Autumn - 15. Lost in the Flood

Orlando arrived within thirty minutes of Ty’s message inviting him to hang out. The two of them, CJ, and the brothers sprawled themselves out on the couch and armchairs, smoked a little pot, and watched a movie on TV. As everyone got ready to call it a night, Rod and Randy promised not to barge into the living area where the sleeper sofa was but suggested their cousin smile for the hidden cameras. CJ threw one of the cushions at them. Randy returned a few minutes later carrying condoms and lube.

Early the following morning, Tyler walked in to start a pot of coffee. Orlando and CJ were still asleep, their bodies entwined, smiles on their faces. The twins had a fancy brewing machine in the basement; they wouldn’t venture upstairs until at least one cup had been drunk. It was still dark outside, but Tyler and Orlando had to be at work early. Gently shaking his employee’s shoulder, trying not to wake CJ, Ty suggested Orlando jump in the shower first. He enjoyed watching the man’s rock-solid butt walk away from him in the direction of the bathroom.

They were both long gone when Rod awakened his cousin.

 

“Come on, mate. It’s not the end of the world. Sure, they’re going back but you already know we’ll be seeing them again in a month.” JP stood in front of Tom, running his hand through his husband’s hair, as the cop sat on the side of their bed looking forlorn.

“I know. I just wish we could spend more than a few days together at a time.” Tom looked up at the Aussie, blue eyes slightly moist from unshed tears, and tried to smile.

“We will. But one step at a time. Three meet-ups in three months are more than you’ve had in over a decade. Give it a few months.” JP sat next to the big cop and placed an arm around his shoulders. “Remember how much César looked forward to CJ’s visits before the kid moved here? Do the same. We’ll all have a blast in New York.”

“You’re right. I’m being a greedy bitch, ain’t I?”

“Your words, not mine,” teased JP with a smirk on his face. “Get dressed, we promised the boys a quick tour of the monuments before we take them to the airport.”

 

“Am I walking funny?” Doc was stepping out of the shop, holding a bag with two dozen bagels, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

“Shut up already. I took it easy on you yesterday.” Sean carried his backpack as he stepped into the street to hail a cab. “You’re about to become a father, couldn’t risk injuring you.”

“Don’t be a dick, Bubba! And it ain’t a done deal. I think I’ll head to Brett and César’s place once I get to Washington. I need their advice.”

“Bullshit. You already know what’s gonna happen. You’re too much of a nice guy.”

“Yeah well, this is beyond being a nice guy. I honestly haven’t decided yet.”

“So you're not coming up with the rest of the guys next month? I’m kinda looking forward to seeing them, especially CJ. That kid’s something else. Had it not been for him, I would have walked away at Pride and missed out on making some good friends.”

“Yeah, he’s something alright. You’ll get to meet Tom’s kids before I do. They’re coming down from Boston for the weekend.”

“It’ll be nice to hang with all of them. And I hope you and I get together again soon. I enjoy myself whenever we get together, in or out of bed.”

 

Upon his return from Montreal Sunday afternoon, Rashid called the Harding & Calhoun Medical Office. With it being closed, he asked the answering service to have Dr. Harding get in touch with him. Rash knew Doc was in New York and Prescott would be covering his friend’s patients. While he waited for the physician to contact him, he dumped out the contents of the bag he’d taken on the trip, transferred his toiletries to a smaller one, and added a few other items to it. He also placed three suits, with shirts and ties, into a garment bag. He wasn’t expected back at work until Wednesday. What he packed would be enough for the next few days.

“Good morning, Helen.” Rashid greeted the doctors’ nurse as he walked into their office early on Monday. “Dr. Harding agreed to see me first thing this morning?”

“Morning. Please come on inside, Mr. Kahn. The doctor is waiting for you.”

Once in the doctor’s private office, Rashid explained at least one man he did not know had ejaculated inside him on Saturday. He wanted to be tested for any possible infection.

“Rash, I signed on to our system last night after we spoke. You and Devon have been vaccinated against Hepatitis A and B, we don’t need to be overly concerned with those viruses. PReP should protect you from HIV infection.” Dr. Prescott Harding sat on the edge of his desk, his white coat unbuttoned, his tie already loosened. The night before he’d suggested King come in first thing in the morning, he would delay making rounds at the hospital until after his special patient left. “The biggest problem I see is the possibility of a garden variety STD. Or Hepatitis C―although there’s a cure for it and better treatments will soon be approved. We’ll test for everything anyway. We’ll have the result of the rapid HIV test within the hour, and we’ll request the other tests be expedited.”

