A Shoulder To Lean On

"I've already told you, I'm not bringing Gus back to your place until all of this funeral business is over. What do you mean, he should be with his family? Who do you think I am? I'm his father, or have you forgotten? No I'm not being insensitive. Gus is scared shitless. He thinks you're going to kill him, and put him in a box like Jenny Rebecca. He's a little boy for Christ sake, and I won't have him traumatized by your religious voodoo rituals. If your wife needs a male shoulder to lean on tell her to go get herself a REAL man. She's not going to lean on my kid..….!"

Gus laid quietly on the sofa, and listened to the one-sided argument his father was waging with whoever was on the other end of the telephone line. From what was being said, he was pretty sure that it was his mom trying to convince his pop to bring him home. Gus rolled over, and covered his head with the sheet. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep his father wouldn't take him back to his mommies' house. Things weren't the same there since Jenny Rebecca died. Mommy Mel was crying all the time, and there was nothing Lindsey could do to stop her.

"I told you I was sorry about the casket. I didn't mean to knock it over, and I wouldn't have if those two old men weren't hanging onto my waist.." Brian continued.

Gus covered his ears, and tried to block out the mental image of Jenny Rebecca's body falling out of the little brown box. To make matters worst, one of the creepy old men had accidentally kicked it, causing it to slide over by Gus's feet.

"Shivah? What the hell is that? Seven days? You took my kid out of school for seven days just to sit around the house and cry? That's fucking morbid Linz, and you know it. I don't give a damn if it is tradition!" Brian continued to argue his point. "Fine, I'll bring him home tomorrow, but tonight Gus is staying here at the loft with me. Now where's Michael? Put him on the phone. What do you mean he won't talk to me? I can't be there, and here with Gus at the same time. Alright, since he won't talk to me, will you tell him that I'm sorry for what happened? Tell him that I love him, and that I'll see him tomorrow. Will you do that for me Linz?"

Brian hung up the telephone, and sat down on the edge of the bed. During all of the commotion at the funeral he had never gotten a chance to comfort his friend. It seemed so unfair that between the two of them Michael would be the one to loose his child. Unlike Brian who had to be coaxed into being a part of his son's life, Michael leaped into fatherhood with both feet. From the first visit to the obstetrician with Mel, to Jenny Rebecca's first heartbeat, all the way to the sympathy pains in the delivery room, Michael was there savoring every moment. After Jenny Rebecca was born things seemed to come even more naturally for him. Mikey became an instant wiz at sterilizing bottles, and mixing baby formula. Bath time was never a problem, and no dirty diaper came too smelly. Michael was always quick with a silly face to make his daughter smile, or a gentle belly rub to sooth her colicky tummy. Dear God, with all of the abandoned, unloved, and abused children in the world, what kind of sadistic being would take away a baby that was so adored? Brian began to weep.

Sensing that the coast was clear, Gus slowly rose up, and peeked out over the back of the sofa. His hazel eyes scanned the room until he spotted his father sitting on the side of the bed near the telephone. Something was wrong. His pop never cried, except for that one time when Justin was mad at him. Gus climbed off of the sofa, and quietly padded over to the bottom of the bedroom steps. "Pop." He gently called to his dad.

Brian quickly straightened out his posture, and wiped his eyes with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "What is it Gus?"

"Are you ok?" Gus asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Brian tried to sound normal.

"Then why are you crying?" Gus pressed the issue.

"I'm just a little sad, that's all." Brian wiped his eyes again.

Gus walked up the two steps to the bedroom, and took a seat on the bed next to Brian. "Is mom mad at you? It's ok, she's mad at me too." The child attempted to sooth his father.

"Your mommies aren't mad at us, they just want us to be with them right now." Brian said.

"Awww Pop, do we have to? I don't want to go home, I want to stay here with you." Gus whined.

"Sometimes women need to have men like us around, especially when they're sad." Brian said.

