As Janice had predicted, it took several weeks for the official paperwork to go through the system for Ephraim to be placed with us on more than a two-day pass. He took the delays better than I did, I think. I wanted him out of that terrible prison-like juvenile hall. He was the type of kid that made the best of his situation wherever he was, though.
Once he was finally officially ours, we of course went shopping. The boy needed clothes desperately. He never really complained about the orange jumpsuits, but I knew he hated them. We got to the mall and he asked that he be allowed to wear the first outfit he tried on for the rest of the day. I agreed without question. He deserved to be pampered a bit.
We had gotten to the mall at about ten in the morning. Thanks or no thanks to the older boys helping Ephraim decide on the clothes he wanted and didn't want, we were still there two hours later. I suggested that we stop for food and heard no dissent. While we were sitting at the table, I noticed that there was a tear on Ephraim's face as he kept staring at the bags we had collected so far.
"Do you like the clothes we've gotten, Ephraim?" I asked quietly.
"Oh yes, very much," he returned. I reached across the table and wiped the tear away with my hand. He looked directly into my eyes and spoke again. "I've never had anything like them. I had church clothes. I always had to look like the pastor's son. I could never dress like this. I always had to wear a tie."
"I promise you, I will never make you wear a tie," I assured him. "I try not to wear them myself unless I have to." I saw another tear forming in the corner of his eye. "Is something bothering you?"
"I'm all right," Ephraim replied. This time he wiped the tear away himself. He blushed slightly as he continued. "I just get kind of mushy sometimes. I'm sorry."
"There is no need to apologize, Ephraim," I emphasized. "I do wish you would talk to me about it though. I really do want to know what you're thinking and going through. I want to help you, if I can." More tears began to appear.
"That's what's getting me so messed up," Ephraim answered. "I just feel so good having someone that actually wants to listen to me. No one has ever done that before, except my grandmother. It reminds me of how much I miss her. I know I should probably miss my parents, but I don't. I just wish I could see Grandma Sarah again."
"I didn't mean to make you sad," I explained. "It's just that I care for you. I want you to be happy. I love you, son." The waterworks really started when I said that. I looked around, but was glad to see that there was no one at any of the tables near us. I knew he would be embarrassed to be seen like this in public. I reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"The clothes started it," he sniffled. I must have shown my confusion because he immediately explained. "When we got here this morning, I expected you to do like my parents have always done and pick out everything for me."
"I told you that you would choose the clothes because you are the one that has to wear them," I reminded him.
"I know what you said. I just didn't really believe that it would happen that way." He took a deep breath and wiped his face again. "Clothes that are mine that I get to pick out; it's like Christmas coming early. Now I feel like I belong somewhere nice because I have nice clothes." He thought about his words for a minute and then added, "It's not really the clothes. It's the fact that you bought them that tells me you really do care about me."
I admit it. I completely forgot that I was with a teenager in a public place. I got up and gave Ephraim a big hug. He didn't say anything about it, but he and I both blushed hotly when we heard an old woman say how sweet it was to see a father and son showing some emotion for each other. We left to find Brendan and Derek at the arcade. They had signaled to me that they would meet us there when they realized that Ephraim needed to talk.
"You actually let them go in that place?" Ephraim's tone of voice made it sound like the boys' lives were in danger.
"I have no right to tell Brendan how and where to spend his own money," I pointed out. "They're just having a little fun."
"But all those games promote violence and sin," Ephraim protested.
I knew he was merely quoting what he had been taught by the preacher. I also saw that Ephraim was gazing longingly into the noisy, darkened room like a caged bird looks out the window. The flashing, blinking, beeping screens of the game and the glittering glow of the neon lights were no match for the sparkle in his eyes.
"Have you ever been in an arcade before?" I asked him. He shook his head.
"Father said that video games were the workings of evil. They are sinful and cause your brain to rot," he replied.
"Come on in," Brendan called from the doorway. "Derek is going for the record on Rage in the Cage." I had no idea what a rage in a cage was, but I knew what a record was. I wanted to be there to celebrate with Derek. As I expected, Ephraim followed me.
"It's kind of noisy in here, isn't it?" I asked Ephraim.
"What did you say?" he responded. "I can't hear you."
I shrugged off my comment and we watched as Derek achieved a new high score for a game where he threw a miniature basketball at a moving goal. We congratulated him and then I leaned over to Ephraim and told him to have a look around. He was like a little kid in a candy store. I literally began to worry that he would hurt his neck trying to see everything all at once.
He finally settled on a car driving game. I sat down beside him and put our money into the machine. He finished third in the race. I came in dead last. I had a few accidents.
