Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 9

(Setting: Kinnetik's Office/Tuesday afternoon following the "Big Birthday Weekend"/ POV: Emmett)

"Hi, Cynthia, how are you, you look great, I'm fine, yes, the weekend was fabulous, and yes, wasn't it terrible about Danny getting hurt, but enough small talk, don't want to be rude but that's why I needed to barge in here all in a tizzy ... Danny that is, not small talk ... or being rude," I didn't give Cynthia a chance to respond, but continued without even taking a breath myself. "Is there any chance I could be granted an audience with King Kinney for a few moments?" I swept past Brian's blonde bombshell, (female version), and tried to peer into his office; it's so hard to see through the glazed glass that encases it! I couldn't tell if he was inside or not.

"Nice to see you, too, Emmett." Cynthia, to her credit, did not look the slightest bit put out by my admittedly abrupt entry. "Brian is with Ted in the conference room, going over some accounts. I don't think he'd mind if you interrupted them. Is everything okay with Danny? We haven't heard anything other than that he was discharged Monday and was to take it easy for several days. Brian spoke to Jamie yesterday and was told the family was taking turns looking after him."

"The family!" I sniffed. "They'll be the death of him if someone doesn't do something soon. I tried, but of course they won't listen to me. Apparently Jamie has shifts at the hospital for the next day and a half and isn't available to help. The other men are leaving it to their women and they're driving the poor boy to distraction; I think he'll lapse into a coma just to get some peace and quiet!"

Cynthia laughed. I stomped my foot at her. "You think I'm kidding? You didn't spend any time with those O'Keefe women on Saturday other than Mary Pat; trust me, the others aren't like her. Take me to Brian! I need to see him right away; he has to rescue Danny!"

Cynthia continued smiling but she did lead me to the conference room and open the door. Brian and Teddy were there, sleeves rolled up, intently looking at what seemed to be masses of papers spread on the table in front of them. I hesitated briefly but then plunged right in. When a friend is in need, Emmett Honeycutt does not shrink back. Well, maybe I did a little shrinking back when Brian leveled that glare of his at me, but I still went forward.

"Well if it isn't the former Mrs. Theodore Schmidt. What do you want? Theodore is here so he can't be in jail again. What other reason could you possibly have for visiting my humble establishment, Mrs. Schmidt? Is Theodore behind in his alimony? We can garnish his wages if you'd like but I believe I'd need to see a proper court order." Brian cocked an amused eyebrow at me. I really wish I could master that trick, but years of practice have never given me the ability. Both of these old eyebrows of mine insist on going up; mine must be connected under the skin in a way his aren't.

"I'm here on a different mission of mercy, actually, and for one of your friends, although I hope he's becoming one of mine, too," I began. Suddenly I was a little unsure of myself; looking into that mocking Kinney face tends to do that to a person.

"What's up, Em?" Teddy tried to help me. "We're kind of busy here. If it isn't important, maybe you could discuss it with Brian later, at Woody's?" He smiled encouragingly. I bit my lip.

"Brian, Emmett came to you about Danny, so you and Ted can stop what you're doing, take a break and listen to what he has to say. Danny is in some kind of trouble and Emmett couldn't fix it. He came all the way down here to get your help so stop treating him like that. Do you want me to get some coffee for everyone so we can hear what he has to say?" Cynthia quietly but firmly took control of the situation while I floundered. I love that woman.

The change in Brian was instantaneous. His tone was incisive, no-nonsense. "What the fuck is the problem? I thought he was doing fine?" His gaze pinned me down. Suddenly I felt guilty even though it certainly wasn't my fault. I sat on one of the conference room chairs.

"I stopped by his townhouse last night after he got home, to bring him a cake. You know how he mentioned Sunday morning that he liked chocolate cake so much and I thought it would be a nice gesture." Brian's stare was burning through me so I hurried to get to the point.

"The place was over-run with kids and O'Keefe women. He looked like crap but there was so much noise in the place there was no way he would be able to get any rest. He was sitting in the living room trying to stop them from trashing the place, since none of the women was doing the least thing to prevent their kids from running wild all over the place. His niece, little Briana, was huddled up next to him, terrified of the bigger children. I helped him get her settled into bed for the night, again since none of the women offered any help and he was too sick to do it alone. It was chaos there. Once in a while, one of them would tell him to get some rest, but then they would ask him for something, and even asked him to wait on them! You could tell he was afraid to leave them alone with his things. I ended up making them all dinner. The really ironic part is that every time he asked them to leave, they would tell him they couldn't because he needed them to take care of him! Every so often he would leave the room to vomit, poor thing, which apparently was from the concussion. You could tell that all the noise and commotion from the TV and kids and chattering women was making him feel worse."

"Well, fuck, why couldn't he just kick them out, insist that they leave? It's his house." Teddy asked, perplexed.

"You have to know the O'Keefe women, especially the in-laws," Brian interjected. "They truly think that illness is 'family time,' and to their minds, they are helping by being there. Only a very few of them know how to be a practical help, however, and those few probably know that Danny would rather be alone and are doing just that, leaving him alone. Sounds like they forgot to make sure to keep the rest away. His Dad used to be in charge of that part of it. Maybe he is better today, though. He expected this onslaught, Em, and did tell me he would call if he needed me to chase them away. I haven't heard from him so I would suspect that things have worked themselves out by now."

