Summer - 9. Brilliant Disguise

After kissing his father goodbye, CJ cleaned up the breakfast area and changed into workout clothes. The previous week had been a nightmare back in South Florida, he’d felt as if his world was ending when Rich threw him out of his house. The asshole couldn’t have realized doing so would be for the best. The way his dad and Papa had made him feel since his arrival in DC, was like a dream. The anxiety about living with a pair of guys, who he had spent only short periods with, disappeared during the initial lunch with them. The warm welcome and acceptance by his fathers and their group of close friends was incredible. Even though they kept making jokes about his age and looks, they treated him as an adult, not as a little kid; that was flattering to no end. CJ kept thinking making up for lost time with his father was going to be very enjoyable.

CJ entered the Field House, wearing a red t-shirt with the distinctive Coca-Cola script logo on it, lifting weights the central thought in his mind. The high he experienced during a hard workout always made him feel great. It helped clear his mind of casual things, allowing him to concentrate on whatever problems he might be facing. His phone already had several gym playlists; he turned on the music and eased himself back into his routine. Tuesday was his day for training arms.

“Hey, man, mind sharing the bench? I’d be happy to spot for you if you need it.” The guy asking was a handsome Asian with a bright smile. CJ hadn’t noticed him come up to him and was a bit surprised at first.

“Ummm, yeah, sure. Sorry, I was a little lost there. It’ll be good to have a spotter, I can try to push the weight up some.” The boy put his fist out for a bump. “I’m CJ.”

“Nice to meet you, CJ, I’m Chatri, Chatri Mookjai. Haven’t seen you around here before, are you an incoming freshman?”

“Nah, I just moved to DC and my dads got me a membership here.” CJ wasn’t sure what the guy’s reaction would be about the two dads thing but it sort of came out of him without realizing he’d said it. “They’ve been members for a while and it’s close enough to home.”

“You got two dads? Sounds cool, a modern family. How come you moved and from where?”

“Moved from Miami. My step-dad had a problem with me being gay. So he and my mom decided I’d be better off living with my gay father and his partner.”

“Are you serious? He had a problem with you being gay? What an ass!” Chatri placed a pair of forty-pound dumbbells next to the preacher curl bench and sat when CJ stood. “But hey, if you’re gay you’re probably better off living with two dads. They’ll be a great support system.”

“What about you, Chatri? Are you a student at GU?”

“Yep, finishing up my second year of medical school. I’m from Seattle―about as far away from Miami as you can get! You miss home?”

“Not really, at least not yet. The move just happened this past week. Anyway, I’ve spent the last couple of summers up here with Dad and Papa, I’m used to DC, and I like the city. I do miss my little brother, and I’m sure it’ll be a pain to start a new high school, but I’ll live.”

“High school?” The older guy stopped halfway through his motion and looked up at the boy next to him, surprise evident on his face. “Wait. How old are you, CJ?”

“Fifteen. Well, fifteen and a half,” replied the boy with a slight grin on his face.

“Hmmm, I would have guessed you were older. Hope you don’t mind working out with an old man, I’m twenty-four.”

“Dude, my dads are twenty-nine and thirty-six, their friends are all around the same age and those are the only people I know in town. You’re the closest person to my age I know!”

Enjoying each other’s company, they compared routines, realized they were on the same rotation and agreed to work out together whenever possible. Having a gym buddy was one of the best ways to remain engaged and challenge complacency. Chatri didn’t seem to mind his new friend being only fifteen. They exchanged numbers, before saying goodbye, and planned on seeing each other Thursday morning. Walking out, CJ did a double-take when he noticed a redhead walking in. Wasn’t that the same guy he had seen yesterday? Hadn’t he also seen him last Friday at the bank?

The remainder of the morning CJ spent doing laundry, rearranging his closet, replying to emails from friends―a few had sent messages wondering where he had disappeared to—and doing a little surfing on the web. In the afternoon, he called both sets of grandparents and filled them in on what was going on since his sudden departure. All of them were aware of the circumstances leading to his move and had made Lourdes and Rich aware of being extremely disappointed with the actions of his step-father. The boy promised to call frequently, so they could keep in touch. He would see them in November, when his fathers took their usual trip to South Florida, over the Thanksgiving Holiday weekend. CJ was confident his dads would continue the tradition, and he would be tagging along.

