Date: Sat, 25 Feb 2012 11:37:02 +1100
From: Marcus McNally <marcusis32@live.com.au>
Subject: Love On The Rocks - 33

This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this
nature offends you then you should not read this story.  If you are under
18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no
duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web
sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.

*************

I made my way from the kitchen to answer the doorbell, but Ty walked past
me from the music room without saying a word, and opened the front door.
He immediately stood back as Daniel walked in and hugged him.  Mandy
followed carrying a plate of lamingtons she'd made.  Ty was all smiles and
laughter, genuinely glad to see them both.

"You look great, Dan!" he enthused.  "The best I've seen you so far!"

He was right.  When I finally got a good look at him, he seemed more
energetic than I'd seen him before and for a change, he had some colour in
his cheeks.  He was minus his beanie, and his hair was starting to grow
back randomly.

As Ty embraced Mandy, Daniel gave me a hug.  "Ty's right," I grinned.
"You're looking really good Daniel!  And you're starting to get some fuzz
on your noggin!"

"Yeah, but it feels real different," Daniel smiled.  "Like it's softer, and
the colour's different."

When Mandy gave me a hug she explained, "The specialist told him his hair
would be different.  And Danny shouldn't worry about it, as long as it
starts growing back.  It's a good sign."

We walked them through to the lounge and they both stopped in their tracks
and took in the view.

"Man," said a wide-eyed Daniel, "this place rocks!"

"Your home is beautiful Tyson," said an equally stunned Mandy.

"Yeah, I like it," Ty replied.  "I like to see the water."

"It's like those mansions you see in fuckin' movies!" Daniel gushed.

"Danny, I already spoke to you about your language."

I chuckled.  "After tonight Mandy, this will be an all-guy environment!
Bad words will be used!"

Ty steered them both away from me and invited them to sit on the couch.  I
sighed, and pushed open the kitchen door.  "George," I called, "Come and
meet Daniel and Mandy."

George walked into the room with a platter of cheeses, quince paste,
grapes, dried fruits, dips and biscuits.  Ty made the introductions and I
could see immediately that it had registered with George how sick Daniel
had been.

He shook hands with both out visitors, explained where Daniel would be
sleeping, and mentioned to Mandy that after dinner he would sit down on the
balcony with her and go through Daniel's medication and dietary
requirements.  "Dinner won't be long," he said, as he returned to the
kitchen.

Ty continued talking but not including me, so I joined George in the
kitchen.  As George finished cooking his steaks and dressing his salad, I
called out for drinks orders; "Who's for a red wine?"

"That would be lovely," Mandy called back.  No response from Ty.

I poured Mandy a glass of wine, and knocked the top of a Crown Lager for
Ty.  I put them on the coffee table and asked Daniel what he would like to
drink.

"A beer, like Ty," he smirked.

"I don't think that's wise with your medication!" I chuckled.

"Yes, that!" said an astonished Mandy.  "Plus the fact he's 15 years of
age! Don't even think about it Danny!"

"There's heaps of fruit juices, mate," I grinned.  "Or soft drinks, mineral
waters, cordial ..."

"Coke?" he asked.

"Coming up!"

I returned with a Coke for Daniel and a wine for myself.  Ty had positioned
himself in the centre of the two seater couch leaving no room for me.  I
pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the coffee table.  A short while
later, George announced dinner, and we all moved to the balcony where he
served perfectly cooked fillet steaks with jacket potatoes.  In the centre
he'd placed a huge square white plate with a baby spinach and rocket salad
of cherry tomatoes, sliced pear, mango, avocado, pine nuts and goat's
cheese dressed with lemon juice, garlic and a drizzle of honey and soy.

"This looks mighty!" Daniel enthused. "I can't remember the last time we
had steak, eh Mum?"

I smiled to myself as I watched Daniel hoe into his meal, noting how much
like a Hill he was when it came to good, basic food.  Towards the end of
the meal, Ty brought up the arrangements he'd put in place for Mandy's
hotel getaway weekend.  Both Mandy and Daniel looked at him in disbelief.

"I can't believe you would do such a thing Tyson," Mandy stuttered.  "But I
really can't let you.  You've done so much for Daniel and me already and I
can't have you keep spending your money on us."

Ty went on to explain that as a frequent guest of the Intercontinental
Hotel he'd racked up "thousands" of reward points, and was using those for
the accommodation; because hundreds of them were about to expire, he wanted
to make sure they were used.

"I really should be around in case Daniel needs me," Mandy said.

"It's completely up to you, Mandy," Ty agreed.  "But rest assured Dan will
get very good care here. George has had a lot of experience looking after
people who need medication.  And you'll be just a phone call away."

Mandy fought back tears as she thanked him, once again, for his
extraordinary kindness.  Daniel put his hands over his Mother's hands and
said "Don't cry, Mum.  You deserve to have someone spoil you for a change,
after all you do for me."

That brought on the waterworks, and Mandy had to leave the table.  Daniel
turned to Ty.  "It's so cool what you do for me and my Mum.  She works
really hard and she has to look after me so much and that sucks, especially
when it's really bad.  She never has any time to herself, so this is like
... way sick for her."

"Is somebody sick?" George asked, as he started clearing plates.

Daniel giggled.  "I mean, like it's fantasmo!"

"Yes, of course," George agreed.  "Fantasmo.  Just like my dessert."

I helped George stack the dishwasher while Ty and our guests talked, and
together we served vanilla ice cream with melted Mars Bar sauce.  Daniel
wolfed it down, so happy to be enjoying what he no doubt perceived to be a
luxury meal.

"That was ace, Mr. Larson!" Daniel grinned.  "Sure beats hamburgers!"

"`Mr. Larson' is my late father, Daniel," George smiled.  "Please call me
George."

"Sure thing," Daniel smirked.  "Can I call you Georgy Porgy!"

"Do that and I'll mess with your medication!" George warned.

"Speaking of medication George," I said.  "It's probably time to go through
the list of Daniel's medication with Mandy."

Mandy picked up a large bag of medications and a list and started to talk
through the various tablets and dosages while George made notes.  I
listened in, just to be sure we both knew what was required, and when.

Once I was sure George had made sufficient notes, I joined Ty and Daniel in
the lounge.  They were deep in conversation about what their song could be
about and Ty explained that they would probably name the song after it was
written rather than try to write something based around a title.

Daniel made a real effort to include me in the conversation but as far as
Ty seemed to be concerned, I wasn't in the room.  I sat around feeling
uncomfortable for a while before going to the bathroom.

On my way back, George cornered me and explained quietly that Ty had asked
him to move my clothes and toiletries to one of the spare rooms.

I was taken aback. "He did?"

"I assume it's because Daniel is here," George replied, trying to reassure
me.  "Is everything ... alright, sir?"

I looked at George and didn't know quite what to say.  "I'm not sure,
George," I said carefully.  "I'm really not sure."

**********

Back in the lounge room I was feeling quite uncomfortable, a foreign
feeling in my own home.  The awkwardness went on hold when George and Mandy
joined us, and Mandy let us know it was time for her to leave.

"Are you sure you're OK without me, Danny?" she asked.

"Yes Mum!" Daniel sighed.  "I'll be fine.  I want you to have a break from
everything you do for me, day after day."

"Well, if you're sure.  George has your medication schedule and you need to
check your own copy because as you know you can't miss any of the tablets,"
she instructed.

"Yes Mum!" said Daniel, shuffling from one foot to the other.

"And remember to tidy up after yourself and help George clean up after
meals.  And no misbehaving, watch your language, and ..."

"Muuuum!" sighed Daniel, whose hopes of appearing cool seemed to be
disintegrating.

Ty laughed.  "It's OK mate!" he grinned.  "I'm over 30 and my Mum still
goes through the long list of what I should and shouldn't be doing every
time she sees me!"

Mandy walked up to Ty and kissed his cheek.  "I just don't know how to
begin to thank you for being so kind to Danny and me," she said.

"You can start by making sure you have a relaxing weekend at the hotel and
get yourself pampered!" Ty smiled.  "And remember, you can call Dan or drop
by whenever you want to."

Mandy thanked George profusely for taking on the added responsibility of
Daniel's medication.  She stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek.

