Date: Fri, 1 Aug 2003 20:16:18 -0700 From: Dewey Subject: Brian and Pete Chapter 19 Brian and Pete Chapter Nineteen Going Home Copyright Notice - Copyright (c)2000-2003 by DeweyWriter Ltd. This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors express written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply and will be enforced. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pete and I made love that night, taking our time. We had no reason to hurry so we made it last. Kerry was still on my mind though, but I tried not to let it interfere. Pete had to have noticed that I was distracted but thankfully he didn't say anything. I already felt bad enough about the whole episode without having to confess Kerry was breaking my concentration. Afterwards, we fell asleep in each other's arms. The feel of Pete's naked form wrapped around mine relaxed me so much that I fell asleep in no time and didn't wake up until late the next morning still in Pete's arms. One arm was thrown over my chest, and I could hear a light burr as he breathed. The clock said it was ten-thirty, but it felt much earlier. I was still tired, but I wouldn't have been able to get back to sleep even if I had tried. Instead, I watched Pete sleep. I don't know how many times I've watched him. Sometimes, when I woke up at night after one of my dreams, I'd sit at the computer desk and just watch him breathe. There's something about him that keeps me mesmerized. I never tired of taking in his features. It seemed like every time I watched him like that I found something new about him: some small flaw in his skin, or a whisker coming in, or the scars he'd gotten during his childhood. Even these defects made me love him that much more. How many people can say that they know every inch of their lover's body or the way they look when they sleep? Check-out time was noon, so at eleven, I woke him with a gentle kiss. He stretched out his arms and banged his hands painfully against the headboard. "Ow." "That had to have hurt," I commiserated. "It did," Pete agreed. "Morning, baby." "Morning," I said as I hugged him tightly, resting my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Pete lazily threw his arm onto my back. I sighed contentedly. "What?" He asked. "I'm just realizing how happy you make me." He pulled me up and kissed me. "It's eleven. We have to be out of here at noon." "Yeah, but we're staying in town. I made other arrangements for tonight," he said mysteriously. "Really?" "Yeah. There's this bed-and-breakfast on the outside of town. We'll stay there tonight." "Sounds nice," I commented. "We'll find out. They have a hot tub, too," Pete said with obvious relish. "Sweet." I stretched my body as hard as I could. "I could use it now, actually. I'm a little stiff." "Me too. Remind me to keep up on my running," Pete requested. "Will do, babe." Pete asked, "Did you sleep well?" "Yeah," I replied. "I didn't even wake up." "That's good to hear." Pete tapped me on the shoulder, and I rolled out of bed. "I'm still tired, though." "That's to be expected," he said as he got up and finished stretching. "You spent a lot of energy yesterday, both physically and emotionally." "Nah, not really." "Yes, really," Pete confirmed. "You had two runs, then played football and swam for ten minutes. Plus all the upheaval from Kerry and Allison..." "Can we please not go there?" I pleaded. "I'd just like to let it drop." "Okay, Bri. But if you want to talk about it, you can talk to me, all right?" "I know, Pete. It's just hard. I still have problems talking about things that really hurt, you know? I still bury them, but at least I recognize that now." "All I ask is that you do your best, lover." He kissed my forehead. "I'm trying." Pete hugged me tightly. "I know, baby." I started the water in the shower and climbed in as soon as it was warm enough. "Hey, Bri?" Pete called. "How about we go up the river this morning and check out a nature trail I saw last time I was here. It's nice, walking under the trees and along a creek. Beautiful, and not crowded." Pete climbed in beside me as I started lathering up. "Sounds fine to me. It's been a while since we've been walking in the woods. I miss it." "Me too." Pete sighed heavily and embraced my slippery body, resting his head against mine. "I love you, Brian." He pulled back just enough so I could see his eyes and the feelings he couldn't put into words. I just melted into him, and we stood there for a few minutes just enjoying the contact. Part of the guilt I carry is that I had withdrawn love from Pete for the months I was such a selfish prick after we got back together. I could never give that time back to him so I tried to make it up to Pete as much as I could, as often as I could. I needed the contact too, but I had fooled myself into thinking that if I was strong enough, I wouldn't need him. How wrong I was. Will convinced me of two things in the first sessions I had with him. First, I had something called touch deprivation. That meant I had an overwhelming need for human contact. Pete was so sweet, he gave me all the touching I craved. Second, Will showed me I was way too critical of myself, and needed to remember that. I also needed to learn to give myself a break once in a while. Not an easy thing to do, but with Pete's arms around me, everything seemed all right. Nothing was wrong in the world. I loved him for that. We finished our shower and dressed in t-shirts and shorts. We'd be back up-river for a while so it'd be warm. After checking out, we drove back up North Bank Road to Redwood Trail. Pete was right. The place was beautiful. Fir and alder trees competed for the sunlight, letting through a small patch of warmth here and there, illuminating the motes of dust floating around lazily in the early afternoon air. We were quiet as we walked, holding hands and absorbing the peace of the place, reveling in the fresh, clean air of the coast. The only sounds we heard besides an occasional passing car were the water burbling in the creek below and birds singing above. We walked for about forty-five minutes, taking our time and stopping at the many benches to take in the scenery. Pete had brought along a camera and took pictures of me in various places. I returned the favor, and hoped that they would turn out. As we were standing on a bridge that crossed the creek, an older couple met us going the opposite way. They were in their sixties and were walking arm in arm. Pete asked them to take a picture or two of us together, and they agreed. For the first picture, Pete just threw his arm over me like a friend would his buddy, but for the next two, he held me close as a boyfriend. The couple just smiled and took the pictures, wishing us a good day. As they walked away they stood a bit closer together than they had when we met. It made me smile to see that our love could affect people in a positive light and not just repulse them. Something that I'll always have with me from that day was the