"That was scary, Dad," Derek told me over my shoulder. "We have to ride with you."
"I drive safely," I defended. "I just don't do high speeds and Dukes of Hazzard jumps." They looked at me blankly. "Never mind," I told them. I looked over at Ephraim. "What did you think of the game?"
"I think we should walk home," he answered with a bashful grin. Derek laughed out loud. "Could I try another game?" Ephraim added.
"I see what's going on here," I announced. "You insult me and then ask for money. You have been hanging around Derek too much already." I handed him a ten-dollar bill. "Here, go rot your brain."
"How much do I get to spend?" Ephraim questioned.
"It's all yours, Ephraim," I answered. "Spend as much as you want."
"Thank you," Ephraim called as he darted away. He went to a motocross game. He sat astride the dirt bike and leaned forward, left and right as he concentrated on the screen. Someone else was concentrating on him.
Derek noticed the boy first. He said there was a skater boy checking Ephraim out. I had to ask how Derek could tell the boy liked to skate just by looking at him. Derek explained that it was a particular style of clothing worn by a boy. I looked where Derek indicated.
A cute lad with a few stray wisps of dark hair sticking out from under his ski cap and bright green eyes was staring directly at Ephraim's butt. He was chewing on his bottom lip, and had his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. His head bobbed from side to side in response to Ephraim's control of the game.
"I haven't seen him before," Derek mused aloud. "I think we'd better check him out to be sure though."
"To be sure of what?" I queried. "What do you mean?"
"There are some guys who come to work in the arcade that aren't on the mall payroll," Derek explained. "I know; I was one of them. I used to make damn good money in here on Friday and Saturday nights."
"You mean that boy could be a hustler?" I whispered.
"I don't think so, but I want to be sure," Derek answered. "I don't want Ephraim's first time to be like that. It shouldn't be someone like me."
"Hey!" I protested. "There is nothing wrong with you, only with what you were once forced to do in order to survive." I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave a little squeeze. "You have a family now, people that love you. That wouldn't have happened if you really were a hustler."
"Thanks, Dad," Derek said. "I guess I've been letting my past get to me lately." He looked back at the boy watching Ephraim. "It's time to make the dark side serve me for a change."
"What will you do, Luke? The Millennium Falcon is in the parking lot and you left your light saber at home." Once again my attempt at humor fell on unreceptive ears.
"Would you like to do this?" Derek offered. "Just go up to the kid and tell him that you saw what he was doing. His reaction will tell us if he's a hustler."
I walked over to the boy as Derek had suggested. I looked over at him to make sure he was aware of my presence at his side. He seemed to be shaking a bit as he caught my eyes with his own. I smiled and he relaxed a touch.
"My son is playing pretty well, isn't he?" I asked.
"I... I… g…guess so," the boy stammered.
"I suppose it would be hard for you to tell," I pointed out. "You haven't taken your eyes off his butt in at least ten minutes."
"Wh…Wha…What?" he croaked. "I haven't…."
"Lies are terrible wastes of words, boy," I told him. "I'm not the only one who saw you." The kid looked like he was about to faint.
"Please, don't hurt me," the boy begged. I could see tears forming in his eyes. "I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry. Please, don't hurt me." He was trembling and his voice was getting louder. I knew I didn't need confirmation from Derek. This terrified child was no hustler.
"Let's step out to a table and we'll talk about this, son," I said calmly. "I promise you won't be harmed. I'll even buy you a drink, if you'd like."
He was really shaking now. His breathing was shallow and ragged. I didn't know if he was going to throw up on me or faint. I don't think he knew either at that moment.
"Relax," I told him, but of course he didn't. "Let's start with the easy part of the conversation. My name is Cameron. What's yours?"
"P…Peter, sir," the boy stuttered. I extended my hand across the table and saw him flinch as if he expected me to hit him. He realized what was happening though and shook hands cautiously.
"My son's name is Ephraim, Peter. Well, actually he is my foster son," I corrected myself. "He just came to live with me yesterday, so I am very protective of him."
"I didn't mean to stare at him," Peter defended meekly.
"It's just that he is so cute," I finished his thought for him.
"Oh yeah," he agreed quickly, and then realized what he had done. "I'm sorry."
"There is nothing to be sorry for," I assured the nervous teen. "Ephraim is a little doll. I am sure he has and will have many admirers in his lifetime. He is in my care, though, and I don't want him to be hurt by anyone." I looked him right in the eye. "It is ok to be gay, Peter. It is not ok to use others simply for your own pleasure, gay or straight."
