9.11 - 50. Chapter 50

September 28, 2001

I had to do this. I knew it would be hell, but it was something I had to do. I wondered if my battered psyche would be able to handle it. I stood in front of the mirror, tying my tie, and remembered when I’d done that right before my wedding. Robbie had been here, and he’d pushed my hands aside and tied it for me. He wasn’t here to help me this time. I looked around at our room and everything in it reminded me of him. I’d flown down last night and stayed here, but I’d felt so uncomfortable I’d slept in Will’s room.

I sighed as I put on my tanzanite cufflinks, the ones that reminded me of Robbie’s violet eyes, and looked at my appearance to make sure I was presentable. My eyes were red from crying, but they’d been like that since I’d found out Robbie was dead, so it was starting to just look like a normal part of me. I walked out into the main room and glanced over at the closet, the one that still held all of his clothes. Then there was the other room, the one Stef had designed for us, the one full of sex toys. If I opened that door, the first thing that would greet me would be a huge picture of the two of us. Then when I went in there, I’d remember all the great sex we’d had, and if my memory wasn’t up to snuff, I could pop in one of the videos we’d made. I could use one of the many contraptions back there to get myself off while I watched us having sex, and I could fantasize and pretend that it was really him I was fucking. I could live in that world where he was still alive and with me, but then as soon as the video ended, so would that dream, and then I’d be all alone again. And the loneliness and agony would be even worse than it was before.

I should have stayed in a hotel, but that wasn’t really reasonable what with all the visitors we were hosting. In addition to the Palo Alto crowd, Clara and Wally were in town with Gathan and Kristen, Zach, Trent, and Brent. Ella didn’t come out for the memorial, which was just as well, since now she and Darius weren’t even on speaking terms. My half-brother Nick was here as well, along with his family. But the worst of all was that Lou and Marcel were flying in from Canada. I hadn’t seen them yet, and I was dreading it, not because I didn’t love them, but because Marcel looked so much like Robbie. I sighed as I looked at the clock, and noted it was time for me to go downstairs, climb in a limo, and say goodbye to Robbie.

The tears started again, and I pulled out the Kleenex to wipe them away. I had handkerchiefs in my pocket for when I was out of my house, but I preferred the disposable Kleenexes. I could shed my tears and my grief into them, and then throw them away, as if that would take the sadness away. I could almost see Robbie’s smiling face in front of me, encouraging me to go do this and to have fun with it and that whole vision sparked even more tears. Then the familiar sadness gave way to even more familiar anger. I walked up to the door to our sex room and hit it with my fist, hard enough to make my hand hurt like a motherfucker. “Fuck you!” I said, with real venom in my voice. “Fuck you for leaving me behind, and fuck you for all those years you fucked with my psyche!” And then as soon as the anger roared out, it was gone, replace by sadness again. I reached out toward the door with my hand, the one I’d hurt, as if I could reach out to him, and summon him back.

My door burst open and Will came in. “I heard a loud bang,” he said.

“It was nothing,” I said.

He looked down at my hand, the hurt one I was nursing with my other hand, then took it in his. His touch was so soft, and so caring, but that just triggered more tears. “Dad…” he started.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, even though we both knew I wasn’t.

“You will be,” he said in a very reassuring tone. “Come on. Let’s go do this. Let’s go remind everyone of what an awesome dude Robbie was.”

“Alright,” I said. “You look good,” I noted, to focus on something else. His tailored black suit went perfectly with his dark hair and green eyes, and seemed to flow over his thin, fit body.

“Duh,” he said, making me chuckle. “You look really good too. We do black well.”

“We do,” I agreed.

“This is going to be really tough on JJ, and on Frank,” he said. He knew me so well, and he was playing me perfectly, reminding me of other people who relied on me so I’d be strong. Only this time, not even that would probably be enough. He got that and shifted gears. “Ryan’s mom offered to escort you.”

“Terrific,” I grumbled, even as I smiled. Charlotte Grafton was a major social climber, and her dream had evidently always been to marry a Hollywood star or a power broker. She was a nice but annoying person. “Will Ryan be there?”