genuine warmth in their smiles when they realized Pete and I were more than friends. Not everyone in the world is bigoted and out to get us. When we made it back to the car, Pete drove us a short way further upstream to a bridge that crossed the river. A few cars and trucks were parked on the river bar. People were barbequing lunch, which reminded us we hadn't eaten since the night before. Pete turned the Malibu around and headed back to town, across the bridge into Harbor, and into the shopping center across from the pizza place. Walking through the grocery store, we found the deli and ordered sandwiches and some potato wedges. After picking up a six-pack of bottled water and some Sunny Delight, we got back into the car and headed down the road to the port. We passed the marina to the breakwater and parked, eating our lunch as we watched the breakers roll in. We talked a bit about the next day, when we'd leave, which way we'd go, where we'd stop. I suggested going down the 101 to Sonoma and staying in the wine country for the night. I know, neither of us really drank, but the scenery was just so beautiful and peaceful. I wanted as much peace and tranquility as I could get before going home. After we finished eating, Pete drove us back to the marina, where we stopped to explore the dockside shops that had sprung up there. There was a little espresso shop and a wind store that sold kites and windsocks among other things. A candy shop was right next door, but we both skipped that one. A tiny bookshop stood next door to that, and sold works by local authors and histories of the area. Everyone was very friendly and made us feel welcome. Sometime around three we drove back to town. Pete took a side street and pulled up in front of a two story Victorian house with natural wood siding and a porch that surrounded the front and sides, looking over the marina. Rose bushes grew in pots along the veranda rail, while rhododendrons lined the ground just below. A lawn off to the left looked meticulously groomed, with a fountain and a gazebo toward the back, away from the street. The other side was fenced in with a picket fence matching the house. "Where did you find this place, Pete?" I asked as I took in our surroundings. "I called Danny and asked him if he knew of a place where we could stop on the way down," Pete replied. "He gave me the address and phone number. It's just luck that it happened to be here. The owners know Danny from way back." We climbed the steps up to the entrance. I happened to look behind me. The ocean spread out before me like a green blanket, turning more blue as it approached the horizon. Small boats could be seen coming in and out of the harbor while gulls floated lazily on the breeze, occasionally diving toward the water. I leaned into Pete and almost fell over because he wasn't as close as I thought he was. We both laughed after I recovered my balance, but jumped as the door front door opened. The man who greeted us was somewhere in his late-thirties to mid-forties, wore a neatly trimmed moustache and goatee, with medium length wavy blond hair cut closer on the sides. He stood at six feet tall and about two-hundred pounds. With the Dockers and matching shirt, he looked pretty good for an older guy. "Welcome, gents! Right on time. Walk this way, if you please!" With a flourish and a bow, he gestured us inside. Pete stifled a giggle as we entered and faced our host. "Good afternoon. My name is James, your humble host, at your service." He grinned. "And who might you lads be?" This guy was a kick! "Hello," Pete responded. "I'm Pete and this is Brian, my boyfriend." My eyes just about popped out of their sockets as my head whipped around to stare at him. Pete just gave me an insufferable smirk. James smile widened, and he said, "Welcome, guys. It's nice to see two young people like yourselves enjoying each other's company. Oh, don't glare at him like that." Surprised, I faced James again. "We're all family here." He winked and walked toward the kitchen, motioning us to follow him. The inside of the house was as impressive as the outside. Not a drop of paint was to be seen on the walls. Natural wood tones muted the light in the house, making it seem warm and cozy. All the furniture was antique. To the right, a large formal living room took up the whole side. Antique armchairs, a couch, a large coffee table with a glass top, which protected twenty or thirty playbills from the San Francisco theaters, were placed around a fireplace, which stood empty. French doors led out to the patio. Directly in front of the main entrance stood an ebony grand piano. It was a beautiful instrument. Shelves behind it held both music and classic literature. Pictures from the nineteenth and early twentieth century decorated the walls, depicting various evens from the Civil War to the San Francisco earthquake. There were several chairs around the piano, as if waiting for an audience. To the right was the kitchen. It was a chef's dream. Copper cookware hung above the butchers block island in the center. White marbled granite counters held various cooking implements in jars and blocks. An industrial gas stove and matching oven fit neatly along one wall, flanked by a large stainless steel refrigerator. Cabinets hung above the counters, painted off-white to match the countertops. A closed door between the fridge and oven led to the rear of the house. Just down from the kitchen was an informal family room arrangement with comfortable recliners, a love seat, and a couch against the wall. A large television and awesome stereo system rounded out the room's contents. "What would you like to drink? Sodas? Water? Juice?" "Orange juice?" I asked tentatively. "Coming right up." He moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a large bag of oranges, setting them on the counter. "And you Pete?" "Sure. OJ sounds good to me." "You got it." James opened up a cupboard in the island and removed a huge contraption. He put it on the block and plugged it in. Next, he retrieved a low, squat pitcher and placed it under a spout. He turned on the machine and dropped an orange in a hole on the top. The orange fell into a strainer, where it was crushed. As the machine recycled itself, the pulp and peel was dropped out of sight and James dropped another orange into place. "Nothing beats fresh squeezed juice," he said. Pete and I nodded our agreement as we watched the metal beast work. "Pete tells me you're headed down to the Bay Area, huh?" "Yeah. I have to help my mother pack up the house for a move to Portland." He smiled as he dropped another orange. "Sounds like a great time. I had to do that once." "Lots of fun I bet." "Oh yeah, loads. I'd just come out to my parents, and my dad couldn't handle it. Mom and I moved out a week later, and she took everything with her." He gestured toward the front room. "The furniture is all antique from her family. She left it to me when she passed away. Everything in the front room is an