Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2005 04:10:51 -0800
From: fritz@nehalemtel.net
Subject: I Love Corey, Chapter Seventy-two

	Alas alas, oh woe is me.  I've just discovered I'm almost out of
those reject words I use to write the hated warning and disclaimer.  I've
got some on order, but they seem to be hung up in the mail.  What to do?
Guess I'll just have to make it short and see if I have enough words left
to get through it.  Here goes...

	If you're not of legal age, leave.

	If you find the thoughts or descriptions of gay sex offensive,
leave.

	If you live where it is against the law to read stories such as
this, leave.

	If you're gullible enough to believe this story is real, leave.

	Don't even think of doing more than just reading this story.  Its
mine and as such should be treated accordingly.  I don't steal your stuff,
don't steal mine.

	If you're not thankful to Don for his editing efforts, leave.

	Complaints, questions, suggestions, or comments may be sent to
fritz@nehalemtel.net Put "I Love Corey" in the subject line.  Whew, I made
it.  Fritz

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

			I Love Corey, Chapter Seventy-two

	Something was bothering me.  I finally managed to get my mind
working well enough to figure out what was going on.  Corey was jerking and
whimpering in his sleep.  He'd rolled off of me and was curled up with his
back towards me.  I rolled up on my side and spooned against his back,
pulling him against me with my left arm.  It wasn't long before he calmed
down and relaxed against me.  I just wished there was some way I could take
his pain away, but I knew that was something that wasn't going to happen.
Pain like that never goes away, it just slowly becomes endurable.  Life
goes on and we slowly learn to cope with our losses.  Corey would have to
do that, hopefully with a little help from me.  I knew that only time would
help, and much as I might like to change that fact, there was no way I
could.  Instead I would have to concentrate on supporting him so he didn't
feel alone.  Hopefully that would be enough.

	I'd been tired; in fact all of us had been tired, so we had gone to
bed early.  Of course that meant that I woke up early.  I was still spooned
up against Corey and could smell his hair.  Under other circumstances that
would have made me horny as all get out, but today it just reminded me of
how much I loved him and how I could try to help him.

	Once Corey had accepted the other boys, I had been spending more
time with them than I had on him.  He'd accepted that they needed help, and
knew he was first in my heart, so there hadn't been any problems with that.
Now he was going to need a lot of support and understanding until he
started to get over his loss.  Hopefully the other boys would understand
why I was paying more attention to Corey, rather than them.  LT had taken
his separation from his family the best.  I never had really figured out
why, but he had.  Maybe it helped that he still saw his brother and sister
occasionally, and they were fine with him.  In fact, he had even talked
with his mother a couple of times in the last couple of months.  While she
still wasn't very accepting, he could have probably gone home had it not
been for his father.  That was the real hang-up for him.  Maybe he thought
his family would eventually come around.  As for JJ, well he was slowly
accepting that his family had acted in a terrible manner, and that it
wasn't his fault.  So far there was no word of where they had fled to and I
could only wonder when that would happen and what his reaction would be
when they were found, I had no way of predicting.  Kyle was a real question
mark.  Once in a while he would start to come out of his shell, but then he
would go right back in.  Mark was making friends and seemed to be getting
along fine.  While I'd been working the most with Mark and Kyle, now they
would have to take a back seat while I tried to help Corey.  I was left
wondering if there was enough of me to accomplish that.  I couldn't totally
forget them, but I needed to concentrate on helping Corey.  He was the most
important person in my life.  I liked the other boys, maybe even loved them
as sons, but without Corey, I would be lost.  It was hard for me to believe
he had come into my life less than a year ago.

	In so many ways we just seemed to click.  He seemed to know when I
was upset and just had a knack of understanding what to do to calm me.
Sometimes all it took was his devilish little smile.  In fact I really
liked that smile.  It always reminded me of the good things to come, and
when I went to bed, they generally did come.  Other times he just pitched
in and helped with whatever needed doing.  Yes, I sometimes had to nag, but
never when I was upset.  Getting him started on the laundry, or some other
chore was a major project unless I was upset.  Then he would start all by
himself.  I sometimes thought he was trying to get me to nag when I was in
a good mood.  It was almost like some kind of game to him.

