Point of View

Chapter Ten: Land of The Living

 

Sunday, July 8th 2007
Brian’s P.O.V.

I found myself
In another world
I found myself
Alive and well

“Are you enjoying your birthday party, buddy?” I ask Leighton, walking out onto the deck.

He drops his color changing hot wheels corvette back into the cup of ice and looks up at me, smiling. “Yup!”

“Me too, Mr. Kinney,” Adam, Leighton’s best friend, tells me.

“That’s great, Adam,” I say, walking out onto the lawn and lighting a cigarette. “Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime,” he returns, giggling.

Adam is extremely polite. He’s actually one year younger than Leighton is but they’re on the same soccer team and they have formed a tight friendship over the last couple of weeks. When Leighton asked to invite him, Justin and I were both relieved. When we first talked about his birthday party, he told us that he didn’t care to invite any friends.

Justin was upset; turning ten is a big deal in kid world and in parent world. I’m sure he also remembered the many parties where no one besides Daphne and my friends and I would show up at his birthday bashes.

Leighton had many friends while living in Chicago, but it seemed like since he moved back here, he didn’t have any. We asked many times if he wanted to call a friend to play with but he always refused. However, Friday, after his winning goal in the soccer game, Leighton asked if he could invite Adam to his party. It was short notice, but thankfully, his parents didn’t have any other plans and agreed to bring him out and pick him up after the fiesta is over. The color change car wash set is a gift from them, definitely beating out all the other gifts his family got him.

Adam’s mothers are cool, for lesbians, and not too uptight. We invited Lindsay and Melanie to stay for the party too, but they decided to take the opportunity to see a movie. They asked Justin and I to come to their house for dinner in a couple of weeks. At first I was hesitant to accept, even though they both seem pretty laid back, but then Justin accepted before I could say no. I have to say, there’s something extremely appealing about developing a possible friendship with people who only see Justin and me as a happily married couple.

They did stay for a few minutes and seemed to fit in really well with our family. They even surprised us by bringing a gift for Evelyn and Audrey, instructing Justin and I to not let them see them until Gus opened his gifts. The girls were thrilled when they saw that they each got a car to use with the Gus’ carwash set too.

Right now, Evelyn and Audrey are playing with Daphne. Daphne is practicing her mom-to-be skills, having a great time with them in sandbox. Looking over at her, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll be able to get up from the sand on her own. She really should’ve used the chair Justin keeps beside the sandbox, but I guess she doesn’t mind getting dirty.

Mom is sitting on the swing near the stables, next to Frank, Daphne’s father. He took her out on an ‘official date’ last night and they arrived here, together, this morning. I’ve refrained, for now, asking Molly if her mother came home alone or at all, last night. Not because I want to spare myself the details. It’s been so long since Mom has seen a man; even the thought of straight sex couldn’t dampen my excitement for her. Frank is showing himself to be a perfect match and well, Daphne, Justin and I were laughing our asses off before they arrived because we all realized that if they got married, we’d all really be family.

The reason I haven’t talked to Molly about Jenifer is that I still have yet to speak more than a few polite words to the woman. It’s not as if I haven’t tried. Her answers to my questions are always short, tense and clipped. She doesn’t return with any questions herself, so the conversation falls flat immediately or it appears as if I’m grilling her. She was once my sister, whether she thinks of herself that way or not, and though I know I fucked up Justin and my relationship, I do know that the problems she had with Jen, Justin and me were Craig’s fault, not mine. He brainwashed her, took advantage of her fears and spoils, and turned her against us. Yet, for some still unknown reason, she’s come back here. I hope she lets us in soon on the little secret I’m sure she’s hiding. I know Jennifer’s been a little wrapped up with us and Frank, so she probably thinks that her begging worked. It never did before though, so why now?

“Brian?” Speak of the devil.

I turn toward Molly who is peeking out of the French doors. “Yeah?”

“Can you round everyone up and tell them to sit at the picnic table? Justin’s lighting the candles and he’s bringing the cake out,” she tells me, smiling genuinely.

“Sure,” I return, throwing my half-smoked cigarette into the fire pit’s center. I walk over to the sandbox and reach my hand out to Daphne. “Come on, Mama, Justin’s bringing out the cake.”

“Cake?” Audrey asks, looking around us, dropping the bucket of sand she held.

“Not for you,” I tell her, picking her up after Daphne stands.

“Thanks Brian,” Daphne says, waddling up the grass. “I don’t want to miss that.”

I laugh and gently poke Evelyn with my foot. “Come on, you don’t want to miss it either. Do you?”

Evvie drops her shovel and castle bucket dramatically as she stands up. “No,” she whines. “But I was makin’ a moat of for Aunt Daphne.”

I laugh at the poorly constructed sand dune running around the castle that is falling apart. “I’ll tell you what,” I say, grabbing her grubby hand. “I’ll help you make a moat after we eat cake, okay?”

She looks up and smiles, looking so much Leighton when she does and nods her head. “Okay!”

Sometimes, children can be so easily pleased.

 

***
 

I walk over to the door and open it, expecting it to be Lindsay and Melanie who are due to pick up Adam soon. I’m surprised, though I guess I shouldn’t be, when I see Terence Cole, Griffin’s lawyer, standing on the welcome mat. My gut twists at the sight of him. “Can I help you?”

He holds up a large, rectangular brown package under one arm and a large white envelope in his other hand. “I was instructed to bring these to you, today. I’m a little late due to some car trouble.”

“Come in,” I say softly, gesturing him into the foyer.

“This box is to be given to Leighton, from you, after this,” he pauses and holds up the large white envelope, “after Justin reads this.”

“Not me?” I ask, feeling a little disappointed not to be included. Yet also, I feel guilty that I’m relieved too. I love that Griffin felt the need to give us letters to read once he was gone, but it can be so hard, too hard reading them, sometimes.

Today’s been a good day, for all of us, and I know that it’s going to be painful for Justin to read his letter. It’s their child’s tenth birthday and Griffin isn’t here to see it, to celebrate it. When we celebrated Evvie’s at the end of April, I got a letter too. It left me a mess and I’m sure it will leave Justin a mess too.

