Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2017 15:40:41 -1000
From: Mark Dross <stateofblues@gmail.com>
Subject: Loving Conor Chapter 23

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Loving Conor - Chapter 23

I had been here before... in some surreal place where time seems to stand
still. The Sun had set and rose again, waves continued to crash against the
beach, and people everywhere went about their business, all oblivious to
the fact that my world... was just beginning.

My new husband jumped into my arms, wrapped his legs around my waist, then
looked down and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss had always taken me to
another place, had always pulled me from my surroundings and made the world
disappear, but this was something else entirely. Between the breathless
whispers of "I love you!" and "We did it!", beyond our mingled tears and
dancing tongues, I became profoundly aware of everyone around us, of the
love and support of our friends and family as they clapped and cheered us
on. Although their approval wasn't a requirement of our love or our
marriage, it touched me deeply... even when our kiss lasted a bit longer
than Sean's thirst could handle.

"Save some snoggin' for the honeymoon why don't ya'?! There's a keg o'
black goin' ripe!"

Conor pulled his face from mine with a grin. There was no chance of the
beer going bad, but we got the hint. Our hands were still tied together and
the one arm holding him up had reached its limit anyway, so I let him slide
down. Cillian carried three pints from the bar, handing one to Sean and
filling our free hands with the other two as Luke, Tom, and Sam began
serving the guests. The microphone was passed to Sean who started to speak
twice before he could get any words out.

"I know you're all expecting some embarrassing tidbits about Conor, but
after what we just witnessed, I can't bring myself to it. You see, I've
known and loved Conor for most of my life, and we've been through heaven
and hell together. I knew him in the worst of times, times that would break
most folks, but not Conor. When life or someone he loved knocked him down,
he would stand up straight, smile, and grow stronger. I knew him in the
best of times, like the day he stuck his first backflip. The stubborn
chancer fell on his face over and over, but he would just pick himself up
and try again. I'll never forget his smile when his feet finally hit the
ground. It's that same smile that you see right now."

Sean looked directly at Conor, then paused as the mist in his eyes turned
to streaks running down his face.

"Conor. Brother. I've never told you this but you were always my
inspiration. Every challenge I faced, and believe me there were plenty
because nothing, not a damn thing has come easy for this Irish boy! For
every challenge and every failure, I asked myself, would Conor give up?
Then I would hear your voice on that day, "One more time. Just once more!"
and I would find the courage to carry on. It was your strength and
determination that got us through the brutal moments, and the memory of it
that carried me when we were apart. Then I found you again, and you found
Brandon. I was instantly in love with your relationship and I knew you
belonged together, but all hell broke loose, and for the first time in my
life I saw your strength falter. The truth is... and don't you dare shake
your head because you know I'm right. The truth is that you poured so much
into caring for me that you didn't leave anything for yourself. I
couldn't... I was too weak to be there for you when you thought you'd lost
him, but I knew. I knew Brandon would find a way, and by God did he, just
look at you now!

And Brandon... I know, you think you're the lucky one, and that's the best
part. You don't have a clue how handsome and amazing you are. It's not just
those dimples, your square jaw, or that little curl in your hair. It's not
only your warm smile or the casual but confident way you carry
yourself. It's how you accept a person, not for who they are, but for who
they have the potential to be! It's the honesty and wisdom in your
words. It... it's how a single look from those gentle eyes can bring
comfort to a dying man, and how your relentless determination can give him
life again.

Separately, you're both incredible, but together... together, you're
unstoppable! So I say raise your pints! Raise your pints for two beautiful
stubborn men who gave the finger to the rules and the damn dating games,
the hushed whispers and crooked looks, and who taught us all that giving up
is not an option! Raise your pints and fight for love like it's your last
chance, because it bloody well may be!"

Although passionate, Sean's toast was perhaps a bit more personal than it
should have been, but our glasses were raised and clinked together in the
spirit in which it was given. His words had touched me, and I could tell
had done the same for Conor, and that was what mattered.

