It sounds amazing," she said. "I'm glad you're a nice person. I was so hoping that they wouldn't seat me next to a snobby person."
"I was just thinking the same thing, Betty."
"So what part of town are you from?"
"I lived on Southside, but I'm from Oneonta, just north of town."
"Ah. My son, he lives in Montevallo."
"I'm very familiar with the area. Many of my good friends went there to study theatre."
"It's an amazingly small town. My son teaches at the University, as does my daughter-in-law. He teaches math; she teaches French. She's a good lady, my daughter-in-law, despite the fact that she's Québécois. She's always been good to my Pete." A kind of sadness filled her voice for a moment. She gazed out the window for a moment. "She is a good lady."
"I'm sorry to hear that she's sick."
"Thank you, David. I will pass your thought to them."
"Pass it along for my mom and dad, too, Senator and Mrs. Jansen."
"I will. He's that guy the CBC is saying is the most liberal member of the U.S. Congress, right?"
"That's right. They did a profile on him for some reason. I saw it on late last night."
"Oh, Dear. He's been asked to serve as the new U.S. Ambassador to Canada."
"Really?"
"They hadn't told me that."
"Oh. I hope I haven't given away a surprise or something."
"That would be cool. They'd be in Ottawa. All we would need to do would be to get my brother and my Pedro's cousins and grandmother up here."
"How long have you guys been up here?"
"Just a few weeks. Long enough to celebrate Canada Day!"
The lady smiled and then lost herself in thought for a few minutes. Our conversation continued and eventually lasted the entire length of the flight, and before we knew it, we were preparing for our final descent into the Birmingham International Airport. Betty seemed disappointed that we were going to be parting company. I walked with her as we exited the plane, taking her to the baggage claim area that I'd become so familiar with.
Through the only terminal at the airport we walked. I waited with her until her bags came down the belt. "Do you have a way away from the airport?" I asked.
"I was going to get a cab and take it to the hospital. Then my son was going to take me to his house."
"What hospital?"
"University."
"I will ask my ride to take you, then. That way you won't have to pay for a cab."
"I couldn't ask you to go out of your way."
"It's not out of the way. Our apartment is only three blocks from the hospital. It's on the way," I insisted, showing this lady the best hospitality that the South has to offer.
"Then thank you, David Jansen."
"You're welcome, Betty."
A sign adorned with maple leafs and the words `Canuck-To-Be' caught our attention. Holding it above the crowd was Antony; Maria was also with him, waiting anxiously. I began to loudly sing "O! Canada" to get their attention. Some people looked; a few Canadians laughed at my horrible rendition of their national hymn. Betty smiled, impressed that I knew all the English words to the song. Antony heard me and ran to where I was. He hugged me so tightly. Maria was next over, smiling as she gave me a hug.
"Guys," I said in a second. "This is Betty. Do you mind if we drop her off at the Hospital?"
"Oh not at all," Antony said without thinking. "We've got to go right past there anyway."
"Yeah. No problems," Maria concurred, smiling at the two of us.
"It's nice to meet you, Betty," Antony said. Maria smiled.
"Likewise, Antony. And Maria," she said, extending her hand to both of them.
"So how do you all know David?" Betty asked of Antony and Maria. We'd made it to the car by that point, and had all comfortably taken our places in the car. Betty and Antony sat in the front; Maria and I sat in the back seat. Antony was driving the car one of his father's relatives had given him as a graduation present.
"Well," Maria started, "I'm Pedro's cousin."
"And I'm one of David's little brothers," Antony said. "He and my brother Joshua were partners for six years."
"And what happened between you and Joshua?" Betty asked, ignorant of what all had happened.
"He was killed in car crash almost two years ago," I answered honestly.
"Oh, Dear!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry for bringing up something so sad."
"It's OK," I said, turning my head to look into Antony's eyes, who'd begun to look into his rear view mirror. "You didn't know."
"Yes. I imagine it's hard. And you're so young," she said. "But I will stop talking about that. Thank you very much, Antony, for taking me to the hospital. My son and daughter-in-law will appreciate it."
"Do you need to call them?" I said as I pulled my Nokia 6101 from my pocket.
"Won't that cost a fortune?" she asked upon seeing that my phone was a Roger's Wireless device.
"No ma'am. I have a special Ontario plan."
"Oh...OK then."
"It's free roaming in the US for the first 100 minutes."
"I won't be on but a minute."
"It's OK," Antony said, "he's gonna be on the phone with Pedro for hours tonight anyway." Antony grinned into the mirror and winked. Maria chuckled.
