At the Right Time - 1. Chapter 1

"Tell me about yourself, Mr. Connor."

I was in a spacious room with glass walls, the Los Angeles skyline could be glimpsed outside. The room itself was barely furnished, a mahogany desk, a white sofa made of leather, and a couple of shelves stuffed with books, empty vases and knick-knacks. Behind the desk, the man interviewing me was seated on this big leather office chair which I had no doubt was comfortable beyond imagination. I was seated in one of the smaller, identical office chairs in front of him, the one that was to his left.

The man looked younger than me by a year or perhaps two, in his mid-thirties most probably. He had on a smart three-piece suit, dark blue almost black, his shirt was cream-colored and the necktie was plain royal blue. To complete the effect of the successful businessman-look, he of course wore rimless glasses which, depending on the way he moved or tilted his head, seemed almost not there. An easy smile was on his lips which turned into a strained one probably due to me not saying anything in a while.

I let out a silent sigh. "I'm a graduate of Business Management with some credits short of an MBA." A lie or more accurately an exaggerated truth. Only attended one semester of the MBA program and passed just short of half the classes I was enrolled in. Despite the air conditioning, I could feel a slight perspiration on my forehead. I wasn't usually passive but I wasn't comfortable lying especially for a job I desperately needed, so I thought it best not to add more.

He leaned against the back of his chair and regarded me, his face expressionless. "I see. Would you be candid enough to tell me why you weren't able to finish your MBA?"

Fuck! "I'm sorry, sir, but the reason is very personal. If it means anything, though, I do plan on finishing my MBA as soon as my resources will allow it." Bullshit! All the money I had, including that in my bank account, would last me about two weeks max. Three if I could get away with sleeping on park benches for some nights.

"I completely understand, your personal life is of course irrelevant in this interview." He cleared his throat to hide his discomfort, I wanted to laugh although I doubted if I could due to the nervousness that gripped my heart. Lowering his gaze from my face to the paper on top of his desk, he was silent for a few seconds as he read. "Mr. Connor, did you by any chance leave out your professional experiences in your resume by mistake?"

Good question. "I'm afraid that's not the case, sir. There are no professional experiences detailed in my resume for the simple reason that there are none worth mentioning." If my stomach wasn't so empty, I probably would have barfed all over the polished desk. Perks of having nothing, I guessed.

Mr. Thomas Sullivan was speechless, he didn't even try to hide his disbelief at all. He recovered quickly enough though. "Would you mind expanding on what you just said? I have a feeling I'm missing something here and I don't want to make any wrong assumptions."

What a swell guy, could this be the break I had been hoping for? "Sir, if I'm not mistaken you're probably thinking about what I have been doing for the past ten years or so." He gave a slight nod and he even added a reassuring smile. "I would like to allay your fears that I didn't, for lack of a better word, 'bum around'. Until a month ago, I had been engaged in a family business. But it's just a small company. That was why I decided to leave it out of my resume altogether." I had been fired by my own father, not that he didn't have any grounds to do so--I hardly did any real work. Being disowned on the same day though, well that meant I wouldn't be getting any professional endorsement.

"I have a feeling I'm still missing something but no matter. I'm afraid, Mr. Connor, that it is my professional responsibility to tell you that you are simply over-qualified for the position. More so after we take into consideration the work you did in your 'small' family business."

What should I do now, beg? "I understand but can I add that the experience I could gain if I were to be employed in your company will be greater, in my opinion, than if I were to accept a job that is more fit to my qualifications from other companies." Hire me, please!

"I see that you have an inflated impression of our company." His smile was playful, a cross between a smile and a laugh. "Before we end this interview, I would like to ask one last question but you can, of course, choose not to answer as it is a personal one, after all. Are you in any way related to Mr. Archibald Connor? The one who owns a 'not so small' company in New York?"

He obviously knew the truth behind that question so I answered with a smile instead and shook his hand. From the floor-length glass window, I could see that the sun had sunk from the horizon but the lamps were lighted all over the streets so it was still light outside. Before I got on the elevator, I let out a long sigh. When the door closed, my reflection showed a tall, broad-shouldered guy with dark brown hair that was all over the place almost as if it hadn't been brushed. My hair had always been unruly regardless if I combed it or not so I usually didn't bother, just a quick run through my fingers and that was it. I brushed my hair specifically for the interview though, a lot of good it did. Smoky, gray-blue eyes, which I inherited from my mother, looked back at me. I had always liked my eyes, but that night, I didn't like what I could read through them.

