Cast of Characters
"Chris, hurry up, we're late already," Alex called as he finished his tie. It was nearly seven and they were expected to be at the club by seven-thirty. At the rate his partner was moving, they would get there just in time to say their good-nights. Leaning back, he looked into the bathroom where Chris was busy preening at his half naked body in the mirror. Stepping up behind him, he swatted his love on the ass playfully; "Come on, we have to go, like now!"
Alex draped his arms over Chris's shoulders, the two of them looking lovingly at each other. With a sigh, Chris turned, now they were face to face. "What ever did I do to get stuck with you?" He asked teasingly with a grin before the two of them kissed.
"What did you do? I'm the one who got the short end of this deal." Alex teased back, wincing when his remark gained him a pinch on the ass. He smacked the offending hand away. The playfulness done, Chris walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that they had shared for the last six years. He stood there, spaced out, just like in front of the mirror, only for a different reason this time. As he looked at his selection of shirts, he pondered which would work best with what, and what would wear better.
"Will you hurry up, already?" Alex suggested as he finished his own primping. As he peeked back into their room, "No, not that one, why don't you wear the blue one—the baby-blue one?" he suggested, nodding his head towards the shirt that he was referring to.
Chris picked out the suggested shirt, holding it in front of him. "But, this shirt's too tight, I can barely fit in it." He whined, stopping as he spoke the words, taking in everything those words implied; he looked over his shoulders at his lover. Looking into Alex's eyes, looking into his face and seeing the evil grin and the twinkle in his eye, he understood exactly why it was suggested for him. Carefully, he slipped his arms into the sleeves, letting the silky fabric slide over his smooth skin. Smoothing the front down his chest, his fingers glided over the well-defined abs as he started buttoning the shirt.
He hadn't even gotten more than half way up when a set of hands that were not his own slipped down over his shoulders to stop him. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Alex asked, as he lay his chin on his love’s shoulder.
"Not within the last few minutes, but you can show me how much," Chris suggested wickedly as he turned to kiss his love. It didn't take much for the two of them to be showing their love and passion towards each other; if not for an instance of looking at the clock on the end table, Chris would have forgone leaving at all.
"Come on, you know they’re probably going to be waiting for us by the time we get there," Alex said as he slipped from his lover’s grasp, reaching for his jacket. As he slipped his hands into the jacket sleeves, the car keys fell from the side pocket, rattling to the floor. As he reached for them, he jumped up as he felt the sharp slap of an open hand across his ass. Quickly turning, he playfully slapped in return at Chris, "We don't have time for this." It took nearly another ten minutes of prodding to finally get Chris out the door.
As he figured, it was nearly eight by the time they pulled into the parking lot of the club where they would be meeting with their friends. They saw the table from the door; after showing I.D.'s, they passed the bar and headed over to the familiar crowd waiting for them. Brad slapped a twenty down on the table where it was quickly taken by Shannon. Chris and Alex looked at each other with a confused look.
"Told you … an hour on the dot," Shannon said aloud as she tucked the twenty into her purse. Alex blushed, embarrassed that their friends had bet on how late they would be.
Chris, of course, was the one to speak out. "Well, where's my cut then?" he asked, a question that bought him a quick slap across his shoulder. The slap brought laughter from some of their friends, breaking the tension that hovered over them. Soon, the first round of drinks arrived and the celebrating began. Alex was remaining sober, not that he didn't drink, but, they had decided, the both of them together, that this time, he would be the designated driver for the two of them.
Though it was a weeknight, there were still a number of people around. The night would have gone undisturbed save for a very rude comment from another group of celebrators at the bar. "Look at the fuckin' fags over there." The words silenced Alex and Chris's friends as they couldn't believe what they had just heard. "They shouldn't be allowed in the same places as the rest of us normal folk." Chris started getting out of his seat; save for Alex’s restraining hand, he would have probably made one hell of a scene.
"Let's get out of here," Shannon quietly suggested; the others agreed. Alex kept a strong grip on his lover as the group made their way towards the exit, they had no wish for a scene; they just wanted to get out of there as quickly and as quietly as they could. They made it past the bar and nearly out the door. All would have gone well, if only that group had kept silent a for a few minutes more, but that was not going to happen.
"Good riddance. The smell in here was getting too much for me to handle," one of the drunks stated as he lifted his glass to his lips.
Chris stopped dead in his tracks. Alex clenched at Chris's hand, "Please, baby, let's just leave," Alex begged of his lover. Never before had he ever wanted a night to be over as much as he did right then, at that moment. It had taken all the strength that he had to walk past those men as he walked towards the door; all he thought of was leaving with the love of his life, but that comment had touched a part of him that he couldn't ignore. With a deep sigh, Chris turned to face them. Brushing away hands that fought to pull him back, to restrain him from what they thought he was about to do, he made his way towards the bar, not stopping till he was nearly nose to nose with the drunk man who had made the remake as they had passed.
"I don't know you, and you certainly don't know me. I have no idea what kind of issues you have, but I think you owe my friends and me an apology before we leave," Chris stated calmly as he waited for an answer. The answer he got was not unexpected; he just had hoped that these guys would be able to step beyond such primitive responses. Even though Chris had already thrown back a few drinks, his reflex's were still sharp enough to catch the fist before it could slam into his gut. He sighed, shaking his head before pushing the offensive fist away. He turned, wordlessly, facing his friends and lover, "There's nothing left for us here; let's go somewhere we can celebrate in style."
They left unmolested after that. As soon as the door closed behind them and they were gone, Shane, the bartender, leaned over and spoke to the drunk man and his friends as he still rubbed the soreness from his fist. " You're just lucky that he was in a good mood tonight," he stated as he dried a pilsner before placing it on a shelf. His response got the curiosity of the drunk.
"Oh really? And why is that?" he asked, now turning his attention to a new source.
"Do you have any idea who that was?" the bartender queried. The vacant look was more than answer enough. "That man, the one who you thought you could take on so easily, his name is Chris, Chris Lowenstein." With that, he was cut off by one of the drunk’s friends.
"Not THE Chris Lowenstein?" the guy butted in. Seeing that his friends had no clue as to what or who he was going on about, he decided to enlighten them. "He's only one of the top cage fighters in the U.S. in the last decade." With that, the other guys put the pieces together.
"I don't get it." The first guy said as he looked blankly at the floor. "How can a guy, a world class fighter, be one of those fucking fairies?" For a brief moment, there was only silence, silence that was broken by the harsh sound of the bartender’s palm connecting with the man’s cheek as he slapped him. The drunk raised a hand to his flushed cheek in astonishment, his jaw hanging open limply.
"I don't mind some of the name calling that goes on in here, but that is about enough. If you men wish to continue using that language, you can leave and don't bother coming back." Without another word, the bartender turned his back to them, continuing about his business, paying them no never-mind. He heard them go as they left, his hearing had to be sharp in this business. Glancing in the mirror behind the rows of glasses, he gently fingered the edge of a well worn photo. A photo of two smiling men, hand in hand. A slight tear formed at the edge of his eye. "I miss you so much, Jimmy," he whispered.
Memories flooded his mind—memories of growing up, of his best friend, Jimmy. The two of them were all but inseparable, the best of friends since before they started school. In high school, the two of them played on the same football team, though Jimmy was more of an academic type than a jock. It didn't stop him from helping his friend with his schoolwork in order to help him graduate in the top percentile of their class. Both of their families were so proud when the graduates both choose to go to the same college.
It had been winter break, their freshman year, that they had been joking about their future, what they would be after graduating. It had been out of the blue when Jimmy leaned over and kissed him. The shock of it had caught him off guard. He was not prepared for this of all things. Jimmy had been his best friend, a brother, to find out that the guy who he thought he knew, was gay, was more than he could handle. He got to his feet and ran, leaving Jimmy frozen in fear, tears streaming down his face. Days passed with not a word said between them.
When they finally had run into each other, Jimmy grabbed at him, "Please, Shane, we need to talk," he pleaded. Shane wasn't ready for it, not ready to admit that he missed his friend, but he was still too afraid of what his other friends—the guys on the football team—would think of him, say about him, if they knew that his best friend was gay. He pulled away, wordlessly walking to his next class, not looking back. Had he, he would have seen Jimmy fall to his knees, his hands covering his face, as tears flooded from his eyes. That was the last time the two of them spoke, well, at least words between them, from that day on, they saw each other only in passing. Shane would always find someway to leave without confronting his old friend.
Had he continued to talk with him, he would have learned that Jimmy had met someone—someone who also was on the football team. It was nothing physical as yet, holding hands in secret, a slight touch and soft words. Jimmy had taken to coming to the games, making sure that his ex friend never saw him, knowing that it could start more trouble for his new love. It was at one of the big games that Jimmy was shocked, without fear of being caught, his lover came over to him, "Wait for me after the game." He pleaded. Jimmy, against his better judgment, agreed.
Unfortunately, the team lost to the visiting team; it was a bad loss for the team; their spirits were down and their aggression was high. Jimmy waited in the shadows, waited for the rest of the team to leave, so that he could meet his love without revealing their connection to everyone else. There, a shadow moved towards him. Jimmy pulled back, waiting, when he made out the familiar face of his love, he stepped from the shadows without reserve, a mistake that he could not undo. As he made his way to embrace him, more shadows began to break from the dark, moving towards them. Jimmy froze, stopping where he was, but it was too late; he had left the safety of the shadows.
"Tom? What's going on?" Jimmy asked, his voice begging for help. Tom was not alone; three other players from the team had joined him from the darkness, players who had moved through to get to him. As they moved closer still, Jimmy was able to see their faces, though he didn't know them personally, but he did know the look in those eyes. They were filled with emotion, with haltered and anger. They were mad at losing the game, mad at the world that would not celebrate with them, and they needed something to release their anger, to let their anger escape, and Jimmy was an easy target for their rage. Jimmy backed away from the approaching hoard, preparing to flee … but it was too late.
His escape route was blocked. He tried to break past them. Their strong hands grabbed him, holding him back from the freedom that lay just beyond. As the hands clenched and held him, keeping him from escaping, he was dragged crying and begging towards the football field. Jimmy wasn't a total weakling, he had a fairly good tone, but up against these guys, it was useless to resist. He hoped they would simply smack him around, maybe bloody his nose and make an "example" of him and then just leave him alone. He would know better than to trust anyone after this.
They dragged him to the training sled, propping him against one of the tackling dummies. They tore his own shirt to use to tie him up. He took the first few hits as best he could; eventually he hoped they would get tired and just leave him, humiliated. When the strength should have lightened, it didn't. The hits kept coming, hard and strong. Jimmy's eyes widened in fear as the realization that this wasn't going to end any other way than his serious injury. The pain was nearly overwhelming, tears washing away the trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. With his final breath, the last word to slip past his lips was the only name that he ever cared for above his own life, "Shane…"
It wasn't until late the next morning that his cold, lifeless body was found, still tied, beaten, covered in his own blood. After he had collapsed, slipping out of this world, his attackers had taken a knife of some sort and carved the word "Faggot" into his bared flesh. Shane never got over it. When the team members were caught and charges brought against them, he sat in the courtroom and prayed for justice. When the judgment came in, the four team members would only get a slap on the wrist and set free. After that day, Shane became a role leader for the causes of justice and equality. He became active in supporting gays and lesbians in his community after that. Each time he looked into the eyes of a youth who feared for his or her life, he saw Jimmy’s eyes the night that he had kissed him. If he could save just one youth, then perhaps his death had some meaning.
Brad and Shannon rode with Mark as they followed Alex and Chris to another club—one they knew they would be welcomed at, with no fear of hatred. The night seemed to fly by, filled with laughter and good times for the group of friends, joined by other well-wishers as they passed by. Stretching his arms overhead with a yawn, Alex was ready to call it a night. "Well, I think it's about time I get this boy to bed," he suggested.
"What? I'm still ready for action..." Chris started before a hand slipped between his thighs, tightening slightly over the bulge in his jeans.
"Oh, trust me, you are ready for bed, not that you aren't done with action," Alex said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes as he helped his lover adjust his package. The others giggled; Chris smiled, finally putting things together and realizing that just because Alex wanted to go home and then to bed, it didn't suggest that he was eager to go to sleep.
With a grin from ear to ear, Chris stretched his arms. "You know … I am feeling a bit worn out," he stated as he started to stand. The others suppressed snickers as the two lovebirds got ready to leave.
As they headed towards the door, Shannon piped up, "Don't do anything I wouldn't."
Alex snuck a peek over his shoulder at her, retorting, "There are few things you wouldn't do, darlin’." His comment caught her off-guard and her face twisted in embarrassment.
"That's true," Brad commented, earning him a slap on the arm and a look of mild disgust from Shannon, followed by more laughter.
Chris wasn't the sort to let words thrown around in play hurt him. He eagerly walked hand in hand with his love out to their car. The few drinks that he had, did make his head feel light and fuzzy but not enough so that he wouldn't be up to whatever special activities his love had in store for them once they got back to their condo. He watched the city lights pass by as they drove, his mind wandering back to how it had been three years before. He laughed at the memory of how Alex bumped into a restaurant customer and ended up tripping and falling face first into his lap.
The memory of seeing Alex's face, blushing, between his legs, looking up at him—it was that face that had first gotten his attention, attracting him to the stranger. "I am sooo sorry," Alex had stammered, trying to get to his feet. Rather than be upset or aggressive, Chris asked him to join him for lunch.
"Please, it's the least that you can do." Chris was more than willing to blackmail this man to join him. What was this attraction that he felt for this man? From the suit he wore, they weren't of the same class. He knew that he probably came off as the tough, macho type; too many people saw him merely as a stereotype and not a person. It was true, he was a fighter, it was a living—not WHO he was. He had been openly gay as a young teen, but being "out" came at a price. After coming home one night with a bloody nose and a broken jaw, his father gave him two choices. Keep quite about everything, about who he was, or learn to protect himself.
Two days later, he had walked into the gym and talked with the man who would become his coach and friend for years to come. After that, it didn't matter that he wasn't straight. Besides … gaining the skills and even the strength to fight and protect himself, he also gained the discipline to know the difference between fighting on the streets and fighting in the ring. He never allowed himself to fight outside of the ring unless it was unavoidable; even then, he used only enough skill and power to stop the confrontation.
Chris and Alex saw each other often after that first meeting, it was months before they came out to each other about their preferences. Chris, though the stronger, macho stereotype, was the first to laugh about it all. When Alex asked what he thought was so funny, the reply was not what he was expecting.
"After all this time, we’ve been dating for months, yet, we just now tell each other that we’re actually interested in each other." Chris barely got the words out before falling back on his bed with laughter. The humor of the whole situation was not lost on Alex. It really was funny; the two of them had been "dating" each other in silence because they had never told each other that they were interested in finding the same thing in a significant other. As Alex started to laugh, Chris grabbed him about the waist, pulling him on top of himself on the bed.
That night was the first night they made love, the first night that they truly felt they were living. That had been the greatest night, with the first of many-more-to-come mornings after. "Good morning," Chris said to the man still huddled against him. Looking down into those gorgeous blue eyes, he smiled, "and Merry Christmas."
Alex looked up into Chris's brown eyes; it was a very merry Christmas indeed. It had been the first Christmas they’d spent together; that had been three years ago. They were still together, happily and fully committed to each other. It was nearly their anniversary; that was why they were out celebrating with their friends, celebrating being together for three years. That night, they celebrated alone the same way they had spent their first night together, reveling in each other’s embrace. As much as they both would have enjoyed sleeping in, their slumber was disturbed by the ringing of the bedside phone.
"Good morning?" Alex mumbled as he pulled the phone to his ear. At the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, he sat up quickly. "No, Mom, of course we're not still in bed," Alex struggled with the words, causing his love only to laugh to himself. He enjoyed making his love squirm as he started to glide his fingers over his bare flesh under the silk sheets. Alex switched the phone to his other hand, using his, then free, hand to swat his lover lightly while still trying to talk to his mother. Chris decided to step it up a notch, puling the sheets over his head as he lowered himself into a lying position. Alex nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the first feathery touch of hot lips on his bare thigh.