	By the same token, I just seemed to know what he was thinking and
feeling.  I always knew when he was upset or angry.  Most of the time I
even knew how to help him.  However this was different.  All I knew was
that this would take some time to overcome.  Hopefully getting home and
back into the normal routine would help.  The less time he had to dwell on
it, the easier it would probably be.  Yet I needed to make sure he had time
to grieve.

	As I'd been lying there, my arm had been on his body, with my hand
on his shoulder.  I'd been enjoying the scent of his hair and the feel of
his skin as I gently rubbed his shoulder with my thumb.  He seemed so young
and innocent in his sleep, yet when awake, he sometimes acted very mature
for his age.  Heck, I knew high school seniors that didn't seem as mature
as Corey often did.  It was sometimes hard to remember just how young he
really was.

	There was a little change in his breathing.  Corey was waking up.
Hopefully we could get through today without too much pain for him.

	"Good morning," I whispered as I kissed his neck.

	He just reached up and took my hand and wrapped it around his body.
It was pretty obvious that he wanted to be held, and so I did.  After a
couple of minutes I heard a sigh.  Suddenly he was moving, headed for the
bathroom.  Come to think of it, I had the same problem, and if I didn't
hurry there was going to be an accident.  I didn't have an accident, but I
did get a lot of relief.

	It was early, but we were both awake, so we just got dressed.  I'd
left the door open between the suites and Mark heard us stirring, so he
soon joined us.  He confessed to being hungry; no make that complained
about being hungry, so with a little prodding, we got the other three
moving.  Frankly that's about all I can say for it.  They certainly weren't
awake.  Also, it took more than a little prodding.  Anyhow, we made it
downstairs to the restaurant where food seemed to help JJ, LT, and Kyle.
They actually seemed to be moving under their own power by the time we got
back to the rooms.

	A quick look in the phone book and it was off to the nearest U-Haul
rental center.  Outside of having to fill out a bunch of papers and listen
to all kinds of safety rules, it didn't take long until I had a car
transport trailer hitched to the back of the Gator and we were headed to
the impound yard.  Suddenly it dawned on me that the house was locked up
and the alarm system was on.  Jeez, I'd totally forgotten to make any
arrangements about the new washer and dryer.  Luckily the bill was still in
the car, so a phone call to the appliance store soon solved the problem.
Directions on where to find the spare key, one of the spare alarm codes,
and everything was under control.  Since Dog wasn't there, I didn't even
have to worry about him biting anyone.  So far I had no idea if he was a
watch dog or not.  He hadn't showed any signs of aggression, but you never
know.

	I had all the paperwork filled out, and Mrs. Babcock's car loaded,
and we still had a little spare time before we had to be at the bank.  A
few donuts later and the time was gone and the boys seemed more contented.
Corey was looking a little perkier this morning, and I hoped he was
starting to come to terms with his mother's death.

	It's amazing what a murder investigation can accomplish.  Officers
Harmon and Pauling had talked a judge into a search warrant for the safety
deposit box, and they knew the manager of the bank.  That meant that almost
before I knew what was going on, I'd signed a couple of papers and the box
was sitting there, waiting to be opened.  The banker inserted his key, and
I did the same with the one I had found, and the box was unlocked.  With
that the banker left and we opened the box.

	There really wasn't much there.  A few more pictures of Corey, his
birth certificate, a dog-eared envelope marked "College Fund" containing
$247; some cheap earrings, an old identity bracelet, and the title to the
car were about it except for a letter addressed to Corey.  Officers Pauling
and Harman quickly checked those things over and thanked me for bringing
both the safety deposit box and the storage locker to their attention and
wished us luck.  They promised to let us know of anything they learned
about why Mrs. Babcock had been killed and left.  They didn't even take me
up on the offer to look at the boxes of stuff we had found in the storage
locker.

	So, less than a half hour later we were headed up the road towards
home.  Corey hadn't read the letter, but just glanced at it.  He had then
carefully folded it and put it in his pocket.  It was a pretty quite trip
home as no one had much to say.  Instead we just sort of rode along,
listening to the radio and lost in our own thoughts.  Even our stop for
lunch in Williams didn't produce any conversation that wasn't necessary for
the ordering of the meal.