“Yeah,” Will said. “He’s been a good friend. He and Kai send me e-mails pretty much every day to check up on me, and to try and cheer me up.”

“I guess that’s worth letting him knock down and dent one of Grand’s suits of armor,” I joked, surprising myself. I’d been livid about that at the time, not about the suit of armor being damaged, but about Will and Ryan being drunk off their asses. That seemed so trivial now, in the greater scheme of things. “Let’s go.”

We walked down the stairs together, and as we rounded the corner to the final leg, I could see the great room filled with family and close friends. I swallowed hard and tried to be inconspicuous, even though I knew they were all watching me, wondering whether I’d hold up or not. I was wondering about that too. I made the rounds, pleasantly greeting everyone like I was just at a party, putting on my best façade. Will stuck to me like glue.

I was doing really well until I got to Lou and Marcel. Lou was as handsome as ever. He reminded me of Cody and Jack in that his amazing teen-model looks just seemed to get even hotter with age. He gave me a big hug, forcing me to hold it longer than I’d planned. “I am sorry,” he said, the same idiotic phrase I’d hear over and over again, only he said it in French, and somehow that made it better. But then I was done with him, and Marcel was in front of me.

“I should not have come,” he said in French. “Seeing me must be so painful for you.” And that sparked something in me, flipped a switch and turned off my emotional basket-case self. There was no way I was going to let my emotional issues make Marcel feel unwelcome.

“No,” I replied in the same language. “If you remind me of Robbie that is a good thing.” I gave him a big hug, sinking into him and his body that felt so much like Robbie’s.

I disengaged from them and headed straight for Stef and JP, seeking sanctuary in their presence. “The car is ready for us,” Stef said.

I followed him and JP out to the limo and got in, followed by Will, Darius, and JJ. The three boys sat across from us, staring at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to implode. “This is really hard, but being surrounded by the people I love most makes it a little easier.”

JJ sat across from Stef, pouting and moody. I focused on him, because I knew that if I stared at him long enough, he’d get annoyed enough to tell me what was bothering him. It was funny to watch him try to avoid eye contact with me until he gave in to the inevitable. “This is supposed to be a celebration of life?” he demanded. “We’re celebrating because he’s dead?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Darius asked loudly. I put my hand on Darius’ knee to calm him down, and focused on JJ.

“It doesn’t mean that we’re happy that Robbie is dead, JJ. It means that we’re happy we had what time we did with him,” I said. “He accomplished a lot, and he meant a lot to a whole bunch of people. That’s something to be happy about.”

“Why?” he asked, in full-blown bitchy mode. “There’s nothing to be happy about. Nothing at all. He went back up those stairs on his own, when he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to die. It was a total waste!”

“Dude, if he hadn’t tried to save Mom and Hank, he’d have blamed himself for the rest of his life,” Darius said. “It wasn’t his way, to leave them behind.” I could read the other sentence he was holding back, the one where he was upset that he’d let Robbie go instead of going himself.

“The bravery that the three of you exhibited that day is truly impressive,” JP said, chiming in. “The way the two of you fought your way out of that building, saving your sister, is noteworthy enough. That Robbie sacrificed himself to go back up and try to save Jeanine and Hank was a brave and selfless act. These are actions that should be lauded.”

JJ wasn’t mollified. “Aren’t you glad that Pop was part of your life?” I asked him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he responded, embattled.

“Wasn’t he important to you?” JJ said nothing. “I know he was. That’s what we’re celebrating.”

“It’s what he would have wanted us to do,” Will said. “He would have wanted us to think about him and be happy that he was part of our lives.”

“Well I don’t give a shit about what he wanted,” JJ said, finally losing it. “He didn’t think about the rest of us when he decided to go running back up those stairs. He was being all noble, and that’s fine, but he didn’t think about the rest of us, the people he left behind.”

“No, he didn’t,” I said, agreeing with him. “So in addition to celebrating his life, we have to forgive him for that.” That shocked the shit out of JJ, since he didn’t think I’d buy into his argument, but I’d been struggling with the same thing, so I knew exactly how he felt.

“Have you finished going over his estate?” Stef asked to change the subject.

