Roar - Georgetown Book I - 2. Roar • Part II

“Don’t forget to text us after you land, okay?” César glanced in the rearview mirror as he slowed the car by the departures area at Washington National Airport.

“Really, Dad?” CJ rolled his eyes in disbelief. “I’d think by now you’d know better than remind me. Weren’t you the one who told me a while back I didn’t need to check in all the time anyway?”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy. Just because you’re a high school graduate doesn’t mean I won’t put you over my knee if you get too big for your britches.”

It was three days after CJ’s graduation from School Without Walls High School and he and Ritchie were headed to Miami to visit their grandparents. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just you try and spank me, old man.”

A giggling Ritchie unbuckled his seat belt as soon as the vehicle came to a complete halt. “I’ll text you after we get to Miami, Mr. A.”

“Stop kissing ass, bro.” CJ’s teasing brought a second outburst of giggling from his brother.

“I swear, sometimes I wish you were going away to school instead of staying in Washington.” César’s smile was a clear sign he didn’t mean what he was saying. “You’re a bad influence on your brother. You guys have a safe trip and we’ll see you in a few days.”

“Love ya, Dad!”

The brothers strolled towards the security gates drawing constant looks and smiles. Ritchie wore flip flops, cargo shorts and a t-shirt while CJ had on high-top sneakers, jeans, and a short-sleeved Harley-Davidson sport shirt Dragon had given him as a graduation present. Friends often mentioned CJ’s features resembled his dad’s, and while he and Ritchie didn’t have the same father, there were still enough similarities between the siblings for strangers to recognize they were related.

Before reaching the departure gate, CJ stopped in front of one of the many coffee stands scattered throughout the terminal. “You want anything, bro? I’m getting a latte.”

“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll just wait for you out here.”

As CJ returned with a cup in hand he realized his brother hadn’t moved and was busy typing away at his phone. “Move it, Ritchie! You stand there any longer you're gonna grow roots. What are you doing, anyway?”

Ritchie looked at his brother and blushed. “I… Lucy and Sasha texted me wishing me a good trip. I was just replying.”

“Lucy Wilkinson? Sasha Obama?” CJ questions were answered with quick nods. “Bro! You got two girlfriends? You little weasel. I’m so proud of you. Two-timing the women and you’re not even fourteen yet. Ritchie’s got two girlfriends… Ritchie’s got two girlfriends… Ritchie’s got―OUCH!” CJ raised his hand to balance the cup; the kid’s smack on his biceps nearly made him spill the coffee.

Ritchie spent most of the flight playing games on his phone while CJ was on his tablet. He read over several e-mails from the Clinton campaign and perused the day’s headlines from The Washington Post and The New York Times. He had purchased subscriptions to the electronic version of both newspapers earlier in the year and often spent his time riding the bus to and from school keeping up with national and world events.

The brothers put away the devices as the flight attendant rolled the beverage cart next to their seats before bringing them each a tray with snacks. “What were you reading, CJ? And why were you writing things down on that little notebook?”

“Mostly stuff about Secretary Clinton’s campaign. And I was jotting down comments from her and different people. I may want to quote something or other during one of my interviews.”

“I still can’t believe you’re doing all that stuff. And that you have accounts with Twitter and everywhere else. You always said you didn’t want people knowing all your business.”

CJ chuckled at the direct way his brother always asked questions. “You and me both, bro. Sometimes I can’t believe how much things have changed myself. You know I was never big on sharing a lot of stuff on Facebook. After I moved, I realized Dad was the same way and Papa was close. You heard about how I didn’t want to sue those cops who screwed with me a few summers ago. I agreed to keep things quiet after they resigned so my name wouldn’t be all over the news.”

“So what changed?”

“A lot’s changed since then. And if you pay attention, I still don’t share a lot of personal stuff. This is all related to the campaign for the most part. One of the dads made a comment when Robbie asked me to get involved. About the importance of a presidential campaign.”

“What was it?”

“I can’t recall which one of them said it or the exact words, but the gist was my involvement was important. And if I was to do it right, I might have to give up some privacy. One thing about the dads is they let me make my own decisions. And then they support me no matter what most of the time. I don’t mind it too much. But as soon as this is over, I’m staying away from social media for a long time.”