Alex bucked and squirmed, trying hard not to let the nibbling lips distract him. Finally he was able to say his good-byes and hang up. Free to act, he pounced, rolling his lover onto his back, pinning him down on their bed. "Do you have ANY idea how that probably looks to my mom?" he asked. It was hard for him to get an answer, not with his lover laughing so hard beneath him. Chris wiggled beneath his lover, allowing him to notice that he was more than just awake. With a smug smirk on his face, Alex shifted where he was sitting, "Well, it's a good thing I have the day off from the office." With that, he bent down and kissed his lover's lips.
They spent most of the day in bed; eventually though, Alex knew that it wasn't something that they could do all day. With a sigh, he sat up, slapping his lover’s knee lightly, he turned to get out of the bed they shared. "Come on, we still have some packing to do before the we head out." With that, he shifted, slipping out and standing up. Chris lay back, lounging, enjoying seeing his lover’s body. Even with the shades drawn, there was enough light filtering through to give a soft glow to the naked body struggling to get dressed so quickly. Alex turned, seeing that his love wasn't making a move to get out of bed. "Come on; you know that we don't have time for this."
Chris wasn't going to argue the matter; besides, Alex was right. It was sad that even with the day off to celebrate being together, they had to spend it packing for the holidays. Alex still had one more day of work before his vacation time kicked in. His bosses tried as best they could to corner him into working more days. They knew Alex was a good employee, well worth the salary that he earned; they also knew that if they pushed too hard, they were liable to lose an asset they couldn't afford to lose. Alex had connections with other companies that would fight for the chance to hire him away; in fact, Alex had already turned down a few advances out of loyalty.
"Look, we don't have time for this. Tomorrow, I have three briefs to hand in as well as seal the Donovan deal. You have training classes till four; then, if we hit the road by five-thirty and find a place on the road for dinner, we should be pulling into my parents’ place by ten," Alex stated as he sat back down to pull his pants up from his ankles. Chris took this opportunity to wrap his arms around Alex's chest and pull him back and into his embrace.
"You worry too much," Chris said between kissing his lover’s neck, quickly making his way up to his ears, then starting to nibble on them. He didn't fight back when Alex struggled to free himself. Only a sigh left his lips as he accepted the inevitable, slipping out of bed himself. He had already packed all that he figured he would need; it wasn't as if they were moving or anything, they were only going to be gone for a little over a week’s time. Alex was the one who still believed there was more to be packed, but he had no idea what. Almost everything was packed, unless, of course, he was going to take the sink. "Would you relax a bit? Everything is going to be fine; we’ll be on time, don't worry," Chris tried to comfort him.
The next day went smoothly, nothing to worry about. Alex was saying his good-byes to the rest of the staff that he considered something of friends when he was asked to see the higher-ups before leaving. "Come in, Alex; close the door behind you," his supervisor asked. Alex wasn't too sure of why he was there; why, at the last minute, he was talking with one of his bosses. As he sat down, he knew something was up. "We’ve been watching you for some time now..." he started. Alex was pleased, knowing that his devotion was being watched, just getting acknowledged was good. "In fact, we see a promotion in your future..."
Alex was shocked, he had no idea that they were thinking of promoting him; somehow though, he felt there was a catch, he just had to wait for it. "Of course, with this promotion, comes greater responsibilities. We hope that we can count on you." Alex heard an undertone in the conversation; he just felt that something was up. "We know that you have some vacation time coming, but, we really would like for you to put your personal touch on this deal." With that, a folder was laid out before him. Taking the folder in hand, he couldn't believe it; his bosses were asking him to work over his vacation, knowing that this was not only the first vacation all year that he had taken—forgetting the fact that it was Christmas—and they were willing to ask him to do this.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but, I just don't think I am going to have time to do work while I'm at my parents’ house. I would be more than willing to devote all the time needed..." Alex started.
A smile crossed his boss’s face, believing that he had won.
"…but, not until I get back. I'm sorry, Sir, but I will not work over my vacation." With that, Alex slid the folder away, standing to make it known that his stand on this was firm.
His boss folded his hands together, his fingers resting on his chin menacingly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Alex; we had such high hopes that you would have a place here. If you feel so strongly, I'm afraid that we are going to have to let you go." Alex heard the words, and heard the strength behind them. It saddened him to think that his boss would try and force him like this, to blackmail him over his job, and over the holidays???
Not one to be pushed into something he didn't truly believe in, Alex got to his feet, laying his hands on the front of the desk, "If that's truly how you feel, Sir, I'll have my office cleared before the end of the day." Alex turned without another word, walking calmly to the door, seeing himself out. He knew that he was in a tight spot but he wasn't about to be bullied into something against his will. He didn't pause as he let himself out, closing the door behind him, though he could hear the faint tones of the phone, no doubt calling the rest of the board to let them know that not only was he not going to "play ball," but that they had just lost one of the assets of the firm.
Word spread quickly through the office, word that Alex was gone. Some of the gossip said that he had walked out, quietly; others said that he had been fired for one reason or another; only his truest friends came to hear from his lips what had really transpired behind closed doors. Clearing his office, Alex looked out of his window at the busy streets below. For six long years, he had been a devout and loyal employee, and now it was all being thrown out on a single deal that they couldn't wait a week on. "So, what are you going to do?" Samantha asked as she carefully helped place nick-knacks from their place on a glass shelf into a box.
Alex had no idea; it wasn't as if he had ever given thought to something like this happening to him. No, getting fired from the firm never crossed his mind. He sighed to himself; he had no choice but to try and figure that out. The first thing he had to figure out, was how he was going to break this news to Chris once he got home. He had some savings, money tucked away; originally he had planed on saving it for his retirement, now it seemed as good as any to fall back on. With his friend’s help, he was packed and moved out of his office well before the end of the work day. "Sorry to see you go, Sir." The doorman said sadly, being more formal than usual.
"You still have a chance; all you have to do, is ask for them to let you come back..." Cyble offered. Of all the people who worked for the firm, he always figured she was more a tool for their will; he just didn't figure she would ask him to stay. Her offer was real though, they would let him stay if he crawled back and begged them. But if he did, he would be theirs, heart and soul, obeying their every will and whim.
"Sorry, Cyble, but I don't think there's a place for me here," Alex said as he placed the last of his boxes in the back seat of his car. At least he had time after getting home before he would have to face Chris with the news. Pulling into the parking lot of the condo they now shared, he unpacked box after box into the storage space that came with it. Alex tried his best to keep calm, to control his edgy emotions. At the sound of the tumblers in the front door lock, he knew that the time had finally come—to face the music, as they say.
"Honey, I'm home," Chris called as he opened the door. He always had a smile on his face when he said that; for some reason it made him laugh to himself. "So, how was your day?" he asked as he took off his coat and hung it next to the others.
"Where to start?" Alex mumbled to himself.
"What was that?" Chris asked as he entered the living room, plopping down in a lounge chair across from his love. Looking into Alex's eyes, he could see that there was a lot there to hear, the look carried so much. "Come on, baby, something’s wrong; I can see it in your eyes," he said as he quickly got up and went down on his knees before his love; placing hands gently on either thigh, his face showed his concern.
With a sigh, Alex looked up, into his lover’s eyes. "I was fired today..." He started, automatically bringing his love’s attention full on him. His words hit strongly, so hard that he fell backwards on his ass in shock. "They decided to let me go since I wasn't going to give up my vacation to work for them," he stated; his gaze lowered, falling to the floor, as he was unsure how the reason for his losing his job would come across.
"They had no right," Chris declared as he got back to his feet. "Well, it's a good thing that I got another four students signed up for after the holidays," he stated with a smirk. "I guess this means that I'm the man of the house, and you can stay home and be a mommy," he joked, earning him a playful slap on the shin. "Don't we have a schedule to keep?" he asked, using it as a means of diverting the attention from the conversation at hand. He knew it might be a tight couple of months, but he could support the two of them, even for as long as it took; he would never let his love feel that it was his fault.
Alex stood up, taking his love in a bear hug, kissing him roughly on the lips. "I do so love you; you know that; right?" It was such a rhetorical question that he didn't bother waiting for an answer. With a deep shrug of his shoulders, he turned to go to their bedroom and grab the last bag. It didn't take them long to be on the road. Alex turned the radio on to one of their favorite stations but decided that something more festive was in order. It didn't take too much searching to find a station that had some nice holiday music playing that allowed him to drift away from the day’s worries and concerns.
It seamed as if only moments had past since they left the condo on their way to Alex's parents’ when they pulled off at an out-of-the-way diner. It was as if he had been caught up in a dream; shaking away the clouds and cobwebs, he realized where they were. "What time is it?" Alex asked as he tried to judge by the setting sun.
"It's almost eight, we've been on the road over two hours now. I figured we could grab something to eat before we head the rest of the way down the road," Chris stated as he opened the driver’s door and began to step out of the car. He didn't bother waiting for Alex to get out as he headed towards the entrance, he knew he would be along soon enough. A waitress had just come up to where a waiting Chris stood when Alex joined him.
"Just the two of you?" she asked. After they nodded an affirmative, she turned to show them to her section. "Table or booth?" she asked as she paused for an answer.
"A booth, please," Alex blurted out. After everything that had gone on earlier, he wanted a little privacy with his lover; even if they were in a public diner, there really weren't all that many customers, so it wasn't overly crowded. The waitress showed them to a corner booth that shielded them on three sides, counting the window. Placing menus down in front of the two, she excused herself to go about her work. Alex made a show of paging through; his mind wasn't thinking about whether he should order a chef’s salad or have the salmon; no, his mind was working over the whole "What do I do with my life now?" So busy with his thoughts, it wasn't until Chris tried getting his attention for the third time that he came back to where he was. "What?" he asked, shaking his head.
"I asked, what are you thinking," Chris said, his hand snaking over the tabletop to grasp his. The two of them weren't big on public displays; his actions spoke much louder than words and Alex was truly touched by the display. Alex was at odds with himself—so much to deal with, so many questions running through his head. The loudest amongst them, was what to do, now that he had no job and no source of drive to push him further in life. Without such drive, he felt useless and that was something he refused to be, not to Chris, nor to himself.
With a sigh, he looked down at the tabletop, "I'm worried—worried about what’s going to happen now that I'm unemployed," he said honestly. He had no secrets from the man he loved; what type of lover would he be if he had ANY secrets? He lifted his gaze, worried about what he might see in the eyes that looked deep into his. Chris squeezed his hand tighter, a subtle way of letting his love know that no matter what may happen, no matter what the future held for the two of them, he would always be there, at his side, ready to accept whatever came as a couple.
"Are you two young bucks ready to order?" the waitress' question broke the silence between them. They quickly pulled their hands apart, bringing them back to the public place where they were.
"I'll just have a chef's salad, please," Alex offered. He knew that his mother would probably have a huge dinner waiting for the two of them once they got home, and he didn't want to upset her by having a full meal before they got there.
"And you, handsome?" she asked, turning to look at Chris, who, while still holding some composure, had started to blush at being caught holding his love’s hand in public.
"Just a glass of O-J, please; I'm sure I'll probably be sharing part of his salad anyways," Chris stated. He often teased his love that he ate like a bird, barely putting down enough food to sustain a small pet rather than a well built young man; the youthful frame that was almost always hidden under a full business suit. Not that Chris didn't like his partner’s style, but, even still, it was a rare occasion that he was able to get him to put on something more casual than a polo shirt, let alone, jeans. Neither of them even noticed as the waitress wordlessly left them alone to themselves.
It wasn't long after, that the salad, a bit larger than a normal chef’s—but no one mentioned it aloud—was placed on the table between the two along with two tall, chilled glasses of orange juice. Chris had no choice in the matter, he really needed to use the head. He hadn't had a chance to use the apartment's before they took off. Excusing himself, he headed to the men’s room. As he rounded the front counter, heading towards the short hallway that led to the restrooms, the waitress who had taken their order leant over, looking back at the booth, she commented to him, "You’re a very lucky guy."
The comment caught him off-guard. He just stopped in his tracks, stunned over what she had just said to him. 'She knows!' his mind exclaimed silently. The shock on his face was plain to see, something that she noted; gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him that everything was okay. Chris said nothing. After the pause of feeling her comforting hand on his shoulder, when she removed it, he continued to the restroom, undisturbed. When he returned to their table, he had a few things on his mind. Leaning over, he whispered in Alex's ear, what his mind had told himself. Alex coughed on the bite of salad he had in his mouth, the idea that they suddenly were exposed for who they were in private.
Looking about the diner, seeing the warm faces, the smiles shyly given them. "They all know," Alex whispered back. The fact that none of the customers were getting up, heading for the door and leaving, made them even more curious. For the most part, they kept their love for each other a secret; only their inner, most trusted friends knew the truth of their relationship. The smiles only made it seem all the more unusual. 'Could they all be okay with it?' Alex asked himself. As they looked, from face to face, all they saw was acceptance.
"Just go with it..." Chris said, knowing just how much brooding his love could do if left to his own. Even though he knew it would probably be a bad idea in the first place, he leant in and kissed Alex on the cheek. Alex pulled back suddenly at the sudden display. He reeled in his mind. 'What just happed?' he asked himself. He glanced around, fearing where the first motion of attack would come from; he was even more puzzled at what he saw. Not only were they not showing signs of aggression, but, most of them had gone back to whatever they had been doing when they had first been seated.
Feeling free once more, like when they were with their friends—well, at least the ones who knew the truth of them—the two young men were able to enjoy their small meal together. Alex glanced at his watch and was stunned at how late it was getting. "Oh My GOD!" Alex exclaimed. "We should have been on the road half an hour ago. We are sooo late." With that, Alex got out of his seat. The waitress was only a step behind, the bill in her hand. Even as she allowed Alex to take it from her, he was shocked by what he saw. The bill had the listed items, the salad and two orange juices, total and tax, then, right along the bottom, it said, "Paid in full".
Alex showed the bill to Chris, the two of them both looked at the waitress in bewilderment, neither of them had paid the bill before hand, so how? As they looked around the diner, all they could see were the smiling faces of the other customers, some of who, were placing their wallets back in their pockets. These people, these strangers who didn't even know them, had gone out of pocket and paid for their meal. The reasons behind their actions were confusing the two of them; they looked questioningly to the waitress, hoping she would answer their unspoken requests without prodding. The waitress could see their distress plainly and calmed their fears by explaining to them, "We all just wanted to show our support for the two of you; you two looked a little worn out and could use a good meal."
Chris reached into his back pocket for his wallet, a motion that did not go unseen. The waitress gave him a stern look. "You would be offending your host's by trying to pay. Now, I get the feeling that the two of you still have many miles ahead of you before the end of this night, so, I have a nice thermos of good coffee for you at the register, and no arguing on this." Though she was stern, there was compassion in her eyes. Chris tucked his wallet back, giving up on trying to fight a losing battle; besides, the coffee sounded like a good idea, especially since they were already falling behind their schedule. As they walked out, hand in hand, what had just occurred, sent a warm feeling into both of their hearts, that these strangers, who had no reason to accept them, had done so openly, was more than either of them could have dreamed.
The trip was quiet and uneventful as they entered the town, Alex began to fidget in his seat. "What's the matter? I know you haven't been home in a few years, but is it that bad?" Chris asked, the question was boiling in his mind.
"It's not that ... it's just..." Alex started, not sure how to finish.
"Just what?" Chris was about ready to pull over till he got the answers he was wanting but they were already behind. "Come on, Alex, you know you can tell me anything."
"You know how I told you I grew up in a big house ..."Alex paused, not sure how his lover would take the news he knew would come out soon enough; they were only blocks away from his parents’ house and he knew that that would definitely be something he would have to explain. From the sidelong glance he received for his pause, he knew also that he needed to complete his statement. Even as he began to explain, they turned down the private road that led to the driveway to his childhood home. "I kinda may have understated it a weee bit."
