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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Poor Man's Son - 18. Chapter 17

July 23, 2000

Paris, France

Will

We’d spent yesterday doing touristy shit, just us teenagers: John and I, Gathan and Kristin, and Darius and Ella. It was really painful to be around those two happy couples, knowing that the guy I was with didn’t feel that way about me, but I did my best to hide it. I don’t think I was entirely successful, because I got some confused looks from John, but we had a good time, and I’d managed to throw myself into the spirit of things anyway. Last night, we blew each other, and then went to sleep. I really didn’t want to talk about things, and he didn’t seem to want to talk about them either.

Today I’d woken up, much more excited about the day ahead. Stef, organizational dynamo that he was, had divided us up into groups again. He was taking Ella and Kristin shopping, Gathan and Darius were going to hang out, John and Grand were going to spend the day together, and I was stuck with Dad and Robbie. I was looking forward to it.

I’d woken up before everyone else, so I took my shower and ate breakfast, then headed up to the patio to wait for everyone to get ready. It was really an idyllic setting, being up on this rooftop with the city bustling all around me. The bells of Notre Dame pealed, and I didn’t know if they seemed more significant because it was Sunday or if that was just my perception, but they were really cool.

“You are up early,” Stef said pleasantly as he walked up and took a seat at the table with me.

“This is an awesome city.”

“I am glad that you like it. I have always loved Paris, even when Paris did not seem to love me.” He took a sip of his tea as he studied me with a contemplative look. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I said dismissively.

“I think you will find it is hard to hide your true feelings from the people who love you.”

I sighed. “We tried it,” I blurted out. “John tried to fuck me and it didn’t work.”

He nodded sagely. “Perhaps your body is trying to tell you that you are not ready for that.”

“You may be right,” I admitted, hoping that he’d take that bone of information I’d thrown him and leave me alone. He did, but I guessed that he was just being nice. He was too perceptive not to know there was more to it than that. Our conversation was interrupted when my dad came up the stairs.

“I think we’re going to head back on the 26th, the day after Gathan’s birthday,” he announced. Stef made to comment, and then stopped.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” I said pleasantly, sensing that they wanted to talk privately.

“No, stay,” Dad said, like he was making a monumental decision. I wondered if I looked as surprised as I was.

“He is not handling this well?” Stef asked, referring to Robbie.

“No. It’s been tough. He has nightmares, and he’s gotten back into that mode where he likes it, uh, rough,” Dad said. I wondered if other guys my age got to hear about their gay father and his partner having rough sex.

“Have you called David?” David was Robbie’s shrink. I just sat there, trying to be unobtrusive.

“He did. David told him it was OK to wait until the 26th to come home.”

“I think you should go now,” Stef said. “There is no reason to put him through this.”

Dad nodded. “Maybe he can go back and I can stay here.”

“No,” I said, talking when I hadn’t planned to. “He needs you with him.”

“Why?” Stef asked me. I’d learned that was typical of Stef. He knew the answer already; he just wanted to see my thought process.

“He’s been like this before, where he’s been all emotionally strung out,” I said, thinking of how he’d been last year. “He makes bad decisions when he’s like that.”

“You’re right,” Dad said. “That’s a pretty astute observation.”

“I agree,” Stef chimed in.

“We’d planned to spend the day with you,” Dad said to me. “I was really looking forward to that.”

“So was I,” I agreed.

He sat down at the table with Stef and me and we said nothing for a bit, just taking in this beautiful city and the sounds emanating from it. “I have an idea,” my dad said all of a sudden.

“Let us hear it,” Stef prompted.

“I’m going to set Robbie up in the study to get some work done. He can stay inside where he feels more comfortable. We’ve got that reception for JP tomorrow night, and I don’t want to miss that. He can make it until the 25th, and then we’ll head back.”

“That sounds pretty kick ass,” I agreed. They were going to have a benefit at the Louvre on the 24th, and Grand was going to be a speaker, talking about his experiences back in 1985 on the dig. We’d get to tour around parts of the museum without the crowds.