"No, Brian, today he is much worse. He can barely get out of bed. I stopped by before coming over here. One of the sisters took Briana to pre-school and Danny is in terrible shape. When I left, there were three women and six kids at his townhouse; the stereo and TV were blasting, he was closed up in his room, crawling back and forth between the bathroom and the bed, and he hasn't kept anything down since leaving the hospital. Plus, he is stressing out about the condition of his house so badly I think he needs to be sedated. Except, I don't think you can sedate someone who is suffering from a head injury." I thought about this for a moment while the storm clouds gathered on Brian's face. I decided to add some more fuel to the fire, which I realize is mixing my metaphors a bit, but I was upset.

"One of the his brother's demon spawn was even playing Danny's electronic keyboard, and all I could get out of that poor injured sweetie was that if he lived, he was killing that kid." Brian and Teddy grinned at that, but then, they hadn't seen poor Danny. I had, plus I could understand. If some teenager had gotten into all of my expensive cooking equipment when I was in no condition to fight them off and starting playing with it recklessly, denting it and ruining finishes, I think I would be in the mood for murder as well.

"He isn't used to feeling helpless, I suppose." Cynthia commented softly. She knew how to press Brian's buttons better than I did, I had to hand that to her.

Brian looked at her, his face thoughtful. "No, I would guess not. He must hate this. And he has always been very particular about his stuff; his books and music arranged just so, CDs and sheet music. If those kids have messed all of that up, it will be a massive amount of work to fix it. It will require someone really anal compulsive, someone who knows music, someone with the ability to do really boring tasks...."

Everyone turned and looked at Teddy.

"Blake and I were going to go out to dinner and the opera tonight." Ted protested.

"I guess we had better hurry then." Brian smiled. "I would guess that Danny has an extensive music collection. Do you want to call Blake to join us there after work?" Ted sighed, gave up on protesting, and asked me for the address. He said he would pick up Blake and meet us there a little later, but he expected me to fix us all something nice to eat at the very least. I assured him it was a deal. He didn't have to know now it would be a variation on Gramdma Honeycutt's chicken soup. Brian told Cynthia to clear his calendar for the rest of the day and to cancel his dinner plans with Michael and Ben. He threw his arm around my shoulder and led me out the door of Kinnetik, grabbing his laptop on the way.

"Okay, Auntie Em, lead on, we're off to see the Wicked Witches and clear out the flying monkeys. The Scarecrow and his twink will meet up with us over there."

"And which character, pray tell, are you supposed to be?" I asked, curious.

"Hmm, a difficult question to answer; I really do not find myself relating to any of them. I am a bit of a charlatan, so the Wizard would be a possibility, however, the character without a heart would be the obvious choice, I suppose. He is a little too rotund, however, for me to contemplate assuming that role; for that matter, the lack of fashion sense exhibited by all of the characters makes it not quite my movie for role-playing purposes. And the concept of someone wanting to get back home, you understand, was never something I could relate to." Brian dropped his arm from my shoulder. "So, the kid seemed to be in pretty bad shape, damn him, he did promise to call if he needed anything. I made sure he had all of my numbers." Brian's brows were knit together as we reached his car and climbed into it.

"I am not sure he is in any shape at this point to be dialing phone numbers, much less looking them up. I asked him this morning if he wanted me to get anyone and he just said he wanted everyone out. He gave me that sweet smile of his and said he didn't mean me, that I had been very helpful, but that he needed some rest and he couldn't get any between the headaches and the noise. At that point he had to rush off to vomit some more so I crept out after turning down the soup I left on the stove to simmer. Of course, by the time I get back, the mob will probably have eaten it all." I grimaced. "I don't understand how they can act that way, can't they see that he is sick?"

"You must understand big families, Em, don't you come from a hundred kids yourself?" Brian glanced over and gave me a smirk.

I thought about it for a minute. To some extent, that was true. If it weren't for my Grandma Honeycutt running things, folks would get out of hand, especially when a new baby was born and the mother needed her rest. The whole family descended on them and did more harm than good if a firm hand were not exercised. Half the time, if some medical or other disaster struck, people were looking for gossip more than to help. My Granny tended to take over and dictated who was to do what. If you weren't there to work, willing to take orders, you were quickly shown the door. At times, people were shown the door anyway, if she decided that was the best thing for the person in question. Casseroles and cakes could be left at the neighbor's house and picked up as needed.

"You're right, but in every big family, there is someone usually who runs things and who everybody listens to. If that was Danny's father, what are you going to do?" I saw a grin spread across Brian's face.

"I am going to fetch the person that Danny's father listened to, naturally."

