Long Day

By Dabeagle

Once more I found myself in the cemetery, sitting next to my mother and trying to channel her strength and love for me. I quietly changed the flowers next to the stone that marked her final resting place, all the while wishing I could just have one more good talk with her. I could really use the opportunity to hear her thoughts, to know that she understood me. Sometimes it seems as though things are moving so fast that I can't really get a grip on them, and now I just have to be brave and trust that I have made the right choice. I faced the cold stone and held my fingers to the name in granite once more as I tried to tell her what had happened since I saw her last.

"They want to settle," Mr. Fuoco said. He was our attorney in the case; one that Greg's dad had some connections with. "They seem to be eager to put this whole thing behind them and move on with their life," he frowned slightly, "they aren't exactly what you'd call remorseful about it. The kid is downright proud of himself."

"Well, something has to be done here, that kid has to be shown what he did was wrong!" my father fairly jumped out of his seat.

"Calm down, Mr. Tull, I'm not suggesting we take it, but maybe we can find a better way than to just reject this offer," Mr. Fuoco sat down and chewed on the end of his pencil while leaning back in his chair. The office we were in was actually a conference room at the law firm a few towns downriver from us. Mr. Fuoco was a tidy man, about 5 feet 11 with a clear Italian heritage. On his desk was a coffee mug filled with pencils, most sans eraser.

"What do you mean? Money isn't the object here, just so we are clear," my father responded.

"Well, it occurs to me that this kid acts the way he does because he has been taught to think a certain way. Maybe we could settle for no criminal charges if he performs community service in a gay shelter or community center and gets psychological help for his anger management issues?" he asked with a bright smile appearing under his bushy moustache.

"Well, I don't know how I feel about that," my dad said as he leaned back and looked at me, "he was trying to do Jake some real harm, maybe even kill him if he landed that bat the right way."

"Well, from the little Jake has made clear I think he wants Ron to learn a lesson, so does he learn his lesson by being immersed in a gay subculture to realize they are just people too, and get professional help, or do we try to make him miserable and teach him to hate gays even more from the twisted logic that the reason he is miserable is due to gays?"

"That makes sense in a really weird way," my father responded slowly.

"Well, the thinking is that if we expose him to more people that they will have an effect on him. Getting him removed from his parents and sent to juvenile hall will make him angry and then he has the opportunity to come into contact with kids that will make him worse than he is, more than likely, maybe teach him better ways of doing what he does already."

"Then there is the issue of Jesse, Ron's cousin," my father read the note I handed him, "though I don't know what way we could have any effect on that," my father looked up to face Mr. Fuoco, "as far as I know the kid lives there `cause his parents won't accept him."

"Would you?" Mr. Fuoco asked, studying my father with a look I wouldn't have thought his eyes possessed.

"I'm not sure I understand," my father drawled out slowly.

"If his parents sent him here because of his homosexuality, and these people are biased to the point that their son beats a gay student, could it not be said that another placement is the smartest thing?" Mr. Fuoco led my father by the nose to the conclusion that fit best.

"Oh!" my father exclaimed as the meaning finally set into his George Foremanized brain.

"Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together and try to love one another," I said to my father.

"Jake, I'm not sure the finances will allow for that, stock options keep the two of us comfortable, but it'd be tight with three people," my father said.

"It's no sacrifice," I replied, "Do what you can and let Mother Nature do the rest."

"Well, hypothetically, how do we even frame something like that?" my father said, looking back at Mr. Fuoco.

"That's the easy part; we just include that as a condition of the settlement. Cash can even be reduced in that event, and legalities concerning the actual family he belongs to can be handled through me," he replied smoothly.

"Well, look into it at least, see what kind of resistance they have to it," my father said with a sigh...

"I have a feeling they will be happy to be rid of him," Mr. Fuoco replied.

We were later notified by the lawyer that a recess had been called for in the case while he and the opposing lawyer negotiated the settlement, which provided the perfect opportunity for me to go to San Diego to see Greg. I decided I should call before Dad actually bought the tickets, as he suggested, and so once more I dialed Greg's home and his mother answered.


"Mamma, I'm coming home," I said happily.

"What?" she said while she giggled.

"I'm leaving on a jet plane," I said to her.

"Jacob, is this your subtle way of asking to come visit?" she laughed out loud at me.

"I'm a comin' home, my baby he wrote me a letter," I replied.

"Jake, you changed the song lyric! Have you been improving while we were gone?" she asked with much concern in her voice.

