9.11 - 69. Chapter 69

November 3, 2001

Tribeca, NYC

It was cold in the morning, here on the roof. I thought that wearing my sweats would keep me warm, but I was still shivering. I was sitting on the same bench my father had been on last weekend, staring off into the void where the twin towers used to be. I’d been up here for at least an hour, my eyes focused on the emptiness, while my brain relived those horrible events of 9-11. I cried again, got angry again, and then cried some more. This was getting really old.

I heard footsteps and that pulled me from my internal torture session. “You were gone when I woke up. I wondered where you went,” Zach said.

“I came up here,” I said, like that wasn’t completely obvious.

“You OK?” he asked, as he sat next to me and put his arm around me. I leaned in against him, his body warming mine, his presence like a balm to my soul.

I nodded and stared at where the towers had been. “That was the worst day of my life.”

“Dude that was the worst day of everyone’s life. Everything that happens to you is extreme, so for you, it was just hella bad.”

I actually chuckled. “Everything I do is extreme?”

“I said everything that happens to you is extreme,” he corrected. “A lot of kids run away from home. Most of them don’t fuck up a Ferrari and a Porsche first.” That actually did make me laugh.

“I get your point.”

“So why are you up here?”

I sighed. “Because I have to get a grip on this thing. Because it haunts me every day of my life, every fucking minute. The tears and shit, that was bad enough, but these rages are scary as hell.” He paused, as if digesting what I had said.

“Dude, what if I came out to visit you over Thanksgiving…” he began.

“Are you?” I asked hopefully.

“I don’t know. We’re playing a what-if game here. Work with me,” he said, pretending to be annoyed, and making me giggle.

“Fine,” I agreed.

“What if I came to visit and Matt fucked me?” I let that sort of glance off me, and then I thought about it, and got really pissed.

“I’d kill both of you,” I said, with real venom in my voice.

“Why would you kill me? I’m not your brother,” he asked.

“Because I care about you, and if you did that, you’d just be doing it to hurt me,” I spat.

“Or because Matt is hot,” he said, reminding me that everything wasn’t about me.

“Whatever,” I said, being bitchy.

“You care about me?” he asked, grinning while he raised an eyebrow.

“Douche,” I said, even as I shook my head at him and felt the anger fade. “What’s your point?”

“You’re beating the shit out of yourself for getting pissed off at Matt and that asshole,” he said, referring to Tony. “Dude, you should be pissed off at them. You’re supposed to be pissed off at them. They totally dicked you over.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” I said, referring to the rage.

“If you slept with Brent, I’d be just as pissed off at the two of you,” he said.

“Only Brent? Not Trent? Not Zeke?” I asked playfully.

“The other dudes are lame. Brent’s the only one hot enough to have a chance with you,” he joked, cracking me up.

“Does that mean you care?” I teased.

He turned my face so I was looking into his eyes, those gorgeous violet-blue eyes. “I care,” he said sincerely.

I ran my fingers through his thick blond hair and smiled at him. “Good.”

“You’re giving yourself shit for losing it over what those guys did to you. Dude, the only reason Tony did that was to hurt you. And the only reason Matt did it was to piss you off. You should be pissed off at them. You should fucking hate their guts,” he spat. And the rage was back again.

I gazed back off into the void, while his presence helped me calm down. He was saying that these anger spells weren’t just some aberration, and I wasn’t some freak show. He was saying it was totally normal for me to be this pissed off. I thought about how mad I’d been about some of the more stupid shit that had happened to me, and the anger I felt toward Matt and Tony was a lot worse than that, but a lot more deserved. “I don’t know... if Matt comes to me and says he’s sorry, and really means it... I don’t know if even then I’ll be able to forgive him.”

“Then that’s the price he has to pay,” Zach said philosophically.

“How do I get over that?” I asked, gesturing at where the towers used to be.

“Last year I dislocated my elbow during football practice. You ever have that happen?” I shook my head. He rolled up his sleeve to show me his left elbow. “It’s the most painful thing I’ve ever dealt with. There was this immediate searing pain, then an intense pain that lasted for a long time. I couldn’t feel my arm. Hell, I didn’t even have a pulse in that arm.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, stupid and meaningless words that he didn’t seem to hear.

