Chapter 32
I finally drifted into a peaceful sleep. When I woke up, I found myself
spooned up against Brian, my chest against his back, my body molded to
his, and my arm around him. I remembered where I was, and what had
happened.
And I felt peaceful. Maybe for the first time in my life.
I sat up, and watching him sleep, I thought about how we'd loved each
other for years. Often when Brian was in my thoughts, those thoughts
took the form of reflections on the years I'd spent trying to distance
myself from my love for him. But this time, as I sat on the bed,
listening to the steady sound of his breathing, I thought about
how he'd loved me in silence, keeping it all inside for so many
reasons; at first because he wasn't sure what to make of his feelings,
and then because he didn't want to hurt his sister, and later because I
kept pushing him away.
I thought about Neal and the destruction he'd brought to my life. I
thought about how Brian must have felt when he'd invited me to give a
presentation at the camp where he worked the summer after our freshman
year in college. How he'd hoped to find time to open up to me about his
feelings. How he'd had to watch me fall for Neal instead. I thought
about the years after that, years during which we never seemed to be in
sync with each other, never seemed to be in a place where we could tell
each other the truth.
And I thought about how he never gave up. How he was here with me now.
How he'd stood by me through the very worst, until somehow, against all
odds, he'd ended up sleeping in my arms.
I didn't know where we were headed. But I was ready to admit that,
wherever we were headed, our relationship would always be more than is
typically implied by the words "best friends." It had always
been more than that. Though neither of us had ever fully owned up to
it, we had blurred the line between friendship and lovers long before
today. Even if, right up to the moment, we'd never done anything more
physically intimate than a hug and a kiss.
The rest of the weekend, we didn't talk much about what had happened.
But it was clear to both of us that nothing was the same anymore. We
passed the time together, doing little things. Taking Chris to the park
and playing "catch" together. Watching TV together. Preparing meals for
the three of us, and occasionally for the four of us when Jonah joined
in.
I noticed I wasn't tense around him anymore. Smiles and laughs came
much more naturally. It felt okay for Brian to put a hand on my
shoulder. It felt right to lie next to him as I slept, spooned up
against his back. And my internal struggle to keep him at arm's length
emotionally had given way to a kind of acceptance, a willingness to go
where my heart was taking me; where our hearts were taking us.
The weekend went by without a word from either of us about what it all
meant. We were content to let the path lead us without thinking too
hard about it. And for the first time in forever, there were no
misgivings about doing that.
After he'd gone back home, we talked over the phone every day. He
called me up every night to make sure I was okay as I headed off to
bed, and to tell me that he loved me. In between our words, we both
sensed in each other an awareness of what we'd almost lost. Something
beyond price...something that we'd been afraid to let flourish all
those years. Something that had been waiting for us.
Waiting for us to be ready.
* * * * * * * * *
Brian kept coming down on the weekends. I could tell the trip was
wearing on him, but he wouldn't hear of staying home on the weekends.
Neal was still harassing me during the week, but although I'd still get
stressed and scared, his routine wasn't bothering me near as much. In
the visits that followed, Brian and I relaxed more and more in each
other's company. We talked intimately, sharing thoughts, hopes, fears,
dreams. I began getting used to being touched again. We were learning
how to be together in a deeper way than we'd ever been before.
I worried about what his parents might think of us being together.
They'd been so good to me; sometimes they were more like my parents
than my own parents were. I knew they loved me, but how could they
possibly accept the idea of Brian being with a man? Brian told me that
he'd told them about us the first time I'd let him sleep in my arms.
They were fine with it, he said. I tried to believe him.
About a month after that horrible flashback, he was down for a weekend
visit. The first night he was there, after we'd put Chris to bed, we
watched a movie. When it was over, Brian yawned, then smiled at me and
said, "I'm beat. Let's go to bed."
I smiled back at him and said, "Okay." He took my hand and we walked
into the bedroom. I watched him strip down to his boxers, and I did the
same.
He flipped the light switch off. We crawled into bed, pulled the covers
up over us, and lay on our sides, facing each other. He began stroking
my hair.
"This is where I was always headed," I heard him say in the darkness.
I rested my head against his chest and scooted in closer to him. In
response, he put an arm around me. He didn't try to hold me very
tightly; he was just present. Holding me.
After so many years, there were so many things for us to say, and we'd
been taking it at a comfortable pace. I'd discovered it was easier in
the dark.
"It's been a long road," he continued. "I don't know if I'm believing
it yet."