"I'm feeling all right," I replied.

"Well, let me get Greg, then we can figure out the dates, I am guessing Spring break since that's just around the corner, right?"

"And then we're gonna party like it's 1999," I grinned foolishly into the phone.

"We'll see about that, mister," she chuckled before continuing," hold on while I get Greg."

No clacks were heard on the tile floor this time as she left the room. A small, slapping sound announced someone coming to the phone, then it was picked up and Greg was there.

"Jake?" Greg said, out of breath, "Is it you?"

"Who can it be now?" I asked with a smile.

"Hey! Two phone calls in two weeks, I'm beginning to think you like me again!' he laughed, and how my heart leapt at the sound.

"I can't help falling in love with you," I replied happily.

"So is your dad going to buy you a plane ticket?" he asked.

"I'm a travellin' man," I replied.

"That's so awesome! Oh man, I am so looking forward to this!" he was fairly jumping on the other end of the phone line, "Jake, get your dad so they can iron out the dates. My mom is right here, ok?"

So the arrangements were made and the lawyer said he'd try and settle while I was gone so as to avoid any unpleasantness. That was fine by me, and I was only looking forward to spending some time with Greg. In the meantime I went to Nick's to hang out the Friday afternoon before the trip, as I left first thing Saturday morning. I walked in his back door, which let out into the kitchen, and the bottom half of his father was evident as it hung out of the fridge. His head popped out briefly, nodded at me, and then resumed its position as he scoped out the fridge.

I kicked off my shoes at the door and headed up to Nick's room, a small nuclear device would have been neater in this room than the disaster I saw before me. Clothes were everywhere; a stray sock was draped across the lamp next to his bed. The scent in the room was purely Nick, a sweet smell coupled with Gravity cologne. To this day I associate that smell with Nick, and it always reminds me of the deep love we have for each other. If he and I had been together first, then things might be different, as it is we tongue each other on birthdays and x-mas, always securing permission from the respective boyfriends first. Nick even dated a few girls in his time, a fact that I never liked because they would always say no if I asked to kiss him.

He walked in from the bathroom, Motor Trend magazine in hand. My Nick, he reads on the toilet, calls it the library.

"Hey Jakes, didn't think you'd be here today," he said quietly, "all packed?" he questioned.

I nodded in response while he moped a bit.

"Don't go breaking my heart," I said to him as I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me.

"I know it's the right thing, Jake, but it's not easy to do. You are so...different from anyone else I ever met," he sniffled a bit and sat on the edge of his bed before continuing, "I miss ya already. Do you know how much you mean to me, Jake?" he asked quietly. I nodded as I moved towards him, and he allowed me to embrace him.

"Time can do so much," I replied.

"Is it supposed to make me forget you were the first boy I ever kissed? I think you're always going to be special to me. Jesus! I'm blubbering like some old hag!" he laughed while squashing the threatening tears from his eyes.

"Always something there to remind me," I replied. I pulled back and held his face in my hands, looking deeply in to his bright blue eyes, "Blue eyes, baby's got blue eyes. Like a deep blue sea, on a blue, blue day," I pulled him up from his perch on the bed and started to slowly dance with him, feeling him melt into me, "and I say, blue eyes laughing in the sun, laughing in the rain. Baby's got blue eyes, and I am home again."

"I guess it must be hard for you too, loving two people?" he asked me from my shoulder.

"I'm not the sort of person who falls quickly in and out of love, but to you I gave my affection right from the start," I replied.

"I know you care, it's not that," he said glumly.

"I have a lover, who loves me," I took his hand, "How could I break such a heart?" I decided right then this maudlin moment needed to end, so I tickled him to break the mood and he wiggled away from me.

"Stop," he whined but I persisted, I just couldn't have him be sad, not on my account, I really did love him. I was also smart enough to know that my heart had been given away before, but I could still love Nick, and would for as long as I could breathe.

"Jake, I'm serious," he said with that lunatic light in his eyes as we circled one another looking for the opening we needed to gain the upper hand. He feinted, I dodged and he had me as we crashed to the floor in a fit of giggles as we wrestled and tickled our way to an upper hand.

"Nicholas! Stop that racket!" his father yelled out, and that was enough to make anyone stop in their tracks. His dad could be a prick, and I think he knew something of what had gone on with Nick and me. He sat on the bed and I sat next to him in silence, not really sure what to say to him.