"But I'm not…" Peter started to say. He stopped when he saw me raise a questioning eyebrow. "You're right. I am gay." He stopped speaking as his words suddenly registered on his own brain. "I've never told anyone that before." He looked back at me. "You just said it's ok to be gay."
"That's right," I confirmed. "I did and it is." I smiled at Peter and added, "I am too."
"Dad!" Ephraim cried out. Neither Peter nor I had noticed him walk up. "Did you tell him about me, too?"
"I told him your name, Ephraim. You told him the rest." I pointed out. "Peter, this is Ephraim," I told my guest. "Ephraim, I would like for you to meet Peter."
"H…Hi," Peter whispered, and then blushed fire engine red, even onto his ears.
"Hi." Ephraim returned the word and the blush.
They both would have been offended if I had said what I was thinking out loud. There was no other word to describe them, though. They were just precious.
"How sweet," Derek said, walking up with Brendan. "It's puppy love."
"Keep an eye on them, then," Brendan warned. "Puppies in love may start doing it doggy style in the bushes."
I didn't know it was possible to blush as much as Peter and Ephraim did at that moment. They turned so red that I feared their skin would spontaneously combust. I gave Brendan a glaring look as soon as I wiped the smile from my own face.
"Dad, we're going to head over to Babbage's to look for the new Sims CD-rom," Derek informed me.
"Who's gonna help me pick out the cool clothes?" Ephraim asked quickly.
"I will be with you," I replied.
"Like he said," Brendan quipped. "Who will help him find the cool clothes?"
"Peter, there you are." A woman was walking toward us determinedly. "I thought I told you to wait for me at the arcade?"
"Mom, this is my friend Ephraim and his dad," Peter introduced. "They asked me to join them. I stayed where I could see the door to the game room."
I stood as she neared the table. I extended my hand as I mentally sized this woman up. It was a good sign that she was concerned for her son, and had accepted his explanation of the situation. The question remained whether she was open-minded enough to handle the difficult truth of her son's real nature.
"Hello, I'm Cameron Ragland and these are my sons, Ephraim and Derek, and this is my brother, Brendan," I said smoothly.
"I'm Karen Walborn," she replied. She took my hand gracefully like a lady, but her hands were rough and dry. "I hope Peter hasn't been any trouble."
"Not at all," I assured her. "In fact, I have been having a very pleasant conversation with him. We have a lot in common."
"Peter has been so withdrawn, lately," Karen told me. "I'm glad to know that he talks to someone. I can hardly get a word out of him anymore." She turned to her son. "Peter, your sister still can't seem to find a dress for the Christmas banquet. I came to tell you that you can either come back to the store with us, or stay here at the arcade, but I don't have any more money to spare for games."
"Well, geeze, Mom," Peter said sarcastically. "Like I really want to stand around in the girl's formal section and listen to the two of you fight over how much breast should show."
"Peter!" Karen snapped. My three were polite enough to hide their smiles and stifle their giggles as best they could.
"Sorry," Peter mumbled.
"I'd be happy to offer another solution, if I may," I interjected. "As my older two charges have other plans, Ephraim was just complaining to me about my inability to choose the cool clothes. I'm sure he would appreciate it if Peter could join us."
"That would be great!" Ephraim exclaimed.
"Please, Mom!" Peter begged. "I promise my best behavior."
"Please, Mrs. Walborn," Ephraim added. "Save me from looking like a dork."
"I'm not that bad," I protested. Derek, Brendan, and Ephraim all turned and gave me a withering stare with questioning eyebrows raised. Karen chuckled and Peter laughed out loud.
"Well, Peter and Brooke both say the same thing about me," Karen admitted. "I would hate to go through life with a third poorly dressed teenager on my conscience."
"All right! Thanks, Mom," Peter exploded.
"Awesome!" Ephraim yelled.
Karen and I worked out details of when and where to meet back up after our shopping experiences. As we talked, I noticed where Peter's beautiful eyes had come from. For a woman, Karen was quite attractive, and Peter favored her strongly.
We all went our separate directions and I found it refreshing to see Peter and Ephraim getting to know one another. They were so cute together as they flirted back and forth, half the time without even being conscious of it. I only had to intervene once.
Ephraim was trying on a certain pair of jeans. Peter told him they made his butt look really hot. Although I agreed, I cautioned the boys about safety. Such remarks in public places make gays targets in private ones. They were a little more subdued after that.
It was a pleasant surprise when the boys discovered that Peter lived on a farm very near our own. In fact, the properties bordered each other over a part of the stream that ran along through the woods. Peter and Ephraim would attend the same school. Peter said they would be riding the bus together as well, but I was a little leery of Ephraim in that situation. I didn't want him to get hurt, and long bus rides through farm country was asking for trouble for a gay boy. I informed them that they would be able to carpool in the convertible. Needless to say, they both agreed to that proposition.