****************************************************************************

(Setting:O'Keefe Home/POV:Emmett)

We pulled up in front of a sprawling old brick house, with a tree filled front yard, in one of the older residential sections of Pittsburgh. Demographically, Michael and Brian had grown up in one of the poorer areas of the city, what had once been lower-middle class and now was probably upper-lower, although it still seemed pretty nice compared to what I had been used to back home. Justin had been from one of the wealthiest sections of the city. This section was squarely in the middle class, like the type of home you see on a TV show, but with a few additions added on to accommodate the "cheaper by the dozen" size family Danny came from.

"Brian, who are we getting?" I whispered as we approached the beautifully kept house. Brian had a funny smile on his face as he stood for a moment in the yard, just staring up at the house.

"I haven't been here in over a dozen years, no, I take that back, I did come back once, for Angel's funeral, damn, that was a God awful day. I was away when their Dad died and didn't hear about it until later. I felt terrible about missing the viewing and funeral. That is an unforgivable thing to do when you are Irish, you know. One always makes it to the viewings, Em." Brian was getting into one of his fey moods. I had to break him out of it or the next thing I knew, we would be at Woody's, he would be getting drunk, and we would never make it to Danny's.

"Brian, Danny is vomiting his guts out, kids are trashing his home, women are driving him crazy; he needs you to drive the monkeys and witches out, remember?"

"What? Yeah, right." Brian shook his head and walked up the drive, stepping onto the wraparound porch. He rang the bell.

After a few minutes, a tiny lady, whose eyes were the same bright green as Danny's, whose hair was a soft gray, which she wore in gentle, still thick curls that fell just past her ears, opened the door.

"Is it Brian Kinney I am seeing?" she exclaimed, in a delighted tone, reaching out to clasp Brian close. He quickly grabbed at the screen door with one arm as he hugged Mrs. O'Keefe with the other. I held the door for him so he could put both arms around the little lady. "Look at you now! More handsome than ever, and still the playboy I am hearing!"

"Who has been telling tales of me to you, Mama Rose? I demand to know names! And you are more beautiful than ever, I might add. If ever there were a woman who could tempt me...." Brian smiled down at her.

The elegant little woman actually snorted at that; quite frankly, I almost did too. "My Danny uses that line on women too, but at least in his case, he will actually give the woman a try-out, which, come to think of it, I don't know if that is to his credit, given that the poor dears never do have a real chance with the boy, now do they?" She tilted her head to the side, as though giving the matter thought, as Brian and I burst out laughing. She looked at me pointedly, and Brian quickly introduced me.

"Mama Rose, this is my friend, Emmett Honeycutt, he has been by to visit Danny since he's been injured, and we have come by to see you because I think you will be disturbed when you hear what Emmett has to say." She looked at me closely with her bright, inquisitive face, and then invited us both in.

We walked into the brightly decorated living room. The walls were covered with school pictures and other photographs of the numerous O'Keefe children and their parents. A beautiful wedding picture of a young Rose with her tall handsome husband especially caught my eye. They looked so much in love. There were two other photographs that stood out, one of a steely-eyed Green Beret, his shaven head making him look so different on a wall of people with wavy black hair. He was an extremely handsome man, sterner looking than the other brothers, with an arrogant tilt to his chin. Danny had shown that look on the soccer field at times when trying to intimidate the other players, I had noticed. This obviously had been Luke.

The other picture was clearly a replica of a magazine cover; it showed Danny and a beautiful woman who looked enough like him to have been his twin. They were posed with his arms around her, both appearing bare from the waist up, glancing smolderingly over their shoulders at the camera at a three quarter angle. The caption read, "Madison Avenue's Dark Angels Move to Broadway." It was a very hot picture. I wondered about the lost Angel, Briana's mother. Edging closer to the picture, I could see that the cover was dated about eight years ago; Danny would have been barely twenty old, if that. Brian saw my interest and frowned. I quickly moved away. The subject of Angel was off limits, it seemed.

"Well, and I am that glad to meet you, Emmett. Sit with me and have some cookies and cake, please. I'll be back with them in a moment, I just finished with my baking, that's what took me so long to answer the door." We waited in silence until Rose came out of the kitchen with a tray of cake and cookies, a pitcher of milk and some glasses, which Brian quickly took from her. I glanced over at him to see what he was going to do about the beverage offered. To my amazement, he simply poured us each a glass and began to drink it while nibbling a cookie. Now I love a glass of milk with a piece of chocolate cake but I am not as obsessive as Brian is about my weight. The milk was ice cold and most certainly was not skim; it was delicious. Rose turned to me.

"It's a sweet notion you took to visit Danny, to be sure, Emmett, but to tell you the truth, our Danny does not care for visitors when he's feeling poorly. It would be much kinder of you to wait until he is feeling better for your visits. Why, except for a quick visit at the hospital just to take a peek at him, I have not even been to see him meself, because I know how he is when he is sick. He is like a bear with a sore paw and that is the Lord's truth. We are only allowing little Briana to go over in bits and spurts because she would fuss so if kept from him too long and it would upset him to know she was upset. Even then, I only allow her to go over when there is someone else to stay with her and they are given instructions to take strict charge of her so he is not worn out taking care of her."