With my head resting on him, I could hear the sound of his voice
through his chest. I wanted to hear that sound forever.
Quietly I replied, "I know. I never thought...I never thought I could
ever be here. That night when we were kids, and you and I were in my
room and you were sleeping with Katie..."
He kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"I wanted you so much that night," I told him. "It hurt so bad to
listen to you making love to her. I wanted it to be me."
"I know, Sammy," he said. "But it's you now. Now and always."
I sighed. "I feel good," I said. "Better than...well, maybe better than
ever. I...I just need to go slow, okay? Things are still...well, I'm
kind of messed up in that department."
"If we never did anything more than this, it would be enough, Sam," I
heard him say.
"Not for me," I said. He laughed. "But thank you. I just need...I need
to ease into things."
"I know you do," he said. "I'll never pressure you. I'm here for the
duration."
I smiled to myself and drifted into a quiet, peaceful sleep.
That weekend, I allowed myself to begin noticing things about him that
I'd shut out over the years. The sexy, resonant sound of his voice. The
sparkle in his beautiful eyes. His amazing hands; big and strong and a
little rough, but so loving and tender when he touched me.
He had a fair amount of chest hair now. He hadn't when we were in high
school. His hair is blond, but I noticed that the hair on his chest was
darker, almost brown, with gold highlights, and it was curly. It made
him look so masculine. And at night I loved to run my hand through it
as I stroked his chest, his pecs.
The smell of his skin drove me to a fever pitch. Everybody's skin, I've
noticed, has a scent that's unique. The smell of Brian's skin turned me
on as much as the rest of him put together. It was incredibly soothing
to me, too. I can't really put it into words; it's smells like clean,
and like love.
In short, he was everything I wanted in a man physically. He had always
been everything I wanted in a man physically. But beyond that, his
quiet strength, his compassion, his kind nature, his no-nonsense
personality, his commitment to family, his honesty...those were also
everything I wanted in a man.
And I came to understand that everyone I'd ever loved I had
unconsciously evaluated in terms of how they measured up to Brian.
* * * * * * * * *
Jonah had met a woman that he was crazy about several weeks before.
She'd been around the house a good bit, and I liked her. The two of
them seemed really good together. The two of us were home together on a
weeknight for once, and Jonah took the opportunity to talk to me about
her.
"It's the real deal, Sam," he said. "I want to go the distance on this
one." He blushed a little, and added, "I won't screw it up this time."
I smiled at him and gave him a hug. "I told you it was okay."
"I know," he said. "I just feel so horrible that I..."
"I was just as much at fault as you were," I said, interrupting him.
"Anyway, it looks like things happened like they were supposed to all
the way around, right?"
"Yeah," he said, brightening. "I'm so happy for you and Brian. I hope
he doesn't hate me for what I did to you."
"He likes you," I assured him. "He doesn't like what I went through,
but you and I both know if you hadn't bent over and spread 'em for that
jock boy, he and I wouldn't be together."
He laughed. "Damn! You sure know how to put things diplomatically."
"It's Brian's fault," I said, laughing. "He's a lot more direct when he
talks than I am. I guess he's a bad influence."
"I can tell how much it bothers you," he said. I had to laugh again.
Jonah had dinner with us that night, and afterward, he loaded up a
bunch of his stuff and moved it over to his girlfriend's place.
In the weeks that followed, he was around the house much less often.
* * * * * * * * *
The next Friday evening Brian came to visit again. His school was
having fall break the coming week. Chris was going to be on fall break
too, and Brian had planned to stay the whole time. When I heard his car
pull in, I smiled.
Chris greeted him at the door. Brian swept him into his arms, picked
him up, and gave him a big smack on the cheek.
"What're we gonna do this weekend?" Chris asked him.
"Well, I guess we'll have to think about that while we sleep and come
up with a plan tomorrow."
"I can't think when I'm asleep," Chris said. "I just dream."
Me too, I thought. And lately the dreams had been very, very
good.
The three of us spent some time together catching up on each other's
week. We watched a little TV, and played a video game with Chris. It
was quiet, it was fun, it was like family. I remembered, from what
seemed like a lifetime ago, Brian saying "I could get used to
this." I remembered how confused and scared those words had made
me feel, and I remembered wondering what he could possibly be thinking.
Sitting there with the two of them now, I realized that this is what he
was thinking; this is what he was telling me he wanted. A quiet, warm
life, a place to make home and family with someone he loved. There was
a small part of me that still had misgivings, still didn't understand
how he could love me...but for the most part, I was willing to tell
that part to go take a hike.