The time seemed to fly by. Long before the boys were ready, it was time to meet Peter's mom at the food court again. Their young faces fell into the lowest pits of despair. They looked at each other sadly, neither one wanting the day to end just yet.
"Excuse me, guys, but I don't see what you're this depressed over," I told them. "You live next door to each other. You will be in the same school on Monday. It's not like you'll never see each other again."
They brightened up at that. I still had to prompt them to exchange phone numbers, though. Ephraim thought of swapping email addresses and made that suggestion by himself.
"I don't have a computer," Peter said bashfully. "Mom says they are too expensive right now. My dad is out of work because of a car wreck."
"I'm very sorry to hear that, Peter," I told him. "What does your father do when he does work?"
"He works for a construction company," Peter answered. "He was up for a promotion to foreman when a drunk driver hit him. The guy didn't have insurance or even a license, but his dad is somebody rich. The jerk is claiming that the accident was Dad's fault, and the cops believe him because of his money."
"That's tough," Ephraim empathized. "You can come over to my house and use our computer when you need it."
"That would be cool!" Peter agreed. He spied his mother and waved her over. "Mom, Ephraim invited me over to use his computer. They live in the Whitfield place. If I went tomorrow, I could type my English report."
"Peter, honey," Karen scolded gently. "Did they say tomorrow was good for them, or are you inviting yourself?" Peter hung his head a bit and was about to answer when I interceded.
"Tomorrow is fine," I confirmed to the delight of both boys. "In fact, he could spend the day if he would like. Edan and I will be busy with the demolition of the kitchen. I am starting the remodeling in there. We'll just have take out pizza for lunch, if that is ok?"
"Is it ever! I love pizza!" Peter exclaimed.
"Name a twelve year old boy who doesn't," his mother said with a laugh.
"Why don't you boys run over to the arcade while we recuperate from shopping with you?" There was a stereo effect of "What'd we do?" but they ran off happily after I handed Ephraim a twenty. I turned to Karen and said, "I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee. I'm buying."
"Thank you, Cameron," Karen agreed. "That does sound good."
"Where's your daughter?" I asked, looking around.
"She went to the car to pout because she can't get the dress she wants," Karen replied sadly.
"Too revealing?" I guessed based on Peter's earlier comment.
"Too expensive," she responded. "My husband is out of work right now, so money is a bit tight. Kids don't always understand that so well."
We each got our coffee and moved to a table near the entrance of the arcade. I had chosen an iced drink and took an enormous swig. I hoped it would perform similar to alcohol and give me some liquid courage. I didn't exactly want to do what I knew to be the right thing.
"Karen, I have to tell you something very difficult for me," I began nervously. "I don't care what you think of me after this…. Well, that's not really true. I hope we become friends, but the choice is yours."
"Cameron, I am very happy with my husband," Karen interjected.
"I'm glad to hear that," I said, then realized what must have been going through her mind. "Oh my! I didn't mean for you…. I'm so sorry if I…."
"It's all right," Karen laughed with relief. "I'm sorry if I jumped to conclusions. Please continue."
"My fault entirely," I admitted. "I started poorly. What I need to tell you is that I am gay. I don't want you to get upset that your son would be coming to my home and you didn't know about me. I share the house with my life partner, Edan."
"I don't understand," Karen mumbled. "You said that Derek and Ephraim were your sons."
"They are my foster children, to be precise," I explained. "Edan and I are state approved foster parents."
"The boys, are any of them gay?" Karen queried. She was remaining remarkably calm. Either I was right, and she was dealing with it rationally, or she was in shock.
"Well, it's not really my place to discuss that without their permission," I answered.
"By refusing to answer, you have answered." She was a very intelligent woman. "I can be sure that at least one of them is. My guess is that it's Ephraim. I know Peter hopes he is." She saw the look of surprise on my face. "Yes, I know my son likes boys. He hasn't told me, yet, but I know."
"How do you feel about that?" I asked her.
"You want to know that I am ok with him being gay." She stated it rather than asked. "It hurts. It's not what I dreamed of for my little boy. I feel now all the pain he has yet to experience from bigotry and narrow-mindedness. I accept it because I have no choice or say in the matter. This is the way he was born to be. It's the fact that he hasn't talked to me about it that strikes the worst blow." She sighed thoughtfully, and then continued.
