Chapter 15

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Justin

I shake the water out of my hair and reach over to turn off the shower. Daphne will be here soon to pick me up for school. She bitched a lot about having to come all the way over, but Brian can't take me this morning like he ususally does when I spend the night. I move into his bedroom, drying myself off, and look through the glass panels into the living room, seeing that Lindsay has arrived with Gus. Brian is sitting, feeding his son while Lindsay flits around spouting out instructions.

"So he takes a nap around eleven," she's telling Brian. "And another one around three."

"Lucky him," I call out.

"And all his emergency numbers," she continues, waving a sheet of paper. "Oh, and if you want to take him outside, make sure he wears his little beanie hat. He looks so adorable." Brian rolls his eyes and I smile to myself, knowing how he feels about the way Lindsay dresses Gus.

I'm halfway dresses when I come down the bedroom steps holding one shoe. "Has anyone seen my other shoe?" I ask.

"Oh, is that what I'm sitting on? It wasn't one of my usual rubber toys," he cracks.

"Brian, are you listening to me?" Lindsay sounds annoyed.

"Yeah, feeding time, nap time, beanie hat. I got it. He'll be fine, Lindsay," Brian looks up at her.

"I know he will be and I appreciate you doing this on such short notice, but now that I have to go back to work, I have to attend this damn teacher's conference."

"Well," Brian says. "Maybe you'll meet a nice lady P.E. teacher," he waggles his tongue at her.

God he can be such an ass. Anyone can see she's in no mood to be teased. "Don't worry," I say as I kneel down to see Gus. "I'll keep an eye on him, too."

"I don't need you to keep an eye on him," Brian snarks at me.

I look at him. "I meant you."

"I'm his father," he growls. "I'm not going to fuck it up!" He looks down at Gus. "Would you please tell them to give me some credit."

"I am," Lindsay replies. "That's why I'm leaving him in your care."

"Bullshit," he says. "You're leaving him with me because Melanie's going to go see her Yenta mother in Miami and won't be back till Sunday."

Lindsay ignores him. "Here's my number at the conference. There you go."

"He's gonna be fine, Mom," Brian says to Lindsay in that gentle way he has with her when he wants her to know he's being serious.

"I know, Dad," she replies in the same tone.

She kisses Gus and stands up, sighing. Brian holds Gus closer. "Are you ready to spend a weekend with your old man, Sonny boy? Hmmm?" he asks the baby as he uses his thumb to gently wipe the milk off his chin.

I think they'll be fine. No one ever gives Brian enough credit. Finally I'm ready for school and Lindsay is ready to leave. We both kiss Brian and Gus and then leave them to their own devices. I give Lindsay's arm a reassuring squeeze before I quickly hop into Daphne's car.

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Brian

Michael and I are sitting in a booth at the diner with Gus in his seat on the table between us. "Apparently, he's this card playing, juggling, jazz playing webmaster," Michael says to me. "What if he hates me?"

"Who?" asks Justin as he comes over carrying a tub of dishes and parks his bubble butt on top of the booth next to my face. Not nice to tease, Sunshine.

"David's son," Mikey tells him.

"Fuck him," I say. "He's just a kid."

"He's not just a kid," Mikey replies. "He's David's son and you know what that means."

Justin giggles from behind me. "You're the wicked stepmother?"

Mikey gets a panicked look on his face. "What?"

"You're the wicked stepmother," Justin repeats, sounding like a witch. I start to crack up. Fuck, he's a smart kid. "Like in fairy tales," Justin laughs.

"Well, why don't you get your fairy tail back to work? Isn't there a toilet you need to spit shine?" Sometimes they're so much like brothers it's spooky.

"You're so pathetic, Mikey. He's not going to hate you," I intervene before Justin can make a crack and make it worse.

"What makes you so sure?" Mikey asks me.

"I'm crazy about you," I tell him. He picks up his water and nervously drinks. I reach over and grab his hand. "What is with you?"

