My Brother’s Son

 by: Hankster

© 2009 by the Author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

When his son was fifteen years old, my widower brother suspected that his only child had been exhibiting every sign that he might be gay.  Rather than beat around the bush, my brother Bob confronted his son, Richie.  At first Richie acted appalled.  He denied the accusation, and he ran out of the room.  Only moments later, he returned in tears and admitted that he was indeed homosexual.

“Have you acted on your sexual preference?” Bob demanded to know.  Richie lowered his head and nodded his assent.  At first Bob looked sad.  Then his face reddened.  A vein on his neck began to pulsate.

“Noooooooo!” he yelled and slapped Richie hard across the face.  Richie began to sob bitterly and Bob ran from the room.

Hours later, Bob listened at Richie’s bedroom door and could hear him crying.  He opened the door without knocking.  He stormed into the room, and in a loud and commanding voice he said, “You may live in my house until your eighteenth birthday and then you’re on your own.   Until then, let’s try to avoid each other and never speak to me again.  You disgust me.  I can’t stand the sight of you.”  He turned and left the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

In anger, he stormed out of the house and drove straight to his favorite watering hole.  He drank scotch after scotch.  An acquaintance or two asked him what the trouble was, but he said he preferred not to discuss it and asked to be left alone.  At 2 AM, the bartender told him that he was closing.  “You shouldn’t be driving,” he advised Bob.  Bob scowled at him and staggered out of the bar.  Somehow he managed to enter his car, and he started for home with his wheels screeching.

Almost immediately he began to doze off.  In minutes the car left the road and ran into a sturdy oak tree of some fifty years growth.  He was killed instantly.

At about 5 AM, Richie heard the doorbell. He had not slept a wink.  He was certain that it was his father, drunk, angry, murderous and probably unable to maneuver his key into the front door. 

With great fear he descended the staircase to let his father in.  He took a deep breath and opened the door.  To his surprise, two policemen were standing there.  They in turn were surprised to see the boy standing there fully dressed at 5 AM.  Richie had never undressed, but had lain on the bed all night, fully clothed, sobbing his little heart out.

As gently as they could, the policemen delivered the sad news.  Richie had no tears left.  He was filled with contrasting emotions.  He could only stare at the policemen who assumed he was in a state of shock.

“Is there an adult relative we can call?” one of the men asked Richie.

“Only my Uncle Mike.  He’s my father’s brother.  I have no other relatives.” Richie said in a monotone.

“Do you have his number, please?” the policeman asked.

I have always been closer to Richie than Bob ever was.  Whenever he had a problem, he called me.  His father was always disinterested.  Bob was not always like that, but when his wife Marla died in childbirth, he changed completely.  He always resented Richie and stupidly blamed him for his wife’s death.  He left Richie to be raised by nannies and later boarding schools.  When Richie was ready to begin high school, Bob reluctantly brought him home to live with him.  He rarely ate with his son or interacted with the boy.  He preferred staying long hours at work, and drinking at a local bar the rest of the time.  I had always prayed he would find a good woman to take Marla’s place, but sadly, his drinking precluded such an eventuality.  Richie knew my telephone number by heart.

“He lives in Arizona,” Richie said.  “But it’s only 3 AM there.”

“Well,” the policeman said quietly, “under the circumstances I think we should call.”

Unfortunately I was not home at the time.  I have never married.  At thirty-six I look ten years younger.  I am six feet, two inches tall.  My body is that of an athlete, muscular and solid.  I am well hung and blessed with a beautiful, substantial, uncut cock.  At the end of the day, I have no problem with the ladies and have no real incentive to marry.  The night of the tragedy, at the very moment of it, I was mounted atop a beautiful twenty-two year old waitress, who had served me dinner that very evening.  Richie did not have my cell phone and so it would be a good many hours later before I got the terrible news.

The policeman gave Richie the name of the mortuary where his dad had been taken.  He said he would come by at 10 AM to make sure that he had reached his uncle, and he said he would take him to the mortuary.  Richie thanked him, and saw the two men out.  He tried again to reach me and he left another message.

If it had been a work day, I would have gotten home and received the news earlier, but it was Saturday.  My nubile young thing and I lingered in bed for a long while and then she made me brunch before I finally left for home.

