Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Autumn - 4. Meeting Across the River
Saturday, 31 August 2013
“Nephew? You can’t be our Tommy John’s nephew, I don’t know you… you’re not our grandson.” Mrs. Kennedy looked confused as she spoke. She would look at CJ’s face, then at her husband’s, anguish etched on her own. Her voice was loud and full of angst; CJ tried to reassure the old lady with a little smile.
“Excuse me,” interrupted Caleb when the woman raised her voice. “You’ll need to continue this conversation elsewhere, please. We have patients sleeping, and I don’t want them being disturbed. Feel free to use the waiting room again, buddy.” The nurse looked at all four people while he spoke; giving CJ a small conspiratorial wink.
“Fine! Come along, young man, I intend to get to the bottom of this. Let’s go in there, Pat, you come also, Father. Don’t know what the fuss is all about, I remember visiting injured officers when I was part of the police force. Darn nurses would wake them up all the time to poke and probe.”
CJ looked at the nurse and shrugged his shoulders. He was willing to follow the priest and the older couple and speak with them if it would ensure his uncles wouldn’t be disturbed. As soon as the visitors had turned their backs, CJ saw Caleb reach for the phone. Walking away he heard the nurse speak in a quiet voice but was unable to understand what he said.
Francis Xavier Kennedy was in pretty good shape for someone almost seventy years old. CJ would eventually learn he was a retired City of Boston Police Sergeant, and he ran his family with a firm hand, just as he had done with his men in the Police Department. He also found out that when his son divorced and announced he was gay, Frank Kennedy disowned him. He told Tom he abhorred the idea one of his own was a homosexual; he was unable to comprehend what would cause a man to do such things, he said. How could a man demean himself so much, to willingly play the role of a woman, for another male?
Following the confrontation between father and son, Frank barred the rest of the family from having any contact with the young cop.
“See here, I don’t know what game you’re playing but you’re not related to our son!”
“You’re correct, Mr. Kennedy. Even though I may not be related to Uncle Tommy by blood, I still consider him my uncle, sir. And I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual. He honored me by asking me to serve as best man at his wedding earlier this month.”
“WEDDING? What wedding? We know nothing about our son getting married!” Mrs. Kennedy startled everyone with her sudden outburst. The shrill sounds coming from her were those of a woman not entirely in control of herself.
“Uncle Tom was married on the seventeenth of this month, Mrs. Kennedy. He and Uncle John Paul did it in a joint ceremony with my parents. It was a small event, where I stood with all four men.” CJ was aware of the lack of a relationship between Tom Kennedy and his parents; their not knowing about the wedding did not come as a surprise.
“Four men? That is not a wedding, it’s a travesty. The church will not condone two men marrying. Marriage is a holy sacrament, what these men have participated in is but an abomination in the eyes of our Lord Jesus Christ.” The pompous tone of the priest’s preachy comment, and the bigoted words he uttered, grated on CJ. “Do you live with those two men you referred to as your parents?”
Knowing he was in a hospital, with sick people all around, CJ tried to keep his volume down. The fury in him, however, was apparent in the tone of his voice. “Excuse me, father, an abomination? Is that what you just called the most important people in my life? I’ve tried to be polite to all of you, and you go insult my dads and my uncles? Maybe your so-called church can’t accept the realities of life, but to those of us who aren't part of it, your ignorant comments on same-sex marriage are simply hateful. Oh, and not that it’s any of your business, but I do live with my two dads.”
By this time, Caleb and Dallas, the security guard, were standing at the entrance of the room. CJ noticed them paying attention to what was going on. Neither one made a move to interfere. A smile appeared on both their faces during the teen’s impassioned comments.
“My son, your voice has anger in it. I’m certain being in such close contact with sodomites has confused you. Have your so-called fathers, and the other men around you, bewildered your thoughts with their lies and blasphemies? Have you been sexually molested? The church and I can help you.” The priest placed his hand on CJ’s shoulder while speaking to him; the boy cringed at the touch.