Chris pulled to a stop at the gate, looking up at the "house" at the end of the drive, he was stunned. "A weee bit?" He asked, giving his love a quick look before the gate's intercom clicked on.
"Yes?" came a lady's voice. Chris rolled his window down as Alex leaned over to speak.
"Hey, Anita, it's Alex..." Even as he said his name, the gate buzzed and started to open. Before Alex could pull himself back onto his side of the car, Chris pushed him down into his lap and swatted him across the butt sharply. "What was that for?" He asked when he finally got free, sitting quickly so he didn't leave himself open for another assault.
"That," Chris started, "is for not telling me about this." Chris spoke with mock contempt, they both knew that is was a bluff, a mere play between the two of them. Chris slowly drove to the front door. As he parked, he still was in awe looking at the small mansion that lay before him. It looked like something out of a movie; even the fresh snow on the lawn was almost groomed, perfectly flawless. Chris was the first out of the car, he waited for his love to join him before making a move towards the front door, the double oak doors stood, imposingly huge compared to the smaller door to their condo. Alex was chuckling softly as the two of them came to the door, ringing the doorbell.
The huge wooden doors opened slowly at first, as soon as they were open enough, A young Hispanic lady jumped out to hug Alex in her arms, so tightly that it drew the very breath out of him. Finally able to pull in a breath between gasps, his lungs stung from being squeezed so. "Anita, come on, I'm not a kid any more; you have to stop doing that," Alex begged.
"Now, Alex, you know you will always be my lil' brother," Anita teased as she rubbed the top of his head, ruffling his hair as she laughed. She finally stopped, realizing that they were not alone, that Chris, a stranger to her, was standing right next to her. "Oh!" she exclaimed as she released Alex from her grip." I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced. I'm Anita Maria Perez." With that, she reached towards his offered hand, instead of simply taking it, she grabbed it, pulling him into her waiting embrace.
Alex knew how stunned his lover must be, though Chris was not an only child, like he had been growing up, he knew though, that he had been brought up in a family that never showed much in the way of displays of affection. To suddenly have a young lady, a stranger, hugging him in such an emotional embrace was enough to overload him. His body barely showed the tension that Alex's deft insight could see, just subtle hints, yet strong enough that he could see Chris was in trouble.
Anita flushed, embarrassed that she was holding so tightly to someone who felt uncomfortable in her embrace. Pulling away, she turned to Alex again, "Your parents have been waiting for you; I'll go tell them that you have finally arrived." With that, she turned and made her way back into the house, a simple glance back over her shoulder, a smile, was all that she left them with before disappearing back from whence she came, leaving the two of them just outside.
Alex clasped Chris's hand and pulled him lightly towards the door, it was about time that he was introduced to the parents, and Alex really wanted him to feel welcomed. Chris already knew from all the talks they had had together, that he knew that not only did Alex's parents know that he was gay, in a relation with another man, but also accepted and approved of their son's lifestyle. As for himself, he didn't dare tell his family; his father was an ex-marine who had always been very strongly against gay rights. If his father were ever to find out, Chris was afraid of the fight that would ensue.
Alex led his partner into the house, to the left, into the den where his parents were waiting. Chris had seen pictures, but he had never thought that they would dress that fancy in their daily life as well as for portraits. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet my partner, Chris Lowenstein. Chris, these are my parents, Henry Powels and Amanda Powels." Alex introduced his parents to a flushed young man. Chris felt so far out of his element, unsure of how to proceed. Fortunately for him, Alex's mother took the initiative, taking the first step.
Quickly stepping over to him, taking him in her arms. "We are so happy to finally meet you," she stated as she continued to hug the still blushing Chris. Suddenly, she pushed away, holding him at arms length. "You are most welcome here, son."
Now it was Alex's father who made the next move. Stepping over to shake his hand firmly. "You are the first boyfriend that our son has brought home; I hope that this is only the first of many visits." Chris was out of his mind over this; he just couldn't imagine that a family was this accepting. He was just totally speechless, frozen in the moment. Both parents took a step back, wondering what could be wrong with their son’s lover. "Do you think it's something we said?" Mister Powell asked in a whisper to his wife.
"I certainly hope not," Misses Powell whispered back as both of them looked in wonder at the young man before them, both concerned that they had done something wrong. They were both afraid that they may have ruined the chances of their son's happiness inadvertently, something that they dreaded above all else. "We have to make it right," she whispered as they both looked at the still silent Chris standing with a vacant look on his face.
Alex came to his rescue though, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, letting his chin rest on his shoulder. "I think he's just a little overwhelmed is all," he explained to his parents. "You see, Chris's family doesn't know and would probably not be so accepting." Alex hoped that by saying so, his parents would understand that some things weren't so easy to speak of for him as it was for their son. His parents looked at each other as they took in what their son just told them.
As they stumbled through the silence, not knowing how to continue, it was Alex's mother who broke the silence first. "Alex, why didn't you tell us that you were bringing Chris's little brother with you?" she asked sincerely.
The two looked at each other confused. "Mom, what do you mean? Chris is the youngest, he only has a younger sister, not a brother," Alex explained as the two of them looked to her for clarification on why she asked such a question.
"Well, if he's not Chris's younger brother, then who is that climbing out of the back seat?" Misses Powell asked as she pulled the curtain open further, looking out on the driveway. The three men in the room quickly joined her at the window to see out at whom she was referring. Sure enough, there was a young boy, dressed in dirty clothes, pulling a raggedy backpack out of the back seat of Alex's Durango. Alex and Chris gave each other strange looks.
"Did you lock the doors at the diner?" Alex asked in a whisper. When his love shook his head to the negative, they both looked back out the window. "I don't know who that is, Mom; do you still have that security fence?" Alex asked, concerned about what would happen to the boy should he try to climb the fence when he found the gate locked.
"Of course not, I was so terrified that some neighborhood cat would end up getting hurt; no, we got rid of that some time ago," she stated with emotion. "No, we now have two guard dogs." Her last statement gave Alex a fright; he was afraid that the guard dogs might attack and hurt the young boy. Quickly he made his way back out to the front door, the sound of the door opening caused the boy to freeze in place. He stopped in mid-step but only for a moment as he quickly gave up the struggle to free his pack and started to run down the driveway towards the freedom that he hoped he could find.
Alex ran through the snow, chasing after the boy, fearing the sound of two angry attack dogs hearing the youth running from him. "Please! Stop! I'm not going to hurt you!" Alex called out. When the youth came to the gate, he stopped, most likely trying to figure out how best to escape, it was a pause that allowed Alex to catch up to him. Alex grabbed him about the waist, pulling him up and into his protective embrace. "Please, there's nothing to be afraid of." Alex was doing his best to comfort the child who finally stopped struggling in his arms.
Alex judged that the boy must be about ten years old, or at least he thought so. Even at that, he weighed almost nothing for his age. He was far to light for his age and that concerned Alex almost as much as what reasons would cause the boy to hide in his car and steal a ride from them to some unknown place. Since the boy didn't struggle, Alex turned him around in his arms; the boy was so pale, as though he didn't even have the strength to struggle. A chilly breeze crossed Alex's shoulders, shivering he quickly cuddled to boy to him, trying to infuse as much of his warmth into his frail body. He made his way quickly back to the house, met at the door by the three most important people in his life.
"Who is he?" his father asked before he even got past the doorway, a question that earned him a sharp slap on the shoulder from Misses Powell.
"Henry, that can wait, right now he looks half near frozen." Misses Powell stated as she took account of the youth. With a nod, she looked directly into her son’s eyes. "Take him upstairs and get him cleaned up, Alex, there should be something that will fit in your old bedroom." She offered a suggestion. Alex acted as though he had no will of his own, merely followed the requests made of him. He didn't even give a second thought about leaving his boyfriend alone with his parents as he quickly made his way up the stairs. He hadn't lived here in years; it had been more than a few since the last time that he had even visited, yet he knew the house like the back of his hand. He knew the halls so well, he could walk them blindfolded.
Alex was concerned as he took the child into the bathroom, unsure how the boy would react to being helped out of his clothes by a stranger. As Alex pulled on the boy’s stained shirt, pulling it up and over his head, his chest was exposed, there were colorful bruises that showed proof beyond his belief on why the kid had taken such a chance on a stranger’s car. Alex struggled not to burst into tears at the sight of the boy before him, the bruised flesh that was tight over his ribs, so thin that you could count each one. Alex was just as careful in helping him out of his torn and tattered pants, what he wore beneath could scarcely be called underwear, so thin and torn that they barely covered his pale skin.
Naked now, Alex helped the boy into the shower, even as the warm spray fell on him, he still made little action on his own. Alex knelt down on his knees, taking a soft cloth to help wash off the dirt and grime. The boy was non-responsive, like he was stuck in a dream. From the multiple bruises that covered much of his body, it must be a nightmare. Alex spoke softly, in reassuring tones, hoping beyond all else that he could get the boy to tell him at least what his name was if nothing else. As Alex gently brushed away a lock of his soft brown hair, the boy spoke for the first time, a timid voice, barely spoken above a whisper. "Jakop."
Alex stopped, 'Had he just said something?' He asked himself. "Did you just say your name is Jacob?" Alex asked in bewilderment.
"Jakop, my name is Jakop." Once more the boy spoke barely above a whisper, a faint accent that Alex couldn't pin down, definitely foreign but he wasn't sure of where.
"Well, Jakop, can you tell me why you snuck into my car? Why you are running away and who you are running from?" Alex asked, hoping that it wasn't too many questions. The boy didn't say another word. At first Alex thought it was just the shower, but soon he realized, those were tears running down his pale cheeks. The questions had the boy crying, which meant that they touched on a very sore subject that he wasn't ready to confront. A light knock on the door took his attention away from the boy; leaning back, he turned the knob, opening the door a crack. His mother waited just beyond the door, a set of clean clothes in her hand.
"How is he doing?" she asked quietly as she passed the clothes to him. From the concerned look on her son, she knew that there was more that he wished he could say but dared not say anything within earshot of the boy within the room with him. She just gave a knowing nod as she turned and headed back down to talk to her husband, as well as to reassure her son’s lover that all was under control. Placing the clean clothes on the toilet behind him, Alex returned his attention to the boy still unable to clean himself. Alex reached past the boy, turning the water off before reaching for a soft towel. Wrapping the towel about the boy’s slight frame, he lifted him out of the shower, carefully rubbing him, the boy gently placed his hand on Alex's, the first gesture he had made on his own since entering the house.
Without another question, Alex held out a pair of clean underpants for the boy to step into. Jakop placed both hands on Alex's shoulders, using him for support and balance as he lifted first one foot, then the other. As Alex lifted the waist band about the boys far too thin hips, he seemed to fall forward, into Alex. Alex felt the warmth of the tears that he knew the boy needed to shed if he was ever to get over whatever pain kept him silent. Alex wrapped his arms protectively around the boy’s body. Finally Alex gently pushed him away. "Come on, let's finish getting you dressed so we can go back down stairs and let everyone know that you’re okay," Alex said. Jakop merely nodded as he allowed Alex to help him step into a pair of pajama bottoms.
With hands stretched over his head, Alex pulled the pajama top over his head, tugging it gently to his waist. As he smoothed the soft fabric, he noticed for the first time that these were his own pajama's, from when he was the boy’s age. He wondered to himself why his mother had kept them, as well as if he looked this cute when he wore them at that age. With Jakop fully dressed, Alex got to his feet, Jakop reaching up, wanting to be held, to be carried by someone who he felt he could trust, someone who would protect him from all the pain in the world. With a soft smile, Alex lifted the boy into his arms, carrying him out of the bathroom, down stairs, back into the den where the others waited patiently for them. "Everyone, this is Jakop," Alex introduced the boy to the people who had gathered, both his parents, his lover, Anita, and an older gentleman who had joined them. Alex knew him as Joseph; he was the driver and chef for the household.
With a soft smile, Alex lifted the boy into his arms, carrying him out of the bathroom, downstairs, back into the den where the others waited patiently for them. "Everyone, this is Jakop." Alex introduced the boy to the people who had gathered, both his parents, his lover, Anita and an older gentleman who had joined them. Alex knew him as Joseph; he was the driver and chef for the household.
Alex's mother was the first to move, stepping towards her son and the boy that he held. Looking slightly over her shoulder, she said, "Joe, why don't you see if you can scrap up a sandwich or something for this little lost soul; he looks like he hasn't eaten in ages." She specifically asked Joseph, who, with a nod of his head, turned and headed to the kitchen. Stepping next to her son, she saw how the boy tried to hide within the folds of his arms. Gently brushing his hair, she looked into her son's eyes, seeing a compassion in them, a look that reminded her of how her own husband looked at Alex when he was this boy's age.
Leaning on his shoulder, she whispered to her son, "Why don't you take him up to your room and put him to bed, I'll have Joseph take a plate up." With that, she turned to face Anita; "Ann, since their room is going to be taken, would you please make up the spare room for our sons please?" She had no idea how, in two simple words, she had challenged the world to take on a whole new meaning. Chris just stood there, a vacant look on his face as he tried to come to terms with what she had just said. Barely having met him less than an hour ago, and yet she had automatically called him son.
He couldn't believe it; deep down, he knew that had he introduced Alex as his partner, his parents would not have called him their son, no; neither his mother nor step-father—now that his mother had remarried—would have accepted that. They barely liked the idea that the two of them lived together. They had a sort of military view on the subject—a "don't ask don't tell" attitude—whereby he was not supposed to let the public—being anyone who would connect him to them—know that he was in a relationship with another man. As for his real father, even he had no idea where he was; no one in the family had heard from him in the last few years after he left Chris's mother for a younger woman. Often, Chris had felt that his mother blamed him, and that his being gay had driven his father away in shame.
Alex crept back upstairs. The young Jakop was all but asleep in his arms as he pushed open the door to what had always been his own room. The room had changed little by little over the years, bringing memories of his childhood suddenly flooding through his mind. He walked carefully to his bed, freeing one hand to pull back the covers, laying the young boy down and tucking him in. Jakop was nearly asleep before his head hit the pillow. Pulling the blanket up to his chin, Alex patted the boy's chest lightly as he made to turn, about to head out the door, when a small, frail hand stopped him. "Don't go. Don't leave me. Please." It was a plea, a plea not to be left alone in a strange room. Alex could hardly resist such a heart-tugging request.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, the boy's head soon found its way into his lap, as the boy snuggled up against him and fell asleep. The exhaustion overcame him and he was soon fast asleep, his small hand clutching at his pants, not wanting to lose contact with the only thing that held back the nightmares that threatened to assault his sleep. Alex just sat there, carefully soothing the sleeping boy, and gently gliding his hand along the boy's back and shoulders as he cooed him into a restful slumber.
Only looking up, away from his charge, at the sound of the door opening, his mother silently crept in. She bore a plate with a sandwich and a glass of juice, a plate that she placed on the nearby dresser when she saw that the boy wasn't awake to eat. Something more important than hunger had overcome him—sleep. She stepped over to her son, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Let me take over; your beloved needs you right now; the boy will be fine," she whispered, offering to take his place. Alex slipped as quietly as he could from the bed; once free from the boy's gripping hand, he silently made his way back downstairs.
Alex found Chris, fidgeting, in the den, alone with his father. He knew now, why his mother had said that he needed him. He knew that Chris wasn't tight with his family. The ties that he shared with his parents and they with him as well as the rest of the staff, must seem a bit overwhelming to Chris; no wonder he needed his attention, his reassurance that things were okay. Alex moved without a word to sit next to his lover, placing a light hand on his. "How are you handling all of this?" Alex asked, taking Chris's hand in his and bringing it to his lips, kissing those fingers that he loved so dearly. When he envisioned the first meeting between his love and his parents, this was not even close to the top of the list.
Before Chris could even reply to his lover, Mister Powell started towards the two of them. "How is he?" he asked, genuinely concerned about the child.
"He's asleep; totally exhausted," Alex began to explain. Looking up into his father's eyes, he knew that his father was really listening to what he was saying, not just the words, but what lay beneath. "Dad, we need to help him." His words spoke, pleaded, with his father. Mister Powell knew that his son rarely ever called him 'Dad' unless he really needed to talk. Without a word, Mister Powell went over and picked up the phone. He dialed a number and waited for the other side to pick up.