“I am sure that is a good way to describe it,” Stef said indulgently.

“So I was thinking you and I could spend the day together,” Dad said to me. It was so cool to see how his face lit up when he saw me smile at the idea of a whole day, just the two of us.

“I’ll try to rearrange my schedule for you,” I teased.

“You do that,” he said. “Then we can do the reception and fly out on Gathan’s birthday.”

“You think Robbie will be alright until then?” Stef asked.

“He will,” Dad said. “Especially when he knows he’ll be out of here the day after tomorrow.”

“What about leaving him alone?” I asked. Robbie could be pretty crazed when he was freaked out. How else could he have fallen for a douche bag like Carson?

“I will tell him that I’m so confident in him that I’m letting him have some time here alone,” he said, grinning. “Then I’ll have the guards keep an eye on him.”

“You are so manipulative,” Stef said, with faux condemnation in his voice.

“So what’s new,” I chimed in.

“You two are calling me manipulative? That’s like Charlie Manson calling someone a psycho,” he shot back.

“Who’s Charlie Manson?” I wondered aloud. They seemed amazed that I didn’t know who he was. I was treated to a fifteen minute diatribe on the Manson family, and reminded myself to avoid asking questions about arcane figures from the past.

It took us an hour before we could actually escape from the condo. We were on our way out the door when Stef stopped us. “Bertrand can go with you.”

“No, he can’t,” Dad said. “He’s going to stay here and keep an eye on Robbie.”

“You cannot go out without an escort,” he argued.

“I am a big boy. We’ll be fine,” Dad said adamantly. Before Stef could argue, he turned to me. “I’m going to take off my watch. You’re in charge of keeping time.” He hurried to his room to put that away while Stef stood there, glowering.

“We’ll be OK,” I said to calm him down. “We need some time without those guys around.” I was referring to the guards.

“I worry about you,” he said.

“I’ll be fine. My phone is charged and I’ll keep it with me the whole time.”

“Thank you,” he said, but he still gave Dad a dirty look as we left. We walked out of the condo, looked at each other mischievously, and then took off running, sprinting to the Metro station, just in case Stef tried to have us tailed.

July 23, 2000

Paris, France

Gathan

“Dude, let’s go back and take a break,” Darius said. We’d been walking around the city, checking out all the hot Parisian women, but my feet were pretty sore. Gilles, our guard, had been hanging out with us like he was one of our buds, which I guess he was since he was a nice guy. He’d taken us around and shown us where you can spot the best looking women in Paris, or at least that’s how it seemed.

“I’m all over that.” We slowed our pace and headed to the Metro station. It was kind of funny, because now that we were on our way home, Gilles naturally dropped into the background, letting the two of us talk.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a scumball, lusting after all those women,” Darius said.

“We were just looking,” I said.

“Does Kristin know you’ve been with guys?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said, even though the answer was ‘no’.

“How can you do that, just switch gears like that?”

“I’m not shallow like you,” I joked. “I like the person, not their body parts.”

“I am shallow. I like the body parts,” he said, cracking me up. We walked along, and he got nervous, and that was making me nervous. “I really love El,” he said, a propos of nothing.

“I know. She loves you too,” I said. I didn’t want to think about them being intimate, or about them being in love. I knew they were, I was happy about it, but details weren’t required.

“I’m glad we’re cool, you and I,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty surprised about that,” I told him. “I usually scared her boyfriends away.”

“Why didn’t you scare me away?”

“You’re not a pussy like the rest of them,” I said. “It would take me at least five minutes to kick your ass.”

“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes.

He was still waiting for an answer. “All the other guys that wanted to go out with her only wanted one thing. They didn’t see the person, they just saw the body.”

“Which is just the opposite of how you are,” he observed. It was pretty obvious, that link, but for some reason I’d never tied them together.

“Yeah.” We walked on for a bit, not saying anything. “I could tell you were different. You’ve been with lots of women, so at first I was nervous she was just another conquest for you, but you seemed as into her as she’s into you.”