“Please remove your hand from my shoulder, do… not… touch… me. I’m not one of your altar boys. And I am not your son, so stop calling me that, my name’s CJ.” The now pissed-off teen turned his head slightly, to include the Kennedys in his remarks. “None of your son’s friends, my two fathers included, have ever shown me anything but unconditional love, without judgment, unlike what you’ve obviously given my uncle.”
The boy turned his head once again and spoke to the priest: “To answer your questions: I don’t need any help. None of those wonderful, honorable men, have ever laid a finger on me in a sexual manner. None of them are Catholic priests.” The boiling anger in CJ made him lash out at the man wearing the clerical collar. He was trying hard not to use foul language, but his comment was an insult the priest couldn’t ignore.
“Why, you impertinent child. You need to be taught how to respect others. A firm hand to your bottom would be the right way to start.”
Keeping his voice just above a whisper, but with fire in his eyes, the tall teenager glared down at the shorter priest.
“Just try it, asswipe. Just try it. I'm tired of your holier-than-thou attitude. Who do you think you are, to go around judging others? How dare you imply the love my dads or my uncles have for each other is wrong in any way. I’m so pissed off right now, I’d love to mop the floor with your shitty face. And trust me, I’ve taken on, and beaten, bigger and stronger men than you. Uncle Tommy needs nothing from you. He’s going to be just fine. His husband is in there with him, and I’m out here in case I’m needed. You, and these two poor excuses for parents, didn’t come here out of concern for his injuries, or to show him love. You’re here to keep on condemning him, but I won’t let any of you hurt him anymore. Please turn around, and get the hell out of this hospital, or I’ll ask security to throw you out.”
“We won’t leave while my son is in peril of going to hell for his sins.” Frank Kennedy’s face was flushed and angry, his comments were clipped. His wife cried, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief pulled from her purse. “Come with us, Father Enger. We’re going to Thomas’ room.”
“I don’t think so.” Dallas’ voice startled the priest and the couple, with their backs to the entrance, they’d not seen him and Caleb approach. “The three of you will listen to the request CJ made. Quietly leave this floor and the hospital. I’ll escort you to the lobby, I’ll make the police officers there aware you’re considered trespassers, and that I believe you are a threat to their fellow cop. Let’s get a move on folks.”
Caleb was impressed with the way CJ had handled himself. He’d been earnest in his defense of Officer Kennedy, forceful with his comments, yet had remained respectful. It was only at the end of the conversation he had been provoked into verbally striking back. The nurse decided he never wanted to be pitted against the boy and hoped his own kid would grow up to be as eloquent, with such strong convictions and loyalty to his family.
“CJ, get your stuff and meet me at the desk.” To hell with hospital regulations, thought the nurse, he wasn’t going to leave the kid in the brightly lit waiting room all night. He stopped in one of the empty rooms, grabbed the recliner in it, pushed it outside into the corridor, and then into the detective’s room, placing it on the side of the bed opposite the one JP was on.
“Here you go, bud. After such a great performance, I think your uncle would want you as close to him as possible.”
“Thanks, Caleb. You sure this is ok?”
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo, it’ll be just fine.”
The teen quietly walked into the room, kissed the injured man on his forehead, sat in the chair, and grabbed hold of the cop’s hand. JP had somehow managed to twist himself, so his head rested on the same pillow as the patient’s. Smiling at the sight, CJ was asleep within minutes, still holding his uncle’s hand.
Angelo Tomassi was stunned when he and his wife received the news: their daughter-in-law and their unborn grandchild were gone. Their son and their two grandchildren had thankfully been spared. The heartbreak he felt was intensified by the sound of his wife’s desolate sobs. He had never seen her in such anguish before. Adriano, Emmanuel, and Gabriella would need their help in coping with the loss. Mr. Tomassi expected he and Antonia would draw strength from each other, and set to doing what was needed.
Angelo dialed his oldest son, who answered immediately, anxious to get news of his brother. Mr. Tomassi updated him, and asked him to relay the information to the youngest sibling. He asked that they remain in New Jersey. They were in charge of the business, and their presence in Washington wouldn’t accomplish much. Nana and he would stay, until Adriano and the children were able to travel. Then they would return home and arrange for the funeral services.