“Thanks, Pres. Sorry to have bothered you, but with Doc being away…”

 

CJ’s return flight to Washington was scheduled to depart O’Hare in the early afternoon. Coffee cup in hand, he packed his carry-on suitcase while talking to his cousins about plans for the family gathering in Miami over Thanksgiving. He showered, dressed in jeans, a sky blue t-shirt with the outline of a North Halstead Street Rainbow Pylons on it―he had bought it Saturday while exploring Boystown with Randy―and his new quilted vest. Lynn and Rico delayed going to work for an hour, so they could have a farewell breakfast with their nephew and the twins. His uncle made a comment about seeing a car he thought he recognized parked out front the previous night, but there was no indication they knew Orlando had spent the night.

“I’m glad Tyler’s coming down to Miami for Thanksgiving. I really liked him!” CJ walked between his cousins towards the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio. “Are we all staying at the same hotel?”`

“I think so,” replied Rod. “Wait, that’s right. You’ll be at the hotel this year. Maybe I can bunk in with you, so Randy and Ty can have a room to themselves.”

“And what makes you believe I want you in there? Maybe I’ll get lucky and need the room to myself.”

“Dream on, boy. You know Abuelo and Abuela will want you with them all the time. They probably miss having you in Miami.”

“Well, Wednesday night I’m sleeping at my other grandparents’ house―Mom’s parents. Ritchie and I are both staying over.”

“I keep forgetting your other set of grands.” Rod was handing out tickets he had purchased in the gift shop to his brother and his cousin.

The house, located in the Village of Oak Park, was owned by the Frank Lloyd Wright Trust. The guided tour would last ninety minutes, Rod had paid the additional required fee so his cousin could take pictures inside the home. They planned on having lunch after their visit, before heading to the airport.

“Do you guys have any plans other than stuffing yourselves full of food while we’re down there?” CJ knew their grandmother would have enough food ready to feed everyone twice over.

“Nah, but Tyler wants to go to the beach on Saturday. You can come with. We’ll probably hit one of the gay ones.” Randy was staring at some of the stained glass windows on the house as they walked around it waiting for their tour to start.

“Yeah, that’d be cool. The dads will have a rental car, we can borrow it or one of Abuelo’s.”

“Okay! Food, football, and family. Perfect Thanksgiving. Make sure there’s a straight section to the beach or there are a lot of lipstick lesbians on it.” Rod had stopped by the entrance to the famous architect’s studio, staring at the octagonal structure, nodding his head. “This guy was so damn good. I love how he deals with some design elements from an engineering point of view.”

“Duh! Geez, Rod, you just now realizing Wright was a genius?” asked CJ.

“Bah! All you architects wouldn’t be much without us engineers to prop you up.”

“Asshole,” whispered CJ so as not to be heard by the others waiting next to the large tree behind the house for the tour to begin. “See if I hire you to work on any of my designs.”

 

“Damn that’s loud. Fucker’s showing off.” Brett got up from his stool and walked to the kitchen to take a look out the window.

“Guess he got the ‘Vette finished. Looks good.” Cesar was rinsing off the food processor canister he’d just been using. While Brett had been reading over reports from the Davenport Family Foundation, he’d been in the kitchen prepping several meals for the coming week.

“Danno and his toys. He didn’t tell you what he wanted to talk about when he asked if he could come by today?”

“Nope. Trip’s not with him. I wonder if it’s something concerning him. Go get the door, Jarhead.”

Brett was already headed towards the back entrance and had the door open by the time their friend got to it. “Aloha, dude! Nice wheels you got there. You’ll have to take me for a ride later.”

“Aloha yourself, Marine. Here,” said Danno, tossing Brett a set of keys. ”Take it for a spin.”

“Nah, maybe later. Right now I’m too fucking curious what the mystery is you wanted to talk to my husband about.”

“For a marine, you sure are a gossipy fag, ain’t chu?”

“Who you calling a fag, cocksucker?”

“Children!” César threw the kitchen towel he’d been drying his hands with at the men. “Hey, Danno, where’s Trip?”