That evening when we climbed into bed, we snuggled in close and assumed
our usual position, with my head resting on his chest. We talked for a
while, as we always did at bedtime.
The bedside lamp was still on. By its reduced light, I looked at his
chest, admiring it, and felt him begin rubbing my shoulders through my
t-shirt, as he whispered, "I love you, Sammy. I guess I've always loved
you."
Without really thinking about it, I kissed his chest.
He gasped.
That one sound, so full of surprise and desire, broke through my last
wall of resistance. My desire for him had been ramping up steadily and
I'd been resisting it, afraid of what would happen if I stopped. But
with that one quiet gasp, I lost my grip on it, and I discovered that I
didn't care.
I kissed him again on the chest. This time he took a sharp breath in
and held it for a second or so. Exhaling with a sigh, he ran a
hand up and down my back.
All the years of wanting him and needing him seemed to push me forward
and focus me on this one time, this one place. There were huge reserves
of pent-up desire inside me, pushing for release. I'd held them back
the entire time I'd known Brian, afraid of what would happen when I let
go. And that desire had grown, even during the period where I'd more or
less successfully pushed it back, away from my consciousness.
All of that was over now. Here, in this moment, there was only love,
and calm, and over a decade's worth of desire. I wasn't afraid of it
any longer, and in that moment I made a decision: I wasn't going to
hold it back anymore.
I began kissing him gently all over his chest. He moaned quietly; his
breathing got heavier.
Those small, quiet sounds chased away any shyness I might have had in
the moment.
"Undress me," I whispered to him.
His eyes got wide. "You don't need to d...Sam, are you sure?"
I laughed. "Does it look like I'm sure?"
He said, "I don't know, I..."
Before he had a chance to get the rest of it out, I reached down and
yanked his boxers down his legs, pulled them off his body, and tossed
them to the other side of the room. He lay there naked for a few
seconds, his eyes wide. I laughed a little and said again, "Undress me."
As the look of shock left his face, he grinned, sat up, and pulled my
t-shirt up over my head and off my body. As he reached for my boxers
and slowly began sliding them down, I lifted my hips so he could slip
them all the way off me.
I pushed him gently back down and climbed on top of him. He pulled my
head to his and began kissing me. At the same time, his wrapped his
left arm around me. I met his hand with one of mine and held it.
We kissed gently but insistently for a while. Then he looked into my
eyes and asked, "Can I touch you?"
I closed my eyes and smiled at him. I lay still on top of him for a
minute while his hand found my dick. A jolt of lust shot through me
when I felt him wrap his fingers around me. He began stroking me
slowly. I lay motionless and silent except for my deep breathing.
After a few minutes, he said, "Touch me, Sam." Tentatively, I reached
out and grabbed his big cock. He jumped a little, and moaned. I kissed
him again.
We held hands, and kissed, and stroked each other. I stared into his
eyes and took in all the love and lust they were radiating. It was the
most intimate thing we'd ever done. We were utterly connected, but in a
way that was totally safe for me. Just feeling his whole body stretched
out under me, feeling his naked skin--it was every fantasy I'd ever
had, come true.
I was struck by how coarse the curly hair on his chest felt against my
own chest. From time to time I watched his dick as I stroked him. I'd
seen before that he was big, but touching him, feeling him swell up in
my hands...I couldn't have predicted how that would feel. Still, of the
many overpowering sensations I experienced that night, nothing in my
imagination prepared me for the feel of him running his hand along my
bare back: It was like a mini-orgasm every time--I'd found a whole new
erogenous zone.
Our kisses and caresses and strokes continued and intensified. The
smiles turned into grimaces of ecstasy, the moans turned urgent with
the need for release. As I stroked Brian with determination, I felt his
hand on my cock, matching me stroke for stroke. Finally he cried out a
little and thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock and onto his chest.
That was all it took to set me off. I added to the mess as my dick
sprayed another several jets of cum onto his chest.
I collapsed on top of him and we lay there, breathing heavily.
Something clicked for me at that moment. It felt as though something
had snapped back into place, like a dislocated joint being put right.
As much as I'd ached over Brian across the years, up until this moment
I hadn't realized how his absence over the years had felt like an
ongoing, lingering hurt. This was what it felt like to be alive and
happy. Resting with him in the aftermath of our lovemaking, I realized
how wrong and incomplete and empty I'd felt in all the years that had
gone by. Now, by contrast, felt like the first time I'd ever been fully
whole.