Finally outside, I sat on the first bench I saw along the street which was just a few feet away from the building I just exited. The night was less warm than usual but I didn't mind. I thought and reflected and analyzed, trying desperately to come up with a plan for my situation. Finding a job would help big time, I thought I had a chance earlier but that all changed after the last question.

I had a choice before, I could have decided to stand on my own two feet and try to make a living by myself. Instead, I depended on the money my parents had and when that had been taken away, I was completely helpless. 36 years old, almost penniless, as good as homeless and 100% jobless. In short, pathetic. What was I supposed to do?

A car parked in front of me and its door opened. Inside, I could glimpse a man beckoning me over. Oh shit, had I been mistaken for a prostitute? In my predicament, I might not be averse to accepting such an offer. Still, my heart was beating fast during the few seconds it took for me to get closer to the car. When I recognized the driver, I almost soiled my pants. "Mr. Sullivan, I was on my way home but wanted to avoid the traffic jam so I decided to sit down and wait it out." Judging by the proximity of the bench from Mr. Sullivan's office building, there might be a chance that I was loitering on private property.

"Mr. Connor, this is a free country; you can sit down wherever you want." Was he blushing? "I saw you all by yourself and thought you might want help or something. Perhaps a ride somewhere?"

Did I really look that desperate? "Thank you, sir, but I think I'll be fine. Have a safe trip and a good night." I was about to close the door but he motioned me to stop.

"Please call me Tommy. The truth is, I actually know you. Or more precisely know of you." With a shy smile, he motioned to the seat beside him.

"Mr. Sulli--Tommy, I'm guessing that for some reason you know my father. How, I couldn't even begin to imagine as he's only popular in New York as far as I could tell." Perhaps in a secret, successful businessmen's society or something? "But if you're being nice to me because of my father, for your sake, don't. Let's just say that he doesn't want anything to do with me." Why would I tell him something that personal?

"I'm sorry to hear that." He straightened his glasses although they didn't really need it. "Truth is, I grew up in New York. And I know of you from high school."

That gave me pause and suddenly I was studying Tommy's face. Behind the glasses, his eyes were sea green. He kept his black hair short and brushed up. His lips were thin and pinkish, they seemed so extremely soft and delicate that I was afraid he'd hurt himself when he started lightly biting his lower lip. A blush appeared on his cheeks and they seemed to darken the more I stared. Altogether, he was a good-looking guy. "Your face does look familiar although I don't seem to remember you exactly. I'm sorry."

"No need to be. I was a freshman when you were a junior. Everybody at school knows you: I doubt if half my class know who I am." All said with a straight face without any bitterness at all. Not that he had anything to be bitter about, he was a director in a big firm while I was the guy who didn't have a place to sleep that night. "Anyway, wouldn't it be more convenient if you come inside the car instead of standing outside? We can catch up over dinner at a restaurant. Or at my place, I'm a decent enough cook."

Dinner sounded like heaven but I lingered for a bit before actually getting in the car. The inside of the car was immaculately neat and clean, like his office. I could smell a faint, citrusy air freshener. "I don't feel like going to a restaurant right now,"--another lie--"but dinner at your place I won't say 'no' to."

We drove in silence which suited me well as I still wasn't sure that I did the right thing coming home with him. It wasn't that I was afraid of him, more like I wasn't sure where this would lead, how it would play out. He knew me, but I knew next to nothing about him. The looks he gave me from time to time were nothing but friendly though. In fact, I was surprised to realize that I didn't mind the occasional looks. They were somehow flattering although he didn't seem to be flirting.

An hour later, we were at his house in a suburb of LA. Nothing was out of place; everything seemed to be where it should be. I figured he wasn't into furniture that much, which was fine as the little there was made the room seem more airy and spacious. The theme of neatness and cleanliness was definitely more amplified in his home.

"Make yourself comfortable, there's beer in the fridge if you want one. You can also make yourself a cocktail in the mini bar over there." He pointed behind me. "I'll just take this bag into my room and then I'll get cracking with dinner."

