Still the One

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

 

Brian strode into Dr. Wilder’s outer office with fury on his face.  The office assistant said nothing as he pointed toward the inner office.  Not that Brian had any intention of slowing down to confirm that the good doctor was free.  A brief phone call thirty minutes prior took care of that.  Brian flung open the door.

 

“Now there’s a man with murder on his mind,” Wilder stated.  He gestured to a chair.  Brian shook his head.  He was too angry to sit so he paced in front of Alex’s desk.  “Are you ready to tell me why you want to kill somebody?  And please assure me that the object of all this fury is not me.”

 

That got Brian to stop and raise an eyebrow.  Alex put up his hands in surrender.

 

“Seriously, what’s got your jock strap in a twist?”  Brian gave Alex an abbreviated version of the situation with Max Jacobs.  “This doesn’t sound like something I can help you with other than pointing out that planning a crime is not quite the same as committing a crime,” Alex said with a calm face.

 

Brian stared at Wilder for a moment then burst out laughing.

 

“And he’s back, ladies and gentlemen,” Alex quipped and again pointed to a chair.  This time Brian sat.  “I mean it, I’m charging you big time for something you should be talking over with Kinnetik people or with Justin.  You don’t need a shrink for this.”

 

“I know but I really wanted an honest opinion from someone totally neutral.  And you’re the most neutral person I can think of.”  Brian smirked.

 

“There’s an insult hidden in there somewhere, I think,” Alex smirked back.  “So aside from taking out a contract on this Max person...”  Brian perked up at that remark.  “Forget I said that.  You’ve handled lots of sticky business situations, what makes this one different?”

 

Brian had to think about that for a minute.  It was true.  Throughout his career whether it was with Ryder or Vangard, Brian always found a way to get what he wanted or work through a mess.  What was making this thing with Max Jacobs different from all the others?

 

“The way he assumes that I can be bought.  And now he’s involved my son,” Brian growled.

 

“Let’s break this down.  Stating the obvious, you are a very rich man.  An extraordinarily successful businessman, and even though Pittsburgh is not your primary residence, you and your family have never hesitated to give back to the city.  The people who know you may be a little envious but they also appreciate your generosity.  Your family and those in your inner circle are certainly well aware of your nature and would never assume you could be bought for something as trivial as money.  Besides, many of us have long memories.  We remember the "Committee for Concerned Citizens" and how you spent every penny you had to prevent Stockwell and his goons from taking over this city.  We’ll never forget that, Brian - never.”

 

“I’ve never admitted to that,” Brian said as he stood and turned away.  Alex let that one go.  It was a well known Pittsburgh urban legend based on a few facts that were leaked to the community that Brian Kinney lost almost everything to fund the “committee.”  The community never forgot.

 

“I’m assuming most of your fellow business associates and advertising competitors are aware that when Kinnetik’s vying for a contract you use legitimate tactics.  And while I’m not that well versed on the advertising business, I do know that you like to go after the unusual contracts or those that other advertising firms wouldn’t touch.  Am I right about that?”

 

Brian nodded as he slowly turned around.

 

“So I’m going to take a leap here and say that whatever is motivating Max Jacobs is based on jealousy and greed.  He doesn’t know you or the rules you live by.  He throws his money around because he assumes that’s what’s expected of him and it strokes his ego.”

 

“We all have an ego.”

 

“Of course we do and most of us go through some stage of showing off to boost that ego.  I did when I was first training to be a psychiatrist.  I swore I could cure everyone that came to me with their problems.  Believe me, it was very large blow to my ego when I realized that that belief was bullshit.  What about you, stud?  I’m sure that rep was your boost.”

 

“Yes, but that reputation was well deserved,” Brian stated smugly as he sat.

 

“Ha, ha.  You did eventually outgrow the need to continually prove that reputation, didn't you?”  Brian nodded.  “And I won’t belittle you by saying that you grew out of it.  It’s not as simple as that.  It’s all about choices.  It’s about weighing those choices and taking into consideration how the choices we make may affect the important people in our lives.  From what little you’ve told me about Max Jacobs, he probably has very few important people in his life that would be adversely affected by his choices.  You on the other hand, have a large heart.  You make your choices carefully and that’s why Max Jacobs angers you so much.

