Landfall - 10. A Night of Surprises

Memorial Day Monday. Gonna be a busy day.

Dave reviewed the plans for the day over breakfast by the pool. We'll check out of the B&B at 3, head to the local airport, fly back to Dallas, get into lodging there, and prepare to stay the estimated month or so for the trial. Dave also reminded Greg, Jonathan, and me to be on full alert for anything off-kilter during the day or as we travel. Think the incident yesterday of the guy wanting to do a Facebook selfie with me is making everyone just a little paranoid—and a little more aware of how much can happen, and how quickly problems can occur as this storm approaches landfall. Those winds are definitely picking up.

Spent the rest of the morning by the pool, and despite rewarding ourselves with mimosas or bloody marys, tensions were high. Everyone knows Dallas is a pivot point on all of this. Greg and Jonathan brought back sandwiches and pasta salad from a local deli after running errands to finalize their trip plans.

We broke up after lunch, and went back to our rooms to get ready for check out. Dave and I took a quick nap and finished packing. Met Greg and Jonathan in the lobby and headed to the airport.

Jonathan pulled the Suburban onto the tarmac; Greg and Dave jumped out, sandwiched me between 'em, and escorted me into the plane. After I was on board, the guys unloaded our bags and threw 'em into the hold. Jonathan pulled the Suburban off to one side of a hanger, boarded--and we were off. Fast, efficient workers.

We talked on board plane, Dave allowed us one drink each and we tried to relax. Landed at Love Field in Dallas, were met with another Suburban, with driver and another guy that Dave had arranged to ferry the Suburban to us. Luggage unloaded, the driver left with his buddy. Dave then allowed Greg, Jonathan, and me off the plane and we piled into the Suburban with Dave driving.

“Hate to be so secretive, Barry, but I had to be careful. If you think about it, no one has seen you enter or leave the plane but us. It's probably paranoia on my part, but think the fewer folks that know we're here, the better.”

“I'd wondered about that whole 'get on the plane first, get off last' thing, so glad ya explained it. Makes sense. Now, where are we headed?”

At that moment we turned from Mockingbird onto Stemmons Expressway, and topped a small rise in the highway—and got a full panoramic view of downtown Dallas, lit by the golds and bronzes of the setting sun. Reunion Tower already had the lights on its “ball” turned on, and the whole city glimmered. Whatever is ahead, I know this may be one of my last views of this great, vibrant city. I tried to burn this image into my mind—so much so that I missed what Dave had said about our lodging. “Sorry, I missed what ya said, Dave...would you repeat it?”

“We maintain a few units at a condo complex downtown close to the Federal Building. It's a smaller, private complex. Many of the units' owners are out-of-town businessmen who regularly visit Dallas, enough so they can justify purchase of a unit for stay-overs or entertainment. A few of the units are leased to the government for use by bank examiners, EPA site inspectors, or other employees who need longer-term places to stay. There are full-time residents on floors below us, but our floor is fully corporate leased, and as fate would have it, no other units on our floor have guests in them right now.”

We're there in minutes. Pull up to a high-rise building, maybe 20 or so floors, balconies dotting the outside. There's a parking garage entrance with keypad access to the elevator. Dave jumps out, I get out, and arrive just as the elevator doors open. He and I get in, and he's yelling back to the guys, “I'll be back to get the bags in a few minutes,” just as the doors close.

Dave enters a code on the keypad inside; we're whisked directly to the 14^th floor. Doors open, follow Dave to the end of the hall, he opens the door with another keypad by the doorknob, and ushers me in.

Inside is typical of what you'd find in an extended-stay Marriott; comfortable, relaxed. There's a small kitchen over to the right of the entrance, a giant combo living/dining room ahead, with a door off to either side of the living area opening to the bedrooms. An additional door on the immediate left opens to a guest bath shared with the guest bedroom. The entire outside wall of the living area is glass, and opens onto a full balcony with patio table and chairs. Nice.

“Haven't gotten the fridge stocked yet, so we'll hafta order from the restaurant up on the top floor tonight, Barry. The food is good, they'll deliver it to us, and bill the room.”

There's a knock at the door. Three raps, a pause, a single rap.

Dave grins. “That's the coded knock. Only folks who know we're here will use it. Don't open the door for anyone else, ok?”

It's Jonathan and Greg with a luggage cart, just like in hotels. “We got all the luggage loaded here, no need to go back down for the stuff.” Greg starts manhandling the bags, looks at Dave. “Where do ya want this?” Dave points to the master bedroom on the right, while Jonathan picks up the remaining bags.

As they come out, I fish around in my pants, find a five, and pass it to Greg, smiling. “Thanks for the great service!” I'm grinning big.

Greg laughs. “It'll at least cover a beer—maybe two if it's happy hour. Thanks, mister!” And we all laugh—he's certainly no bellhop.

“We'll be right next door, so just knock if you need something, sir.” He does a mock bow, and he and Jonathan are gone, presumably unpacking next door.