“No, this is only for Justin,” he repeats. “Should I give it to him directly?” he wonders, almost suspiciously.

“No,” I say gruffly taking both items from him. “I’ll make sure to give it to him and do as you ask with the box for Leighton.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you today, Brian. But, I have to go along with Griffin’s wishes,” he apologizes gently.

“I understand,” I say. “Thank you.”

“Goodbye,” he says, backing out of the doorway.

“Yeah, bye,” I reply. I close the front door behind him, walk over to the small armoire and place the envelope and package in the cabinet. I don’t want Justin to know about this until everyone else is gone.

I walk toward the kitchen and stop just outside when I hear Justin’s voice rise in a whispered pitch. “You’re a real bitch sometimes,” he growls.

Who is he talking too?

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” Molly whines.

Great. What the fuck has she said to him now?

“How else am I supposed to take it?” Justin hisses. “You asked me if I’ll ever get married for love, or if I’ll have to always trap a guy by getting pregnant. How could I interpret it any other way?”

What a bitch! Shit, I’d better get in there before it gets ugly. Justin doesn’t need this stress.

“Justin, please I…” Molly stops talking as I walk into the kitchen.

“What’s up?” I ask this in a light tone. I don’t want her to know I heard them having an argument.

One of the reasons Molly wanted to live with Craig was because she thought we were mean and ganged up on her. She told the judge that her mother never did anything about it. The judge didn’t base his ruling of custody on her statement, but to this day, that bothers me. Justin and I picked a few fights with her when we were younger, but usually we always treated her nicely. She was like a baby, compared to us; at least I thought of her as one. I think the truth was that she felt we ignored her.

However, to be fair, there was only so much a pre-teen girl could have in common with two older boys. Yet Molly has used the ‘don’t gang up on me’ whiney defense any time Jennifer has ever disagreed with her and agreed with Justin. I really don’t want her going that route right now. What I want is Molly to leave the kitchen, or apologize. From her furious expression, I doubt she’ll do either one.

“Brian,” she huffs out my name and purses her lips into a frown.

I try to ignore her obvious misery and take Justin into my arms. He looks into my eyes, kisses my lips gently and rubs his thumbs back and forth over my biceps. All this tells me that he hasn’t allowed her to get him too stressed out. I kiss him again, making him laugh when I lick at the sweat on his upper lip.

Molly interrupts us by clearing her throat loudly. “I can’t watch my two brothers make out. Do you two mind?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“We’re not brothers, Molly. And that was not making out. I sorta feel sorry for you if you think it was. If you’d like Brian and me to show you what…”

“Oh shut up!” Molly barks out and stomps out of the kitchen.

The second we hear her footsteps grow distant we both crack up laughing. “You’re evil, Justin,” I tell him, tickling his underarms.

“I am not,” he defends while licking my lips and forcing his tongue into my mouth.

I am the vapor
I am the gas
You be the angel
Of everything

I suck on his appendage while gliding my hands down to his perfect ass. I squeeze his cheeks in my hands and smack my lips, savoring his taste. “Mmm… sweet.”

Justin grins and takes my hand, placing it on rock hard cock. “You wanna try my cream sauce too?”

I push him back against the counter and attack his neck, licking and nibbling at the faint marks still visible from our wedding night. His skin tastes salty but I can taste the earthy lotion he uses, combined with the smell of his cologne. It might seem bitter or odd to anyone else, but I love these tastes. These tastes are Justin.

I move my hands back to his ass; he lifts his legs, wrapping them around my waist when I lift him off the ground and place him on the countertop. “Stay,” I order him.

“Hurry,” he whispers, giggling. “Someone could come in and catch us.”

Exactly. That makes it more exciting, usually anyway. However, my mind is back on the present and I remember that we are in the middle of celebrating Leighton’s birthday. I back away from Justin, very, very, reluctantly.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, his eyes dark, begging.

“Adam’s parents could be here any second,” I remind him, adjusting my boner in my underwear.

“Oh shit!” Justin gasps, jumping down from the counter. “It’s my son’s tenth birthday and I was ready to start fucking in the middle of it.”

“That should be Lindsay and Melanie,” I say, hearing the doorbell chime through the house.

“I thought they just came,” Justin says, walking out of the kitchen with me. “Who was at the door before?”

“That was Terence Cole, Griffin’s lawyer,” I admit to him.

Justin stops before the door and hesitates for a moment before opening it. “He left something for me and Leighton from Griff?” he suspects.

“Yeah,” I confirm and give him a quick kiss. “I wasn’t going to tell you until later. I…I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I sort of figured he’d arrange something, Brian,” he confesses quietly. “I’ve been thinking about him all day.”

“Me too,” I tell him. “I wish he was here.”

Just before Justin opens the door and I hear the kids all laughing together in the living room. Jennifer is telling them some sort of silly story and their giggling is so loud it echoes around the foyer too. Justin smiles at me and I smile back, both of us thinking the same thing. Griffin is here, the best parts of him are alive, in our home.

 

***
 

Justin’s P.O.V.

This is the land of the living
This is the land of reprisal
This is the land of the living
The living
The living

Today was a great day. Leighton had a wonderful time at his party and so did everyone else. After our family and friends left about an hour ago, Brian and I put the girls to bed while Leighton got to play with his new Leapster game my Mom got him.

Now, Leighton and Brian are watching ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ in his room, while I’m sitting on the chaise lounge in our bedroom, holding the thick, unopened envelope from Griffin. The package Brian is supposed to give Leighton after I read the note sits on the table beside me. I’ve been in here for about fifteen minutes, trying to find the courage to open the letter. Nevertheless, it’s not coming. I feel weak from the memories of the first time Griffin confessed his feelings for me and the memories of the night we made Leighton.

We had a party at the apartment and as usual, Brian was in our room, fucking some random guy. Everyone was past the point of drunk by the time they stumbled off into cabs, or walked home. I was flying high on E, sprawled out on the sofa when Griff closed and locked the door on the last straggler.