“There’s a lot of pain in football, but nothing like that. A lot of players will tell you that’s the injury that hurts the most, more than a torn Achilles. But it happened to me, and I endured it. So now when I’m out there, and I’m facing some huge as fuck linebacker who’s about to pound me into the turf, I sneer at him, knowing that there’s nothing he can do to me that I can’t take.”

I looked at him and blinked, then stared at where the towers had been. “You’re saying that nothing could be worse than that, and once I make it through, I’m immune to pain.”

“Not immune. It just means you can handle it. It means that there’s nothing out there that will ever be able to beat you,” he said. I thought about that, and smiled. It was like I was trapped in a well or something, surrounded by all this grief and agony, and he’d tossed me a rope and pulled me out.

I looked into his eyes, and brushed the backs of my fingers across his cheek. “Thanks.”

He smiled and kissed me. Then he shocked the shit out of me, taking me by surprise and tackling me. “You have grass on your deck,” he joked, as he pinned me down on it.

“What the fuck?” I demanded. But then he kissed me again, and started grinding his body against mine, fueling the lust we had for each other. He rolled me over so my stomach was pressed against the frigid grass, and slid the back of my pants down just enough that he could slide his dick into me. And then, out on the open rooftop, on this sunny Saturday morning, he made love to me. Even as I felt my orgasm rising, I looked off at where the towers had been, and smiled, actually smiled, as I thought about how Robbie would have laughed and smiled back at me if he could see me.

November 3, 2001

Tribeca, NYC

I made a cup of tea, Earl Grey, taking time to get it just how I wanted it. Tea took more effort than coffee, but it was worth it. I’d picked up drinking it from Stef, who favored it over coffee. Thinking about him made me smile, and I resolved to call him later on. I walked up to the deck slowly so I didn’t spill the tea I’d just worked to make. I’d been up here last night until the cold had driven me downstairs. Until last weekend, it had seemed like a prison, a tortuous place to go and crush my psyche. But after that epiphany, all that had changed. Now it was almost like a shrine, a Zen place I could go and feel centered. It was almost as if the spirit of Robbie, Jeanine, and Hank were here with me.

I opened the door, prepared to feast on the sights of the lower Manhattan skyline, but instead I got a much different view. There, on the grass were Zach and Will. Zach had Will pinned down I could see skin exposed where Will’s pants had been pulled down. It was almost certain that Zach was fucking him. Even though I didn’t see actual penetration, there was no mistaking those movements, that smooth and rhythmic motion as they undulated their bodies together. I blinked, quietly backed up and closed the door, then went downstairs to enjoy my tea in the main room. It had big windows, and while it wasn’t quite as spectacular as the roof, it was nice in its own way.

Will was right; the place smelled like paint. I noticed that some things had already changed. I’d thought the place was a little gauche before, and wrote that off to Hank’s tackier taste, but it would be sad to lose that familiar, homey feel she and Jeanine had given the place. I chuckled to myself. Nothing I said would stop Stef from redecorating it. He was like a one man remodeling studio. There were very few places we owned that were immune from his renovating wrath. JP’s office, the dining room, and the great hall at Escorial were the only places that were consistent, virtually unchanged.

I pulled out my phone and called him. It was early in California, but his personal schedule was like clockwork, and even if his wasn’t, JP’s was. “Good morning,” Stef said, sounding slightly groggy.

“Good morning,” I replied cheerfully.

“Where are you?” he asked, wondering why I was in a good mood.

“I’m at the condo. It smells like paint,” I grumbled.

“Do you like the colors?” he asked.

“You picked an excellent palette,” I said. “I’m sitting here in the main room, and the soft blue you chose makes the room seem light and airy.”

“I am glad you like it,” he said, happy to have his excellent taste validated. “I would have thought you would escape from the fumes by going up on the roof.”

“I did, but it was occupied,” I said.

“The whole roof was occupied?” he asked. “You were throwing a party there at 9:30 on Saturday morning?”

“No; Will and Zach were up there having sex,” I said calmly. I noted with interest that the calmness was genuine, and that I wasn’t upset about it. I’d walked in on some guy fucking my son, and it hadn’t really bothered me at all. Remarkable.