“Still around, Doctor Calhoun?” The Tomassi’s had followed Doc to the Intensive Care Unit to see their son. He had stopped at the nurse’s station and reached for a folder on the rack atop the counter.
“Hey, Caleb. Yep, still around. It’s been a busy day.” The doctor opened the file in his hands while speaking to the young man dressed in gray hospital scrubs.” Caleb, these are Adriano’s parents. I’m gonna let Mr. and Mrs. Tomassi spend a few minutes with their son, okay?”
“Sure thing, Doc. Just so you know, I let CJ crash in Detective Kennedy’s room. He and the detective’s husband were both asleep when I last checked on our patient.”
“Good. I’m gonna break rules again and let Mr. Tomassi spend the night with his son. Anyone gives you any lip about both my patients having overnight visitors, you tell them to call me.”
Once the older couple was reassured their son was okay, they agreed to split up. Antonia would head upstairs to be with the twins. They would likely be scared when they woke up, but seeing their Nana should help calm them. Mr. Tomassi remained with Adriano.
“If y’all will excuse me, I’m headed home. I’m exhausted, I need some rest if I’m to function properly tomorrow. Morning will come soon enough. I’ll be back here then.”
“Uncle Tommy?”
Sunlight crept into the darkened room, around the edges of the window’s curtains. The brightness of fluorescent light fixtures stole in, through the sliver of space between the wall and the door. CJ, still holding Detective Kennedy’s hand, awakened when he felt his fingers softly enfolded. In response to the question, the cop squeezed CJ’s hand again. He wasn’t moving otherwise. His eyes were closed, but his lips twitched a tick and formed a small smile.
“Fucking A! I’m so happy right now I could just shit! Damn, sorry for the language. It’s CJ, Uncle JP is also here. Let me wake him up and then I’ll get the nurse.” During the night, JP had moved away from the pillow he’d been sharing with his husband as he fell asleep; he was still next to the bed, in the recliner provided by the hospital. The sound of CJ’s voice woke him up, he was immediately alert. The Aussie shot up from his seat, leaned over his injured husband, and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.
“G’day, mate. Damn it’s good to have you back awake.”
“Thirsty…” The word uttered was barely audible, his voice's deeper than normal timbre sounded as if his throat was full of gravel.
“I’ll get you some water, and I’ll tell the nurse you’re awake.” CJ was out of his chair before either man could say a word. He heard JP start talking as he reached the room’s door.
“Welcome back, Tommy. Bugger me! I was so scared I would lose you! Don’t you bloody dare get shot again, you hear me?” JP was looking at his man’s blue eyes as he spoke, running his fingers through the sparse hair on his lover's head. The cop’s eyes opened a bit wider, the skin around them crinkling, as the smile grew.
Outside, Caleb was at his desk talking to someone dressed in scrubs.
“Hey Caleb, Uncle Tommy’s awake. He’s thirsty, where can I get him some cold water?”
“Great news! Gordon, why don’t you go in and check the detective out, while I call the doctors. CJ, get back here, and fill one of those plastic cups with chipped ice from the dispenser.” Caleb jerked his head towards a small ice machine while reaching for the phone. “Tell your uncle to just let the ice melt in his mouth. The dry, scratchy throat is a result of the breathing tube used in conjunction with the anesthesia.”
“Wassup, CJ? I’m Gordon. I’ll be taking over as head nurse in ICU this morning. Heard some great things about you, guy. And on top of all that good stuff, you’re a hell of a good-looking kid. Stay the hell away from my girlfriend, you hear me?”
The nurse smiled while CJ blushed. “Nice ta meetcha, sir.”
“Okay, guys, I’m going to need you both to step outside, while I look my patient over.” CJ and the nurse had walked into the room together, Gordon took the cup with the ice from the boy, and placed it on the table next to the patient’s bed. “I’ll take care of the ice, buddy. Sir,” he said addressing JP, “you can clean up in the staff restroom if you wish. There’s fresh coffee out there too. Go stretch your legs. Your man here’s in good hands.”