When Griffin swaggered over to me, there was something different about him. He looked at me in way I’d never noticed before. As he sat beside me, staring at me, electricity sizzled between us and I knew that things weren’t ever going to be the same.

He asked me if I was too high, too drunk to understand him. I felt, alert and open. I think he sensed that and knew that he could trust me with his feelings when I assured him that I could understand him perfectly well.

Griffin proceeded to confess that he was in love with me. He wanted to be with me, show me what it was like to be loved, truly loved. I’d been listening to Brian fucking for the last half-hour, could hear his moans, even over the loud music that played. Then, there was no music and I couldn’t hear the bed springs creaking or sighs of pleasure coming from down the hall. All I could hear was Griffin’s words and the need I felt, that had my heart pounding so loudly. The need and the want to feel the way he promised I would, if I gave him the chance overcame all of my trepidations.

So I did. I told him that I wanted the love he offered. I really did, it was all I wanted.

He took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom. I undressed for him and he touched me, everywhere. Experiencing Griffin’s emotional outpouring of love within me, was amazing. I couldn’t have prepared for it. It might have been the E I was on that heightened the experience, but we did it in the morning too, long after the high faded and it was just as good, or so I remembered, as the first time.

Griffin gave me an out after our sex that morning. He said we moved too fast, he hadn’t planned to get me in bed by admitting his love for me. I told him that I needed to think, I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t tell him but I also didn’t want to jump into a relationship with him when I still had unresolved feeling for Brian. We agreed that we’d go on a couple of dates and build up to the sex again.

But then I talked to Brian about it and he seemed so fucking hurt. I was sure that it was because he was in love with me, but too afraid to tell me. After going on a few dates with Griffin, I though I had deep feelings for him but they didn’t rival what I felt for Brian. I had decided that I would break it off with him and finally tell Brian about my feelings for him.

That plan was derailed when I came down with the ‘flu’ that just wouldn’t go away. Brian suggested that I get a pregnancy test. I thought he was crazy. I was always methodic about taking my birth control pills and I didn’t think there was any way I could be pregnant. However, I got an at home test and two lines indicated that I was indeed pregnant. Everything changed then.

Now my son, my little boy is ten years old. A whole decade has passed since I first held him. I feel horrible knowing that this decade has for the most part, been darkened with pain. This is not environment I wished or imagined Leighton would grow up in. I know there is nothing I could’ve done to prevent the cancer that ate away at Griffin, but I still blame myself for the childish actions I took in marrying him when I knew in my heart that I did not and would not ever love him the way I should have.

I cheated on Griffin long before I became an adulterer. I cheated him by making promises I knew in my heart were broken before they were ever spoken. However, the post-partum depression wreaked havoc on my common sense and good ideals. It spun around me, a surprise attack on my mind, heart and emotions. It destroyed me on the inside. The pieces it tore away, silently became erected into a wall, cast around my son and me. The end construction revealed a barrier which rarely had leaks, a prison with walls no one could scale. I lived in a landmark of shame.

Its shadow followed me all the way to Chicago, Illinois. It breathed down my back on every trip I made with Leighton home to Pittsburgh. I have just, finally began to feel light, see a level plain and encouraging seeds of growth. Nevertheless, the letter I hold brings me back ten years. It warrants the trip and fall down memory lane.

“Fuck!” I look down at my stinging finger. It’s bleeding, sliced from where I’ve been picking at the corner of the envelope. I suck on the tip of my pointer, tasting copper and the bitter tang of blood-thick foreshadowing.

 

***
 

Friday September 28th 2001
3rd Person P.O.V.

I lost myself
To wider plane

The relief Griffin felt to finally be on solid ground showed with his normal color returning to his face. He let out a deep breath and breathed the terminal’s air, it wasn’t fresh air, but it was much better than the recycled air he’d been sucking in on the plane. The ten and a half hours he spent flying from New York to Hawaii had been torturous, first class seating had made no difference in the discomfort he felt.

The moment the flight attendant announced that the plane reached cruising altitude and turned off the fasten seat belts light, Griffin immediately jumped from his seat and ran for the bathroom. Three times during the non-stop flight, he had bolted from his seat to make it to the tiny bathroom and empty his stomach’s contents. He cursed himself for continuing to eat the airplane food, but he was ravenous every time he came back from the bathroom.

The entire back of the plane smelled of vomit, even though the attendants tried to diffuse it by hanging cardboard air fresheners. It was obvious to the other passengers that it was Griffin alone who made the rank smell travel through the jet. The glares they sent him and whispers of upset only made his stomach twist more. He got very little sleep and by the end of the trip, he was sure the passengers wanted to kill him.

He gathered his luggage, waited another hour to go through security checkpoints and tiredly made his way over to the airport lounge to greet his client.

“You look like crap,” Julian commented as Griffin walked toward him.

Griffin dropped his suitcase, portfolio and carry-on beside him and slumped into the chair across from Julian. “It was a bad flight,” he understated then elaborated, “but not as bad as check in. I had to get to the airport this morning at two a.m.”

“That’s precisely why I asked Kinnetik to do the hard work,” Julian joked dryly and then pointed to the suitcase. “You better put your things under the table. You don’t want security to think your bags are unattended.”

Griffin growled as he slid the suitcase under his chair and placed his carry-on and portfolio on the empty chair beside him. “I understand the need for the new regulations but it was insane this morning. I didn’t expect to be practically strip-searched, have my lighter and cigarettes taken away and then wait for hours, unable to leave the boarding area, to get on the plane.”

Julian signaled the waiter in the lounge and smiled apologetically at the tired man across from him. “You need a stiff drink, which I can help you with. Brenda made me quit smoking last year though so I can’t help you there, but I’m sure the bar sells them.”

“That’s okay, I need to quit anyway.” Griffin replied, wiped the sweat from the top of his lip, and shook his head. “I just need some water and maybe some pretzels or something. The change in altitude doesn’t agree with me,” he explained.