"Adam, this is Henry Powell. I'm going to need you at the office immediately." He started as he left the den, heading for his private study. He left behind a very bewildered Chris, who, on looking at his partner, saw understanding in his lover's eyes. Clearly, his lover knew who Mister Powell was talking to. Left alone, he turned to speak to his partner.
"Who is your dad talking to?" he asked quietly. It was the first question out of his mouth, but not by any means the only question that he had. He desperately needed answers—answers he hoped that his lover could fill him in on.
"Adam Maxwell has been the family lawyer since before I was born. Father goes through him for all of the family's legal needs. Before you ask, I'm not sure exactly why he's talking to him, but I have a pretty good idea." Alex explained before turning away from his lover, leaning back, resting against his lover's strong chest, letting out a deep sigh. 'This has certainly been an eventful day,' he thought to himself, he hadn't even had a chance to tell his parents about losing his job. The realization of that made him sit up quickly, startling his lover.
"What's wrong?" Chris asked with great concern.
"With everything that's happened, I still haven't had a chance to tell my parents about my job." Alex stated with just as much concern in his voice. He knew that now was not the right time; he just hoped that he could get it off his chest before it ate away at him. He wasn't one to keep secrets, especially from his family. All he could do was lean back into the warm body of the man whom he loved, the man whom he hoped he would spend the rest of his life with; perhaps, that was all that he needed.
Alex was drifting at the edge of sleep when his father returned, phone still in hand. "Well, since we have no last name to go on, Adam searched for any runaway or missing children about the same age, with his basic description and came up with nothing so far." He sat down in a seat across from them as he set the phone back in its base.
"So, what does that mean for us?" Alex asked, pulling away from the warmth of Chris's body.
"Well, he's going to stay here, with us, for now at any rate," Mister Powell went on. "Hopefully, we'll get a last name, or something that we can go on to get us closer to understanding what's going on in his life." He leaned forward onto his hands as he spoke, "Why don't the two of you head off to bed? I think the rest can wait till morning. If you are a bit hungry, I'm sure you can always raid the fridge." He winked as he all but commanded the two to bed. Alex smiled at his father; getting up, he reached down, tugging his partners shirt to get him to start standing up on his own.
As they headed towards the stairs, Alex stopped short, Chris walked right into him. "Are you hungry?" Alex asked; it would be simple to head to the kitchen if he were.
Chris snaked his arms around Alex's waist, kissing his bare neck before whispering in his ear, "Yes, but not for anything that we can find in your parents' kitchen." With that, he smacked his lover's butt lightly as the two giggled and started up the stairs. Alex took the lead; he was the one who knew these halls. Takeing his love by the hand, he led him to the spare room where they would be spending their nights. Even as Alex opened the door, he paused. "Something wrong darling?" Chris asked with concern.
"No, nothing; I'm just going to pop in and check on him; I'll be right back, I promise." Alex said. He was pained with the thought that his lover would feel left out or unwanted, that this boy would take his place in his heart. The twinkle in Chris's eyes said otherwise, though, and Alex suddenly felt a upwhelming feeling of love and compassion. He smiled, turned and headed towards his old room. Alex was careful as he opened the door, not wanting the sudden noise to cut through the silence and disturb the sleeping child. Peeking in, he found that his mother was no longer sitting with the child.
Alex crept carefully to the edge of the bed, and looked down on the frail body beneath the heavy blankets. He couldn't help but brush a lock of stray hair from the boy's face. Somehow, seeing this child, so helpless and alone, made his heart cry out; he so wished to do anything and everything within his power to help this child. He knew that his father probably felt the same. The slumbering child sighed in his sleep before once more slipping back into sleep. As much as he wished to stay, to lie next to this child and protect him through the night, he felt that he was needed just as much back in the spare room.
It took every ounce of strength to lift himself from the bed, but he did so without waking the child sleeping there. As he silently closed the door behind him, he noticed that most of the downstairs lights were already off. 'Is it really that late already?' he asked himself as he made his way down to the end of the hall. Chris was waiting, fidgeting at the end of the big bed that had been freshly made for the two of them. Hearing the door open, he looked up, a bit afraid that it would either be Alex's parents or perhaps Anita or Joseph. His spirits were lifted by seeing that it was Alex instead.
Wordlessly, they silently began to undress each other. It wasn't sexual, though there was a strong love between them in doing so; they were simply helping each other get ready for bed. It had been a long day, a day filled with more than they could have imagined earlier that morning. They slipped into bed together, Alex snuggling against his love as the two of them settled in. With one last sigh, Alex fell into Chris's imposing body; the day had worn him far thinner than he cared to admit and he was not one to let things get to him easily; he feared his intuitive mother was not one to miss much, especially something that pertained to her only son.
To Alex, it took hours for him finally to slip into slumber, a slumber that lasted most of the night. Turning towards his lover in the early hours of the morning, he opened his eyes. Chris was resting easily, even if the first impressions with the family were so overwhelming for him. He had expected that, though, from everything he had heard from Chris about his family, at least, when he would talk about his family. He had never said it, but Alex caught the hint that he blamed himself for his parents breaking up those years ago. Hell, the only member of his family that even talked to him was the younger sister, the older one and his two brothers did everything in their power to ignore him, even pretending that he wasn't their real brother.
Alex just lay there, watching the rising and falling of his lover's chest, his left hand slowly moving across that chest, feeling the rhythm of the beating heart within. Alex just lay there, watching the man he loved, sleep beside him. He sighed, pondering what he had done to be blessed with such a wonderful, loving man who truly loved him. His thoughts fluttered back on memories of all the little things that Chris had done over the years that they had been together; the memories eventually flowed to thoughts of the little boy, lying so helpless in his old bed.
Looking at the clock on the dresser that was just on the other side of the bed, he saw that it was still very early, he felt a need deep down to check in on the child, to make sure that he was still sleeping calmly. Alex silently slipped from the bed. Once on his feet, he turned, waiting to make sure that his absence would not wake the man whom he left behind, the one man whom he felt he could leave his heart to. Seeing that Chris was still fast asleep, Alex crept as quietly as he could towards the door; to him, every footstep sounded like an explosion of sound, threatening to wake his beloved from his restful slumber. Slowly, he turned the knob on the door, yet again, hearing it squeal like a car wreck; he peered over his shoulder to make sure that he hadn't disturbed the slumbering form he left behind in the bed.
Seeing that he was the only one awake, he slipped out, closing the door as gently as he could before heading down the hall. He paused at the door to his room, listening to see if he could hear any sound within to tell him if all was fine. Hearing nothing but the nocturnal sounds of the house, he opened the door and peeked within. The boy was still asleep, lying on his side, his hands tucked under his pillow. A feeling flooded through Alex as he watched the sleeping child, a feeling that he had never known; so how could he have missed it? Yet, miss the feeling he did. He missed it so much that he now feared what would happen should the boy be taken from him. He moved without thought to the other side of the bed; pulling the sheets back, he slipped under the covers.
Alex moved carefully to the boy's side; lying down, resting his head on his arm while resting the other across the boy protectively. He just lay there, watching the boy sleep, and enjoying the warmth of the boy's body beneath his arm. It wasn't the same as when he held his lover, there was still a feeling, a very strong one, but this was different. This was a different sense of love, a will to protect, to do anything to spare the child from harm. He drew in a deep breath as the boy mumbled in his sleep, suddenly turning over and pulling in close to Alex's warm body.
Jakop's left hand snaked around Alex's chest as he pulled himself against him. His head rubbed against Alex's chest as he got comfortable and slipped back into dreamland. A single tear fell across Alex's cheek as he took in all of this in one swell swoop; here it was, this strange boy, a boy who had obviously run away from an uncaring home, was cuddling up to him in his sleep. Casually, Alex brushed his hand across the top of the boy's head, feeling the soft, dark hair against his skin. He wondered what his own son would have looked like had he had children with a woman. He and Chris had once talked about a family, about possibly adopting a child had the situation ever come about; now, here was a needing child, fallen in their midst during the holiday season of all times, a little miracle to bring such turmoil and change beyond his imagining.
All Alex could think of, was how much he wanted the child, wanted him to be a permanent part of his life. He was pretty sure that his parents had similar ideas, why else had his father been talking to Adam in the middle of the night. It all fit; he wouldn't be surprised at all if adoption papers weren't already in the works. He knew that gay adoptions weren't against the law, though in many places the people and churches were fighting to make it so. He knew it wouldn't be easy, not in the least, but he was willing to fight, to fight for this feeling, this compassion and love that he felt growing in him for this child. The feeling of the small child against his chest was so soothing, that Alex soon found that he could barely keep his eyes open; soon, he drifted back to sleep.
It was an early seven in the morning. Amanda woke to see about getting the day started; she was sure that after last night, her son and his lover arriving to spend the holidays with them, things would be a little more hectic than usual. Then there was that boy; she stopped in the middle of the hall. 'Yes,' she thought to herself, 'I'll just pop in and check and see how he's doing.' She moved quietly to the door, and as the door opened, she looked into the room that had been empty for far too long; the sight she saw nearly took her breath away. A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked in awe at the two slumbering forms in the bed. Years ago, when Alex was just a young teenager, she had often dreamed of seeing him come home for the Christmas holiday, home with a son of his own. Now, as she looked into his room, that dream seemed to have come true, at least in part.
As silently as she came in, she slipped out, returning to her bed quickly so that she could wake her husband, shaking him sharply to get him roused. With a yawn, he looked at the clock and noticed that it was earlier than she normally did; surely something was going on. Sitting up, he stretched his arms. "Okay, now why don't you tell me what made you wake me early?" he asked, blinking back the sleep still dangeling at the corners of his eyes.
As she tugged at the edge of his sleeves, Amanda shushed him. "Just come with me and be quiet!" The emphasis on the last word cut him short. He barely had time to slip into his slippers before being pulled towards their bedroom door. He tried to talk, to ask what was sooo important that she woke him more than an hour early and now dragged him down the hall ruthlessly. The two of them moved quickly and quietly down the hall, stopping in front of their son's bedroom door. Henry knew then that something must have brought her back to their room if she had dragged him to this door. Amanda turned silently to her husband, and placed a gentle hand across his lips as she motioned for him to open the door.
The door opened silently, shedding a bit of light on the room beyond. His breath was taken away by the sight that he saw, seeing their son, lying there in bed with that child. Only in his dreams had he ever seen such a sight, a sight that he knew both of them had fondly dreamed of over the years. A warm smile worked it's way across his lips as he slipped away from the door, closing it silently as he turned to take his wife in a warm hug. In the years since their son had come out to them as a teen, it seemed like it would only be that, a dream, they knew it was wrong to hope or believe that he would have a son of his own. This wasn't the same, but it certainly was close enough to bring a warmth to their hearts.
Seeing that smile on her husband's face as he exited their son's room, she knew that he felt the same way about what they had seen within that room. "Darling, we have to do something." She pleaded, hoping that her husband had an idea on how to solve the unspoken problem that she knew would plague the family. Laying her hands on his chest, she leaned into him, listening to his heart beating beneath her ear. He sighed deeply, wrapping his arms around his love and held her tight as he tried to arrange all of his thoughts, so many, so confused; he had so much to try and sort out and it seemed like time would be against them.
"I called Adam Maxwell last night." Mister Powell threw the statement out in order for his wife to understand just how fully he was committed to the situation. "Granted, without a last name to go on, it's not going to be easy, but he already started a statewide search with the basic description of the boy and, of course, his first name. I wouldn't be surprised to hear from him sometime around eightish," he stated with a bit of a grin. He grew up with Adam; they had even been friends in college for a time before they had gone their own ways in their study's. They never lost touch with each other and as soon as Adam had his budding career started at the legal firm, Henry made the first connection. All his legal matters always went through Adam, and not just out of loyalty, for Adam was very good at what he did.
"Let's go see if Joseph has the morning coffee started yet," he suggested to his wife before kissing the top of her forehead and taking her hand; the two started towards the stairs. Each had their heads full, swimming with thoughts, ideas, and concerns for the day and what it could bring for them. As they entered the kitchen, Anita was seated on a stool against the counter, sipping her own cup of coffee while reading a paper; she looked up and was surprised to see the both of them. Misses Powell would usually come in about this time, but always alone. She greeted both with a smile as she returned to her paper. With the two of them awake so early, Joseph started on an early breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast.
Chris woke to an empty bed, still groggy from sleep; his first thoughts were of home, of the condo the two shared, as he listened for the familiar sounds of a nearby shower. As he stumbled out of bed, bumping into a chair that should not have been there, his eyes adjusted to the dark, unfamiliar room. His mind snapped back into action, retelling him that he wasn't at home; it wasn't his bedroom. Suddenly overcome with concern, he asked himself, 'Where is Alex? Where is my lover?' his mind screamed; he almost fell apart in terror. He opened the door to the room, just enough to sneak a peek into the hallway; after seeing that it was empty, he listened to see if he could hear anything, anything that might tell him where Alex was or at least if there was anyone else awake.
Even as he strained his ears, he still couldn't make out any sounds; feeling a bit bold, he stepped out of the room, still in only his briefs, walking of eggshells as it were, he snuck across the hall, trying to remember which door had led to the room that the boy had been put to bed in, he was pretty sure that that was where he would find his caring lover. After a few wrong choices, one a bathroom, the other a linen closet, he opened a door and peeked within, he smiled as he saw his love, in bed, and the young dark-haired boy was cuddled up against him. Without a second thought, Chris slipped across the carpeted floor to stand at the edge of the bed, looking down at the two angels sleeping before him.
Carefully, so as not to wake either angel, he slipped under the covers, snuggling up behind the child, laying his right hand across the two of them. Chris closed his eyes, able to tell the two bodies before him. As sleep overtook him once again, he fell into a whole new kind of sleep. It was different than when he fell asleep with Alex in his arms, it was a deep feeling but a good feeling. As he drifted off, he felt something he couldn't quit understand. He dove deep into himself, searching back through his memories, trying to find where the feeling was coming from. Swimming past the many years of his youth, his childhood, he found a memory, buried deep.
His mind replayed a nearly long-lost time; he was barely four. He had woken in the middle the night from a nightmare, crying out. His mother had come to sit at the edge of his bed, to sooth him. In the end, he was invited to sleep in his parents' bed, cuddled in the shared warmth of both of his parents. 'Yes,' He thought to himself, 'This is what I am feeling, this sense of love and family.' Instinctively, he drew both bodies towards him, within his arms. This was something that he missed, he didn't know when he'd lost the feeling, nor how long it had been lost. All he knew was, it was not just a new feeling, but an old feeling that had been found once more, and he didn't want to lose the feeling … at any cost.
Amanda sat at the table, sipping her coffee, wondering what was keeping her son. Lowering her cup, she looked up, over to Anita, who noticed the glance and got to her feet and took a step towards her. Seeing Misses Powell looking towards the stairs, she silently understood what was asked without words. With a simple nod of her head, she headed towards the front hall, towards the stairs. Wordlessly going upstairs to see about rousing the two sleeping adults who were being missed. Nothing had been mentioned to her on where she would find either of the two young men; her first stop was at the spare room, where she assumed she would find both of them, still asleep and in bed.
Finding an empty bed and an empty room, she closed the door, wondering where she would find them. Without a second thought, there really weren't that many choices. She made her way to Alex's old room. She had been just a teen when she had first come there, hired to help clean around the house after school. Mister and Misses Powel both knew that she needed the money, not for herself, but for her family. They had been good to her, all three of them. It wasn't more than a month into her employment that she was told that they needed to talk to her, alone. They asked for her to meet them in the den, she was shaking with hidden terror as she opened the double doors, terrified that she was going to be let go.
'What did I do wrong? What didn't I do that I should have?' she asked herself before knocking on the wooden doors. Her knees were shaking, threatening to give out on her.