“Nice t-shirt, CJ.” Tom was more awake now, his voice was not entirely back though, and his compliment sounded like a croak. He’d given the shirt to the boy, as a present, a few weeks before.
“Thanks, Uncle Tommy. I’ll be back whenever they let me.” Grabbing his backpack, the teen walked outside in search of a pisser and coffee, closely following JP.
“Uncle JP, I wanna call the rents, and let them know what’s going on. Can I do that first? Then we can take Gordon up on his offer and go clean up and get some coffee.”
“Sounds, good. Wish I could brush my teeth. Wonder If I could get a toothbrush from―”
“Got you covered. Brought an extra, brand new one, just for you. I also have two extra t-shirts, in case you wanna change. I’m gonna put a clean one on myself.”
“Crickey, mate, are you a boy scout?”
“Fuck no! I won’t have anything to do with those homophobic assholes. They kept trying to have me join back in school. I'd piss them off by calling them hate-mongers. And speaking of hate-mongers, have I got a story to tell you.”
The Aussie shook his head in disbelief, probably wondering what his nephew had to tell him. CJ called his dads, brought them up to speed with what was going on, and asked them to stop somewhere and bring a bunch of breakfast sandwiches to the hospital. He and JP then went into the staff room to wash up, while CJ recounted the confrontation with Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy the previous evening.
“Mate, wait ‘til Tommy hears about his parents. He’s gonna flip out. Fuckers write him off and then come calling when they think he’s dying. Good for you, CJ. I’m real proud of you.”
“I was trying to be nice, Uncle JP, I swear. But when the priest started calling you guys and my dads names, I lost it. Couldn’t believe it when he said I needed a spanking. I wanted him to try it, so I could beat the crap out of him, and say it was in self-defense.”
“Nah, no need for that, mate. You handled it just right. We all know you can defend yourself. Save the fighting for when it’s really needed. Listen, Tommy’s going for an MRI first thing this morning. Let’s wait to tell him about last night’s visit. No need to get him riled up before they stick him in the tube.”
“Good morning, you must be John Paul, and you have to be CJ. Don’t look at me like that, I swear I’m not a mind reader.” The older man, with a mop of white hair on his head, smiled as he extended his hand in greeting. “Dr. Calhoun pointed you out last evening, while you both slept. I am Angelo Tomassi. I was happy to hear the detective will be fine, as soon as he recovers from his wounds.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” CJ returned the kind-looking man’s smile as they shook hands. “Are you related to Adriano Tomassi?”
“Yes I am, young man, I’m his father. Adriano and his family were involved in a car accident yesterday. My wife and I drove down from New Jersey to be with him. He’s in the room I walked out from, recovering from surgery to one of his legs.”
“They were in an accident? Yesterday? Why didn’t Uncle Matt tell us? How’s Adriano doing? Is his wife okay? And the kids?”
“The doctor told me he didn’t say anything to you on purpose. You had enough worries, with the detective being shot. Adriano’s banged up, but he’ll be fine. He broke a leg, the reason for the operation, which now has a cast on it. Antonia, my wife, is upstairs with the twins who are okay.”
“Sorry we meet under these circumstances, sir.” JP was finally able to properly greet Adriano’s dad. “Real glad to hear my husband, and Adriano, will both be recovering. You didn’t mention your daughter-in-law. Is she alright?”
The man’s face lost its smile. “I’m afraid not. My daughter-in-law passed away and the baby didn’t survive either.” He lowered his head, and tears escaped his eyes.
“Here, sir, please have a seat. Could I get you some coffee or something else to drink?”
“Thank you, son. Coffee would be much appreciated.”
Doc, César, and Brett arrived at the hospital within minutes of each other. CJ introduced Angelo to his dads, giving them the news about Adriano and his family while digging through the Mickey D’s bags his fathers had carried in with them. He grabbed one of the sandwiches, passed the paper sack to JP, and promptly inhaled the just unwrapped Egg McMuffin, washing it down with half a cup of orange juice.