"He's right," Michael says. "I'm...I'm a stepmother. Me, I'm the stepmother."

Deb walks up and Justin hurries away to look busy. "Who's the stepmother?" she coos, her attention solely on Gus.

"Mikey," I coo back with a grin.

"David's son is coming in for the weekend," Mikey tells Deb.

"What do you think of that?" Deb asks Gus. She pushes into the booth, cramming a hapless Mikey way into the corner. "Look at you, you're so beautiful," she says as she plays with Gus. "I swear to God, Brian. He's getting to look more like you every day."

I bet that just burns Mel's up, I grin to myself. "Yeah, well, we're still working on the hair," I say.

"Where's Lindsay?" Deb asks.

"She's at a teachers' conference, so I'm watching him for the weekend."

"You? I'd be afraid to let you water my plants." Thanks for the fucking vote of confidence, Deb. Justin comes back over and sits down again. "Do you even know what a Huggie is?"

"Here's a hint," adds Michael. "It's not a sexual position."

"Of course I do, it's uh...uh..."

"A diaper," all three of them say.

"Yeah, I know all about diapers. I was fucking this guy for a while." Deb reaches up and covers Gus' ears. Like he understands what the fuck I'm saying. "The CEO of a big corporation. He used to like to wear diapers when I spanked him!"

"Gross," Justin comments.

"Kinky," Deb corrects him. She looks back to me. "Isn't this weekend the Leather Ball? I would have thought that your dance card would be full."

"I know it's tempting," I reply as I reach over and pull Gus out of he seat. "But this year I'm trading in my leather jock strap for...rubber pants." I pull Gus in close. "Isn't that right, Sonny Boy?"

Just then I'm distracted by a hot guy, who looks like he's celebrating the Leather Ball early. My eyes follow him through the diner and out the door. Fuck me.

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Gus is crying and I admit to feeling a little helpless as to what to do about it. Fed. Dry. Just woke up. So, what the fuck is wrong? Maybe it's the injustice of having to live with lesbians. I have no fucking clue. I hold up his pacifier. "Gus, come on. Look, look." I put the thing in my own mouth, hoping he'll get a clue. He's still crying. "It's your pacifier, you should be sucking it," I tell him.

Just then the buzzer rings and I go to answer it, tripping over toys on the way. "It's about fucking time," I say into the intercom. "I ordered an hour ago." I push the button to let them in and go back to my crying son. I grab the pacifier again and hold it up. "Gus, think nipple. Think cock. Come on, whatever gets you there." He finally starts sucking on the fucking thing and I feel a rush of relief. "Your old man's not so bad at this," I tell him.

The delivery guy knocks and I move to answer it. "You better not have forgotten the fucking sesame noodles this time." I slide the door open. "It's about time! I ca..." I trail of when I see my father standing there. Jack fucking Kinney here at my loft. What the fuck?

"Hey, Sonny Boy," he says.

"Jesus," is all I can think to say.

"Yeah, well, you couldn't be more surprised if it was," he responds.

He looks around. "You gonna let me in?"

"Uh, sure," I reply as I step out of the way.

Jack steps inside. "Hey, some place. Big as a palace. Looks like a dump from the outside." Gus starts fussing again and it catches Jack's attention. "Hey," he says as he walks over. "Who's this?"

I hurry over too. "This is Gus. He's uh, Lindsay's kid. You remember Lindsay?" There's no way I'm telling this old bastard that Gus is mine. I have to protect my son from the hell that is my family.

"Ah, tallish, blond. You used to take her out," he replies as I nod. He starts to wave his keys over Gus' head. "She was a pretty girl. She's go one hell of a cute son." He looks at me. "She leaves him with you?" He heads over to the living area.

"Sometimes," I reply as I pick Gus up and follow him, finally gathering my wits about me. "So what are you doing wandering around town? A lady friend? Aren't you a little bit old for that."

"That's not it," he replies as he moves some baby clothes to sit on the couch.

"Need money?" I ask.

"No, I didn't come for your fuckin' money."

