Don H
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My Beloved is mine, and I am his. Song of Songs 2:16 "Oh, Cammy, darling, you cute little fuck, it's time to get up!!!" A shrill, falsetto voice squawked into his left ear as the boy lay on his side in bed, and then his bed itself began to bounce up and down in an exceedingly unpleasant manner. The voice matched the pitch of his mother Catherine's voice perfectly, but the tone was all wrong. And the word "fuck" and any of its derivatives were definitely not something the elegant,
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This is the conclusion of Matt and Mike Broman's story of their lives and how they worked it out.
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Matt had somehow got it into his head that the condo family should have a group picture taken by a professional. Mike didn't have a clue why his partner thought this was so important right then. But he didn't rag on him about it even though he wasn't all that hot about the idea. So, eventually Matt had his way. On the Monday before Chris was scheduled to fly out of Chicago on the first leg of his trip to Zurich, a photographer and his cute, young male assistant showed up at the penthouse in t
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Matt and Mike arrived home from their classes in mid-afternoon the day after they had come back from Washington. They were meeting Stan at the condo so that the three of them could drive together over to St. Stephen's School for their meeting with Dr. Bob Fischer, the principal, about bullying. Stan was sitting in the den when Matt and Mike came in, watching one of the female TV judges dispense "justice." "Hey, man, 'sup?" Matt asked their friend, joining him on the couch for a minute.
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"Get up, you slackers!" Martha demanded. Matt looked up sleepily from the bed at Jeff and Martha as they stood there smiling down on him. His bedmates, Mike and David, still dead to the world, gave no sign they had heard the new arrivals come into their parents' guest room. Matt's first thought was for his father. "Who's with Dad?" he asked. "Mom," Jeff said. "We went right to Walter Reed when we got into Washington. Mom said she'd relieved Mike a couple hours ago, so she sent us back h
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Curtis Pennington's face was pale as he stood up behind the desk in his office, but he offered his hand to his two visitors and was cordial when he spoke. He was tall, not too many inches shy of David's 6'4", and handsome. His blond hair was a little on the long side, and he was wearing khaki pants and a long-sleeved white shirt with a Dilbert tie. "I always knew this day would come," he told David and Matt, looking resigned. "I thought I'd be ready, but I'm not. Not really." "We didn't co
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On the Monday morning after Linda's and Stan's wedding, Justice and Mrs. Broman and Jeff and Martha woke up with the sun. They ate a quick breakfast and drank coffee with Matt and Mike in the kitchen. Justice and Mrs. Broman were both heading back to Washington, and Jeff and Martha, to school. Outwardly, it was a subdued sendoff in the foyer before they left. It was early. But the goodbyes were full of emotional undercurrents--deep satisfaction with the time they'd all had together over the p
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Matt and Mike hadn't had a clue that Stan and Linda had been experiencing problems as their wedding day drew near. But two weeks before the two of them were to have their union blessed at the altar of St. Casimir's Church, Stan had strolled back to Matt's and Mike's bedroom one evening while they were studying, and knocked softly on the door. "Hey, short-timer, common in," Matt had said, putting down his law text. "Hey, dude," Mike had said. " 'Sup?" "I've been wanting to tell you what'
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After "Boys Night Out" at Roscoe's, Chris had risen early on Saturday morning at his usual time, feeling great. He had seen Father David off when the priest left to go home to get ready to go to St. Stephen's for mass and his morning office hours. David had seemed fine, although he had admitted to Chris that his his stomach was a little queasy from partying the night before. He had turned down Chris' offer to fix him coffee and breakfast, wanting to offer mass before he ate. But knowing what
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Matt arrived home from school late Thursday afternoon in a great mood. One of his professors had returned an exam given before the holidays, and he'd aced it. That was in addition to the high he was still on after a wonderful time during Christmas vacation back in Pennsylvania. So he was a happy guy as he stepped off the elevator at the condo, greeted the security guard on duty, and went into the den. Chris and Josh were sitting on the big leather couch, talking and watching the early news on
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There was some lake-effect snow in the air by the time Josh Harkness arrived at the condo shortly after six o'clock that evening, still in his state police uniform. He parked his squad car next to the two Chicago police squads sitting in plain view in the visitors parking lot, and so wasn't too surprised to see a Chicago cop on duty with Dominic at the front desk. "Hi, Dom," he said. "Is everything all right?" "Yes, sir," Dom said with a smile. "Matt and Mike are expecting you. Go right on
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Sunday was the last full day of vacation before the Chicago contingent had to fly back to Chicago. Matt and Mike were both feeling renewed from the time they had spent with their mom and dad and their kids and most of the other people they cared most about in this world. His batteries thoroughly recharged at this point, Matt had the runners in the house up early for their run. He figured that would leave plenty of time for everyone to shower and get ready for mid-morning mass at church. Chris
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With the days of their vacation rolling by, Matt was determined to wring every bit of pleasure he could out of the time the Chicago gang had together in Pennsylvania. The fourth morning after Christmas, after every one had eaten and had sat around the dining room table talking for awhile and digesting their food, he decided it was time to find out if Father Howard was as good a jock as his reputation suggested. The weather was cold and clear, about 32° F, and the sun shone down brightly on the g