“I don’t know how you can say that. It’s how I keep in touch with my friends.”

“You mean how you keep in touch with all your girlfriends?” CJ smirked while nudging his brother.

“Leave me alone, CJ. Stop picking on me. Lucy and Sasha are just my friends.”

“Right. Is that why you had lipstick all over after you returned from showing Lucy the Exorcist Stairs at my graduation party?”

“Ceee Jaaay. Stop it!”

“Relax, little brother. Stop being so whiny. And anyway, I like Lucy. But there’s something else which happened that night we haven’t talked about.” CJ’s tone became serious as he stared at his brother “You broke into my Harley-Davidson coffee can. And you know the dads don’t want you smoking.”

“I… I…” Ritchie looked and sounded scared. He stared at CJ before dropping his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind. And I only took one. I was showing Lucy around and she said her grandfather had one just like it in their farm’s garage.”

“That he does. I’ve seen it.”

“Really? Does he use it for the same thing you do?”

“Yep. That’s where I got the idea.” CJ sipped his ginger ale and bit into one of the cheese sticks included in the tray. “Look, Ritchie, I don’t mind. For real. And don’t worry, I haven’t told the dads. And I don’t plan on it.” CJ looked around and lowered his voice even further. “But next time you want to get high, you come talk to me and we’ll do it together.”

Ritchie’s head shot up and he stared at his brother smiling. “For real?”

“Yeah, for real. I’d rather you do it with me around than with people I don’t know.”

“Okay…”

“But, and this is a big but. I’d rather you hold off until you start high school. You know the dads don’t give me shit about smoking or drinking. Heck, they let you drink wine if we open a bottle for dinner. But they know I don’t do either very often. I do enjoy it though, and now and then I might get a little tipsy.”

“A little?”

“Don’t be a dick, bro. Nobody likes a smartass. Anyway, they preach moderation and I try to follow their way. So no more stealing joints from my stash. You want to smoke, you ask me. We can do it in private. Just you and me and Ozzie. We can plan on doing it one night when we’re all back in DC towards the end of summer. We’ll do like a Marvel movie marathon and raid the kitchen. And if you give me at least a half-day’s notice, I’ll bake some of those red wine brownies you liked so much when I last made them.”

Arriving in Miami close to lunch, Ritchie texted César as he had promised and CJ did the same with his grandparents, letting them know he and Ritchie were at the airport and would be in Coral Gables soon.

“Campeón!” Sebastián Abelló’s usual greeting made CJ wonder if his grandfather even remembered his name. For as long as he could recall, Campeón—or Champ—had always been the way Sebastián addressed him. “ROSARIO! The boys are here.”

The white-haired grandmother rushed to the entrance. “Ohhh, it’s so good to see you boys. Drop your bags right there. We can deal with them later. I hope you’re hungry, we brought in Cuban sandwiches for lunch.”

“Abuela!” CJ wrapped his arms around his grandmother, lifted her, and twirled her around until she started complaining.

“Put me down, CJ! Put me down. You’re making me dizzy.” Once back on the ground, Rosario patted her hair, holding the other hand against her chest. “I’m too old for this. I’m still suffering from jetlag and you’re not helping.”

“I think the problem’s you’re hung over.” CJ glanced at his grandfather and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “You were drunk when you called me on graduation day. Flying back from Europe after your cruise didn’t help for sure. But Abuelo says you developed a fondness for wine while on the trip.”

The woman scowled, shifted her gaze to the younger boy and smiled at him. “Hi, Ritchie. I’m not talking to your brother anymore. Welcome back to our home. We’re so glad you’re staying with us instead of at the hotel.”

“Hi, Abuela.” Ritchie hugged the woman while she peppered him with kisses. “CJ wanted to stay at a hotel in South Beach but the dads wouldn’t let him.”

“Bah! Why would you want to do such a thing? Waste of money if you ask me.” Sebastián picked up CJ and Ritchie's bags and walked towards the staircase. “We have plenty of room. I’ll take these upstairs. CJ, you’re in the room you always used before. We’re putting Ritchie in the one next to it.”