I took the first plane I could get out of Phoenix headed for Boston.  The policeman who had given Richie the bad news had two days off.  He felt sorry for the boy and stayed with him until I could arrive.  When I got off the plane he was there to drive me to the car rental.  He stayed with us until I got the car and was ready to start for home.  He shook my hand and wished us both well.  I thanked him profusely for all he had done.

There was so much to do.  I arranged for the funeral and laid my tortured brother to rest along side his beloved wife.  I gathered all of Richie’s school and medical records.  We arranged for the contents of the house to be donated to charity and we left the sale of the house in the hands of a realtor who came very highly recommended.  We left the probate of the will to Bob’s lawyer.

Strange as it may seem, I was so busy that I had no opportunity to speak to Richie about the events of that fatal night until we were seated on the plane taking us home.  Once we were airborne Richie began to speak without my prompting.

“It’s my fault entirely, Uncle Mike.  If I hadn’t made Dad so angry, this would never have happened.”  Richie dropped his head and started to cry.

“Hey kid, how is it your fault?  You must never think that way,” I tried to reassure him.

“I killed my mother and now I have killed my father,” Richie said in a very matter of fact tone.

“You’ve got to stop that crap,” I ordered.  “You did none of those things.  What in the world makes you think you killed your father?  He was drinking heavily and he shouldn’t have been driving.”

“It was my fault he was drinking,” Richie said simply.

“Your father drank too much ever since your mother died.  He would have been drinking that night without any assistance from you, thank you very much.”  Nothing I said seemed to get through to Richie so at last I asked, “Why do you think he was drinking that night because of you?”

Richie did not answer for a long time.  Then he looked me straight in the eye and said so softly that I had to strain to hear him, “I told him that I was gay.  He slapped me and said that I could stay in his house until my eighteenth birthday and then I was on my own.  He didn’t want us to talk ever again.  That was no strain.  We hardly ever talked up to then.  I heard him storm out of the house.” 

I was shocked.  I didn’t know what to say.  All I could think to do was to put my arm around Richie’s shoulder.  I thought, what kind of a mixed up, bitter man was Bob?  Richie cried softly into my shoulder.  I hoped he would know from my comforting arms that no such fate awaited him with me.  Richie fell asleep on my shoulder.

We took the airport shuttle bus to the long term parking lot and we were soon on our way to my condominium in downtown Phoenix.  I had considered buying a one bedroom apartment and was grateful now that I had gone for a two bedroom.  I parked in my assigned space and we carried our suitcases up to my apartment.  More of Richie’s belongings would arrive by UPS delivery in a day or two.

I showed Richie his room which included his own private bath and we unpacked until every bit of his clothing was in a proper place.  Richie did most of the unpacking himself while I made us lunch in the kitchen.

He came into the kitchen and I beckoned him to sit down at the table.  I served him a ham and cheese sandwich and then I sat down also.

“Listen son,” I said.  There are things, I need to tell you.  First of all, the doctors warned your parents that your mother should not have children.  I don’t know exactly what the problem was, but the doctors said that childbirth could kill her.  Your father didn’t want her to get pregnant, but she pooh-poohed the doctors and went ahead with it.  Your father told me she lied to him about wearing her diaphragm.  It was in no way your fault that she died giving birth to you.  It was all her decision.  Even your father was unaware that she was deceiving him.”  I paused to let that sink in.

“As for your father’s irrational homophobia, let me explain that to you also.  I was two, and your dad was five, when our father abandoned us.  I don’t even remember him, but he was a hero to your dad.  One day he was gone and our mother bitterly told us that he had left them to be with another man.  I was too young to understand but Bob was irrational about it.  After that he hated every homosexual he encountered.  In later years, I tried to explain to him that if Dad had run off with another woman, he wouldn’t hate every woman he met, would he?  I could never change his thinking.  I imagine that his reaction to your announcement triggered a long time cancer brewing in his brain.  It wasn’t your fault.  I bet, given time, he would have asked you to forgive his behavior and he would have come around.  I know for a fact that he loved you, no matter what he might have said to you.”

Again I paused to give Richie time to think about it.  Finally he nodded his head as if to say, I see!  When he did say something to me, it was something totally unexpected.

“Have you ever tried to find your father, my grandfather?” he asked me.  “Where did you live when he left?  I’d sure like to speak with him.  He’d understand what I am going through.  I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to give up his whole life for love of another man.  Can you imagine how tortured he must have been?”