	Since we had to drive right past it, we stopped at Rowlings' so
Corey could select a casket.  I knew it was hard for him to do that, and
would have been happy to do it for him, but I thought it was something he
would be happy he had done in later years.  Maybe the funny thing was that
we both picked the some one, kind of a dusty rose colored one, which just
seemed right for Mrs. Babcock.  It was a color she had looked good in and
had frequently worn.  We took care of a few of the details, but we really
needed to talk with Fr. George to do much more, so we went on home.

	It didn't take long to get the car off the trailer so I could
return said trailer.  The only thing was, I would have to take it to
Redding during the day, or on Saturday.  So instead I called Bob and drove
over and picked up Dog.  From my greeting, you would have thought poor Dog
had been abused for years and had just been waiting for me to rescue him.
The only places he didn't lick were those covered by my clothes and I think
he managed to get some of them.  Bob said Dog had acted pretty sad while we
were gone.  When I got him home, it was even worse because he had a bunch
of boys to greet.  I swear he about wore his tongue out.  Maybe the odd
thing was he seemed to sense Corey was sad.  After he had greeted all the
boys, he went over and laid his head on Corey's lap and just looked at him.
Before long, Corey couldn't stand it and picked him up.

	There was a note telling me the new washer and dryer worked.  Since
we hadn't been home Sunday, we'd have lots of clothes to test them out on.
I left Corey holding Dog and headed for the kitchen to see what I could fix
for dinner.  While no one was complaining about being hungry, I was pretty
sure they would be more than happy to eat.

	I'd no more than gotten dinner started when JJ wanted directions on
the new washer.  Fortunately dinner needed to cook for a while, and could
do so without my attention, so we headed down to look the whole setup over.
Pointing out that the operating manual was in plain sight, right on top of
it, and that it was very similar to the ones at the school, which he had no
trouble operating, didn't seem to answer his questions.  So I had to take a
quick read of the manual and point out how much soap he needed to use.  I
swear there are times I have no idea what goes through kid's minds.  One
time they won't listen to anything you say, and the next won't do anything
without detailed instructions from you.  It's almost like one minute they
think you are a total idiot, and the next you are the fount of all
information.  The next thing I knew JJ was off to gather up all the dirty
clothes he could find.

	I went back upstairs and finally got around to checking the
answering machine.  I had a call from Jerry and also from Uncle Matt that I
needed to return.  I debated about calling Jerry but decided to wait until
after I'd talked with Fr. George.  Our whole situation was still a mess and
I figured it would help if I had a little more information to work with.
Uncle Matt could wait until later, which is when I normally called him
anyway.

	There were a few comments, over dinner, about how many clothes the
new washer could hold.  All but Corey seemed happy with that fact, but I
wondered how well they would like it when the dryer was done and they had
to fold them all.  I'd tried to call Fr. George but his wife had told me he
was called out to visit a parishioner in the hospital and to try to help
their family.  She said it would probably be late before he was home.  That
left me trying to figure out just what we needed to do.

	After dinner I called Jerry.  I still didn't really know anything
but figured maybe he could offer some suggestions.  We talked for a while
and he suggested taking Tuesday off and finishing the arrangements for the
funeral, except he wondered if I could find time to make it to practice,
what with the game coming up on Wednesday.  That seemed reasonable so we
agreed.  I could use the morning and part of the afternoon, if necessary,
to get things under control.

	Since not much was going on I decided to call Uncle Matt.  While it
was earlier than normal, I could get it out of the way and maybe Fr. George
would call afterwards.

	Of course I ended up telling Uncle Matt and Aunt Sandy about
Corey's mother.  While it wasn't final, Rowlings had said that as far as
they were concerned, Saturday morning at eleven would be acceptable to
them.  Corey had suggested that time and I had no problem with it.  If
Fr. George was okay with it, that would be when it would be held.  Uncle
Matt insisted that I let them know if there was any change in the plans and
I agreed.