"So, you think there is a chance Greg will be back?" he asked.

"No one knows," I replied with a shrug.

"I figure his folks have him enrolled in a fancy school, you know they always wanted him in the Foster Academy just across the river, dontcha?" he asked. I nodded.

"With the money his dad has now, he can go anywhere, I'd guess," Nick mused further. I simply sat and mulled the thought, not sure where it would end up.

"Call me when you get back, ok? I promised Trevor I'd help him with his Biology," he muttered. I nudged him and smirked as he looked down on me sitting on the bed.

"What?' he asked and I continued to grin.

"I'm helping him with homework, Jake, not going for a make out session," he said, all the while trying not to grin.

That was just part of the weirdness, Mom, and part of this feeling like things would work out in the end, for the best, you know? You always used to say things happen for a reason. Maybe things are about to change? I traced my hand across the cold stone and a small thunderhead grumbled in the distance, a promise of coming rain.

Saturday morning came at last and a new problem popped up. I couldn't get on the plane. Not physically, I am sure if I had the proper motivation I could walk, but my legs locked up in fear at the sight of the plane, it seemed too small! It had PROPELLERS, for crying out loud! My father reassured me it was a short flight to my changeover in Chicago, but I swear I wasn't sure I could get in that tiny thing and feel safe for even a few moments!

I finally did board, of course, after my father said, "Jake, you can't get laid if you don't get on the plane, son," and I looked at him like he had three heads. He just smiled and said something like he figured that would break my paralysis, and he was right. God, he was weird!

The inside of the plane wasn't much better. There was s single aisle with two seats on one side and one seat on the other. I was in a flying sardine can!

The second plane was a 767 and I felt a little better at its sheer size. It wasn't a horribly long flight, no movie and just a bag of peanuts and a soda to tide me over while I waited nervously for the plane to reach the airport. Finally the pilot announced the impending arrival of flight 103 to San Diego International Airport. Local time was 4:16; winds were from the southeast at ten miles per hour. The stewardess walked down the aisle to ensure our belts were strapped securely and our seatbacks were in their full and upright position. At last the plane jolted to the ground, once more safely attached to mother earth.

I tried to stay calm as I waited for people to get out of my way so I could get my bag from the overhead compartment; though I admit the urge to strangle someone was almost undeniable. This one fat woman was standing right next to me for what seemed like forever. I imagined I could hear her weight changing, though I couldn't say if it was for better or worse. I was just happy she didn't pass gas.

At last I could get off the plane and I moved through the gates. I know just a few years ago he would have been at the gates waiting for me, but the security wouldn't allow for that anymore, now you had to wait until they passed beyond the security checkpoint. I moved out of the arched doorway and towards the signs that read `Baggage Pickup'. Still no sign of anyone I knew, though I was looking around like mad. Then there was a hole in the crowd, a small break where I saw him and I just froze. People crossed between us and some streamed around me, but I was rooted to the spot. Once more the groundswell of humanity broke and I saw him, all of five foot five with his fine dirty blond hair poking out from under a ball cap. He was outfitted with a pair of blue jeans, beat up sneaks, and a white tee shirt that sported a baseball jersey tossed over it, open down the middle. It used to be a Mets jersey he used to wear on occasion, but now he was sporting San Diego's colors. His tanned skin showed that the weather surely agreed with him, and that surely agreed with me.

He waved, a small hesitant wave, and favored me with a small smile. My legs went on autopilot, following directions from my heart no doubt as my brain was overwhelmed with seeing him again, and while it was busy being overwhelmed with its good fortune, I stopped in front of him.

"Jake, you look good," he said warmly before stepping forward and embracing me. I felt like I had found something I had lost, a treasured item that was so precious, so necessary for survival that I was amazed I had continued to breathe without it. Surely it was something so strong that even the lingering memory was sustenance enough, the scent of him, the warmth of his skin and the heat of his touch. He pulled his head back and graced me with a small peck on the lips, a promise of more to come strongly implied in his eyes.

"OK, ok, no kissing in the airport and getting mushy," his dad said with a grin.

The ride back to Greg's new house was filled with chatter as he talked endlessly about anything and everything. I listened happily while his father groused, albeit good naturedly, about my being a good listener since Greg seemed to want to go like an auctioneer whose hair was on fire and his ass was catching. I just watched his beautiful face as he talked from his perch in the backseat, having foisted me up front. At last we got to his house, in the La Jolla (La Hoya) section of town, nice places to be sure. The houses were tan stucco with tile roofs, lots of graceful arches and plants growing from landscaped spots near the house.