“She’s awesome. All the other women I’ve been with, and I’ve been with a lot of women,” he said with bravado, cracking me up. “I’m serious,” he objected. “None of them were the one, but El is. It hurts when she’s not around. It’s physical pain,” he said, clutching his chest like he was performing in a play.

“I think Kristin is in love with me, but I’m not ready to say it yet,” I said, changing the subject to match my train of thought.

“So. Say it when you mean it.”

“She kind of slipped up and said it when we first got here.”

“What did you do?”

“We both played it off,” I told him.

“I watch her with you, and she’s got it. She loves you,” he said authoritatively. I almost chuckled when I thought about all the gay guys on this trip, and that made him the resident heterosexual expert.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. All the body language, everything, she just wraps herself around you. It’s so cute,” he said, giving me shit with those last words. “Let’s walk back,” he said.

“Fine,” I agreed. We passed the Metro station and headed toward the Condo. I decided to ask him a question that had been bothering me. “Why does JJ hate me?”

“Dude, he does not hate you. He’s just being a bitchy diva.”

“Yeah, but he’s singled me out. Most people don’t hate me unless I’ve kicked their ass, and even then we usually work it out. I don’t get it.”

“He’s jealous of the attention you get,” Darius said matter-of-factly. “I think he’s got that middle-child syndrome thing. You remember those Brady Bunch reruns? He’s like Jan.”

“What a lame show,” I laughed. “But I’m not even around that much.”

“You’re El’s brother, and if I have my way, that means you’ll be my brother-in-law some day.” For some reason, that was a really powerful statement. I put my arm around him and gave him a man hug. “You had that fling with Will, and now Will thinks you’re a god.”

“I am,” I said.

“Sucks for you that I’m an atheist,” he joked. “So you have this bond with Will, and you have this bond with me.”

“I would have paid attention to JJ if he wasn’t a little bitch,” I objected.

“Maybe if you paid more attention to him, he wouldn’t be a little bitch,” he said. Then he chuckled. “No, he’d still be a little bitch. But instead of it pissing you off, you’d laugh about it.”

 

July 23, 2000

Versailles, France

Will

“I’m surprised Stef didn’t buy this place,” I joked as we walked around the Grand Canal at Versailles.

“If it were for sale, he just might,” Dad said.

“I don’t know. He likes things more modern.”

“He does,” Dad agreed.

We walked along, enjoying the pleasant day, until I broke the silence by changing the subject. “Will Pop be OK?” I asked.

“He’s struggling, but I think this will be good for him. He thinks coming here was a mistake, but I think it helps him fight the demons.”

“What’s bothering you?” I asked him. There was something there, stuck beneath the surface, that was eating away at him.

“Our arguing and fighting,” he said.

“Yeah, but I think we’re beyond that, at least for now, until you fuck up again,” I joked.

“Did I ever tell you about my brother?”

“Ace?” I asked. My Uncle Ace was a pretty cool guy. He was a man’s man.

“No, Billy.”

“The one that died?” I asked curiously.

He nodded. “We’d been pretty tight for our whole lives, and then when we were in high school, we got into this big feud.”

“What was it about?”

“That’s the deal. I don’t really know. It was like he went from being this pretty laid back but narcissistic guy, to hating me. He outed Robbie after their football practice one day, and by default he outed me at the same time.”

He’d told me that high school was really hard for him at times because he’d been outed, but I hadn’t known how it happened. “That’s raw. I’ll bet you were pissed off.”

“A little bit,” he said, but I knew him better than that: He was hella pissed at Billy. “He ended up moving out with Grandmaman. We had a big party one night and he showed up with some friends, guys who were drunken assholes. We wouldn’t let those guys in, so they all took off. That’s the night he was killed. They wrecked their car.” He wiped a tear away from his eye, and that really surprised me. He could be pretty emotional, but he rarely cried.

“I’m sorry,” I said lamely. We walked along while he got his emotions under control. “I understand why that bothered you, but I don’t understand how that involves us.”