CJ looked at Ritchie. “I get Dad’s old room. It’s where I slept whenever I stayed here before moving to Washington. You get Uncle Rico’s. And, Abuelo, I wanted to stay on South Beach because I miss the sand and salt water. I haven’t been to a real beach in like forever.”

“You boys can take the car and go one day.” Rosario slipped her arm through Ritchie’s and started walking towards the door she’d come through before. “Let’s go eat. I told Olga we would come over after you guys had lunch.”

CJ was surprised. “You’re coming with us?” The Palace―the community Olga and Juan Santos had moved into―was located in western Miami-Dade County, about a half-hour drive from the Abelló home.

“Sure. We go visit them once a week. But we haven’t seen them for a while because we were on the cruise.”

“How’s Abo doing?”

Rosario motioned for the two brothers to sit at the kitchen table and busied herself opening up a large brown paper bag sitting on the counter next to the sink. “I’ll let Olga give you the details. But he’s not doing well. What would you guys like to drink?”

CJ had tried most of the so-called Cuban restaurants in the DC area but had yet to find a decent sandwich. The bread wasn’t toasted enough, the roast pork never tasted the same, and the ham was some sweet stuff instead of the serrano used in the authentic Cuban sandwiches found in Miami. “A Coke would be good, Abuela.” Ritchie had already bitten into his but nodded his agreement.

Later the same afternoon, Olga Santos sat on a stone bench in front of her building and waved at her grandsons. CJ was behind the wheel of Rosario’s Beemer while his brother rode in front with him. Ritchie didn’t wait for his brother or the Abellós; he unbuckled the seat belt, opened the door, and ran to his grandmother. “ABA!”

Sebastián and Rosario were deliberate when getting out of the car and stopped a short distance from the group, watching the reunion. CJ turned and gave them a wink while kissing his grandmother and listening to Ritchie talk a mile a minute. “Ritchie, give it a break, bro. You don’t have to tell Aba everything you’ve been doing right now. We’ll be here for a while and we’ll come back tomorrow and Sunday.”

“Ooops, sorry. It’s just I miss her and Abo. Where is he? Can we see him?”

“Of course you can!” Olga accepted a tissue from Rosario and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m so happy to see you boys… Come on, I’ll take you to where Juan is. It’s a good day for him, boys. But he’s changed since you guys last saw him.”

“In what way, Aba?” CJ wasn’t sure what to expect.

“His speech’s become more confusing. It’s hard to understand him. He seldom recognizes people unless they’re someone he’s been close to for a long period. And in the past couple of weeks his appetite’s disappeared.”

“Can they give him anything so he’ll eat?”

“For now he’s still drinking those nutritional shakes. If he stops eating entirely, the gastroenterologist says they can put a tube in his stomach to feed him.”

“There’s one more thing we’ve talked about we think might help for a while.” Sebastián placed a hand on CJ’s shoulder when he interrupted. “I asked one of my cousins who’s a professor at Florida International University to put me in touch with someone at their School of Medicine. I suggested to Olga medical marijuana could help. I remember your father getting the munchies after he got high. He didn’t realize it, but it’s how I always knew.”

“Is it legal in Florida?

“Medical marijuana’s on the ballot in November. But there are special cases which get it under certain conditions right now.”

“Stupid Florida laws! We can always move Abo to a state where it’s legal right now and―”

“No!” Olga wasn’t loud but her tone carried authority. “We’re not moving anywhere. I’ll try the marijuana if it’s possible but we’re not moving. And if he stops eating I’m not approving any kind of tube.”

“But, Aba, he’ll starve to death!” CJ glanced at Ritchie who listened without uttering a word and looked scared.

Olga stopped in the middle of the large lobby and pointed to a couch while looking back and forth between her two grandsons. “Sit and listen to me, boys. Your grandfather and I have enjoyed a pretty good life. We left Cuba thinking we would return but after a few years realized it wouldn’t happen. Miami was our home by then. We were blessed with your mother and then the two of you. If it’s time for one of us to go, so be it. But Miami’s where we belong and this is where we’ll stay. And as far as the tube goes, would you want your grandfather to be a vegetable? Unable to do anything? What kind of life would that be?”