"Mom finally leave ya?"

He looks up at me. "I've got cancer. Started in my lungs, but it's already spread. My brilliant doctors discovered it on an x-ray during my physical last summer. Now, seems it's everywhere."

I sit down with Gus and all the wits that I had gathered after his surprise visit seem to have left me again after his bombshell. I finally muster a, "sorry."

"I would rather the warden do the honors, but she insisted that you and your sister hear it from me personally. So." He throws up his hands. "You're hearing it from me."

"Thanks," I reply. I don't know what to do with this. I really fucking don't.

The delivery man comes through the open door. "'Sesame noodles," he says holding up the bag. "I remembered this time."

All I can do is sit and hold my son.

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Justin

"How do you want your waffles?" I ask Vic as I grab his plate. I decided to cook breakfast for him and Deb this morning. "With peaches in Grand Marnier or Cherries and rum?"

"Better yet, Wolfgang, why don't you just forget the waffles, and just serve the sauce, straight up!"

I smile over at Vic and then Brian blows into the kitchen carrying Gus in his carseat. "Gus just puked all over me," he rants as he sets the seat on the table and goes to the sink to clean up.

"Babies do that," I say to Brian from my spot at the stove.

"Hmph, all over my favorite leather jacket," he complains.

"A fashion critic already," Vic says while he rocks the baby.

"Look who's here!" Deb yells as she comes into the kitchen. "Ohhh, can I hold him?" She unbuckles Gus from his seat.

"Yeah, be my guest," Brian tells her.

"Oh, look at you," she coos at Gus. "Look at you. How are you gorgeous, Gus?"

"He's aces," Brian says, "but I suspect he misses his mother's touch."

"Ah, well, I'll take care of that," Deb replies as she holds Gus close.

"You know," Brian starts. "If you'd be interested in satisfying your maternal urges for a longer period of time, recreating the amber hues of Michael's childhood for an entire evening, for instance. That could be arranged."

Deb chuckles. "You want to go to the Leather Ball, huh?"

"Mmmm," he growls at her. "You're good."

"Yeah," she replies, "but you're barking up the wrong babysitter. Cause I got the graveyard shift at the diner, don't I?" she asks Gus as she holds him up in the air.

Vic shakes one of his many pill bottles and finds it empty. "I'll be right back," he says as he goes upstairs.

"Make sure you wash it down with bottled water," Deb calls after him. "None of shit from the Susquehanna!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he yells back to her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she replies quietly with a small laugh.

Brian stands and contemplates all of Vic's meds. "Must be tough living with that," he says as he walks into the living room.

I take Gus from Deb and she follows him.

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Brian

"Brian, honey," Deb says with concern. "You're not...?" She doesn't finish.

I smirk at her. "No, but my dad's got cancer."

"Your dad's sick?" Justin asks from the kitchen.

"He came over last night," I respond. "To tell me that."

"I'm so sorry," says Deb. I just shrug. "How long's he got?"

"A couple months, tops." I move over to a chair and sit down.

"Well, then," Deb says. "If you don't mind some free advice, from someone who's known you a lot longer than you've known yourself, you should tell him."

"Tell him what?" I'm being purposely obtuse, but I know where she's going with this and I don't want to follow.

"You know damn well. Don't play dumb." Busted. She keeps talking. "He made a very big gesture in telling you about himself, I'm saying you should return the favor."

"No fucking way! My father hasn't known anything about my life for twenty-nine years, or cared, why should I bother now?"

Deb sits down next to me. "Because it's good for you."

"To tell a dying man I'm queer."

"To be honest."

"I'm always honest."

"You think you are. How honest is it to let your father go to his grave without ever really knowing who his son is, honey?"

Fuck, I don't want to listen to this anymore. Jack doesn't give a shit about me. Doesn't she realize that? I get up and move away from her.

Of course, she fucking follows me. "Look, I know you think he never loved you, but it might be a way to get through to him. For whatever it's worth, before it's too late."