"Thanks Mike," she smiled.  "Can I give you a lift anywhere?"

"Um, no," I stumbled.  "I'm, er, staying here tonight.  I'll be in the
spare room down the hallway, next to Daniel's room.  I'll hear him if he
needs anything through the night."

Ty waved his hand dismissively.  "I'm going to give Dan a walkie talkie,"
he told Mandy.  "I'll have the other one in my room so I'll be able to hear
him if he needs any help.  George's room is close to Dan's and George is a
light sleeper.  We've got everything covered."

Mandy turned her attention to her son and fussed over him while he
squirmed.  "See ya Mum!  Have fun!" he said quickly, hoping to hasten her
departure.  George and I walked Mandy to her car while Ty and Daniel
returned to the lounge to continue their songwriting mission.

George and I had no sooner walked into the lounge room than Ty stood and
said to George, "Dan and I might move into the music room, less
distractions."

"Very well sir," George responded.  "Let me know if you need any
refreshments."

Ty and Daniel retired to Ty's special room and the door was quickly closed.
George looked at me and I looked away.

"A glass of wine, sir?" he asked helpfully.

"Thanks George."

I sat on the balcony by myself sipping the wine and looking at the stars
for a while before George joined me with his cup of tea.

"Lovely night sir," he remarked.

"Yes George, it is."

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong, Michael?"

"You called me Michael?"

"I'm sensing you're sad," George replied.

"I'm not sure what I'm feeling, George," I sighed.  "I just don't know what
I've done."

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked.

"Thanks for the offer but I'll pass," I said.  "I think I might turn in."

"It's only just gone ten, sir."

"I know George.  I'm just feeling a bit knackered."

I finished my wine, patted George on the shoulder and made my way down the
hallway to the spare room.  I got undressed, slid into bed and closed my
eyes, willing sleep.  But tonight, sleep would take its time as my mind
went into overdrive trying to fathom what had gone wrong.

Much later in the evening, I heard Ty and Daniel laughing in Daniel's room.
I heard George give him the last of the day's medication before he and Ty
wished the teenager a good night.  And then the house was quiet.

But it was some hours before sleep would shut me down.

**********

The next morning I woke when George knocked on the door and entered with a
breakfast tray.  I sat up before George could place the tray on the bed and
said, "I'll eat with the guys."

"They've already had breakfast," George said quietly.  "They're sitting on
the beach with manuscript paper."

"Oh."

When George left, I leaned back against the pillows and pushed the tray
away.  I suddenly had no appetite.  I lay in bed for a while with my eyes
closed; I tried to apply my lawyer's mind to the problem with Ty, but my
heart kept getting in the way.

I eventually got out of bed and shaved and showered in the guest bathroom.
I dressed and went into the kitchen to make coffee and while it was
brewing, I stood on the balcony and watched Ty and Daniel in the distance,
seemingly hard at work on the song.

Standing at the kitchen bench drinking coffee I was trying to work out how
I'd fill my day when Ty bounded up the balcony stairs and started walking
through the kitchen.

"Morning!" I said, and Ty mumbled something in response.

"Ty, we need to talk," I started.

"I don't have time," he replied dismissively, before adding, "We're on a
roll with the song."

He disappeared into the music room before heading back down the stairs to
the beach with his iPod in hand.

I was still trying to get a grip on how things were unraveling when George
appeared with a load of dirty laundry in his arms.  Before he had a chance
to try and console me I told him I was going to the office.

"At the weekend, sir?"

"I'm a bit behind with a couple of things, George," I replied.  "It's a
good opportunity to get up to speed."

"You'll be home for dinner?"

"I don't know, George.  Maybe ..."

I threw some folders into my briefcase, grabbed my keys and left the house.
On the drive to town, my mind was racing as I tried to figure out why
things seemed to out of kilter.  Ty and I had never fought, and he was
showing a side of himself I'd not seen before.  Could it be that he was a
control freak and he was reacting to losing control?  Was he ill?  Were
things going wrong in his professional life and he couldn't bring himself
to tell me?  Had he met someone else?

I found it difficult to concentrate on driving, so I turned on the car
radio and found I'd tuned in half way through "Until You Came Along" : "My
world was so empty/Everything felt so wrong/I was losing my way/until you
came along" ...

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  I punched "off" on the radio dial
and willed myself to think about the next move in the Sony Music vs
Conundrum royalty dispute.  At the office, I immersed myself in the case,
re- reading the band's contract and all its royalty statements, and the
notes taken during meetings with the record company's legal counsel.

I almost jumped when my mobile suddenly rang at 4pm.  I hoped it might be
Ty, but it was Monique.

"Hi Mike," she said.  "Is Ty with you?"

"No, he's at his place."

"His place?"

"Yeah, Point Piper."

"Then where are you?"

"I'm at ... I'm at my place," I said lamely.

"Oh.  OK," Monique said amusedly.  "I've been trying to get him but his
phone's switched off."

"He's working on the song with Daniel this weekend."

"I need to let him know about the `Weekender' photo shoot before he leaves
for the farm, so he knows what he needs to pack.  Will you be seeing him
tonight?"

"Um, probably not," I replied cautiously.

"Well look, I'll tell you and you can maybe handle it.  It's for
`Weekender' magazine.  They're looking for some Aussie beefcake kind of
shots of three very close brothers.  You know the drill.  The
photographer's name is Ryan Cunningham.  He wants to know what locations
Stanthorpe offers."

Monique gave me his number and asked me to call and talk through what his
requirements would be on the day, what clothing choices he'd like and to
remind him that Vince had approval of the shots before they were published.

I phoned him and we threw ideas back and forth.  My knowledge of the farm
and its potential photo locations made it easy for Ryan to visualise what
he would shoot and as I expected, tractors and cows featured heavily in his
thinking.

After arrangements had been made we chatted briefly and Ryan suddenly asked
if one of Ty's brothers in the photo shoot was "the one who got injured in
Afghanistan"?

"Yes, that's Lachlan, the middle brother," I told him.

"Man, I can't imagine what he must've gone through.  And losing his best
mates and all," Ryan sighed.

"It was a tragedy," I said.  "Lachlan was very lucky.  He's getting married
next week, that's why Tyson will be in Stanthorpe."

"The soldier's getting hitched?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, to a gorgeous girl."

"Mate," he said.  "That's a moneymaker!  The `Weekender' would pay big
bucks for a photo exclusive like that!  I could stick around and do the
shots while I'm up there.  It'd be a scoop for me.  Whaddaya think?"

"Mate," I grinned.  "I like how you think!  That never occurred to me.  Of
course, Lachlan and his wife would have to agree.  How much do you think
it's worth?"

"At least 50 big ones I'd say," he replied.

"Come on mate!  This would be a cover and probably three or four pages.
I'm not going to bother ringing him if it's less than a hundred grand."

"Leave it with me.  I'll make some calls."

I felt good when I hung up.  Lachlan and Ellie might get enough money for
the slap-up honeymoon they couldn't afford, and plenty left over for when
the babies were born.  And Ty would certainly be happy to know their
married life was off to a good start.

It was less than an hour before Ryan called back.  "Good news Mike!" he
enthused.  "They''' go to 80 smackers.  And they'll throw in an
all-expenses paid honeymoon in Bali for a week at a 5-star resort.  But
it's gotta be totally exclusive.  And they'll have sell-on rights and
copyright."

"That's great mate.  Tell them they can have sell-on rights but Ty gets 50%
of proceeds, and that the copyright is shared.  Otherwise no deal."

"Give me a few minutes."

Ryan sounded pleased when he called back.  "They're good with the shared
copyright, but they'll only spring for 25% of proceeds."

"In principle, it's a deal, mate!" I said.  "I've just gotta see how
Lachlan and Ellie feel.  I'll call them and then call you back."

I was glad Lachlan answered straight away.  I could tell I'd interrupted
something when I heard Ellie's giggles.

"I can call back if you like," I offered.

"Nah, I'm always good to talk to you mate," he chuckled.  "I'm just sitting
on the couch kissing my girl, and feeling her tummy.  We're getting some
pretty big kicks lately.  I think we've got a couple of future members of
the Brisbane Lions!  Or a couple of really strong girls!"