“More or less,” I said. “We’ll meet tomorrow and I’ll go over it with everyone.” I didn’t want to think about that now. Only by avoiding the issue I’d just made them all more curious. I sighed. “He divided up his stock in Anders-Hayes into four parts, and left a share to each of his sons.”

“So Matt, Darius, JJ, and Will control Robbie’s shares of the company?” Stef asked.

“Assuming we can get the Board to approve it,” I said, knowing that was a given, even though the firm’s attorney had been a royal pain in the ass about it.

“That was nice of him,” Will said softly. Darius nodded, while JJ said nothing. The company had been everything to Robbie, so by giving it to his four sons, he had clearly told them how much he loved them.

“Why are we having this thing at the Mission?” JJ asked, all pissed off again. “Isn’t there somewhere nicer we could have picked?”

“Are you going to be a douche all fucking day?” Darius challenged him.

“Well if we’re supposed to be honoring him, why are we doing it in a fucking homeless shelter? Can’t we get someplace that isn’t in the ‘hood?”

“It’s not about how nice the place is,” I said to JJ quickly, jumping in before Darius and Will could rip him apart for being such a snob. “The Mission has special meaning to us. It’s where we had our ‘wedding’.”

“Whatever,” he said, and then proceeded to pout. His brothers were seriously pissed off at him, but he was hurting badly, and this was just his way of expressing that. I could see Will ultimately mellow as he figured that out, but Darius was still pretty angry.

“Brace yourselves,” Stef cautioned as the limo pulled up to the Mission. There were photographers everywhere, and bulbs were flashing like crazy, as the paparazzi came out to catalog this final tribute to Robert Hayes. He had been a big player in this town, and that meant that all of the elites in the entertainment industry would be here, including various celebrities. That had drawn a crowd, as people clamored to see their favorite stars. The limo stopped and a valet opened the door, letting Stef out. The bulbs flashed so much that it looked like it was lightning outside. I went next; my stoic look pasted on my face, and stood aside as JP emerged, then my sons. They were all three young men to be proud of.

They all had excellently tailored black suits on, but of the three, JJ managed to look the most elegant. He usually did. He had an elitist air about him that was accentuated when he was in public. His blond hair and cute features would have made him attractive even if he was dressed badly, but dressed as he was, he was stunningly handsome. His only detraction was his height, as he seemed to be frozen at about five and a half feet. I’d thought maybe he’d go through a growth spurt when he hit puberty full on, but that hadn’t happened, at least not to the extent he probably hoped.

His shortness became more obvious when Will followed him out of the car. He was already over six feet tall, and carried himself with an entirely different air. Will’s whole demeanor announced to the world that he was independent, his own man. It made him seem invulnerable, and very attractive.

If JJ was elegant, and Will was the maverick, then Darius was the epitome of cool. His movements were casual yet controlled, and he managed to exit the limousine with a grace none of the rest of us even came close to. His whole attitude seemed to give off a vibe of someone who knew he was the shit, and seemed to challenge people to try and be cool enough to be his friend. That he wasn’t quite as tall as Will didn’t distract from that, and his darker skin and hair gave him an exotic flavor that only made the effect more pronounced.

We strode into the Mission where we were greeted by Father Tim and Max. They both looked at me nervously, probably wondering if I’d try to rekindle my relationship with Max. That pissed me off enough to give me some strength, so I was polite but somewhat reserved, and I probably seemed rude, but I decided not to worry about that. I detached myself from everyone and went around greeting people who were there, especially the performers who had agreed to sing and make this tribute just that much more special. They were all nice to me, and told me how sorry they were for my loss. I acknowledged those platitudes and uttered the correct response. I was hollow inside, and I must have seemed that way to them.

There were two parts of the Mission we were using: the huge dining hall and the church. The dining hall was set up as an informal gathering area, with tables set up with finger food, and bars serving drinks for those attending. There were exhibits of Robbie displayed throughout. I felt someone next to me and knew without looking that it was Will. “This is amazing,” he said. “You did a really good job. He would have liked this.”

