Don H
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Jeff bounced into the den of the condo after work, trailed by a cute, sweet-faced blonde, about 5'9", with a nice tan and a voluptuous figure. Stan Rosinski and Linda Kosco were sitting on the couch, holding hands and watching television. Stan, like the gentleman he was becoming under Linda's tutelage, stood up to greet Jeff's companion. "Hi, guys," Jeff said. "I want you to meet Andie Parker. She lifeguards with me at Oak Street Beach. Andie, this is Stan Rosinski and his fiancée', Linda
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Mike woke up about 7:30 a.m., and lay in bed in a blue funk. He missed Matt and he missed the kids. Matt's problems in Hartford were a sobering reminder to Mike that for those whose lifestyle lies outside the "normal," bell-shaped curve, kindness and tolerance don't always win out against cruelty and bigotry, at least not in the short term. Thinking about what Governor Bradford had done, Lord Acton's acerbic comment from centuries ago flashed through his mind: "Power corrupts, and absolute po
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Mike walked through the new construction on his and Matt's condo, now almost completed. It pleased him. The Chicago architect who had been recommended by management at Berman Worldwide Engineering, where his father had once held sway, had proven to be a good choice. The workmanship was excellent, the pace in completing the job had been right on target, and above all, his wishes with respect to the final product had been scrupulously followed. He allowed himself a smile, one of the few that ha
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Thursday evening, spring break. Matt and Mike bathed the twins, put them in their pajamas, and then Mike took them back to the big couch in the den to read them their bedtime story. Story finished, Mike gave them good night kisses and Matt carried them to the bedroom to their cribs. The little guys were sleepy, so there were no protests when their dad laid each of them down, caressed their heads gently, and dimmed the bedroom light to a glimmer. The boys went to sleep almost immediately. M
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For some inexplicable reason, the twins were sleeping a little later than usual. Matt and Mike had returned to bed and sleep after their sojourn down the hall to the den at 5 a.m. to light a candle. Matt awakened first, and without moving looked over at Mike. He unconsciously moistened his lips as he thought about the ways the two of them had pleasured each other the previous night. The urgency of sexual desire having been well quenched, now Matt's eye was on Mike for the sheer beauty of his
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Mike was pumped. After two years of pain and loneliness, the mere sight of Matt made him high. When the initial shock of seeing his brother and his two kids emerge from the limo in front of his condo had worn off, he was alive. And it felt damn good, but he tried not to be too obvious about it. Mike helped Matt retrieve the luggage from the car and took his surprise guests upstairs. Sitting them down in the den, he went back downstairs and untied Breakers from his tree for a short walk. Wh
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The following school year was a blur for Matt, beleaguered with his studies and with the constant care of his boys. It hadn't been much easier for Mike, who made sure that the few spare hours he had were filled so that he wouldn't have to dwell on the fact that he was very much alone. Matt called Mike at least once a week to talk, and although their relationship had healed to some extent and their conversations were easier, Mike still resisted Matt's requests to come to Chicago for a visit. M
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In the fall of Matt's first year in law school, Mr. and Mrs. Matthew J. Broman, Jr., had moved into their new two bedroom apartment across the campus from the coachhouse where Jeff and Martha were living. One reason that Matt hadn't tried to persuade Jeff to let him and Sarah have the coachhouse anyway after he had lost the coin toss was-- the memories. Too many memories there. And Sarah loved the new place they had found from the moment she laid eyes on it. Sarah was luxuriating one morning
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For Mike and Matt, the week's vacation at Lake Marston after they had returned home from Chicago had been like frosting on the cake of a very good summer, all things considered. Mike smiled to himself as he and Matt unpacked and put their clothes away in their apartment back at school, remembering the joy of being with the family he had come to love as if he had never had another. The steamy heat of late summer had broken as the family had arrived at the cottage, but the sun had continued to
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Mike reached across the bed for Matt in the middle of the night, and he wasn't there. He rolled out of bed and went into the living room. In the faint light from the back alley Mike could see Matt, sitting naked on the couch, his legs drawn up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them. Mike went back into the bedroom, grabbed the bedspread, and came out and sat down next to him. He wound them both up in the soft cloth so that nothing stuck out but their heads. Mike reached ove
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It was Friday morning, and Matt and Mike didn't have to report to work at Mother of Mercy Hospice until Monday morning. They had slept well in their new apartment the night before. They ate a leisurely breakfast and showered and dressed in their usual 501's and a T. The weather was perfect again, clear and about 75°. Matt suggested they take the elevated train, the infamous Chicago "L," downtown, and find out how long a trip it would be to get to work on Monday. Grabbing their cameras, they w
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His eyes locked to the pilot's, Mike kept his hand over John Peterson's hand on the helicopter's collective. Mike pushed it down yet again as a reminder he meant business, and the big bird bobbed in the air. "John, I'm not fucking around here. You get down there and pick Matt up, or I swear to God, you won't like what happens." "Mike, I told you, I can't land down there!" "You get down there and hover, then! You don't have to land! I can at least get Matt on the skid." Cursing under