antique, at least eighty years old. The piano is a Steinway, made in eighteen-seventy. The furniture in the front room dates from eighteen-sixty or so." "Wow. It must be worth a lot," Pete commented. "It is, but mom didn't want it to just sit in an attic gathering dust, so I put it in the front room where it gets used occasionally and can be admired. She also paid for this place for Alan and me before she passed on." "Your partner?" I asked. "Yep. He's at work right now, I don't expect him to be home until around eight." "What's he do?" "He's a doctor. He works in Crescent City, just across the border." "And you're an innkeeper by trade?" Pete asked. James laughed. "I am now! I used to be on the other side of the business, though. My job had me traveling eighty percent of the time, and Alan was working when I was home. It didn't work out for us, so we moved here. I got my dream house, and he gets to know his patients instead of cycling them through like an assembly line." "Sweet," Pete said. "So when did you meet Danny?" "Well, that's an embarrassing story actually, and more than a little personal." "Oh, sorry I asked." James laughed again. "It's okay. Let's just say Danny and I met at a club and had a good time together." I grinned. "I can't imagine Danny in a club." "Oh, he was quite the partier," James stated. "I remember several times we went to a club in San Francisco, and closed it down. Danny and I took a cab to my place afterward." James wagged his eyebrows. "He didn't go home until the next night." "Too much information," I said as I cracked up. "Doesn't sound like the Danny I know." James flipped off the juicer. "This was almost ten years ago. We haven't spoken in almost two years." Pete asked, "Why not?" James poured Pete a glass of juice and handed it to him. "Life. Alan and I moved up here, Danny was working down there. We just drifted apart." "A shame," I commented. "Yeah. I'll give him a call later. It's about time to say hi. Besides," James confided with a conspiratorial grin, "he owes me a case." James handed me my glass of orange gold. "Now, on to other concerns. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the rest of the house. You'll be our only guests, so the choice of rooms is yours." James led us through the entryway to the stairs in the back of the house. As we climbed the unusually steep stairs, James continued to point out the features of the old home. He led us into a room in the front of the house. It was a huge master bedroom, complete with four-poster, wardrobe, dresser, vanity and nightstands. At the other end was a large fireplace surrounded by a loveseat and two easy chairs on either end. A stereo sat in a niche to the side of the mantle. "If you would like to watch television, there is a family room just off the kitchen." James supplied. "The hot tub is through the door at the bottom of the stairs. The water is clean. Alan and I stay behind the kitchen in our private quarters. Other than that, you have the run of the house." "Dinner will be served promptly at seven. Until then, I bid you adieu." James backed out from the room, closing the double doors behind him with a slight bow. "Can you believe this, Bri?" Pete's face was shining as he took in the beauty of the room. "Look at this place! And it's ours until tomorrow." I smiled at him, then pulled him into an easy embrace, resting my head on his shoulder. We swayed slightly, enjoying the moment of solitude. A sigh of contentment escaped me. Pete's gaze captured my eyes. A devilish smile crossed his lips. "D' ya wanna?" "I wanna." ---ooo000ooo--- Dinner was a work of art. James had gone out of his way to make the meal spectacular. The large dining table was set with real china and silver. Candles cast a dim glow, and soft classical music wafted in from the family room. James had submerged himself the role of maetre d'h(tel, wearing a black and white waiter's uniform and faking a really bad French accent. When he spoke, Pete and I couldn't help but laugh. James prompted us to sit across from each other in the only two chairs remaining. Once we were seated, James presented us with a bottle of sparkling apple cider with a grin. Pete returned the grin and nodded his acceptance . James pulled the cork and proceeded to pour us each a glass. As he poured, it suddenly hit me how much this must be costing Pete. In spite of myself, I began to worry. His duties performed for the moment, James bowed slightly and left for the kitchen, leaving us alone. "Pete..." "I know what you're going to say, Bri," Pete said with a hand raised to forestall my objections. "I want to do this for you. I haven't been able to before, so I'm doing it now. You don't realize how much you mean to me, baby. I've tried to explain it, but you just don't get it. I'm trying to show you." "But the cost..." I interjected. Pete took my hand and completed my statement, "... is irrelevant. I don't have enough money to give you what you're worth to me. Let me do this, Brian. I've been saving up just for this. Please?" What could I say to that? I squeezed his hand and smiled. Pete's smile widened as he sensed my acceptance. He stared into my eyes from across the table, and I returned his gaze. It was something I never tired of, looking into his eyes. Every time I did, I felt as if I was communing with his soul, the center of his being. I could get lost in his eyes. "I love you, Bri," he whispered softly. "And I love you, Pete. Always," I said just as softly. A rattle from the kitchen announced James return, and the dinner began. James presented us with a five course meal: French bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, a rich baked potato soup, chef's salad, and for the main course, filet mignon that melted in my mouth. The portions seemed a little small compared to what I was used to, but after the main dish, my ravenous hunger had been well sated. Dessert was plain old vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce, but it fit the mood perfectly. The whole time we were eating, James stood by catering to our every need. He refilled our glasses, took our plates when we were done, and left the room between courses so Pete and I could speak privately for a few moments. At the end, I was surprised to find the dinner had taken almost two-and-a-half hours. The time had flown by. James made his exit, saying, "Gentlemen, your chambers await you. Good evening." Pete stood up and gestured for me to do the same. I took his hand and he led me up the stairs to our room. Through the open doors I saw lit candles just about everywhere they could be placed. As we passed the threshold into the room, I saw a small fire in the fireplace. Near the bed was a champagne bucket with a bottle of Dom Perignon! I couldn't believe it As I took all this in, Pete hugged me from behind, kissing my neck. I turned and wrapped my arms around his chest. "I really, really love you, Brian," Pete said in a voice thick with emotion. He wore an uncertain expression