Once through the massive front door the ceiling seemed very high up with paddle fans attached to it. His mom was out in a flash to see me, wrapping me in a hug that I hadn't realized I had been missing.

"Welcome home, Jake, it's been way too long!" she said with a smile, "You look great, sweetie, just adorable!"

"And so I thank you," I replied with a grin on my face.

"C'mon, I'll show you the house!" Greg said with a touch of excitement.

"Boys! Come on, your mother made her specialty for dinner and we need to go right now!" his father called out before we had taken three steps. Greg took me by the hand and we went out front where they stood waiting for us.

"Your mom made reservations," he grinned while she slapped his arm.

We went to the Il Fornaio restaurant right on Coronado Bay. It was near Imperial Beach and Greg told me we'd go there before I left for home. The restaurant looked right out on the bay and across at the city of San Diego and I was convinced this was paradise. The lights from the buildings shimmered on the water, small boats could be seen in the bay. We passed on the elegant dining room with its wood inlays and vaulted ceilings and sat on the exposed deck, smelling the scents of the ocean first hand. It was awesome!

"Jake, did Greg tell you he got into the Pacific Academy?" his father beamed," he's always been bright, but this!"

"The legend lives on," I smiled at Greg who looked less than pleased.

"Do we have to talk about this now, Dad?" he growled.

"Well, I don't see," he began but his wife quickly stepped in to avert what seemed to be a brewing battle.

"I'd like to propose a toast!" she said cheerily, "Welcome home, Jake, we missed you so much!" and we raised our glasses. This wine was the best I had ever had, not that I was a connoisseur or anything. Lambrusco, have to write that down somewhere. Glasses clinked and the moment passed, and the waiter was upon us, offering up such epicurean delights as I just didn't know what to have for dinner, though I was pretty much settled on my dessert.

We got back to the house quite late, the warm breeze blowing softly across this little stretch of paradise.

"That wind you feel is called the Santa Ana winds, Jake. It starts all the way up in the Sierra Nevada mountains before reaching us down here," Greg's dad said to me as we approached the front door of their home.

"No one knows for certain why it's called that, one of three things for sure I guess," and he held his fingers out one at a time as he ticked off the possibilities, "one is for the blustery Mexican General, one is from the word Santana which, depending on the language, can mean big or bad wind, or Satan. Or third, it could be `cause it comes through the town of Santa Ana," he winked at me, "just a bit of info in case you have to do a report on what you did for vacation besides lip-lock my son."

Very funny.

Greg took my hand in his and my suitcase in the other as we entered the house, and we were off. "This is the guestroom, but you won't be seeing that really," he said as we popped in and out of a room, "that's the bathroom," he said distractedly before proceeding up the hallway.

"That's the folks' room," he said with a dismissive wave, "and this is mine!" he said, opening the last door on the left and ushering me in. I had barely taken the room in when he turned me around and took my face in his hands. I felt a deep blush as he stared into my eyes, roamed my face with his touch, soft, gentle and warm, and then placed a soft, soft kiss on my lips.

"God, I have missed that," he said while kissing me harder, and I returned the feeling, wrapping my arms around him and inhaling his fresh, clean scent. Nothing in this world smelled like Greg, and nothing filled me with deeper emotions than he did. Boy was like a drug, and I was his more than willing junkie.

Was that a shitty analogy or what?

He led me farther into his room, after picking up my dropped bag from its resting place near the door. We sat on the bed and he began to talk.

"We have a pool here, and maybe tomorrow we can hit Imperial Beach, you ever been to the ocean, Jakey?" he asked excitedly, then grinned wickedly, "Can't wait to see you in a bathing suit!"

"If you want my body, and you think I'm sexy, come on sugar let me know!" I said to him, blushing but joyful at his energy from my presence.

"I want more than that, Jake, and I think you know that now," he bit his lip before looking away from me and continuing, "let's take a little midnight swim, huh?" He stood and slowly removed his shirt, keeping eye contact with me as he revealed his toned skin, smooth and tanned and showing a finer definition than the last time I had seem him. He toed off his sneakers and then did the first button on his khakis before looking at me with a small, sexy smile.

"Would you like to help me change?" he asked in a husky whisper. My fingers trembled slightly as my hands slid around his waist, then roamed up his chest to the quarter sized nipples, slightly teasing each as I passed. I slowly withdrew my touch until it was no more than fingertips trailing across his skin, past his happy trail and then I took hold of his zipper and tugged downward on it.