I laughed and Lachlan went on, "How are things with Ty?"

I drew a deep breath.  I wanted to tell him what was going on, but I didn't
want anything to detract from his happiness in the lead-up to tying the
knot with the love of his life and the mother of his twins.  I kept it
light.  "Yeah, he's pretty tied up with Daniel this weekend, trying to
write the song.  But hey, I've got something to run past you and Ellie ..."

I talked through the offer, which was met with disbelief and then joy from
the happy couple.  "You mean, like, they'd just give us 75 grand to take
our wedding photos and publish them, and pay for a honeymoon too?  We
wouldn't even need to worry about hiring a photographer!"

"I take it that's a yes?" I asked.

"You bet your cute little lawyer ass it's a `yes'!" Lachlan bellowed.

"They'll need to talk to you both as well," I reminded him.  "It's an
interview and photos they're paying for."

"We'll talk to them all they want!" he laughed.

I felt I needed to caution him.  "Lachlan, it's likely they'll ask about
Rodney and Matthew," I said.  "You need to know the angle will probably be
`the lucky one of the trio finds happiness'."

"Oh."

"I'm happy to pull the plug on it, mate.  It's completely up to you and
Ellie."

"Well," Lachlan said pensively, after thinking it through.  "It will give
me the chance to really pay tribute to Rod and Matt in print.  And I reckon
Ellie would be happy if we donated half of the money to the education trust
fund."

"You sure you want to go ahead with this?"

"Yeah Mike, I think so.  It just feels right.  Thanks mate!"

I called Ryan Cunningham back to give him the green light, and we made
arrangements for the paperwork to be emailed to me.  In the car on the way
home to Point Piper I found myself whistling "Love On The Rocks"; I hadn't
felt so chipper in days.

Finally I'd done something that would surely please Ty ...

**********

The music room door was closed when I got home, and I could hear Ty
thumping the piano, trying to work on a chord progression that was
obviously giving him grief.  Every now and again he would sing a line,
full- voice, while he played ... "Give it all you've got to give/show them
all your will to live ..."

I walked into the kitchen and found George cleaning up.  "I gather you've
all eaten already?" I shrugged.

"Mr Hill and Daniel ate early," George said almost apologetically.  "I've
waited for you.  I'll serve the salad if you're ready?"

"Thanks George," I sighed, as I poured us both a wine.  We were sitting at
the kitchen bench when Ty's mobile started ringing on the balcony.  George
got up and went to tell Ty someone was calling.  He returned with Ty in tow
and as he walked past me without looking at me, I heard a grunted "hey".

Ty walked out to the balcony, careful to close the door behind him.  He
checked his missed calls, dialed a number, and started a conversation.
George and I looked at one another when we heard Ty yelling.  The sliding
glass doors between us and the wind from the beach prevented me hearing
what he was saying, but it was obvious he was very angry.

He finished the call, opened and then slammed shut the sliding door into
the kitchen.

"Who was that?" I asked tentatively.

"Vince," he replied tersely.

"Everything OK?"

"Yep" was all I got before he stomped back to the music room.

George and I made small talk rather than acknowledge the elephant in the
room, and an hour or so later I heard Ty and Daniel relocate to the lounge
room.  I looked at George with my best "wish me luck" look, and joined
them.

I hadn't even sat down when Ty's mobile rang again.  He looked at it and
said to Daniel, "It's my brother Lachie", before taking the call in the
music room.

While Ty chatted in private to Lachlan, I took the opportunity to sit with
Daniel and talk about the song he was writing with Ty.  We'd barely had a
chance to speak since he'd arrived the previous evening.

"It's fantastic!" Daniel enthused.  "Like, Tyson's done a lot of it but a
couple of the lines are mine.  Tyson says it's an affirmation.  We think
we'll call it `All You've Got To Give'!"

"Great title, mate!" I grinned.  "So you're a fully-fledged songwriter now!
Has Ty explained the process once you've finished the words and music?"

"You mean recording it?"

"Well, usually he records a demo first so that he can listen to it for a
while before he records his master vocal, in case there's anything he wants
to change."

Daniel was about to respond when the music room door flew open and Ty
walked into the room, barely masking what appeared to be rage.

He looked at Daniel and said, "Mate, I think you need to go take a shower."

"But I had one this morning," Daniel laughed.

"Yeah, but we've been on the beach a lot of the day and you've had a bit of
sun.  Best get rid of all the salt and sand before bed."

Daniel obediently got up and started walking out of the room.

"Do you need George to help you, mate?" Ty asked.

"Nah, it's all good.  See ya soon."

When Ty heard the bathroom door close, he turned to me and pointed his
finger at me.  "You!" he seethed.  "In the kitchen!"

I walked through the door with Ty close behind me and before I had time to
ask him what was wrong, he exploded.  "Lachlan tells me you've organised a
deal for the wedding photos with some fucking magazine??"

"Yes," I said.  "I was going to ..."

"HOW FUCKING DARE YOU??" he yelled.

"What??" I reeled.

"What the fuck gives you the right to enter into an agreement regarding my
career without having the fucking decency to consult me first?"

"It's nothing to do with your career.  It's ..."

"Let's see how much we can make from selling the fucking exclusive - Tyson
Hill Best Man At Brother's Wedding."

I had to fight to control my own anger and the urge to laugh at what came
across as Ty's conceit.  "It's got nothing to DO with you, Ty.  Hard to
believe, I know ..."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really," I snapped.  "The deal is for the exclusive photos of the
wedding of a critically injured Australian soldier.  The whole Tyson Hill
bit it almost incidental."

"That's even WORSE," he thundered.  "You're exploiting my brother.  He
doesn't know the tabloids like I do.  They'll turn his wedding into a
circus."

"You're being ridiculous Ty!" I replied between gritted teeth.  "It
involves one photographer, the same guy who's doing the `celebrity
siblings' spread.  He suggested it and I thought it was a way of getting
some cash for Lachlan and Ellie, so they could have a good start to their
married life, and a luxury honeymoon thrown in ..."

"I was going to pay for their honeymoon," Ty hollered, "but you've gone and
fucked up that plan.  You have NO RIGHT to go behind my back and sign deals
that involve my family."

I saw red.  "What?  You mean I took away your chance to flash your money
around?  Big brother can't take the credit for making everything rosy for
the family?  And just so you know, no deal has been signed.  It's Lachlan
and Ellie who'll sign it, and I thought because Lachlan's over the age of
18 he might just be able to make a decision without running it past you
first."

Ty opened his mouth to yell back but nothing came out.  His face was
reddened with anger and his fists were clenched.  Poor George was behind
the kitchen bench, cleaning the same spot over and over, no doubt wishing
he might be invisible.

"I'd have told you about this before I spoke to Lachlan, but you've been
avoiding me.  You've barely spoken to me since we got home from the farm.
I thought you'd be pleased that your brother and his wife could start their
married life with a nest egg."

"FUCK YOU, MIKE!" Ty yelled.  "Being a fucking lawyer doesn't give you the
right to organise stuff for my family without my fucking approval."

Despite my shock, I was about to bite back when I heard Daniel in the
lounge room.  He stuck his head around the kitchen door and asked meekly,
"Everything alright?"

"Yeah mate!" Ty replied, putting on a half-happy face.  "Let's go watch a
movie!"

Ty joined Daniel in the lounge room, leaving me and George to stand looking
at each other helplessly.  I sat at the kitchen table and put my head in my
hands.  "I can't believe this is happening!" I said.

"Something is very wrong, sir.  This is not like Mr Hill at all."

"Yes George, something's very wrong, but ... he won't talk to me.  I've
never seen him like this. "

"If you care to join them in the lounge, I'll make everyone some tea,"
George suggested helpfully.

"Thanks George, but I think I'll go to bed.  I don't really feel like being
around Ty right now."

Ty and Daniel were in semi-darkness with their backs to me watching the big
screen, so I disappeared down the hallway to my bedroom.  Again, I lay in
bed for hours trying to pinpoint the trigger for Ty's alarming behaviour,
but I drew a blank every time.