I was flabbergasted.  “I had never thought of it from my father’s point of view,” I answered Richie.  “I am sure he must have been very tortured because I know he was a good man.  If you really think we should search for him, we would have to start in Boston.  That’s where we lived when he left us.”

Richie smiled at me.  It was the first time I had seen him smile since he met me at Logan Airport. 

Some time passed.  I enrolled Richie in our local high school, and with no fear of being thrown out of my condo because he was gay, he became a happy student and began to make friends.  There was one particular friend, who lived in our building. Doug was over all the time, and Richie was constantly at his place.  One day I screwed up my courage and asked point blank if there was some hanky panky going on with the two of them.  Richie turned red and nodded his head.

“Look,” I said.  “I’ll let you know in the future when I will be spending an overnight at some woman’s place and you can entertain Doug.  Deal?”

Richie embraced me.  “Thanks unc,” he said.  “You really oughta meet Doug’s mother.  She’s a single mom and one hot looking broad.  Excuse me.  I really shouldn’t talk like that about my best friend’s mom.”

I laughed and said jokingly, “And what would a fag know about a hot looking broad?” 

“We fags are the ones who dress them to look hot, and don’t you forget that,” Richie said emphatically.  I tousled his hair and we both laughed.

“By the way,” I said, “I’m going out tonight and even if I do come home, it won’t be until midnight or later.”

“Thanks for the head’s up,” Richie said.  Just then there was a knock on the door.  I opened it and there was Doug.  My nephew had good taste.  This boy was one good looking dude.  I remembered what Richie said about his mother and decided that I really did want to meet her.

“I hate to be a pest,” Doug said, but we are in the middle of dinner and I wonder if I could borrow a couple of cans of coke.  We are completely out.”

“Sure,” I said.  Richie and Doug went into the kitchen together to get the cokes, and I bet Richie asked him to come back after dinner.  I decided to do something rash.

“Let me take the cokes upstairs with you, Doug.  I’d like to meet your mom.  Richie talks so highly of her.”  I saw the boys wink at each other as Doug and I headed for the elevator.

When we entered their apartment, Doug yelled, “Get decent Mom, we have company.”  Janet started to come to the door and I stopped breathing.  Standing in front of me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen outside of my fantasies.  I stuck out my hand.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m Doug Sorensen, Richie’s uncle and guardian.

She took my hand.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Janet Shore.  How come we haven’t met before?”

“In all honesty,” I answered, “I’m hardly ever home, but maybe all that will change now that I have met you.”  Doug went to put the cokes on the dining room table.  I stood there transfixed by Janet’s beauty.  Finally, stammering, I asked Janet, “Can I call you sometime?”

 “I’d like that,” she said. 

I considered myself a real stud who knew just what to say to any woman, anytime, in any situation, but I stood there staring helplessly at Janet, not knowing what to say or do.  I knew the boys were planning a romantic evening.  I didn’t want to disappoint them so I had to go through with my plans for tonight, but I vowed to call Janet the next day and ask her out to dinner.

But I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, and I blurted out, “If you’re free tomorrow, would you have dinner with me?”  I was aware that I was acting like a school boy.

“I’m free, and I’d love to have dinner with you,” Janet answered.  I smiled and ran out of the apartment.  A minute later I returned.  “Is 6:30 all right?” I asked.

“Perfect.”

Doug came back to our place about a half hour later.  He carried books to make it look like they were going to study.  I laughed.

“You aren’t really going to study, are you?” I asked.

“It’s more for my mom than you,” he answered honestly.  “Richie has told me how cool you are about our being gay.  It’s more than sex Mr. Sorensen.  Richie and I really care for each other.”  I put my arm on his shoulder.

“I’m sure you do,” I said.  I went into my bedroom to finish dressing and when I came out, the two boys were on the sofa kissing.  Doug’s hand was on Richie’s crotch.  They separated in embarrassment.

“Carry on men.  I’m out of here.”  And off I went.

The minute I left, the boys ran to the computer.  If they made love that night, I don’t know, but I do know that they started a search for my father.