"Oh!" Betty laughed quietly. She dialed the number to her daughter-in-law's room and quickly told her son that we were bringing her to the airport. He seemed happy that she'd made a friend on the flight, from what she told us.
We made our way down the interstate past Sloss Furnace, the exit to Carraway Boulevard, the Birmingham-Jefferson Civic Center where I'd seen so many concerts and productions. We exited onto I-65 south and headed toward UAB, which was only four exits away. Antony whipped around traffic like a pro. Betty wasn't a bit worried or nervous, citing that she'd been riding with Tom through Toronto for years.
Without much of a production, we arrived at the hospital. Outside the main entrance to the building, we saw Pete. We offered to pay Antony for the gas, but Antony refused, "it was my pleasure to escort such a beautiful lady," he said. Betty smiled.
Betty thanked me for a pleasant trip, and I gave her both my cell phone and a local number where I could be reached if she needed anything. She graciously accepted the number as she and Pete made their way back into the hospital.
Maria joined Antony in the front seat of the car as we pulled away from the building which brought so many horrid memories for me: Josh's death, for example. Antony and Maria talked about a million things, but my mind raced as we pulled up to the apartment. I began to cry.
"You OK?" Antony asked.
"Yeah."
"You're a terrible liar," Maria noted.
"What's wrong, Bro?"
"It won't be mine in three days."
"The apartment?"
"Yeah," I answered Maria's question. Neither of them said anything, but turned from their seats in the front to give me comforting glances. I'd told myself on the trip down that I wouldn't cry; what a lovely start!
"You want to go watch fireworks with us tonight?" Maria asked in an effort to my change my train of thought.
"Maybe," I answered meekly, in a tone neither of them had heard from me since Josh's death.
"If you decide you want to, just let us know," Antony said, quietly watching to make sure that I would be ok. I nodded.
The sudden vibration of my phone quieted the car. Pedro had sent me a text message. I slowly pressed the button on the phone to display the message. "I LOVE YOU!" the message said in all caps. I was still crying and couldn't see to type out a return message to him.
We climbed out of the car. Maria ran around to me, taking my hand. She and I walked up the stairs to the apartment. Antony followed, using his strong masculine arms to carry the bags that I'd brought with me from Toronto. They stayed for a while before leaving shortly after nightfall. When the darkness descended into the apartment, I found myself there, alone, in the living room, sitting in the middle of the brown carpet. The TV was the only illumination that was in the room. It felt eerie to be there by myself. Every memory I had with Josh flooded back as I stood and looked around the very dimly lit room.
There was the couch. Our trusty sofa. Josh and I bought that right before we moved into the apartment. I recalled the first night there in the apartment with him. It had been a long day in the hot August sun. He and I had been moving all day, and by the evening, we only wanted to sit and enjoy each other's company. We watched some movie, but I couldn't have told you the next morning what it had been. I fell asleep with his massive Italian arms wrapped around me. The next morning, I woke to find him asleep next to me, holding me to him as if I were going to leave him or something. There was the table someone had given us when they thought we needed a coffee table. A lamp we'd bought at a thrift shop because Josh thought it was cute. The TV was new. Pedro ad I had bought it just a couple of months before. It was one of the few things I would be sending back to Toronto.
There was the spot. No one ever mentioned or noticed the spot, since a rug had been moved to cover it. I knew it was there, though. It came from coffee. When Jay phoned to tell me that Josh had been in a wreck, I was holding a Bugs Bunny coffee cup I'd bought with him at Six Flags over Georgia. The mug shattered into a million pieces and a stain was permanently left on the carpet.
I lowered myself onto the floor for a moment as I stood there reminiscing about the past. The edge of the carpet was raised to reveal the stain that I'd never really tried to get out. I doubt that Pedro knew it was there, even.
Quietly, I lamented parting with the apartment. For me, this was my home with my first partner. It was also the home I first shared with my husband.
Even though I'd spoken to him for a moment earlier, I wanted to hear his voice again. I needed to hear his voice again. I picked up the phone to call him.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Hey gorgeous."
"It's my man!" he said almost giddily. "I was just thinking about you?"
"Really?"
"I'm sitting here eating Youvetsaki from this little restaurant in Greektown."
"Yum. Is it good?"
"It's the best. I was feeling kind of down when you left, so this nice man I'd met offered to take me to dinner."
"So I wasn't even gone an hour and you had a date," I joked.
"Yeah...cause I so want to date other people," he said almost seriously.