“You didn’t have trouble with the altitude when you came down last year,” Julian spoke in concern. “Do you think you’ve come down with something? I know this is a business trip, but I’d hate for you to find no pleasure while in Maui.”

“I don’t know,” Griffin said, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe I’ll feel better after I sleep tonight. I’m looking forward to testing out the new water slides you built at the West Resort.”

Julian laughed. “Brenda’s been begging for me to go with her on them. So if you’re feeling better tomorrow, we can all go try them out.”

“I probably wouldn’t feel so bad if security hadn’t taken Ambien from me. I never sleep well on planes, but without the Ambien, it made it worse.”

“What did they think you were going to do with it,” Julian lowered his voice, “become MacGyver and make a bomb out of it?”

Griffin rolled his eyes, “Apparently.”

“Maybe I should get some Tylenol PM at a convenient store. I hope you don’t mind if I skip dinner.”

“I understand,” Julian replied. “I wouldn’t want to eat after such a long flight either. I don’t know what I was thinking. We can stop by a store for your Tylenol on the way back to my home and you can show me the plans there if you’d like?”

“Sounds good,” Griffin, replied and stood from the table.

 

***
 

“I’m glad you feel like eating something,” Brenda said smiling at Griffin.

“Thank you for dinner. I guess I just needed to be on land to feel like myself. I would’ve hated to miss out on this dessert!”

“I made these crème horns this morning and Julian won’t touch the things. I would’ve gobbled up the whole dozen myself and spent all my free time at the gym working them off.”

“They’re delicious,” Griffin said while chewing. “You don’t like these?” he asked Julian, surprised that he didn’t love the pastry.

“She makes the crème with lemon,” Julian defended. “I’m allergic to lemon extract.”

“You didn’t eat them before when I used cherry,” Brenda laughed. “You’re too worried you’ll gain a pound on that perfect physique.”

Griffin laughed, “Brian’s the same way. He bitched and moaned about eating a piece of Leighton’s birthday cake this year, but he couldn’t say no to Leighton when he offered him some right out of his hand.”

Brenda shared a look with Julian that Griffin didn’t notice and asked, “Do you have any recent pictures of him? Justin hasn’t sent any in a while.”

“Justin hasn’t called in a while,” Julian further explained. He closed the portfolio of the presentation and slid it further down the table.

“He’s been busy,” Griffin explained lamely while pulling out his wallet. He took out the latest photos of his child and slid them over to Julian and Brenda. “He’s such a good father to Leighton. I couldn’t have asked for a better father for him,” he spoke softly.

“Justin always wanted kids,” Julian remarks wistfully. “He’d follow Brian and I around begging us to play house.” He let out a loud laugh at the memory. “Somehow, Molly and I always ended up being the kids while Brian and Justin got to be the Dads. I couldn’t ever say no to him and neither could Brian. He’d have Brian changing his dollies’ diapers and ordering me to time out if I didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ at dinner time.”

Brenda laughed with her husband and kissed his cheek. “I’ll never forget the time I walked my sister over to play with Molly and we found you up in the tree house wearing a bib and eating mashed bananas alongside Molly.”

“Oh god!” Julian groaned as he flipped through the photos. “Don’t remind me of that. It never happened again.”

Brenda bumped Julian’s shoulder. “Don’t be so embarrassed, it’s what made me want to date you.”

Griffin placed the remainder of his dessert down on his plate and commented, “I didn’t know you knew Justin and Brian that long.”

Julian thumbed the picture of Leighton and nodded his head. “I attended a public school. But Brian was my next door neighbor when he lived with his parents. Our mothers were in the same church group and we played together practically since birth.”

“I had no idea,” Griffin spoke, feeling uncomfortable.

“And I attended St. James with Justin and Brian,” Brenda supplied. “Though neither of them seemed to notice I existed, at first.”

“They can be like that,” Griffin said quietly.

Julian heard the man’s words and knew he had to change the subject. He didn’t think that Griffin should be with either Brian or Justin, but he still respected the man and didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. He joked, “Well you don’t think all the special treatment Brian gives me is purely about profit do you? Wait a minute! I do get special treatment, right?”

“Definitely. Julian,” Griffin replied, smiling.

 

***
 

July 8th 2007
Justin’s P.O.V.
 

I opened up
I’m not the same

I’m surprised to see a smaller envelope inside the largest one. Written in permanent marker, I recognize Griffin’s penmanship. For a brief second I dwell on the many notes he wrote me during my pregnancy with Leighton. Betrayal and grief nibbles at the stems of each memory in my brain, yet I still smile recalling the sweet romanticism he tried so hard to share with me. Mornings greeted with flowers and love notes, afternoon phone calls to tell me he was thinking of our baby and me and nights, nights of kissing, wanting, and dreaming.

I can’t believe it’s been ten years. I can’t believe in ten years I am here, pregnant with twins, Brian’s children, and about to read a letter from my dead ex-husband. It sounds like something out of a cheesy, angst-filled, love story, but it’s not. It’s what I’ve made of my life in a decade. It’s reality.

The words written on the smaller envelope instruct me not to open it until I read the first stack of folded papers. I take those into my hands and place the envelope on my lap. I unfold the papers and see there are only a few sheets of paper. There looked to be more the way he folded them. I look at the first line and wonder how on Earth I’ll be able to read when my eyes are already flooded with tears.

My first love,

I am so glad you are home with us. HOME. Yes, it is still that for you even if you wish it weren’t. You can’t make me believe you like Chicago more than Pittsburgh, this city is a part of you and I was always confident you’d come back here. I wish it didn’t have to be because I’m dying, but I’m glad you’re here. Every day that gets closer to a safe birth for my child, I am glad to know you will be here when I am not. We are scheduled to go in for the cesarean in three days and I know this will be the last letter I write.

My actions, what I did, drove you and our child from our home and for that, I am sorry. I am sorry I was an insecure coward or too prideful at times. However, I am not sorry for the life I have led beyond the one we shared together for too short of a time. I want you to know that if it were up to me, I would’ve stayed with you for the rest of our lives, or at least my life. But none of that matters now. It’s all in the past, a flicker of time neither of us can change.