"Why?" Gus couldn't understand.

"Because we're stronger than they are, and they need our shoulders to cry on." Brian explained.

"So who's shoulder do we cry on when we're sad?" Gus asked.

"We have to cry on each other's shoulder." Brian said. "Sometimes a man needs another man to lean on."

"Do you want to cry on my shoulder Pop?" Gus extended the offer.

"If you don't mind, maybe just a little." Brian graciously accepted.

Gus stood up, and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, and hugged him close. He then waited patiently while Brian once again released a flood gate of sorrow he had been holding inside. Brian cried for Michael and Melanie who had lost their only child, and for Lindsey who had lost her little girl. He cried for Debbie who always dreamed of one day having a grandchild to spoil, and for Gus who was born into a world where hate mongers would crash a baby's funeral just because her parents were gay. Finally Brian cried for himself for feeling so completely helpless at a time like this. "Thank you son." He released Gus from his embrace.

"Do you feel better now?" Gus asked.

"Yes, much better." Brian sniffed.

"Pop, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Brian wiped his eyes again.

"Michael is gay, you're gay, mommy Mel is gay, and so is my mom. Is that why Jenny Rebecca is dead? Am I going to die too?" Gus wanted to know.

"No Gus, you're not going to die.." Brian said.

"That's not what those people said." Gus insisted. "They said that God hated Jenny Rebecca because mommy Mel, and Michael are fags. That's why they took her to the hospital to die? Does God hate me too?"

Brian positioned his son at arms length, and looked into his eyes. "Gus, those people outside of the funeral home are crazy, evil people who don't like fags. No one tried to hurt Jenny Rebecca. She just died, because sometimes babies do that. They just die for no reason. That's why Michael took her to the hospital. He wanted to see if they could help Jenny Rebecca live, but they couldn't. You're not a baby anymore Gus, you're a big boy. You're going to live for a very, very long time. You're not going to die until you're all grown up, and your hair has turned white."

"Is that what happened to Tony?" Gus asked.

"Tony?"

"Tony's hair is white. The television said that he got sick, and had to go to the hospital. Did they make him better, or is Tony dead too?" Gus needed to know.

"Tony isn't dead Gus, he's very much alive." Brian assured his son.

"Sure Pop." Gus said.

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Unbeknownst to Tony, Mary had quietly slipped into his study. Tony's housekeeper stood silently by the door, and listened to the one-sided argument her boss was wading over the telephone. From what was being said, Mary was pretty sure that Dr. Sharma was on the other end of the line.

"I know what you said, and I have been patient. You said that my appetite would return, and it hasn't. I'm wasting away to nothing here! I'm still not sleeping at night, and this sternum pain isn't getting any better either. Any sudden move, and it feels as if my whole chest is caving in. No, I don't want any sedatives! The Vicodin you gave me makes me goofy enough already. I can't even remember anything anymore…." Tony turned around in his executive chair, and spotted Mary.

"The car is turning into the driveway." she said.

"I'll have to call you back Dr. Sharma." Tony abruptly ended his conversation, and hung up the phone. "And how long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"Long enough to know you've been bullshitting everyone, pretending that you're ok." Mary said.

"Since when do you listen in on my calls?" Tony barked.

"Since when did you start lying to me?" Mary barked right back.

"I didn't want to worry you. You know how you are. Besides, Dr. Sharma insists that the loss of appetite, and insomnia is common for someone who has had bypass surgery." Tony said to reassure himself, as much as he tried to reassure his worried housekeeper.

"What about the memory loss? Sometimes short term memory loss can be an early warning sign of a stroke. Maybe the blood thinners aren't working, and you've gotten a clot somewhere in your brain." Mary began to weep. "And what about the sternum pain? I read that could be a sign of infection that could kill you….!"