As we pulled the mugs from our lips, pipe music started again and Cillian
shouted out, "Show `um how it's done back home, Dub!" Conor was quick to
shake his head at the request for Irish dancing, but Sean started clapping
with the beat and soon everyone else followed his lead. My Love finally
gave in, then set his feet in the shape of an upside down T and looked at
me. I copied the stance and each consecutive move after, sucking beer when
I could so I wouldn't spill it. Conor held my gaze, nodding and repeating
the steps until I had the pattern down. Kevin, who I finally identified as
our piper, picked up the tempo and I did my best not to kick my Love or
trip myself. Soon Nancy pulled Jim out, then Sean, Luke, and Chloe
joined. Rachel, who somehow found a moment to take some paint off and put
some clothes on, hooked Cillian's arm and led him into the dance line. It
wasn't long before Tom, Sam and nearly everyone else was on the floor,
including my parents.  ________

The music and dancing had come to an end when Kevin announced his lungs
were about to explode. After seeing Rose off, Conor and I stood at the
front of the bar hugging and saying farewell to most of the guests who
would be leaving the next morning. It was a bittersweet moment and marked
the closing of another chapter in my life. Jim and my father stood at the
back of the bar, trying to solve the puzzle of our still-tied hands. I had
expressed my desire to preserve the cord as much as possible, which was
proving difficult. Our wrists had swollen in their bonds, further
tightening the knot that Jim had so expertly fashioned. After accepting
hugs from Sun and Moon, we were finally free to talk.

"Does it hurt, babe?"

"Aye, well it did but I can't feel my hand anymore, so..."

I decided enough was enough.

"Just cut it."

"Are you sure, B?"

"I nodded, unable to feel my own hand."

Tom ran up as Jim searched the bar for a knife. "I got you, bros. All you
need is some lube."

"Sex lube, seriously? It'll make it sticky."

"Nah, bro, it's hair conditioner. It'll work, just give me one minute."

I ignored the tugging and pulling and focused on my Love, noting the
concern in his eyes, but unsure if it stemmed from more than the
possibility of losing his hand. In less than a minute, Tom announced we
were free.

"All done guys, but it'll hurt like a bitch for..."

Suddenly my hand felt like I had shoved it into a cactus, with a thousand
pinpoints of pain racing up my arm. "Ouch, son of a...!"

Jim quickly came around the bar and shoved Sweet's key in my good
hand. "Quit yer cryin' boys, and load up!"

Once again feeling out of the loop, I stood for a second too long staring
at the key... and then was being physically escorted to the back door.

"Wait, where are we going?"

Jim answered and quickened his step. "To Cillian's afore it's too late!"

The lights went dim and I remembered where I was. I turned, ensured my
parents were following, then saw Rachel guiding Cillian, Nancy, and Chloe
as well. As we exited the building I caught site of the full moon beginning
to rise and knew Jim was right. The guests had held off their
transformation for as long as they could... but it was feeding time.
_______

With too many potential answers to too many potential questions, I focused
on the road in front of me. To my right sat the man I loved, and behind me,
my parents. At the last stoplight, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, then
looked in my rearview to see the General smile. I also noticed that he and
my mother were holding hands. Though I knew everything would make sense in
time, I simply didn't need it to at the moment. I had the only answer I
needed sitting next to me.

Sean and Luke pulled into Cillian's parking lot as we arrived. The two had
taken Rose home, and I was glad to see that Luke was driving. I had only
taken a few swigs off my pint before Sean took it, and Conor's, and
finished them off. Cillian unlocked the door of his restaurant, declaring
all food and drink was on the house, and we shuffled in.

Before anymore congratulations could be given, introductions could be made,
before celebrating my new life with my new husband, there was one thing I
had to do. I took my mother in my arms, and I wept. All of the excuses that
had kept me from her for so many years now seemed so hollow and
stupid. Whether or not the same reasoning applied to the General was of no
matter. I should have never let time pass without ensuring my mom knew I
loved her. There was no way I could go back, but I was damned sure not
going to carry my failures into the future.  __________

Candles were lit, soft music started, and "Lamb Stew!" was announced as our
meal. Conor and I were ordered to "Sit!" when we offered to help, then were
seated at a table along with my parents... of course with a pint for each
of us. Not knowing what had transpired recently, I made my best guess then
smiled at my Love.