The house was quiet by the time I rolled on to my side and sheer mental
exhaustion meant I was able to drop off without any trouble, welcoming the
blanket of sleep.

**********

Waking late on Sunday morning, I rolled over and reached for Ty, only to
find empty space.  In that initial dreamy state all was well and happy in
my world, but reality crept into my room with the sunlight and the sinking
feeling in my stomach returned when I remembered where I was and what had
happened.

George had obviously been in the room with breakfast more than once, but
had kindly let me sleep.  Ever thoughtful, he'd left a tray with a
croissant, some fresh sliced fruit and a glass of orange juice but food was
really the last thing on my mind.  I curled up again and closed my eyes.
Being alone in bed only served to remind me how much I missed having Ty to
hold on to, and to love.  My mind drifted to the many Sunday mornings we'd
laid in each other's arms, filled with joy to just be together, in love.  I
felt like I wanted to cry, but instead I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to
sleep again.

I dozed for a while and woke again at midday.  I heard noises elsewhere in
the house, possibly Ty and Daniel having lunch.  I sat up, picked at my
croissant and drank my juice before slipping out to the bathroom to shower
and shave.  I didn't have the energy to deal with Ty's indifference, so I
dressed and lay on my bed for most of the afternoon.  I read case notes,
called my sister Lyn and then had a great chat with Steve who thankfully
seemed unaware that anything was wrong between Ty and me.

Late in the afternoon, I heard footsteps in the hallway and someone,
presumably Daniel, using the bathroom and then walking around in his room.
A short time later I heard the footsteps heading back to the lounge.  It
seemed like my cue to make an appearance.

Daniel looked pleased to see me, although there was no reaction to my
presence from Ty.  Daniel excitedly told me that the song was pretty much
finished and that when he got back from Queensland, Ty would demo it and
then work out the band parts for the actual recording session.

"Tyson can sing it for you Mike," Daniel enthused, looking expectantly at
Ty.

"My voice is a bit tired at the moment," Ty apologised, at the same time
giving himself an out.  "Maybe some other time ..."

George joined us in the lounge room with Daniel's packed cases, just as we
heard Mandy's car pull up in the driveway. When George opened the front
door and Mandy walked in, we were all taken aback.  She'd had her hair cut,
her face made up and she was clearly very relaxed.  It was Daniel who spoke
for all of us.  "Mum!" he gasped.  "You look beautiful!"

That's a melting moment for any Mum.  Mandy smiled and hugged her son.  It
had probably been a long time since any male had commented on her
appearance.

"Thank you Danny!" she beamed.  "And thank you Tyson," she added, giving Ty
a gentle hug.  "I feel amazing.  I had the best time.  Everything was just
so fantastic.  Thanks to you, this is the best I think I've ever felt."

Moving to me, Mandy hugged me and said "Thanks, Mike."

Once I would have just smiled, but I felt compelled – almost obliged -
to say, "It was all Ty's doing, Mandy.  And Daniel here has had a great
time.  He and Ty have written a song!"

"Really?" she exclaimed.  "Danny's that wonderful!  Can I hear it?"

"Tyson's voice is a bit tired, Mum," Daniel said.  "He did a lot of
singing.  It was like my own private Tyson Hill concert!  We've called the
song `All You've Got To Give'!  It's awesome Mum.  I'll sing it to you on
the way home."

George asked Mandy if she would like a coffee at the same time Daniel
stifled a yawn.

"I think Tyson and Daniel had a couple of late nights," I chuckled.
"Songwriters have to go with the flow!"

"Thanks for the offer George, but I think I should get this young man back
home for an early night!  Thank you all for having him to stay and for
making him so happy.  Danny, do you have anything to say?"

Daniel launched into a gushing expression of gratitude, thanking us all,
before giving us each a hug.

"You'll have to come back and stay again Dan!" Ty said.  "Maybe when we get
back from Stanthorpe you can come to the session with me when I record the
demo and then you and your Mum can come and stay for the weekend?"

"You mean, like, I'd be in the studio with you?" Daniel asked excitedly.

"You bet!" Ty smirked.  "And hey, maybe I'll get you to play one of the
guitar parts for the master recording, and then you'll get a performance
fee.  And you'll be able to say you've played on a record!"

"Man, that fuckin' rocks!" cried Daniel, punching the air with his fist.
For once, his mother didn't admonish him.  I looked at her and she smiled.

As we walked out to the car, Mandy walked next to me and whispered,
"Danny's right.  That fuckin' rocks!"  and we both laughed.

She continued, "You guys are the greatest thing that ever happened to
Danny.  He's just so happy and that frame of mind improves his chances of a
good recovery."

"Daniel's a special guy, Mandy," I smiled, as I kissed her cheek.  "You
should be very proud of him."

"I couldn't be prouder, Mike."

**********

When we were back in the house, Ty followed George to the kitchen instead
of shutting himself away in his music room. The lawyer in me wondered if
now might be the time to try and have a rational conversation and talk
through the issues, whatever they were?  I took a deep breath and strolled
through the swing door, just as Ty's mobile started ringing.  Timing!

He looked at the caller I.D., rolled his eyes and marched out of the
kitchen to the music room.  Before the door closed I heard him snap "Yes
Vince?"

I looked at George who sighed and deadpanned, "fasten your seat belts, it's
going to be a bumpy night!"

Despite myself, I laughed.  "Bette Davis!" I grinned.  "`All About Eve',
1952!"

"1950 in fact sir," George replied.  "I remember it well!  It was my 11th
birthday and I went to the Sydney premiere with my Mother."  His voice
trailed off as he stopped himself strolling down memory lane.  Before
either of us could speak, we heard yelling from the music room, as Ty
launched into a tirade against Vince.  The walls muffled much of his
conversation but we both clearly heard "you fucking conned me" and "I'm not
a fuckin' trained seal" and "what part of `no' don't you fuckin' get?"

It was when I heard Ty boom "you're a cunt Vince!" that I knew things were
really dangerous.  I don't think I'd ever heard Ty use that word before.

The next thing we heard was a bellowed "FUCK YOU!!" followed by an almighty
crash as something hit the wall in the music room.  In the hallway, a
framed platinum album award fell to the ground.  Moments later, Ty stormed
out of the room, stomped into our bedroom and slammed the door shut.

"Perhaps now's not the time for a heart-to-heart George?" I sighed, trying
to downplay the moment.

"A cup of tea, sir?" George offered.

"Yes George, tea would be good ..."

**********

Ty stayed in our room for much of the evening.  I helped George clean up
the dinner dishes and once the kitchen was in order, we sat on the balcony
and talked through the logistics of getting to and from Stanthorpe, and the
trip in between times to Grand Apartments.

George went off to his room to start preparing a list of what needed to be
packed for our time away and a few minutes later, Ty walked into the
kitchen to get a drink.  I braced myself, walked back into the room and
casually leaned over the kitchen bench as he poured.

"What time should we fly tomorrow?" I asked as casually as I could.

Ty shrugged.  "Morning."

I ploughed on.  "I should book online tonight to make sure we can all get a
seat, so I need to know a time that suits you."

"10am."

"That's means a really early start!" I smiled.  "How about early
afternoon?"

"No, I'm good with 10," he said.  And before he exited the room, he added,
"You can fly later if you like.  I'll get Monique to book my flight."

That was a slap in the face I wasn't expecting.  I cleaned up the tea cups,
locked the balcony door, turned off the kitchen lights and was about to
follow Ty to our bedroom when I saw he'd closed the door and that the
lights were obviously off.

I tried not to feel anger as I detoured down the hallway and into the spare
room that I'd used since the start of the weekend.  Again I lay in bed for
a long time before I felt sleepy, and by the time I drifted off I had
decided that I wouldn't be travelling at 10 with Ty, or indeed, anytime
Monday.

I woke very early and showered in the spare bathroom, before returning to
my room and texting Monique to ask what flight she had booked for Ty?  She
sent me an SMS saying he was booked in Business on DJ622 departing for
Brisbane at 10.10.

I fired up my laptop and logged on the Qantas site.  I realised Ty wouldn't
have thought to book the same flight for George, so it was something I
needed to do.  There was plenty of room in Business so I booked George's
seat, with no idea of whether he'd be sitting with Ty; they could work that
out at the airport.  I quickly booked myself a flight leaving Melbourne on
Tuesday, arriving in Brisbane around lunchtime.