	Then we got down to the reason he had called.  His friend had
checked out the building in the Castro district.  I don't know exactly what
he told Uncle Matt, but Uncle Matt was all charged up.  He thought we ought
to buy it.  He told me it looked like an excellent deal and would give both
of us some diversity in our holdings.  It also turned out that there was
more property involved than I had realized.  Uncle Matt's friend said he
would have no problem leasing out the rest of the property.  The friend
also wanted in on the deal, but he didn't have as much money as we did so
he would not be a full partner in the ownership to start with.  The whole
deal would cost almost fifteen million and Uncle Matt and I would each put
up six and a half million.  The friend would put up the other two million
and do most of the managing of the property.  Over a period of time he
would eventually work his way up to an equal partnership by doing the
managing for no salary, and not taking any profits from it until he had
paid in his share through the value of his work and his untaken profits.
Uncle Matt and I would share the profits until that took place, and after
that, we would all share equally.

	According to Uncle Matt's friend, there should be profits right
from the start because the income from the leasing of the property should
more than cover the payments, taxes, and upkeep.  In fact, we weren't
really going to put up the money, only use some of our own holdings as
collateral for the loans.  There was one catch.  The gentleman that owned
the property wanted some kind of memorial, to his partner, placed somewhere
on the property.  We had to select some idea and design, which satisfied
the owner, and put up enough money to guarantee that the memorial would be
completed.  That would have to be done quickly because the owner was sick
and not expected to live more than a few more months.  That also accounted
for the low price on the property.  In other words, we had to get with the
program if we wanted to buy the property.  Uncle Matt's friend knew the
owner quite well and thought he had an idea for the memorial that would be
more than acceptable.  Had he had access to enough financing, he would have
taken the deal himself.  He was willing to accept Uncle Matt as a partner
on the deal because they had been good friends ever since they got
acquainted in college.  I got a free ride because Uncle Matt was my uncle.

	Since Uncle Matt had never steered me wrong, I told him to do
whatever he thought right.  I was informed that he would call his friend
and get it started as soon as we finished our call.  I had no idea of what
I was getting into.  It had sounded pretty simple when I'd first heard
about it, but now was much more complicated.  At least all I had to do was
sign some papers and promise to pay some money.  I figured I could probably
handle that.  While I had finally spent more this year than my annual
salary for the first time, I was still getting a bunch of money from my
investments that were way more than I would ever spend.  Had it not been
for the purchase of the pickup and trailer, and the remodeling of the
house, I would have been about even.  Of course the only things I actually
owned were the trailer and pickup.  The rest were still on payments.  I was
quite a ways ahead on the house and that meant that even if I only made the
normal payments, it would be paid off in about fourteen more years.  Not
bad for a thirty year mortgage.  Making extra payments, early in the
mortgage, really cut back on the total number of payments because it all
went towards the principal.  I just hadn't had much to spend money on until
the boys showed up, so up until now I had just poured my salary into the
house.

	So I had the phone call from Uncle Matt taken care of, and now I
had to wait and see what Fr. George had to say.  In the meantime I went in
and sat down next to Corey.  Maybe I could get him thinking of what he
would like for his mother's funeral service.

	"Do you know any songs your mother liked, especially hymns?" I
asked him.

	"No."  That wasn't much of an answer so I decided to see if I could
get a little more out of him.

	"Well, do you have any songs that remind you of her that you would
like played or sung at the service?" I asked, hoping he could come up with
something he liked and thought would be appropriate.

	"Do we have to talk about it?" he whined.

	"Fr. George is going to ask these types of questions and I just
thought it might be easier for you to answer him if you had thought about
it beforehand.  He'll want to know what your favorite memories of her are,
what kind of fun things you did together, really anything he can think of
to get a better idea of what kind of person she was.  Then he will try to
work some of those things into the service so people will have a better
idea of who she was.  Remember, a lot of people never really got to know
her because she didn't live here that long.  You want a nice service for
her don't you?  Questions like those will help Fr. George make it a nice
service."

	Corey seemed to be thinking, and before I could get back to the
subject, the phone rang.  It was Fr. George and he suggested we meet him at
Rowlings at 11:30 a.m. tomorrow.  I told him what little had been discussed
and he agreed that Saturday at 11:00 a.m. would be fine with him.  After
that we rang off.  It was getting late and I had no idea of where all the
evening had gone.  I shooed the boys off to bed and led Corey into my
bathroom.  A shower seemed like a good idea.