It was stuck.

No matter what I did, it was jammed in one spot and just wasn't about to give, not one tooth. He took my hand and pulled me up to his level, kissing the back of my fingers.

"Never mind, let's just get out there, huh, babe?" He smiled at me and stepped over to his dresser, withdrawing something I had a feeling he had purchased especially for tonight. A speedo had more cloth than this thing! He withdrew a matching pair and proceeded to drop his pants to the floor, forcing then over his hips and taking the boxer briefs down with them. My heart swelled as he looked back at me, open to my hungry gaze before he tugged on the absurdly tiny garment.

I quickly followed suit while he watched me, his physical attraction to me obvious, and in turn fueling my own desires for him. He took my hand wordlessly and led me down the hall, stopping by the bathroom to grab two towels which hid our relative state of undress. His parents were in the kitchen and Greg announced we were going for a swim, which no one protested. His mother emptied her coffee and took her husband by the arm, feigning a yawn and leading her protesting husband to bed. I knew I was being set up and loved every minute of it.

We walked hand in hand to the back door, a large sliding glass deal, and then into the backyard. The light in the backyard illuminated the heavily foliated area, the greenery almost hiding the eight foot fence that completely surrounded their property. He released my hand and ducked to a small shed, whereupon the lights in the pool came up, making the water appear phosphorescent.

Reappearing by my side, Greg dived into the deep end, and I cannon-balled just as he surfaced. This, of course, meant war and we began to splash wildly at one another in the eerily glowing water. He tackled me as I backed in to the shallow end of the pool, both of us coming up laughing as he tried to retain his hold on my water slicked body. Finally I was pinned to the back of the pool, no place left to flee except into his arms.

We stood in the water, droplets standing out on our skin, and held one another. This wasn't sexual, despite the lack of clothing, this was the all enveloping peaceful embrace of love, acceptance, and sincerity.

"Jake," he whispered in my ear, "I really am so happy you're here. I want us to be together again, I don't want to ever have to be separated from you like that," he sighed deeply before pulling back and looking me in the eyes, and that's when I saw there was something wrong.

"I need to talk to you first though; I need to get this out of the way between us about...Logan."

I stiffened instinctively at the name, and then forced myself to relax. I should be thankful, Logan was there when I couldn't be, and Greg had made him happy for a short time.

"Jake, I want you to know, I cared for him. He reminded me of us, of Jesse, how hard it is to come out and he was so...happy for a little while. I'm afraid, though, I don't want that to come between us," he met my eyes, pools shimmering with unshed tears. "I was so afraid you wouldn't come here, that you wouldn't call me back, that you...you wouldn't love me anymore."

I remained placidly seated, realizing that he must have felt the same way when Nick and I were together. I stood slowly and took his hand in mine. His hands were small, soft, and filled with an indescribable energy. No matter what, I knew I loved him beyond any shadow of a doubt, I knew where I belonged right then.

"From this moment, life has begun. From this moment, you are the one. Right beside you is where I belong, from this moment on," I replied to him as I kissed each of his eyes, tasting the salt of his tears and savoring that I was here to comfort him and bring him back to me.

"From this moment, I have been blessed. I live only for your happiness," our eyes locked as I continued, "and for your love I'd give my last breath, from this moment on."

I know that you probably think we made the sweetest love to date in that pool, that the raging erections from our lack of clothing and our proximity was simply too much and the emotion had to be dealt with.

You would be wrong. From the beginning, from the gentle prodding to know me to the best of intentions telling me had dated someone, Greg treated me with true love and respect.

"Would you stay, if there was a way?" he asked me as he ran a finger up my exposed side.

"So why ya gotta stand there looking like the answer now? It seems to me you'd come around, I need you now," I replied with a hand on my hip.

"That's a yes, right?" he asked before taking me in his arms again. He leaned forward and took my exposed nipple into his mouth and I sighed deeply, "I could get used to that," he grinned.

"Addiction's a fact," I replied with a smile. His eyes lit up and he grabbed my hand, tugging me as we exited the pool and Greg was more excited than ever as he dragged me towards the back door, damn near starkers! I put on the brakes in a big hurry and he looked me with this odd expression and then I pointed at my nearly nude self before comprehension dawned.