“I hope so,” I said. These same photos would be featured in the memorial I’d planned. And so I mingled, putting up with mindless banter from these people I’d known, and who’d been on the periphery of my life.

“Hey Brad,” I heard a familiar voice say.

“Alex,” I said in a friendly way. “I’d like you to meet my son, Will. Will, this is Alex Danvers.”

I watched Will struggle only briefly with his emotions, hiding the anger at this man who had been a symbol of the problems Robbie and I had. “Nice to meet you,” Will said, and his pleasantness erased the slight struggle Alex may or may not have noticed.

“Thanks for all your help in pulling this together,” I said to Alex. He’d been amazing, coordinating the editing of the film that would accompany the musical performances.

“It’s the least I could do,” he said, and then we moved on.

“Robbie sure improved his taste in men,” Will said, making me chuckle.

“He did,” I agreed.

At exactly 7:15, I led my family into the church, up the same aisle I’d walked when I got ‘married’ to Robbie, and took my seat in the front pew. I watched as the rest of them followed me and took their seats as well. I felt bad for Matt, as he almost had to physically lean on Wade for support, then I felt even worse for Wade, who had to deal with this in addition to losing his own father. But the worst of all was Frank, who seemed to simply walk along sadly, shedding tears silently as he did. The past few weeks had seemed to age him, and make him frailer. I looked away from him, lest he depress me even more than I already was.

Father Tim walked up to the lectern to indicate the thing was about to start, and said a short prayer, one I’d agreed to allow in deference to protocol. When he was done, I stood up and took his place. “I have had to deal with some tough things in my life, and some pretty hard challenges, but nothing I have ever done before has prepared me for the pain of losing my partner, the man I love.” I paused to get my voice under control, as it had cracked during that last line. “This memorial is a tribute to Robbie Hayes; to the man he was, the father he was, the businessman he was, and the partner he was. When he died, a big part of me died with him.” I had to pause again, forcing myself to get a grip on my emotions to utter one last line. “Robbie, wherever you are, know that I will always love you.” I managed to make it back to the pew, where I sat down and fished out a handkerchief to dry my eyes.

The curtain to the right of the stage opened up at the same time Elton John started playing the piano, the only instrument he was using, banging out the familiar opening chords to “Crocodile Rock”. I’d wanted to start this out with a happier tone, to highlight Robbie’s younger days. As Elton John started singing, pictures of Robbie as a baby, then a boy, then an adolescent, began to cycle through. I watched them, marveling at how handsome he was. I smiled as I noted how the lyrics had been slightly modified, a beautiful gesture for Robbie.

I remember when rock was young, me and Robbie had so much fun
Holding hands and skimming stones
Had an old black Caddy and still lived at home
But the biggest kick I ever got was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock
While the other kids were Rocking ’Round The Clock, we were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock
Well, Crocodile Rocking is something shocking when your feet just can't keep still
I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will
Oh lawdy mama, those Friday nights when Robbie wore his blue jeans tight and the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight

But the years went by and the rock just died
Robbie went and left us for some Cali guy
Long nights crying by the record machine
Dreaming of the Caddy and my old blue jeans
But they'll never kill the thrills we've got burning up to the Crocodile Rock
Learning fast as the weeks went past
We really thought the Crocodile Rock would last
Well, Crocodile Rocking is something shocking when your feet just can't keep still
I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will
Oh lawdy mama, those Friday nights when Robbie wore his blue jeans tight and the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight

I remember when rock was young, me and Robbie had so much fun
Holding hands and skimming stones
Had an old black Caddy but still lived at home
But the biggest kick I ever got was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock
While the other kids were Rocking ’Round The Clock, we were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock
Well, Crocodile Rocking is something shocking when your feet just can't keep still
I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will
Oh lawdy mama, those Friday nights when Robbie wore his blue jeans tight and the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight

After he was done, Elton John paused to wipe away a tear while the people in the church applauded for him, a thundering applause. As soon as things settled down, video clips began to play, parts of old home movies we’d gone through and edited together. Frank was in them, looking so young and vital, as was Robbie’s mother, in the days before she became a shrew. It was a nice collage of Robbie’s younger days in Claremont.