“Billy and I had a tight relationship and then it suddenly went to hell. I never really understood why that was. It took me a long time after he died not to be mad at him, and it took me even longer not to be mad at myself. I’ve gotten through that, but it’s still a mystery.”

Now I got it. “So you’re worried that something you do will make me do something like that, just freak out and get myself killed.”

“Or hurt,” he agreed.

“Dad, our argument was about you giving me space to grow up. Do you think that’s what it was about with Billy?”

“I think I expected an awful lot out of him when he was young,” he said. “He was only 15 when he died. You’re maturing faster than he did, so it’s pretty much like you’re at the same stage.”

There were times where I had to stop and remember that my dad had experienced some pretty fucked-up things when he was a kid. “You didn’t completely fuck up Darius,” I joked. “I’m not sure about JJ though.” He chuckled a little, but he wasn’t ready for humor yet. “Dad, I’m not Billy,” I said to him firmly.

He looked at me for a minute, and then nodded. “No, you’re not.”

“Give me credit for not being that narcissistic, or that big of an asshole.”

“That’s fair. I’ve got to pee,” he said, gesturing at a bathroom.

“I’ll wait for you,” I said, smiling. “I’m not old yet, so my bladder still works.”

“Ha ha ha,” he said, and sounded a lot like Robbie. I wondered if that’s what happens when you have a partner: you start talking like him. I decided to kill time by checking in with Stef.

“And where are you?” he asked petulantly.

“Don’t get all bitchy,” I teased, “or I won’t call you and give you secret updates.”

He chuckled. “Very well. I will save my attitude for your father.”

“I like that idea,” I said. “We’re at Versailles, walking around the Grand Canal.”

“I am glad to hear you are safe, but now I must go and save Kristin from a hideous top.”

“Someday you may have to do that for me,” I joked. He laughed pretty hard once he got it.

“Who were you talking to?” Dad asked as he strolled up to me.

“Stef.”

“Sucking up?”

“Very funny. He was worried, I’m trying to make him less concerned,” I said. “It’s called being thoughtful.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said. We resumed our stroll and didn’t say anything for a bit. “Are you doing alright?”

I tensed up, not because I didn’t want to tell him about this, but because it brought the whole thing back, front and center. “John and I tried to do it, and it didn’t work,” I told him.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re still pretty young,” he said nervously.

“No, I get it. You may be right.” I smiled at him. It was so cool that he’d actually listened when I bitched about being treated like a little kid. “It looks like you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Old dog?” he asked with feigned irritation.

“Middle-aged dog,” I corrected, which really did irritate him. I laughed at that, and he did too. We stopped laughing, and then walked about 15 steps before he broached the next topic. It was a sizeable gap in the conversation since we were walking at a slow pace.

“But that’s not what’s bothering you,” he said, asking the question Stef had dodged. I pondered how to answer that, and when I finally did, I noticed that it had taken me another 15 steps to do so.

“I love him more than he loves me,” I replied succinctly. “I think of John, and I think I’ve found the guy I want to be with forever. He sees me as his best friend with benefits.”

About 15 steps later, he replied. “And that’s not good enough? You want him to decide you’re his life partner too? At the ripe old age of 13?” He raised his eyebrow as he said that.

“I didn’t say it made sense, and I didn’t say I was right,” I snapped immediately. It occurred to me that when he and I were really communicating, really connecting, there was that gap, the 15 steps, between responses. It showed we were listening to each other. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

His reaction to that comment was instantaneous. He put his arm around me in an affectionate and loving gesture. “I understand. What’s worse is nothing anyone says can make it easier. I hope that you focus on what you and John have, not on what you want it to be.” I realized that his gesture wasn’t about communicating, it was one of pure love, and I put my arm around him as well.

I thought about what he said, and my attitude about this whole thing, and I started to feel like an idiot. John had given me everything he could right now, the only thing he hadn’t done is promise me his future. “I guess I’m asking an awful lot of him,” I told Dad. “Shit, I don’t even know where I’m going to school this fall.”