At an hour he knew Ritchie would be back at the house from school, but neither one of the parents would be home from work yet, he called his brother. He was still upset with his mother for caving to her husband so fast; he was nowhere near ready to talk to her. Rich, he would never talk to again unless it was to show off how well he was doing. Yeah, those feelings were petty, but so what. The intolerance displayed by that man, as he exiled CJ from his home, did not deserve understanding or forgiveness. Plus it was better than beating the shit out of Lieutenant Colonel Dickhead. As the initial shock of being outed had passed, and the acceptance he experienced in Washington built his self-esteem up, his feelings had turned to rage. He wanted to pound the man to the ground.

“Hey, Ritchie! How are you, little brother?”

“CJ! Oh wow! I’m so glad you called. I didn’t recognize the number! What’s up? Do you like Washington? Are you gonna come back soon? Was it good seeing your dad? I love you, big brother, I miss you sooo much.”

“Hey there, champ, give me a chance to answer. And I love you and miss you just as much, okay?”

“This is going to be tough. I’m gonna hafta suck it up and not allow myself to get emotional. Ritchie doesn’t need me breaking down when the kid already sounds stressed about me not being there.”

“I’m doing okay,” CJ continued. “It’s the same place, and the same people, I spend time with every summer. It does feel a bit different this time, but you know I love Washington. How many hours did I spend talking with you about the monuments, the memorials, the museums, and what each one means? Dad and Papa Brett have both been great. They’ve spent all their time with me since I got here. Today’s the first day I’m alone, they had to go back to work.”

“I don’t think now’s the time to mention all the shopping. There’s no need to make Ritchie feel bad or jealous. Just ‘cause his asshole father is a tightwad, why rub it in?”

“What about you? Ready for school to be over soon?” CJ asked.

“Yeah! I think I’m gonna get all As and Bs this semester. Pretty good eh?”

“That’s excellent! Nice way to finish up fifth grade. The Bs in history and English?”

“How’d you know?”

“Hey, it’s my business to know about my little brother.”

“Shit, those are my two best subjects. If we were living together I could tutor him before he took final exams real easy. Fucking Colonel Dickhead and his homophobia. I’ll never forgive him for separating me from my brother. And Mom is just as bad, I’m really starting to hate her guts.”

“What are the plans for the summer, Ritchie? Are Mom and Rich gonna sign you up for baseball camp at the University of Miami again?

“Yeah, that’s gonna be pretty cool. A couple of other guys from school are also going so we can hang out together. And Dad wants me to start taking boxing lessons. I’m not sure about that. What if I get a broken nose?”

“I think that’s a great idea. I’m glad he made me take those Tae Kwon Do classes. I hated them at first, but after a while, I really got into them. There’s this guy up here, an attorney named Rashid who is friends with Dad and Brett, he was a boxer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s British, sounds real funny when he talks. He used to box before going to law school, while he was in college back in London. I’ll give him your email address and ask him to send you a message, maybe he can give you a few pointers.”

“Uncle Rash will totally do it when I ask him, he’s such a cool guy. Boxing’s probably a good idea; at some point, Ritchie might get harassed for having a gay brother.”

It was a brilliant disguise of his emotions, but by the end of the conversation, CJ was near his breaking point. The brothers talked for over an hour; they planned how they were going to keep in touch using Facebook, emails, and phone calls. Ritchie cried when his big brother explained they might not see each other again until Thanksgiving. CJ cried when the conversation was over.

He was still on the sofa― legs drawn up, chin on knees, and arms wrapped around his legs―when César came home from work.

“Hey, buddy. Whatcha doing? How was your day?”

“Nothing. Fine. Okay.” CJ’s mumbled reply came out automatically. He was unaware of how sadness seemed to drip from his voice.

“Hey! What’s wrong, CJ?” César dropped his briefcase, moved towards the couch, and sat next to his son placing an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Come on, what’s going on? You don’t sound fine to me.”

“Nothing, I talked to Ritchie this afternoon, and I’m feeling a little down.”

“Oh, baby boy. It’s okay to feel sad. He’s your brother and it’s fine to miss him.”

“I feel guilty, Dad. I should be there helping him out and taking care of him.”

“And you would, CJ. You would if it was up to you. But unfortunately, it’s not and you can’t blame yourself for it.”