I arrived at my date’s apartment.  Staci was a flight attendant for Southwest Airlines.  She opened the door wearing a negligee and she looked absolutely stunning.  At this point, I usually begin to tent my pants, but no such thing happened.  My head began to spin, and I got terribly nauseous.  The entire world was spinning around me.  Staci took my arm and sat me in a chair.  I vomited all over me and all over her chair and carpeting.

“I’m calling 911,” she said and ran to the phone as I passed out.  I woke up once in the ambulance and heard the EMT say, “We’ve lost him, I can’t get a pulse.”

You’re full of shit, I thought.  I’m alive and well.  Besides I haven’t seen the tunnel and the white light.  I passed out again. 

It seems I was having a heart attack.  It wasn’t something you thought about at thirty-six, but if you smoke and eat lots of cholesterol, I guess you are a prime candidate.  I stopped thinking about life, death, Janet, Staci, Richie or even me.  Everything just went black.

I was in the hospital for several days before I began to be cognizant of my surroundings.  Later, Richie and my friends told me that they had come to visit in the early days, and that I was perfectly coherent when I conversed with them, yet I have no memory of their visits.   On the fifth day (which is the first day I have some recall of) the cardiologist came by.  He explained that they had placed a stent in one of my arteries which had been badly blocked.  I was fine now and the scar tissue on my heart was minimal.  He was going to send me to a rehab hospital for some physical therapy and I should be A-OK after that.  He gave me an appointment card to see him after my therapy was completed.

No sooner did the doctor leave, when Richie came in with Janet and Doug.  Janet took my hand and that didn’t do my heart any good.  I could feel it beating wildly.

“The doctor said that you could do rehab as an outpatient,” Janet said.  “You’ll probably be released tomorrow or the day after at the latest.  It depends when they remove your catheter and IV tubes.”  It was the first time I realized I was encumbered with all those tubes.  “We’ll take good care of you,” Janet added.

“I was so scared, Uncle Mike,” Richie said.  “I was afraid that I’d be all alone.  Please don’t scare me like that again.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” I said sincerely.

After they left, and I was alone, I suddenly could not breathe.  I gasped for air and rang for a nurse.  She in turn sent for a respiratory therapist.  The therapist gave me oxygen and when I was breathing normally, he told me that I had suffered a panic attack.  He showed me a simple little breathing exercise to do if I felt another attack coming on, and he assured me that this exercise would allay the onset of any further attacks.

The next day they removed my catheter and my IV feeding tube.  They started me on a liquid diet.  I was happy to be putting any food into my mouth.  The day after that, I was released from the hospital.  The social worker set up my first appointment at the rehab center, and I was escorted by wheel chair to the hospital entrance where Janet was waiting in her car.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” I assured her.  “I can’t wait to get home.”  I was given about a dozen prescriptions before I left and I asked Janet to please stop at a drug store near to home so I could get them filled.  She did just that and returned an hour or so later to pick them up for me.

“Why are you being so kind?” I asked Janet.

“You’re a friend.  What are friends for?”

“Don’t you work?” I asked.

“I work at home.  I write children’s books.  I’ve had moderate success, enough to support Doug and me.”

Janet got me home, where we were greeted by Richie and Doug.  The apartment was filled with balloons and welcome home signs.  Until recently I had lived a very solitary life.  Suddenly I felt that I was coming home to a family and I began to cry.  Damn!  I never cry.

I was barely settled in an easy chair when the phone rang.  Richie went to answer it, but there was a phone right next to the chair.  I instinctively picked it up and said, “Hello.”

“May I speak to Michael Sorensen,” a soft male voice asked.

“You’re speaking to him,” I answered.

Then, as if my heart wasn’t damaged enough, I heard a sobbing voice say, “Mikey, it’s your father.”

The moment I left my condo on the evening of my heart attack, the boys ran to the computer.  Their first search was at AOL White Pages.  They entered Christopher Sorensen, Boston, MA.  Information popped up on at least one dozen Christopher Sorensens.  They were able to eliminate all but two, based on age.  The subject was either too old or too young.  My father would be in his sixties. They quickly learned that to get further information there would be a fee.  Richie was more than willing to go for it.

The first Christopher still lived in Boston, but moved around a lot.  There were several addresses listed for him.  Also living with him was someone named Carrie, probably his wife.  My mother’s name was Mildred.  My parents had no daughters and Dad had run off to be with a man so it was unlikely that this was he.