Instead of getting myself a drink, I took that opportunity to inspect the place. He was obviously a music fan, he had a sizable collection of CDs. Classical music I expected but alternative rock, I couldn't help but smile at that.

Behind me, he said, "Pop whatever you fancy in the player, we could do with some music." Without a word, I did as he said. I was tempted to put on a CD of Rachmaninoff but thought it might be a bit inappropriate as background music so I chose the latest CD of Coldplay instead, but lowered the volume a bit. "Good choice," he said from somewhere.

I went to the place where his voice came from, the kitchen. "Is there anything I can do to help?" He had taken off his coat and vest but I still felt under-dressed with my casual black coat, white shirt and faded black jeans.

"No, it's fine." It was indeed, he was cooking like a pro. Every movement he made seemed purposeful and precise. "You can set up the table though. Plates, utensils and everything else will be in that cabinet beside the refrigerator."

So I went to work, I took my time as I didn't know what else to do. Too soon, I finished setting up. We were going to use china, silver utensils and crystal glasses, it was like being back at home. When I turned around, I caught him watching me.

He smiled apologetically and went back to cooking. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes." I didn't look at my watch but I had a feeling that it was exactly ten minutes later when he began serving us.

The food was delicious, I wanted to devour as much as I could, as fast as I could but my upbringing held me back. Every mouthful seemed to satisfy the meals I had missed since a month ago, I felt like crying but didn't. He was silently observing me: I could feel it. But not once did I look up to meet his gaze. It was rude, I knew, but I felt so vulnerable that I avoided any eye contact lest my emotions betray me.

Finally, the food was gone. "You didn't touch your wine, it isn't what you're used to? I may have something better, if you want."

In barely a whisper, I said, "Sorry, I've been sober for a month and I'd like to keep it that way so I try to avoid alcohol as much as possible." The silence, after a period of time was deafening. I looked up then and his expression was so honest and touching that it took all my self-control to stop myself from crying. "You had no way of knowing: it's no problem at all. I made bad choices in life and I'm trying to make up for them. If you haven't realized by now, I'm not the same guy you think you knew in high school."

"That's not true, that can't possibly be true. You have no idea... You..." He stopped suddenly and looked at me, in my eyes. I could feel that he wanted to tell me something and he did. "When we were in high school... For so long... I had a crush on you!" Regret showed on his face as soon as he blurted that out.

I flinched involuntarily and I knew that he noticed. When did I become that kind of guy? Truth was I was gay but it was too much, too soon. I started to say something but he motioned me to stop with his right hand so I did.

"Look, that came out wrong. I didn't lure you into my home to prey on you although after what I just said, I can't blame you if you think that. If you only knew..." I knew that there was something he wanted to tell me but I wasn't ready and he could sense it. He let out a long sigh. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, I just thought you should know how much I admired you then."

Of course, I looked so pathetic; he was just trying to make me feel good about myself. I felt so embarrassed. "I'm really sorry, I thought you were coming on to me. I'm not usually a jerk. If you're, you know, it's fine. I'm..." Part of me wanted to tell him that I was gay but after what just happened, I decided against it.

"Oh, I'm gay. But what I said was inappropriate especially since it was so long ago. And I swear, I'm not coming on to you. It just felt like you needed a friend. We might not have been during high school but there's no reason we shouldn't be here. After all, we're both far away from our home state."

I breathed easily at that but why was I slightly bothered by his use of the words 'then' and 'so long ago'? It couldn't be that my ego was slighted, could it? Or was it more than that...?

After that, we chatted like old friends. He told me about his life, how he had earned a scholarship in UCLA so he had to leave New York. How he rose through the ranks at the company he was working for by starting doing temp jobs while he was still in university. It was a good life, very inspiring and full of success stories.

When it was my turn, I was really embarrassed. I told him how I wasted my life away and my struggle with addiction. Also, my deal with this semi-decent hotel where I only pay for nights I actually use one of their rooms but they keep my stuff--a suitcase full of clothes--in their storage room in exchange for me working some days for them when they were swamped, it was a sweet deal. At the end of my tale, I realized that I hadn't told anyone that much about myself for a very long time. It surprised me but at the same time I felt like some weight was taken off my shoulder, it was a good feeling. I was enjoying myself so much, I didn't realize it was very late until I saw him yawn. "Oh shoot, I'm so sorry. I should go, you probably have to get up early tomorrow. You're not unemployed like me!"