Brian looked grim. "Well, Mama Rose, I was pretty sure you would have made arrangements like that, but the problem is, the rest of the family is not leaving him as alone as they should. He has been having non-stop visitors since he got home from the hospital, and the only one who has helped with Briana so far from what I can tell is Em here. Danny has asked the others to leave and they simply won't listen to him."

I watched in fascination, as the sweet little old lady in front of me turned into a fire breathing she-wolf. Her green eyes glittered and her nostrils flared. "Are you telling me," she snapped, "that those wenches my sons married have been over there?"

"Well, in all fairness, so has Mary Fran."

Mama Rose snorted. "That one, she probably was made to go by Carol. Mary Fran doesn't use the brain the good Lord gave her sometimes. Tell me they at least had the sense to leave their brats at home. The younger ones do not know how to behave and Danny cannot tolerate an ill-behaved child around his things."

Brian sat back and hid a smile. He nodded at me, a signal to tell me tale.

"Well, I hate to tell you this but both times I was there, I counted at least six children there, not including Briana, and they were getting into Danny's musical equipment and CDs, which was upsetting him quite a bit."

"I should think so!" His mother exclaimed. "His CDs are not just for pleasure, he uses them for reference. Music is how he makes his living, and his instruments, Good Lord; those things are not toys for children to be playing with! The poor lamb, he must be worn to the bone."

"There was a vase that got broken that meant quite a bit to him," I added for good measure, but was sorry as those pretty green eyes immediately started to tear up.

"Not his good Waterford vase! His Da and I gave that to him for his twenty-fifth birthday! It was Danny's last birthday that he had his Da with him. He always kept it filled with flowers. Oh dear." Mama Rose started searching for a tissue. Brian quickly pulled out a handkerchief, surprising me; I didn't think men carried such things anymore. He sat down next to her and held her close.

"Hush, Mama Rose. We will get a replacement. It won't be the same, but you can give it to Danny and it will be a little bit of a comfort to him, okay?"

"But I canna, Brian, it was a very expensive vase, and things are tight without Patrick. Although Danny helps me out quite a bit, I canna very well buy him a present with his own money now, can I? And I hate to ask the others for it, they just don't understand why Danny and I like things like that, and I know he would hate it if I asked them for it, although I guess I could ask Jamie." She looked down at her hands, which she was twisting in her lap.

"You are not going to ask Jamie. We are going to order the vase, once you tell me where you got it. The store probably knows exactly what model it was and we will have it delivered, or we can pick it up along with some flowers on the way to Danny's, and you will let me pay for it." Rose started to protest but Brian held a finger up.

"Not a word. You never let me do anything to thank you for all the care packages you sent me in college and all the meals you fed me during my many visits here. I know what you are going to say, that of course no thanks were needed, and I know that you didn't do it expecting repayment, the truth is, nothing could ever repay you for what it meant to me at the time so the least you can do is let me do this for you now because it would make me happy. I am sorry it can't bring the original vase back. And while I am at it, let me say that words cannot express how sorry I am that I didn't learn of Patrick's death until after I got back from a business trip, but you know how highly I thought of him. Please let me do this in his memory as well as my way of thanking both of you for your kindness to a skinny college soccer player, for treating him like one of your own boys for a while."

There were tears in my eyes as I watched the stud of Liberty Avenue hold this little gray haired Irish lady so tenderly; I was pretty sure there were tears in Brian's eyes too as Rose nodded her acceptance of his offer, tears running freely down her cheeks. We called the department store where the original purchase was made, and indeed, they had a record of the sale. Brian arranged for the vase to be delivered later that afternoon directly to Danny's townhouse, as we did not want to delay getting there in order to pick it up. We did stop at a florist and I ran in to pick up a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers.

It was close to four when we pulled up at the complex where Danny's townhouse was located. Mary Fran's large Suburban and two minivans belonging to two of the sister-in-laws were parked in front, taking up all of the spaces nearby. Brian dropped Mama Rose and me off in front and instructed us to wait by the bottom of the stairs that led to Danny's third floor entrance. His place was two stories inside, and while I assumed there was a service elevator somewhere, I had no idea where it was located. When I had joked about being worn out from walking up all those steps the day before, Briana had told me in her serious little voice that I should get Danny to carry me like he always carried her and Mama Rose. I suspected Brian had the same plan in mind, for Mama Rose, not me, unfortunately.

"Okay, Mama Rose, your chariot awaits," he smiled, and put out his arms. Rose looked at him hesitantly, and then at the long flights of stairs. "You are a slight lad, Brian, are you sure you can carry me all that way? You don't have the muscle to you that my Danny does and I know you were sick last year." I had to laugh at the indignant look on Brian's face. Rose O'Keefe probably weighed all of seventy-five pounds, if that and I knew that Brian was a lot stronger than he looked. But then, it was a long way up.

"Your sources are good, Mama Rose, you get both reports on my playboy status and my health, you are going to have to tell me how you do that after we get Danny settled." Mama Rose giggled at him and he stopped glowering. Brian winked at her. "I'll tell you what, if it looks like I am flagging, we will take a break in the middle, okay? Plus, Emmett here can carry your purse; it won't be the first time he has carried one. But there is no way I am letting you walk up those stairs, Mama Rose, I have my sources too and I know about your heart condition! Now, no more fuss, up you go." With that, he bent down and whisked her up. He started up the steps at a brisk pace, quickly reaching the top, where she pointed to the correct door at which to stop.