“Hey. Trip’s on his way to Texas. His grandfather’s not doing well. They found out he has prostate cancer. The old guy’s refusing treatment. It’s only a matter of time before he goes.”

“Oh shit. That’s why he was so quiet last night. And why he was drinking so much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Trip drunk before. Beer anyone?” Brett got a yes from both men as he opened the refrigerator.

“Nice segue, babe,” commented César. “How come he didn’t mention anything last night?”

“He was trying not to put a damper on JP’s birthday celebration, and with Tom’s kids there, he didn’t want to spoil the last night of their trip. He did ask me to let you guys know what was going on.”

César took a sip from his bottle of Dos Equis Amber. “Is that why you wanted to talk to us?”

“Nope, I want to talk about Adriano and accounting firms.”

“If he needs help he knows all he has to do is call me. Brett and I told him so.”

“The accounting firm’s for me. I’ve been using the same one the previous owner of the place had. I’m not entirely happy with them. You’re too big for me,” Danno pointed the neck of his beer bottle at César. “I need a recommendation for a good local firm.”

“I can do that. I’ll print out some names for you to call and interview. I’ll give my contact at each one a call tomorrow letting them know we’re family.”

“What’s up with Adriano?” asked Brett.

“He’s another reason I need a better accounting firm, to help me do some planning. I want Adriano to come back to work. I’ll offer to make him a partner in the business, and I’d like him and the twins to move upstairs from the bar into my old apartment.”

 

An hour later Pope and Potus stopped by to return the Escalade. They found the three men still sitting at the breakfast bar sipping beer. While Pope was in a jovial mood, Potus was somewhat subdued.

“Dude, stop with the long face already,” said Brett. “Yeah, they’re gone. And yeah, it was only a few days, but you’ll see them again in a month.”

“I just never realized how much I missed them. And how much I’ve missed out on.” Tom chugged the remainder of the beer he’d been handed as soon as he’d arrived. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out another one. “Anybody else?”

“Yeah, get me one,” said Danno. “They seemed to be good kids, Tom. The younger one was a bit reserved at first but eventually seemed to relax.”

“Mate, you’d be reserved too if you’d just met the father who was forced out of your life while you were a toddler. I was happy they accepted me and called me Pops. I was scared it was gonna be something like stepmother!”

“I’d say you could pull it off, Priscilla.” Brett’s comment brought a scowl to JP’s face and elicited chuckles from the other men.

“Did you know Bradley’s on the lacrosse team at his school? He might even get to play with the varsity as a sophomore” Tom bragged. “And Paddy’s into hockey! I used to play at his age. Can’t even recall when I had a stick in my hands last.”

“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll let you play with my stick when we get home.”

“Fucking Aussies and their hyperactive sex drive,” mumbled Brett.

“Oh? And how would you know what the sex drive of Australian men is like, Jarhead?” César wiggled his eyebrows, staring at his husband.

“You guys are too much. Is this what married life’s like?” asked Danno. “I thought you four would have calmed down after tying the knot.”

“We did. We don’t fuck twice a day, every day anymore.” The smirk on his face ruined César’s attempt at a serious look. “Worst part of being married and having a kid. Even with CJ out of town, we still did it only in our bedroom. Damn, I miss those days I was taken by surprise, bent over the kitchen counter, and fucked silly.”

“Look at the positive side, we never run out of olive oil anymore,” replied Brett.

“You guys are perverts. Sounds like bad porn to me,” put in Danno. “Personally, I never got into olive oil, Crisco’s more my thing.”

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so glad my kids left already. If they had to listen to this conversation they’d never want to visit again.”

“Fuck you.” César pointed his bottle at Tom. “When our son moved up, it didn’t take long before all of you started hitting on the kid. Let’s not even talk about making crude remarks with him in the room.”

“But CJ’s gay, mate. Different rules apply. And the little fucker handled himself bloody well. He still blushes at some of our comments, but he can dish it right back.”

“Speaking of gay,” said Brett. “Any indications on your kids’ orientation?”

“Bradley talked of a couple of girls he’s been going out with,” replied Tom. “Nothing from Paddy. Obviously, I don’t give a shit one way or the other.”