Tony positioned both hands firmly on the armrests of his chair, and slowly rose to his feet. He then shuffled over to his feisty housekeeper, and gently wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not going anywhere mom." he assured her. "You know me. You know how impatient I am. I'm just tired of laying around the house that's all. I'm ready to start living my life again."

Mary wiped her eyes on the lapels of Tony's jacket. "I'm ready for you to start living your life again too. You're such a pain in the ass when you're home." she sniffed.

"Awwww, I know you're not blowing your nose on my $500 silk jacket." Tony whined.

"If you paid $500 for a bathrobe, then I know you really do have a clot in your brain." Mary eased away from Tony's embrace.

"This is not a bathrobe, it's a lounging jacket." Tony said smugly.

"It's a fancy jacket with no buttons, that tie at the waist. It's a bathrobe." Mary concluded. "Now make yourself presentable. I'm going to go let our guest in. This ought to be interesting."

"Now what are you fussing about?" Tony frowned.

"Tony you don't know anything about children. The youngest child to ever come to this house has been Justin." Mary pointed out. "Do you have any idea how much energy a 5yr old has?"

"Mary you worry entirely too much. How much trouble can one little boy be? You feed him, and let him play video games. Besides, it's only going to be for one week, so Gus won't have to be involved in Shivah." Tony said.

"In what?" Mary frowned.

"Shivah. It's a traditional seven day period of mourning the dead that's observed in Jewish families. Brian doesn't want Gus involved, and I don't blame him." Tony said.

"What does Gus's mother have to say about this?" Mary asked.

"This doesn't have anything to do with her. This is between Brian, and his son." Tony said.

"This is a bad idea Tony. I'm telling you there's going to be trouble." Mary predicted.

Tony dismissed her warning, and adjusted the collar on his jacket. "How do I look?" he asked.

"You look fine." Mary went to answer the doorbell.

Tony walked back to his desk, and steadied himself in front of his chair. Brian said that Gus was worried about him, and thought that he had died in the hospital. After loosing his baby sister, and then the fiasco at the funeral, the last thing Tony wanted was to traumatize the boy even more. Tony brushed his hand through his hair, and checked the ties on his robe one last time.

"Hey Tony!" Gus's voice rang out from the other end of the long hall.

"I'm down here Tiger!" Tony called back to him.

Gus dashed ahead of Mary, Justin, and Brian, toward the sound of Tony's voice. Tony could hear the echoed footsteps of screeching gym shoes gaining momentum on the polished wooden floors. Closer, and closer they came until the youngster reached the study door. "TONY!" Gus beamed.

"Hey Tiger!" Tony reached out his arms.

"GUS WAIT!" Brian made it to the door, but it was too late. The excited tyke took a flying leap that landed him squarely in Tony's chest.

"Umph!" The impact of Gus's tackle pushed Tony back down into his chair.

Realizing what he had just done, Gus stood back, and watched as Tony braced one arm across his chest, and doubled over in pain. "I'm sorry Tony. Tony, are you ok?" Gus attempted to pull him back up.

When Tony didn't answer, the frightened child turned to run back to his father. Gus was about to bolt when Tony reached up, and grabbed the youngster's arm. "Where're you going Tiger?" Tony panted.

Brian took hold of Tony's arm, and eased him back to an semi-upright sitting position. "Are you alright?" he uttered.

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine, just give me a minute." Tony lied, as he struggled to catch his breath. Surely something must have busted loose inside his chest that time. The pain was excruciating. If ever there was a time when he wished a grown man could cry, this was one of them.

"I'm sorry Tony. I didn't mean to hurt you." Gus worried.

"I know, I know you didn't Tiger." Tony winced.

Gus moved in closer, and placed his arms around Tony's neck. "You can cry on my shoulder if you want to Tony. Sometimes a man needs another man to lean on." The youngster extended the offer.

Tony looked up at Brian, then over at Brian's son. "If you don't mind Tiger, maybe just a little." The older man graciously accepted.

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NEXT WEEK : 24 Hours

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