By prearrangement, instead of Mama Rose using the key she had for emergencies, Brian rapped sharply on the door. It was opened by a rumpled looking boy of about eleven years old.

"Gramma Rose! What are you doing here?" He yelped, then looked guiltily at the guitar in his hand. Rose brushed past the boy, pushing him into the door. Brian and I followed, sharing gleeful looks.

"Never mind that, Joshua Jacob, where is your mother? And what is it you think you are doing with your Uncle Danny's guitar, it's not for letting you play it, I am thinking, that he keeps it put away in a special case over there in his music room. You have not been in that music room, have you?"

"Well, uh, let me get my mom for you, Gramma Rose." The boy ran off. "Mom, Gramma's here!" He bellowed at a volume that made all of us wince. There was no sign of Danny.

"You put that guitar back and do not touch another single thing, you hear me? And keep your voice down." Mama Rose had a way of pitching her voice to make it carry without raising it, very much like Danny did, actually. She stood surveying the shambles of her son's home with her hands held over her mouth. Brian looked around, expressionless. Glasses and plates were on every flat surface, while fast food wrappers were strewn on the floor. Spills had occurred of food and liquids that had not been cleaned up. Two toddlers were asleep on the sofa despite the blaring TV. Brian clicked it off.

"They would not treat their own homes this way," she whispered. "Carol is a lawyer's wife, for pity's sake, doesn't she know how to clean up a spill? And I know Mark's wife, Lynn, knows better. She worked at the bars with him when she was young, she knows how to work hard, though she doesn't have to now."

"It isn't a matter of never knowing how," Brian commented, "Carol has probably had cleaning ladies for so long if she ever did know, she forgot, or would like to pretend she has, and Lynn isn't going to do any work when the lawyer's wife isn't."

"Well my daughter has no excuse and should be ashamed of herself if the other two aren't. And where are they I would like to be knowing? Keep me waiting will they?" Mama Rose was growing angrier by the minute. "And where is my poor boy?"

Just then the three women came down from the upper level, laughing. They stood stock still, seeing the diminutive Rose O'Keefe glaring up at them. Carol O'Keefe spoke.

"Mama, when did you get here? Do you think that it was wise of you to take all those stairs? There was no need for you to go to all that trouble! We have been taking care of your Danny for you. Why, we have been with him for two days now!" She spoke gaily; it was clear from her slightly slurred words that she had been hitting the bottle. The other two, especially Mary Fran, looked sheepish. Mama Rose looked sternly at the women, her arms folded militantly across her chest.

"So I understand. Where are the rest of the children? I see two of them sleeping in the midst of this mess. I sent Joshua to put back one of Danny's guitars, which I am sure you are well aware is an expensive instrument and not something for a child to be playing with who does not know how to handle it properly. Before I find out what you were doing upstairs, where you had no business snooping, and believe me, I will find out what you were doing, I want those ill mannered and uncontrolled children of yours rounded up! From the looks of this place I know there must be more of them around. Where are they and what are they doing? Getting into mischief from what I see, like their mothers! I want them and you out of here immediately. But first, answer me this, where is my son, the one you have been so tenderly caring for?" The sarcasm was thick in the air.

Carol gulped and looked at her cohorts in crime. They looked down at their feet.

AS if on cue, the sounds of vomiting could be heard from Danny's room. Brian and I murmured our excuses and left Mama Rose to finish clearing out the Philistines.

**********************************************************************

POV: Danny

I was pretty sure I was going to die. My head felt like it was about to split open, but it never actually did it; it just kept teetering on the fucking point of explosion. I had reached the end of my rope and actually prayed for my own external hammer so I could bash my skull in, smash the little hammer inside, and finish the job just to end the pain. That was around Tuesday morning. Before that, I was pretty sure that if I had any type of blunt instrument I would bash in the head of any one of my nephews who wandered within reach, and after that, my sister, and each of those bitches my brothers married. I entertained myself for quite half an hour composing violent alternative lyrics to "If I Had a Hammer." That was yesterday, when I still had a semblance of a sense of humor.

If I had ever in my adult life entertained doubts about my homosexuality, today would have ended them. I have decided I hate everything about women, their voices, their capacity to create children, whom I also hate and the fucking messes that follow in their wake. I try to comfort myself with the thought that if I puke one more time, I will surely die and it won't matter that they have ruined my home beyond all possible redemption.

At least I got to be fucked by Brian before I died, I tell myself. And I don't hate kids; I even love them, especially Briana. I can't die. Briana needs me, I'm her "Uncle Daddy," the closest thing to a parent the child has ever had. I almost cry, worrying about who will take care of Briana if I die. As if it hasn't been a constant worry since she was born.