"I presume you've met my parents already?"

Conor shifted his eyes slightly away from mine.

"I um... I talked to your dad on the phone, but we haven't officially met."

I turned to the man sitting across from me. I knew he was my father, yet
somehow not the same person I had known before. Sure he had aged, but it
appeared that more than time had changed him. He seemed softer now, a much
kinder, gentler version of the once hard General. The concept was difficult
to grasp but I fought to give it a chance. Given the wording he used at the
wedding, I had a good idea of his new title.

"Well, in that case, Conor, I would like you to meet Reverend Frank and
Aileen van Duren."

With a warm expression Conor stood and took my mother's hand, then softly
kissed it. It wasn't as much her acceptance of Conor's affections but my
mother's words that got my attention.

"A pleasure, ma'am."

"Just Aileen, please. Welcome to the family, Conor."

Conor took hold of my father's hand with a firm grip. I sensed a bit of
competition in the handshake and something in his narrowed green eyes that
almost looked like a dare. I watched the interaction carefully. It was
obvious that Conor had been listening when I told him of my past, and it
seemed he had taken the General's previous attitude towards me
personally. For his part, I saw a rare gleam in my father's eye, and the
hint of a smile on his face. It was a look reserved for very few
people... a look of respect.

Conor took his seat, then looked sheepishly at me.

"You probably have a few questions."

Though I really wasn't concerned about the "how" of it all at the moment, I
now understood the vibe I was getting from my Love. He had, after all, gone
behind my back and contacted my father, but apparently not just to invite
him to our wedding. I could have been angry about the call, but I was far
too impressed with the fact that Conor had the balls to do something I
should have done long ago.

"Well, let me see. You called my father after we talked the other day, most
likely to give him a piece of your mind. I'm guessing a few choice Irish
curses were involved?"

I didn't look to Conor for the answer, turning to my father instead, who
smiled and laughed.

"Bullseye, son. He tore me a new one, but it wasn't anything I didn't
deserve. You're doing good so far, go on."

Son... so now I was his son again? Torn between my head wanting to yell and
scream and my heart wanting to embrace the idea and my father, I did the
best I could do with the information I had.

"Okay, even though you found faith, you still respect strength, and liked
Conor from the start. You also discovered I was in Florida, which is where
you both must live now, probably not far away given the short window of
time everything happened in."

My father nodded. "Miramar, and yes, I liked Conor right off the bat. When
I finally managed to calm him down, I found out that you two were getting
married and I wanted to be a part of that. I missed out on so much of your
life because I was too damn narrow minded to appreciate our differences. I
wasn't about to let it happen again if I could help it. Then I got the call
about today's wedding and took the risk."

My Love swallowed hard. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I don't blame you if
you're upset with me, but... but I'll never have my father back, and I
thought maybe there was a chance that you... that we could...

I reached for Conor's hand and watched both my parents reach for his other
hand. I also saw a bit of the old General staring at me. It wasn't
difficult to recognize his look of disappointment, though it would have
been well deserved if I actually had been upset. Ignoring the pang of
hurtful memories, I turned my attention to the beautiful man who needed me
and made a decision to support his needs over my past hangups.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me, then inhaled the unmistakable
aroma of Cillian's Lamb Stew. Thankful for the distraction from the heavy
conversation, I turned to my father.

"Would the good Reverend mind blessing our meal tonight?"

Jim took up the table conversation with my father, his uncle, as they
caught up on things. Conor and I did our best not to laugh out loud
listening to Jim try to explain The House to a minister. I used the
opportunity to clear my mind and sort things through. The evening was
getting overly complicated, which wasn't at all what I wanted for my
wedding night. As much as I hated it, some things would need to be
addressed before the evening was over, but for now, food and stories were
welcome.  _________

After having my fill, I went to the Jacks to take care of business. I had
taken it easy on both stew and brew, declining numerous offers for more of
each. After all, there was a gorgeous man dressed to the nines and sporting
a new haircut who I couldn't wait to get alone! Sounds of laughter filled
the room as I made my way back to the table. I stopped, leaned against the
bar, and took it all in.