"Yeah, but Archie, you don't really need to go. I have a spare bedroom." His expression was friendly with just a hint of I-hope-I-don't-come-across-as-hitting-on-you. It was the first time he ever called me by my first name.

I didn't know why I even paused to think about it, I already told him about my situation. Of course I would say 'yes', but what was left of my pride wanted so much to just walk away. He showed me to the spare bedroom, it was bigger than the room I usually rent for the night. That and so much cleaner. I didn't sleep right away, I was listening as he moved around in the other room. Then all was silent.

**********

My phone rang as I roamed the streets of LA late morning the next day. When I checked, it was a number I wasn't familiar with. Hoping it might be a job offer from one of dozens of companies I applied to, I answered, "Hello? This is Archie Sullivan speaking."

"Good morning, Mr. Sullivan," a familiar voice said. Uh-oh. I didn't know what to say and the longer I waited, the more it seemed awkward until I just gave up with saying anything at all. On the other line, Tommy cleared his throat. "Erm, listen, Archie, I don't know how else to tell you this so I'll get straight to the point. I don't think it would be best if we work together. What I'm trying to say is, you didn't get the job, sorry."

Somehow, I already knew but part of me still hoped and I couldn't help but feel a little devastated. I was willing myself to say something but Tommy beat me to it.

"Anyway, we have a vacancy from another service of the company and I happen to be friends with the director of that service. I told him about you. Just a warning, I might have told him we were friends in high school, sorry about that, and built you up a bit. Long story short, he was impressed and wants to talk to you about a possible job. What do you say?"

I was stunned, could this really be happening? "Oh Tommy, you shouldn't have. Oh wow. I mean, thank you. Thank you very much. You have no idea what this means to me." He literally just saved my life. "About earlier, I'm sorry I left without saying 'goodbye'. It was stupid and I have no excuse at all. After you've been so kind to me and now this. Gosh, Tommy, I really don't know what to say. I owe you big time."

"No, you don't owe me anything at all. Trust me, you don't." He abruptly stopped as if weighing down what to say. "I understand about earlier. After what I revealed last night... And hey, I might have been overly optimistic; you still need to come here and talk to my friend. It isn't a done deal and all. But my friend is really eager to meet you, that's all I will say."

"Thank you, Tommy. No matter what happens, you have my gratitude. I don't deserve a friend like you." It was true too.

"Good thing we're not really friends." I wasn't sure whether he was just teasing. Nor was I sure how I would feel if he weren't. "Oh and good luck, Archie." Then he hung up before I could say anything.

After a quick shower from one of the few empty rooms in the semi-decent hotel I frequent, I put on my best clothes which was to say one or two steps less casual than those I wore yesterday. Then I was on my way for the second time in two days to Tommy's firm. Not that he owned it but I would always think of it that way. Tommy's company, Tommy's office, Tommy's building. During the interview, my thoughts wandered as to what kind of relationship Tommy really had with the guy I was talking to. Tommy and him, together? I sat straighter when I felt a little prick of jealousy.

At the end of the interview, I was offered a job. Well, not really. I would be under probation for three months at which time I was entitled to only 45% of my pay rate. It wasn't much but it was enough for my needs. Mr. Richards, my boss, didn't come out and say it but I knew that the only reason I got the job was because of Tommy.

Mr. Richards was a good boss, he didn't tire of my questions about my job. As far as I could tell, Tommy and he were just friends, but I always felt a small pinch in my heart whenever I saw them together. As for Tommy, he always had a smile for me whenever we passed each other. We would chat sometimes, mostly about work. For some reason, my heartbeat would quicken whenever I saw him, even from afar.

I worked hard even though I wasn't used to hard work. I would come in early and work late. Sometimes I would come in during weekends too. The feeling of accomplishing something through my own efforts was so new to me but, at the same time, it made me feel good about myself. Two months into my probationary period, Mr. Richards called me into his office and just like that, he offered me a full-time job with full benefits.