God, I must be sick. This has got to be the biggest pity party I have ever thrown myself. And I have been known to throw some doozies. If only I could have kept the O'Keefe guest list down to just me, I think, as the noise level rises to a million decibels. I must be hallucinating, because I swear I hear Mama's voice yelling. But Mama cannot climb my stairs. But my Mama does not yell. At least not around me, she doesn't. I almost smile.

Joshua bellows for his mother once again. I almost think I can hear Mama tell him not to be so loud. Way to go, Mama. I do smile at the thought of Mama showing up to tackle the monsters for me, but those thudding footsteps, they just do not stop. Damn kid. I feel my stomach lurch again as the thudding of his feet seems to increase the thudding in my head. It has just been dry heaves for a while but I make myself stumble to the bathroom anyway. It's not like I want bile on the bedclothes. God, I'm gross. I wish this were over. Balancing to puke and keeping your hair out of the toilet is not easy when one arm is in a cast.

I knelt down as I started retching, trying to keep my hair clear of the water without falling forward; steadying myself by leaning my good arm on the vanity. If this keeps up I may have to cut off my hair. If my hair lands in that water, I may cut it off tonight. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around my chest steadying me while a hand gathered my hair together and pulled it back out of the way. I sighed briefly, and then concentrated on ridding myself of the bile that was twisting my gut in knots. I reached forward to flush since I no longer had to hold myself up. I leaned back and someone helped me to stand.

"You okay now?" Brian's voice whispered in my ear. I briefly toyed with the idea of just keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the dream. Maybe I fell, hit my head on the toilet and passed out? If so, I did not want to wake up. This was much more pleasant than the reality of the past two days.

"Danny, you in there?" The voice was a little more insistent. I risked turning my head a little and opening my eyes just a peek to look. It was Brian holding me up. Damn, he looked good. And I looked like shit. Shit that smelled like puke. Way to go, O'Keefe, you really know how to impress a guy.

"What are you doing here?" I croaked. Even my voice was gone, fuck. I hadn't considered what all of this puking was doing to my voice. There went my only other asset; I can't even sound sexy. "I'm gross, you don't want to get too close. I stink and you'll get vomit on you."

"Shut up. You practically have no voice left and you aren't saying anything worth listening to, so why waste what little voice you do have on nonsense," he spoke quietly, but gave me a killer smile. "Come on, I'll clean you up a little, then we'll get you back into bed. Emmett is putting clean sheets on it right now, so you may as well take a few more minutes in here. Your mother is getting rid of the monsters so soon everything is going to be a million times better."

"Mama really is here?" He edged me over to the sink and helped me rinse out my mouth then readied a toothbrush with paste before answering. He had me lean against him for support as I brushed.

"Emmett told me what was going on here and I knew it would take Mama Rose to get rid of them once they were that entrenched. Let me guess, they had their husbands convinced they were helping poor injured Danny so they were getting out of all other responsibilities all week?" Brian smirked at me. He understood O'Keefe family dynamics as well as a native.

"That's my guess. And there's some kind of teacher in-service this week so they have the kids on their hands, easier to let them trash my place than their own." I rinsed and spit. He grabbed the brush and put it back before answering. "Ahh, I was wondering why the brats weren't in school."

Brian sat me down on the closed toilet seat and I found my face and chest being washed with a cool cloth. I closed my eyes and relaxed. My head was still aching fit to burst, but it felt good to have the sweat and dirt of the past two days washed away.

"Do you think you could stand in the shower for a few minutes, just to rinse off? It might feel good."

I thought about it. It would feel like heaven. Then I remembered the damn cast. "I have to wrap my arm up and I haven't felt up to the effort of finding something to cover it with," I confessed.

"Wait here." Brian stepped out of the bathroom and I heard him whispering to someone in my bedroom. He returned in a minute with the type of plastic bag the newspaper is delivered in, and some twist ties.

"Very innovative," I tried to smile but the hammer in my head was increasing its pressure, fucking hammer. I leaned down on my left arm, resting my elbow on my thigh.

"Just sit there, let me do this. I have had my share of broken bones in my time so I am an expert at this, so you can trust me. My friend Mikey used to wrap me up sometimes but most of the time I did it myself, one handed even." Brian grinned.

I tried to look duly impressed but had to concentrate on not retching again. I really didn't want to puke in front of Brian if I could help it. I wait thirteen years for a man and the second time I get the chance to spend time with him, I'm puking my guts out. I really don't live right. I grabbed my stomach and bent over, clenching my teeth.

"Don't fight it," he murmured, as he finished placing my right arm in the narrow plastic bag, pulling it up over the cast, then tightening it at the top with the twist tie so no water could get it. "Tensing only makes it worse."

"You're an expert on concussions, broken bones and puking?"

"Kind of, yeah." He kept working on my arm, moving gently but competently. He checked to ensure that it was watertight. He kept the lights off, getting by with just the small nightlight by the sink, which was a blessing. I found that I was really photosensitive since this last concussion. He slipped my good arm over his shoulder after he had the water running in the shower.

"Danny, do you think you can stand up for just a few minutes in the shower to get rinsed off?"

"Yeah." I was damned if Brian was going to have to clean me. I could feel his gaze on me. Next thing I knew, he was sitting me back down and calling for Emmett. Fuck.