Cillian's tale of someone "Mad as a box of frogs!" had Rachel laughing so
hard she nearly fell out of her chair. The hand on his knee told me that
her interests were as much in the charismatic man as they were in the story
he told. The pairing wasn't surprising considering the one trait I knew
Rachel desired in a man was sincerity, and the restaurateur had that in
spades. Although Luke and Sean sat at the same table as the couple, they
were too deep into their own conversation and each other's eyes to be aware
of the story or anyone around them.

Jim, Nancy and Chloe sat at the table with Conor and my parents. A smile
reached my face when I realized how genuinely taken in my mom seemed to be
with my new husband. Neither of my parents had ever been antagonistic
toward same sex couples, but their level of acceptance was nonetheless
surprising and I was not yet convinced of my father's true feelings about
our relationship. After mugs were lifted for another toast, my father
glanced at me, then excused himself and walked in my direction, leaning an
elbow next to mine. I let out a sigh, knowing the time had finally come to
face the General.

"You look good, son."

"Thanks. You're looking fit yourself."

"Yoga, three times a week."

"Yoga?"

"I know, it probably seems crazy to think of your old man doing yoga,
but..."

I didn't raise my voice. I didn't even want to be having the conversation,
much less cause a scene, but it was time.

"Crazy? You show up on one of the most important days of my life, as a
minister in my wedding, my gay wedding, and you presume I would think yoga
is crazy?"

"If you'll just give me a chance, son, I..."

"Stop, just stop. You see that man over there? His father tied him up and
kicked him in the face, then made him watch as he beat his mother
unconscious then left them both for dead, and now he wants to give you a
chance to be his father. Do you have any idea what that means, any concept
of that kind of responsibility? I have no clue what event could have been
catastrophic enough for you to change so drastically, but the father I
knew..."

"Dying tends to change a person, son."

"What?"

"Two years ago, I woke up and went for my morning run like I always did. I
picked that trail because there was hardly ever anyone else around. When
the heart attack hit and I went down... I knew it was over. They say your
life flashes before your eyes, but I didn't think about my parents or my
childhood. Not a day of my thirty plus years of service even crossed my
mind. As I lay alone with my face in the rocks, absolutely sure it was my
last moment on earth, I thought of you. I thought of the terrible things I
said and the way I treated you like some boot camp recruit. My... my last
thought was that I would never get the chance to... to say I'm sorry.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up in the hospital and saw your mother's
face. All of the things I thought were so important in my life were
suddenly meaningless. Family... family is the only thing that matters to me
now, and I want to be a part of yours. I retired the title of General, and
tomorrow I'll be stripped of my new title because I performed a gay
wedding, but I don't care. The only titles that matter to me are husband
and father. I do still respect strength and courage, and apparently you
have more of both than I ever had. I'm proud to call you son, and Conor
too, if you'll have me."

Again my head and heart battled. I believed his story and I believed his
intentions were genuine. What I wasn't sure of was whether or not the old
General could be so easily dismissed. Amongst the din of conflicting voices
in my head, my Love's voice rang crystal clear, "Maybe you should give them
another chance. You know... belief in the good nature of people and
all... or is that only selective belief?"

I looked at the broken man standing next to me, the tears falling from his
face, and I knew what I had to do.

"Listen. I know Conor invited you here, but you shouldn't have come."

"Please, son..."

"Wait, let me finish. You shouldn't have come, but I'm glad you did. The
truth is that I want this to work. Conor has a good father in Jim, and I
somehow believe he can have one in you, too. I believe we both can. I won't
lie. It's not going to be easy. Convincing me is one thing, but gaining
Conor's trust... let's just say you have your work cut out for you."

"Yes, I can tell. The boy has spirit. Oh, he's not a boy, it's just
that..."