I hope you can forgive me for finding happiness with Brian, of all people. I know you would not wish me to be unhappy, but it couldn’t have been easy to accept that he and I were together and in love, the way you and I never were.

I did love you, Justin. There is no scale to measure or weigh my love for you against my love for Brian. Both were in different realms, so far from each other, yet so alike in some ways. It was your love for me and is your love for Brian, however, that could easily be measured. I know now that I never measured up when it came to him and I never stood a chance in being your first love, nor your last. If I had realized the scale of your definite love for Brian, before we married, before I was pregnant with Evelyn, I swear to you; I would have left him. I probably would’ve left town. I do not, nor have I ever known for sure what his feelings are for you, but I would guess somewhere inside him he feels the same way you feel about him. Or, maybe he’ll grow to love you the way he should once I’m gone.

I hope so. I really do. Because you two will need each other.

I did not want to leave the world with regrets, Justin. But I have many. I trust you to know that much of the positive show I put on was for Brian’s and the kids’ benefit. To be honest with you, I’m terrified. More so now that I’ve received what I asked for.

When I first had this idea of writing these letters, I didn’t imagine that I would write this one. It was always in the back of my head, but I didn’t think I’d ever do it. Now I have to.

I wanted only to fill this letter with words of encouragement. I thought that maybe I’d throw in some bittersweet memories or last requests for Leighton and how he remembers me. However, I trust you. I trust you to do the right thing for him, I always have. I have no doubt in your ability to be a wonderful father to him.

I have left letters for all the children to read, or you and Brian to read to them until they are able, for each year of the birth, some holidays, some spur of the moment days. I hope you will not dread them and that you will like to read some with them. These past few months I’ve done a lot of writing. It seems it’s the only thing that I can do that doesn’t hurt, physically anyway. At night when I wake up in pain, it is writing my dreams, hopes and memories, out on paper that soothes me.

If you feel it is ever too much to give the kids the letters, I respect your decision. Nevertheless, I do hope that all the letters I have for them will be, for the most part, uplifting. I am so terrified that I will only be a ghost in their lives. I want to have some kind of presence, even if that is only words written in the past showing my love and hopes for their futures.

Now, comes the part where I have to explain the unexplainable. I still am uncertain whether or not you know this and I don’t know if I did or I’m doing the right thing by not telling you before I die. It’s weird trying to talk to you as though I’m already dead, but in a way, I guess I am. I know that I won’t see the week out. I am only fighting for my child to live. After my baby is taken from my body, I have to let go. It is my time. I’ve accepted it. Because of this, I could not tell you, it would’ve been too much for you and Brian before.

I have arranged for you to receive this letter on Leighton’s tenth birthday for numerous reasons. Mainly, because I feel by then, even if by some miracle I do hold on for another month, I will not be here to see him blow out ten candles on his birthday cake. I also hope that you and Brian will be able to handle what is in the second envelope, now that you’ve had time to process my death.

If you both hate me for not telling you before I died, I accept that. But I couldn’t do that to either one of you. And, still, I am not positive that you don’t already know and are too scared to tell me. Or, maybe you both know and never wanted to admit the truth to one another or to me. Whatever the case, know that I love you both. You and Brian gave me the family I always needed and now I hope you can be the family you were before me.

Please pause in reading this now and open the second envelope now. When you do, try to remember that I did this because I had to know the truth and if you didn’t, you never would.

What in the fuck is he talking about! What might I know already? What? He knew I was in love with Brian! Did he know we cheated on him together and this letter is proof of some kind?

I quickly open the smaller envelope. I practically tear the sheets of paper out. When I look at them, at first I don’t understand what I’m seeing. I look at the second paper and scan down it, my pulse racing so fast from what I think I may be seeing that I’m not sure if this is right. It can’t be!

Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! I grab the rest of the letter and keep reading.

I had these tests run because for years, I always wondered. There were so many little reasons that I told myself it wasn’t true. I didn’t think you could ever betray me in such a heartless way, Justin. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that you and Brian would never do this to me. You may see this as a betrayal. Yes. I went behind both of your backs and got D.N.A. from all of us to be tested. However, I had to know. Not for me, but for you and Brian too! I couldn’t die without knowing the truth. Worse yet, if you both don’t know, you would never know unless I told you.

I had my suspicions mostly because of things Julian would say about you two at his anniversary party, but I pushed them away because you both promised me that nothing happened. However, I overheard Julian talking to Brenda one night I was staying with them in Maui. He said that you were both so high on E that you probably didn’t know what you’d done. He and Brenda talked about how much Brian and Leighton look alike and how I look nothing like him, how the timing fit. I didn’t want to believe anything more had happened than what you two told me happened. Then, just a few minutes later that night I found out I was pregnant with Evelyn and those suspicions fell to the back of my mind.

They arose again when Julian came for a visit and brought with him a picture of Brian, you and him. In it, Brian is around ten years old. Leighton looks identical to him, with a sprinkling of you. I couldn’t deny my need to know the truth any longer.

As you can see, now I do. And if you didn’t before, now you know. Brian is Leighton’s father. The test is legitimate. You can be sure that Terence Cole would never supply me with false results. Leighton will always be my son in some way, but I hope that you will be honest with him and yourself and see this not as a betrayal of trust, but as a need for the truth.

I love you all, Justin. Please forgive me and know that I do forgive you and Brian for lying to me about your relationship. I am sure you and he are together, taking care of my children, and for that, I am so grateful to you. I was honored to once call you my husband and it is an honor to know that you will be the father to my children that I no longer can be.

Love, Griffin

“Brian! Brian!” I yell through bated breaths as I stand up to walk toward the door. Shit! I feel so light headed. I can’t breathe! I can’t think. I have to force his name out again. “Brian!” I yell again as best as I can.

I think I hear running down the hall and suddenly, Brian and Leighton rush into the bedroom. Both of them have matching concerned expressions on their faces.