“I’ll get it,” said César, standing up when the doorbell rang. “It better not be Jehovah's Witnesses again. I might have to start praying for deliverance from preaching.”

 

“Doc! Nice surprise. Come in. How was New York?”

“Hey, César. Sorry I didn’t call first. I had planned on stopping at home and calling before coming over. Changed my mind at the last minute and had the cab drop me off directly here instead. New York was… interesting.”

“Dude, you’re welcome to come by anytime,” said Brett. “You know that. Are those bagels?”

“Yeah, brought some back from the City, can’t find any good ones here in D.C.” Doc handed the bag to Brett and went to meet the rest of his friends. “Hey guys, kinda glad you’re all here. Where’s Trip?”

“Dropped him off at the airport a little earlier, he’s gone back home to visit family.”

“G’day, mate. Good to see ya.”

“Howdy, Doc. You missed the kids, they asked about you,” said Tom

“About me?”

“Yeah, CJ’s been hard at work. He’s been giving my boys a rundown of who’s who in our group of friends. Bradley wanted to know where you were last night during dinner at Rogo’s.”

“Really sorry I missed them, Bubba.” Doc accepted the beer Brett was holding out to him. “Thanks, Jarhead. Anyway, how did it go? Are they coming back anytime soon?”

“It went well, so our tentative plans are now firm,” replied Tom. “They’re meeting us in New York in a month, and then coming back to D.C. for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s great news! I’ll be here for the holidays, so I’ll meet them then.” Doc walked over to the bar on the side of the room and brought over one of the stools so he could sit with his friends.

“I heard you say New York was interesting, mate. Does it have to do with Sean or with Chip’s kids?” César took out the container of hummus he’d prepared just before their friends started arriving, while Brett brought out plates, knives, and a bagel slicer. “Help yourselves, guys. CJ likes the hummus heavy on garlic and lemon juice, let me know if it’s too much. Or if you want some cream cheese.”

“Sean’s fine. We got together a couple of times and had a good time,” replied Doc smiling. “I like the guy.”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Brett. “Matt got laid!”

“Fuck you, Jarhead. It’s none of your business but yes, yes I did get laid. The real interesting part was my lunch with Chipper and Cristina on Saturday. And then having dinner with their mother in the evening.”

“WHAT?” Shouted most of the guys at the same time.

“Sheeet, what you boys shouting for? I’m right here.”

“Out with it, Matt,” said César.

“Fine. Short and sweet: the former Mrs. Pereira has accepted a job in Buenos Aires and is moving to Argentina in early January. That’s become an issue with the kids. Cristina doesn’t have as big a problem with it ‘cause she’s already at the dorms at NYU, and plans on being there for the next four years.” Doc sipped from his beer and looked around at the faces staring at him with a smile on his face.

“What’s she going to do with Chipper?” Tom asked.

“Chipper doesn’t want to leave the United States, refuses to move in with his dad, and would prefer not to transfer to a boarding school. So he wants me to become his legal guardian, and move to D.C. to finish high school down here.”

“WHAT?”

“Y’all are repeating yourselves, y’all.”

“Dude, you can’t just casually drop something like that and expect us not to react! Betcha CJ would love it.”

“My exact words, Jarhead. Then I had to explain to Chipper who CJ was and the boy’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider.” Doc’s comment elicited a chuckle from the rest of the guys. “He admitted he wasn’t looking forward to moving and having to make all new friends. The prospect of knowing someone his own age cheered him the fuck right up. I’ve been given a napkin to deliver to your kid with an e-mail address, Facebook and Twitter accounts, and three other things I don’t recognize.”

“So, Matt, when’s he moving down?”

“It ain’t a done deal yet.”

Doc’s phone chirped an incoming text alert, while the men were discussing the pros and cons of him becoming a single father to a fifteen-year-old boy. Excusing himself, he called King, but before he was able to utter much more than Rashid’s name and a greeting, Brett was grabbing at the phone, asking their friend to come by and join them for a beer.

 

“Friday night I was really fucked up. So Saturday, I skipped taking the pills Dragon gave me before we went to the bathhouse. I mean, I’m a bottom, right? I don’t need to be high to get fucked.”

“So you went to the sauna knowing what you were doing.” Doc’s clarification gave Rashid a moment to sip his soda. He’d refused the beer first offered to him.