At around 8 pm that night, I called Tommy's cell. "Tommy! It's me, Archie. I have good news and I bet you can't guess what it is."

"Hey, Archie. I was hoping you'd call. So a little birdie told me that you passed your probation a month early. Congrats!" Even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was all smiles.

He knew, of course he did. "Thanks! You don't know how good I feel right now. Listen, are you free tonight? Care to join me for dinner? My treat!" My heart was beating fast against my chest. It felt like I was asking him out on a date although this was just my way of thanking him for everything he'd done for me.

"Sure, tell me where you want to meet and I'll be there."

We were face to face, our plates empty. The food was delicious. He was finishing his wine while I sipped my juice. The most we'd done during dinner was exchange pleasantries, otherwise we were quiet. I felt nervous whereas he seemed aloof.

"I would like to thank you again, Tommy. We both know I wouldn't have gotten this job without you." This really felt like a date, an awkward one at that. And it wasn't going very well either.
"I told you before it's nothing. Plus, you did all the hard work, Greg told me all about the extra hours you spent at the office."

Greg? They were on a first name basis? After that, the conversation just dwindled out. It wasn't a date, it was a disaster.

He drove me to my apartment. When he turned off the engine, we just sat there in silence. Part of me wanted to kiss him but the confused part was asking why. After two months, I still wasn't sure how I felt about Tommy. I was attracted to him, yes, but whatever feelings I had were jumbled together with my debt of gratitude to him. They seemed connected somehow, so much that I wasn't sure whether I really liked him or I just wanted to repay my debt. Still unsure, I leaned to kiss him.

He leaned away and I was both relieved and disappointed. "Don't do this, Archie. You do know I can see the confusion in your eyes. True, I had a crush on you and I thought it had gone away. But after seeing you almost every day for two months, the feelings all came back, perhaps stronger than before. You have no idea how much I want to kiss you, to be with you. But not like this, not when you're unsure." The pain, his pain, I could hear in his voice.

I didn't know what to say so I just got out of his car. After that night, I distanced myself from him. Whenever he passed by, I would busy myself with something just so I could avoid talking to him. One time I did this, I thought he was already gone so I looked around and I saw him standing just a few paces behind me. He stayed for just a few seconds but the look he gave me almost broke my heart. It made me want to reach out and embrace him and never let go. I knew I was causing him pain but his words that night kept haunting me. Still unsure what to do, I did the only thing I could, devoted myself more to work, my new addiction.

After almost a year, I got a call from the very person I didn't expect any contact from. "Dad? Why are you calling me? And how did you get my number?"

"That's not important right now. Junior, I want to talk to you in person. Come to New York. Please." I knew that he only added the last word as an afterthought.

"Why the heck would I do that? I'm busy, I have a life now. Sorry but I can't just pack up and leave. I'm not rich like you, if I don't work I don't eat." A lie, of course. I had been working so much extra hours that I had earned a lot of vacation credits. Just the other day, I received an official letter from Human Resources recommending that I go on vacation, failing to do so would forfeit all credits I had earned that year.

"Archie, I know you're hurt and you don't want anything to do with me, but please come even for just the weekend. I would have flown to where you are but I'm in a hospital right now. There's something I want to tell you."

What he didn't say scared me. Why was he in hospital? "Which hospital?"

**********

My father was sleeping; he looked thinner than when I last saw him. He had so much apparatus attached to him that I couldn't help but think of my mother ten years ago when she had been fighting cancer. As the memories flooded in, I realized that she died in this very hospital.

"Junior." His voice was as I remembered it though, forceful and commanding. The voice which helped him win contracts, settle disputes and made his employees follow him blindly.

I wanted so much to hug him but this was the person who disowned me after all, the one who took away everything from me.

"How I missed those eyes. Same as your mother's. You know when your mother passed away, I didn't know what to do."

"Nor did I, you bastard. What did you think triggered the addiction? Partying and alcohol comforted me while you hid behind your work. Why did you think I avoided going to work? It was because I couldn't accept the fact that you chose your business over me."

He was gently shaking his head. "I know I was wrong and I realized it too late. By the time I did, you were too deep in your addiction. I couldn't forgive myself knowing that I allowed you to do that to yourself, I let it happen and I did nothing."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept silent.