After everything is unpacked, we both decide a shower would be great to relax with after a long day. I hit the shower first, dry off, pull on boxer-briefs, sitting in the living room cooling off after too hot a shower. Looking over the menu, I've decided on a steak from the restaurant upstairs when Dave comes out, still damp from the shower, black hair combed but still damp, towel wrapped around his waist.

He's looking at the menu, and there's a “whap, whap” at the door. Two knocks. Then silence. Dave's face goes grim.

He goes into the guest bedroom, and lightly knocks in a code on that wall. Dave does 2 knocks, pauses, then 2 more.

He comes out, races into the master, and comes back out with a 9 millimeter pistol in hand. “Hide in the bath,” he mouths to me, then waves the gun toward the master.

Two more raps on the door. Silence. They're still there. I'm frozen in place.

Sounds of shouting can be heard outside; I recognize Jonathan's voice. “Don't fuckin' move. Hands up.” Lowered voice talking.

Seconds later, the coded knock on the door, Dave keeps the gun in hand, but never fully lowers it. He answers the door, still damp and in the towel. Outside are two guys in dress shirts and ties. There are a couple of guys behind them, one in a cowboy hat, the other in casual golf shirt, but they're positioned so I don't see their faces.

“Found these guys outside, Dave. Think you're gonna want to let 'em in.” Jonathan's smiling bigger than I've ever seen, despite the gun in his hand. Greg's right behind him, gun in his hand too, smiling big as well.

“David Alexander, I'm Rusty Dodd, FBI, this is my partner Don Jackson.” Guys in maybe their mid-30's, but at first glance look far younger. He presents his wallet with ID and badge, as does his partner. “Sorry we caught you at a bad time”, as he eyes Dave's near naked damp body, “but we've got some visitors for your guest.” And with that the agents clear the doorway, and I can see the men standing behind them clearly.

Holy fuck, it's my boys!

I'm rooted in the spot again, can't move, crying, the boys race in grab me on either side. They're crushing me, sobbing into my shoulders—and it's the best fucking feeling I've had in a while.

“How? Why.......?” Can't get the words out, both from being overcome with emotion, trying to breathe through my crying; hell, trying to get a breath from the crush of my boys' arms around my chest.

“Let's just say they were awfully persuasive with the Assistant Director.” Rusty is grinning himself. “They threatened to take the whole mess to the press, tell them we were holding them against their will, and were going to reveal details of the case that would derail the prosecution unless we let them be here with their Dad. The director relented, so they're now here for the duration of the trial. He authorized us to use the rooms across the hall so they can see you as much as you want.”

“We've been protecting them the whole time, and we've never seen anyone so determined to make this happen. You've got some great boys here.”

“Thanks...I know. The best.” I'm both laughing and crying, overwhelmed with happiness.

Suddenly realize I'm standing there in my underwear. “Guys, let me put on some clothes. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, ok?” I grab my boys and hug 'em again before heading to the bedroom to quickly get dressed.

Dave says he needs to get dressed too, and follows me into the bedroom. I quickly throw on jeans, t-shirt, still barefoot, and go back out. Dave's back out a few minutes later in t-shirt, shorts, flip-flops.

“Rusty and Don went across the hall to get our stuff unloaded. They'll be back in a few minutes.” Cory comes up and grabs me again. It's like neither he nor Trey can keep their hands off me, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

There's the coded knock at the door again; Dave opens it. Jonathan and Greg are both standing there grinning, Greg with a bottle of Jack in each hand, Jonathan with a tray of glasses and a couple of containers of ice, a two liter bottle of Coke under his arm. “We figured you could use this about now,” Jonathan grins.

“Yup, come on in guys, and get to know my boys.” I'm giddy; such a rush to have 'em here.

We all have drinks, and I introduce Dave, Jonathan and Greg to the boys. (“Oh, you're the Dave that got our gifts to us.”) Trey and Cory fill me in on the friendship they've build with Rusty and Don, who've also returned after changing into casual clothes.

Dave raises his hands in a “stop” motion. “Boys, it's great to have you here, but keep in mind there's no discussion allowed here about anything on the case. It's for your own security, ok? But, I've got to know: what do you know about the case that you were able to convince the Assistant Director of the FBI to allow you here? And did you tell him that information?”

Trey looks at Dave with a guilty look. “Nothing. We don't know anything about the case. We were bluffing....we did what we had to do to get here. But I'm not sorry I lied.”

“Wait, wait. You faked out the Assistant Director of the FBI? And he bought it?” Dave cracks up in laughing, immediately joined by all the agents, then me too. Trey is laughing and high-fives Cory.

“It worked, didn't it?” Cory is giggling. “Didn't think we could pull that off, but we did.”

The agents are all but rolling on the floor, holding their sides.

The rest of the evening is a happy mix of laughter and relaxing, and a great break from the weight of the trial's start tomorrow. We ordered steaks from the restaurant upstairs, had 'em delivered to Jonathan and Greg's room so no one knows we're here,. Everyone relaxed with another drink after dinner.

I was able to get caught up with how the boy's school went, how they're dealing with our separation, what their plans are for the summer. It's all sounding good; the boys seem to be doing ok. Hope they'll still handle things that way when “The Plan” kicks in, whenever that is. The Assistant Director is responsible for that.