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The black hearse wended its way around the circular drive in front of Old St. Paul's Church, its tires crunching in the heavy frost on the ground, and stopped at the front entrance. It was followed by several dozen cars. The tower bell tolled sadly as car doors began popping open. Six of Mike's swim teammates gathered at the back door of the hearse under a cold, gray sky that promised snow. The funeral director slid the casket halfway out. The six young men donned gray gloves, grasped the rai
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It was Tuesday before Thanksgiving, back at home for vacation, and an unaccustomed late morning in bed for Matt and Mike. A narrow band of sunlight lasered through the window drapes where they weren't quite closed, and the light cut across the boys' chests as they lay together in bed in the otherwise dark room. Matt lay without moving and studied Mike's form, gratified for the thousandth time by what he saw. That handsome, fine featured face, now with a hint of morning stubble, full lips, sma
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Detective Stans seemed to be a nice young guy, and he and Matt made small talk about life in a university town on the way down to the police station. The day was cool and windy. There wasn't much traffic on the road, but a lot of students were walking around campus right then, seemingly without a care in the world. Sometimes, Matt thought to himself, it's just you against the harsh realities of life--particularly when you're in the back of a unmarked police car on the way to answer questions
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The days following Matt's admission to Mike that he was in love with him were ecstasy for both of them. Days of golden sun, blue water and vigorous exercise water skiing and swimming were a perfect prelude to nights of tentative exploration in their new sexual relationship. Mike was keenly aware of his promise to let Matt escalate the sexual side of things at his own pace, and so he followed Matt's lead. The boys had immediately dispensed with sleeping in their undershorts, their nakedness ma
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Mike Berman, a swimmer, and Matt Broman, a wrestler, are college roommates. Mike is gay and Matt finds out. They live life and face the ups and downs and above all, they work things out.
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Jeff dropped Matt and Mike back at school right on schedule, and they had to scramble to catch up with their course work and get their edge back in wrestling and swimming. Their social life, such as it was, was eliminated entirely for awhile by an endless round of classes, studying, athletics, and sleep. Their professors offered them special help, however, as did the coaches, and after several weeks the boys felt they were enough on top of things to actually go to a movie and a meal off campu
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Mike had already learned a great deal about the Broman extended family during his stay. Matthew James Broman, Matt's dad, was an attorney and senior partner in the law firm of Hagerty, Broman, Arpels, Schiffmeyer and Dixon, one of the most powerful and respected law firms on the east coast. His particular specialty was corporate law. He had reportedly turned down numerous offers of state and federal judgeships to remain in private practice. Matt's mother, Jane Broman, was partner and senior d
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The university had pushed up its start date a few weeks so that the first semester would be finished by Christmas this year. The afternoon autumn sun turned everything to gold as traffic wound slowly through the campus and around the dorms. Newly minted freshmen unloaded their clothes, computers and stereos before trundling everything inside their plain, brick dorms. Kisses and hugs from moms and dads, and by dusk the younger generation was finally on their own "About time!" Mike Berman said
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My Belovèd is mine, and I am his. Song of Songs 2:16 Catherine MacKenzie hit the ground running, literally and figuratively, after she and Ian Carson had returned to San Rafael from L.A. She put in some long hours to catch up with her work at St. Francis while getting back into her running/jogging routine with Ian, Mary and the boys. Despite her ongoing concerns about Cam, Catherine's mind was like a laser when she was focused on her work. Fortunately, her four graduate teaching ass
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My Belovèd is mine, and I am his. Song of Songs 2:16 Fall, such as it was, had come to southern California. The days were still long and hot, but the nights were cooler. And everything was dry. People began to watch closely for a repeat of the destructive fires that seemed to ravage the L.A. area every year about then. But Cam was oblivious to it all. During the few days he'd been at home after being released from the hospital, he had gradually fallen into a haze that in truth was
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My Belovèd is mine, and I am his. Song of Songs 2:16 Alexander MacKenzie awakened with a start. Their direct flight from Kennedy Airport in New York to LAX had just landed, and the airplane began to taxi toward the arrival gate. "We're home," John told him with a yawn, uncoupling his hand from Alex's. Covered by a single blanket, they'd been comfortably holding hands for the last hour or so of the flight. "Oh, man," Alex said, yawning and stretching in his seat as they taxied alon
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My Belovèd is mine, and I am his. Song of Songs 2:16 Standing outside Cam's Emergency cubicle at the hospital, Kevin pulled his cell phone off his belt and hit quick dial. "Dad? It's Kevin." It was midnight in L.A., and 8 a.m. in London. Kevin could hear the sounds of clinking silverware, and knew that Alex and John were at breakfast. "Kevin!" Alex said enthusiastically. But Kevin's voice hadn't sounded very cheerful. "Is everything all right." "No." The word caught in the young
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My Belovèd is mine, and I am his. Song of Songs 2:16 Vacillating between satisfaction about the family's visit and sorrow over their departure, Cam walked back into the Malibu house with Kevin and Carl and the two collies after the limos pulled away. Sensing Cam's conflicted mood, Kevin put his arm around his partner and hugged him as they strolled into the back door. "Was that a great week or not?" Kevin asked Cam, pulling him into his arms once they were in the back hall. "It wa
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