"Come in," came the stern voice from beyond those doors. She opened the doors and walked solemnly in, afraid of what was going to happen next. She couldn't see Alex, just the backs of both Mister and Misses Powell, turned away from her. Without turning to face her, Mister Powell spoke again. "It seems that you have stolen something from us, something that can't be replaced at any price."
Hearing this, Anita froze, turning pale with fear. 'What could he be talking about?' She feared what she was being accused of; how was she going to prove her innocence to these rich people? Misses Powell was the first to turn to look into her fearful face; her own concern caused her to touch her husband's shoulder. Seeing his wife's concerned face, he turned to face his employee. Anita tried to put words to her emotions, to figure out some way to beg their understanding, to plead her innocence to them in what she thought would be a vain attempt. Even as the words stuck in her throat, she was stumped even more when both of the adults facing her broke out in smiles and Mister Powell even chuckled lightly.
Anita was stumped, unable to bring herself to speak, the jolt of something bumping into her backside caused her, finally, to make a move into the den. Turning, she found Joseph, the only other employee still working at the house, pushing a serving cart, with Alex right there beside him. Both of them had similar smiles on their faces. She was more than stumped … she was confused. "What's going on?" she asked, not sure who to, just wanting to have someone explain to her what was happening right then and there. She nearly jumped out of her shoes when a hand lay on her turned shoulder, scaring her nearly to death; she turned to see that it was her boss, Mister Powell.
With his hand still on her shoulder, he explained himself to her more clearly. "When I said you had stolen something from us that could never be replaced, I was referring to our hearts." Even as he said it, Anita couldn't understand what he could possibly be talking about. "In the weeks that you have been here, you have come to be more than just a maid or housekeeper. You have become a friend to our son, and a member of our family." With that, he turned her to face the serving cart. Joseph lifted the silver cover, revealing a beautiful cake beneath. Written in blue, were the words, "Happy Birthday, Anita."
She was stunned, "How did you find out?" she asked silently to the room, a tear forming at the edge of her eyes. She never would have believed that her boss would have found out that today wasn't just another work day to her, but her sixteenth birthday. Her family weren't able to do much for her; money was scarce, and she told them that she didn't want them to make a show of it. "It's just another day," she'd told them before leaving for work earlier that morning. In all her time working with this family, she had become attached to them, especially to their young son. Even with the six years difference between the two of them, she felt like he was a younger brother, not someone she worked for.
That day had been the last time that she thought of herself as their employee; after she dried her tears, smiled and then was nearly killed in a big bear hug from Mister Powell, she gave up the thought of them as work and understood that "they" thought of her as more than that; they thought of her as family. From that moment on, she felt like family, that she could be a part of theirs as well as her own, a feeling that she still carried for them even now, years later.
Gently, she pushed open the unlocked door as those past memories swirled in her head; she peeked in and saw the three of them sleeping in that bed. At one time, it had seemed so huge when a young Alex had slept in it alone; now, with two grown men cuddling with a young boy between them, though there was barely any room left, the bed seemed to be just the right size.
As much as she was enjoying seeing the young man who had sprung from the boy whom she cared for like her own brother, sleeping there with that innocent child and the man that had finally won Alex's heart, she knew that they had to wake soon; there were things that had to happen, especially considering the boy. As quietly as she could, she walked to the opposite side of the bed, leaning down and kissing her "brother" on the cheek. "Time to wake up, Tiger," she whispered in his ear, using the nick-name that she had given him years ago. As she stood back up, she noticed a smile creeping across his face as he snuggled deeper into his sleep.
Anita placed both hands on her hips. 'This will not do,' she thought to herself as she tried to come up with a way to wake him without disturbing the boy sandwiched between them.
With an evil glint in her eye, she leant back down to whisper in his ear. "If you don't get out of bed this very instant, I'm going to show your boyfriend the dreaded backstreet boys video," she threatened. It was a threat that made Alex's eyes flash wide open. Not only had he heard her words, but the connection to what she had said had stirred deep and hidden memories. He looked straight up into her face. At one time he had thought that she was something of an angel, but now he saw her, the truth came from behind that evil grin of hers. He still loved her like the older sister whom he had come to consider her, over the years that she had been in the household.
Squinting his eyes at her with mock anger, he softly said, "I hate you!" He pretended that he actually meant those words, even though they both knew he didn't as she pretended to swat at him.
"Oh, you know you love me," she retorted before starting towards the door to head back down to start on the rest of her duties. Even if he were on holiday, she was still working, though she had given up considering them as work years ago. Nearly to the door, she quickly looked back over her shoulder. "You might want to think about a shower before coming down for breakfast," she suggested before exiting, closing the door behind her. She paused once she closed the door, allowing what she had done to pass. She truly did love Alex like he was a brother, even if she did pick on him from time to time. With an evil grin on her face, she closed the door behind her as she turned and headed down to continue her morning duties.
Alex struggled to get out of bed. He was trying his best not to wake either of his two companions. As his bare feet hit the floor, he pulled them up so sharply that he feared that the bed moved and would wake the others. Slowly, he cautiously placed his feet back to the floor, steadying himself from the chill that had startled him. He never worried in his condo about freezing floors. Had it been so long that he had forgotten how cold the floors in his room could be in the winter? He took in a sharp breath as the chill returned to him, reminding him that his toes did not like the treatment at all. With a silent chuckle, he walked quietly to the door that led into his private bathroom.
Whether it was the loss of his lover's presence or the sounds of the off-key singing, something woke Chris from his dreams. He still felt a warmth pressed against him, opening his eyes, he found a small head of dark hair before him. He smiled, snuggling against the small child, wiggling closer to the sleeping child in his arms. He turned his head, looking to see if he could figure out where his missing lover was. He saw the light coming from the partly opened door, hearing the singing coming from beyond, along with the sounds of running water from a shower. He smiled more. He carefully pulled free of the little body huddled before him, rolling to his other side and lowering his feet to the floor. Chris sucked in a lungful of air as the cold of the floor attacked his feet.
Walking on tiptoes, he slipped over to the bathroom door, and pushed it open just enough to slip inside. With a smile, he listened to his lover, singing off-key to some song, he wasn't sure which song. He laughed to himself, thinking, 'Yep, Simon would kick him off the show.' As he opened the fogged-up glass door to the shower, Alex instinctively turned away from the door, hands quickly covering, protectively, his privates, which made Chris laugh all the more. "You know, with a voice like that, you definitely aren't going to make it on American Idol," Chris joked.
Alex turned, grabbing his lover and pulling his naked body under the steamy stream from the shower head. "Don't make me hurt you," Alex stated sternly as he then pressed his body against his love and kissed him passionately. His hands were across Chris's back, moving slowly lower. As erotic and arousing as it was, his mind had other things to think of; he knew that it was getting late, and his parents probably were already waiting for them to come down for breakfast. He'd rather not have them come looking. Sensing that he wasn't the only one affected by the close contact, he laid his head on his lover's shoulder and sighed deeply.
"Gods… I can't wait to get home," he murmured his deep wish; it was going to be a long visit, and he just hoped that the next week would fly by uneventfully. His thoughts flew back to the little boy still asleep in his bed. 'If I know my dad at all, there isn't anything he wouldn't do to help that kid,' he told himself silently before reaching and turning off the water. Drying each other was perhaps one of the most difficult things they had had to do in their entire relationship—no fooling around, and no playing or flirting. If not for the fact that he knew that it was well worth it, he would give up such closeness if it meant helping that little boy.
They both dressed quickly, moving through the room as quietly as they could. Alex closed the door behind them, taking one last peek to make sure the boy was still sound asleep. Sure of it, he turned and took his lover's hand in his own; a wide smile lit his face as the two made their way downstairs. Chris let Alex lead the way. Being guided through the house, he looked at the pictures, tiny mementos, reminders of Alex's childhood. Deep down, Chris wished that he could have shared in some of those memories. "Good morning, Mom, Dad." Alex's statement brought Chris back to where he was and out of the daydreams he was caught up in. The two seated themselves at the table, joining Alex's parents. "Where's Anita?" he asked, both curious and scared of the answer.
"I think she said something about getting a movie to show Chris or something," Mister Powell said as he continued reading his morning paper. He sipped a bit more on his orange juice before folding the paper and placing it at his side. Before he could say another word, the phone rang. Missess Powell was the one to pick up.
"Why, good morning, Adam … Yes, he's right here." She handed the receiver to her husband. The room fell instantly quiet.
"Here, let me put you on speaker so that we can all listen." With that, Mister Powell placed the phone down. "Now, why don't you tell the others what you already told me?" With that, everyone held their breath, waiting to hear what was to be said.
"Well, good morning. As I was saying, even with the limited information that I had to go on last night, I did come across something of interest," Adam Maxwel started. Then he continued. "There was a call to a police station two nights ago of a missing child, no report was filed. The child, one Jakop MyrKesh, was reported as a possible runaway by his mother, who failed to leave her name. The call was traced back to a pay phone, officers asked around the neighborhood, but no one seemed to know of any MyrKesh family or their son Jakop."
Alex turned to his lover, a sense of pain and fear threatened to devour his soul. Chris pulled him close to comfort him as they turned back to continue listening. "Do you have any good news for us?" Mister Powell asked.
"Well, the good news is, without any parents to step forward, I am hopeful to have temporary guardianship filed and granted by the end of the day. All I need, is to know what name to file the paperwork under?" Adams question hung in the air between the four listening adults. Each looking, questioningly, at each other.
"Adam, file the papers under Alex Powell and Chris Lowenstein. I'll deal with all the legal repercussions." Alex's father knew all too well what those repercussions could be; he was ready, though, ready to fight whatever war came at them with this action.
Alex loved his parents—he always had—but never more than he did at that moment.
"No, sir...." Adam started, his statement caused Mister Powell to grab the phone up to nearly take off Adams head with words, if not for the fact that Adam was a step faster. "As I was about to say, sir, WE will deal with the repercussions." And with that, he stopped Mister Powell in his tracks, the phone still in a strangle hold as he just stared at it, speechless. "If I have any problems, Sir, I'll call to keep you up to date on the situation. For now, though, have a great day, Sir." And with that, Adam hung up, going about whatever needed his direct attention.
Amanda was the first to talk, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "I think someone should go up and check in on our little guest; it might be a bit of a shock for him to wake up alone in a strange room." She left her statement hanging, allowing her son to excuse himself.
"I'll go," he said as he got to his feet. Chris grabbed at his hand as he moved away. "It's okay, I'll be right back." Alex leaned down and kissed his lover on the cheek. As much as Chris felt out of his element, even now, after they called him a son, he still didn't feel that he totally belonged, not without Alex right there, at his side. Alex moved, as if still in a dream, through the halls, up the stairs, to the door to his old room. He slowly opened the door, looking inside, he saw that the boy was still asleep in his old bed. Silently, he crossed the open distance between him and the edge of the bed. He sat down lightly, his hand flowed out, gently stroking the hair on the boy's head.
The sudden sensation was enough to wake the boy from his slumber. His eyes flashed open, seeing a strange room, the night past, a vague memory to him. He pulled away in fear, afraid of what would come next. All the terror, the fear, the emotions that he had bottled up, deep down inside, came rushing to the front, exploding from him in a crashing wave. He curled up into a ball, tears streaming from his eyes as the last few days events came crashing in on him. He wasn't ready, not at all, not for everything he suddenly had to remember and deal with. Alex moved quickly, reaching out and taking hold of the boy, pulling him into a deep, protective embrace. He rocked the boy back and forth, cooing softly to him.
"It's okay," he spoke softly. "Everything's going to be fine. You're safe here, we won't let anything bad happen to you ever again, I promise." He continued rocking back and forth, helping the boy settle down enough to talk. The sound of the bedroom door opening caused Alex to peek over his shoulder to see who was there, it happened to be his mother. She was more concerned now, after hearing her son and seeing the panicked look on the boy, but she knew that her son was more than handling it. She didn't want to intrude, so she waited patiently for the boy to calm down a bit before speaking.
"Your father suggested that you, Chris, and I should go into town and see about getting some new clothes for young Jakop." She spoke with a gentleness that Alex remembered from his own childhood, fond memories of all the years that he had growing up in this same room, this house. Looking down on the boy, he saw something of himself there; save for the darker hair, he could have been a twin for him at that age. His father was right, though; he would need some clothes if they were going to be taking care of him for awhile. With a silent nod to his mother, she pulled back, closing the door behind her. She made her way down the stairs, down to where Chris was waiting, anxious to hear what had taken place. Placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, she told him, "He's doing just fine. Let him help Jakop get dressed before you seek him out."
With a kiss on the cheek, she left him at the base of the stairs. He smiled before heading up to the spare room. He really needed to change, wearing the same clothes that he had arrived in to breakfast was one thing, but to go shopping with his lover's mother, that was something else entirely. As he stood before the closed door to the room, he looked down the hall to where he knew his love was; there was a pull, a yearning to be with Alex, but he knew that this wasn't the time for that right now, there were other things that had to be dealt with first, important things that needed to be carefully handled. As he entered the room, he started to wonder, 'What to wear?'
Alex was slow and careful in helping the boy from the bed, not wanting to rush him too much, the boy had a lot to deal with. He yearned to ask more, to ask who he was, where he came from and why he was here, a runaway. So many questions, he knew this wasn't the time to ask them, even as much as he wanted to know the answers. He knew that these answers had to come at the boy's pace, when he was ready to tell them. Alex left him, sitting alone at the edge of the bed, as he made his way to the nearby dresser and opened the familiar drawers. Fumbling through the clothes to find something that he felt not only would fit, but would look good on the boy. He would hold up a shirt, pondering how it would look before returning it to the drawer and sorting through for something else.
"Hmm, yes, this shirt," Alex said before going to another drawer to search for a good matching pair of jeans that would fit. Soon, his fashion sense had a good selection in hand as he turned back to his ward. "Let's try these on and see if they fit?" It was more a question than a statement, as he moved back towards the bed with clothes in hand. Jakop even had a hint of a smile on his lips as he held his hands up for Alex to remove the pajama top that he was still wearing. Alex pulled the top only half way off before suddenly attacking the boys unprotected belly, tickling him into a fit of giggles. The two fell beside each other on the bed, Jakop still trying to stop laughing.
Alex took in a deep breath, for a brief moment, he thought to himself, 'This must be what it feels like to be a father.' It was only a passing thought, broken by a knock at the door. Alex barely had time to turn towards the door before it opened and the face of his beloved peek around it.
"Uhm, your mother said you were supposed to be getting him dressed, not playing." Chris said with mock sternness, playing it up that he had caught the two of them at play when they were thought to be doing something serious, like getting dressed to go shopping.
Alex and Jakop looked at each other, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, Alex motioned with his head. The two of them moved almost as one, grabbing the pillows on the bed and throwing them at Chris with laughter. "Oh, so that's how you're going to play it, huh?" Chris exclaimed as he rushed the two of them, pushing them backwards on the bed as he ruthlessly started tickling his love.
Missess Powell was the one who finally broke the tickling match up, walking into the room to see the three of them going at each other. Clearing her throat, the three culprits stopped in mid-strike. Their eyes suddenly glued on Alex's mother as she just stood there watching them. "Well, seeing as how you have so much energy, I suspect that the three of you can be dressed and ready to go in five minutes." With that said, she turned and walked calmly from the room. As soon as the door closed, she heard the giggles of all three young men she left behind. She smiled to herself, 'This is going to be the best Christmas ever,' She thought to herself as she made her way down to the front door to wait for them.
She left behind three blank faces, until suddenly, all three burst out laughing until their sides hurt. "Come on, let's go down before she comes back up here after us again," Alex suggested as he helped Chris to his feet, pulling him into a quick kiss, forgetting for a moment that they were not alone in the room. The two suddenly looked over, expecting to see a very startled and disgusted young boy, instead they saw a face of a child who saw only love in that kiss. Seeing the two men gaping at him, Jakop got up on the edge of the bed and leaped at the two of them laughing as they caught him in his fall. With a few more giggles, they were dressed and stumbling down the stairs.