“Damn I’m hungry! Pass the bag back to me, Uncle JP? Dads, Uncle Tommy was taken for an MRI, we’re waiting for him to return.”
“Anything you need while you’re in town, Mr. Tomassi, you let us know. Adriano’s very dear to us, Brett and I will do whatever we can to make all your lives a bit easier. It’s gonna be tough on the kids, losing their mother at such a young age.” César spoke to the older man while his son devoured a second breakfast sandwich. JP was still working on his first one.
“Thank you, César, I appreciate your offer. I think we’re okay right now. You know, I’m somewhat familiar with all of you, Adriano spoke of your wedding earlier this month. He told me how much he was enjoying working with your son on the arrangements. I heard it turned out very nicely.”
“He did a very good job on it. And our―CJ! Is that your third sandwich? Oinker!”
“What? I’m still growing. I’ll go to the gym sometime today, plus I run my ass off on a regular basis. Although I couldn’t finish my five miles yesterday, thanks to those two jerks that arrested me!”
“What? You were arrested yesterday?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Tomassi, it was nothing. A bone-headed move by two idiotic cops. My dads sprung me real quick.”
“Mate, you’ve had a busy twenty-four hours, haven’t you? Are ya gonna tell your dads about last night?” JP’s mischievous grin seemed to promise an interesting tale.
“Dude, what the hell did you do last night?” Brett was shaking his head, with a look of resignation on his face. “And isn’t that shirt you’re wearing one of ours? That’s not the one you had on when we left here yesterday.”
“Nothing, Papa, I swear.” CJ smiled. He was kinda proud of what he’d done the previous night, and these were his dads, he had no trouble talking about it with them. It wouldn’t be like he was bragging or anything. “Yeah, it’s one I kinda borrowed before we came back to the hospital. I’m a little behind in my laundry.”
“A little behind? You have enough shirts to outfit half the city!” CJ was wearing an unbuttoned, short-sleeved, plaid, summer shirt, over a dark green t-shirt, with a stripe on the left side reading Harley-Davidson.
“All the good ones are dirty! Anyway, about last night…”
When Tom returned from his scan, he was awake, much more alert, and smiling. JP was immediately at his side, holding his hand, while his friends surrounded the gurney before the orderly could get the patient to his room.
“Okay, you all.” Gordon came towards them, clapping his hands to get their attention. “Step away from my patient and let us get him inside the room.” JP wouldn’t let go of Tommy's hand. He followed the orderly inside, unwilling to be separated from his husband. “Once we get him settled in you can visit for a bit, while he eats his breakfast.”
The men jumped between the rooms with Tommy and Adriano in them, now that both were awake. Adriano was still somewhat groggy, after giving him a quick hello, they left Angelo to be alone with him. They talked about it not seeming appropriate, for their friend to be surrounded by people when he learned about his wife’s death.
“Okay, men,” said Doc when he gathered the group by the nurses’ station. “I want all of you to go home. That includes you also, JP, at least for a couple of hours. Chill for a bit, and then if you want, come back in the late afternoon. Unless the MRI reveals something wrong, I’ll have our friend in a regular room sometime tomorrow. I want him to spend one more night in ICU, better monitoring here.”
“Let’s go home, Jarhead. CJ, you wanna hit the gym once we’re back in Georgetown?”
“Great idea, Dad. Are the two of you―” His train of thought was interrupted by his phone’s e-mail and text alerts going off one after the other.
“What’s up, dude?” Brett placed his hands on the teen’s shoulders, peeking at the phone as they walked towards the elevator.
“Hmmm, text from Trip asking me to call him. And an e-mail from Chief Jacobs, in Arlington.”
“I think we can guess what Trip wants to talk about. Wouldn’t you think so, Brett? Danno probably told him about your arrest. The damn Texan isn’t going to be happy until you agree to give him some sort of exclusive interview. What does Jacobs want?”
“Hmmm… he wants a meeting across the river.”
As usual, I owe an immense debt to Mann, Kitt, and Buckett1.
Autumn is a much better story because of their assistance.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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