"I know, baby. You're mine and mine alone."
"Damn right, David Miguel," he said.
"So this guy. He was really nice. His wife was on the way to Birmingham to see about their daughter-in-law."
"His name was Tom?"
"Umm...How did you know that?"
"I sat next to Betty on the plane," I explained. "Then Antony took her to the hospital."
"Wow. So you realize that our first friends in Toronto are old people."
"I know it," we laughed.
"So how are things down there?"
"Pedro. I've not been this bored in a LONG time."
"I'm so sorry. If it's any consolation, I'm so bored I'm watching a story about Anne Murray on CTV."
"OK. You win," I joked.
"Point for Pedro!" he joyously yelled into the phone. He exhaled deeply, "So how many more days?"
"Seven and a half, by my count," I answered.
"I wish it were tomorrow," he said.
"I know."
"So I heard some news on CBC earlier."
"What was it?"
"About your dad."
"My dad?"
"Yeah. He's been offered an interesting position in President Bishop's administration."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He's gonna be the new Ambassador to Canada."
"Really???? I wonder why Maya didn't say anything about it when I talked to her earlier."
"I have no clue."
"Hmmm..." I said.
"Well babe," he said after we spoke for another few minutes. "I guess we should go." He reluctantly said those words, and I could tell that he was getting tired. I was getting tired, and Maya was planning on being there earlier than I prefer to pick me up for an Independence Day celebration the party was hosting.
"I really don't want to," I said, "but you sound like you're about to pass out."
"I am. I will talk to you tomorrow. OK?"
"That's great with me, Pedro. I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Bye, Dave."
"Bye, Pedro."
I reluctantly hung up the phone. If we'd had unlimited funds, I would have had him leave his phone on and put it on my pillow so that I could listen to him sleeping. When I finally closed the phone, I felt alone again. I sat on the couch watching TV until I passed out completely.
The next morning came early, and I was awoken by my mother banging on the door and yelling obscenities in Spanish.
"Si tengo que hacer cosas con estas brujas, tienes que irte conmigo!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "VENTE A LA PUERTA!" she screamed. I groggily woke up to find my mother, sister-in-law, and niece standing in the doorway. (If I have to do things with those witches, you have to go with me. Come to the door!)
"Nice boxers," Dawn playfully said.
"Thanks! They're Pedro's," I said as I showed them off. "What should I be wearing to this thing, Maya?" I found that my mother was quite at home in my kitchen as well as her own. She stood in the midst of the apartment's kitchen, fixing me a pot of coffee.
"Jeans and a t-shirt will be OK. Just be comfortable. The only reason I'm wearing a girdle is to keep those bitches from saying anything about the fat brown woman."
"Damn, Maya," I said as I laughed at what she meant as a joke.
"Language, David Miguel!"
"Yes ma'am," she said as Dawn snickered.
I pulled a pair of jeans out of the suitcase I'd brought back with me from Toronto. "So when can we come visit you in your new house?" Maya asked as I pulled the jeans over my thighs and my ass, taut from working out with Pedro for the past couple of weeks.
"As soon as Daddy gets confirmed," silence filled the apartment.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, knowing that I knew.
"It's been on the CBC for the last few days, Maya."
"Oh. Your father and I wanted it to be a surprise."
"Then I'll act surprised if he tries to tell me again."
"Good idea," Maya said as Dawn yelled for Skye not to get into the stuff in the apartment.
As soon as I'd finished dressing and had a cup of coffee, we headed off to the party's 4th of July function. I dreaded being dragged to this every year. Everyone talked about all those ideals that made America strong, those same ideals that no one lives up to anymore. We pulled up to Boutwell Auditorium in my mother's car. Maya, Dawn, Skye, and I moved out of the car as quickly as possible. Daddy was standing there at the door, waiting to greet us as fundamentalist Christians protested outside the auditorium.
Like any good politician, Daddy waved and smiled, despite their taunts and jeers. Once inside, he let himself come out. "I hate those fuckers," he said to snickers from Dawn and me. Maya wasn't amused, at least not on the outside.
For hours, we stood in the hot line, talking nicely to the people that filed in and out of the hall. "Remind me to tell my brother that I hate him," I whispered to my sister-in-law half-way through the day. She agreed with the sentiment.
By the end of the day, I was tired. The event, though, had kept me from obsessing about the cleaning and packing that I should have been doing. The event went on without a hitch, and by the time it was over, we were more than happy. We exited the event to find the crowd of protesters had only slightly dispersed. We discussed my plans for the coming days and then left. Maya left me the keys to her car, and I hurried back to the apartment.