As soon as that movie ended, the other curtain opened up, revealing Phil Collins as he began to belt out the words to “Follow You, Follow Me”. It had always been one of our favorite songs, and whenever I heard it, I thought of Robbie. I’d been lucky to snag Phil to perform, as his schedule had been open tonight. As the words to that song flowed, different images flashed on the screen, images of Robbie and me in high school, then in college. There were images of us as a group, including a picture we’d taken on my 18^th birthday trip to Paris, and then there were pictures of our family, of Robbie with the boys. The music, combined with the images, blasted all of my reserves and I sat there, crying quietly, as I watched this tribute to him.

Stay with me,
My love I hope you'll always be
Right here by my side if ever I need you
Oh my love

In your arms,
I feel so safe and so secure
Everyday is such a perfect day to spend
Alone with you

I will follow you will you follow me
All the days and nights that we know will be
I will stay with you will you stay with me
Just one single tear in each passing year

With the dark,
Oh I see so very clearly now
All my fears are drifting by me so slowly now
Fading away

I can say
The night is long but you are here
Close at hand, oh I’m better for the smile you give
And while I live

I will follow you will you follow me
All the days and nights that we know will be
I will stay with you will you stay with me
Just one single tear in each passing year there will be

I will follow you will you follow me
All the days and nights that we know will be
I will stay with you will you stay with me
Just one single tear in each passing year...

After Phil Collins was done, there was more resounding applause, and another set of home movie clips, only this one was much longer, taking us from Robbie’s life at Gunn High School, to our years raising the boys, and through his career at Anders-Hayes.

When that movie was done, the screen went blank, and then an image of the burning South Tower appeared. I’d labored over whether to include this part, but in the end, I left it in. As the building burned, Robbie’s voice came through the speakers, resonating through the church as if Robbie were God himself. It was an edited version of our last conversation, and as the words were spoken, they also appeared on the screen.

“We’re trying to get the fuck out of here, but we don’t have much time,” Robbie said. “This building is about to go.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Brad, the walls are damn near falling apart around us. The noises, the groans of the fabric of the building, are fucking intense,” he said seriously.

“You have to hurry,” I said urgently.

“We’re doing our best,” he said. “How did you get out? I thought you were supposed to be at that conference.”

“We were late because I had to stop and argue with Will,” I said, making him chuckle.

“So that argument saved your life?” he asked pointedly.

“It did,” I admitted.

“Brad, this is looking pretty dire,” he said seriously. “I’m not sure if we’re going to make it out of here.”

“Don’t talk like that,” I said. “You’re almost there.”

“I want to talk to you about what happens if I don’t make it,” he said.

“I don’t want to go there,” I said.

“I need to do this,” he said plaintively.

“Fine,” I agreed.

“Anders-Hayes,” he said, referring to his company. “I want you to promote Alex Danvers to take my place. Give Evelyn his job.”

“Look, there are other guys there who are more qualified than he is…” I began, but he cut me off.

“Yes, there are, but I want you to give him the position,” he said.

“Why?”

“He’s smart, he’s trustworthy, and he has this intuitive knack about the business, kind of like Stef does with tech companies,” he said.

“Fine,” I agreed.

“I know you’ll tell the boys that I love them, and I know you’ll tell Matt that too. You have to be strong for them,” he said.

“Baby…” I objected.

“You have to be there for them,” he insisted.

“I’ll be there for them,” I agreed.

“If I don’t make it, I want to know that you went on and were happy, and when you think about me, I want to know that you’re smiling.”

“I’ll smile when I think of you,” I said.

“We’re on the fourth floor,” he said. “We’re almost there,” he said. “I love you Brad. I love you so much it hurts. I have from the day I first met you, from the day I saw you in the Claremont Commons. I loved you when we weren’t together, and I loved you even when we were fighting. You’ve made me happy, probably the happiest man on the planet.”

“I love you too, baby. You’re my life, you’re part of me,” I said.

And then there was a loud roar through the speakers, we heard Jeanine scream, and then Robbie’s voice said, “Holy shit!”