 

“Don’t envy him, Brian, don’t think that if you were more like him it would make it easier to destroy him.  He’s not worth it.  Allow your people to help you with this.  Give Gus all the tools he’ll need to deal with Max.  I understand you feel helpless, that you’re here and Gus is thousands of miles away, but he is by no means alone.  His boyfriend is with him and your overseas Kinnetik people are with him.  No grandiose plots, Brian," Alex warned.  "Keep it simple.  You’ve built your business by doing the best for your clients.  You have integrity; don’t do anything to disparage that reputation.  Be subtle; I know you can be subtle.”

 

Brian considered Alex’s words carefully.  Kinnetik was financially solid and did business honorably, using healthy competition and by giving its people the latitude they needed to express themselves.  Brian wasn’t prepared to risk all of that by going after some asshole who believed money was the be all, end all goal in life.

 

Brian sighed, expelling a lungful of air and with it, the hate.  He was still angry but it was the type of anger that would fuel his creativity.

 

“Better?” Alex asked.  Brian nodded.  “Good.  How goes the wedding preparations, or is this topic still taboo?”

 

“Actually, it’s going well.  We’re keeping it simple,” Brian said as he gave Alex a smile.  Alex rolled his eyes.  “Justin wants a private ceremony with just us.”

 

“Us, as in the people who live on your lane?  By the way, I expect an invitation to the lane at some point.”

 

“You’re welcome to the lane anytime.  We have plenty of room.  And by way of simple, we’ve agreed to just the minister, my kids, John, Bobby and Patrick.  That’s it.  No fancy attire, no fancy party.  Only a few key people know about it.  So don’t blab.”

 

“I never blab.  What about a honeymoon?”

 

“We did the big honeymoon, including a donkey ride up a mountain.  And the last time we took what I guess you could call a second honeymoon, it almost killed us.  We both got into a series of accidents that took a hell of a long time for us to recover from.”

 

“So I guess no windsurfing or skydiving.”

 

“Not if my life depended on it,” Brian slowly enunciated with a grimace at the memory of what he and Justin had suffered through.  “Maybe New York, somewhere we can blend into the crowd.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Alex said with a tone that informed Brian his time was up.  Brian stood and extended his hand toward Alex.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what?  You’ll be getting my bill,” Alex said as he shook Brian’s hand.

 

“I know.  But as you said, this was a bit out of your purview, you didn’t have to see me at all.  I appreciate your time.”

 

“And I appreciate your trust.  I’ll keep our regular time open; call me with any changes,” Alex said with his usual professional manner.  Brian agreed.

 

As Brian left Wilder’s office he couldn’t help wonder if the lane could support another cottage.

 

*****    

 

“Right’o, I’ll keep an eye on the lads while we work up a strategy.  I promise, no cloak and dagger, no Holmes and Watson, no Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot.  What do you mean who are Miss Marple and Poirot?  Only the two greatest detectives ever written by Dame Agatha Christie, you ignorant sot!  This is me hanging up on you, Mr. Kinney,” Shane said indignantly.  As he hung up the phone Shane could have sworn he heard Brian laughing.

 

“And he claims to be an educated man,” Shane grumbled to himself.  He kept on grumbling as he went to the break room to get himself a nice cup of tea.

 

“Did Mr. McKenna just hang up on Mr. Kinney?” a newly employed young artist, named Quinton, asked Gus.  The young man was horrified. Gus admired Quinton’s work so he asked to work with him on a couple of small campaigns.

 

“Don’t worry about it, my dad was just yanking Shane’s chain,” Gus said casually as they settled down to work.  Quinton had his doubts.

 

*****

 

“Honey, I’m home!”  Brian called out as he walked through the cottage door.  He was carrying some packages including a nice bottle of wine he planned on sharing with his partner.

 

“Dada!” Bree shouted as she rushed to leap into Brian’s arms.  Fortunately he had sufficient warning to put down his packages.

 

“Hey, Squirt!” Brian said as he received her hugs and kisses with glee.  Brian returned her hugs and kisses with plenty of his own.  “What’s up, Squirt?” 

 

Large violet blue eyes examined his face closely.  “Dada, are you all right?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Daddy said the reason why you’re staying away a lot is because you’re not happy and you need someone to talk to.” 