“Yeah. But I got thirsty while the first guy was fucking me in the sling and I drank from his bottle of Gatorade. Later on, I realized it was probably full of G, ‘cause next thing I knew, I couldn’t get enough cock in me.”

César shook himself and rubbed his arms as if shivering. “GHB’s nasty. I did it once in college, got high as shit, and begged the two friends I was with to fuck me. And I’m not a bottom, so I can imagine how you felt. I swore I’d never touch the stuff again.”

“I’m not sure how many guys took a turn with me while I was high. The effects wore off fairly quickly though, and by the time the last one pulled out I was sober. I felt cum dripping from my ass. So at least one guy didn’t wear a condom.”

“Where was Dragon?” Brett asked.

“Oh, he and another guy were spit-roasting the Vietnamese kid. I got myself out of the sling and went to shower. After I dressed, I found Dragon and told him it was time to go back to the hotel. He popped a couple of sleeping pills and passed out.”

“Shit, mate. Sounds nasty.”

Rashid appeared embarrassed to recount the details. They were all well aware of what their friend and his boyfriend did; there was no real shock evident in their expressions. He also shared his conversation with Prescott earlier in the day, and the fact all test results were negative so far.

“So I checked into a hotel earlier and plan on staying there for the next few days. I need to make some decisions as to what I want. I don’t think I could think clearly if I was at the apartment once Devon returns tonight.”

“Fuck that shit,” exclaimed Brett. “You’ll stay here with us for as long as you need.”

“I can’t do that, Jarhead.”

“And why not? Matt did over the summer after he and Chip separated,” added César.

“Because this is different. Chip was doing things behind Doc’s back while in full control of his faculties. He lost the trust of all of us by doing so. Devon was under the influence of drugs and didn’t set out to hurt me. He fucked up, sure, but I placed myself in the situation willingly.”

“That’s bullshit, Bubba,” said Doc. “You can’t excuse behavior because he was under the influence.”

“Yes I can, when I willingly went along with the plans. At least initially. I don’t want him to be exiled from the group on account of what happened. By staying at a hotel I keep you guys from having to take sides.”

“Mate, I don’t like it. But if that’s how you feel I think we’ll all go along.”

“Thanks, JP.”

“Any idea what you want to do going forward?” asked Potus.

“Long term, none whatsoever. Short term, I’ll be going to the office tomorrow, even though I’d made plans to take the day off when I thought we’d be returning today. I plan to request a week or two of personal leave so I can fly home to London this weekend.”

Brett had kept a frown on his face during the conversation. “What are you gonna tell Dragon?”

“The truth. I need a separation to do some thinking. Visiting the family will give me an opportunity to do it without worrying about work, or being tempted to run back to the apartment too quickly. We’re gonna need to make some changes no matter what. I realized the open relationship slash party life’s not what I want anymore.”

“Fuck! What a weekend.”

 

“Anybody home?” screamed out CJ as he walked in the front door of the townhouse. As previously planned, he’d taken a cab home from the airport. “Put clothes on if you’re naked.”

“Asshole!” exclaimed Brett, bounding down the stairs, wrapping the boy up in a bear hug as soon as he reached him. “Emperor, your son is home.”

“Oh, he’s my son now, eh?” César repeated his husband’s action, enfolding CJ with his arms, giving the boy a welcome home kiss. “Welcome back, buddy. How was the trip?”

“Yeah well, you know,” replied Brett.

“Damn! The two of you sound like an old married couple. Oh, wait…”

“Asshole!” The comment came from both men this time.

“Nice vest, buddy.”

“Thanks, Papa. The trip was insane, and my cousins are sooo cool.”

“Glad you’re back safe and you had fun, Dude. Come on, sit down and tell us everything. You can take your bag up later.”

“I want a beer,” said César. “Anyone else?”

“I’m fine, babe. Had enough this afternoon.”

”No beer, but I’d love a Dr. Pepper. Thanks, Dad. I really, really had a great time. Great town, but the cousins made it insane. Dad, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Randy was gay!”

“Told you we weren’t the only ones. But it wasn’t my place to out somebody without permission. I knew you’d find out whenever you saw each other.”

“That was a surprise. And I liked his boyfriend Tyler a lot. Neat guy. And hot as hell!”

Brett mock punched CJ on the arm. “Is that what you remember of the trip, horndog?”