"If I wanted a therapist," I tell her. "I'd look in the fucking Yellow Pages."

"Yeah, but I'm a hell of a lot cheaper, and I don't take off August," she cracks back.

I smirk at her and go back into the kitchen where Justin is still holding a fussy Gus. "I bet he's hungry," says Justin. "Can I feed him?"

I'm suddenly struck by an idea. I kneel on the chair next to Justin and lean in close to him. "What are you doing tonight?"

He simply smiles at me and I know I'll be going to the ball tonight after all. Just like Cinder-fucking-ella.

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After hanging with Ted, Emmett and Emmett's butttless chaps for a while I decide to make my way to the backroom. Tonight leather is the word back here and it's fucking hot. I grab the straps of the harness that this guy is wearing and push him face first against the wall.

Suddenly there's a big leather daddy grabbing me. "Hey, little boy. Want to come back to my place." I know this is kind of the name of the game tonight, but I don't want to play that way.

"No," I say as I shrug him off. "Fuck you." I try to go back to my trick, but this guy will not leave me alone. I turn to him. "I said, fuck you! You're not my daddy. I don't need a fucking..." I pause. "...daddy." And then stupid unbidden images of my cancer ridden father pop up into my head and I can't...I just can't do this anymore. I turn around and leave the club.

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"Mel, I had no idea," I can hear Justin saying as I walk through my door.

When I get back to the loft I am unhappily greeted by hurricane Melanie in full bitch mode with Gus in her arms. "He was going to give the baby hot milk," she says as she approaches me. "He didn't test it on his arm."

"I had no idea," Justin pleads.

"It's a good thing I walked in when I did," she says. "Gus could have been scalded."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Justin sounds like he's almost in tears.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I finally ask. I'm really in no mood for her shit right now.

"I came back early from Miami and there's a message on my voicemail from Lindsay, saying that she left Gus here with you, so I came by to check on him and it's a good goddamned thing I did!" She moves over to me. "Pawning him off on anyone so you can go to a fucking Leather Ball?"

"Hey, Justin's not anyone!" I retort.

"I love Gus," says Justin desperately.

"Baby, I know you do, honey," Mel says to him. "This isn't about you. Here, take him." She puts the baby into Justin's arms and then turns back to me. "This is about you." She points her finger at me. "And what an irresponsible shit you are!"

"Listen, I went out for a couple of hours," I tell her.

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have been out at all! You see, the thing about parenthood is, you don't get anonymous sex breaks twice a day. Now, give me your car keys."

"Excuse me?" I ask her.

"I said give me your car keys so I can go get the baby seat out of the back of your Jeep!" She takes the baby back from Justin. "I'm taking Gus home."

Jesus, she has some gall. "No, you're not," I tell her. I snort out a mirthless laugh as I glance over to Justin. "This is his home. At least for this weekend."

"Sorry," she replies. "Your privileges have been revoked."

I snap and turn on her. "Don't fucking tell me what my privileges are! I'm his father. Who are you?" By the look on her face, I can tell I cut her to the quick, and maybe I went to far, but fuck no one can make me as angry as Melanie.

She kisses the side of Gus' head and looks up at me. "I may be no one, but at least I love him enough to know that his needs come before mine, which is more than can be said for you."

I honestly don't have a reply for that.

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"Hey, how'd it go last night, Daddy?" Deb greets me as I enter the diner and slide into the booth across from Emmett and Theodore.

I unwind my scarf from my neck. "Would you mind not using that word in my presence?"

"Ooh, grouchy, huh?" she retorts. "That's what happens when you tend to a tot. It's not a pretty job, but I'm proud of you, Brian, sacrificing the Leather Ball. Ooh, that's big."

"Altruism is his middle name," Emmett looks across the table at me knowingly.

"Oh, is that what the A stands for?" says Theodore sending me the same look.

"I didn't think in a million years you'd give up an event like that," Deb continues. I wish she'd just shut up and take our orders already. "So I tip my hat, or should I say my wig?" she cackles. "To you kid, for taking care of your kid!"