“Did you watch them?” he asked, giving me shit.

“Not for long,” I said, unable to hide my irritation, even though I knew he wanted to hear that in my voice.

“How long?” he asked.

“Long enough to figure out what they were doing,” I said, being way too bitchy. That just made him chuckle.

“It appears there is a genetic weakness for Hayes men in our family.”

“You think it’s just a genetic thing, and it has nothing to do with the fact that Zach is incredibly handsome?” I challenged.

“I am sure there are multiple factors involved,” he said airily.

“Be nice to me, or I’ll tell Will not to let you take Zach shopping,” I taunted.

“Has the earth realigned, such that when you tell Will to do something, he now does it?” Stef asked, making me laugh.

“Fine,” I agreed grumpily.

“I heard Matt and Will had an unpleasant encounter at breakfast yesterday,” he said changing the subject.

“And on the plane Will flayed Wade and me alive for raising the issue, so you may want to think about that before you decide to bring it up with him,” I said. “You know how he had those attacks, where he’d just start crying?”

“He is still having those?” Stef asked, concerned.

“He is,” I said. “But now he’s having fits of rage as well. They started with this deal with Matt and Tony. And I can’t say that I blame him. I’m going to have to really work hard to be civil to Matt after this bullshit.”

“I think you must remember that teen drama can be amusing, but one must not allow oneself to get involved in it,” Stef said, attempting to write it off.

“Nope, this is different,” I insisted. “One of my sons is out there, fighting to deal with all this shit, really struggling, and instead of helping him out, like a brother would, or in Tony’s case, like a friend should, they fucked him over instead.”

“That is unfortunate,” Stef said, getting why I was so annoyed, and getting annoyed himself.

“Will equated it to being in a fight, and when he looked to Tony and Matt for help, they jumped in for the other guy,” I paraphrased. “Evidently Zach is reading Julius Caesar in his English class, so he and Will have christened Matt with a new nickname: Brutus.” I’d heard them talking about it in the kitchen last night when they’d been rummaging around for snacks.

“So you have taken up this battle yourself?” Stef asked, sensing my outrage.

“You and Dad can be all forgiving, and go all gushy over those two, but the best Tony can hope for from me is that I don’t consciously try to destroy him,” I said, with real venom in my voice. It was really tempting to make a few phone calls and have his face rearranged so it wasn’t so pretty. Let’s see him be the star fuck on campus after that.

“What about Matt?” Matt was tougher, because I considered him to be my stepson, and that brought Robbie’s legacy into things. If he avoided my wrath, it was because of that, because I owed it to Robbie to try to watch out for him. And because, despite my anger at him, I understood how painful this was for him, and how he was struggling.

“I’m going to do my best to be civil,” I pledged. “I think a lot of that will depend on how easily Will gets over this tailspin they’ve sent him into.”

“Perhaps Zach will help.”

“He can’t hurt,” I said to Stef. “I had this whole speech ready for Will on how he should watch out for this guy, and not let himself get sucked into Zach’s charming web.”

“But then you realized that such pontificating from you, if it had any effect, would do nothing but drive Will into Zach’s arms?” Stef asked acidly, reminding me of the dangers of trying to control my son.

“No, I spent a little time with Zach, and I think that if I were Will, I’d say fuck it, and let myself get drawn in anyway. He is one sexy guy,” I admitted.

Stef laughed. “You should tell Will that. He would appreciate your candor.”

“Maybe I will.”

“So what are you going to do today while they engage in carnal bonding?” he asked. I rolled my eyes at his terminology.

“They’re not going to fuck all day. We’re going to go out and see New York,” I told him. “It’s supposed to be a nice day. No rain anyway, and temperatures pushing into the high 50s.”

“Good luck,” he said. “I am not sure, based on what you have shared with me, that it makes much difference to you, but Matt and Frank went away for the weekend.”

“Where did they go?”

“You care?” he asked, probing in his annoying way.

“About Frank,” I said. It was easy for me to pretend like I didn’t care about Matt, but both Stef and I both knew I did.

“I am not sure, but I think they went to Santa Cruz. Your mother seems relieved to have some time to herself.” Watching after Frank, when he was moping around, would have taxed her patience severely.