I heard noise from the other end of the house and made my way out to the
kitchen.  George was making breakfast and Ty was standing drumming his
fingers on the bench, waiting impatiently for the coffee to brew.

I said to George, "I've booked you on the same flight as Ty.  You can go to
the airport with him."

There was no response from Ty, but George asked surprised, "you not coming
with us, sir?"

"No, George," I replied.  "I've got a few things that need to be done for
work, so I'll fly up tomorrow."

Ty turned and glared at me with a look that almost scared me.  "So after
organising this whole fucking thing, you're not going to be there for the
photo shoot?" he asked incredulously.

I sighed.  "I'll be there in time for the photo shoot.  But do you even
want me there?"

"You took it on yourself to set it all up, hotshot," he almost sneered.
"You need to be there to clean up if it turns to shit."

I wanted to raise my voice but I kept myself in check.  "I didn't set it up
at all, Ty.  Monique did.  I rang the photographer because she asked me to.
We were both trying to help you."

"HELP ME?  It wasn't MY idea to do this fucking stupid photo spread."

"It wasn't my idea either.  Monique was doing her job by passing on the
invitation from the magazine, your brothers wanted to do it, and you
agreed."

"And this shoot's got exactly fucking what to do with my music?" he
demanded.

"Don't ask me, Ty.  At the moment, I really don't care.  But just so you
know, it's called publicity, and it's part of every recording artist's
career.  A necessarily evil I agree, but still necessary.  Except, of
course, for you.  For some reason, you're above it.  Tyson Hill signs up
for the team, but won't play the game."

"FUCK YOU!" Ty spat as he stormed out of the kitchen.  I leaned against the
bench and flinched every time I heard a door in the house slam.  George
eventually joined me, sitting quietly out of the way with his single
suitcase.  I made us tea, and it was George who jumped when, at exactly
8.45, he heard Ty yell "George!  We're going."

I followed George out to the front door and gave him a hug.  Ty was
deliberately not looking at me as he picked up his two big cases.

"Bye, Ty," I said.  I got a grunt in return.

"I'm sorry for what I said before.  It's just I'm a bit rattled by the way
you've been lately ..."

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled as he walked on to the porch and pulled the
door closed behind him.

What mixed emotions I was feeling.  Sadness, almost despair on one hand,
and relief that I wouldn't be around Ty for at least 24 hours.  Even though
I had arranged the time off from work, I changed into a suit, grabbed my
briefcase and went to the office for want of anything better to do.
Contract law has a way of taking your mind off everything else.

I worked late and was surprised but pleased when Max Minchell, one of the
senior partners, asked me if I'd like to join him for a bite at a nearby
restaurant on my way home.  I was hungry, and this way I would minimise the
time I'd be spending alone at Point Piper.

We ended up at the Glass Brasserie in The Hilton on George Street.  We
ordered - poached salmon fillet, curried spinach puree, crab and coconut
lime sauce for Max, and pan fried gnocchi, asparagus, zucchini, corn, soya
beans, lemon thyme and parmesan for me – and most of the evening was
relaxed chat about politics and current affairs, with a nod to one or two
of the major cases I'd been working on.

Once or twice Max mentioned that I wasn't "quite myself", but I deflected
discussion by feigning tiredness and claiming I was fending off a
non-existent flu.  He asked just once if I was having problems in my
personal life?  I laughed that off, too.

Max was a good guy.  He was mid-fifties, divorced with two beautiful
daughters who were in their early to mid twenties and of whom he was
immensely proud.  Max knew I was gay and had never had an issue with it.
In fact we'd never really discussed it.  When I first joined the firm, Max
was working in the Melbourne office and he had been welcoming and
supportive of me from the start.

I'd been working for the firm for about three months and one Monday morning
Max and I were in the staff room making coffee.  We were chatting about our
weekends.  I had just started going out with Aaron and we'd had a `dirty
weekend' away.  Max probably sensed it from the grin I had on my face.
"Looks like someone got some action at the weekend!" he'd joked.  I'd
laughed and replied, "You bet someone did! Five times I do believe!"  Max
had picked up his coffee cup and slapped me on the back.  "Well done,
tiger!" he chuckled. "I hope you left him a quivering mess!"  Nothing more
was ever said.  It was just Max letting me know he knew it was a guy.

When he asked about "personal problems", I was tempted to tell him
everything.  I needed to talk to someone, preferably someone not connected
with the Hill family, but I resisted.  I'd be outing Ty, and presenting the
senior partner with a possible `conflict of interests'.

The evening ended well with Max again thanking me for the work I'd done in
the past 12 months and wishing me well for the time off I had ahead of me.
And he reminded me that he was always available to talk if I felt I needed
it.

I arrived home lightly buzzed from the wine, and as I sipped a tea on the
balcony I thought it might be a good time to call Ty.  I'd be ringing to
see that he and George got to Stanthorpe OK, but I would be hoping he might
want to talk.

It wasn't to be.  His mobile was on divert and I continually got his
message bank.  I spoke separately to Lachlan and Scott but neither of them
was with Ty when I called. Both of them expressed regret that I was not
already with them and both commented on Ty's "aloofness".  I could only
agree with them about his behaviour but was unable to offer them any
explanation.

I sat on the couch and tried to watch television, but my mind wasn't on
`Law & Order' which I often watched for the novelty of seeing how American
TV producers portrayed the legal profession.  I was fidgety and didn't even
have Scruffy or Floppy to distract me; they were around the corner sucking
up to Henri for treats.

I finally turned in and sadness once again veiled me as I lay in our shared
bed, able to smell Ty in the room yet seemingly unable to connect with him
on any level.  I had a fitful sleep, waking occasionally and reaching for
the man who was absent from my bed, and right now, my life.

With no George to wake me, I slept late the next morning and had to run
around frantically drying clothes and packing my suitcase.  I had no time
to eat and was thankful for the antipasto platters in the Business Lounge
at Sydney airport.  Olives aren't quite the right food for breakfast but
they filled a spot; I almost wished I had the martini they often came in.

Lachlan and Scott had separately offered to pick me up at Brisbane airport,
but I pretended not to know the flight number or time, preferring this time
to get myself there without doing anything that might put me on Ty's shit
list again.

Moments before the boarding call was made, my mobile rang.  It was Vince.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Hello Mike, how are you?  Great thanks Vince!  How about you?" I said,
trying lamely to mimic the missing salutation.

"Cut it out Mike!" he groaned.  "What the fuck is up Ty's arse?"

I couldn't help it.  "Certainly not me lately!"

"I'm serious, mate!" Vince insisted.  "He's gone all fucking weird on me.
It's like he's snapped?"

"For once I've got no answer for you, Vince.  I think he's ready to punch
my lights put, but I have no idea what I've done.  I know he had a
screaming match with you.  What was all that about?"

Vince was about to answer when the final boarding call was announced.
"Mate, you'd better save it til I get to Brisbane.  I've gotta board."

"Make sure you call me before you get to the farm," he said as he rang off.

Unexpected bad weather meant the flight was a turbulent one and I silently
hoped it wasn't an omen for the week ahead.  Rain was bucketing down at
Brisbane Airport but with minimal fuss, I completed the paperwork for my
rental car and within 30 minutes I was behind the wheel of a barely driven
dolphin grey Mazda MX-5 Special Edition Roadster.  Its Bluetooth was a
challenge, but I finally worked out I could take calls through the car's
audio system, and once I was safely on the M5 freeway, I called Vince.  It
was a call full of woe.  Ty doesn't get it ... Ty's being unreasonable
...Ty lives in a fantasy world ... Ty requires too much effort ...

Ty's selfish ... Ty's incredibly talented ... Ty's unreasonable ... Ty's a
great singer ... Ty's a great songwriter ... Ty's an arsehole ... Ty's a
great guy ...

I let Vince spew it all.  The first rule of any good lawyer is ... let `em
verbalise it.  And it all came tumbling out.