Justin approaches in his diner garb with his ever present dish bucket. "Actually," he starts, "I'm the one that..."

"Psst," I interrupt him. I grab the strap of his apron and pull his face down close to mine. "Give me up and I'll tie your balls so tight they'll ache for a week," I say in his ear.

"Is this punishment?" he whispers back and I forget that there are things we haven't tried yet. I actually get hard under the table.

"Mmm hmm," I answer, nodding, and shifting ever so slightly in my seat.

"I helped!" he says to Deb brightly.

"Did ya, honey?" she coos to him. "Good, baby." She turns her attention back to taking orders.

"Well, all this talk about babies has given me a craving for the baby back ribs," states Emmett.

"You got it," says Deb as she writes.

"I'll have, uh the..." Theodore starts.

"Tuna fish on white bread..." says Emmett.

"Double mayo..." Deb adds.

I take a turn. "Potato chips and cole slaw..."

"And vanilla pudding," finishes Justin.

"Christ, am I really that predictable," asks Theodore.

"No, honey, just reliable," Deb assures him.

"Thanks ever so," he replies.

"It's just not your style to be, spontaneous..." Emmett tells him as he reaches over and messes up Theodore's hair. "...wild, reckless."

"No, it's my style to never take a chance, never let myself go, put my ass in a sling, on the line," Theodore says dejectedly.

"Honey," Deb replies. "It's only lunch."

"Yeah, well, in that case, I will have the Cajun catfish, with the, uh, pad Thai noodles, and the uh, mango salsa on the side," Ted orders.

"Letting go does not mean getting the runs," Deb chides him.

"Give him the usual," I tell Deb. I turn to Theodore. "It doesn't matter what you eat. You'll always be old...old reliable Ted," I smile sweetly at him.

Ted doesn't respond and we get our food, with his same boring lunch and life fucking goes on. I say, you're an accountant, you're boring, get the fuck over it already.

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Later that night I pull up in front of my parent's house, take a deep breath and get out of my Jeep. I notice that the garage door is open and the light is on. When I get closer, I see my dad in there moving boxes around.

Jack turns around as I approach. "Hey. Your mom's in the kitchen. Get yourself a cup of coffee and get me a refill, would ya?"

I walk further into the garage. "I'm not here to see her, actually." He doesn't reply and I can see that he's breathing hard from all his exertion. "Shouldn't you be taking it easy?"

"I'll have plenty of time to take it easy," he breathes out. "There's years of stuff out here. I need to...I want to..." he lifts another box, "...get it in order." He sets the box down. "Wait until you see this, Sonny Boy." He pulls out his old bowling ball and tosses it to me. "Ta daa!" He laughs.

I examine the ball. "What was that team you used to bowl with?"

"Eastway Kings!" he replies. "You used to come with me, when you were what? Eight? Nine? Remember that?"

"Yeah," I reply as I move over to put the ball back in a box.

"I always hoped you'd take it up," he comments as he rummages through another box.

"Listen," I say to him. "About the other night, I..."

"I know, I should have called before I dropped in," he interrupts me. "Like the Warden says, 'That's what they make telephones for.'" He turns and loses his hold on the box he's holding. "Oh, fuck."

I bend down to pick it up for him. "I've got it." I look at him as I stand up and place the box on the pile. "We need to talk."

"You know, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you say that," he says.

"Yeah, that's probably because that's the first time I ever have," I retort. "I just thought that maybe we could, uh..."

"Sneak it under the wire," he finishes for me. He chuckles. "Hey, I got some books here," he says as he reaches into yet another carton."

Well, fuck it. Now or never. "I'm gay," I say simply.

He turns to look at me and all we do is stand and stare at one another for a few moments. Finally he says something. "Well, you picked a hell of a fucking time to tell me you're a fairy. As if I don't have enough to deal with. Jesus."