I am electric
Made of wire
You be the match
I’ll be the fire

“Justin what’s wrong?” Brian asks, running over to me.

“Oh god!” I gasp, feeling my stomach turn. I drop the papers from my shaking hands as the world tilts and sways around me. “Oh god, Brian!”

“Justin, calm down! Take some deep breaths,” Brian tries to say calmly as he backs me up to the bed.

“I can’t! Brian, Leighton!” I can hardly speak as my mouth feels so dry and my entire body feels as though it is being turned inside out.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Leighton asks, afraid to come near me. I see him pause in his footsteps and look down at the scattered papers.

“Brian!” I can’t get my body to move, to listen to what I need. He can’t…“Don’t, Leighton!”

I’m too late, Leighton has them in his hands and he’s reading them. He’s a smart little boy and he knows what he’s reading in the last lines of the letter and on the papers of results. Griffin circled the findings in red ink and spelled it out right under them!

“Brian is my real Daddy!” he gasps looking up at me and Brian, his hazel eyes swimming with tears.

“What?” Brian asks, grabbing the papers from Leighton’s hands and letting me fall back to sit on the bed.

“Daddy?” Leighton says worriedly, walking over to me. “Daddy, Papa wrote that?”

“Yes,” I say in a hushed tone.

Brian snaps his head toward me. “Justin, that’s impossible!”

“It’s true,” I gasp pointing to the results. “You’re Leighton’s biological father, Brian. Griffin had us tested. You’re his father! Read the fucking letter!” I cry.

Oh God! Oh God! I’m going to be sick!

 

***
 

Friday September 28th 2001
3rd Person P.O.V.

This is the land of the living
This is the land of reprisal
This is the land of the living
The living

Griffin set the timer on his watch, washed his hands and walked out of the bathroom that attached to his guest room. He lay back on the large, vibrant colored bed and closed his eyes. His fingers crawled toward his stomach, pushing up his shirt and resting on his abs for a moment before he moved them around. A few minutes before, he had seen it in the mirror when he was looking for it after his shower. The <i>change</i> and evidence of his possible pregnancy couldn’t be ignored. He wondered how long the difference was there and he hadn’t noticed.

Pressing with both palms and walking his ten fingers, Griffin started at the top of his stomach. He moved from his ribs, over his abdomen and then down under his sweat pants to just above his pubic hair. Every inch he touched above his belly button felt unchanged but when he applied a little pressure to the area under his belly button he felt a swelling hardness he never recalled experiencing before. Twice he pressed down before he opened his eyes and looked down at his body. Lying down flat, he could see the small rise around his belly button.

Griffin slowly sat up, keeping his tear-filled eyes on his stomach. The pooch was still evident.

He jumped a little when he heard noise outside his bedroom. The shuffling of footsteps drew closer and he heard Brenda and Julian’s voices talking as they entered their room across the hall.

“I’m telling you,” Brenda whispered, “he’s pregnant.”

Griffin sucked in a deep breath, wondering how on Earth they figured that out. He’d made certain to keep his purchase of the pregnancy test secret from Julian when they stopped at the store. Then, he realized that it was probably obvious, all the symptoms were there, right in front of him and them.

“Well at least this time he’ll have a kid that’s actually his,” Julian retorted.

Griffin stood up sharply from the bed but remained, unmoving as the words sunk in and his heart raced.

“You don’t know that Leighton isn’t his,” Brenda chastised. “You’re being foolish, Julian. That child could be his.”

Julian grumbled, “You and I both saw that picture of Leighton. He’s a spitting image of Brian Kinney.”

“Or maybe with Justin and Griff’s features combined, it appears that way. Do you really think Justin would ever lie to Brian about his child? He loves him.”

“He may not be lying, Bren. He may not know. You know they were both flying on E at our party that night. They didn’t step out of their room for hours. I thought that finally they were both going to admit their feelings for each other.”

“Well they must not have. Otherwise, Justin wouldn’t have gotten together with Griffin and made a child with him.”

Julian groaned. “Whatever. You believe what you want. If I were Griffin, I’d be asking for a D.N.A. test. Hey! Where are you going?”

“Downstairs,” Brenda spoke harshly. “I want to finish cleaning up the kitchen or something. I don’t think I could go to sleep now that you’ve got my mind running wild.”

“Fine,” Julian grumbled. “I’ll come help you.”

Griffin licked his dry lips and forced himself to breathe as he listened to the couple walk back downstairs. As the sound of their steps faded, his tears fell down his face. “It can’t be true,” he whispered aloud and began to pace. “Brian and Justin swore that nothing happened that weekend. They swore that they are only friends. They’d never lie to me. Julian never liked me, from the beginning. Brenda is right. She has to be right. Any similarities between Leighton and Brian are pure coincidence. There’s no way Justin would deceive Brian and me. I know he cheated on me, but he was honest about that. He loves Leighton; he’d never keep him from his father. But what if… what if…? Maybe I should confront him. Even if Brian and Justin get pissed at me for calling them out, maybe I should?”

Griffin stopped his pacing when the timer on his watch started to beep. He hit the button to silence it and rushed back into the bathroom. His eyes landed on the test stick and he saw the readout on the digital screen. “I’m pregnant,” he choked out, feeling a mixture of emotions catapult through his body. “I’m pregnant with Brian’s child.”

Griffin’s hands shook as he picked up the stick and read the result over and over. He and Brian hadn’t ever spoken about this possibility. They were, in a sense, taking things slow. Brian never proposed marriage and he’d never thought about it. Until now. Now, everything would change. He and Brian would be connected forever. They would be a family. They would have the family he had always wanted to have, the family Brian had always told him he wanted, in so many words. And now, Griffin could give that to both of them.

He placed his hand over his stomach just as his cell phone rang in the bedroom. He rushed to it, found it in his carry on and read the caller ID display. Brian had chose that moment to call him, as if he must’ve some how known that Griffin would need him. It was fate, Griffin was sure of that as he flipped open his cell. “Hello?”