“I hope they have a good time,” I said insincerely, then changed the subject. “I finished gifting those shares of Google to Will, Darius, and JJ’s trusts.”

“I have done the same with my shares,” Stef said. “I am convinced they will be worth a fortune, and there is no need for us to keep them and have our heirs pay estate taxes on the gains.”

“I agree,” I said. I’d learned a long time ago not to argue with Stef about his instincts, and he was convinced Google was a goldmine. “Have you had any luck buying out any of the other early investors?”

“I have not, but that does not mean I will not ultimately be successful,” he said, making me chuckle.

“How bad was our hit on Enron?” I asked.

“We completed selling off our shares on October 25,” he said. “When you factor in our corporate holdings, along with all the combined family trusts, we lost fifteen million.”

“Are you sure this isn’t a case of the markets just overreacting?” I asked.

“I have never liked Ken Lay and his cronies, and I do not trust them,” Stef said. “The more that comes out about this, the more it looks like they were not just playing games with their financials; it looks like they were lying.”

“That’s not good,” I said. “Dynegy is looking to come in and be their white knight.”

“I think that if you want to consider a play for the carcass of Enron, then a better move than buying their stock would be to look into purchasing stock in Dynegy.”

“But you don’t think that’s a good idea?”

I could visualize him shaking his head as he spoke. “I think that this whole thing will end up being a nightmare. We have taken our lumps on this one, and written off our losses in Enron. Let us not be like gamblers who double their bets after they lose, but instead, let us acknowledge that we made a mistake with our investment in Enron and just move on.”

“That sounds good. I’m going to stay in Connecticut this week to help Jordan out with Zeta. I’ll be back in the office next week to work on those new deals Luke is putting together,” I said.

“I am sure they will appreciate having you there, just as it will be nice to have you back. We will try to keep a lid on things here while you are gone.”

“Thanks. If you and Dad can manage it, try to keep tabs on Will when he gets home,” I said. “I’m worried about him. This whole thing with Matt has impacted him a lot more than he’s letting on.”

“We will attempt to be supportive without making him think we are trying to run his life,” Stef said, making me laugh.

“Good luck with that.” I heard the clumping footsteps of teenagers. “I have to go. The morning fuck on the roof is over and we have to plan our day now.”

He laughed. “Enjoy yourselves.” I hung up the phone and turned my attention to Zach and Will.

“Hey there!” Will said cheerfully. He was flushed, but I didn’t give him shit about it. I’d do that later, when it was just the two of us. I understood his deal with Zach, who had to be a straight guy in public, and probably at least partially in his own mind. “Who were you talking to?”

“Stef,” I said. “I had to tell him how amazing Zach was at the game last night.”

Zach blushed. “That’s nice of you to say.” It was hard not to look at him and see similarities between him and Robbie, but Robbie had always been sort of awkward, which made him cute in a dorky kind of way. Zach was just flat out sexy.

“So what are our plans today? Did you have anything you wanted to do, or are you willing to let me take control of the day?” Will laughed at that.

“We should let him be in charge,” Will said to Zach. “It’s about the only way he’s happy.”

“That’s not the only way,” I joked. They smiled at me, glad I was in a good mood. “Go get ready. I went down to the corner bakery and picked up some croissants and pastries. You’ll find them in the kitchen.”

“Food,” Zach said to Will in a meaningful way, and they all but ran to the kitchen. They ate and went back to Will’s room and got ready. They were actually a lot faster than I thought they’d be, so we were able to walk out the door of the condo by 11am.

“So where are we going?” they asked as we left the condo.

I handed them bus passes. “We’re going to do the hop-on, hop-off tour of New York.”

Zach laughed. “Dude, a millionaire going on a bus tour with all the other tourists? Seriously?”

I laughed with him. “Multimillionaire, bitch,” I corrected, cracking them up. We got on the bus, a double-decker affair, and went up on the upper deck where we managed to score seats. A nice older lady sat next to me and chatted about her daughter and son-in-law, for the most part, while I watched the city sights, and also watched Zach and Will, who sat in front of me.