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When the Bromans and their guests had arrived home from mass at Old St. Paul's Church, the grandfather clock in the lower hall said they were already an hour into Christmas Day. It wasn't long before everyone was in bed except for Mr. Broman. He had kissed his wife affectionately and wished her a Blessed Christmas, and she had retired for the evening. He himself had changed into his pajamas, robe and slippers, and made his way into a little sitting room off their bedroom. Sitting down at a writi
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Usually only the pre-schoolers were dismissed that early in the day, but by the time Stan arrived, all the grades at St. Stephen's School had been released to give the kids a good start on the Christmas holidays. When he pulled up in the car to pick up Matthew, Michael and Kyle, he noticed a big crowd of older kids circled around something or other going on at one side of the school's front entrance. The three Broman boys were not standing in their usual spot for their ride, so he shut off the m
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Whatever damage the bullet to Chris Russo's brain had done, it hadn't affected his memory. That had ben pretty clear when a young Chicago cop from the detective division and a police sketch artist had shown up at Chris' hospital room not long after he had regained consciousness, before Chris had gone to the condo to stay. He had given the two men a complete description of the man who had shot him on the Eisenhower Expressway: Latino, 5'10" tall, about 160 pounds, brown eyes and hair, dark comple
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Matt and Mike lay quietly in one another's arms after making love repeatedly. They were now happily at rest in the master bedroom of their condo at Snowmass, and if human contentment produces an aura, they and their bed were aglow. Love, exhilaration, joy, gratitude, peace, along with total physical fulfillment-- these were the sensations that flooded Matt's being as he awakened during the early morning hours in Colorado on that second day after their wedding. He stretched languorously, and h
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This is the continuing story of Matt and Mike Broman and how the face their troubles and work them out.
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Matt, Mike, Martha and the kids, along with Breakers the moocher, were in the kitchen finishing up breakfast about 8 a.m. the Saturday morning after Jeff and Martha had arrived. Matt and Mike, discharging their big-brotherly duty, grilled Martha about school and how her experience working for the local veterinarian back home in Pennsylvania had turned out the previous Summer. The upshot was that she'd had a good Summer and was having a great year in school. She was on the Dean's List, along with
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Martha woke up with a start in the middle of her nightmare, damp with perspiration. In her dream, her brother Matt had been tied to a bed, surrounded by faceless demons who were armed with pointed sticks. Just as their leader's stick had arced downward toward Matt's chest, Martha's eyes flew open, and the scene of incipient mayhem was replaced by the dimly lit, sterile whiteness of her bedroom wall. Jeff knocked on her door right then, opened it, and stood there wearing only his white jockey
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Linda Kosco sat down gratefully in an easy chair in the living room of her little apartment off the foyer of Matt's and Mike's condo. She and Stan had been studying together in Stan's room in preparation for their next day's classes. Between keeping up in school and her duties maintaining the condo in reasonable shape, as usual it had been a long day. She was tired. She hit the remote to turn on her TV and the VCR, and ran the VCR tape back so she could watch her favorite soap opera, recorded
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Jeff narrowed his eyes behind his sun glasses. Adjusting the sun visor in his truck, he blocked the bright morning rays as he swung east on to the Chicago Skyway from the Dan Ryan Expressway. The Indiana Toll Road lay ahead, the path leading back toward U Penn. His stomach grumbled a bit, and he decided to stop for breakfast right after he hit the Indiana state line. His thoughts returned to the Summer he had just spent in Chicago. He realized fully that he had emerged over those months from
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Still comatose, Sean Garrity died three days after being hospitalized. His body systems shut down one after another despite every intervention his doctors made, and he was gone. It was the day before what would have been his and Mike's first day back in class for their third year in medical school. Mike was distraught, his one satisfaction being that he had phoned Sean's family to tell them he was in the hospital. At least his father and brother got to see him one last time, although he wa
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Matt slowly awakened to a dull, rhythmic, pounding noise coming from the adjoining bedroom. He looked over at Mike, who was still sleeping soundly. The mysterious sound continued as Matt gradually gained full consciousness, at which point there was a horrendous crash from the boys' bedroom. Mike woke up with a start. He and Matt quickly jumped out of bed, pulled on their undershorts, and ran into the next bedroom. They saw the three little boys, paralyzed in surprise at what had just happened
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It was one of those crystalline end-of-Summer, brink-of-Fall days, hot, but with no humidity. Martha lay comfortably on a chaise longue on the front lawn of the Broman cottage at Lake Marston, enjoying the bright sunshine. She stared through dark glasses at the lake, where the Chris Craft made wide and gentle circles on the water with the sun glinting off her brightwork. Despite Martha's misgivings, Matt and Mike had taken the three little boys out for their first water skiing adventure. The
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