"I remember when he told me everything," Karen whispered. "He would come home from school and tell me about the yucky girls who tried to kiss him. He would talk about the new boy in his class and how much fun they had at recess avoiding the yucky girls. It wasn't hard for me to see where his interest was leading."
"I envy Peter for his relationship with you," I confessed. "I was never close to my mother."
"It is that closeness that drives me to protect Peter," Karen told me. "While I am hoping that you and your family will be of help to my son in an area where I cannot, I warn you. I may not know what Peter needs to figure out what is going on in his head, but I do know he doesn't need to be exploited in any way." She looked me directly in the eyes and spoke with the venom of a snake, the strength of a bear, and the convincing power of a mother.
"If I find out that either you or your partner have touched my son sexually, or have abused him or his rights in any way, there will be no place in heaven, earth, or hell that you can hide from me." Karen paused to let her words sink in. "Are we clear?"
"Crystal," I replied.
"Good," Karen smiled and sat back sipping her coffee. "You see I grew up on the farms where we live now. The Whitfield's were distant cousins of mine. I know the woods between and around our houses better than anyone. I think you understand me."
"I do indeed," I assured her. "Would you and your family like to come over to our place to get to know us better? I am preparing a little celebration meal tonight, and you're welcome to join us."
"I wouldn't want to intrude on a family event," she protested.
"The celebration is to mark the demolition of my kitchen tomorrow," I explained with a grin. "The present appearance looks like it predates the Mayflower."
"It can't be that bad," Karen scoffed. "That house was built around the same time as ours. That would put it just at the end of the Civil War."
"True," I admitted. "The kitchen actually looks like it was updated in the early seventies." Karen nodded, so I assumed I was correct.
"May I ask a somewhat personal question?" Karen leaned forward with interest as I nodded my assent and took another drink of my Café Carmel Chiller. "Is it true that all gay men are neat and tidy and into decorating? I mean, Peter is a little slob at home. I never could figure that out."
"Not all gay men are interior decorators, hair dressers, or clothing designers," I said after a good laugh. "Peter, gay or not, is still a fourteen year old boy. Brendan and Derek are typical teenage pigs around the house as well. Ephraim is obsessively neat and organized, but his biological parents forced him to be."
"So they are all gay," Karen mused aloud. I blushed at having said too much, but decided that it was better to put her mind at ease.
"Yes, Brendan and Derek are a couple," I acknowledged. "Brendan is my half-brother. I was unaware of his existence until only recently. We met by chance, or fate, and discovered our relationship later. He is my only living blood relative."
"I can only imagine what that is like," Karen said softly. "I've lived in the same house all my life and I think I'm kin to half the county." She paused and stared at me for a moment. "I think I would enjoy having dinner with you and your boys. I do have to check with my husband, of course. I'll be right back."
While she was gone, Brendan and Derek rejoined me. They had found the computer game, but were unwilling to pay the high price for it. I therefore resolved to buy it for them for Christmas.
Ephraim and Peter returned from the arcade about the same time that Karen came back from the pay phone. She was smiling pleasantly, but I didn't know her well enough to determine how the call had gone. She was about to speak when a girl of about 16 approached her.
"Mom," the girl began. "I'm sorry I behaved badly. I was being selfish. Could we go back and get the other dress? Michael says he could exchange the tie and cummerbund to match anything I get."
"Yes, sweetheart," Karen replied. "I thought he could. I'm very proud of you, you know." She looked toward us and said, "I'll be back. I want to talk to him about some of it in person, but he sounds agreeable. I think it's a go."
"What's a go?" Peter called, but she was already too far away to hear him.
"I have to talk to you guys about something," I began. "Peter, you and your family may be coming to our house for dinner this evening."
"YES!!" Peter and Ephraim exclaimed in unison. Peter's face immediately fell, however.
"If my parents find out about… everything, they will never let me see Ephraim again," he sighed.
"Dad, can't you tell them they can't come?" Derek asked. I was amazed at the level of brotherly protection he was extending to Ephraim.
"Think it through, guys," Brendan told them. "They would eventually find out anyway, and then the shit would hit the fan. Sorry, Cam," he added with a slight blush after I glared at his language
"Peter, your mother already knows that I am gay." All four boys stared at me in shock. "I told her. It is better to have secrets only from one's enemies. I would like for us to all be friends."
"How much did you tell her?" Brendan eyed me suspiciously.
"She knows the whole truth of our house," I confirmed. "I told her about me, and she guessed about you." I saw panic flash across the boys' faces. "May I remind you that she just said she wants to come over?" That settled the younger two a bit, but Brendan and Derek were still concerned. "You're not obvious. She is a very intelligent woman. Some questions are answered by no answer."