The three young men tried desperately not to laugh in the car while they rode to the mall. For the most part, it worked, if not for vague remarks dropped by either Chris or Alex that would send all three into giggles. Amanda just shook her head, silently, she was giggling as well, but dared not let them know it. How would it look for the parent in the car to be laughing at their silliness? As they pulled into the parking lot, turning the car off in a decent spot near one of the large entrances, she turned off the engine and turned to the three passengers.
"Okay, we have most of the day but that doesn't mean that I want to waste time running all over the place." She gave her son a stern look that made him drop his smile and pretend to salute her militantly. She tried not to laugh at his comical action, it didn't work all that well, as she broke out in a smile. "We are here…" she started, making a point of looking at her two sons, "…to get Jakop some clothes to wear while he's with us; that does not mean, however, that that is all we will be buying. I have some last minute shopping to do, if you two get what I am saying." Her hint was as subtle as a nuclear bomb, both young men understood that they should find an excuse to go off singly to do some holiday shopping for the boy so that he could be a true part of their holiday celebrations.
Nothing more was said; they merrily got out and walked to the entrance. It was a fight between the two as to who would hold the door for her, each taking either side of the double door, bowing with flare to try and show off for her. In the end, she bypassed them both when Jakop opened a single door just past where the two of them were standing. "At least one man here knows how to treat a lady," Amanda said as she used the door that the boy held open for her; she had an evil grin on her face as she passed both young men, leaving them to follow behind. With that, they both gave up the idea of besting each other; today would be about Jakop; they were just there for appearances, nothing more.
Missess Powell lead them to a nice clothing store, going directly to the boys section, she began looking through their selection of shirts and jeans to see what they had that she actually liked. It really wouldn't matter what she bought; anything within this store would be many times better than the rags that Jakop had been wearing when he first stumbled into the family; never, in all his life, had anyone spent a quarter of the money required for just one pair of jeans on him. He was in awe, stunned that he was going to be able to wear new clothes, clothes that came directly from a store and hadn't been worn by someone else first. As she sorted through the clothes that she wanted Jakop to try on, she flipped them over Alex' and Chris's arms, using them as sorting racks for the possible clothes to be tried on and possibly returned rather than purchased.
Both young men had their arms strewn with tons of shirts, jeans, and other apparel. "Now, why don't the two of you go and help him try those on while I check on shoes?" Missess Powell suggested, waving her two sons off while she turned her attention to other matters. She didn't pay much attention to her surroundings as she searched for a nice pair of shoes. She was a shrewd customer, not just going for the cheapest pair, nor the most expensive. She knew a bargain but was also willing to pay the little extra for quality. As she was examining a pair of possible shoes, a lady that knew her from church saw her and decided to pay her respects on such a chilly morning.
"Why, hello there, Missess Powell; I didn't expect to see you shopping in the kids department. Are you shopping for a charity perhaps?" the lady asked, far too curious for Amanda's taste, but she had to be polite.
"No, I'm here with my son and his partner, shopping for a young boy that will be staying with us over the holidays." She was nonchalant as she continued to look at shoes.
"Partner is it? Such a shame; I thought you raised your son better than to bring his business home, especially over the holidays." The lady's snide remark hit a cord with Missess Powel; she didn't like the accusation that statement insinuated.
"No, they aren't business partners, they're domestic partners." she retorted as she turned to look at another selection of shoes before deciding on a pair she thought would work well with most of what she planned to purchase.
"You mean your son is gay?" The shock in that question was plain to hear, as was the look on the lady's face as Missess Powell looked directly at her. There was more than shock on that face, though; there was disgust. Amanda had never really taken a liking to the lady, not at church or elsewhere. Now, she really didn't think she would like the woman.
Seeing her son bringing Jakop out of the changing room, a pile of clothes still strung over his arm, Amanda said, "Excuse me, please." With that, she moved over to where her son waited. "I think we've had enough of this store," she stated bluntly, seeing Chris comeing towards them. Hoping that she could leave the woman behind, she hurried them to the checkout lines.
The clerk worked furiously to scan everything as quickly as he could, the shopping spree adding up with each shirt and jeans. The woman was not to be dismissed, coming up behind them to say her piece: "A man shall not lie with another man as one would with a woman..." she started preaching. Alex and Chris both became concerned; they hadn't even considered the possibility of persecution during their Christmas stay, now, it was raging before them. The woman continued to preach the "sin" of homosexuality, drawing the attention of staff and customer alike.
"How much do I owe you?" Missess Powell asked, in a rush to get away from the vile woman and her assault of words.
Before the clerk could answer, the store manager came up behind him, taking the receipt in hand, taking it away from the man that worked for him. "Nothing. You have been a valued customer for many years Missess Powell, please take these with my best wishes and my deepest regrets for how you have been treated in my store, I hope that you will not hold one woman's vendetta against this store." The manager had overheard the whole affair and had stepped in, not only as a manager, but as a local parent.
"You would cater to these ... these disgusting perverts?" The woman demanded, furious that her words were not calling up the righteous to stand beside her in the attack. In her mind's eye, she was trying to defend the innocent and pure people of this town from the corrupt sinners of the vile cult of homosexuals that now had taken the son of one of the most prominent families.
The store manager turned sharply to face her, "Madam, I suggest that you shut up now or, by God, I will bear witness in court against you on charges of verbal assault and harassment, as well as slander. I believe you have finished shopping here; good day, madam." With that, the manager turned his back to her, not paying another moment's attention to her as he headed back to his office to do the work that he had to do.
The last he heard of the woman before closing his door behind him, was her exclamation of, "Well! I never!" After saying that, the woman stormed out of the store and the mall entirely. With hands firmly clenched at her hips, she made up her mind, 'If these ignorant fools wish to allow such perversion, then it's up to me to make sure that this is stopped now, before they try and corrupt and exploit the rest of our young!' She was sure that she was in the right as she stormed away.
Missess Powell Walked briskly out of the store, into the inner hallways of the mall. She said not a word as she walked without turning her head either to the left or right, just looking ahead of her, walking with some purpose. Who knows where she would have walked, if not for the sounds of a grumbling tummy at her side. Aghast at her actions, she suddenly realized, they had left without allowing the poor boy a chance to eat! How terribly unkind of her! She was mortified; how careless of her. Kneeling down, she hugged the hungry boy to her, "I am soooo sorry; in my rush to get us all on our way this morning, I completely forgot that you haven't eaten a single bite this morning. Why don't we find somewhere to rectify that?" she suggested as she stood back up, allowing him to set the pace as they made their way to the food court
When they finally found a table, she turned, seeing for the first time that the two young men whom she had in tow, were heavily laden with bags; she laughed to herself at how they looked. Less like her sons and more like underpaid servants. Turning back to Jakop, she asked, "What would you like to eat, dear?" And then she waited for him to reply.
He looked so cute as he looked about, seeing what was available. He settled on a breakfast sandwich from a Subway express with a chilled mini bottle of chocolate milk. As soon as he sat down, the sandwich was gone so fast, she thought he must have inhaled it without even chewing, gulping down the milk. She feared that he thought that if he didn't eat fast, the food would be taken away from him before he could have a chance.
"Now boys, While Jakop and I rest here and allow his food to settle, why don't the two of you go off and do whatever shopping you need." Missess Powell suggested, with a slight nod of her head, indicating that they should take this chance to go and buy the young boy something personally for a Christmas gift. It wasn't all false; she did want to rest there with Jakop. She hoped that she could win some trust from him to get some more information on who he really was, but she knew not to push too hard, though.
Alex and Chris all but raced off; they had some ideas in their heads on what to get poor Jakop, they decided, once they were out of ear shot, that rather than try and split up, they would stay together. "All we need is for both of us to accidentally get the same gifts because we didn't know what the other got him," Chris stated. Both of them agreed, that would be a bad thing. Misses Powell already had handled the clothing issue, for the most part, anyway. No, they weren't going to "ruin" the boys' holiday with a gift of underwear and socks. They knew right away to head to the nearest toy shop. As it happened, there was a Build-a-Bear Workshop in the mall, which provided them an opportunity to each make a special toy for young Jakop.
Chris looked at the shelves, filled, brimming with cute and adorable teddy bears and stuffed animals. As he looked them all over, he found a leopard sitting on one of the shelves. When he looked at it, his heart was hooked. As he searched through the racks of outfits for the toy, he found his eyes wandering across a karate uniform. 'That would be so cool!' he told himself as he pulled the package from its hook. He caught the eyes of one of the attendants, who came over to help him finish off his purchase.
As they moved over to where the toy would be filled with the cotton stuffing, the attendant asked a few questions. When he asked, "Would you like to add sound to this leopard?" Chris stopped, pondering what he would say and nodded his head. He saw out of the corner of his eye, that Alex was still rummaging through for his selection. Chris was impressed, he had passed by their local B-a-B. but had never thought to go in, seeing too many screaming, fighting children. This store, however, was very calm and peaceful; he might just have to come back on his own and get another stuffed animal done up for him to give Alex come Christmas morning. With that thought in mind, he thought what he would get as he watched curiously as the toy was finished. He was asked to make a ten-second recording; it would be the message the stuffed cat would say every time it would be hugged.
Alex watched as he noticed his love had already not only decided on which animal to buy, but the entire outfit as well. "So I'm a bit pickier than him; it just means that it takes me a bit longer to make the perfect stuffed toy,' he told himself. He decided on a more traditional teddy bear in a nice pale body blue. While looking through the outfits, he noticed that they had pajamas that you could get, a matching set for the child and the toy. The sight of it made him smile and he looked through them before making his selection and moved through the store towards where he could see his love was still being helped. As he got near, both Chris and the attendant noticed his approach.
"Did you decide on one, sir?" the attendant asked, reaching out to take the selected toy to put together. "Would you also like to add sound to your bear sir?" He seemed to suspect that the two were more than just friends, the way they glanced at each other. He could sense the emotional bond; they looked nothing alike, so they weren't brothers, at least; they weren't likely to be brothers but they still could be. 'No,' He thought to himself as he watched them looking at each other, when he noticed their hands touching, he knew he was right. Without asking, he placed each toy in a separate box, tucking them in with packaging tissue and sealing the box before wrapping them both in bright Christmas paper. After topping each with a bow, he turned quickly and handed them their purchased gifts. "Have a Merry Christmas," he said with a huge smile.
As the two of them walked out of the store together, Chris leaned over. "Was he just flirting with the both of us?" he asked in a whisper, bringing a chuckle from his lover.
"No, he's straight," Alex commented.
"How do you know? I think he was; I think he was flirting with both of us." Chris was a bit more forceful that time with his comment.
Alex almost lost it. "Trust me; he's straight." Alex continued walking and without glancing back he continued to say, "I know, he's married to one of my best friends from high school; she had me help her pick the settings for the reception." Alex's comment caught Chris off guard, there were still things about his lover's life that he didn't know and he truly wanted to know everything. Of course, he was also afraid of knowing too much; he didn't know if he could handle hearing about Alex's old boyfriends, crushes, or flings. As he thought more about it, he realized, it didn't really matter; he wasn't in love with who Alex may have been, nor did he love him for whom he knew. No, he loved Alex for who he was and that was enough. On their way back to the food court, they pulled into a few other stores to pick out a few more gifts.
Try as he might, Chris couldn't get Alex to divulge what he had recorded for the bear's message. "I'm not going to ruin the surprise; you'll just have to wait till Christmas morning," Alex stated, sticking out his tongue childishly as he finished saying it, making Chris laugh. They found Alex's mother, still sitting at the same table with young Jakop. They were both smiling, laughing. As they came closer, they saw that they were both enjoying an eggnog milkshake, immersing themselves in the spirit of the holidays. They were greeted warmly; it warmed both of their hearts to see Jakop, not only smiling, but in high spirits. It was a good trip, even if only to see him happy. "May I have a taste?" Alex asked nicely. Jakop took the spoon he was using and lifted it, filled with a heaping glob of ice cream and whipped cream, and lifted it towards Alex's waiting, open mouth.
In anticipation of the savory taste of the milkshake, Alex had closed his eyes. By doing so, it gave Chris an evil idea. Without waiting, he leaned over, using a finger to scoop up a bit of whipped cream from Jakop's spoon and quickly swiped it on Alex's nose. Alex nearly fell out of his chair as he opened his eye's in shock. Blinking, he faced the three laughing faces. Jakop pointed quickly to Chris, "'Twas him, not me," he said between bouts of giggles.
Alex squinted his eyes a bit; "Oh, it was, was it?" he asked, not really needing an answer. With that, he swiped his finger across the top of his mother's milkshake, getting a good size hunk of ice cream and whipped topping, motioning, threateningly, at Chris. He tried getting in a position so that he could smear it across his love's face, all the while being defended off. Their antics made the other two laugh all the more. Chris was rescued by the ring of a cell phone. Misses Powell reached into her pocket, bringing her cell out and quickly answering it.
Bringing it to her ear, she answered, "Hello?" The three young men couldn't hear the reply on the other end, but by the sudden change of her expression, they knew it wasn't good. "Of course; we're heading there right now." With that, she hung up and quickly placed it back in her pocket. Lifting her gaze, she talked to the three of them, though making eye contact specifically with her son. "We need to get home... things have come up..." She was vague, but her inflection and tone said enough about how serious it was. As Chris took the bags in his arms, taking what he could handle on his own, Alex helped Jakop put his new coat on, one arm at a time.
There was little time between the call and them leaving the mall, on the ride back to the house, there was not a word spoken, not about the call, and not anything else for that matter. The atmosphere in the car was so thick with unspoken tension that you could have cut it with a spoon. Misses Powell didn't even have to reach for the gate remote; it opened on its own, someone inside the house having been watching the monitor for their approach. Anita was waiting at the front door, quickly leaping into action, helping a overloaded Chris with the bundles of gifts that they had just bought.
"Mister Powell is in the den, waiting for you ma'am," she spoke, letting her know before she could ask. Joseph was just inside the door, his arms quickly snatching bags from Alex' and Chris' arms. With a silent nod of his head, he indicated that they should follow Misses Powell into the den. As Jakop tried to go to them, Anita took his hand in her own. "Could you help me place these in the great room? Maybe after that, we can check the kitchen and see if there are any of Joseph's famous cookies around," she diverted his attention away from the den. He was still in a good mood from having one of the best days in far too long, allowing her to lead him towards the other side of the huge house, a house he still hadn't seen and was somewhat curious about.
Mister Powell waited patiently, standing with his arm draped dramatically on the mantle. Alex closed the doors behind him and Chris, turning to hear what was so important that his father had called them home so urgently. From the concerned look on his face, he knew it had to be something big. "Now, dear, why don't you start with repeating what you told me, seeing as how the boys weren't privy to listening in?" Amanda suggested. Then she made herself somewhat more comfortable on a lounge, allowing her husband to take over.
Turning to look at his son, he started at the beginning. "Well, as I told your mother over the phone, Adam called with more information."
"What did he find out, Dad?" Alex interrupted, not willing to wait for the information that he knew must be of great importance.
Henry cleared his throat. "Well, it seems that he was able to locate the boy's father. Child services were notified immediately and they notified the father." That was all he could get out before being interrupted yet again by his eager son.
Alex stepped quickly towards his mother, "What does this mean? What's going to happen to Jakop?" There was true fear and concern in his voice. The thought of losing the child, the boy who had stumbled into their lives less than a day ago, dragged him so deeply into despair that he wished it weren't true.
"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do," Mister Powell stated. He, too, felt strongly over this turn of events, wishing that there was something he could do to prevent this from coming about.
Misses Powell was out of her seat, quickly going to her husband, her hand gently, reassuringly resting on his. "Is there nothing we can do?" she begged, hoping for some spark of hope, even a vague chance was better than nothing.
"I'm afraid not; a CPS worker is on her way over to pick up the boy. He will be in their custody until his father can pick him up tomorrow." There was so much pain in his voice; Alex thought that he must surely be almost ready to cry.
"What about Jakop? I mean, there had to be a reason he was running away." Chris jumped to the boy's defense. He may not be a legal member of the family, but he was just as emotional and concerned over Jakop's welfare as they were.