I stayed on top of him for a long time, allowing myself to get
comfortable with the feelings. Finally, I pried myself off him and
walked into the bathroom. I pulled a washcloth out of the cabinet, wet
it with warm water, returned to the bedroom, and cleaned us up.
We didn't talk much afterward. There wasn't anything that needed to be
said. Eventually I turned off the light and snuggled up against Brian,
my chest facing his back. He was already drifting into sleep, but
before he did, he said, "I love you, Sammy."
I closed my eyes, smiled, and slept as peacefully as I ever had.
* * * * * * * * *
We spent a lot of time that weekend just sitting together talking,
touching more casually. We'd sit on opposite ends of the couch
with our legs against each other, talking, watching TV, laughing,
enjoying the opportunity to be together. For my part, I was taking a
leisurely pace adjusting to the unbelievable fact that my boyhood
fantasy was becoming reality.
When Monday hit, I had to go to work. I got a hang-up call from Neal in
between classes, but it barely registered with me. I felt a new
enthusiasm for life, and the day went by more quickly than I'd have
thought possible.
When I got home, Brian and Chris met me at the door, talking a mile a
minute simultaneously about their day together, laughing as they told
me about a misadventure in the park with Ajax and another dog, and
informing me that we were eating out this evening: Italian, and Brian
was going to pick up the tab. I sent Chris off to play while I went to
my room to change into some after-work clothes.
Brian followed me, saying, "That's one great kid you have, Sammy.
You've been such a good father."
I smiled. "I love it that the two of you are bonding so well."
Brian blushed a little, and replied, "Yeah, well...we also had a very
interesting conversation on the way home from lunch."
"Oh?" I said, wondering what embarrassing thing Chris had managed to
blurt out to Brian.
"Grab a chair for a minute, Sammy, you'll probably wanna be sitting
down when you hear this story."
I felt the blood drain from my face. It must have shown, because Brian
just laughed and said, "It's nothin' bad." Then he proceeded to give me
the highlights. As they were driving home from lunch, Chris had been
finishing his super-size order of fries, when out of the blue he turned
to Brian and asked, "Do you love my dad?"
They'd stopped at a traffic light. Brian swallowed hard, looked at
Chris, and said, "Yes. I do."
Chris continued. "Do you love me?"
Brian reached over, tousled his hair, and said, "What do you think,
buddy?"
"I think you do," Chris smiled. Then he grew quiet, and his face grew
serious, and he added, "Jonah loved my dad too."
The light turned green and Brian eased his foot onto the gas.
He said to Chis, "Jonah still loves your dad."
"I know," Chris replied matter-of-factly. "I love him too. But he did a
bad thing to my dad."
Cautiously, Brian asked, "What makes you say that, Chris?"
"I just see it in Daddy's face," he said.
Brian didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing. Finally Chris
looked at him intently and said, "Don't do a bad thing to my dad, okay?"
"I promise I never will," Brian said.
"Good," said Chris. And then he smiled and returned to eating his
french fries.
As Brian told me the story, I could feel the excess moisture pooling in
my eyes. I wiped my index finger along the bottom of my right eye.
Brian kissed me on the cheek and smiled. "You can count on that
promise, Sammy," he said.
I pulled him into an embrace. "I know," I said.
Because I did.
* * * * * * * * *
That night, our lovemaking was pretty tame, as it had been the previous
nights. Not that I thought that the "tameness" was a bad thing. Quite
the opposite: Each time we were together sexually, it felt like I was
falling deeper in love with him, that I was coming to know him more
intimately than I'd ever hoped was possible. It was understood that we
were taking the physical relationship slowly, and that we were taking
it step at a time.
My Tuesday-Thursday schedule was light, so the next day we went to the
clinic together and got tested for every imaginable sexually
transmitted disease. On Thursday our lab work came back, certifying
that we were both disease-free.
That night, we tucked Chris into bed together. As we walked out of his
room, Brian whispered, "Alone at last."
I blushed.
He said, "Follow me," and headed into my bedroom.
When we got there, he slowly began peeling his t-shirt off. I couldn't
keep my eyes off him as he lifted it over his head, grinned wickedly,
and tossed it at me. He sat down took off his shoes and socks; I'd
never imagined that I could get so turned on watching someone bare his
feet.
He stood back up, and giving me his best come-hither look, he unbuckled
his belt. He pulled it free and let it fall to the floor.