“You haven’t made your decision yet?” he asked. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, and I knew then that Stef was right. I’d miss him way too much if I was in Paly. What’s worse, he’d miss me too, and knowing him, he’d bust it up to Paly whenever he could to check up on me. That would put a lot of extra pressure on him. I looked at him sideways and paused to remember that he was a super-successful businessman. He was the Chairman of Triton Electronics, and Stef’s right-hand man in running that empire. My brothers and I didn’t appreciate the time he spent with us considering the demands that were placed on him. We should.

“No, not yet,” I said. I was trying to keep a straight face, but he knew I was messing with him.

“What?” he demanded.

“It’s between Malibu High and Harvard-Westlake,” I told him.

“So you’re not moving to Paly?” he asked. He tried to be stoic like Grand, but he could never quite pull it off. It was at times like this, when he was grinning ear to ear, showing the world how he felt, that I was so glad he couldn’t.

“Nope.”

“What changed your mind?” he asked.

“Stef.”

“Stef changed your mind? And how did he do that?”

“He told me he’d be thrilled if I was there, but he was afraid that I’d miss home.”

“You’d miss JJ,” he said.

“I would,” I agreed. “He’s not as fun as he used to be before he got into skating, but I think he needs me to be around.”

“Probably,” he said. I stopped and made him turn to face me, because he wasn’t getting it.

“I’d really miss you,” I said to him sincerely. His eyes got all watery, and then he pulled me into a big hug. It was one of those hugs that last for a while and that mean so much.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know Dad. I love you too.” We started walking again, heading back through the palace grounds and toward the RER station.

“Let’s go back to Paris and I’ll show you some of my old haunts,” he said. “There’s an Italian restaurant there you have to see.”

“Why? Is it good?”

“No, not really,” he said laughing.

“Then why are we going there?”

“It’s where we found Marcel.” Marcel was like a younger version of Robbie. I wondered briefly if I could get him to sleep with me, then giggled to myself. My dad was about to ask me about that when I felt a very firm grip on my shoulder.

“This thing poking you in the back,” an American voice said, “is a gun. You’re going to do what I say, or this gun is going to take out both of you.”

 

 

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Chapter Comments

An American voice was behind the gun... Brad has some bitter enemies whom he has taken down and some have lots of money. It seems they may have hired some thugs to follow him and his family to exact some revenge. Knowing Brad, and the rest of the clan including Stef and J.P., I would expect they will get to the bottom of this and exact their own retribution.

 

I just hope Brad and his son make it through this latest challenge!

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On 06/06/2011 03:48 AM, Conner said:
"The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."

 

Arbour, you have weak flesh! :2hands: Again with the cliffhanger. I have to admit it's a good one!

 

The last scene between Will and Brad was very moving; I just loved it. :wub:

I think Brad and Will are working their way back into a comfortable relationship again. Unless they get shot.
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On 06/07/2011 10:21 AM, Daddydavek said:
An American voice was behind the gun... Brad has some bitter enemies whom he has taken down and some have lots of money. It seems they may have hired some thugs to follow him and his family to exact some revenge. Knowing Brad, and the rest of the clan including Stef and J.P., I would expect they will get to the bottom of this and exact their own retribution.

 

I just hope Brad and his son make it through this latest challenge!

You've met this guy before.
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Mark, you're a bad, bad, boy. Why do all authors think it's great to use cliffhangers? Readers don't like 'em! Just kiddin'. I've been a big fan of yours forever. If you decided to start writing in Arabic, I would take the time to learn the language just so I could read your stuff. It must have something to do with our both being from the show-me state; same wave length or so.

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On 06/08/2011 08:36 PM, JoeyFromGermany said:
Mark, you're a bad, bad, boy. Why do all authors think it's great to use cliffhangers? Readers don't like 'em! Just kiddin'. I've been a big fan of yours forever. If you decided to start writing in Arabic, I would take the time to learn the language just so I could read your stuff. It must have something to do with our both being from the show-me state; same wave length or so.
Thanks! Arabic..probably not. Even my French is too bad to risk more than a phrase or two. You're a MO boy? You must love the masochistic sex scenes. (SMILE)!!!
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