They were still sitting there: CJ with his head resting on his dad’s shoulder, and César hugging his son close to his body, when they heard the rumble of Brett’s motorcycle. Once the marine walked into the house, he must have realized something was wrong. His partner and his kid were sitting quietly on the couch, holding each other, staring out the front window of the room. He silently moved towards the living area and took the spot on the other side of the boy. “What’s up, guys?”

“Hi, Papa. Just sitting here, nothing much going on right now. I talked to Ritchie this afternoon and I’m sad. I miss him a lot.”

‘Dude, I’m sorry. You know something? It’s okay to feel sad. He’s your brother and it’s fine to miss him.”

“Ha! That’s the exact same thing Dad said when I told him.”

“Guess if both of us said the same thing you’re just gonna have to believe it. Why don’t we order pizza in and just hang out together tonight?” Brett had also placed an arm around CJ, the boy was cocooned between the two men and he felt a little light brighten up his dark mood.

“Okay, extra black olives?”

“Yuck! On your half only, thank you very much. Your dad and I don’t like to eat rotten things!”

Over dinner, CJ recounted his meeting with Chatri. “I was surprised at his reaction when I told him why I moved to DC or that I had two dads. All he said was: ‘cool, a modern family.’”

‘Things are changing, buddy,” said Brett. “Each generation has become more accepting of differences in others. Yours will be even better than ours. The influence of religion has gone down as people realize so much of the preaching is about hate.”

Done with dinner, the three emptied all the furniture from the teen’s bedroom and carried it downstairs to the basement. It would all go to a homeless shelter Dragon had suggested. Throughout the entire evening, CJ was somewhat subdued; his dads held him tight between them, as they sat watching TV. That night he slept on their bed, cuddled between the two. It had been a long while since any of them had gone to bed wearing any clothes.

Wednesday was abs and cardio day. CJ did some abdominal exercises while waiting for his new furniture to be delivered. The truck arrived fairly early in the morning; CJ remained in the house until it was all the pieces were upstairs in his room. Once the delivery men left, CJ made the bed with the new linens they’d purchased over the weekend, set his computer up on the desk, and tried to finish organizing the clothes still in the duffle bags he had traveled with—mostly t-shirts it seemed.

Sometime prior to lunch, before the day became oppressively hot, he donned running shoes and went for a run. He lightly jogged towards the university campus. Past the main entrance, on Healy Lawn, he was stretching when he noticed the ubiquitous redhead, who seemed to pop up almost daily, walking into one of the buildings surrounding the main campus lawn.

Once he felt loose enough, CJ ran up and down the paths almost entirely devoid of students after the end of the semester. He went between the buildings, some dating back to the nineteenth century, some only a few years old. He ran around the on-campus cemetery where he knew many of the Jesuit priests associated with the school had been buried―he had no specific destination in mind. After a couple of miles, sweat poured from him, he slowed down to a walk for his cooling-off period. His stamina was for shit, Miami was as flat as a ten-year-old girl’s chest, and he was not used to the hilly terrain. It would take some time before he could manage his normal five to ten miles.

The day was punctuated by a Miami HEAT victory, in the first game of their playoffs series, against the Indiana Pacers. The win had the youngster jumping up and down with excitement, screaming his head off; his fathers were happy to see him acting his age at last and enjoying simple pleasures. Sometimes they felt as if their son was fifteen going on thirty.

After training legs on Thursday, Friday was back and shoulders day. CJ arrived at the gym to find Chatri already stretching. The tall medical student looked up and smiled when he saw his new friend walking toward him.

“What the fuck, little boy? You sleep in this morning? Good to see you up and about.”

“Thanks, but who the fuck you calling little? You ain’t seen me naked and I’m sure you’ve heard what they say about Cubans and the size of our equipment.”

“Not that many Cubans in Seattle, but whatever it is you’re bragging about, remember stereotypes don’t always fit.” The two young men had fallen into a relaxed friendship in the past few days, the banter between them was punctuated with smirks and chuckles. “I’m tall and have a hairy chest and that’s not supposed to happen in Asians.”

“So, your mom is tall and hairy?”

“Why you, pipsqueak! I’ll have you know Mom seldom shaves more than once a week!”

The back and forth lasted the entire time it took them to work their way through the day’s routine. Chatri explained his mother was from Thailand and not very tall so his height came from his American father. Nearing the end, CJ decided he liked this guy and he could end up being a good friend, even if they were nine years apart in age.

“Hey, Thai boy, you have plans tonight?”