“But, Aba―”

“Let me finish, CJ. A long time ago both of us signed one of those legal papers that say we don’t want anything special done to keep us alive. I will respect your grandfather’s wishes. And I hope you realize when Lourdes died, you became the person with the right to make decisions if anything happens to me. Your dad has copies of all those documents but I want you to hear it from me. If I end up like your grandfather, or so sick the only way they can keep me alive is to hook me to some machine, don’t let them. You let me die.”

“Aba…” CJ almost whispered the word and then remained silent as Ritchie sobbed and hugged their grandmother.

The mood was somber for the remainder of the visit. CJ thought his grandfather was cheerful although he looked a bit gaunt. The following morning, CJ and Ritchie woke up early and returned to the home to visit their grandparents. The mood was a bit lighter and they ended up laughing while eating breakfast with the elderly couple.

After breakfast, CJ drove to South Beach and the brothers spent time on the sand and in the water, in time walking to one of the outdoor cafes on Ocean Boulevard for lunch. CJ kept staring at the Art Deco hotels and the tall modern apartment buildings and decided his next visit he would stay at the beach.

• • •

“I hate you, CJ.” For the second Saturday in a row, the brothers were in César’s Cadillac by the departure gates at National Airport. Only this time CJ was driving, Ritchie was in the front passenger seat, and the dads were in the back.

“No you don’t.” CJ chuckled while flicking the lever to unlock the rear door. “You love me!”

“Yes I do! I do hate you. How could you give me a drone as an early birthday present the day before I leave town for a month?” Ritchie and the dads were traveling to Boston where they planned on picking up a rental car and then driving to Maine where the boy was spending four weeks at summer camp.

“Stop whining, Ritchie.” Brett was already outside the car and held the boy’s door open. “But you’re right. Your brother’s a dick. Come on, time to go. We’ll spend the next few hours plotting how to fuck with him when you get back.”

CJ stared at his father and shook his head. “Asshole!”

• • •

“I’m home!” CJ shouted, slamming the front door and dropping his backpack on the ground. His arrival was met with complete silence before sounds of conversation resumed. Kicking off his flip-flops, he walked towards the kitchen in the back of the wide open space and was met by Owen at the half-way point.

“Hey, babe. How was practice?” Owen wrapped his arms around CJ and gave him a kiss.

An arm around the Aussie’s waist, CJ strolled towards the group gathered around the breakfast bar. “It was good, but I must smell like a skunk right now. Thiago says hi. He and Nadine want to go out to dinner sometime next week.”

Aware his Chicago cousins were expected to arrive while he was at the dojo, CJ skipped the bus and relied on Uber to get him home quicker. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Randy and Tyler place their drinks on the counter, stand, and move towards him. But his attention was fixed on the thin, black boy sitting on the floor scratching Wingnut’s belly.

“About time you made it home, cuz.” Randy was the first to hug him and moved aside allowing Ty to repeat the process. “We’ve been waiting for hours and we’re hungry.”

“Don’t start with me, Randy. I’ve been holding back my punches all night while at practice but I’ll deck you right now if you give me crap.” CJ dismissed his cousin with a wave of the hand and crouched next to the dog and the boy playing with it. “Hey, Silas. I’m CJ. It’s great to meet you at last, bud. I see you’ve made a friend.”

“Hi, CJ.” The kid had a friendly smile but sounded a bit shy. “I like your dog. I wish I had one to play with back at home.”

“When’s your birthday? I’ll get you one as a present.”

“Hey! Stop that. Don’t Ty and I get a say in the matter? What if we don’t want a dog?” Randy tried to look stern but failed.

“Tough titties. If the kid wants a dog, I’ll get him one. You wanna make something out of it?”

César shook his head and drained the remainder of his beer. “Crap! Here we go again. I swear the two of you revert to being children when you’re around each other. CJ, why don’t you go shower real quick. You and Randy can keep arguing while we walk to the restaurant.”