The second Chris sounded perfect.  There were two addresses listed for him in Boston, and there was a Glenn Peterson living with him.  The information did not go back to when he lived with Mildred.  The last known address was Palm Springs, CA and Glenn was still living with him.  Richie was relieved that his grandfather and his partner seemed to be alive and well and probably retired.

Richie wrote down all the information, address and phone number.  Then he looked at Doug.  “What do we do now?” he asked.

“You put that paper away until tomorrow and then we’ll call.  For now, we get naked and show each other what true love is all about.”  Richie took Doug’s hand and led him into his bedroom.

The next day found them in a bedside vigil, and all thoughts of calling Richie’s grandfather were tabled.  It was only after the doctor assured Richie that I would be fine, did he relax and begin to think about his grandfather again.

The boys now had my apartment all to themselves.  In fact they had Doug’s apartment too, because Janet insisted on being with me in the hospital most of the time.  No words were spoken, but Janet and I knew that there was something wonderful going on between us.

Richie had to screw up courage to dial the number he believed would lead him to his grandfather.  Doug had to stand beside him and urge him on.  The phone rang three times and Richie was about to hang up when a soft spoken male voice said, “Hello.”

“Is this Mr. Sorensen?” Richie asked.

“No, this is Glenn.  Hold on a minute and I’ll get him.  Can I tell him who is calling?”

Richie screwed up all his courage and said, “My name is Richard Sorensen and I have reason to believe that Christopher Sorensen is my grandfather.”

Richie could hear Glenn’s very loud gasp.  “Hold on, son, hold on.  I’ll get him right away.”

Richie waited for what seemed like hours but was only a few seconds.  He heard a kindly voice ask, “Richard, this is Chris.  What makes you think I’m your grandfather?”

“Everything fits,” Richie answered.  “Please let me ask you a few questions.  Was your wife’s name, Mildred?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to tell you she passed away two years ago.  Did you have two sons, Robert and Michael?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Bob’s son, and again I’m sorry to tell you that he was killed in an accident a few months ago.  I’m living with Uncle Mike now, in Phoenix.  Mike just had a heart attack, but it was mild and he’ll be fine.  He’s coming home from the hospital in a day or two.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, but Richie could tell his grandfather was crying.

“Grandpa,” Richie said, “please don’t cry.  Uncle Mike and I want to meet you and we want you to be a part of our lives.  He’ll be home from the hospital in a couple of days.  I’ll call you when he comes home and then you can call him and we can arrange to all get together.”

“Yes, yes,” Chris found his voice.  “That will be wonderful.  Richard, dear Richard, you have made me so happy.  Even my room mate is standing here crying.”

“Grandpa, I know that Glenn is your partner.  You don’t have to refer to him as your room mate.  In fact, my partner, Doug, is standing right here crying also.  We’ve gone through hell sometimes in our coming out process, and we really need your love and guidance to help us get through it.  Uncle Mike is great and he’s supportive, but he doesn’t really understand what it’s like.”

“Glenn and I are here for you boys.  Just call when Mikey gets home and we’ll come right out.  It’s not that big a trip.”

“I love you Grandpa.”

“I love you too, Son.”

When I heard the words, “I’m your father,” I damn near had another heart attack, but I took a deep breath, and then I did the breathing exercise the therapist had taught me.  Quick enough I was breathing normally.

“Mike, are you there?” Chris asked.

“Dad? Daddy?”  I sputtered or stammered. I don’t know which. 

Janet motioned for the boys to come with her and to leave me alone to speak to my father.  They all went into the kitchen where they sat quietly, unable to talk.

“Janet, Janet,” I yelled, after a long conversation with my father.  They all ran back to the living room.  When I saw Janet, I stood up.  I grabbed her and started kissing her.  It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for us to do.

I started to cry.  “I found my father.  He and his partner are coming to Phoenix on the first plane out.  They’ll be taking a cab from the airport.  He’ll call when he knows when.”

Janet and the boys busied themselves making lunch for us.  In a very short time the phone rang.  I grabbed it again.  My dad told me that they would be arriving at 11:00 AM the next day, and should be at our apartment no later than 12:30.  I shook as I hung up the phone.

Richie and I sat expectantly waiting for Chris and Glenn to arrive.  Janet and Doug decided to give us alone time.  I wanted them there too because they were family, but they declined.  It seemed like we fidgeted for hours but at 12:15 the doorbell rang.