	It wasn't a frisky shower.  Instead it was a get clean gently
shower.  There was no playing around, but instead lots of soft scrubbing
and touching.  I wanted Corey to feel cared for, and the shower was one of
my ways of showing it.  Once we were dried off, I led him to bed.

	He quickly assumed his usual position, but he didn't really relax.
I didn't know exactly what was on his mind but knew it wouldn't do any good
to ask.  When he was ready he would tell me.  In the meantime I just
lightly rubbed his shoulder with my right thumb.  Since his left shoulder
was snuggled up in my right armpit, that was what my right hand could
reach.

	"What's going to happen to me?" he finally asked, seeming to forget
we had already touched upon this subject.  However I had thought about it a
little more so maybe I could give him a better answer.

	"Well, I suppose that not all that much will change.  I was your
guardian and will probably continue to be so.  I haven't talked with
anyone, but I don't really see why that would be changed.  After all, your
mother signed an agreement specifying that, and I would think that her
wishes would be carried out unless someone has an objection.  I don't think
your grandparents are going to object and I'm pretty sure Children's
Services isn't going to object, so I would guess things will go on much
like before."  I paused while thinking.  "If you'd like, I can probably
file to adopt you.  That would make it permanent, and no one could take you
away without a court battle.  That probably isn't necessary because I don't
think anyone will try, but it would settle the issue.  I can have Mr. Young
file the papers if you would like.  It's your decision Corey.  I just want
to do whatever will make you happy."

	"You mean you'd adopt me?"  There was wonderment in his voice,
almost like he couldn't believe anyone would want him.

	"Of course I'd adopt you.  I'll do anything I can to keep you with
me.  When you're laying there with your head on my chest, it makes all my
problems go away.  It just seems so right.  I love you.  What more can I
say.  Of course if I adopt you, that makes our relationship one of incest,
but I don't care.  In fact I don't care about much as long as I can hold
you and love you."  I paused for a few seconds.  "However, you have to do
what you want to do.  This isn't about me, this is about you.  Whatever
decision you make has to be one you're happy with.  If you want to continue
living here, fine.  If you want to live somewhere else, just say so.  Judy
will help you.  Whatever decision you make, it has to be one you think will
be best for you.  The fact that I love you shouldn't be your only criteria.
You have to try to do what you think is right for you."  I hoped I had made
it clear that he was free to stay and that I loved him, but also that if he
wanted to live somewhere else, that was his decision and I would respect
it.  Still I didn't really know how to make that clear.  Besides, I wasn't
sure I really could accept it if he decided he would be better off living
somewhere else.  Anyhow I was out of words and would just have to wait and
see what he wanted to do.

	"You mean you really would adopt me?"

	I raised my head slightly and kissed the back of his head.  "Of
course I would.  I'd be proud to call you my son."  After I said that, I
squeezed him a little tighter to me.

	Suddenly Corey was crying.  I didn't know what to do.  Finally I
asked, "What's the matter?  Did I do something to hurt you?  Please tell me
what's wrong."

	It took a while before I figured out what was wrong.  Corey was
crying and not making much sense, but finally it all made sense.  He still
didn't realize he was worth loving.  He thought he was worthless and the
only reason I even put up with him was for the sex.  No matter how many
times I'd tried, the message that I loved him for who he was still hadn't
gotten completely through to him before, and now it was starting to.  The
fact that I would adopt him showed that I really did want him, at least in
his mind.  I just couldn't believe it.  He accepted that I loved him on one
level, but not on all levels.  For example, he knew I loved him more than
the other boys, but that still never convinced him that I truly loved him
for who he was.  The fact that I had told him I would be proud to call him
my son, and the fact was willing to adopt him were suddenly allowing him to
start to understand that I really did love him.  I really didn't know what
to say but knew I needed to say something.