"I know, don't worry about it. There's a lot to take in for both of
us. I'll bet you never expected to officiate a gay wedding with glowing
naked people, and I certainly didn't expect you to be a minister. I don't
think you need to worry about losing your place in church either. Conor and
I haven't even finished the paperwork, and with his lapsed visa, I'm not
sure if we'll be able to anytime soon. None of that matters. Our wedding
may not have been legal, but that braid of hair was more binding to me than
any piece of paper."

"I see. Then I suppose you won't be interested in this?"

My father pulled an envelope from his inside pocket. I noted the official
seal as I looked at the documents inside.

"I may be a minister now, but I'm a minister with connections. It looks
like I'll be finding a new church after all, one that doesn't try to define
who can love who."

There was nothing left to do but wrap my arms around the man who once
turned a cold shoulder to me. With quivering lips and shaking hands, my
father whispered the words that I thought I would never hear...

"I'm sorry, son. I'm so, so sorry."

"I'm sorry too, dad."

When I finally regained my composure, I realized there were two more arms
wrapped around us. Unsure if he knew what I held or of its significance, I
pried my arm free and handed Conor the papers. I watched his face for a
moment, watched his eyes shift back and forth, then to my dad.

"That's... that's the President's signature! How in the world...!?"

The smile on my dad's face was priceless.

"I'll tell you if you tell me how you made glowing people appear and
disappear. What you're holding is a full pardon for your lapsed visa, and
the marriage documents needed to make the wedding legal. I suppose a
Presidential pardon was overkill, but it is really cool. You could have
gotten it done eventually but it would have taken months, and with the
political climate surrounding immigration, maybe even years."

I could hear the emotions building up in my Love's voice.

"Blankets... it was just paint and black blankets and friends."

"Well, it was impressive. Aileen and I happened to be playing Gin with the
Secretary and his wife when you called, and I may have put you on speaker
for a moment. Anyway, they were touched by your story and wanted to
help. Paint and blankets can do nothing on their own. It takes family and
friends, son... oomph!"

Very few sights would have given me as much pleasure. With a look caught
between disbelief and perfect delight, the silver haired man was lifted off
his feet by the "boy" who would be his son. It wasn't a hug often seen in
the military, except perhaps when a soldier, long on the battlefield,
finally returns home.  __________

Cheers and the sound of clinking glasses resounded from the tables. With
just a few strokes of the pen, our marriage was legal. It had only taken me
a few minutes of research after finding out that Conor had overstayed his
visa to know we were in trouble. We hadn't had a chance to talk it through,
but it was apparent that Conor had previously discovered what I had just
learned. At a minimum, Conor could reapply and receive an extension, but
had someone been having a bad day at the office, he could be deported and
not allowed to reenter the country for up to five years. Should that
happen, I would gladly have gone to Ireland, but there were legal catches
to that as well and I may not have been able to stay. Conor's attempt to
bring a family together had triggered an unlikely chain of positive events,
and the only explanation I had was... Love found a way.

After declining yet another pint from the bewildered barkeep, Cillian began
telling a story... a tale of a man who had bested even his own record for
downing pints of Gat with Jameson chasers while still managing to stay on
his feet. I buried my face in my hands, hoping beyond hope that he would
forget the part... of course he didn't.

"...but even after twelve pints o' black, he still had the wherewithal to
buy a meal for the man he pissed on. I tell you Brandon has Irish blood, or
my name ain't Cillian!"

Twelve? Had I really drank that much? I heard Rachel snort through her
laugh and vowed that the traitor would pay. Brothers, after all, knew the
dark secrets of their sisters, and Dimitri liked to tell stories too. A
conversation brewing between Conor and my mom made me lift my head.

"Aileen, is a popular name in Ireland. May I know your maiden name?"

"Yes, it's Carroll."