"Em, hold him for me here for a second." I looked at Brian. He was stripping off his dress shirt and slacks. Well, there were some benefits to being a helpless invalid after all.

"Brian, you don't have to wash me," I protested.

"Hush, baby, there are people on Liberty Avenue who would pay big money for this view, just lean back and enjoy it," Emmett had come in and was hugging me. I was beginning to love the big queen. He had been so great after Jamie dropped me off Monday. Jamie had headed back to the hospital and the monsters had descended. Poor Em, he had never seen O'Keefe women in full bitch mode; I think he thought from the game that they were civilized or something. Since I now had clean breath, I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Em, for everything."

"It was my pleasure, baby. Now let me help you into the shower with the naked stud. Too bad you are in no condition to enjoy it. Let's slip your sweatpants off, okay? Once we get you all presentable, your mama is waiting to see you. We'll have you in better shape by then so she won't be so worried, because quite frankly sweetheart, you looked like death warmed over earlier." Em kept chattering as he efficiently removed my sweatpants and basically lifted me into the bathtub, where Brian took over. I closed my eyes as fatigue hit me. I had been standing too long and could feel my legs start to buckle. I heard their voices dimly in the background as the warm water cascaded over me. It was so soothing I just wanted to go to sleep.

"Do you need help?" Em was asking worriedly.

"No, he isn't heavy, but put some towels out so I can reach them when we get out. And see if you can find him some clean sweats please. I have some jeans and a sweater in my car, would you mind grabbing them for me so I can change into them? Is the bed ready so I can put him right into it?"

"Okay, towels, sweats, done. Yes, to the clothes, are the keys in your pants? Yes, here they are, got them. Lastly, the bed is all ready with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. Anything else?"

"Some tea and toast might be a good idea. Justin could always keep that down first when he was recovering from...you know." There was a pause. Brian had been soaping me down while this quick conversation took place. I listened to it in a dreamy, disconnected way. Justin, he was the blond boy I had seen Brian with years ago, the man Brian had almost married. I knew about the bashing that left him in a coma. My uncle's police district had handled it and it had been the talk of the local PFLAG group for years. I wondered what had happened between them.

Brian kept one arm around me as he ran the other over me, soaping me up. I could feel his erection pressing against my ass as he lifted my hair up to get it wet enough to shampoo.

"I know I'm enjoying the shower," I whispered, my voice still hoarse. "How about you?" Brian chuckled.

"I am, but I don't think this is the time to explore that enjoyment any further." He reached around me and grabbed the shampoo from the shelf built into the wall; he squirted some onto my scalp. His strong fingers started massaging it in and I moaned softly at the pleasure. It was the first truly pleasurable feeling I had felt in forty-eight hours. I rubbed my ass back against him, trying to get closer. The hammer was quiet for the moment.

"I don't think I can be responsible for my actions if you do that again, Danny, and we need to get you clean and back into bed so you can get better and then I can fuck your brains out, okay?" He bent down and started nibbling my neck after breathing this into my ear.

"Damn, I think a little fuck wouldn't hurt. There's condoms and lube on the shelf behind you," I murmured, as I wrapped my left arm around his neck, turning to let the water run down my head and back, rinsing the soap from my hair. I kissed him, grinding our cocks together. He gasped into my mouth and drove his tongue in, exploring, making me even harder, more light-headed. He tipped my head back even more as the kiss deepened.

Fuck. As my balance shifted, I could feel the nausea roiling back. I pushed slightly back against Brian's chest in order to turn toward the drain, leaning down as I retched.

"Sorry," I managed to gasp between heaves.

"Sorry is bullshit, I must have taught you that lesson years ago! Besides, I should be saying sorry to you, you're sick and I'm attacking you in the shower like an animal, such an asshole thing to do," he said lightly, steadying me with his arms around my waist as I continued to retch for several minutes. When I finally finished, he quickly rinsed the rest of the soap out of my hair and carefully maneuvered us both out of the tub. I brushed my teeth again as he toweled me off. He then unwrapped my cast and helped me into my clean sweatpants. Emmett had slipped Brian's jeans onto my bed, which was one thing to be grateful for; at least he had not come back into the bathroom while I was making a fool of myself. Brian dressed himself quickly after getting me back into bed.

I felt like utter crap and was totally humiliated. I avoided looking Brian in the face as we did all of this in complete silence. When he lifted me into the bed rather than letting me get into it by myself, I decided not to protest. There was a tray sitting nearby with a pot of tea and a covered dish that no doubt held the toast that Justin had liked after his concussion. I decided to hate it. I couldn't help smiling at my own childishness.

Brian sat down on the bed next to me.

"I am glad you are smiling again. I was starting to think I was never going to see your dimples again." He spoke softly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.

"I thought about it, but the truth is, I am too much of a joke not to laugh at," I confessed.

"You are not a joke, Danny. I was really worried about you. Cut yourself some slack, won't you? You are really hurt, it's to be expected that you're going to be sick. Everyone needs some help sometimes and not everyone is up to fucking all the time, even me. But if you ever tell anyone I admitted to that, I will deny it." He tried to look fierce but really just looked adorable.