When Robbie said “Holy shit”, the South Tower on the screen collapsed, emphasizing the finality of his words. After that, the sound went silent, and the only thing on the screen was a picture of Robbie, a picture of him taken at our wedding, and underneath the picture it read: Robert Hayes: 1963-2001.

There was silence in the room but for the noise of people crying, and I was willing to bet there wasn’t a dry eye in the church. I felt like I’d been through a crucible, having experienced that whole thing again, and having it impact me badly, just as it did before. After a full ninety seconds elapsed, the curtain went up again, revealing Blue Oyster Cult as they played the familiar opening strains of “Don’t Fear the Reaper” started repeating.

I’d created a maudlin mood with the tape of Robbie, and everyone was completely depressed, but I didn’t want to end it that way, so I had planned to have some comedy relief. Christopher Walken had willingly obliged me. “Wait!” he shouted from the crowd. “Wait!”

“What?” the lead singer asked him.

Walken rushed up to the front and looked at the band, then grabbed the famous cowbell. “This song needs more cowbell. More cowbell! I’ve got a fever, and the only cure is more cowbell!” He began to beat the cowbell in time to the music, making everyone laugh as they remembered his signature Saturday Night Live skit. “More cowbell!” he demanded.

The band indulged him with a few more intro strains, and then jumped into the song.

All our times have come

Here, but now they're gone

Seasons don't fear the reaper

Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain

(We can be like they are)

Come on baby

(Don't fear the reaper)

Baby take my hand

(Don't fear the reaper)

We'll be able to fly

(Don't fear the reaper)

Baby I'm your man

La, la la, la la

La, la la, la la

Valentine is done

Here but now they're gone

Romeo and Juliet

Are together in eternity

(Romeo and Juliet)

40,000 men and women every day

(Like Romeo and Juliet)

40,000 men and women every day

(Redefine happiness)

Another 40,000 coming every day

(We can be like they are)

Come on baby

(Don't fear the reaper)

Baby take my hand

(Don't fear the reaper)

We'll be able to fly

(Don't fear the reaper)

Baby I'm your man

La, la la, la la

La, la la, la la

Love of two is one

Here but now they're gone

Came the last night of sadness

And it was clear she couldn't go on

Then the door was open and the wind appeared

The candles blew and then disappeared

The curtains flew and then he appeared

(Saying, "Don't be afraid")

Come on baby

(And she had no fear)

And she ran to him

(Then they started to fly)

They looked backward and said goodbye

(She had become like they are)

She had taken his hand

(She had become like they are)

Come on baby

(Don't fear the reaper)

And then it was over. My mind was a blur, as if the extreme emotions had forced my body to secrete some hormone that turned me into a numb robot. I shook hands and smiled grimly. I responded to platitudes with platitudes, I matched friendly gestures with friendly gestures, and even as I did I felt as if I were outside my body, watching myself do it. I’m not sure how long that lasted, but I talked to everyone who was there, so it took a hell of a long time.

“Dad, it’s time to go,” I heard Will say, and even though he was next to me, it seemed like he was a million miles away. I nodded and followed him, Stef, JP, Darius, and JJ out to the car.

We were almost to Malibu before anyone said anything, and it came from JJ. “Dad, I thought the ceremony was really nice.”

That shocked me, to have him say something so positive after he’d been so down on the thing. “Thank you,” I said, and felt myself being pulled back into the real world by his sincerity.

We got to the house and the rest of them vanished, going off to their rooms and thankfully leaving me in peace. I went up to our room, pulled off my suit, and collapsed on the bed, waiting for sleep to overtake me and end my misery. Only it didn’t work that way, and instead I lay there in my bed, face down, torturing myself with memories of Robbie and how much I loved him.

I was surprised when I felt the bed move, but decided that it must be Cody here to give me some sexual healing. I was trying to decide if I wanted that when I felt a hand run up my thigh, and a mouth on my neck, kissing me. Then there was a body pressed up against mine, a naked body, but it wasn’t Cody. I recognized the familiar feel of it, the familiar smell, and even though my mind told me it had to be Marcel, I let myself pretend it was Robbie.