"Oh yeah, I meant to tell you, you look fine in that!" he said with a low whistle. I struck a pose and replied with as straight a face as I could muster.

"I feel stupid, but I know I still turn you on!" We wrapped towels around before running inside, me still not quite sure why were going inside, and giggling madly as we went.

"Dad, I have an idea!" he burst into his parents' room and thank god there was nothing going on in there. Matter of fact nothing ever does, if they want to punish him they shouldn't send him to his room, they should send him to theirs. But I digress.

"What? What's the huge idea that just can't wait?" he asked somewhat grumpily from bed. His mother was a study in quiet power, I think she was in on whatever Greg was up to.

"I want to talk about Pacific Academy for a minute," Greg said. He stood there with just a towel on him, and, Jesus, he was a physical distraction.

"Oh? About time!" his dad smiled as he levered up from his reclining position.

"Remember how you guys did this study with R & D and found that a more relaxed, happy employee worked harder and lasted longer, especially in the creative aspect?" Greg asked his father.

"Well, sure, that's why the offices have bright carpeting and there are couches and whatnot scattered around. But what does this have to do with Pacific Academy?"

"Well, I think we both know what my big problem with being here instead of back where we used to live is, right? We have discussed that enough."

"You are not going to Foster Academy, there is an agreement with our company and Pacific on your tuition and I am not going to ask Jake's dad for you to live there, it's out of the question, Greg," his father said firmly.

"Dad, what if Jake went to school here with me instead?" he asked. My breath caught in my throat, was he insane? We didn't even have the money to send me to Foster, what makes him think I can go to Pacific?

"I think that Jake's dad might miss him a little," his dad said with some sarcasm.

"Jake and I could go there for summers," Greg countered.

"But, what about tuition? We are getting a break, the company has a standing arrangement, who is to say he'll even want to pay to send him all the way out here?" his dad asked, backpedaling from Greg's verbal volleys.

"You have said more than once you wish he were back on the team, he could work from home, not like it wouldn't be a benefit to you and he could use the work since he has stayed home since Caspian got bought, Dad. You have others that telecommute, why not him? Then he could get the same break we are getting," he asked in earnest. I was awestruck, truly impressed with his logic and how well it was planned out.

"Well, who is to say he'd even consider that?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"He has, George," Greg's mother said, breaking her silence, "and he said yes."


That week in San Diego formed the foundation for me, one that I needed more than I realized as I sat in front of my mother, trying to explain that I wasn't going to be around for a while, but also to let her know she wasn't forgotten. I wished that she could be here, just so I could be sure she was ok, but she was beyond my reach. I just wish she could tell me she understood, and that she loved me. I know she does, I just wish I could hear it. Then the wind kicked up, ruffling my hair and drying the solitary tear on my face and I wondered if she hadn't been there for just a moment.


So guess you are wondering what became of us? Well, if you've come this far and still want to know, I couldn't say no.

Trevor: Believe it or not, he and Nick dated for a short time, like real short. Trevor wanted too much, too fast, and Nick knows where he wants to be. It wasn't with Trevor.

Rich: Goes to school nights while taking a well paying job with a local distributor of mind enhancing liquids, and is naturally a friend to us all.

Mark: Continues to be a close friend, has two lovely children and a wife who refuses to divulge her recipes!

Tommy: Always the troublemaker, Tommy now coaches the local High School baseball team and teaches gym. His wife shares recipes and has agreed to help us in our plan to acquire Mark's wife's recipes.

Ron: Well, we tried. He's a politician, although no more than a lackey. He rarely comes to town and his family moved some time ago. Good riddance.

Jesse: Moved in with my father after some legal wrangling with his guardians and his parents by Mr. Fuoco. He is now a Chemistry teacher on Long Island. We don't see him much, except for family holidays which he always spends with us.

Becky: Married Ron. Made for each other.

Mr. Tull (Dad): Married a lovely lady named Rosalind who makes him very happy. She cut the cord to his George Foreman Grill.

Nick: He never really settled down, at least as to one side of the fence or another. Made for some interesting College nights, this I can tell you. He finally did land though, with a dashing blond haired and bright blue eyed fellow named Steve. And yea, I know you are dying to know, I hang mistletoe out of season whenever Nick is in town. I even put copies of Motor Trend in the little magazine rack in the bathroom when he stays over.

Greg and I: Still together, he's still sexy as hell, and to boot can still squeeze into that Speedo on diet pills. We're going to Vermont next month, want to go?



Contact the Author