When he'd finished, I expressed my surprise.  I didn't know that the record
company was insisting that the next album be anthem-heavy or, as they
described it, `Love On The Rocks 2' ...I hadn't grasped how much the media
requests for his time had increased ... and I really had no idea how much
pressure was on him to be seen with the possible future Mrs Tyson Hill.
I'd been distracted, just loving him ...

The record company, while delighted with Ty's chart-topping history, was
well aware that his sales could soar even higher if he maintained a media
profile.  They were digging their heels in because, as they quite rightly
pointed out to Vince, he'd signed a contract agreeing to "make himself
available for media commitments at the discretion of the Company".

And what they couldn't understand was how a guy with Ty's looks and
physique wouldn't jump at the chance to be plastered all over the
magazines.

They'd been inundated with requests from magazines for photo spreads of Ty,
and from television programs desperate to feature him on teams or panels.
They'd been annoyed at the amount of media requests Ty was turning down.

But they finally spat the dummy when he declined yet another invitation to
be the featured interview guest on `Kenny Best Tonight', the highest rating
live television interview program in the country.  They had offered Ty the
opening and closing singing spot on the program, along with a long
interview about his life and his music.  I remembered that the first time
it came up, Ty was cold on the idea, cautious that Kenny Best often got
personal with his line of questioning, and if there was one thing that Ty
refused to discuss, it was his private life.

The record company had gone to the expense of producing a 30 second
television commercial plugging all Ty's product, to be run in ad breaks
throughout the program, and his refusal to do the show meant they'd
effectively wasted their money.

"They'll recoup the cost of the ad from Ty's royalties," I said
defensively.

"Correct," Vince replied.  "But they see it as their time and money being
wasted.  If Ty keeps this shit up, he won't be their number one priority
much longer.  He's not the only artist out there selling CDs you know?  And
let me say again, Ty signed that contract – they have his agreement in
writing.  They could go for breach couldn't they?"

"Yes," I agreed, before lamely adding, "He had no real idea what the
implications of that contract were when he signed it."  But I knew only too
well that naοvetι is not a defence in court.

"It's too late to be playing that card now, mate!" Vince replied.  "There's
a new album to be made and the contract gives the record company `approval
over repertoire'.  They want another anthemic album and so do the fans. And
your boyfriend's being a prima donna."

"Well, the contract was before my time, Vince." I said.  "If I'd been
around, I wouldn't have let him sign it the way it is.  It's very
one-sided.  It should have had a lot of things crossed out."

"Water under the bridge now," he said.  "We're stuck with it, and I'm
warning you, the record company has run out of patience."

I didn't know what to say.  After a few second of silence, Vince asked,
"Anyway, how about you, mate?  How are you bearing up?"

"Not too well, to be honest," I sighed.  "I'm not used to being treated
like this.  I know Ty's having problems dealing with the career stuff, but
he's shutting me out of his life.  He's seeing you and the record company
as the enemy, and he thinks I'm on your side."

"That's bullshit!  You normally side with him."

"Yeah, well tell Ty that!"

"But everything's gonna be OK with you guys, yeah?" Vince asked hopefully.

I paused.  "I can't really say, Vince," I said honestly.  "Things can't
keep going the way they are.  I'm doing my best, and I'll try and get him
to sit down and talk everything through, but he's very resistant at the
moment."

"Christ!" Vince groaned.  "You've gotta stick around.  He'll fall apart
without you."

"He's got me and he's falling apart anyway, Vince."

I spent the next couple of hours trying to work out my next move.  As his
lawyer, Ty was resistant to taking advice from me, and as his partner he
was putting up the shutters.  I started down the track of `maybe he doesn't
love me any more, maybe he's met somebody else' and started to feel sick,
so on went ABC National, and all the way to Stanthorpe I listened to what
middle Australia thought of the carbon tax, our new Australian Of The Year
and the Government's stand on gay marriage.

By the time I turned into Main Street I was composed.  By the time I was on
Maryland Street, I was feeling positive about a few days away on the Coast.
And by the time I was on Wallangarra Road I'd decided that a few days
together in the sun might afford Ty and me the opportunity to sort out all
his issues and – best case scenario – reach another compromise with
the record company.

I was greeted at the farm by Frank, who was as welcoming as always but I
detected an undercurrent of concern that Ty and I hadn't arrived together.
The photographer was on site, and the boys had just finished with the
makeup artist and the stylist and were about the start their session.  I
took my luggage into the house, gave Dot and George a hug, and followed
Frank around the side of the homestead to where Ty, Lachlan and Scott were
dressing as farm boys.  I introduced myself to Ryan and was immediately
backslapped and hugged by Lachlan and Scott who were clearly pleased to see
me.  Ty was polite towards me, but he treated me as if I was there purely
in a purely professional capacity.

The session was great.  The first part was three "farm boys" surrounded by
cows and chickens.  Ty was the consummate professional, as he generally was
in these situations.  Thankfully, he could still rise to an occasion,
despite the drama that often preceded it.  He gave Ryan everything he
wanted and more; a lasting record of the roots of three incredibly close
brothers.

Ty was completely at home posing for the camera.  Lachlan was
self-conscious but did his best, and Scott loved it.  He worked the camera,
and it seemed to love him just as it loved Ty.

Next came a series of shots of the boys in casual gear, sitting in and
hanging off the tractor, and then some photos of them all dressed up in a
more formal setting. Standing back and observing them all dressed up with
nowhere to go only reinforced to me how good-looking they were, each in
their own way.  As handsome as Lachlan and Scott were, there was something
that set Ty aside.  He was ... breathtaking.

Three hours later the shoot was over and Ty was effusive in his thanks to
Ryan.  I could tell he liked the way Ryan went about getting his shots, and
that bode well for the wedding tomorrow.

The moment Ryan left, Ty returned to being indifferent towards me and
Scott.  We pressed on as if nothing was wrong, and both of us helped Dot
and George prepare the big "night before the wedding dinner" at which
Lachlan and Ellie were the guests of honour.

The menu choice was left to Ellie, and she had asked Dot to make one of
Lachlan's favourite family meals – roast leg of pork with crackling,
baked potatoes, baked pumpkin, peas, beans, Brussels sprouts, apple sauce
and yes, Dot's famous gravy.  It was followed by homemade apple and rhubarb
pie with double cream.  So typical Aussie, but in Dot's and George's hands,
so memorable.

It was a happy evening.  Beautiful food, lots of laughs and jokes.  Lachlan
looked so happy he could almost burst.  Ellie had a smile on her face all
night, leaning back in her chair every now and again and letting a
different family member feel the babies' kicks.

Ty was the life of the party.  On the surface, everything was as it would
normally be at a Hill family get together.  But every now and again, I felt
Frank looking closely at me, and then at Ty ...

**********

Ty was asleep when I finally turned in, and he was already up and showered
when Frank woke me in the morning.  He was civil over breakfast, but made
sure he was never in a one-on-one conversation with me or Scott.

When the time came for us to get dressed for the early afternoon wedding,
Frank made the decision that the men would all get dressed together in his
and Dot's bedroom, while Dot would go to Sugarloaf Road to get ready with
Ellie's mother Lou, before fussing over the bride and the bridesmaids.
Partnering us boys were Ellie's best friends Dee Dee and Ronnie, and her
sisters Annie and Frances.

I overheard Frank telling Steve that Frances and her boyfriend Casey had
called it quits, and wondered whether Frank had any idea how skilled Steve
was in moving in on recently separated or divorced women?

Despite verbal disapproval from Dot and tacit scorn from George, Lachlan
got his way, and all five of us guys were wearing blue Levi 501 jeans
(cleaned and pressed of course), with matching dark blue open neck shirts,
and rented blue and white pin-striped jackets with Ellie's favourite
flower, a red rose, in the lapels.  We all wore black belts and black
boots.

When we were dressed we were corralled by George who, under strict
instruction from Dot, required each of us to pass muster.  Lachlan needed
to do up another button because he was showing too much chest hair; Scott's
shirt sleeves needed to be pulled down; my right shoe was scuffed and, of
course, Ty's jeans were too tight.  Poor Frank was sent to the bathroom to
"cut that nose hair!"