"Bri, I practically puked on you." In the middle of a kiss, no less, I added to myself.

"Been there, done that. No biggie, Man, if Mikey had a dime for every time I have puked on him, he would be a rich man today. Yet, despite my unfortunate puking episodes, he still loves me," Brian laughed.

"But I was trying to seduce you." I made a truly pathetic face at him. He just laughed at me.

"You got me there. I never puked on Mikey while trying to seduce him, although I was generally drunk when I puked on him, and I think, at least from what he tells me, although it is hard to believe because this is not something I can fathom doing sober, he swears that twice when I have been really, really, puking, falling down drunk, I have tried to seduce him. Fortunately, I failed both times because I strongly suspect that at any other time he would have jumped at the chance, but let's keep that suspicion a secret between us, okay?" Brian whispered this to me to make me laugh, which of course it did. Brian could always make me laugh. He started brushing my hair slowly. I winced.

"I'm clearly not very good at this. How about now that you're smelling better and do not look like you're at death's door, we get your mama in here to straighten out your curls and reassure herself that you have not been killed by the loving attention of the distaff side of the O'Keefe family?" Brian cocked one of his eyebrows at me. I smiled back.

"That would be good. And thank you, Brian, for showing up with your sword and shield."

Brian looked down at his crotch ruefully. "Well, the only one I tried using my sword on was you, and that was a bit ill-timed, but your mama proved an effective shield. You should have seen those cunts cower."

"Don't let mama hear you say that," I warned. He smirked.

"Your mama loves me, and after today, she may be asking for more appropriate words for Carol. She was not happy about the way those kids were trashing your place." I winced, which Brian was quick to notice.

"Don't get all stressed out, it's all being fixed as we speak. By the time you come out of this room, either later tonight or tomorrow morning, it will be as good as new, I promise. Briana is with Daphne tonight; Jamie is going over when his shift is over either to take her home to your mother's for the night or to supervise the sleepover and make sure she has everything she needs. Plus, he is dropping off some meds for you that will take care of the vomiting and should help control the headaches better. He will be over in a couple hours. He spoke to the neurologist and got him to write a new script."

I looked at him in wonder. "When did you manage all that?"

"On the car ride over while Emmett charmed your mother. Now drink some tea and I'll go get her." I watched him stroll over to the door and call softly for mama.

Mary Pat once took care of me when I had the flu and told me I was a terrible patient. She groused at me that if I could ever find anyone to put up with me when I was sick, I should hold onto him, since I was the most over-sensitive, unreasonable, unappreciative, cranky bastard imaginable. I, of course, apologized profusely, and begged her to forgive me since at the time I really did not want to be left alone and Mary Pat is one of the few in my family who is actually helpful when you are sick. I did my best Tiny Tim imitation, (Dickens version, that is, not the singer from the sixties), until she hugged me and told me I was a brat but that she would stay until I was better. I promised to let her pick out my future partner. She told me she had just given me all the advice she was ever going to give me, but she no sooner said that then she added one more bit.

"If you can find the guy, Danny, who will hold your hair back for you when you have to throw up, and still kiss you afterward and not be grossed out by having seen you puke, one you can laugh with, and cry with, that is the man you should spend your life with."

"So why haven't you settled down, Mary Patricia, being so wise and all?"

"Because I haven't found the person who meets that exacting criteria yet, baby brother, and unlike our siblings, I am not willing to settle for anything short of that," she answered briskly. I had noted the substitution she made in nouns, but decided not to comment upon it. I had already given her a hard enough time. When Mary Pat was ready to tell someone in the family, I figured I would be the one she came to with her secret.

As for me, I wasn't willing to settle for less, either, so I had never settled into any serious relationships over the years. Always in the back of my mind, there had been thoughts of Brian. I had been honest with him; I had never been tempted to bottom with anyone before him. That was really symbolic of more than just a sexual position preference. I was never willing to let anyone get that close to me, to come inside the "real" Danny O'Keefe. My experiences with the gay scene in New York had not led me to trust anyone enough to give up control. On the contrary, I learned to rely only on myself. One man in particular had practically driven me from the city in his obsession to have control over me: my career, my body and at times, my soul, were all commodities he wanted to own. Being stubborn, I refused access to all three, much to my detriment. I didn't regret it, except to the extent that his vendetta extended to Angel. He was a man who didn't like to lose. Brian was so different. I felt safe letting down my guard with another man for the first time in so long.  My reflections were cut short as mama came into the room. I relaxed as I felt her arms pull me close. Brian poked his head in to say he would be just in the other room if we needed anything, then he closed the door and left the two of us together.

"Danny, my angel boy." I felt all the worries and pain drift away as my mama started combing out my damp hair. I would figure out what was going on with Brian and me later. For now, all was right with the world for the first time since Sunday afternoon. Thanks to Brian and Mama Rose. I felt like such a child, but after carrying a man's burdens alone for so long, it felt really good to be taken care of, to feel loved again.

Return to Better Friends and Lovers