I rolled over onto my back and grabbed him, pulling him on top of me and wrapping my legs around him as he thrust against me. His lips met mine, his tongue probed my mouth, and I sighed with elation as I bonded with my partner once again. I was crazed and in charge, something which seemed to surprise him, as I pushed him off of me and explored his body with my mouth, savoring his smells and his tastes. I got to his ass and rimmed him forever, enjoying the pleasure he got from it as much as my own in doing it, but then I was overcome with the need to make love to him. I grabbed for the lube and slathered it on his hole and my dick, and only then did my mind throw a wrench in my fantasy by reminding me that Marcel wasn’t a bottom, and would need more work. I took time to open him up, to get him ready for my big dick, and then when I went to push in, I went slowly, giving him time to adapt.

Robbie had been used to me, so fucking him had been easy, but Marcel definitely took some time. He reminded me of Robbie in his younger days, when we’d first started having sex as teenagers. “Oh yes!” Marcel said, after I had finally worked my way in. I took that as my clue to begin fucking him, using slow strokes at first, then building up my pace. And then I was off in my fantasy again, and it wasn’t Marcel I was fucking, but Robbie. I was determined to make this last, as if this were the last time I would make love to Robbie, so I did, slowing when either one of us got close, changing positions around to increase the stimulation, and basically fucking like a wild man until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I felt my orgasm building, and reached down to stroke his cock. That also reminded me of Robbie when he was 18, because it was hard as a rock and pulsing in my hand. I ran my hand gently, almost delicately up and down his shaft and across his head, in stark contrast to my huge cock slamming into his ass. He screamed, literally yelled out, and then exploded, shooting his load all over his chest and my hand.

I was so close, and I was so fired up it took all of my restraint to remember to pull out now that he’d come, but he stopped me. “Inside me. Cum inside me,” he said softly in my ear, even as he pulled me back to him. I let out a whimper, then let my body go, and pounded on for a few more seconds until my own orgasm took complete control of my body. I must have blasted a gallon into his ass, I came so hard, and then it was over. I collapsed onto the bed and lay on my back, but only for a minute, then I rolled back over onto him and lay with my head on his chest. It was my favorite position with Robbie, and Marcel must have remembered that, because he wrapped his arm around me and gently stroked my back. I felt so loved, and so happy, until the reality of my situation slowly began to break through.

He could feel my change in mood, and I felt him tense up. I looked up at him and smiled, then kissed him. “Thank you for a wonderful gift.”

“Gift?” he asked playfully. “That was the most amazing…the best sex I have ever experienced.” I grinned at him, my sexual ego fueled by his praise. “But do not tell Lou.”

“If I do, maybe he’ll take it as a challenge,” I said playfully, making him chuckle. We lay there for a while, and I let myself pretend I was with Robbie. I had been such a basket case lately, and I’d gone back and forth with my emotions, between loving him and hating him, but I found serenity by being with him again, by being with his surrogate.

And then I remembered how important he really was to me, and how at times like this, when we were in bed just holding each other, how it was hard to tell where Robbie ended and I began. JP had asked me if I would trade my relationship with Robbie, with all of its ups and downs, and I’d been in a quandary, because I’d forgotten these simple times, these intimate times, that in the end had meant more than I realized. And with that, I answered his question. There was no fucking way I’d have ever traded my time with Robbie. Good times and bad times were part of the package, but being with him like this, knowing that in the end he was my world and I was his, that was more than enough to tip the scales.

Marcel fell asleep and my euphoria faded, but the misery did not return. I got up and threw on some sweat pants and a sweat shirt and made my way down to the great room, thankfully avoiding anyone who may have been awake. I went outside and down the stairs to the beach, where the wind was blowing briskly, pelting me with sand and spray. I gripped one of the support beams to our house and gazed out at the ocean. Off in the distance, too far for me to reach, I imagined that I saw Robbie there, floating above the water.

“Robbie, I love you so much, and you will always be a part of me, but I have to say goodbye to you now,” I told the image.

I could have sworn that the image spoke back to me, and said: “I understand. I love you too, baby. I’ll always be there with you.”