Misses Powell turned to face the two young men. Seeing her son, standing next to the man he loved, she felt so overwhelmingly proud of him. He had chosen well indeed. "I'll go talk to Jakop." She said it as more of a suggestion rather than a statement of intent. She silently left the three men to talk; if she knew her son at all, he would beg his father to intervene as soon as the doors closed behind her, she wasn't off mark, hearing him through the door before stepping away. She sighed with a smile, 'Yep, that's my boy,' she thought to herself before heading towards the great room. Her smile faded quickly though; 'How am I going to break it to that poor boy?' she asked herself.
Alex's head was swimming with thoughts, doubts on how fair or unfair life could be. He was at the brink of breaking down and crying, something he hadn't done since he was barely older than Jakop. 'No,' he told himself, 'I can't! I have to be strong for Jakop's sake if nothing else!' He steeled his mind for whatever might come. He looked to his father for guidance, support, anything that he could do to help in the matter, surely, if anyone could figure a way to help the boy, to keep him in their lives, his father was the one to do it.
"No! No! No!" came the screams from beyond the closed doors. Jakop was in tears, screaming at the top of his lungs after being told that he had to leave, that he would be taken to a temporary location until his father could come and get him. His cries hit Alex like a ton of bricks; he started to sag, to collapse to the floor at his feet. If not for the quick reaction of Chris, his lover, he would surely have fallen completely. Chris moved quickly, grabbing him about the waist and helping him to a chair. Chris wrapped his arms tightly around his lover, hugging him as close as he could bear. He knew that it was hard for Alex to breathe freely but that the closeness was what he needed; he felt Alex bury his face into his chest, clawing at his shirt as hot tears fell from his tightly closed eyes.
Mister Powell moved to try and comfort his son as well, to place a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. He tried to think of words of comfort, of something he could say to help steady his son during the crisis. Before he could speak, though, the phone rang. Henry quickly picked it up, his throat so tight with sorrow and grief that he squeaked a bit as he answered. "Hello?" He asked as he placed the receiver to his ear. "Yes, Adam, the boy is still here; why?" Mister Powell's question got the attention of both young men; they each looked up to him curiously. "Yes ... yes ... Thank you!" With such emotion, he nearly slammed the phone down, and then twirled in circles with his hands stretched wide.
Chris and Alex looked at each other, puzzled by Henry's actions. "Dad?" Alex asked, hoping that it would get a reply to satisfy the both of them. Seeing his dad stop, a huge grin on his face, he asked, "What's going on?" He was eager to hear what could have made his father act that way.
"Adam has convinced Child Services to hold a hearing tomorrow afternoon, to see if placing the boy back with his father is in the child's best interest." He smiled as he said it, but then his smile faded a bit. "The only thing is ... they are still taking him to a temporary home for the night." His eyes saddened, Mister Powell hoped that that last bit didn't depress his son all the more. He was pleased to see a smile cross his son's face, replacing the frown that had been there moments before.
"That's great news, Dad," Alex said with a smile, reaching, suddenly, out at his lover's face, turning him to face him directly and planting a big, passionate kiss on his full lips. Chris said nothing, merely blinking in wonderment over the sudden display of affection in front of the father-figure. Chris didn't know how to respond, whether to be upset or overjoyed. "Did you hear that? Tomorrow, we get to bring him home." Alex leaped to his feet, running over to hug his father strongly.
Mister Powell frowned, pushing his son away to look him sternly in the face, "I just want you to prepare yourself; the judge may rule against us. They may decide that the boy is best placed back in his father's care. All we can do, is hope for the best. For now, though, you need to go and reassure him, let him know that we are here and that we will do everything we can for him." With that, he turned his son and pushed him towards the door, urging him to do what needed to be done to settle the boy down. Alex found Jakop, crying into his folded arms under the dining room table.
"Can I join you?" Alex asked quietly. Jakop nodded and moved over to make room. Alex hadn't hidden under a table in years, as he hunched over, bumping his head and then shoulders, he realized one reason why that was—he was just too big to hide. He lay an arm on Jakop's shoulders, which was quickly shaken off. Alex tried again, this time, not letting his arm be brushed away so easily. "Listen, Jakop, I know that you don't want to go..." Alex started, "…but, it's only going to be for one night. Tomorrow, I promise, you will be right back here, with us, sneaking some of Joseph's cookies no doubt." His last comment brought a chuckle, which was quickly forced down.
There was then a knock at the front door, Alex turned to look, knowing that it had to be the social worker that had come for Jakop. Deep down, he wished that he could hide Jakop, keep him hidden and safe, but he knew that if he did, it would only make matters worse, even impossible. Alex held out his open hand, waiting for Jakop to take it before scooting out from under the table. "I give you my word, it's only going to be one night; then you can come home with us," He promised as he led the still sniffling boy towards the front of the house.
They were greeted at the door by two ladies, one kneeling down to talk to Jakop, eye to eye. "Hello, Jakop, my name is Maryann; would you like to come with me?" she asked nicely, offering her hand for him to take. Jakop looked up into Alex's eyes, silently asking if it were all right. Alex nodded, holding back his own tears, making a show of how 'strong' he was for Jakop's benefit. Maryann and Jakop were soon out the door, closing it behind them. The other woman made no attempt at leaving, even as the sound of the motor starting outside signaled that the other woman was ready to leave.
"Why don't we sit in here?" Alex's mom suggested, motioning with a free hand towards the overly used den. When the lady moved to follow, Alex was perplexed; he had no idea what could be going on. When his dad guided him to follow, a gentle hand on his shoulder, he entered the den wondering what was about to take place. The lady made herself comfortable in one of the lounge chairs. She had no tablet, no pen or pencil to write with. She did not attempt to pull some kind of recording device from her purse, which she set on the floor at her feet.
When everyone was seated, the lady began asking questions. "So, Mister Powell, what do you do for a living?" When Alex's dad didn't respond, he looked up, wondering why his father hadn't answered briskly, only to find their eyes looking him down.
"What, me?" Alex asked in his defense. "I'm sorry, I thought you were asking my father. I don't usually get called Mister Powell in this house." Alex's comment pulled a laugh from the lady as she settled back into her chair more comfortably. "Well, I worked at a brokerage firm that..." Alex started to explain before being interrupted.
"Worked? I assume then, that you are currently unemployed?" the lady asked. Her question made Alex feel so guilty, especially when he looked at his parents' shocked faces.
"Alex was recently released from his employment when he refused to work over his vacation for this holiday season," Chris defended his love, stepping to his lover's side when he said such, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"I see, and you would be?" The lady was cross-examining them, as if they were on trial for some heinous crime.
Chris opened his mouth to defend himself from her onslaught, only to be beat to the punch by Misses Powell, "His name is Chris, and he is my other son." Her statement made Chris feel so proud of himself right then and there.
Two harsh hours later, the doors to the den finally reopened. Anita quickly made herself scarce; there would be time for her to ask her own questions of Misses Powell later, over a nice cup of coffee. She listened, just out of sight. "Thank you for stopping by. Have a good evening," Misses Powell said politely as she held the door for the lady as she left, finally. Amanda gave a sigh of relief; granted, the questions had been tough at first, even harsh or vindictive, but, she was sure that by the end of the first hour, the lady was on their side in this matter.
She noted that her son and his lover did not look so confident. She smiled as she crossed the hallway to where they had just exited the den. Hugging the two of them together, she reassured them with a kiss on each of their cheeks. "Why don't the two of you grab something to eat and then get to bed early; we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." She lovingly ruffled her son's hair as she stepped back from the two of them. As they went off to get something to eat, she re-entered the den, seeing her husband still mulling over the events that had just come to pass. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she placed her chin down on his shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts."
Henry smiled slightly at his wife; letting out a deep sigh, he held her tight to him. "What are we in for?" he asked. He looked down at the hands that he now had clasped in his own; they were not as young as they had been when they first met so many years ago. Now look at them, proud parents of a handsome young man. What were they thinking? Could they really win this? What were they setting their son up for? He could already see the emotional attachment that his son was forming. Was it a good thing? To let this continue? As he thought about the moment when Alex, their one and only son, came "out" to them, afraid that they would restrain their love from him.
On that night, they had told him that they would be there for him, loving, caring, no matter what. How hypocritical would it be, now, suddenly to try to hide him from the world? No, they would fight, to the bitter end if that is what would happen. They were his parents; he would need them, there was no doubt of that. 'No, wait; they will need us,' he reminded himself. They had welcomed Chris into their home, into their lives, that meant that he was their son as well. He had to admit, he was rather proud of Chris, of how he had jumped to defend his love when he felt that he had been threatened. Of all of the possible men for his son to bring home as a lover, he approved of this one whole-heartedly.
After finally being free to spend some free time with the love of his life, Alex felt like nothing more than curling up and hiding from the rest of the world. He couldn't even eat the sandwich that he had grabbed on their way through the kitchen. Now, just the two of them, up in their room, Alex collapsed on the bed, Chris could tell that he was but a moment away from a full breakdown. He moved quietly, to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and sooth him. At his touch, Alex turned and collapsed in his lover's embrace and began to weep. Releasing all the emotions that were welling up inside of him. He clawed at Chris's shoulders as he wept tears of anguish and sorrow, fear and pain.
Alex cried till he had no more tears in him to release. Sighing into his lover's chest, he just wanted to hide from the world, to fade into nothingness. Chris was there, to be his strength when he felt so weak. Chris rocked back and forth, stroking his lover's back. As much as Alex had released, Chris felt just as much but knew that he had to be the strong one. "Everything's going to be all right, you'll see," he whispered, hoping that it would help lift Alex's spirits. "Tomorrow, we'll see him again and bring him home." Chris's words helped settle the mood in the room, though Alex still didn't feel like eating, even when Chris mentioned that starving himself wouldn't help Jakop in the least.
The silence of the house was broken by the phone. Anita was the one to answer, immediately handing it to Misses Powell. As her husband came into the room to find out who was on the phone with her, Amanda nearly fell to her knees, they just went weak, giving out beneath her. Henry rushed to his wife's side, fearful of her being hurt from the collapse. She nearly dropped the phone from her hand, Henry grabbed it, bringing it to his ear as he asked if anyone was still there, hearing nothing but static, he hung up the phone and turned to his pale wife. Kneeling beside his wife, "Honey, are you okay? " he asked.
Misses Powell finally looked up from her blank state. "He's missing," she stated plainly. Her statement caused her husband to step back, confused about the whole conversation. Looking into her husband's eyes, Amanda got to her feet, suddenly grabbing him, pulling herself into his chest. "Jakop is missing. That was the C.P.S. worker calling to ask if he had shown up here." As Henry moved to hold his wife, he could feel her body begin to shake. Mister Powell just held his wife, comforting and soothing her as best he could. He wanted to ask more, to ask the questions that he needed answers to, but he wasn't going to push her, not with how bad the news was affecting her emotionally.
Finally believing that it was okay for him to ask her those questions, the phone rang again. Amanda looked at the vile contraption, fearing what new news would be delivered once answered. Seeing her hesitance, Mister Powell reached for the receiver and brought it to his ear, "Good evening," he answered. Though he didn't show it physically, she could tell that his emotions were heightened. "What does this mean for us Adam?" His question at least let her know who it was he was talking to. Henry sat down on a lounge, bringing his wife down to sit next to him. "Yes, of course; if you hear anything more, please, call us." With that, he hung up and looked towards his questioning wife.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Amanda could take it no longer, nearly leaping out of her seat at her husband. "Are you going to tell me what Adam had to say?" she begged her husband to spill it.
With a deep sigh, Mister Powell sat down in a chair next to his wife. "Adam wanted us to know the latest about the boy. It seems that the boy's father had been sighted in the neighborhood. The police have an all-points bulletin out on him and the car," he explained with softness in his voice.
Amanda gasped at the news, "So, what does this mean for us? For the boys? What about the hearing tomorrow?" She was filled with questions. She feared those questions and the answers they called for.
Henry reached out with his right hand, laying it lightly on his wife's. With a deep sigh he said, "Adam isn't sure what this means for us, or what it means for the boys, all three of them. He is sure, though, that we still have to show up at court. He thinks that with the events of this evening, we are a shoe-in to win." He had a smile as he spoke, allowing his wife to know that he had high hopes for a true miracle. Looking towards the door, he pondered before speaking. "Do you think we should tell the boys?" he asked.
Amanda thought it over in her head, weighing the good and bad. "No, let them have tonight. They need their rest. If we tell them all of this, they will simply stay up all night, worrying about every little thing. No, it's best they stay ignorant of this ... for now." As she finished, she gave a knowing nod of her head. She knew the boys would be devastated, once they learned all that had gone on without their knowing, but it truly was for the best. They wouldn't try to lie to them, just, forestall the inevitable by not telling them the whole truth, should they be asked.
It took Alex hours to finally fall asleep, even snuggled up in his lover's arms, he just didn't feel right; here he was, in a home, with the people that cared for him most, and yet, that boy was now probably having to sleep on a couch or cot in some strange house with who knows how many strange kids. How could he feel comfortable with those thoughts on his mind. Chris must have been able to sense those thoughts as he soothed them away with a slight brush of his hand, lightly playing with a stray lock of hair that constantly tried to cover Alex's eyes.
"Everything's going to be fine, Alex; you'll see," Chris said calmly, hoping to reassure his love with his warm words. Seeing that his words were having the desired effect, he held his love closer still. Alex gave a huge sigh, as if releasing his breath would let out all the fears that he had built up inside. The tension seemed to flow from him and he settled into a restful slumber. Alex closed his eyes, resting his head across Chris's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat; it was a reassuring sound to him. Soon, his own heart slowed to match that of his lover's.
As Alex slept, he dreamed of the boy; he dreamed that Jakop came running into the house, ran into his waiting arms and hugged him. His dreams were filled with make-believe memories, the life he hoped to share with the young child. There were birthdays and holidays; he even dreamed of helping his straight son through puberty and the terrors of high school. In his dreams, he faced his son's friends who had to overcome the bigotry of their parents when they would be introduced to Jakop's two fathers. He felt the sorrow of his son coming home with a bloody nose from fighting at school and the surge of pride that his son stood up against a bully who tried to pick on an effeminate boy.
It was so strange that in one night, Alex had all but lived a lifetime of raising a child who wasn't yet even his to raise. As he watched his son, waiting at the end of the aisle for his bride, he felt the warm tears of joy, beaming with pride at how his son had turned out. He felt the gentle, reassuring pressure of his lover's hand on his shoulder; his own hand instinctively moved to cover it. "Alex, it's time to get up." And with that, he was shaken from his dream world. He rolled onto his back, yawning as he looked at the ceiling. He realized that it had all been a dream, just a delightful dream. He beamed with a huge smile.
Alex yawned again as he stretched at the side of the bed. He just wanted to linger, to enjoy the fresh memories in his mind of his night's dreams, memories that suddenly shatter under the sharp pain that interrupted his life. Turning sharply, he looked into those devilish eyes, eyes that gleamed with guilty pleasure. Chris just smiled at him as he pulled away, not even hiding the offending hand that had slapped him so sharply across the cheek. Seeing his love escaping, he squinted his eyes into an evil glare. "You are sooo going to get it later," he threatened as Chris slipped out of the room, into the adjacent bathroom to take a quick shower.
After a few moments, Alex smiled wickedly as he moved silently to the bathroom; moving to the sink, he quickly turned on the hot water. The sudden, shrill cry from within the shower made Alex smile with evil glee. Quickly the glass shower door opened as Chris reached out for his lover; for a brief moment he had plans of horrible things to do to him. Of course, he would never actually do them … tell Alex that he would, maybe, but never actually do them. Alex had enough time to turn off the sink before being dragged into the shower, still in his bed clothes. Alex fell against the wall of the shower with both of them laughing together.
Downstairs, Mister and Misses Powell were both enjoying a cup of coffee; Henry was reading his paper as always. When the phone rang, Anita was the one to answer, quickly holding it to her breast as she called for Mister Powell. "It's Mister Maxwell, sir; he says that it's urgent that he talk to you."