By then I was already halfway crazy with desire for him. I moved toward
him, but he shook his head "no" and scooted back. Leisurely, sensually,
he pushed his jeans down to his ankles and stepped out of them. As he
stood back up, I stared at the huge tent his dick was making in his
boxers.
I swallowed hard and let out a small whimper as, inch by maddening
inch, he began to lower his boxers.
I watched, frozen, as his cock slapped him on the tummy when it cleared
the elastic waistband of his boxers.
Stepping out of them, he stood naked before me, hard as a rock...
and then he lay back on the bed, spreading himself out in front of me.
He reached under a pillow, and pulled out a condom and some lube. "It's
polyurethane," he said, smiling, "so you don't break out."
He held the items out to me; I took them, my hands shaking with desire
and excitement. Then he blushed, and his smile faded, as he looked me
in the eye, and said, "I want you."
I looked into his face; the self-confidence twinkling in his eyes
during his striptease had been replaced by a look of
uncertainty...maybe of fear, even. For my part, I didn't know what to
say, what to think. So I just stood there, like an idiot.
And he waited.
I was so horny I could hardly think straight. I was also terrified. I
wanted him so desperately, but I could hardly believe what he was
offering. This was Brian. The love of my life. The straight guy I'd
never be able to have.
The straight guy I'd never be able to have: That was what held me back.
I still wasn't really convinced that he wanted to be intimate with
me...not like that, anyway. Not a guy like him.
Once I'd recovered my voice, I croaked, "Brian, are you sure?"
"I'm sure," he said.
I looked at him. He seemed so...so vulnerable. It began to weigh in
with me what a profound act of trust it was that he was inviting me
into his body.
"It's been good the way we've been doing," I said. "You don't have
to..."
"I know," he said, interrupting. "I want to."
"Really?" I said. "Are you sure?"
"I told you I am, Sam," he said. "Don't you want me?"
"Of course I do," I said. "It's just that...well...there's a big
difference between...well, the stuff we've been doing, and...and this.
Are you sure?"
After this the third time I'd asked, he rolled his eyes, grabbed me,
and gave me a hard, passionate kiss.
Then, pulling his face away from mine, he said with exasperation, "Just
do me, already!"
I blushed, and joined him on the bed.
I took a long time prepping him. I wanted it to be good for him more
than anything. Well, that wasn't entirely it. Honestly, I was also
buying time to wrap my head around the notion.
I stroked his cock for a while, then began alternating that with
sucking on him. I'd already discovered in our previous sessions that he
was so responsive to anything that he liked, it made it easy to know
how to treat him.
I lubed up a couple of fingers and watched them disappear inside of him
as I stretched him to get him ready. As I did that, I focused on
finding every sensitive spot on his body, and tried to kiss each one as
I was getting him loosened up for me. It was the most erotic time I'd
experienced in my life.
I must have been doing okay with my search for his hot spots, because
every time I hit one, he'd moan a little, and his face would register
the intensity he was feeling. Finally, he wrapped his legs around me
tightly, grabbed my face, and pulled me up to him so we could kiss. At
the same time, he reached down and grabbed my cock to line me up with
his entrance.
I looked into his eyes one more time and said, "Are you sure?"
He smiled, nodded, and pulled me even closer with those long legs of
his.
I slid into him very, very slowly. Not just because I didn't want to
hurt him, but also because I was so close to the edge that I was afraid
I'd lose it all on the in-stroke if I wasn't careful.
As I pushed carefully into him, he began breathing deeper and more
rapidly.
When I'd made it in to the hilt, he wrapped his arms around me, pulled
me close to him, sighed, and kissed me.
"I love you, Brian," I said. "I've always loved you."
"I know," he said, kissing my lips, my neck, the upper part of my
chest. "But what you didn't know was I've always felt the same."
I tried not to think back over all the years. I shook them off as I
concentrated on the present, on the man in my bed, the man I was buried
deep inside. Slowly, I began making love to him.
Even going as slow as I did, I didn't last long; it was just too
intense. As I felt myself losing control, I began thrusting into him
faster and harder. I was covering his face with kisses, and finally I
couldn't hold back any longer. I groaned, and my dick slammed deep into
him and started pumping its stuff into the condom.
For a few moments, rational thought completely escaped me and I just
gave myself over to the feeling of ecstasy I felt from climaxing inside
him. Somewhere in the reasonably-coherent regions of my consciousness,
as if from far away, it registered with me that Brian was moaning more
insistently as I pumped into him. As my belly rubbed against his cock,
I heard him growl and felt him pump out a load of cum.