By 10 pm, the conversation is starting to die down. Rusty heads across the hall to the unit he'll be sharing overnight with the boys. Don is surprising his wife at home—they live south of Dallas, and she doesn't know he's in town. Jonathan and Greg head to their condo next door, but only after Dave huddles with them near the door to fill them in on plans for tomorrow morning.

After everyone's gone, Dave makes a pit stop in the bathroom. While he's gone, Trey and Cory focus on me from the sofa across the coffee table. “Ok, dad, who is this Dave?” Trey lobs off the question with a knowing look.

“He's my handler during the case, and he's become a good friend. He's a very special man. Why?”

“Look, dad, we saw you both go in the same bedroom to get dressed. When we're talking out here, you're finishing each others' sentences. And when he talks, you're hanging on to every word he says. Hell, when you talked about him on the phone with us, your voice changed, got softer, warmer. So now, dad, anything you wanna tell us?” Dammit, Trey is just as direct as me and Cory hasn't lost his laser stare.

I can feel the heat on my cheeks, and Dave arrives back from the bathroom, takes a look at me, then sits, stoic. No help from him on this.

Dave breaks the silence. “What's going on guys?”

“Dad, are you gay?” Trey just dives into this quicksand.

“Is Dave your lover? How long have you been together?” Damn, Cory is just as direct. And now he's focused directly on Dave, not maliciously, but expecting answers.

Dave does a quick inhale, and I see him clench and relax his fists, trying to relax. His jaw is set in place. This one's on me.

Keep telling myself honesty is the best policy. Even though I'm not ready to open this box with 'em, here goes....

“Ok, guys, really not ready for this discussion, but I'll tell ya what I know so far.” God, what a nebulous beginning. Need to be more direct.

“I don't know if I'm gay, bi, or what. I've never had feelings for a guy before, but I've developed 'em for Dave since all this started. I never got emotionally involved with a guy when your mom and I were together. Can't say I'm gay, since I haven't really been attracted to any other guys. It's just Dave. It's just...him. I feel things with him that I really don't know how to talk about—it's all new to me. I'm still working through all this.”

“Are we lovers? Dave and I have never had that discussion. But he's a good man, kind and considerate, damn good at his job, too. I have no clue where my feelings are going, but I'm open to the possibility of a relationship with him—and I think he's open to that with me.”

I grab Dave's hand and squeeze. He squeezes back at me and smiles. Cory's sitting showing no emotion, Trey's mouth drops open a little when he sees our hands link.

“And, if you're going to ask who does what to whom, well....that's a discussion that simply isn't going to happen.” And I give a little grin. “I've never asked that about your relationships.”

“Look, I know you guys have been through the wringer in the last month or so—and so have I. Everything in my life is up in the air. Dave is the one stable person in my life, and depending on how I can figure things out, I'd be damn proud—and lucky—if he sticks it out with me. Now, ask away. I know you've got questions.”

An eternity of silence. Can't read either of my boys' faces.

Cory moves, digs his wallet out of his jeans, pulls out a twenty, and hands it to Trey.

“Trey said something was going on with you two. I'm settling up on the bet.” Corey grins. My turn for the open-mouthed look.

“Look, dad, Trey and I talked about this before we left to come up here, after you gave us our gifts. I'll be the first to say I don't understand it all, but we both want you to be happy again. We miss our happy dad and want him back. If Dave can make you happy, we'll be ok with it.” Trey nods in agreement, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Told ya so!” He looks at Cory and laughs.

Do I have the best kids on the planet? Can I love 'em any more?

Dave squeezes my hand—I'd forgotten I was holding it—his eyes almost overflowing with tears. They got to him too. He swallows hard to clear the lump in his throat—the lump that matches mine.

“Anytime you want to talk about this or anything else, you know you can talk to me. Not sure I can give you solid answers, but I'll be as honest with you as I can. And I want you to get to know Dave, too, and treat him like you would me. You'll find him to be as solid a guy as you've ever met.” I stand, Dave stands beside me. “Now, give your old man a hug, then head to bed. You guys have a lot to talk about, and I've got a big day tomorrow.”

The boys jump the coffee table and damn near do full body tackles on me, their hugs are so tight. Maybe best of all, both Cory and Trey reach out, and drag Dave into the hug. The four of us just stand there holding each other quietly for a few minutes. May have cried a little, but I've done enough of that lately, so I'm not admitting to anything.

Angels have gotta be singing watching this!

“Ok, boys, now off to bed. We'll talk later.” And brief hugs again for me and Dave from both of 'em and they're out the door across the hall to their room.

Dave lets out a long deep breath. “Damn, you're good. And your boys are special beyond belief. First bluffing the Assistant Directory, then handling all this.” He just shakes his head and smiles. “Damn.” Didn't really think what a weight this might be on him, but it's off now.

“Long day, buddy...let's hit the sack.”

Dave looks at me. “Want me in there?” He points to the guest room.

“Nope.” And I smile.

We strip down, crawl in bed, snuggle close, and Dave turns out the light. No talking tonight.

Tonight has been a big night—we both know tomorrow is a big day.

And we're both asleep before either one knows it.