“Nah. Let’s see… Friday night, Aunt Lynnie and Uncle Rico took us out for deep-dish pizza. Loved it, but felt like a fat pig. The next morning the cousins and I went running around Lake Michigan, then went to Randy’s place in Boystown to shower. That’s when I met Tyler and a guy named Orlando who works for their company as a plumber.”

“Did you meet Natasha?” asked César.

“Yeah, but not then. She had run out to the grocery store I think, so it was after lunch when I saw her. Ty and Orlando invited me to go lifting with them but Rod was taking me shopping―it was gonna get cold the next day so I bought the vest―I had to pass. We had fried Polish sausage sandwiches for lunch which were outrageous. I went back to the apartment while Rod went off somewhere.”

“So you ate and shopped, that it?”

“Hell no! Saturday afternoon, when I went back to the apartment, I caught Randy, Ty, and Natasha fucking. It was sooo―”

César almost sputtered beer before swallowing. “Excuse me?”

“I caught them fucking. They’d left the door to their bedroom open and I had to go upstairs to drop things off in my bedroom. It was hot!”

“So you stood there and played Peeping Tom?” César shook his head while Brett’s expression became serious.

“Not really. I was surprised. Stood there for a bit, but then I went back downstairs until they finished. Anyway, during lunch, I met this friend of theirs named Prentiss who’s a drag queen, and he invited us to go watch his show that night.” CJ’s excitement grew as he told his story. “So they snuck me and Orlando into the bar. The drag show was sick! Mademoiselle Clochette even sat on my lap while doing one of her numbers! And after we got back home I got laid! Dads, I fucked a guy for the first time!”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Jeez, Jarhead, lower the volume. The kid said he got laid. We’ll hear details if there was a problem or if he feels like sharing.”

“Those sons-of-bitches are dead! What the hell’s wrong with those guys? They fuck in front of you, take you to a drag show at a bar, and then set you up so you can fuck some stranger? César, we need to call your brother—”

“FUCK YOU, Papa! You both told me I could talk about anything with you. I caught them by accident, Clochette invited me to see her show when I met her at lunch, and all I drank the whole night was club soda. Oh, and he wasn’t a stranger, his name’s Orlando.”

“You’re fifteen years old, you have no business being in a bar. And we already talked about you going off with men to have sex. You could catch something. Was he older than you?”

“Fine. I guess from now on I’ll just have to keep certain things to myself since you were lying when you told me to always be honest. We used protection, Randy made sure we had condoms and lube. And you’re a fucking hypocrite if you’re going to complain about the age difference, isn’t Dad six years older than you? I don’t feel like talking anymore. I’ll be up in my room. Need to unpack, do laundry, and finish some reading for school.”

CJ made no effort to hide his rage. He stood, grabbed his bag and backpack, and stomped up the stairs. The sound of his bedroom door being slammed shut was heard throughout the house.

 

“Fuck! What are we going to do?” Brett had stripped and was already in bed when César walked into their room.

“What’s this we shit? I won’t be doing anything. This is your mess. You have to clean it up. But I’ll paraphrase an old song by Jim Croce: You don't pull on Superman's cape, you don't spit into the wind, you don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger, and you don't mess with our kid.”

“Oh, great. This is serious and you’re making jokes. What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, Brett. Stop being an asshole. I’m not sure how I feel about what happened, but he definitely has a point. We told him to be honest with us, that he could talk to us about anything. Exactly what he did. Any chance we had for expressing dissatisfaction you certainly eliminated with your little outburst. That’s the first time I’ve heard him slam his door shut. Hell, I think it’s the first time he’s shut it since he moved in.”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault now?”

“If the Jimmy Choo pumps fit…”

“Fine. You keep joking―”

“Stop it, Brett. Usually, it’s me who overreacts. This time you beat me to it. Let him settle down. When he’s willing to talk, you’re gonna have to apologize, admit you were wrong, and promise it won’t happen again. If you don’t kiss and make up with our kid and make sure he trusts us again, it’s going to be a very long couple of years around here.”

“Fuck! How the hell did I get in this mess? I feel like I’m caught in a downpour of shit.”

“It’ll be okay, babe. The two of you love each other and you’ll work it out. And being caught up in a downpour isn’t the end of things. Just don’t get lost in the flood.”