Testing, Testing ... 1,2,3

Chapter 7

“Hi, Pop.”

“Hey, Sonny Boy, what’s up?” Brian asked into his cell phone.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m doing really well at my Driver’s Ed. Course. The instructor is really pleased.”

“That’s good news,” Brian said with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot better since you’ve been teaching me. And I took your advice.”

“What advice?” Brian asked.

“To apologize to Mr. Rashki and the other guys in the car.”

“That wasn’t advice,” Brian said. “That was an order.”

“Okay, whatever it was, I did it. They seem a lot more … comfortable with me driving now.”

“Then I’m pleased it all worked out.”

“I was wondering if I could come to the cottage this weekend, and maybe we could actually go out on a real road for some driving,” Gus said hopefully.

“A real road?” Brian laughed.

“Yeah, something not the lane at your place or the parking lot of the shopping mall here.”

“Think you’re ready for the big time, do ya?” Brian asked with a chuckle.

“Jeez, Pop, if I don’t get onto a road soon, I’ll never learn to drive.”

“Okay, it’s probably better if you drive on our country roads than in the big city, at least to start with.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Gus said with a big grin.

“I’ll pick you up on Saturday morning and then you can help the kids with riding on Sunday.”

“Deal, but not too early,” Gus requested.

“Ten o’clock,” Brian barked.

“Okay, Pop, see you then.”

Brian cut the connection with a big smile. It was good to know that he was helping his son, and that his parenting skills seemed to be working.

“What are you smiling at?” Justin asked as he walked into the sun porch.

“I was just talking to Gus.”

“And what made you smile?”

“You being home for once, and Gus doing well in his Driver’s Ed.”

“That’s good to hear,” Justin smiled. “And I’m glad to be home as often as I can.”

“Where’s Bree?”

“Bobby’s picking them up from school.”

“I thought you were.”

“Bobby volunteered when they were leaving this morning,” Justin said with a frown. “You don’t think he feels I’ll forget the kids again, do you?”

“I’m sure that’s not it. You only forgot that one time.”

“I know, but it is … unforgivable.”

“Nothing’s unforgivable.”

“This coming from the man who says, ‘No apologies, no regrets’,” Justin reminded Brian.

“I’ve learned to temper that statement. There are moments for apologies and regrets … and forgiveness,” Brian said seriously.

“I’m glad you feel that way. I can’t tell you how bad I felt that day. I was so … humiliated. I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten our own daughter.”

“When the creative process takes you away, it’s understandable,” Brian reminded his husband.

“I just don’t want it to ever happen again.”

“I don’t think you can make that assumption. We can’t know what’s going to happen in the future.”

Justin frowned, but then leaned down to kiss Brian’s cheek where he sat in the chaise in the sun porch.

Then they heard the front door slam. Bree came racing into the sun porch. “Daddy! Dada! You’re both home,” she squealed obviously overjoyed to see both her fathers together.

“We’re here, Squirt,” Brian said hugging his daughter as soon as she’d finished hugging Justin.

“Hi, Uncle Bri, Uncle Justin,” Patrick said a little more sedately than his boisterous cousin.

“Afternoon, Patrick, my lad,” Brian said in his most pompous voice.

Patrick giggled.

“You sound silly, Dada,” Bree told him.

“Good to see you home,” Bobby said to Justin, a grin on his face.

“Jeez, I wasn’t gone that much, was I?” Justin asked.

“Yes,” four voices told him.

Justin shook his head.

“Daddy, are you cooking tonight?”

“I already started,” Justin said.

“Good, I like your food.”

“Hey,” Bobby said, “I thought you liked my food.”

“I do, Unca Bobby, but I like my Daddy’s too,” Bree said.

“I guess that’s all right then,” Bobby said as he and Patrick headed over to their side of the cottages.

“Can we go outside and play with Beau?” Bree asked her fathers.

“I have a phone call to make, and then I’ll join you,” Brian said.

“Come have a snack and change your clothes first,” Justin told his daughter.

“’Kay, Daddy,” Bree responded, obviously happy to have her father home when she got there.

When Bree and Justin went into the kitchen, Brian picked up his cell phone. He looked at the pad of paper that was lying beside him on the chaise. He had been trying to find the right person to contact and he thought he had finally found him. He dialed the number he’d written on the paper and then the extension.