With time to spare, Frank had us all rounded up and in cars for the drive
to St Michaels.  We filed into an ante room in the Church, waiting for a
signal from old Reverend Clarke that we needed to take our places at the
front of the Church, while Frank returned to the entrance to await Ellie's
arrival.

We made small talk until the signal came, and we assembled in front of the
wedding guests awaiting the arrival of the love of Lachie's life.

It wasn't just Lachlan's jaw that dropped.  We all stood gob-smacked as the
organist struck up with the wedding march and Ellie began her walk down the
aisle on Frank's arm.  Frank knew he was standing in for a father who had
died too young, and it was a proud moment for him.

We knew that Ellie's `something old' would be a wedding dress that had been
in her family for more than 100 years, first bought, we were told, in 1884
for her great-great-grandmother's wedding day.  It had since been worn by
her grandmother, her aunt and her mother.

What we didn't know was how exquisite she would look in that tone-on-tone
ecru silk brocade patterned dress.  It was a no-brainer that Ellie was a
beautiful girl, but today – on her wedding day – she was exquisite.
As always, she wore minimal makeup and her hair just fell as it was.  She
radiated beauty and contentment.

The look on Lachlan's face as she walked that aisle will forever be etched
in my mind; a mixture of disbelief that he might ever be this lucky, and a
desire to get the formalities over and done so he could once again lose
himself in his girl's loving embrace.

Frank delivered the bride to his beaming son and then began a brief but
very touching marriage ceremony.  The vows were simple, with much of the
formality thrown out the window, and their kiss was spectacular.  And when
the bride and groom disappeared to sign the marriage register, Ty sang –
to a simple acoustic guitar accompaniment – `The Wedding Song'.

I could only close my eyes and shiver at the sheer beauty of Ty's voice as
he sang those popular lyrics; "Well a man shall leave his mother and a
woman leave her home, they shall travel on to where the two shall be as
one, as it was in the beginning is now and til the end, woman draws her
life from man and gives it back again, and there is love ..."

I took a moment to realise the truth of that lyric.  Lachlan was finally
separating from dear Dot and a new woman was taking her place as the alpha
female in his life.  That explained the tears rolling down Dot's face as Mr
and Mrs Lachlan Hill returned to the altar as a married couple.

Outside the Church, Lachlan and Ellie accepted the good wishes of their
wedding guests before being whisked away in Ryan's four wheel drive to an
unknown location for the first of their exclusive `Weekender' wedding
photos.

We made our way with everyone else to Sugarloaf Road, where the catering
company had set up a magnificent marquee where trestle tables groaned under
the weight of some seriously magnificent food.  The deal had been struck
that the caterers would provide most of the food, and Dot would make the
wedding cake.  She'd done an awesome job, a three-tier sage green rolled
fondant cake, beautifully decorated in the style of the French Milles
Fleurs. The gros grain finish was accented with preserved peaches, tiny
pears, apple blossoms and berries that had all been grown at the farm.  On
top, a bride and a groom, each holding a tiny pair of booties in their free
hands.

We ate canapιs and sipped champagne and wine as we mingled with guests, and
an hour or so later the newlyweds joined us.  Ryan gathered the wedding
party together for a series of posed shots with the bride and groom, and
from then on he unobtrusively walked around taking happy snaps.

The marquee had a small dance floor in front of the wedding table, which
looked over seven tables of eight, seating the 50 or so guests in
attendance.  To the side of the main table was a small P.A. system with a
fold- back wedge, and stools.  I guessed Ty was going to sing at some
stage, although of course he hadn't mentioned it to me.

Thanks to Lachlan and Scott, I got to meet most of Dot and Frank's family
and friends as well as some of the mates the Hill boys had grown up with.
As we went from table to table, I was variously described as "Ty's mate",
"Ty's lawyer" or "Ty's buddy".  The `spread' was dazzling; good country
fare, beautifully presented.  Between the three courses, Lachlan and Ellie
wandered from table to table, welcoming people and thanking them for their
gifts.  Somewhere in the background Ryan was discretely snapping away.

As Ellie's mum's partner for the evening, Ty was three seats away from me.
I noticed that Steve and Frances were getting along like a house on fire,
Scott and Ronnie were charming each other, and I was left to lull Dee Dee
into a false belief that I was having a great time.  It didn't help that
she couldn't take her eyes off Ty.  Thinking my association with him was
strictly professional, she gave me 10 variations of "he is so fucking
gorgeous!" and "he's so fucking hot!" and "he is so checking me out!" ...

I so wanted to tell her she was so fucking barking up the wrong tree, but I
so didn't really care.

At the end of the main course, there were speeches.  One of Lachlan's
schoolmates acted as MC, introducing Dee Dee to do her spiel.  She said
"so" a lot, but her speech was earthy and very sincere.  She threw to Ty,
who stood up, pulled out what looked like a prepared speech, glanced at it
and tossed it away with a grin.

He walked from his chair to the side of the table, near the sound system.
He welcomed everyone, told them how honoured he was to be part of such a
happy day and then paid tribute to his brother – "it's such an honour to
have him as my brother" – and to his new sister-in-law.  "Grab a picture
dictionary and looked up `beautiful'," he said.  "You'll find Ellie's
photo.  I thought a lot about what I might say at my brother's wedding, and
I realised what I really want to do is sing a song for Ellie, based on what
I know are Lachie's thoughts ..."

He caused goose bumps for most of the room as he stood and sang –
completely unaccompanied – "Lovin' You".

"Lovin' you is easy cause you're beautiful, makin' love with you is all I
wanna do, lovin' you is more than just a dream come true, and everything
that I do is out of lovin' you ..."

It got even more touching: "Stay with me while we grow old, and we will
live each day in springtime, cause lovin' you has made my life so
beautiful, and every day my life is filled with lovin' you ..."

It was a tender moment, soon to be topped by something even more emotional.
I was surprised when Lachlan stood up, kissed his bride, and strolled over
to Ty, pulling up a stool next to him as Ty picked up his acoustic guitar.

"Ty got that right!" Lachlan grinned as he leaned into the microphone.
"Ellie, every day of my life IS filled with lovin' you!"

There were cheers, and Lachlan waited for them to subside before he
continued.  "But darling, much as I love you, you need to know you're not
the only beautiful woman in my life!"

OK.  Tense moment.  People looked at one another.

"Before you, there was another amazing woman ..." he continued as Ty
started to strums chords.  And then with a tuneful voice I never really
knew he had, Lachlan started to sing ...

"Who's the one who tied your shoe when you were young, and knew just when
to come and see what you had done?, Mama, oh Mama, and who's the one who
patched your eye and told you not to cry 'cause he was too big for you to
try? ... Mama ..."

As Lachlan sang, Frank put his hand around Dorothy's shoulder at the
wedding table.

"Who's the one who taught you obligation then dedication result graduation?
, Mama, mama And who's the one who's shown the friends you've known a home
away from home when they were tired and all alone? Mama ..."

Tears?  Oh there were tears ...

"Who's the one who held a tear inside, when you introduced your future
bride?, and who's the one who didn't mean to cry, as you walked down the
aisle, the tears you saw her smile, Mama, oh, Mama, Ma-a-m-a-a, my
Ma-a-ma-a ... It was Ma-a-m-a-a ..."

Ever the loving son, Lachlan finished the song, walked over to his happily
crying mother, took her hand and led her to the dance floor where they
kicked off the dancing as Ty crooned "Have I Told You Lately That I Love
You?" in the background.

As the song ended, Ty cut in and started dancing with his Mum to taped
music, as Lachlan invited his wife on to the floor.  And so it went.  I
danced with Dee Dee, Scott danced with Ronnie and Steve and Frances did
their own version of Dirty Dancing.  The look on poor Reverend Clarke's
face ...

The next couple of hours were spent dancing, mingling, laughing, drinking.
As the wedding breakfast neared its end, Lachlan and Ellie disappeared to
change into casual clothes while Scott brought their Pearl CX-9 –
emblazoned on the back with "Just Married" and sporting ribbons and
streamers – around to the back of the property in readiness for the
couple's imminent getaway.

I took advantage of the distraction to empty my bladder.  I strode to the
temporary men's toilets erected behind the marquee, stepped up to a urinal
and unzipped.  As soon as I started to piss I was joined at my left by
another guy, but bathroom etiquette kept my eyes looking straight ahead.