As I listened to the tour guide ramble on about the sights and neighborhoods we passed, I began to appreciate what a vibrant city New York really was. I’d spent time here, but never really bonded with the place. I was a Californian, and tended to view the East Coast with a jaded eye, a place of hidebound and outdated attitudes. Yet New York wasn’t like that at all. The hustle and bustle, and the true beauty of the city, began to entrance me. It would be so easy to blame it for the bad things that had happened here. I remembered my visit here with Robbie when he was at Princeton, and I’d had to fight Neil to get him back. That hadn’t been the best of times. Then I remembered the time I’d come here with him, on the trip when I’d learned about my biological father. We’d had such a good time, and that was etched forever in my memory as the trip where I actually began to deal with my past childhood traumas. You had to take the good with the bad. But actually spending time here, touring around with the masses, it was impossible not to appreciate New York City.

While that was interesting, it was not as interesting as they dynamic between Zach and Will. I’d been so worried about Will, and those fears had only increased on our plane flight out here, but here with Zach, he was genuinely happy. They joked and laughed together, and to the normal outsider looking at them, they’d just seem like two friends, but I knew better, and I could tell that the bond between them was much deeper.

“My son works in Connecticut,” the lady next to me said, moving on from her daughter to her other offspring.

“That’s nice,” I said, in the futile hope my comment would be sufficient to end her rambling.

“He’s a big shot at a company that makes all kinds of electronic devices they use in submarines and missiles.”

“Which company?” I asked, knowing the answer before she gave it.

“I don’t remember, but their logo looks like a pitchfork.”

“Triton?” I asked.

“That’s it!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “You’ve heard of them?”

“I have. What’s your son’s name?”

“Chris Mendoza,” she said. She had distinct Hispanic features, but I hadn’t thought she was Puerto Rican.

“I know him well,” I said, then took the plunge. “I’m Brad Schluter.”

“Why does your name sound familiar?” she asked.

“I’m the chairman of Triton,” I said.

“You’re the big boss? The one he had dinner with?” she asked, amazed.

“I’m not the big boss. That’s Jordan Pfinster’s job,” I corrected, a waste of breath on my part. “But I did have dinner with Chris. He’s a sharp young guy.”

“Yes he is,” she said proudly. “I’m Valentina Mendoza, but you have to call me Val. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, and shook her hand. “Call me Brad.”

“Chris said he was going to bring you into the city for dinner, but you didn’t want to come here after what happened to you during 9-11,” she said, probing. Did Chris tell his mother everything? I’d have to give him shit about being a momma’s boy.

“I’m doing better with it,” I said politely. “I’m here with my son and his cousin, showing them that this is a great city despite what happened.” She nodded.

“I’m here with my sister and her grandkids,” she said, gesturing to a rowdy family. “They’re bugging the crap out of me.” That made me chuckle.

“Is that why you’re sitting by yourself?” I asked.

“Don’t tell them that,” she said in a conspiratorial way that was pretty funny. “It’s lunch time. Come on. Let’s get off at the next stop.”

“Why?”

“I’ll take you to one of the best restaurants in the city,” she said. Before I could argue, she went to talk to her sister.

I leaned forward and tapped Will. “We have a lunch date.”

“I heard,” he said, snickering at me. I glanced over at Val, who was pulling her phone out even as she had an animated conversation with her sister.

“Who’s Chris Mendoza?” Zach asked.

I frowned at him, and that made Will chuckle. “Some guy he’s dating,” Will said, giving me shit.

“He’s a very bright financial analyst, and I took him out to dinner to explain the process Triton will go through when it goes public in a year or so,” I said formally.

“Fifty bucks says he’s hot as fuck,” Will challenged.

“He’s not as hot as Zach,” I said, which made Zach grin and blush at the same time.

“Duh,” Will said. “No one is as hot as Zach.”

I looked at Zach in an appraising way. “You may be right,” I said, as if I was a judge in one of JJ’s skating competitions and I was giving him a grade.

“Knock it off,” Zach said.

The bus stopped, and Val was there to shuffle us off and down a couple of blocks to a restaurant that looked pretty insignificant from the outside. We went inside and she took complete charge, telling the people where we’d sit, and ordering some appetizers for us. The place was kind of kitschy in the same way that an Italian restaurant was when they had those plastic red and white checked tablecloths, only in a Puerto Rican kind of way. Some guy came out, dressed like the chef and he must have been the owner, because he came over to our table and gave Val a big hug.