 

Brian was a little stunned by Bree’s words.  He thought he was hiding it well.  Then again he could never really hide anything from Justin.  Why should Bree be any different?  She was, after all, her father’s daughter.  Brian carried Bree over to the sofa so he could sit with her as he explained as best he could.

 

“I’ve been feeling sad.”

 

“About Gamma Joan?”

 

“Yes.  I’ve been sad before, but this felt different.  I needed help to figure it out,” Brian explained as simply as he could.

 

“And is the doctor helping you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good,” Bree said as she wrapped her arms around Brian’s neck to hug him tight.  Brian held on as he looked over her shoulder toward Justin who had quietly come into the room.  He gave Brian an apologetic look for revealing to their daughter some of Brian’s secrets.  Brian gave Justin a small smile.

 

“It’s okay, Sunshine,” Brian said as he extended his hand.  Justin joined them on the sofa, hugging both of them close.

 

*****

 

"Carl, do you want to go into Bridgeton with me?" Debbie asked her husband as they were sitting at the table enjoying a cup of coffee.

 

"What do you need?"

 

"Nothing in particular.  I just wanted to get out," Debbie explained.

 

"I get the feeling being stuck out here with me isn't always to your liking," Carl replied with a frown.

 

"I like being busy, and there just isn't much to do around here.  There's only so many times a day I want to dust and do dishes," Debbie replied ruefully.

 

"Maybe it's time we went to that community center in Bridgeton that Justin told you about and checked out what they have to offer," Carl conceded.

 

"When I told you about Justin's suggestion, you poo-pooed it," Debbie stated.  "What's changed your mind?"

 

"I want you to be happy, babe," Carl said with a small smile.  "If this community center can make that happen, then let's go for it."

 

"Oh Carl," Debbie said with a big smile on her face.  She had missed hearing her husband say considerate things like that.  "Can we go right now?"

 

"You bet!  Grab your coat."

 

A little while later Carl and Debbie walked into the community center in Bridgeton.  Debbie looked around the lobby.  It was clean and bright.  She liked that. 

 

A middle aged woman stood behind a counter along one wall.  "Can I help you?" she asked with a cheerful smile.

 

"Hi," Debbie said moving over to the counter.  "We're the Horvaths, Debbie and Carl," she explained.  "I've heard you have some activities here that might interest us.  We moved to the area a few months ago."  Debbie decided that she had rambled enough and closed her mouth before she told the woman their whole life history.

 

"We're always happy to welcome new members," the woman said in a friendly voice.

 

"Members?"

 

"Yes, you pay a small fee to join the center and then you have access to all the facilities."

 

"Oh, I didn't realize that there was a fee," Debbie said.  "How much is it?"

 

"Just twenty-five dollars per person."

 

"Well, I think we can swing that," Debbie said with a chuckle.  "What sort of activities do you offer?"

 

"Yeah, we aren't signing up for anything until we know what we're getting for our money," Carl informed the woman.

 

"You'll have to forgive my husband," Debbie said giving Carl the look that told him to be quiet or there would be hell to pay.  "He was a cop and that makes him kind of cynical."

 

The lady laughed.  "My husband was a cop too," she said.  "I know just what you mean."

 

"Your husband was a policeman?" Carl asked skeptically.

 

"Yes, in fact he's in the billiard room right now.  Maybe you'd like to meet him?"

 

"Sure," Carl said wondering what kind of a small town hick he was about to meet.

 

They walked through the lobby and down a hallway with rooms that had tables, one holding a group of people that seemed to be knitting.  Debbie shuddered.  If that was all this place had to offer, she would save herself twenty-five bucks.

 

In the next room there were a couple of pool tables.  One man was apparently practising, shooting balls into the pockets.

 

"This is my husband, Frank," the woman said.  "Oh, and my name is June, June Thompson.  I forgot to introduce myself before."

 

"Nice to meet you, June," Debbie said.

 

"Frank, these people moved here recently and are thinking about joining the center.  This is Carl and Debbie Horvath.  Carl was a policeman, like you."

 

"Nice to meet you," Frank responded stepping forward and extending his hand to Carl.  "Would you like to play a game?"

 

"Sure, I used to be pretty good, but I haven't played in quite a while."

 

"Excuses, excuses," Frank laughed.  "You'll probably beat the pants off me."