“Food, TV, and bed―starving student here with limited funds, not one for drinking all night and chasing easy women anyway. Got a girl back home in Seattle, and we’re trying not to be tempted. She’s moving here this summer following her graduation from college; Dr. Mookjai is going to have himself a nurse as a wife. Sad part is I’ll be missing the graduation ceremony. We need the money so we can move. As soon as she gets here we’ll be looking to find an apartment for us and get her working, my scholarships, stipend, and loans can’t support two.”

“You being tall and all, you must know what basketball is, correct?” Not waiting for an answer, CJ kept talking almost without a breath. “Tonight’s the second NBA playoff game between Indiana and Miami and my dads are going to a dinner party I’m skipping. How does pizza, on the floor, at my place sound? We watch the game, and you can raid the beer supply. My treat.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Let me get dinner though―carry out Thai. There’s a small restaurant here in town owned by a third cousin once removed or something like that. They always treat me right. Stuff ain’t half bad either, they use fresh cat.”

“Har, har, har. Love me some Pad Thai though, anything else you get to decide on. But let me pay for it since it’s my place and I invited you.”

“Nah, as I said they treat me right. No matter what I order, my bill is always nine ninety-nine including tax. I flip ‘em a twenty so it’s mighty cheap since I get a doggy bag big enough for a couple more meals.”

“Fine, I’ll text you our address as soon as we get done. It’s within walking distance from here.”

“Hmm, the high rent district, eh?”

“If you say so. My dads bought the place a few years back, I just live there. I’m sure they’re well off, but having just moved in with them, I don’t know much about their money.” CJ fibbed a bit about his knowledge, he didn’t want to give the impression he was bragging about his dads being rich.

“Damn, kiddo, your family must be loaded to afford a place in Georgetown this close to the school. The University has been buying all the houses around here for a while, and I know prices have gotten real high. Not that it makes any difference to me. You’re still a wet-behind-the-ears-runt, although there’s hope as long as you listen to my sage advice.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you hairy ape.”

“I ain’t that hairy, see you tonight.”

“I’ll get it,” shouted Brett, strolling towards the front door. The young man standing at the entrance was physically impressive. Tall, dark-haired, with shoulders almost twice as wide as his waist; he had the ideal V-shaped torso valued by bodybuilders. But he was lean, not bulky. Brett’s quick appraisal made him think the kid could compete if he wanted to.

“Hi, Brett Davenport,” he said extending a hand in greeting. “You better be Chatri, and the bag at your feet better be Thai carryout, or CJ needs to work on describing his friends better. Come in. Come in, please. Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for having me, sir,” replied the younger man as he slightly bowed, and pressed the palms of his hands together in a prayer-like fashion. The wai was the traditional Thai greeting, he later explained. “You're the Marine Captain, sir?”

“Yep, that would be me.” Stepping aside, so the visitor could enter the house, he shouted up the stairs, “Emperor, get down here and meet our next physician. We’ll be ready once Doc retires.”

“Wow, your residence is beautiful, sir.”

“Thank you, and it’ll be Brett and César or you’ll be banished. Heck, man, we’re not much older than you. Make sure sonny boy gives you a tour, and that he includes the bathroom in our room, it’s my favorite spot in the entire house.”

“Hey, Chatri, I’m César, the little troublemaker’s other father. Sorry we can’t chat, we’re headed to a birthday party and cutting it close, don’t want to be late. I’ll have the kid invite you over for dinner one night next week. I can remember being in college and the type of crap I ate. We’ll get a lot of Cuban food in you on your next visit.”

“Bye, Dad. Bye, Papa,” said CJ kissing both men on the cheek as they walked out the back to the garage. “Come on, bud, the game starts soon and this boy is starving.”

CJ led his friend to the kitchen area where they spread out the containers and piled the food on plates they placed on small trays. The carry-out bag had chopsticks and napkins. CJ took a Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator for himself and offered Chatri a beer which his guest accepted. They headed towards the front room and the couches in front of the TV which was already on but had the sound muted.

“Dude, you know I ain’t gay, but I can recognize good looks when I see them. Both your dads are studs! And your biological father is built like that brick shithouse everyone mentions, but I’ve never seen in real life. No wonder you look the way you do, those are pretty outstanding genes you carry.”

“Thanks. Now shut up and let’s eat!”

The food was good, but the game sucked―the HEAT lost. The new friends still enjoyed themselves, and by the end of the night, they knew each other a bit better.