Conor paused and raised an eyebrow. I could see his gears turning so I
pulled up an email and stuck my phone in front of him before he could
respond. My inquisitive Love was well on his way to discovering something I
was saving for later and unintentionally spoiling my surprise. Though the
timing wasn't as I had planned, I was still rewarded with his wide eyes and
broad smile. The secret was only secret between us for a moment, but that
was enough. I slid the phone from his fingers and handed it to my mom who
studied it before her eyebrows crinkled in confusion at the question I
followed with.

"Did you even know you were Irish?"

Cillian caught on and yelled out, "Ha! I knew it!"

My mom shook her head and nearly started crying. Conor reached out a hand
for support as she explained.

"My parents died when I was very young. I never knew anything about my
past."

Conor spoke with a soft voice. "Irish names were often changed or shortened
when immigrants first came to America. Yours likely from "Carroll or
MacCarroll. Do you know where you were born?"

"My birth certificate says New York City, but my adoptive parents didn't
know anything beyond the fact that my parents died in a train accident."

Conor smiled. "Aye, well you're a first generation American then."

It was time for the second half of my surprise. I took Conor's hand.

"Seeing as I'm half Irish, and I've never even been to the Netherlands, I
would be honored to take your name. How does Brandon "Keefe sound to you?"

Cillian slammed another pint in front of me. "It's sounds bloody Irish to
me!" I watched Conor hold his emotions in check through the laughter that
followed, then picked up my pint of Gat and joined in the mirth. Out of
sheer boredom back in Arizona I had taken a DNA test and had only recently
received my results. The pie chart actually showed 62% Irish which meant
there had to be Irish ancestors on both sides. The kicker was a DNA match
of an aunt who still carried the "Carroll name. I decided that there would
be a better time and place to reveal to my mother that she had a sister.

As Jim started in on a tale of his own, Conor whispered in my ear that he
and Sean were going out to talk. We had done our share of crying already,
but as I watched the two head out the back door together, I had a feeling
there would be even more tears shed. Rachel leaned into my shoulder as she
listened intently to the storyteller. Not all of the glow paint had been
removed, with traces left in her hair, eyebrows, and lashes. The black
light from a fish aquarium a few feet away set a faint glow to the paint,
enhancing the woman's already enchanting features. I nearly yelled out when
I felt fingernails dig into my thigh, then noticed a slip of paper being
waived at me below the table.

With everyone still paying attention to Cillian, I took the paper from
Rachel's fingers, noting the rose color before reading the unmistakable
handwriting, "What are you still doing there, Brandon?" My chuckle went
unnoticed by all but Rachel who handed me another paper that read, "Take
Conor to the Studio." Rose was definitely reading my mind again. As much as
I loved the present company, it was time to go. I took the key from Rachel,
then got my mom's attention and leaned in to whisper that I loved
her. Apparently understanding my motive, she kissed my cheek and whispered
back, "Call me soon?" I nodded, squeezed her hand for reassurance, then
simply stood up and walked out the back door, meeting Conor and Sean who
were on their way back in. I put a hand on Sean's shoulder.

"Conor and I are leaving. Could you and Luke see that my parents get back
to their car?"

Sean smiled and nodded, then pulled me in for a hug. Conor started to go
back in but I grabbed his shirt sleeve and held him fast.

"But my jacket..."

"Leave it. If we stick around to say goodbye we'll be here until morning."

My love chuckled. "One day as an Irishman and you're already making an
Irish exit?"

"I don't know what that is, but if we don't leave now I'm stripping you
down right here."

A flash in his emerald eyes was followed by a grin... the grin that I would
ever be a willing slave to.

"Aye, well we better go then, husband."

A slight tinge of regret for leaving so abruptly washed over me as we
walked around the building and climbed into Sweets... then was whisked by
the cool ocean breeze on my face. The note had simply said, "Take Conor to
the Studio". Although I had no idea what to expect when I got there, I
wasn't in the habit of second guessing Rose's words.

It had been a whirlwind of a day. My brain and body were on the verge of
exhaustion, both threatening to give out. One look in my Love's eyes
cleared my hazy mind, and one look at the bulge in his pants...

I slid Sweets in gear... my hand between his legs, and...

_________

To be continued...