and tears were forming in his eyes. "It scares me sometimes that you can't understand how much you mean to me. I'm afraid you'll suddenly decide that this has all been a big mistake and leave. Brian, if you did that to me..." I placed a finger on his lips to silence him. "That will never happen, Pete. Never. I do know how much you mean to me, and if that's any indication, then I know how much I must mean to you. "I'm done running away, Pete," I whispered. "There's nothing to run from anymore. My nightmares aren't coming as often. I'm more relaxed. I'm not as paranoid as I once was, and it's all because of you. Chris may have saved my life last year when I was being stupid, but you saved my soul. Do you understand that? You saved my soul. Now my soul is a part of you, as yours is a part of me. You keep saying, we are together, and I know that right now more than ever." I raised up and kissed him on the lips. Pete's expression had changed from uncertainty to one of joy. ---ooo000ooo--- The first thing I was aware of the following morning was an unwelcome pounding in my head. Pete was wrapped around me, his naked body pressed to mine. Memories of the night before flooded my mind, causing the pounding to abate somewhat. I tried to settle back in, but it wasn't going to happen. Nature had given its urgent call, and I had to obey, either there in bed, or in the bathroom. I chose the bathroom and gently tried to remove myself from Pete's clutches. Once upright, my head started pounding again. Glancing around, I noticed a pitcher of water and a bottle of acetaminophen on the side table. I ripped open the bottle in a flash and swallowed three or four of the pills, washing them down with water from the pitcher. This did nothing to assuage the call of nature, so I had to beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom down the hall. I didn't bother pulling on my shorts because I really didn't think I had the time to spare. I made it to the toilet just seconds before disaster would have struck. As my body relieved itself, I looked out at the new morning. The sun wasn't quite up over the coastal hills. Dew covered the lawn below. It seemed the perfect morning for a run. I finished my business and returned to our room. Pete hadn't moved a muscle in the short time I'd been in the bathroom and showed no signs of waking. My running shorts were packed on top of my suitcase so I pulled them on and decided to forego the usual t- shirt. Socks and shoes were quickly added to my skimpy ensemble. I grinned to myself as I walked downstairs, knowing the effect my attire would have on my boyfriend when he finally did wake up. On the way out, I was surprised to see a man who could only be Alan sitting in the kitchen. He looked up immediately when he noticed my presence. I swear he just about dropped his coffee cup when his eyes first fell on me. I decided it was polite to say hello, and walked into the kitchen. The man appeared extremely nervous as I approached. Maybe my lack of dress had affected him as well? "Good morning," I said by of greeting. "I'm Brian." "Alan," he said in a strangled voice. "I kinda guessed you were." Alan was turning a furious shade of red. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. "Are you okay?" I queried. "Oh, for Heaven's sake Alan," James chided, "pick up your jaw. Someone might trip over it." Alan came his senses immediately, but it took him a while longer to regain his composure. "You'll have to forgive my husband, Brian. He has this thing for staring at beautiful men, and with that body, you're beyond beautiful, sweetheart." It was my turn to blush. I watched James move around the kitchen while observing Alan out of the side of my eye. He was a good-looking guy in his own right, but he was still staring at me. James questioned, "Are you off for a run, Brian?" "Yeah. I should be back in about an hour, maybe longer. Depends on how my legs feel. What time is it, anyway?" Alan finally cleared his throat as he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Six. If you were a few years older..." James cleared his throat meaningfully, but it didn't deter Alan. "What? I can look!" "You best not touch!" James said, shaking a spoon under Alan's nose. "I won't. I have what I want, hon," Alan said in a saccharine-sweet tone. James stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend and continued his work in the kitchen. "Well, I better get going. I'll see you in a bit." "Have fun, Brian," Alan called as I departed. Once outside I realized that the morning was colder than it had looked from inside, but rather than return upstairs for a shirt I took off down the street to get warmed up. Taking random turns, I found myself at the local school complex. The high school, middle school, and elementary schools were right next to each other, with a field in between them. Over by the football field I spied a track. Rather than run all over town, I went to the track and settled in for a long run. I let my mind blank out as I jogged around the football field, ignoring everything around me. A full stride came easily as I just let my legs carry me along. A short while later, another person showed up at the track and stretched out before beginning to jog about half a lap behind me. It took me five more laps to catch up to the man, and when I did, he matched me stride for stride. It scared me a bit, as the old paranoia kicked in. "It's better to run with a partner, don't you think," the man said, breathing hard. "It can be," I replied, "but I came out to run and think, so if you'll excuse me..." I accelerated into a sprint, leaving the man in my wake. I continued gaining ground on him until we were separated by about fifty meters, then settled back into my normal eighty percent effort pace. The guy could have been harmless, but I didn't want to take the chance. I continued running for another three laps until the man finally gave up the chase and left. After he drove off, I started back for the Bed and Breakfast. I really had no idea how long I had been gone; at least an hour as the sun was now over the hills. I retraced my route back to the house. When I entered, I could smell breakfast cooking. I walked into the kitchen and noticed it was nearly eight. James was working in the kitchen and Alan sat in the family room reading the morning paper. Both looked up as I walked in. "Could I get a glass of orange juice?" As I spoke, I surreptitiously flexed my muscles, just to see their reaction. James wagged his finger and said, "No teasing, you dirty little boy." Alan laughed out loud as I grinned acknowledgement that I'd been found out. James opened one of the industrial refrigerators and pulled out a huge pitcher of juice and placed it on the island. He then got me a large glass and handed it to me. "Help yourself." "Hey Brian?" Alan said, "How did you get so buff at your age? How long have you been lifting?" "Three years, I guess. I started lifting when I was twelve, and I