“Good to see you,” he said to her in Spanish. “What’s the big deal?”

“This is one of the big shots at Triton, so be nice to him so you don’t ruin Christopher’s career,” she joked with him in that language. Will and I exchanged knowing looks, but gave no sign that we understood what they were saying.

“I’m surprised Chris didn’t just sleep with him instead,” the man growled.

“I’m sure he tried,” she replied, giving him a dirty look. “He usually does.”

“He usually succeeds,” the man said, with a grimace. I couldn’t tell if he was disgusted because Chris was gay, or because he was a slut.

Will was about to bust out laughing at this thing, and I knew he was going to give me some major shit about Chris. “Did you sleep with Chris?” he asked me in his fluent Spanish. Val and the man stared at him, horrified.

“No, I didn’t,” I responded in the same language. “I told you it was just a business dinner.”

“Sometimes Anglos speak Spanish,” Zach said to Val, and while his Spanish wasn’t as good as mine or Will’s, it was pretty good.

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” Will said to Zach, fortunately taking the heat away from Val and the man she’d been talking to. He took that opportunity to escape back to the kitchen.

“It’s what I took in school,” he said with a shrug, then switched back to English. “My other choices were French and German. Spanish seemed like it would be the most useful.”

“And so it was,” I said in English, and we all reverted back to that language.

“I am so sorry,” Val said, and was really upset. “I did not mean to offend any of you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, to reassure her. “The only one you probably would have irritated was Chris.”

“Don’t tell him what we said!” she insisted.

“I’ll consider it, as long as you help us order,” I said, smiling. “What’s good here?”

“Let me order for you,” she said. She summoned the waitress over and ordered a shitload of food for us, and we began a huge food orgy, one that lasted for almost an hour. She was right; the food was amazing. We were just finishing up when I saw Chris Mendoza walking up to the table.

“I heard you were in town,” he said with a smile, and then turned to pay attention to his mother.

“Dude, you owe me fifty bucks,” Will said. Zach snaughed. I rolled my eyes, but I was tired of being cooped up in a restaurant, so I decided to move our day along.

“You missed lunch,” I said to Chris. “We’ve got a city to see.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said. He didn’t ask, he just assumed that he’d be welcome. It was assertive and sexy.

“Here, take my bus pass,” his mother said. “I’m too full to climb up those damn stairs.”

I paid the bill, leaving a huge tip, and then stood up to go. “It was nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for the great lunch recommendation.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “And thank you for lunch.”

“Not a problem,” I said, and shuffled our party out of the restaurant and back to the bus. We managed to squeeze onto the next one, and after a few stops, we scored seats up on the upper deck again.

“You slumming today?” Chris asked me.

“I figured if I was going to be a tourist, I might as well act like one,” I said. It was kind of fun, being out and about like a regular person, and not ride around in limos and private jets.

“This is about as touristy as you can get,” he said, shaking his head. Having Chris along ended up being a lot of fun, because I had someone to talk to and hang out with, and because he augmented what the guide said, and told us when the guy was spouting bullshit.

We toured around the city, took a break back at the condo for an hour or so, and then had a nice dinner. After that, I took all of them to see Urinetown at Henry Miller’s Theater. We caught a cab back to the condo, and Will and Zach politely ran off after saying a quick goodbye to Chris, as if giving him an opportunity to get in my pants. “You want to take this cab back to your car?” I asked.

“No,” he said as he got out of the taxi. “I took the train into the city.”

“Get a car to take you back,” I said, and pulled out my cell phone.

“I’m fine,” he said, stopping me. “Thanks. I had fun today.”

“So did I,” I said, and felt myself blushing for some stupid reason.

He leaned in and gave me a kiss. It was really nice; he had strong lips, and there were no tongues involved. “I’ll see you on Monday,” he said as he broke off our contact, then turned and strutted away in his confident manner, leaving me staring after him. I walked up the stairs to the condo, with the taste of his lips still on mine, shaking my head at what a player he was.