He looks into my eyes and seriously, I'm not kidding, says; "You're the one who should be dying instead of me." Real fucking nice thing for a father to tell his son, huh?

I turn on him and pull back to throw a punch. Wouldn't I just fucking love to punch the old bastard, just like all those times he used his fucking fists on me. I pull back at the last minute and turn my anger on a pile of boxes, knocking them to the ground with my fist. I look at the man who is my father. "But I'm not dying, you selfish old prick! " I smile slightly, and fuck if this doesn't hurt and feel good all at the same time. What the fuck is up with that? "You are," I tell him, and walk away.

When I climb back in my Jeep, I have to fucking will away the tears that want to come as I rest my head on the steering wheel for a moment. When will I ever stop letting him hurt me? The answer seeps unbidden into my brain. Probably never.

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Lindsay is fucking practically waiting to pounce on me when I get home from work the next day. She and Gus follow me into the loft and even into my bedroom while I take off my work clothes. She plops them both down on my bed and starts in on me right away. "You gave me your word! You swore I could trust you with him!"

"Look," I say to her. "Your ex already reamed me out."

"Well, now it's my turn," she snaps. "You said you wanted to be his parent. If that's true then fucking well be one, but don't tell me you'll be there for him when you're not!" She smacks my arm and points at me. Fuck, all right. I'm a shitty father. I fucking get it already. But she's not done. "You've never been there for anyone else, other than yourself!" Hey, didn't I just write her a fucking sizeable check not to long ago, even though I was in serious danger of losing my job? I guess that's easy to get in righteous anger. It's not like Justin was fucking going to kill Gus. So the kid would have burned his tongue a bit. Christ!

Lindsay's rant is disrupted by a knock on my door and a familiar voice. "Hey, Sonny Boy, hello?"

I come down the steps of my bedroom and there's my fucking father standing there. Fuck, that's all I need. "What are you doing here?" I ask him, not bothering to hide the venom in my voice.

He raises his arms in surrender. "I'll only be a minute." He pulls something out of his coat pocket. "I found something in one of the boxes and thought you might want it." He hands me a picture. "That's me and you when you were four months old."

I study it, trying to fit that happy man and baby into what I know was my decidedly unhappy childhood. "Why are you smiling?" I ask him.

"It's a photograph," he retorts. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"I don't want it," I tell him as I toss the photo on the floor move back into my bedroom.

"You might change your mind once I'm gone," he calls after me.

"I doubt it," I fire back as I turn and look at him.

"You know, you can really pack a wallop for a fag," he says. Then he continues. "Just don't tell your mother, you understand? She'll be at fucking mass three times a day, praying for..." he trails off when he sees Lindsay sitting on my bed.

"Mr. Kinney," she says to him as she stands up. "You probably don't remember me, but, I'm Lindsay. Peterson."

"Of course I remember you," he replies. "Although it's been a long time. You're still a looker."

Lindsay laughs a bit. "Thank you, Mr. Kinney."

He points at her. "Jack."

Oh brother. "You still think you're a ladie's man?" I ask him bitterly.

He ignores me and turns back to Lindsay. "You have yourself a beautiful son," he tells her. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way," Jack finally says as he turns to go.

"There's someone else I want you to meet," I call out to him. What the fuck? He's fucking dying, right? I bring Gus to the top of the stairs and Jack turns around to stare at me in confusion. "Your grandson," I tell him.

"My grandson," he repeats as he walks back over. "What the fuck's going on? Are you screwing with me, Sonny Boy?"

"No, I'm not screwing with you," I reply.

"Jack, would you like to hold him?" offers Lindsay. I shoot her a look. Is she fucking crazy?

"Oh, I...it's been awhile, you know, since I held a baby." He's nodding, though, and reaches for the baby.

Lindsay stands by to supervise and I walk over to the spot where I had dropped the picture. I pick it up and look at it and then over to my father holding my son in a mirror like pose. Images of my own miserable childhood overlay the scene, and I truly am not sure how to feel. That's why I usually find it's best not to feel anything at all.

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