Henry quickly took the phone, "Yes, Adam; what's so important that you call this early?" he asked as he looked at the clock on the wall. It was still a few hours before the office, let alone the courts, opened for the day. He nearly fell to his knees. "Yes, of course, we'll get there as soon as we can; good bye." As soon as he hung up, he turned to his wife. She looked at him, yearning to know what he had heard that was so important. He took in a deep breath before spilling it all.
"Good news, very good news. The police found Jakop and his father. Of course, the bad news is that the father is now under arrest. Adam says that, after Jakop ran away, for reasons that he has no idea about, the father got upset and took his frustration out on the mother. She is in a hospital, in critical condition. Because of this, he thinks that we have a good chance at keeping him," Henry stated. With yet another sigh, he said, "Our case has been bumped up the docket, we now are the first case to be seen this morning. This means that we have..." As he spoke, he checked the clock once more,"…less than half an hour, before we have to be on the road to the court house if we are going to get there in time."
Without a word, Misses Powell got to her feet, leaving her now empty cup on the table. With purpose, she made her way from the room, up the stairs to knock on her sons' door. When there was no reply, she opened the door just a crack, calling in, "Boys?" She called out, "Boys??" She could hear the faint sounds of the shower running; seeing that there wasn't one of them in the room, math dictated that if one wasn't in the room, then obviously, both of them had to be in the shower. 'Well, I knew this had to go on.' She told herself. With a shake of her head, she moved over to the bathroom door, which, wasn't completely closed She sighed before pressing the door open just a tad more.
"Boys!" She waited, from the sounds of sudden shock; she knew they had just realized that they had left the door open and unlocked. She did her motherly best to ignore the whispers of two guilty young men, getting caught in the act of whatever it might be that they were doing. "You two need to hurry; we have to leave in short order," she stated. As she was turning to leave, she saw her son's soppying wet clothes on the floor. "I also suggest that you deal with your laundry before we leave; I may be your mother, but that doesn't mean that I will be keeping up after you. You both are old enough to do so on your own."
At the base of the stairs, she was met by her husband. "Where are the boys?" he asked of her, looking up in an attempt to see if they were on their way down even as he spoke.
"They will be down soon enough," she said, reassuring him. She gently took him by the hand and led him back to the kitchen and to their waiting coffee cups. It seemed as if they had barely gotten a refill of their cups before Alex and Chris joined them. "I assume that the clothes arrived in their proper locations." It was more a statement than a question. A statement that brought a questioning glance from her husband and a set of perfect blushes on the faces of her two sons. She was nearly bursting trying to hide the laughter that was building inside of her.
They had only a brief breakfast, for the boys' sake, since they had to spend so much time getting ready. They left only after reassuring Anita that they would call as soon as they were out of court. "We will be home for dinner, all of us. Whatever it takes, we will be home with all three boys." After hearing that, Anita's face brightened considerably. The drive to the court house was the most silent drive any of them had ever had, the mood was so solemn. As they pulled up in front of the huge stone building, Adam was waiting on the steps for them, quickly crossing the distance to meet them as they exited the car. Adam grabbed Amanda by the hand as he climbed out of the front seat, accompanying her up the steps, the three men tagging along close behind.
Entering the court house, they made their way quickly down the side corridor to the court room they would be in that very morning. The bailiff stopped them. "I'm sorry, but it's a closed court today," he announced to them as he held out his arm to stop them in their tracks.
Adam stepped forth, "We have business with the court. My name is Adam Maxwell, and these are my clients." With that, he motioned towards those with him. The bailiff nodded his head, stepping aside and opening the door to let them in. The room was almost totally empty, empty save for a few court officials and a clerk. And a few others that the group wasn't too sure of. What troubled them most though, was a face they did recognize, the face of the lady from the mall. Adam moved with purpose, taking his position behind one of two tables set up for them. Turning to face his clients he informed them of what was to happen. "Once our case is called, I will present our request and then the judge will make a decision. It shouldn't take more than a half hour or so." He was very sure of himself.
When the court clerk rose to her feet, everyone's attention focused on her. "All rise. The honorable Judge Rilley, presiding." With that, a side door opened and the judge for the court made his way into the room, taking his seat. "First case to be heard, The Powell's versus the State." The judge looked at the files before him before motioning for the clerk to get on with it. "You may be seated." And with that, everyone took their seats.
"You may state your case," the judge offered, making a waving motion with the back of his hand, not even bothering to look up as he continued to sort through the paperwork before him.
"Your Honor," Adam started as he got to his feet to address the judge formally; "I am here on behalf of my clients, the Powells. We are petitioning for custody, guardianship, and eventual adoption of the youth, Jakop MyrKesh. We submit to the court that such placement would be in the child's best interest."
"What of the State's position?" the judge asked, still not raising his head from the papers before him as he listened casually to the conversation.
"Your Honor, the State contests this action. We will prove that the home of the Powells is unsuitable for the raising of the child. We regret that the child's only relative, his father, is unable to be present at this time," The opposing council began, before being interrupted.
"Yes, by being in police custody for the assault on the child's mother," Adam interjected. "Your Honor, please, the Powells are a well established and respected family in this community, what cause does the opposition have to claim that they are unfit to raise this child?" Adam demanded.
Before the lawyer could respond, the lady sitting in the court room stood up, pointing an accusing finger at where Alex and Chris sat with the parents. "Those two perverts are child molesters, vile, wicked, heathen filth that shall burn forever in the fires of hell!" The lady ranted on, over the sound of the judge's gavel, pounding as he called for order.
"Madam, I will not ask you again, there will be order in my court. Another outburst and I will hold you in contempt and have you removed." So emotionally pressed by her outcome and lack of respect for the law, he had actually had to stand to get her attention. Sitting once more, "You may respond to his request now, Council; what proof do you have to uphold your claim?"
"Your Honor, the papers filed, are filed under the names of Alexander Powell the third and one Chris Lowenstein. It is public knowledge that these two men are, in fact, homosexuals..."
The lawyer was unable to finish whatever he was about to say as Adam objected strongly. "Your Honor. My clients' sexual orientation is not the subject of this hearing. We are here to decide the fate of a young boy, a boy who needs the support of a strong family." Adam was emotional; he didn't approve of anyone using the "sex" card to win an argument.
Once more, the woman stood to explode with her words of hate, "You see! That's how they get you, how they corrupt our young! They will pervert and molest that young boy if we don't put a stop to it! We should have them all placed in prison!" She ranted off as the judge once more tried calling for order, even the Council hung his head over her actions. "They always plead about 'Equal rights'; they don't have rights. We have to put a stop to their wickedness, now, before we all get condemned to burn, just like they will..." She never got to finish as the bailiff came to escort her out of the court after a nod from the judge. "Let go of me; take your hands off of me! You're all sympathizers; you will all burn in hell, the whole lot of you!" she raved as she was dragged off.
Once the door closed behind her, the court was yet covered in dead silence. "Now that we finally have order in here, I suggest we get on with the facts of this case." The judge stated as he took his seat once more. He was already upset that this was taking far longer than it should have, at face value.
"Your honor," Adam started to make a point; "May I ask, are you married, sir?"
His question seemed off topic, but the judge answered nevertheless. "Yes, I am, but I don't see..." The judge didn't finish his statement.
"To a woman I presume?" he continued asking.
"Yes, to a woman. I don't see the point to this line of questions, so I suggest you get to it and quickly." He was getting a bit irate at the moment.
"You are right, Your Honor; your sexuality and private life are inconsequential in the matter of this case." Adam made the subtle point, a point that the judge took to heart as he continued to listen. "No, the matter at hand is about the welfare of a small boy, a runaway who hid in my clients' vehicle, and when found, tried to flee. He was taken in, shown hospitality. Given a hot shower and clean clothes. I can call witnesses to state that the boy was found wearing torn, filthy rags. That the boy was covered in multiple bruises, some old, others fresh. Before my opposition can object, I have here, the signed statements of a physician who saw to the boy when he was brought in by child services last night." With that, he handed the court clerk two files of copied paperwork.
The judge paged through the folder placed before him. Included in the file where documented photos taken during the physical exam. The judge was appalled by what he saw, the multiple bruises that colored the boy's body. He shook his head in disbelief; he hated cases like this, to see how someone could so mistreat a defenseless child. The case weighed heavily on him. Each side had heavy power waiting to be called to bare should the need come. He dreaded the case. Finally he decided on a delay tactic. "I wish to speak with the child, in my chambers and in private," he stated, seeing the State's lawyer open his mouth to object, he stopped him before he could, "That is my final word. Court is adjourned until this afternoon." With a sharp rap of his gavel, he rose to his feet, taking the papers with him as he made his way to his chambers.
Adam turned to face the worried looks that plunged down upon him, "What does this mean?" "What will he decide?" "Is there anything we can do?" The questions came pouring down on him. He gave them his most reassuring look of confidence. "It's all up to the judge now." He stated as he placed a hand on Amanda's shoulder. Looking her in the eye, he smiled, "No matter what, we will not stop fighting until that boy is back in the home that he deserves." His statement only weakly comforted the sorrowful four; they were too worried over the "What if's" to feel lighthearted.
Inside his chambers, he was no longer "Your Honor" but merely another human being. Judge Rilley sat at his desk, rubbing absent mindedly at his temples with one hand. Of all the cases he had ever had to rule on, this was by far one of the hardest and most controversial. As he looked at each side, he could see that each would take a stand against his decision, no matter for which side he choose in favor. He continued pondering his action on this case when the door to his chamber opened. "Young Mister MyrKesh to see you, Sir," his clerk spoke softly as he led in the shaking boy.
"Good," Judge Rilley stated, motioning with one hand towards a chair, "Please, take a seat, son." He saw that Jakop was ill at ease, and that he had the look of a deer caught in headlights. Judge Rilley tried his best not to laugh, even though it seemed humorous to him. He wanted to get out from behind his desk, to sit next to the youth; inwardly though, he knew that that would only scare him more. Instead, he sighed and started to talk. "I know you're a bit confused about all that's going on, being in strange places and all. I want you to feel comfortable, like you can trust me and talk with me."
As much as he tried, Jakop just couldn't relax. In the last few days, so much had happened that he had no idea what to expect next. He was still afraid, waiting for his father to suddenly walk through the door to take him back home. His tension and apprehension was visible to any looking upon him. There was a needy look in his eyes, a want to trust, yet also, a fear of the consequences, should he trust the wrong person, yet again.
"Why don't you start by telling me why you ran away from home?" the judge asked, hoping that he could break through the hard shell the kid was building around himself. He knew these were going to be tough questions for Jakop to answer, but if he didn't ask them, he feared the boy would draw back into himself so much, that no one would ever be able to reach him again. Judge Rilley waited patiently for the boy to start. The silence was broken, though, not by the boy, but by the phone ringing. "Yes?" he asked into the receiver. "I see ... thank you for such prompt information." With that, he hung up. Looking sorrowfully at the youth before him, he got out from his chair, coming around the huge wooden desk to place a light hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid that your mother died in the hospital."
Jakop collapsed after hearing that, sliding from the chair in which he was seated. Judge Rilley called for assistance; he also called for Alex Powell and Chris Lowenstein to be brought to his chambers immediately. The nurse was finishing up with taking vitals when the two young men arrived at the chamber door. At first glance they noticed nothing of great interest, that is, until they saw the still slumped form being treated by the female nurse. Alex nearly jumped across the space between them and Jakop, quickly kneeling down, taking the boy's hand in his own. Alex's face went pale at the thought of something bad happening to the child before him. Chris was only a step behind him; his eyes started to water as tears threatened to rain down his cheeks.
"What happened?" Chris asked quietly.
"I was just informed that Misses MyrKesh, the child's mother, passed away from her injuries," the judge informed them, speaking just barely loud enough for them to hear, in hopes that repeating that message wouldn't further traumatize the youth, sending him even further into his near comatose state. In that one moment, seeing how both Alex and Chris has instantly responded to the needs of the young boy, the Judge had the answers to all the questions that he had. It no longer mattered about the oppositions, about how the public would react to the ruling. No, this case wasn't about them; it was about a small boy who needed a good home.
Wordlessly, he went to his desk and formalized the paperwork, having it signed and notarized, filed with the officials. He asked that Mister and Misses Powell come before him as well, to let them join the two young men that they were instantly proud of when they saw the two of them soothing a still frightened child. They were startled at first, until they saw the reassuring look on the judge's face. He gave them the formal copy of the paperwork, they were stunned. Not only did it name the two young men as guardians, but officially adopted Jakop, renamed Jacob. Seeing the boy's new first name was of little surprise; it was a more English spelling of his name. No, what made Amanda gasp was that the paperwork officially renamed him Jacob Powell.
Misses Powell snapped her attention to the judge; was she really reading these papers correctly? Seeing the warm, kindly smile on his face, she knew that she had. "Come along, dear; let's take our boys home." Mister Powell suggested in a light whisper as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her towards the three. The thought of being able to call all three of them 'her boys' made Amanda smile to herself. As they touched their sons on their shoulders, motioning wordlessly and seeing the confused looks they returned fade away when they saw the judge smiling back at them when they gave him a questioning glance. Chris acted promptly by sweeping Jacob into his strong arms and hugging him tightly to himself as he cried a few tears of joy.
Judge Rilley watched with pride as the family he had just helped to create walked from his chambers. He sat back down at his desk, reaching out to pick up a cheap picture frame that held his dearest possession, a photo of his wife and three kids. Placing it down, he paged his clerk assistant, "Yes, Your Honor?" the young man asked as he entered the room to find his boss, looking out the windows at the town beyond. Judge Rilley turned, looking across his shoulders with a smile.
"There's nothing left on the books that needs to be attended to today. Why don't you go ahead and call it a day?" he offered, seeing his clerk smile broadly back. Today was the last work day before the holiday season; it was Christmas soon enough and, save for emergencies, they were done for the next week and a half. Turning, he reached and opened a drawer. From within, he produced a tan envelope with holiday scrollwork printed on it. "Merry Christmas, Steve," he said warmly as he handed the man who had, over the years, become a good friend. Steve accepted the envelope, pulling out the card within.
As he read, he smiled at the humor; opening it, he found a pile of tickets, carefully placed within. Looking up, slightly confused, he removed the tickets to find that they were travel passes for him and his entire family. He was stunned, "I ... I don't know what to say," he stammered, "This is too much; I couldn't..." he stuttered as he tried to return the expensive flight passes.
"You don't have to say anything; well, 'Merry Christmas' might be a good start," Judge Rilley joked. He had come to the perfect gift for his friend after hearing how they would be spending the holidays at home; they could ill afford the expense of heading to Steve's parents, to spend it with his entire family. It made for the perfect gift. Without another word, the judge came around from behind his desk where he had been standing, taking his friend in a warm embrace. Pounding his hand on Steve's back and then holding him at arms' length. "Now, why don't you call your dear wife and tell her to start packing. Then, get yourself home?" he commanded. His employee was still on the clock, officially that is.
Mister Powell drove the lot of them home; his wife snaked her hand across to his, holding it as she smiled warmly; her family, cuddling in the back seat. It would be a happy holiday for them all, she just knew it. Anita and Joseph were both waiting at the front door when they arrived, both overjoyed to see young Jacob as he leaped from the car as soon as the door had opened. He bounced into Anita's welcoming arms as she lifted him into a big hug. Joseph surprised them all when he took both Jacob and Anita in a huge hug at the same time; he wasn't one for such public displays.
As Jacob was escorted into the house, Alex and Chris followed close after, hand in hand, leaving the parents standing near the car. They watched proudly as their now grown family entered their home. Henry took his wife in his arms; they both knew wordlessly what the other was feeling—a swelling source of pride and love for those who now lived not only in their home, but in their hearts. "Merry Christmas, my love," Henry spoke softly before lowering his head, meeting his wife's smiling lips with his own.
End Part 3... To be continued ?
Posted: 12/18/09