	"Corey, you've never understood, but I love you.  I've met lots of
other boys, but they never made me feel the way you do.  I think you're one
of the strongest and most courageous boys I've ever met.  The problems you
had to deal with are something I don't know if I could have handled at your
age.  I'm not even sure I could handle them now.  Yet you kept trying, no
matter how bad things got.  I not only love you, I admire you.  I love you
for who you are.  If I just wanted sex, I'm sure I could find lots of
people to supply that.  What I wanted was someone to love and admire, and
in you I found that person.  I didn't even know I was searching for such a
person until I met you, and then I suddenly discovered what I was looking
for without knowing it.  If we never had sex again, I would still love you.
Sex isn't a condition of my love for you.  Sure, I enjoy it, and I hope you
do too, but if you want to stop, that has always been your decision.  If
you want to start sleeping in your bedroom, I'll be lonesome at night, but
that won't stop me from loving you and wishing you were my son.  I know
I've told you all this before but you have to believe me, I love you and
only you.  Not for the sex, but just because you are you."  By the time I'd
said that much, I was choking up.  I just rolled him up on top of me and
wrapped my arms around him and hugged him for all I was worth.  I felt so
bad that I had never been able to put his mind at rest over the question of
did I love him.  There had been times I had thought I'd gotten through to
him, but his feelings of doubt and inferiority just kept coming back.  I
suppose I should have understood that because his grandparents wanted
nothing to do with him, and his mother had more or less abandoned him.  Yet
I still felt bad that I had not been able to make him understand just how
much I loved him.  Now I was down to holding him and crying with him,
hoping that this time he would truly understand that I did love him, and
only him.

	The crying slowly stopped.  My arms were still wrapped around him
and I could feel the tenseness in his muscles leave.  Finally he was just
limp.  He had cried himself to sleep in my arms.  All I could hope is that
those arms had helped him.  That, and my repeating that I loved him.  I
could think of no way to make myself clearer.  I couldn't count the number
of times I'd told him I loved him, but in the end, he still wasn't sure.  I
racked my brain, trying to think of a way to make it more understandable to
him, but came up blank.  There just didn't seem to be any way to convince
him deep down inside.  I finally fell asleep, wishing there was some way I
could let him look deep into my heart.  I knew that if he could do that, he
would finally understand what he meant to me and understand the depth of my
love for him.  If he could do that, he would finally know what it was that
I admired in him, how badly I wanted to share my life with him, how much he
meant to me.  Maybe I'd made a mistake by taking in the other boys, but I
hadn't really been offered a chance to refuse.  Perhaps if he had been the
only one I had to concentrate on, I could have gotten through to him.

	Sometime during the night Corey rolled off of me.  When the alarm
went off I was spooned up against him, my nose in his hair.  What a
wonderful way to wake up, the scent of the one you love filling your nose.
Sadly I had to move to shut the alarm off.  That little movement, shutting
the alarm off, started the whole process of getting up and starting the
day.  I just wanted to put my nose back where it had been, but Corey was
stretching.  Soon he would head for the toilet, and so would I.  In fact I
really needed to do that.  Judging by the way he was moving, so did he.
Needless to say it didn't take us long to make it to the toilet.  I really
need to put in a urinal, either that or some kind of bent tube.  We both
had the same problem, but eventually we got them pointed down and blessed
relief soon followed.  The morning hard on must be God's revenge for
allowing men so much pleasure from their penises, that is if you think He
has a sense of humor.

	The morning was pretty quiet, what with Corey not yet willing to
say much.  I convinced the rest of the boys they needed to go to school,
and that Corey and I would take the trailer back and meet with Fr. George
and Mr. Rowling.  We all agreed to meet for practice and that about covered
things.

	It didn't take long to hook the trailer back up, and off Corey and
I went to Redding to return it.  As I was driving along, I wished we had
taken the pickup to Sacramento.  While the Gator had handled the trailer
with the car on it, it didn't do so nearly as well as the pickup would have
done.  However I had no way of knowing that I would need to haul a car home
when we had left.

	"Corey, your mother's car is now yours.  It'll be a couple years
before you can drive it, but what do you want to do with it?  We can keep
it around and Kyle will soon have a driver's license.  If you don't care,
he could probably drive it and help haul the rest of you around until you
all get your own licenses.  If it bothers you to have it around, you can
sell it.  That way we could get a different car that would have no ties to
your mother.  You don't need to decide right away, you just need to think
about it," I offered while we were heading for Redding.  I hated to heap
more on him, but Corey needed to decide what should be done with his
mother's things.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see him start to
think.  His lips took on a slightly pursed look like they always did when
he was thinking.  Also, instead of staring blankly forward, his eyes were
now looking down, another thing he did while thinking.  Maybe it was better
to make him think, rather than just let him sit and feel depressed.