“Connolly,” a male voice responded to Brian’s call.

“Mr. Connolly, this is Brian Kinney.”

“What?” Connolly asked, suddenly sitting up straight in his desk chair at the Times. “I mean, what can I do for you, Mr. Kinney?” the man asked, regaining as much of his professional demeanor as he could muster. This was an unexpected call, to say the least.

“I have a proposition for you,” Brian said choosing his words carefully. He wanted to peak the interest of the Times art reporter, but he also wanted to establish that he was the one in control of this process.

“A proposition? May I ask what this is in reference to?”

“Maybe you’ve seen the snide little references in the Dispatch referring to my marriage with Justin Taylor being in trouble.”

“I don’t read the Dispatch,” Connolly replied with a sneer. “It’s not the most respected paper in Pittsburgh.”

“You got that right,” Brian agreed.

“But I have heard the rumors. Are they true?” Connolly smelled a scoop.

“Absolutely not, and that’s why I’m calling.”

“Oh?’

“How would you like to come to our home this weekend for an exclusive interview with Justin and me … and our family?”

“You mean it?” Connolly asked holding his breath. Surely this wasn’t some kind of wind up.

“I mean it. I want these rumors stopped. If you want to be the one to help us do that, you’ll agree to this interview.”

“And it will be only me?”

“That’s right. We want this done by a respected newspaper and a respected reporter,” Brian replied using Connolly’s own word to describe the Times and the reporter he was talking to. He might be laying it on a little thick, but he knew what he wanted.

“Mr. Kinney, I would be honored to conduct the interview, but…”

“But?” Brian asked.

“Sometimes these interviews come with restrictions. Is there anything you don’t want me to report? I may not agree to that,” Connolly said carefully.

“You may report on what you see and hear. The only thing I ask is that you be fair and truthful. Justin and I have nothing to hide. I’m sick of innuendo.”

“I don’t deal in innuendo,” Connolly stated firmly.

“I know, or I wouldn’t be calling you.”

“Then, when would you like me there?”

“Saturday afternoon for lunch?”

“That sounds excellent. I’ll be there.”

“I’ll give you the directions. It’s not the easiest place to find,” Brian explained.

When he had finished directing the Times reporter to the cottage, he hung up the phone. After his play time with Bree and Beau, he would have to tell the family what he had done. He hoped they wouldn’t be too horrified by this invasion of their privacy.

 

*****
 

After Patrick and Bree had gone to bed, Brian made his proposal.

“I want to discuss something with you all and I want your honest opinion. I’ve done something and it occurred to me that you all may not approve,” Brian said. They were sitting in John and Bobby’s end of the cottage. The October evening had grown cool so John had a small fire burning in their hearth.

“Whatever it is, Bri, we’ll keep an open mind,” John said as spokesman for the family. Brian took a deep breath as he prepared to explain his scheme.

“You’ve all seen those gossipy little bits in that rag masquerading as a newspaper, haven’t you?” Three heads nodded. “They’re really beginning to get on my nerves. All the other articles have been written about the show and Justin’s other projects. This Finkie person seems to take delight in taking a more personal approach.”

“Brian, did my call to the editor do any good?” Bobby asked.

“It did for a few days then these pictures popped up.” Brian pointed to the pictures of them getting into separate cars then driving away.

“Bri, I remember that afternoon. We had both cars in Pittsburgh and we needed them here. How does anyone think both of them would get back home?”

“I know, Sunshine, but this idiot is making mountains out of molehills.”

“I’m growing to hate that expression,” John grumbled as he picked up the paper. There were several pictures of Justin in a huddle with Tre` and Troi`. “You were in a public place when this was taken.”

“The guys have been working so hard on the Rage cartoon, I like buying them lunch or dinner. They deserve it.” Justin frowned.

“I agree. The Bopsey twins have been nothing but gentlemen from what I can see. Buying them an occasional meal does not an orgy make,” Brian quipped.

“So what have you done?” Bobby asked.

“I have to admit I can’t take any credit for the idea. Emmett made the suggestion,” Brian said without hesitation. The boys smiled. “He suggested we fight fire with fire.”

“You lost me,” John said.

“We give an interview. Here, in our natural habitat.”

“You want to invite that Finkelstein person here?!” Justin said in horror.

“No, his competition from the Times, one Richard Connolly,” Brian said as he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. “He was that critic we saw on the last night. The hot one in the suit.”