worked really hard at it. Running too." "Do you play sports?" "Yeah. Football, wrestling, track. I'm not sure I want to stay with football and track though," I mentioned. "Takes too much time away from Pete." My hosts nodded sagely. "Yes, that can be a problem." James said. "I told you how we came to be here, so we can both understand your position." "What got you interested in working out in the first place? Most kids don't get into it until high school." "Um, I guess you could say I..." "My birth mother took me away from him four days after we figured things out." Pete came into the kitchen and all but leered at my body. His eyes filled with a combination of compassion and lust as he continued, "Brian's parents knew I was leaving and didn't tell him. When the dust settled, he was living with a good friend who taught him how to work out." "Yeah," I took over the explanation, "and I took it to an extreme. I traded the physical exhaustion for the emotional pain that I buried inside. I came close to dying toward the end of my freshman year." Alan whistled in amazement. "What happened? You said you're a wrestler? Did you starve yourself?" I sheepishly confessed, "Yeah, and my potassium level was way high from all the bananas I was eating. The doctors said three more days would have done it." "I bet there was more to it than that, Brian." Alan conjectured. "Yeah, but I didn't remember what it was. I just remember what happened after: the nutrition classes and the weekly blood tests, the lectures from my foster mom and foster brother. They saved my life." "You're a lucky guy, Brian." Alan said, "a lot of young people die from eating disorders like yours. Do you have a handle on it now?" "Alan, leave the poor boy alone, okay?" James demanded tartly. "He's on vacation!" "No, it's okay," I placated. "Yes, I know what I did wrong, and I have people looking out for me. Wrestling is going to be interesting this year with all these people watching my plate like a hawk." "Brian, go get cleaned up," James commanded. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes. Pete smirked and said, "I'll help you." As we left the kitchen, James called out, "Twenty minutes, ya' hear?" We giggled to ourselves, and I yelled back, "Yeah, we hear!" Pete and I showered together, and amazingly, we were at the table by the time James wanted to serve us. James and Alan took their own places at the table as well. "Do you have to work today, Al?" James asked his partner. "Not today. I'm off until Sunday. I have three day shifts, then four off," Alan explained. "Of course. I remember you telling me that. Sorry, hon," James apologized. "It's okay," Alan affirmed. "So," James said, "Where are you two off to today? You heading out of town?" "I'm afraid so. We need to get back to the Bay Area today so we can start packing tomorrow," I replied. "Ah, that's a shame." James said. "Yeah, but we'll have some time to play while we're down there, too," I added. "We have friends down there, and people we want to see. We'll have time." James and Alan agreed. The breakfast conversation turned to everyday topics, and before I knew it, it was time to hit the road. Pete and I thanked both men effusively, and said we might be back the following summer depending on how things went. We said goodbye to Brookings and entered California. Pete said it was a seven-hour drive if we went straight through, but there were some places he wanted to stop along the way. I had no objections at all as I was just happy to be with him. We paused in our travels at various tourist spots as we drove south along U.S. Highway 101. The first place we stopped, The Trees of Mystery, had two giant figures out front: one was a fifty-foot-tall statue of Paul Bunyan complete with chest hair, and the other was a thirty-five-foot-tall sculpture of Paul's blue ox, Babe. The lifelike form of Babe exemplified the term "blue-balls," if you know what I mean. The statue of Paul waved at us as we walked in, and a man said something over a speaker which we couldn't really make out, but it was kind of funny. Pete took a picture of me on top of the six-foot high boot that shod Paul's right foot, and I in turn took one of him standing underneath Babe's blue family jewels. Neither of us could keep a straight face the entire time we were there. The redwood trees surrounding the area were huge! There was a tour available, but we didn't take it because it was too time consuming. Instead we walked through the End of the Trail Museum. There were a lot of artifacts there from the Klamath tribe of American Indians whose reservation was nearby. A lot of the gifts in the gift shop were made of either redwood or myrtlewood. You could even buy a live redwood to take home. Knowing my talent with plants it would have been dead within a week, so I passed. >From there we continued south along US101 through the coastal hills down to Eureka. We stopped briefly at the mall on the south end of town to find something to eat but found nothing but sloppy grease burgers, so we went to the grocery store next door. There we loaded up on fruit and other healthy stuff we both craved and got a deli sandwich to round things off. A gallon of orange juice completed our shopping adventure and we were off again. We continued down the highway, following it inland into the coastal range. Trees covered the hills and made everything look green and beautiful. Pete concentrated on his driving but spared a hand for me to hold. I watched him as we traveled, trying not to stare at him and make him self-conscious. It never failed to amaze me how beautiful my boyfriend was. It also never failed to amaze me that he was still with me. We had talked over and over again about that very subject, with him reaffirming his desire to keep me, and it was finally penetrating through the armor in which I had encased my heart. I was so relaxed driving with my boyfriend and holding his hand that I fell asleep for a while. When Pete woke me, we were just coming into Ukiah. I was hungry, but I was anxious to get home, too. We stopped for gas and dug through our supplies for something to munch on, then kept on trucking down US101 toward San Francisco. We arrived at my house about seven-thirty. Mom and Dawn were home, packing up the kitchen and the living room. Grampa was out with a friend, which surprised me. When Pete walked in the door, my mom hugged him after a brief hesitation and kissed him on the cheek, then I got the obligatory hug and kiss from my mom and a reluctant hug from my sister. When Pete said hello to Dawn, she visibly shied away from him. We sat down to dinner shortly thereafter. "How has your trip been so far?" My mom asked. "It's been memorable, to say the least," Pete replied cryptically. "Oh, really? What happened?" Pete looked at me and I just glared back. I really didn't want him telling about the confrontation we'd had with Kerry's uncle, or anything else for that matter. Pete smiled that dazzling smile, and my irritation