"She asked about us, and you didn't answer," Brendan voiced his thoughts aloud. "Your refusal to answer gave her the truth."
"Very good, grasshopper," I said, in my best impersonation of Mr. Miagi. "Now wash car."
"Only when I can drive it," Brendan retorted. The other boys all giggled.
"Peter, there are a couple of things you should know," I told him.
"You didn't tell her about me, did you?" the boy gasped.
"No, she told me," I replied.
"WHAT?" Peter went so pale that I thought he would faint. I had noticed that he and Ephraim were holding hands during the conversation. Their grip tightened.
"First, public displays of affection, while very sweet, are also very dangerous," I informed them. "Second, your mother has known that you are gay for some time. She is hurt that you haven't talked with her about it. Remember what I said. Secrets are to be kept only from an enemy." I rested one hand on Peter's shoulder gently and advised, "I recommend discussing this with your parents as soon as you get home. Your mother has to talk to your father about dinner tonight anyway. It will be easier for her and easier on him if he has the whole story at once."
"I understand," Peter murmured. He looked at Ephraim and added, "I will call you after to let you know how it goes."
Ephraim nodded, and then asked, "Will you be ok?"
"I should think he will be fine," I assured them both. "Peter's mother has had time to accept the truth, and it didn't change how she feels toward him."
"Dad won't cross Mom," Peter announced. "He knows she can outfight him right now, and she's always saying that she knows where to hide the bodies," he added with a grin.
"Remind me to stay on your mom's good side," Brendan joked.
"Just don't tear down the old log cabin by the spring pond," Karen whispered in his ear. "I helped build it."
Brendan jumped and whirled around, and so did the other boys. After a good laugh at my baby brother, the Walborn's left for home and a long talk with Dad. We went back to our own farm to start cooking. I had already begun my baking for the holidays with Ephraim's help, so dessert for the evening was more than adequately covered. Dinner would consist of Japanese Stir Fry Vegetables with Beef served over rice.
Peter, Brooke, Karen, and Dan Walborn arrived a little early for dinner. Edan and the older boys kept them entertained as I finished up in the kitchen. Ephraim was my official cook's assistant, so that meant that when Peter got there, I had two helpers. His mother was astounded. His sister told her that the secret wasn't the new place; it was the cute boy. Ephraim and Peter both blushed furiously and ran into the kitchen.
Once we were all seated in the dining room, I had the chance to get to know my neighbors and guests a little better. Dan and Karen were both two years older than me. Dan was polite enough not to bring up delicate matters at the table, but I knew he had questions. We did discuss his injuries, though. I could tell that he was in pain just from the minor movements necessary for eating.
"A rich college kid with a politically connected father ran a red light while driving drunk," Dan explained. "He plowed into me broadside. My back has been messed up ever since."
"When and where did this accident occur?" Edan asked with interest.
"College Ave and Burns St.," Dan answered. "It was about 6 o'clock in the evening on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving."
"You were driving a gray Ford truck," Edan supplied. "You were traveling along Burns St. and Ritchie Hartman struck you from College Ave."
"How did you know that?" Dan asked wide-eyed.
"I saw it happen out my office window," Edan replied. "Ritchie had just left after begging and then trying to bribe me not to flunk him."
"You saw it?" Dan repeated. "The police said there were no witnesses. It was my word against his and his daddy's. The case was closed. They even said the kid wasn't drunk, but he sure acted like it."
"There they are correct," Edan informed Dan. "Ritchie wasn't drunk; he was as high as a space shuttle. The drugs he was on are what he tried to bribe me with."
"I knew he wasn't straight… I mean sober," Dan announced. "Sorry. I have been given one too many news flashes today, I guess."
"You seem to be handling things very well, Dan," I told him.
"Thank you, but I believe a lot of the credit is due to the pain killers," Dan admitted. "Speaking of which, I am due to take another. Karen, could I have the bottle, please?"
"I don't have them. I thought you did," she confessed.
"I told you to grab them," Dan grumbled. "I should have made sure you could hear me over the kids."
"I could drive home and get them for you," Brooke offered. Her parents both glared at her. "Ok, ok, it was just a suggestion."
"Maybe I can help," I offered. "Dan, stand up for a minute." I walked around the table and placed my hands on the appropriate points and exerted just a bit of quick pressure. Dan jerked, and then slowly turned his head to each side and swung his arms.
"The pain is gone!" Dan exclaimed.
"Actually, it is still there," I told him. "I just blocked the relays that let your brain know that your back is hurting. It is only temporary."
"Hey why didn't you do that for me?" Brendan pouted. "Some big brother you are."