By the time I went to sleep, all of our personal items had been placed into appropriately labeled boxes. The framed pictures were wrapped and placed securely into boxes; loose pictures were placed neatly into another box. Collections of CDs and DVDs were placed so that they wouldn't be disturbed during the shipping to Canada.
"17 Maple Lane, Toronto, ON, Canada X5G 9L3," I said aloud as I put the shipping address on the last box of DVDs.
A key unlocking the door scared me slightly, but when I realized it was Christopher, I breathed a sigh of relief.
"You act like I've never come barreling into your apartment before," he said, a smile coming to his face, followed by a swelling in his eyes. This was the last time, after all, that he'd be able to come barreling into the apartment, without someone calling the cops at least. "So this is the last night?"
"Yeah," I said as I nodded affirmatively.
"Do you mind if I stay tonight?" he asked.
"Sure, but won't Jay be jealous?" I asked.
"I told him I'd be over here tonight," he answered.
"Then come and help me pack some of these things," I said, putting a smile on my face.
"I'm gonna miss you, David," Christopher said.
"I'm gonna miss you, too," I said. "You're my best friend."
"Do you mind if I come visit in Toronto?" he said almost childishly.
"I expect you to come visit, Christopher."
"I said that I wasn't going to cry," he said as his tears began to stream.
"It's OK," I pulled him into a hug. "It'll be OK. It's not like I'm not gonna be home, too. And there will always be room at my house for you and Jay."
A meek knock on the door disturbed our moment as friends. "Who is it?" I asked.
"Jamie and Kyle," Jamie said.
"Come in, then," I said, remaining in the floor packing. The sight before them made them weak as well, as they both began to cry. I stood up and hugged them. "It's gonna be OK, guys. Y'all are gonna come visit, right?"
"Shit yeah. Cole is already planning a trip for us, but you don't know that," Jamie said. Kyle looked a little upset. "He's even gonna pay for Doof to come," he said, pointing at Kyle.
I couldn't help but both laugh and cry at the sight of the twins' reaction to our departure. By the end of the night, Cole had also come to wish his goodbyes before going to his boyfriend's apartment. Christopher laughed and caught up until the sun rose. By six in the morning, I knew I wasn't going to sleep. Neither was Christopher, who'd promised to go to Maya's with me that night.
Promptly, the movers arrived at 8:00 a.m. I gave them some quick instructions, and they set about their job. Christopher and I got the remainder of the clothes out of the dryer and packed them into a box just as the movers were finishing moving everything out of the apartment. At 3:05, the foreman of the crew came up to me.
"We're finished, Mr. Jansen," the man whose badge read `George' said.
"Great. Here's the address of the storage unit. And here is the address to send the boxes to," I handed him two cards which he put into the pocket of his white shirt.
"Good. I'll see that they get up there to...Toronto," he said as he pulled the cards back out of his pocket to verify the destination.
"Thanks, George," I said. He turned and walked away from the apartment, yelling instructions at the men who'd come with him. "Christopher?"
"Yeah, David," he said as he walked up to me.
"Can you go ahead without me?" I asked. "I need to finish up something."
"Sure. You OK?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Christopher, for the last time, left my apartment.
I shuffled around the apartment, making sure that there were no straggling objects lying around. There was nothing left, I thought, until I saw a single picture sitting on a bookshelf built into the wall. It was of Josh and me. His blond hair and green eyes shone as if he were living in the picture. I was with him in it, enjoying nothing more than being next to him, a comfortable place I wanted to stay forever.
"Well Josh," I said to no one in particular. "It's over. This chapter of my life is over. I will always remember the memories we created in this place." I paused for a second while I thought of my words; I started to cry. "I miss you, you motherfucker." I touched the walls, countertops, and appliances one last time. There was no particular reason in this exercise, but for me, it solidified the memories of love, anger, happiness, and pain that that place had seen over the previous seven years.
The spot on the carpet stood out like a sore thumb. All the memories of Josh's death flooded in. I walked to the front door, holding the picture. I looked back to the inside of the apartment. I could almost hear Josh yelling, "Hey Dave, bring your fine ass in here and do me." I smiled, then locked the door.
A week later, I arrived back in Toronto. Pedro was more than happy to see me. I jumped onto him, kissing him like he'd never been kissed before. "Let's go home," he said as I looked into the big, rich, brown eyes of the man that had chosen me.
===== Questions or comments? boricuaholandes@hotmail.com is the email address you should send any concerns to...