"Something's up," he said.  It was Frank.

I grinned at him and then looked down at my pissing cock.  "Not at the
moment it's not!" I laughed.

"I'm being serious, son," Frank replied.  "Something's not right with you
and Tyson."

As I finished pissing I shook my cock and placed it back in my pants.
Frank was midway through the world's longest slash.  As I zipped up I said,
"Well when you figure out what the problem is, can you let me know?"

Frank finished draining the lizard and joined me at the sinks.  After
drying his hands, he squeezed my shoulder.  "He can be a bit intense
sometimes, that boy of mine," he sighed.  "Don't let anything ruin what you
two have."

Any further discussion was knocked on the head as a stream of men filed
into the toilet.  I exited to the sound of pants unzipping in unison and
the familiar chorus of "ahhhh".

We returned to find Lachlan and Ellie ready for their driver to whisk them
away to Brisbane for their two night stay in the honeymoon suite of the
Stamford Plaza, ahead of a honeymoon holiday at the 5 star Semara resort in
Uluwatu, Bali - part of their exclusive wedding photo deal with the
`Weekender'.

The sound system suddenly stuck up with "We've Only Just Begun" and I
flinched when it got to the part: "Talkin' it over, just the two of us,
workin' together day to day."  I remembered the time ...

Lachlan and Ellie did the rounds, hugging, kissing and shaking hands,
thanking everyone for their presence and their presents.  There were tears
by the time they got to us but they keep things brief before slipping into
the back seat of their getaway car and waving to us until they faded from
view.

We all mingled for a while more.  Dot, Frank and Lou formed a farewell
party, doing the `country thing' and showing their gratitude.  It all took
a couple of hours, but we were eventually ready to return to the farm,
leaving only the catering staff, and Steve.  And – surprise, surprise -
Frances.  Apparently she'd lost an earring and Steve was going to crawl
around the lawn with her trying to find it.

I know and love my younger brother and as reformed as he was now, if he had
a chick he fancied down on her hands and knees, they wouldn't be looking
for some diamond trinket for long ...

**********

Dot and Frank were wired when we got back to the farm.  The family gathered
in the kitchen and the proud parents chattered incessantly while George
threw together a simple but impressive quiche and salad.  Much was said
about how beautiful Ellie was in her family wedding gown, but Dot made sure
she made mention of how handsome her middle son looked, even if he was
wearing jeans.

She quickly qualified the remark by making sure everyone knew she thought
all three of her sons looked handsome ... even if they were wearing jeans.

We lounged around dissecting the wedding until Frank announced that we
needed sleep ahead of our trip to the Gold Coast the following day, and
within minutes everyone was preparing for bed.

I stayed behind to try and help Dot clean up, but she kept shooing me from
the room.  By the time I got to the bedroom, Ty was undressed and
pretending to sleep.  I stripped to my boxers and slid into bed.  I took a
deep breath in the darkness, slid across the sheets and spooned with Ty.
He tensed and moved away.  "We've got to be up early in the morning," he
said coldly, as I rolled on to my back and sighed.

"I'm having trouble with this, Ty," I said, but there was no response.

"I love you," I whispered, to a wall of apparent indifference.  "Please
talk to me Ty?"

Feeling completely alone in the dark, it took me a long time to get to
sleep. The morning started in usual Hill family farm style; Frank had us up
before 6am and the bathroom was shared with nothing much discussed.  We
dressed and made sure our luggage was ready – all under Frank's
supervision – and during breakfast, my mobile rang.

I moved to the porch to take a call from Vince, who was ringing to try and
arrange a time when he could sit down with Ty and me to "talk everything
through".  We came up with a choice of dates, but when I ran the idea past
Ty he flew off the handle again, making accusations of a "conspiracy".

"What?  There's a problem and Vince rings you?" he snapped.

"He'd ring you, Ty, but you don't take his calls," I shot back.  "And when
you do, you scream at him."

"He's my manager.  Why can't he talk to me instead of running everything
past you?

"I'm supposed to be your legal counsel, Ty," I sighed. "Managers get things
legalled, as a rule.  You have a contract with Vince, in case you've
forgotten."

"Yeah, me and Vince," Ty replied sarcastically.  "I remember signing that.
I don't remember signing anything that said I'd have decisions made for me
by a third party."

I froze for a moment.  Did he really say that?  A `third party'?

I gathered what courage I could and hit back with, "I'm a lawyer, Ty.  The
company I work for is engaged by your management company to provide
professional legal counsel and I'm personally assigned to you.  I love you,
but the professional advice I give you is independent and not influenced in
any way by your manager, or the personal relationship we have.  Or don't
have, as it turns out ..."

"Yes of course," Ty snapped sarcastically.  "But instead of representing
me, you're representing Vince.  I'm the product, and you and Vince are in
cahoots exploiting it ..."

I wanted to explode.  "Your manager rings your lawyer because his artist is
being an asshole and won't take calls," I seethed.  "Somebody needs to keep
the `Tyson Hill' industry rolling along and keep you out of court.  You're
the one who signed the contract..."

"Well if you're my legal counsel," he spat, "I'm instructing you to tell my
record company to go fuck themselves!  They want another anthemic rock
album?  They're not fucking getting one.  That's not what I do.  My next
album is gonna be an album I want to make.  And while you're at it, tell
Monique to shove Kenny Best Tonight' as well."

"Ty," I sighed.  "That's just unreasonable.  According to your contract
..."

"FUCK THE CONTRACT!" he yelled.  "I'm an artist.  I AM NOT A PUPPET ..."

"If I go back to them with this, they'll cite breach ..."

"I don't even know what the fuck that means," he replied, barely
controlling his anger.  "And I don't care.  You're the lawyer, and I'm
instructing you to go back to them and tell them to get fucked!"

I didn't know how to reply, and I was spared the need when Frank and Dot
turned up in the doorway, looking concerned.  "Is everything alright,
Tyson?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes Mum."

"Michael?"

"Sorry Dot, Ty was just expressing his disappointment that I won't be able
to join you all on the Gold Coast.  Something's come up with Ty's record
company and I need to deal with it straight away."

"You're not coming with us, son?" Franked asked, and I was touched by what
seemed to be genuine disappointment.  Simultaneously I registered Ty's
shock, but he couldn't react.  Seriously, I couldn't take another day of
this.

"Sorry Frank," I smiled.  "You and Dot and George will have a great week
with Ty.  Enjoy the time with him while you can, because he's got a busy
year coming up."

"It just won't be the same if you're not there," Dot sighed.  "Your work
can't wait a week, dear?"

"Unfortunately not, Dot," I replied.  "It's bad timing I know, but it
really needs to be handled now."

Left alone, Ty turned on me and said angrily, "Thanks!  Are you trying to
ruin my parents' first holiday in years, before it even starts?"

I stared at him, my fists clenched, and walked out the front door, slamming
it closed.  I got into my hire car and drove off, with no destination other
than Straight ahead in mind ...

I drove for almost an hour before pulling into a car park.  I switched my
mobile off, lowered the seat and lay looking at the car ceiling for a
while.  Eventually I sat up, pulled on my seatbelt and drove back to the
farm, only to find they'd already left.  I slumped over the wheel for a
moment and then got out of the car and let myself into the house.

Scott was out, so I was physically alone for the first time since I'd
arrived in Stanthorpe.  What was breaking my heart was the feeling that I
was mentally and emotionally alone, too.  I poured myself a small brandy
before turning in.  I slept, blissfully unaware of the twists and turns my
life path was about to take.

Life had dealt me another challenging hand, but I had no idea just how much
sadness there would be in the cards I was about to play ...

**********

Always happy to have your feedback.  marcusis32@live.com.au

FOOTNOTE:

You can hear other versions of songs referenced in this chapter via the
following links:

"The Wedding Song"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3IrCeP5slxw

"Lovin' You"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84Cy0PQ7BbM

"Mama"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATHfUIdy4zQ

"Have I Told You Lately That I Love You"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tv36_QAVLsQ

"We've Only Just Begun":
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvBCl3CBMXA