	As we got closer to Redding, Corey finally looked over at me and
told me he really didn't care what happened to the car.  He'd only ridden a
few times with his mother in it and never really got used to it being her
car.  We agreed to talk about it some more after the funeral, but for now
it didn't bother him to have it around.

	Checking in the trailer didn't take long.  They made a quick
inspection to see that it wasn't damaged, and soon returned my deposit,
which amounted to a credit card refund.  The bill wasn't much, probably
less than any other way I could have come up with to get the car home.
Sure, I could have gotten one of my friends to drive me down to Sacramento,
or even caught the bus, but when you added on the storage until I could
have done that, it would have probably cost more that way than the cost of
the trailer rental.

	Since we had a few minutes, we drove over and looked at suits.
Corey's sport coat was getting a little small for him and it was time to
get something that fit him and looked nice.  Even that went faster than I
expected.  He picked out a dark blue, single-breasted suit that had some
silk in the fabric and really looked sharp on him.  There was something
about the blue of it that really set off the color of his eyes.  I was
promised that the alterations would be done in time to pick it up tomorrow
afternoon while we were on the way to the ball game.  We even had time to
pick out a pair of shoes to wear with it.  After that it was off to
Rowlings' and the meeting with Mr. Rowling and Fr. George.

	Actually there were two Rowlings present, Mr. Alford Rowling, the
father, and his son Mr. Mike Rowling.  Of course there was also Fr. George
and, somewhat to my surprise, Mr. Besslor.  I was so thankful that I had
taken Corey to church and he had gotten acquainted with Fr. George because
that made it much easier for both him, and Fr. George.  Having Mr. Besslor
there also helped.

	Fr. George was what might be termed a people person.  He just
always seemed to know what to say and how to make a person comfortable.  He
suggested that we go to a lunch counter and have lunch while we discussed
what needed to be done.  We ended up at Flo's and all ended up ordering
club sandwiches.  Corey had never had one and really enjoyed it.  Flo's
potato salad was pretty good also and while I could make better, we still
enjoyed it.  All the time we were eating, Fr. George was gently getting
Corey to tell him about his mother.  Yet it never seemed like he was just
asking questions.  For example he started out telling some of the things he
had enjoyed doing with his mother, and then just observed that he supposed
Corey had done similar thing with his mother.  That got it started and soon
Corey was telling all about what he remembered doing with his mother, and
the things he really enjoyed, what he loved about her, and so on.  However
Corey had no ideas of what songs she would have wanted at her funeral.
That got a conversation going about what songs Corey might like.  When he
came up with one called "The Ninety and Nine," followed by "Sweet Hour of
Prayer," I wondered where he had heard those two.  They certainly weren't
ones that were used at Fr. George's church.  In answer to my query, Corey
said he had heard them on one of the old records I had from my parents.
Suddenly it clicked.  Dad had enjoyed listening to Ernie Ford and there was
a record that had those two on it.  When the boys had gotten started going
through those old records, they had listened to a bunch of them.
Mr. Besslor said he knew both songs, and even had the music for them he
thought.

	Corey just seemed to start opening up more the longer it went on.
Not only that, his attitude seemed to improve.  It was like he was coming
out of shock and was now just sad.  There were times he chocked up, but for
the most part, he seemed to enjoy talking about his mother.  I think
Fr. George managed to help him feel better about the rehab center and how
Corey had done the best he could to help his mother.  While we had talked
about that quite a few times, hearing it from someone else appeared to help
him.  Our lunch lasted almost two hours and at the end of it, Fr. George
had all the information he needed, and so did the Rowlings.  Both Al and
Mike Rowling appeared to be good friends of Fr. George and the whole thing
was about as painless as was possible.  It never seemed as if anyone was
asking questions, but the amount of information exchanged covered
everything that was needed.  It reminded me more of friends, setting around
with a drink, just bull-shitting.  Even I was a lot more relaxed, and I
hadn't realized I was that nervous and tense.