Richie ran and opened the door.  He gasped.  There stood a replica of his father only older.  Standing beside him, Glenn was even taller by a bit.  What a beautiful couple, Richie thought.  He threw his arms around Chris and said softly, “I’m Richie, Grandpa.”

“How did you know which one of us was your Grandfather?” Chris asked.  Richie started to laugh.

“You and my dad are clones.”  They had only one suitcase and Richie grabbed it from them.

In the meantime I stood there unable to move.  Chris and Glenn came into the apartment and saw me standing there.  Chris ran to me and squeezed me so hard, I thought my ribs would crack.  He was sobbing like a baby on my shoulder.  He kept muttering, “Mike, Mikey.  I can’t believe it’s you.”

My father introduced us to Glenn.  We shook his hand warmly, and then I took everyone into the kitchen for lunch.  Janet had prepared a lovely lunch of salads.  There were chicken, tuna, shrimp and egg salad platters to be spread on lettuce.  All I had to do was put up the coffee and put out the bread and butter.

Everything grew very quiet.  Nobody knew exactly what to say so I screwed up my courage and asked, “Dad, why did you never try to see Bob and me, and why didn’t you contribute to our support?”

“What are you talking about?” Chris asked incredulously.  “I sent your mother $1,000.00 a month for the two of you, until each of you graduated college.  I even sent extra money while the two of you were in college.  I begged her to let me come and see you, but she got out restraining orders against me.  She told the police that I had threatened to beat her, just as I did when I lived at home.  It was all lies, but I didn’t want you boys to be in an uncomfortable environment and eventually I let go.  I always sent you birthday and Christmas cards with money.  Didn’t you get them?”

I sat listening to my father unable to breathe or speak.  My mother had deceived me until she died.  Not only had she denied me having a father, but she had not told me about the money.  If only Bob could be here to learn all this.

“Daddy,” I reverted to childhood.  “If it’s any consolation, mom left Bob and me a great deal of money when she passed.  Richie’s future is well set.  It was probably your money, and we thank you.  All I can say is that I am so sorry for what she did to you, and let’s promise to make up for lost time.  Now, how would you two like to meet Richie’s boy friend and the woman I intend to marry?  I haven’t told her yet, but I know she knows, and feels the same way.  Richie, why don’t you get Doug and his mother down here?”

Glenn asked, “You mean Richie’s lover’s mother is the woman you speak of?”  I nodded, and both men laughed.

“That’s quite a family unit,” Chris said.  “I can speak for Glenn as well as for myself when I tell you how grateful we are for your attitude toward Richie and his sexual orientation.  After the tortured life we led until we found each other, we can well appreciate your understanding.  The boys don’t know how good they have it.  By the way son, when I married, I had no intention of deceiving your mother about my sexual orientation, but the shame of being a homosexual back then was too much for me to bear.  Can you forgive me?”

“Hell, Dad,” I said.  “If you didn’t marry Mom where would Richie and I be today?”  That got a good laugh from all of us. 

“You guys will camp out in Richie’s room tonight.  The boys will have to suffer and sleep together in Doug’s bed.  I wish I could bunk in with Janet, but we’re not there yet.  I still need some more recovery time from my recent heart attack.”

Just then Janet came in with the boys.  She unashamedly kissed both men on the lips and called Chris, “Dad.”  I could only beam with joy.  We all squeezed around the kitchen table and ate lunch while making plans for the rest of my dad’s stay. 

I couldn’t help but wonder at the change in my life.  In a couple of short month’s I had gone from a pussy chasing bachelor to a loving family man.  Janet could sense my joy.  She took my hand and squeezed it tightly.  I was so moved that I could not contain myself.  I jumped up and embraced and kissed everyone at the table.  I could feel my love flowing back to me through my family.  I saved Janet for last.  She stood up as I took her into my arms and I kissed her warmly on the lips.

“Hey, Unc,” Richie said, breaking the romantic moment.  “Have you realized yet that two-thirds of your family is gay, way above the national average?”  We all roared with laughter as I kissed Janet just a little bit harder.  My peripheral vision informed me that Glenn and my dad, and Richie and Doug were similarly occupied.

Posted: 02/13/09