"Dan doesn't whine about his pain, as you did," I retorted. "We gave you the pills so you would sleep and be quiet." Everyone laughed except Brendan. "This is a tricky thing to do, Bren. Too much pressure, and Dan would lose all communication from his body and be paralyzed temporarily. Pressure in the wrong spot would shut off the flow of blood to his brain."
"Where did you learn that?" Derek asked.
"Fighting is only a part of martial arts," I quoted my old master. "Always there is balance. They are called 'arts' because there is more than one. If there is fighting, then there must also be healing." We sat back down to finish our meal, and Karen started a new conversation.
"Edan and the boys were telling us that you decorated this room yourself, Cameron," she said. "It looks wonderful."
"Thank you," I replied. "I only hope the kitchen will turn out as well."
"Will it have a similar theme?" Karen asked.
"No, actually I was hoping for a look that is age appropriate to the house, yet modern in function," I explained. "I am afraid I will settle for a fifties diner atmosphere, though. I don't believe I can pull the other off."
"Why not?" Brooke questioned. "You made this room look fabulous."
"We're afraid of biting off more than we can chew," Edan answered. "I have the tools to do a lot of the work, but I am not good enough to rebuild cabinetry like what he wants."
"I would be glad to help out as much as I can," Dan offered. "I've done a good bit of cabinet work."
"I am going to help you out, as well," Edan told him. "I am going to call a friend of ours who is an attorney. She'll get your accident reinvestigated, and I will testify to all that I saw. Ritchie's father will be throwing money at you before you know it."
"I like the sound of that," Dan confessed. "We could take a look at the kitchen after dinner, if you'd like. It may not be as complicated as you think."
"That would be a relief," I grinned. "The boys might have been looking forward to takeout for a couple of weeks, but I sure wasn't."
I couldn't help thinking how well we were all getting along. I also wondered if I would ever live to see a day where all gays and straights could coexist this peacefully and pleasantly. Dan and Karen were turning into more than just good neighbors; they were becoming great friends. My thoughts were interrupted by Ephraim's voice.
"Could I take Peter and show him my room?" he asked shyly.
"We know what you want to show him," Brendan teased.
"Brendan, it is not polite to make fun of the children on their first date," I decreed with a muffled giggle of my own.
"Children!" Ephraim yelled.
"First date?" Peter added. "With my parents… Yikes!"
"You haven't eaten much, Ephraim," Edan pointed out.
"Neither have you, Peter," Karen added.
"The boy's been off his feed for months and now you worry about it?" Dan asked her. "At least now we know why."
"If it's all right with the Walborn's, it's ok with me," Edan acquiesced to the pair of sad little puppy eyes leveled on him.
"Thanks, Pop," Ephraim beamed.
"I would rather you eat some more, Peter," Karen told her son.
"Oh, let him go, honey," Dan said. "I may not understand his particular kind of love, but I remember my first crush."
"You're the greatest, Dad," Peter called as the boys bounded up the stairs.
"I believe I am jealous of that boy," I confessed. "My parents and I did not have a close relationship."
"At least you got to meet dear old Daddy," Brendan pointed out coldly.
"Better to have no dad than one like mine," Derek reminded him. They shared a quick hug, and then parted, apologizing for the public display of affection.
"You don't have to say you're sorry on our account," Dan told them. "It's your house. Besides, I'm sure you won't do anything in front of me that the two upstairs won't at some point." He paused, and then added, "I should apologize if I have touched off a sore subject."
"Dan, it wasn't your fault," Edan informed him. "There is a lot of bigotry and hatred in the world. The sad fact is that most gays learn that lesson at home, on the day they come out to their families."
"My old man wanted me to be bisexual," Derek remembered aloud. "I could make him more money on the street that way."
"Your father sold you?" Dan whispered in shock. "I can't imagine ever wanting to hurt Peter. I remember how proud I was when I first saw him in the delivery room." A tear came to his eye as he spoke. "Karen had a difficult time with him. He was a c-section baby. He had trouble breathing at first. When they finally brought him to me and put him in my arms, the first thing he did was to wrap his tiny little hand around my rough, scratchy finger as tight as he could. I made a vow to him then and there that I would never stop loving him, and I would never stop being his daddy, no matter what. I wanted to be as good a father to him as mine had been to me."
"Your father has passed away?" Edan asked.
"Yes," Karen confirmed. "We lost him just a few months after we were married."
"I am sorry to hear of your loss," I told them. "I never knew any of my grandparents. I was born in Japan at the base hospital, and all of my grandparents died while we were there. When we moved back to the US, there were only my parents, my uncle, and I. I lost all of them within the last year. It wasn't until after they were all gone that I discovered my long, lost baby brother."