went out the window. I lost the glare and nodded for him to answer. The byplay did not go unnoticed by my mom. "Okay boys, what happened?" "We... had a problem on the way down." Pete said. "Oh? Why didn't you call your father or me?" "We handled it on our own, mom," I said. "There wasn't any reason to call. We met these girls up in Brookings. They kind of followed me back to our tent after a run." I filled mom in on the events leading up to Kerry getting slapped and us taking her into town to see the police. I conveniently left out the emotional upheaval that accompanied what had happened. Pete squeezed my leg in sympathy as I spoke. I knew he understood what I was feeling. "Why did the girls follow you?" Dawn asked in her characteristically blunt manner. "You're gay." Mom raised her voice. "Dawn, I warned you..." "No, mom, it's okay. Dawn, I tried to explain this last time I saw you, but you must not remember. Just because I love Pete doesn't mean I can't look at a girl and think they're pretty, and it doesn't mean they can't look at me and think I'm good-looking." "But you're gay!" "Dawn...," mom said again in a warning tone. "Mom, we're going to have this conversation, either now or later. Since it's started, we might as well finish it." She pondered my words as she stared at me. She nodded slowly and sighed. I took a chance. "You don't understand any better than she does, do you mom?" I queried. Her eyes turned cold and angry, then lost their frosty gaze. "No, Brian. I don't understand. I don't understand how a man can want to be with another man... in that way," my mother said with slight distaste. "I don't understand how you can love another boy and not love girls. That doesn't mean that I don't accept what you two have together, nor does it mean that I want to separate you two. It simply means I don't understand." Pete and I nodded as one. I understood exactly where she was coming from because there were times when I wondered the same things. "Mrs. Kellam," Pete started. "Lisa or mom, Pete. You are part of the family after all." "Lisa, how did you know you were attracted to Ben?" Pete asked with some curiosity. "Oh, I don't know. I liked the way he looked, his smile, the feeling I got when he held me...." Mom looked pointedly at Dawn who watched on with interest. "What? Oh, come on!" Dawn protested. "I'm twelve! Why can't I listen? I know all about sex and everything." Mom continued to stare at Dawn, who looked like she had given more information than she wanted. My mother asked Dawn, "Are you having sex?" "MOOoooomM!" "Don't lie to me if you are, honey," mom pleaded. "You can get really sick if you aren't protected." "I'm not having sex!" "Have you ever?" Dawn remained curiously quiet and dropped her eyes to her plate. "Dawn?" Mom asked again. "Not in front of Brian, please?" "Okay, but we will talk about this after dinner. Now how did we get here?" Pete cleared his throat and said, "I asked you how you knew you were attracted to Ben. Was it a conscious thing? Did you decide to be attracted to him, or did it just happen?" "It just happened, I suppose." "Let me ask you another question. How did you know you liked boys?" Mom frowned, but answered his question anyway. "One day I woke up and was really interested in boys, I guess." "That's exactly what happened to me," Pete said. "I woke up one day and realized I was interested in boys beyond a normal friendship. It just happened." "What about you, Brian?" Mom asked. "I guess it took me longer to realize it," I said "When Pete told me, I knew I loved him too." My mom pressed on. "When did you realize you were gay?" "I think I realized it fully when I was living with Chris. Some things that happened there made me realize that I am the way I am and I can't change it." "You had sex with Chris?" Dawn asked eagerly. "That's it," Mom said as she slapped the table. "Off to your room young lady!" "But I'm not done eating!" "Then take your plate with you." Pete and I were silent as Dawn gathered her things and stomped off to her room. My mother watched her go, annoyance and embarrassment plain on her face. When Dawn shut her door, I said, "I would have answered her." "She's prying into things that are none of her business," my mom said absently. "She's just curious, mom. I was too. Still am." Mom replied, "It's different with you." "How?" I asked. "Because I'm a boy? Because I'm older?" "No," mom corrected, "Because you are in what I hope is a committed relationship. You two need to be able to discuss... what you do alone together freely so we can help with any... issues that may come up." "Mom, I really don't think you want to know the details of our sex life." "You're right," she confirmed crisply, "I don't. But I want you, and you, Pete, to know that I'm here if you need help or anything else." "Thanks, Lisa. That means a lot to me. To both of us," Pete said quietly. I cleared my throat. "To answer the question Dawn asked: no, I didn't have sex with Chris. I won't say it wasn't tempting, though. I spent a lot of time and effort to keep a safe distance between us." I swallowed hard. "I hurt him. Badly. It wasn't until I went up to Portland for good that we understood what was happening." Pete put his arm around my shoulders. "It's over, Brian," Pete said quietly. "You and Chris are still friends." "Maybe. It hurt me a lot to walk away last time, Pete. I haven't talked to him since February. I couldn't. I'm still trying to understand everything." "Well, we'll go up and see him tomorrow and find out. I don't think he'd turn his back on you, Brian." "Maybe." I changed the subject. "Where's Grampa?" "He's having dinner with a lady friend." Mom said coyly. "Really?" I asked with some shock. "How long has he known her?" "Oh, three months or so," mom replied. "They've been dating for the last two months. It's so cute to see your grandfather excited about seeing her. He's like a new man." "Where did they meet?" "You'll have to ask him, Brian," she said with a smile. "I'm not going to gossip." "I will then. This I gotta see!" We finished up dinner and helped mom load the dishwasher. Mom talked about how happy she was to finally go to Portland after all this time. Dawn was set free from her banishment and had glares for everyone. I just let her be after I gave her a one-word answer to the question that caused her to be sequestered. After supper had been cleared away, Pete and I retreated to the room we'd share for the time we were here. We'd be sleeping on an air mattress since my bed was a twin and had been dismantled during a previous visit. Claiming to be tired from the drive, Pete and I retired early and lay in each other's arms for an hour or so, talking of small things. Pete did surprise me with one request though. "Bri, will you go with me back up to my old house? I want to see it. Maybe get some closure." "Of course I'll go, if that's what you want to do. I think... I have some things I need to deal with, too." "Thanks, baby. I really appreciate