I collapsed on top of him as I usually did during at the end of our
stroke-sessions. I didn't want to take my dick out of him. It felt so
right in there.
I lifted my chest off him and looked into his eyes. It seemed to me
they were smiling as big as his face was.
He kissed me and said, "There's no way that could have been any better."
I tried hard to keep my eyes from tearing up.
I almost succeeded.
* * * * * * * * *
Things began to fall in place after that.
For the rest of the school year Brian visited every weekend. That
summer he sold his place and moved in with me; we used the money to buy
Jonah out. It was perfect timing for Jonah, because in May he got
married to the girl he'd been dating. They used the money to get into a
place of their own. Brian found a teaching job at a good school in the
city, and life seemed to hold nothing but promise and possibility for
us together.
My flashbacks, as the months went by, faded in both frequency and
intensity. By the time school started again that fall, I hardly ever
had any.
In September, I got a call from the police officer who'd been assigned
to work with me in keeping Neal out of my life. Neal hadn't been around
that much lately, so I wondered what the officer had to say to me.
It turned out that he'd called to tell me my worries with Neal were
over. He'd been arrested for selling drugs and had ended up with a
pretty stiff jail sentence. When I hung up, I realized that another
challenge in my life had resolved itself.
From time to time in the early autumn of that year, I thought about how
rapidly things had changed, and how dramatically the troubles I'd had
for years had just disappeared. And though I knew that it wasn't this
simple, what it felt like was that Brian came into my life and swept
all those hardships completely away.
* * * * * * * * *
When Christmas rolled around, Brian and I went back to our hometown
with Chris to spend the week there.
I visited with my dad a little while I was there. He seemed like a
broken man. It was clear he wanted some kind of relationship with me
and with his grandson. He'd always been emotionally frozen, and things
hadn't changed much in that regard, but although he never said it, I
could tell he had regrets and remorse over the way he'd reacted to the
news about my sexuality all those years ago. I can't say that we
repaired the huge rift between us, but we were each trying in our own
ways.
We stayed with Brian's parents in their huge house during our visit,
the house where I'd felt more at home and more loved than I'd ever felt
in my own. On Christmas eve, we all celebrated with his huge family.
All the siblings and their own families were there.
When it came time to open my present from Brian, the whole family
gathered around to watch.
"This is from me, Sam, from the heart."
Then Brian's dad handed him a check, and said, "It's from us, too."
Brian looked at him in surprise. "We love you, Sam," said his dad. "All
of us, brothers and sisters too. We couldn't be happier to have a new
member of the family...and, well, to be honest, it's seemed pretty
clear to me and his mom that Brian has been in love with you since he
was a boy."
I blushed, and said, "Thank you. I can't tell you what it means to hear
you say that."
"We all mean it," Brian's sister Mary said. "Even those of us whose
hearts you broke."
I looked up at her a little fearfully. She smiled and said, "Just
kidding."
"Would you all shut up and let Sam open my present?" Brian said.
I unwrapped the box and opened it.
Inside were two matching rings. Beautifully made, and clearly expensive.
I was so overwhelmed, I couldn't talk. But Brian could see my feelings
in my eyes, and he smiled and kissed me.
"They're beautiful," I said.
"Alan made 'em," he said. His older brother Alan was a jeweler.
"Of course the rings are Brian's way of showing you that he wants to be
with you forever," his mom said, "but they're from us, too, that's what
the check is for, Brian." Brian put his arms around her and kissed her.
"You've always been like a son to us, Sam," she continued, "and we
couldn't be happier that you and Brian are in love with each other."
Brian took one of the rings from my hand and slipped it onto my finger.
"This is for forever," he whispered. I took the remaining one, grabbed
his left hand, and put it on his finger. He pulled my face gently to
his and kissed me. We looked at each other, caught up in the moment and
unable to speak. It seemed as though everybody else was similarly
caught up.
Chris, as usual, wasn't. "Wow," he said to Brian. "You really do love
my dad."
Everyone laughed. And here in the dead of winter, I felt as though the
summer sun was shining inside me; Chris was right. And because he was,
everything was perfect.
Almost.
-----------------------------
Note to readers: Thanks for the many
emails you've sent about Sam's story. It was my honor and joy to finish
it for him. There are two more chapters after this one.
You can contact me if you'd like at
aaptx79@yahoo.com.
--Adam Phillips