"BABY!" Brendan protested.
"Well, in his defense, he is only a baby when he is hurt," I laughed.
"I don't have to take this," Brendan announced. "Come on, Derek. Let's take our dessert upstairs."
"Teenagers are all the same," Karen observed. "It's like they can't make up their minds whether to be a toddler or an adult, so they switch back and forth."
"Mother, how rude!" Brooke whined.
"You mean how true," Dan corrected.
I got up to serve the dessert and caught Brendan and Derek coming back out of the kitchen. I asked them to discreetly check on the younger boys. I cautioned them against spying, though.
"We know," Derek told me. "You just don't want them getting too serious too fast."
"Specifically, I don't want to get Karen mad at me," I grinned.
"Never thought I'd find myself protecting a virgin's honor," Brendan said with a laugh. They went upstairs and I served the cake to the others. Suddenly, the whole house started to shake and echo as if a herd of wild horses were loose on the stairs. We looked up to see Peter and Ephraim rejoining us.
"Brendan and Derek had cake," they said in chorus, as they slid to a halt beside their chairs.
"They also did not tear the house apart by storming through like a charging bull moose," Karen informed them icily. They hung their heads and muttered apologies.
"Well, I guess hunger is more powerful than hormones," Dan laughed. Both boys blushed furiously.
The Walborn's stayed a little while longer. Ephraim took Brooke and Peter upstairs to show them the computer. Karen and Dan looked around the kitchen and laundry room. Dan inspected my drawings of what I wanted to do and made a few suggestions that would make the job a lot easier.
"These are better quality than some of the architects I have worked with lately," Dan complimented while holding my blueprints. "You're doing very well."
"I've been a draftsman for several years, but this is a bit of a change for me," I told him. "I was in commercial engineering."
"That would explain the attention to detail that I see in these," he said. "Well, I look forward to working with you. You have a good grasp of what is and is not possible. That's a rare commodity in architects."
"So I have been told by all of my engineering friends," I agreed with a laugh.
Karen and Dan decided that it was time to go. The younger generation assembled at the bottom of the stairs. Brooke and her parents said their goodbyes and headed for the car. Peter hung around for a bit. Derek and Brendan went back upstairs. Edan and I made our way to the living room, but I was still able to see a tender goodnight kiss out of the corner of my eye. (Ok, I was spying, but Dad's are allowed.)
Peter left and Ephraim floated into the living room. The boy looked like a scene from "Bambi". He was totally twitterpated. His eyes were half open as were his lips. I wondered for a moment if he was going to remember the necessity of breathing. He sat down next to me on the couch and laid his head in my lap.
"He kissed me," Ephraim whispered. "I've never been kissed by a boy before."
"So was it good for you?" Edan joked.
"It was incredible," the boy sighed happily. "I never imagined anything like it. It was like Christmas, New Year's, the Fourth of July, and my birthday all in one, only better." Ephraim sighed again, and then yawned.
"It's been a long, full day, kiddo," I told him as I stroked his cheek softly. "Why don't you go on up to bed? Peter will be back tomorrow to work on his English paper." I looked him directly in the eye as I continued to speak. "He has to finish the paper, so no nookie until the work is done. Ok?"
"What's nookie?" the boy asked innocently.
"Nookie is what you did tonight," Edan explained.
"There will be no kissing, no holding hands, or anything else, until I see a finished term paper," I instructed.
"Yes, sir," he agreed. "Goodnight, Dad, goodnight, Pop." We each got our evening peck on the cheek and watched as he trotted upstairs.
"Young love is a beautiful thing," I sighed. I was thinking of how happy Peter and Ephraim had looked earlier.
"Our love is not that old, you know," Edan reminded me. "The boys are cute, but you are beautiful." He kissed me on the cheek and then began nuzzling and nibbling my neck. "Let's forget the TV tonight."
"Mmmm…" I couldn't manage any more complex communication with his mouth on mine.
"You are the best lover in the world," I told him later, as I ran my fingers through the jungle of hair on his chest.
"No, you are," he contradicted. "I have never felt the way that you make me feel. I do things with you that I haven't been able to do in years." He paused, and then added, "You make me young again."
"Good," I told him firmly. "I don't want you getting any ideas about dying and leaving me."
"Even if I die, I will never leave you," Edan promised. "Galileo was half right. The earth is not the center of the universe; you are."
"I love you, Edan," I whispered as I yawned. Edan's reply was the last words I heard before drifting off to dream world.
"And I love you, my Cammy."