it." "When do you want to go?" I asked. "Whenever," Pete said tiredly "I want to get it over with though." "How about early tomorrow morning after our run?" "Our run?" "Yes," I said poking him in the ribs, "our run. You're getting fat, remember?" "Yeah yeah... but then there would be more of me to love you." "True... but I'd prefer to be able to get my arms around you." "I think we can manage that." Pete kissed me gently on the lips then pulled me closer to him. We fell asleep content just to be near each other. ---ooo000ooo--- After our run the next morning, Pete and I shared the shower to conserve hot water. We didn't play too much and we both climbed out of the shower ready to face the day. When we hit the kitchen it was eight o'clock. Grampa was sitting in the dining room looking all spiffed up, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. "Hi gramps!" I said as I came up behind him. "Well, Brian!" He pulled me to him in a semblance of a hug. "I knew you were coming but I thought it wasn't for a while yet." "Well here we are. You remember Pete, don't you?" I bit my lip because I really didn't know how my grandfather would react to facing my boyfriend. My worst fear was a hostile reaction and outright rejection. Grampa turned in his chair to look at Pete, who wore a shy smile. My grandfather then backed the chair out completely and stood up to confront Pete. I held my breath. Grandpa stood three inches shorter than Pete, so he had to look up at him through his narrowed, penetrating eyes. Pete stood up to the scrutiny well. "Yes, I remember him. How are you, Pete?" My grandfather asked offering his hand. "Just fine, sir," Pete replied as he grasped it firmly. "So who's this lady friend of yours, Gramps?" I asked boldly. "Oh, heard about that, did you? Well, her name is Evelyn. I met her down at the senior center playing cards." He told us all about his new friend, and that he was thinking of staying in California to be near her. That was news to my mom apparently, because she grilled gramps on his decision. By the time Pete and I had eaten our breakfasts, mom was sitting across from him with no sign of the inquisition slacking off. Pete and I told them goodbye and walked out the door to head up to Pete's old place. We drove out to the road leading up to where he used to live. When he drove past the driveway, I asked him how he was handling things. "I'm doing okay, I guess. It's harder than I expected to come back here." "We don't have to go there, you know." "No, I want to see it again. I need to see it again." We pulled off the road into an intersection with an old service road we used to ride our dirt bikes on. I watched Pete as he stared at the steering wheel. I could almost tell what was going through his mind. "There's nothing to be afraid of, babe," I said softly. They can't hurt you any more." "I know. It's just...." Pete continued, frustration clear in his voice. "So much happened there. My dad rejected me. He would have killed you if you hadn't slipped out of your jacket." "You have a family that loves you, and I love you too.. I'm still here, Pete. You don't need to do this if you don't want to. Maybe we should put it off until later?" "Maybe. Wanna go for a walk in the old stomping grounds?" Pete asked with a slight smile. "Sure. It'll be interesting to see how much things have grown up." We got out of the car and locked it up. Pete walked around the trunk and took my hand as we made our way down the dirt road leading off into the hills. The road led a winding path upward over a rise and then into a valley below. The area had been logged at one time and replanted. The trees growing there were young, only twenty or thirty years old. Birds flew in the air, some flitting from tree to tree and others high above were hunting for their morning meal. The vista before us soothed our nerves and helped to relax us. By the time we'd walked a mile, Pete was much calmer than he had been at the car. Somewhere along the side of the road I spied a large stump nearly overgrown with brush and weeds. I pulled Pete along with me and sat down on the stump, pulling him into my lap. Wrapping my arms around him, I kissed his chin because that was all I could reach as he looked down on me. I pulled him tightly against me, savoring his scent as I buried my face into his chest. "What was that for, Bri?" Pete asked, slightly amused. "Just because," I replied, my voice muffled by his shirt. "I haven't hugged you in...what? Two hours?" "Oh, okay." As we sat there, Pete examined our surroundings. The place had grown up with scrub since we had last been here together almost four years ago. Then we had been wearing helmets and zooming around on motorcycles. We had fun in those days before our world had shattered. I hugged him tightly as old pain flared up, but it was quickly dowsed by the feeling of my love in my arms. We were together now, and nothing was going to separate us. After spending some time communing with nature, we got up and continued on our way. Swinging our hands like little children, we followed the road to the landing where heavy equipment had been used long ago. Pete and I dug around for a little bit, looking for odds and ends that might be of interest. "Brian, come here and look at this!" Pete called. "What?" I asked as I scrambled over some debris to get to where Pete stood pointing. "There. Right below that cable. See it?" I followed his finger and saw a faded purple plastic squirt gun we had lost in the spring of our seventh grade year, just three months before Pete was taken away from me. "We spent hours looking for that!" Pete said, becoming immersed in the memory. "We were late to dinner because of it, and had to walk the bikes most of the way home because it got dark on us. Dad had to come out and find us. Remember?" "Yeah. We almost had to go to bed without eating, he was so pissed." Pete's smile faded a bit at the reminder of the good times he had with his family and how devastated he still was by the events that changed both our lives. I put my arm around his waist and sidled up next to him. He put his arm around my shoulders and sighed. "I didn't think it would bother me this much, Bri," Pete said with a slight shudder. "It's okay, babe. It's kind of weird for me, too. This is the first time I've been here since everything happened. But that's all in the past. We're together again, no one can change it. Not even your mom or dad." Tears filled his eyes. "It still hurts, Bri. It hurts a lot. God, I thought I was over this." I turned us to face each other and tried to climb into his body because I couldn't get close enough to him to show him how much I loved him. He squeezed back just as hard as I was squeezing him. A moment later, he was softly crying with his head against mine, his tears soaking my shoulder in the morning sun. ---ooo000ooo--- Once back in the car, Pete and I drove back to town to get some lunch. Very little was said on the drive as we were both lost