“You would notice he was hot,” Bobby snarked.

“Hey, Big Red, I even noticed you were hot.”

“Were?” Bobby asked with a smirk.

“Still are, Big Red. The point is, Justin and I show this man what we’re really all about. I want to set the record straight. But I jumped in without consulting you guys. If you don’t like the idea and want to get scarce on Saturday, I’ll understand.” Justin got up to wrap his arms around Brian’s waist in support.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Justin whispered. “The days are still warm. We can have a cookout, and show Connolly the gardens before it’s too cold. The Fall plants look beautiful.”

John and Bobby exchanged looks.

“Brian, we’re in. This Finkelstein guy is annoying as well as slanderous. Any way we can help, we will,” John said. Bobby agreed.

“Thank you,” Brian murmured trying not to choke up. “I have him coming here for lunch. Is that good?” Three heads nodded. “Then let’s plan our strategy.”

Just before they all went to bed, Brian called Gus.

“Sonny Boy, slight change of plans. Ask your moms if we can get you Friday night. And if JR wants to come, it’s cool.”

“Okay, Pop. What’s up?”

“I’ll explain Friday night. See you then, Sonny Boy.”

“See ya, Pop!”

 

*****
 

After firming up their plans for the weekend, the boys went to bed early.

“Brian,” Justin purred as he kissed his spouse, nibbling on Brian’s lips, sucking on his tongue. “I love you, you know,” he whispered against Brian’s mouth.

“I know,” Brian whispered back. The lovers made slow gentle love for the next several hours.

 

*****
 

“Kinney,” Brian barked into his phone.

“Mr. Kinney, it’s Richard Connolly.”

“Yes, Mr. Connolly, what can I do for you? You haven’t had a change of heart, have you?”

“No, I wanted to ask if I have your permission to bring my photographer. Morgan and I have been a team for years.”

“It’s fine, we welcome it. And come hungry.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, come hungry. It’s quite a trip from Pittsburgh and the long range forecast predicts a nice warm afternoon. We’re going to have the last barbecue of the season.”

“All right. Should we bring anything?”

“Just yourselves, plenty of paper and film.”

“Would a digital video recorder and back-up memory cards do?” Connolly said with a chuckle.

“That’ll be fine. Just don’t get lost, I hate cold steak,” Brian said as he cut the connection.

“Yes, sir,” Connolly murmured to the dial tone.

 

*****
 

“Hey, Gus,” JR said as she came out the back door of the house.

“Hey,” Gus replied without really paying much attention. He had been sitting on the back steps of the house in the October late afternoon sun. It was warmer than usual and he liked the feel of the warm sun on his face. He was feeling … strange. He didn’t really want to talk to anybody.

“You okay?” JR asked.

“Hm.”

“That doesn’t tell me much,” JR informed him.

“I … I’m just feeling kind of down,” Gus admitted.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Gus assured her. “I was just thinking about…”

“Cole,” JR supplied.

“Yeah. How’d ya know?”

“I’ve seen you sitting out here before. Remember?” JR said sitting down beside her brother on the steps. “Right after he got arrested.”

Gus grimaced. He hated thinking about what his supposed boyfriend had tried to do to his family. “I remember,” Gus said sadly.

“He’s not worth your time,” JR said with all the wisdom of her early teen years.

“Hm,” Gus repeated.

“Really, Gus, don’t let it get you down.”

“I’m trying not to, but sometimes I remember…” Gus’ voice trailed away.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

“I thought I did.”

“What’s the difference? You did love him.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Gus admitted.

“You’ll find someone else,” JR promised as she put her arm around Gus’ back and gave him a hug.

“Thanks, it feels better with you here,” Gus said trying to lighten up.

“I’m glad.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I was talking to Pop and he would like you to come to the cottage this weekend. I’m leaving Friday evening. Wanna come?”

“He … he asked for me to come?” JR asked in disbelief. Nobody usually remembered her.

Gus chuckled. “He likes you, you know. He said that if you wanted to come it would be cool. From my Pop that’s a gold plated invitation,” Gus told her.

“Then I guess I better go,” JR said with a happy smile on her face.

“Good.”

“Let’s go sneak some of that Rocky Road ice cream that’s in the freezer,” JR suggested.

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Gus laughed as they got up to raid the fridge.

 

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