	About the last thing we really needed to get done was to order some
flowers.  So when we finished the lunch, it was off to the florists.
Fr. George accompanied us to offer advice.  Boy was I glad he did.  His
help made the whole thing about as painless as possible.  Since Corey had
not wanted flowers, but instead suggested donations to drug rehabilitation
centers, Fr. George told us what we needed to make the service look nice.
He had also been able to suggest a couple of organizations that would make
good use of such donations.  Before I knew it, everything was as much under
control as was possible.  Corey was pleased with the florists suggestions,
brought about by Fr. George's advice.  I was tired and figured Corey was
also, but it was now time to head to school and get ready for practice.
Corey had decided he would rather go to school the rest of the week because
that would help keep his mind off of his mother's death.  I had to agree
with his decision because I knew, from past experience, that if one could
keep one's mind busy, the pain didn't bother a person as much.  In other
words, just sitting around feeling sorry for yourself didn't help.

	We had time for a quick talk with Jerry, after which I went and got
all the equipment out and ready for practice.  Jerry had offered his
condolences to Corey and that seemed to mean a lot to Corey.

	I wasn't really in the mood for it, but I had to pay attention to
the practice.  This was the time that I had to decide who would be on the
starting team and who would be used for substitutes first.  I managed to
come up with my starting line-up by the time practice was over, but still
needed to figure out which of my players would make the best pinch hitters
and fill in other positions if I needed them.  Most of the team members
took time to tell Corey how sorry they were for him.  We finally got all
the towels and gear in the dryers, after they had been washed, and headed
home.  I just didn't have much energy so a couple of chickens from the deli
department at Downie's would have to do for dinner.

	Of course Ellen captured us.  She told Corey how sorry she and
Mr. Downie were for him.  We had to tell her when the service would be and
how we were all doing.  I was even so lazy that we got some mashed potatoes
and gravy, along with some salad, so I wouldn't have to cook anything.  I
did grab a few things so we would have plenty for breakfasts because we
wouldn't be home for dinner tomorrow night due to the game.  Corey had
picked up his homework assignments while I was setting the practice gear
up, so it was head home, have a bite to eat, and try to get all the
homework caught up.

	Dog was happy to see us as usual.  I had to say hello to him and
then we got everything into the kitchen.  I was putting the chickens on the
table when I happened to notice the answering machine.  I should never have
come home.  I just wanted to rest and there were fourteen messages on it.
I just ignored them and we ate dinner.  The boys pretty well polished off
the chickens, and even Corey's appetite seemed to have picked up.  We
finished dinner that the boys headed off to do their homework.  I could no
longer avoid it so I started on the answering machine.

	The first call was from Uncle Matt.  So I called him back and was
soon informed that he and his family would be down Thursday evening, so
they could attend the funeral.  On the next call I learned that Bruno and
Sara were flying into Sacramento on Friday morning and would rent a car and
drive up.  They were also planning on attending the funeral.  In fact, that
was the way it went.  Every one of the callers was going to attend and some
of them surprised me.  I wasn't really surprised that Uncle Matt and Aunt
Sandy, and Sara and Bruno would be attending, but when Steve Besslor and
his partner Aaron were going to come, that was a surprise.  They weren't
the only ones.  Carl Benson, the artist from Medford was coming; the whole
gang from the restaurant in the Castro district, and the list went on and
on.  Not only were there messages from a bunch of them, the phone kept
ringing in between my returning calls.  I was left wondering how most of
them had even heard of the death and funeral.  In a lot of cases, the
reason for the calls was just to make sure of the time so they could
attend.  By the time all the calls were answered, it was time for the boys
to go to bed.  They headed off for bed and I took a quick look at their
homework.  Then I joined them.  I was just tired and really didn't know
why.  I had been nervous, worrying about how to help Corey through his
loss, but just couldn't understand why it had made me so tired.  I know it
sure felt nice to snuggle up to Corey and relax.  To go to sleep with him
in my arms seemed to make my whole world brighter.  Corey soon assumed his
usual position with his shoulder in the area between my chest and arm, his
head on my chest.  I had never been able to understand how he managed to
find that position comfortable, but I enjoyed the odor of his hair as I
drifted off to sleep, lightly clasping him with my right arm.

			To be continued...