in our thoughts. We stopped at a sandwich shop and ate in the car. Pete seemed to cheer up a bit as he ate. What Pete's parents had done to him was foremost on my mind. Anger bubbled just beneath the surface. I knew I didn't hide it well because Pete kept giving me these long, thoughtful looks. When he had finished his sandwich and put the wrappers back in the bag, he faced me. "All right. Spill it." "Huh?" Pete said, "I know something's bothering you. You've been wearing that scowl ever since we got in the car." After a moment's pause I replied, "I hate them." Pete confusedly asked, "Who?" "Your parents." "Brian, don't." Pete said. "It's not worth the energy to hate them. They're out of my life forever, and I have you. That's all I could ask for." "I can't help it, Pete," I stated. "They did some awful things to you, and I can't forgive them for that." "They did some pretty bad things to you too, Brian," Pete answered quietly. "They didn't abuse me!" I responded with some heat. "No?" Pete asked calmly. "What would have happened if my dad had caught you that night? He wasn't going to hug and kiss you. Look, Brian," he said as he saw my stubborn streak come out, "like you said, it's in the past, over and done with. They can't hurt us any more. Please let it go." "I'll try," I said, not fully convinced I could. "Thank you, Bri," Pete said with a smile that lifted my heart. My doubts faded a bit. We headed back to the house after lunch to help mom and Dawn do some packing. Between the four of us, we got far more done than I thought we would. It seemed like it would only take another two days or so to finish up, and we'd planned for a week. More time to spend with Chris and Kathlene. I couldn't wait to see them. It had been almost four months since I'd last seen Chris. My grandmother had just died at that time. Chris had his new friends over for dinner to meet Pete and me. Tony and I hit it off really well, but Pedro seemed to think I was trying to replace him in Chris' life. Mac was friendly but reserved. The real drama came when I almost got in a fistfight with one of the group. After we'd been separated, Kathlene put us all at the dining room table to talk it out. It took a while to figure out that we all wanted the same thing: we all wanted to be a part of Chris' and Kathlene's family. In the end, a truce was called, but I was curious to see how things had come out with Chris and his brothers. We would find out soon. Dawn was spending nights at friends' houses as the reality of the move finally hit home for her. She had told us that she wouldn't be spending much time at home until the day they left for Portland. Mom had allowed her to spend time with her friends as a concession, and I didn't really care. Pete and I went out to dinner that night. We wanted to take BART into San Francisco and eat at a little mom and pop Italian shop called The Sausage Factory in the Castro. Mom didn't want us to go to the Castro District at all, telling us that it was full of predators just waiting to get their hands on us. I stared at her until she realized what she had said. Pete kept a firm hand on my shoulder as I battled with the anger her words had evoked. She apologized abashedly and sincerely, saying it was the old prejudices talking before she could think. I led Pete out of the house with a terse goodbye. I was fuming the entire way to the BART station. Pete calmed me with a few words and a gentle kiss, convincing me that mom really hadn't meant what she said. I wasn't sure, but I felt somewhat mollified. As we walked from the BART station to the restaurant I was shocked to see gay couples holding hands and kissing in the streets, even though I knew the place was in the Castro District. I'd never been in such a permissive area before. After a short while, I took Pete's hand and smiled, enjoying the freedom the atmosphere provided. The place wasn't too crowded at the time we were seated, but it filled quickly after we placed our order. The food was excellent and in good portions. By the time we were done eating, we were both over-full. Pete paid the check and we walked out into the balmy summer night. We took our time walking back to the station, taking in as much of the Castro as we could. Just how many blatantly appraising looks we got as we walked along amazed me. Every time someone was watching us Pete would put his arm around me and kiss me. Not that I minded really, and it didn't seem to bother some of the guys checking us out either. We saw a few couples our age wandering about here and there. It was cool to see them walking arm in arm without worrying. We made it back home about ten that night. Mom was still up packing. When we walked in the door, mom again apologized. I accepted and gave her a hug, then Pete and I went to my bedroom. "Bri, your mom didn't mean anything," Pete said as he took off his shoes. "She's scared for you." "I know she is, but the way she made it sound... she could have been talking about us in five years!" I commented as I took off my shirt and laid it over a box. "Brian, you know that's not true. For one thing, we don't want to be with anyone else, right?" "Yeah, I guess," I said wearily. Pete arched an eyebrow. "You guess?" He asked as he advanced on me. "Pete..." "You guess?" He repeated with an evil grin. "...don't do anything you'll regret here," I replied with a small grin as I backed away from him. He stood up straight and gave me a strange look. "How could I possibly regret loving you?" All my old insecurities flared up as I remembered all I had put him through over the time we'd been back together. "Bri," Pete said, "Don't go there. It's over and done. I have you, and that's all that matters to me." "How did you know what I was thinking," I asked curiously as the wave of angst passed. "I could see it in your face. Please don't, Bri." "I won't," I said. "It was a knee jerk reaction, I guess." Pete sighed slightly and pursed his lips to one side as he approached and embraced me. He knew me too well. "I wish I could take those memories away from you," he said. "I don't. Without them I wouldn't know how lucky I am to have you." Pete lifted my chin with a finger and kissed me soundly on the lips. We continued to disrobe, maintaining the kiss whenever possible. I lay down on the mattress and pulled Pete on top of me, wrapping my arms and legs around his body to get as close to him as I could. His arms found their way to my sides and squeezed me tightly. "I love you, Pete." He replied with a smile and kissed me again. The night passed unnoticed as we lay together and let our passion consume us. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Visit my website: http://deweywriter.com The newest chapters are posted there well ahead of anything posted on Nifty, and there are some features there that aren't available on Nifty such as "Brian's Destruction." Ever wonder what REALLY happened during the time Brian spent with Chris and Kathlene? Find out at Deweywriter.com!