"Whatever my faults, I'm glad that in the end, I did the right thing. I mean, look at you, you're a changed man. You look happy and fulfilled."

I wanted to scream and trash the room. "What do you mean you did the right thing? You disowned me, you let me go hungry and left me penniless. If it weren't for this guy I knew in high school, I would have ended up in a halfway house. So don't get all high and mighty on me. Get off your high horse, you bigot!"

My father was shedding silent tears. "Calm down, Archie. Being a parent means making hard choices and I made mine when I turned you away that night. It almost killed me. And don't call me a bigot, I'm still your father."
My frustration was making my body shake uncontrollably. "Turn me away? You disowned me because you found out I'm gay."

"Oh God, Archie, no. I don't mind that you're gay. Of course you were hungover that day, I should have waited. But that had been the very excuse I told myself before, that I'd talk to you once you're sober. You were always drunk though, so I always postponed. You really thought I disowned you because you were gay? I thought without the money, you'd be forced to sober up. Oh, Archie, my son, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I knew I hurt you but I didn't know you had that hanging over you. Please forgive me."

I didn't completely believe him but what he said had a ring of truth in it. I did sober up, didn't I? I managed to stand on my own without my father's help. "So what do you want from me? Want me to work in your company now that you know I have changed?"

"No, of course not. I mean if you want to, of course you can work for the company but it's completely up to you. The company would be fine with or without you. Or me for that matter. My intentions are completely selfish, I wanted to see you and maybe ask for your forgiveness. Your friend has kept me updated of your achievements and I wanted to see for myself the man that you have become."

"Which friend?" And he told me all about Tommy, how it might have been almost a year ago when he got a call from a Mr. Thomas Sullivan from LA. He was shocked at first at being almost told off by a complete stranger about how to raise his son. But after some shouting and explanations, they were able to sort things out.

"I told him all about how I turned you away, he didn't exactly agree with my method but in the end he understood why I had to do it. On my part, I was suspicious of him. Why was he so concerned about you? That was when he told me about how you helped him back in high school. He was being bullied and somehow you managed to turn his bullies away. You told him that he should not be afraid to fight back if he wanted the bullying to stop. That he should believe in himself. And he did and the bullying stopped. So when he saw you after all these years needing help, he felt it was his turn to return the favor."

I was in shock, I did remember helping a young boy back in high school but I had no idea it was him. Also, I didn't really pay too much attention to it, I wouldn't even had remembered it if it weren't mentioned to me. Why didn't he just tell me?

I stayed in New York for two weeks, my father's bypass operation went well. When I left him, he was already able to get up and walk by himself. I hadn't completely forgiven him yet but I knew that in time I would.

It was nighttime when I arrived in LA. I grabbed a taxi and gave Tommy's address. He must have heard the roar of the car because he was waiting at his door when I got out.

"So you're back. I thought you would be staying in New York for good." Even though the length of his lawn separated us, I could still see the bags in his eyes.

"My life is here, my work is here. Dad's doing well and he urged me to come back. Not that I needed any urging, I couldn't wait to come back. You know my father, right? You've been in contact with him for almost a year."

Only a slight change in his expression betrayed his surprise. He probably didn't think my father would mention him at all. "What I'd like to know is why didn't you tell me about what happened in high school."

He was watching my every move. "I did try to tell you but it came out all wrong. When we had dinner here, I wanted to tell you but I blurted out the wrong thing. I tried to tell you even after that blunder but I felt that you didn't want to hear what I had to say so I kept my mouth shut. After that, the timing always seemed off."

"I wish you had told me..."

"Why? Would it change anything if I did? You're so hung up with gratitude you think you owe me, but to me, it was I who owed you something. I wouldn't have everything I have today if it weren't for you. You gave me courage when I needed it most. I was just paying you back, Archie."

Finally, I lessened the distance separating us. "Do you know why it took me this long to come back? Dad needed me, yes, but I was also figuring things out. One thing I realized was how much I missed you. Even though I avoided you for nine months, I could still catch a glimpse of you from afar and that was enough. These two weeks was like torture without you. And this time I'm sure that I really like you, Tommy. No, that's lame. What I mean is that I might be falling in love with you, if I'm not already."

With that, there was nothing more to say, nothing more to do. So we kissed.