“Griff?” Brian asked worriedly. “Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“I’m…I’m okay,” Griffin spoke softly. He swallowed a deep breath and sat down on the bed. “I’m just…”

“What happened?” Brian asked in alarm, hearing Griffin’s worried tone. “Was Julian an asshole or something? Did he piss all over the campaign ideas?”

“No,” Griffin said strongly. “It isn’t that Brian.”

“Then what’s going on? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m pregnant,” Griffin admitted. “I took a test just a minute ago and it says I’m pregnant, Brian.”

Brian’s relief pushed a deep breath against the receiver of the phone and vibrated into Griffin’s ear. “Okay,” he whispered. “That’s all then? You’re okay? Nothing bad happened?”

“Yes. I’m okay. I just want to come home. I want to be with you, right now.”

“You’ll be coming home the day after tomorrow,” Brian said gently. “Then we can be together, talk about… our baby and our future.”

“Okay, but Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“You want to be a dad, right? Even though this was an accident you’re still happy to have a baby with me?”

“Yes,” Brian said firmly. “And it wasn’t an accident. I can’t believe you’d even say that. He who only believes in divine Karma and fate.”

Griffin wiped his tears and spoke in a soft voice, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Griffin, more than you’ll ever know.”

 

***
 

July 8th 2007
Brian’s Point of View

This is the land of the living
This is the land of reprisal
This is the land of the living
The living
In myself I try for you

“He’s finally asleep,” I whisper, my voice sounding foreign to my ears.

“You can lay him down now,” Justin replies, giving me a small smile.

“I don’t want to,” I tell him. “Even though I’ve known him, loved him for his whole life, it’s different now that…” The lump that forms in my throat prevents me from speaking and I find myself huffing small sobs as I cradle my son close to my chest.

“You’re his father,” Justin finishes for me. He places one of his hands on my back and the other on Leighton’s head. “I feel so stupid, not knowing you were his father,” he cries softly, burying his face against my shoulder.

“Let me lay him down and we’ll go talk in the bedroom,” I tell him, turning my body so that I can place Leighton’s head on his pillow.

Justin stands up and reaches for my hand. “Come on, Dada,” he speaks, his voice cracking.

I look up at him and take his hand; the orange glow from the lamp sitting on our son’s dresser, illuminates Justin’s face, bringing forth a recollection of the past which I hadn’t thought about it years.

Shortly after I started living at the Taylors’ home, I woke up from a horrible nightmare. I kept thinking that my father was standing in the shadows somewhere, waiting to pounce on me the minute I went back to sleep. Jennifer did all she could to calm me down but I couldn’t stop shaking in fear, even with her holding me. Then Justin brought the same tiny, orange basketball lamp into my room for me. It was the perfect amount of light to see around my room and when he crawled in to sleep with me, I held onto him as if he was my own teddy bear and was able to fall asleep peacefully.

That’s what I want now, to crawl into Leighton’s bed and hold onto them both. “Let’s sleep in here,” I request, pulling him to sit back down.

Justin smiles softly and nods his head. “Okay, but I want to change into some sweats first,” he whispers.

“Me too,” I say, standing up, still holding his hand.

We walk into our bedroom, silent expect our tired breaths, but we both hold them the moment we notice the letter and unopened package sitting on the bed. “Shit,” I breathe out.

Justin lets go of my hand and grabs the package. “I forgot to give this to Leighton. Griff wanted me to…”

“I don’t give a fuck what he wanted,” I grit out, suddenly awash with anger. “He’s upset Leighton, all of us enough. I want to see what it is before he opens it any way. I don’t want him to freak out again.”

Justin gives me a confused look and asks, “Why are you mad at Griffin?”

“Are you serious?” I stalk over to my dresser and pull us both out a pair of sweat pants. “He lied to us! For years he suspected…”

“For years we didn’t!” Justin interrupts me. He throws the clothes he’s wearing right at me and then pulls on his pair of sweatpants. “Why would he want to believe a far-fetched idea that to him and the people whom he loved the most, would be devastating if it were true? If anyone should’ve told or known the truth, it’s you and I, Brian!”

“But he should’ve told us, Justin,” I tell him. “It’s been what? Nine months since he got the results. All this time…”

“Do you love him any different? Do you? Do you love our son any different than the way you loved him yesterday?”

“No, I don’t love him any differently. It’s just that now, I’m allowed to love him the way I have since the day he was born.”

“I don’t understand,” he speaks softly. “Do you think I wouldn’t allow you to love him? Have I ever stood in the way of it?”

“You took him to Chicago.” I know that’s not his fault, and I know that I shouldn’t have said it.

He rushes over to the bedroom door, slams it closed and turns to me, his face contorted with anger. “I didn’t know he was your child! You didn’t know! I took him to Chicago with me with Griffin’s permission. He was his father, Brian.”

“But if it were me, if you knew that I was, would you have taken him?”

“How can you expect me to answer a question that has absolutely no basis in reality?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

He walks up to me, puts his hand on my cheek, and stares into my eyes. “Do you want me to tell you that because I loved you, I would feel differently about taking Leighton from you than how I felt taking him from Griffin?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“I can’t,” he says hoarsely. “Because if I knew that I was carrying your baby, I never would’ve married Griffin. I never would have let you go. You would’ve been mine, Brian. You may hate me and think I’m the biggest asshole in the world for admitting this, but I wished he were yours many, many, times. When I was pregnant and we’d go out together and people would see us, smile at us, I knew it was because they were thinking that we were a happy couple, looking forward to the birth of our child.”

“I remember that.”

“Yeah,” he says smiling. “This one day Leighton was kicking a lot and you kept touching my stomach, you wouldn’t stop, not that I minded. Anyway, you took me to a baby store and we picked out a bunch of baby clothes. You went to the bathroom and the shop clerk came up to me and asked me how far along I was and he gushed about how beautiful our child would be because he thought we were both gorgeous. I didn’t tell him differently, I couldn’t. I wanted it to be true and for the rest of the day, I imaged that it was. I even had a dream that night of us walking down the street, each of us holding one of his hands.”