 

Carl smiled.  "There's only one way to find out," he said taking his jacket off.

 

"Let's go," June whispered to Debbie.  "I'll show you the rest of the center."

 

Debbie followed June back into the hall.  She glanced back to see Carl chalking his cue while he and Frank seemed to be sharing a joke.  That was good.

 

As they walked through the building June told Debbie about some of the groups who made use of the community center.  The mah-jongg group, the canasta group and the book club were all possibilities in Debbie's eyes.

 

When they arrived back at the front counter June asked Debbie what she thought about joining the community center.  Debbie told her she wanted to talk to Carl before she gave an answer.

 

"You should discuss this with your husband.  I hope he's enjoying playing pool with Frank.  Frank had a friend that he used to play with all the time, but he died a few months ago of cancer, and it hit Frank hard.  He hasn't found anybody to play with since.  I'm not sure he's even trying to find someone.  Mike's death hit him hard."

 

"It's never easy dealing with cancer," Debbie said thoughtfully, thinking about Brian's bout with the dread disease.  Thankfully the outcome had been much different from Frank's friend.  "Do you have a PFLAG group in Bridgeton?" she asked after a moment.

 

"PFLAG?" June asked.

 

"Yes, parents and friends of lesbians and gays."

 

"Oh, you mean a gender equality group.  There is one in Bridgeton, but it's not affiliated with the community center," June explained.

 

"Well it should be," Debbie declared.

 

"I beg your pardon," June replied.  "The group used to be much more active, but over time it has become smaller and smaller.  I'm not sure they meet anymore."

 

"They should be meeting," Debbie stated emphatically.

 

"But why?" June asked.  "Any gays and lesbians in the area are part of the community.  They don't need a separate group.  I'm sure many of them belong to this community center."

 

"Really?" Debbie asked skeptically.

 

"Since Mr. Kinney and Mr. Taylor moved into the area things have changed a lot.  They do so much for the community.  Perhaps you've heard of them?"

 

"Perhaps," Debbie said thoughtfully, not letting on just how familiar she actually was with Mr. Kinney and Mr. Taylor.

 

"Hey, Deb," Carl said as he came into the lobby.

 

"Did you have a good game?"  Debbie smiled at Frank who followed Carl to the counter.

 

"Yeah, we're pretty evenly matched.  We've scheduled another game for tomorrow."

 

"You could come to the mah-jongg group which meets tomorrow afternoon, if you wanted to come in with your husband," June suggested.  "I'm going to take it up.  They said they'd be happy to teach me, and they'd teach you too."

 

"Maybe," Debbie replied, still uncertain what she wanted to do.

 

"I think we should join," Carl said pulling out his wallet.  "Sign us up for the year."

 

"But..." Debbie started to say, but Carl was already giving June his credit card.

 

When the transaction was completed Debbie and Carl left the community center.  Debbie was not at all pleased that Carl had decided they both should join without consulting her about it.  She had been waiting to talk to him before she did any such thing.

 

"I want a cup of tea," Debbie declared.

 

"Tea?  I could use a beer."

 

"Tea," Debbie reiterated, "at Cornercopia."

 

Carl sighed heavily but followed his wife down the street to the store.  Jacques fawned over Debbie when they arrived and that seemed to restore a happier frame of mind in Debbie.  However, it did nothing for Carl's mood.

 

When Debbie had her tea and Carl had coffee and a sticky bun, Debbie decided it was time to tell her husband what she thought.  "You should have consulted me before you signed us up at that community center."

 

"Why?" Carl asked bewildered.  "It was you that wanted to go there in the first place."

 

"I wanted to go there to check it out, not to sign up before we know anything about the place."

 

"I saw enough," Carl said taking a big bite of his sticky bun.

 

"All you saw was the pool room," Debbie scoffed.

 

"That was enough for me," Carl replied happily.

 

"What about me?"

 

"What about you?" Carl asked.

 

"The least you could have done was ask me if I wanted to join."

 

"Well, are you sorry we belong to the community center now?"

 

"That remains to be seen."

 

"Then get back to me when you've made a decision," Carl said cavalierly.

 

Debbie gritted her teeth so she didn't tell Carl exactly what decision she was making about him at the moment.  She unclenched her jaw long enough to have a sip of her tea.  They sat in silence while Carl finished his sticky bun.

 

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