“I imagined those same things Justin. But I was so confused about feeling that way. I passed those feelings off because I thought they were manifested, somehow, because I was jealous that you were having a child with Griffin and I wasn’t.”

“I didn’t stop wanting that, after I had him. I felt guilty because I didn’t want Leighton when I found out I was pregnant; I wanted to get an abortion, remember?”

“Yes, I… I wouldn’t let you.”

“Imagining that it was your child, knowing that you wanted the baby, made me want the baby too, Brian. It was wrong, feeling like that. It drove me crazy.”

I take him into my arms and hold him against me. “You weren’t crazy,” I tell him. “Maybe it was your subconscious telling you the truth. Maybe that’s why I felt that way too? I just can’t believe we really didn’t realize we fucked that night of Julian’s party. I remembered you using that dildo and I jerked off while I watched you, but I thought that was it. I wish I could remember it.”

“Me too,” he whispers. Suddenly, his body starts shaking and he’s crying desperate sounding sobs, muffled against my bare chest. “At least we know now,” he mumbles. “At least we found out and Griffin gave us that.” He looks up at me, tears still falling helplessly down his cheeks. “Please, don’t be angry, Brian. We’re barely able to handle the truth now, can you imagine what it’d be like if Griffin had told us the truth then? Hell, he wasn’t sure that we didn’t already know and were hiding it from him.”

“When Julian and Brenda visited you in Chicago last September they came here after visiting you guys. Julian kept saying that Leighton reminded him exactly of how I behaved. I wonder if that’s one of the reasons why he finally decided to find out.”

“Must be,” he agrees, stepping out of my arms. He grabs the package and picks it up. “Do you want to open it?”

“No, I tell him. I think we should do as Griffin asks,” I reply. “We’ll give it to him in the morning.”

“Then come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go to sleep.”

 

***
 

Saturday, October 12th 1996
3rd Person P.O.V.

Walk a thousand miles to get us through
Airways
Jet planes
Safe landings
No brandings
Land
Land
Land
Land

“Come on,” Brian growls in Justin’s ear. “You’ve danced enough.”

Justin pushed Brian away from him and giggled, “No such thing as enough. You taught me that.”

Brian watched Justin dance for another moment, standing still amongst the mass of dancers surrounding him. His dick was hard as rock and his balls were heavy and begging for release. There were men, many men at the party that would love a go at taking care of his hard on. In fact, he’d been sucked off twice already in the bathroom. But, after he’d taken the two hits of ecstasy, the forbidden feeling that started in his body, in an untouchable place, started to throb and grow like wildfire.

For the last hour, he’d tried to distract himself by talking with the guys, taking shots and dancing with his friends. Brenda’s father owned the hotel and for the weekend, it had been reserved for everyone to party. One of the ballrooms was turned into a billiard room, another into the dance club and the pool was decked out to look like you stepped into a spa.

Many things could’ve distracted Brian. Yet the whole time, his eyes darted back and forth to Justin. Usually, he watched him to keep an eye on him, knowing that the younger man was also tripping, made him go into protective, older brother mode.

But he watched Justin differently tonight. He watched who he danced with, but his eyes were on the way Justin danced. The tiny black t-shirt that rode up on Justin’s torso, revealing glowing, creamy skin, called to Brian. The movement of Justin’s hips, working in perfect rhythm to the beat of the song playing which Justin owned, it connected itself to the beating of Brian’s heart and sent his blood pumping through his veins in a cadence designed for him.

Brian could smell Justin’s sweat and cologne as he waited for the blond. He knew that Justin would turn away from the brunet he was dancing with as soon he felt he’d given Brian enough of a show. That’s just how it worked with them. They’d go out partying, put on a show for one another and go home. Sometimes they’d bring guys home and fuck them together, still putting on a show. It turned them both on, but they rarely ever touched one another, sticking to their own beds or couches.

Brian and Justin started calling what they were doing, experimenting. Later, it advanced to messing around. They only truly fucked three times. One of those times there was someone else in the room with them.

Tonight, Brian didn’t want anyone else in the room with them. He wanted to watch Justin lose himself as he fucked himself on the new dildo he’d bought at the porn shop in town. Brian stared at Justin’s ass while he ground up against his dance partner. He imagined the blond’s legs spread, back bowed, as he slowly pushed the dark red phallus inside his hole. Brian would be on his own bed in the room, slowly jerking his cock and talking up a dirty fantasy for both of their pleasure.

The images flashing through Brian’s mind over rode his patience. He grabbed Justin around the waist and pulled him against him. “You’ve been behaving like a whore,” Brian spoke into Justin’s ear.

“I have?” Justin asked, turning his head up, mocking a frown while he ground his ass against Brian’s crotch.

“Hey, he’s with me,” the brunet dancer yelled over the music and grabbed for Justin’s arm.

“You want him?” Brian asked courteously. He’d never get in between what Justin wanted with a trick.

Justin looked at the brunet dancer and then back at Brian. He slipped out of Brian’s arm, took his hand and pulled him with him.

“Guess that answers my question,” Brian yelled over the music, following Justin out of the club space and into the hotel’s hall. The E in his system soared with every footstep he took toward the elevators.

“You’ve been thinking about the dildo I bought,” Justin whispered in his ear as the elevator doors closed.

“Mhmm,” he purred into Justin’s ear and stepped away from him. Brian waited for the two couples in the elevator to get off on their floors. The instant the doors closed, he shoved Justin up against the elevator wall and attacked his mouth with a bruising, crushing, kiss.

Justin’s legs wrapped around Brian and he humped himself against him. “I’m weightless,” he giggled in Brian’s ear, flicking it with his tongue as he talked. “I’m flying with you, Brian.”

“Flying,” Brian agreed, sucking on Justin’s neck and tasting the color of his skin. He saw the colors in a wave of euphoria as the flavors washed over him. Justin was as sweet as vanilla ice cream, hot as red chili peppers and as earthy as cumin. The combination was dangerous, heady and more orgasmic than anything Brian had ever tasted before. It alone induced the trance Brian entered, calling Justin along with him.
 

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