The Tombs―the family’s go-to restaurant for casual meals―was closed for the summer for upgrades so once CJ had cleaned up, they walked to Kafe Leopold. The Austrian style konditorei located on Cady’s Alley behind M Street featured a large outdoor space popular with locals and tourists alike. Known for its baked goods, the dinner menu was full of Germanic delicacies but CJ always ordered the same thing: skillet cooked bratwurst with celery sauerkraut and roasted potatoes.

“So, when are you moving in with Rod?” Tyler sat next to Taisha with Silas on his other side between him and Randy. “I mean, now that you’re engaged.”

“Not going to happen for a while, Ty.” Taisha lowered the menu and reached for her glass of water. “I’m not sure how Rod does it but the thought of living across the hallway from where I work isn’t high on my list. I love my job but I don’t want to think about it every time I open my front door.”

When Rod accepted a position with Brett’s development company, he’d moved into one of the apartments in the rehabbed Georgetown Theater. The Third Line Development offices occupied the other one in the rear half of the building’s top floor. “I’m waiting until our Takoma project’s finished. We’d like to move into one of the townhouses.”

The Takoma neighborhood was located on the northwest corner of Washington abutting the Maryland state line. The green and leafy neighborhood held on to the teetotaling, community activism, and vegetarianism popularized by an influx of Seventh Day Adventists who inhabited the area in the first years of the twentieth century. Brett’s company had purchased an entire city block with half a dozen townhouses fronting one street and an assortment of small warehouses on the opposite side.

“How’s that project coming along?” Randy had been perusing the meal choices with Silas who seemed unable to make a decision.

“As good as or better than we could have hoped for!” Brett always became animated discussing his projects. “We’ve been concentrating on the condos. Didn’t want to have people moving into the houses while the heavy construction was ongoing. But we reached the fifty percent mark in pre-sales last month. We’re hoping for a certificate of occupancy before the end of the year.”

CJ had followed progress on the multi-million dollar project with interest. The townhouses and the corner neighborhood convenience store were preserved while the other structures on the property were razed. In place of the warren of small warehouses, a mid-rise building now stood in their place. The fifty units in new construction were being sold while a separate subsidiary was created to own and lease the townhouses. He’d spent time discovering the neighborhood and watching the construction progress thinking one day he might like to follow in his father’s footsteps. “Tell them what you’re planning next, Papa.”

The comment went unanswered until the server had taken their order. “You guys know the gas station right behind our house? We made an offer on the property. We’ll see what happens but I’d like to be in control of what gets built in our back yard.”

In the evening, CJ and Owen were surprised Wingnut failed to follow them to their bedroom. The dog slept in Ritchie’s room on the second floor most nights, but whenever the kid spent the evening at a friend’s house, the dog came to the basement and settled himself in a corner of CJ’s room. When Owen called for him after everyone said good night, Wingnut had followed Silas instead.

“What do you think of Silas?” Owen scooted behind his boyfriend and reached for the toothpaste.

“I like him. And he definitely needs a dog. Wingnut took to him like a duck to water. But he seems kinda quiet. And I think I caught flashes of something or other at times.”

“Mate, everyone appears quiet when they’re around the Abellós. You and your family could talk anyone to death. Well, except for Harley. He can hold his own.”

CJ chuckled while drying his hands. “True dat. I think Silas may also be experiencing a little culture shock. He went from living in a black neighborhood in Chicago’s south side to being surrounded by affluent white people. That’s gotta be like an earthquake.”

“That could be why he spent so much time near Taisha. Although his attention was focused on you most of the night.”

“Really? I did catch him staring at me a few times. But I thought that was just because I’m hot. After all, the kid’s gay.”

“Asshole!”

While fixing breakfast on Saturday morning, CJ thought about what Owen had said the previous night. Silas had been looking at CJ throughout the evening and he suspected it was due in part to CJ being the youngest one in the crowd. And to Randy and Tyler telling him about how the boy’s situation was similar to their cousin’s: both were rejected by their parents when they came out.

CJ removed the doors and bikini top off Defiant before he and Silas left the house for a tour of Washington’s landmarks. Randy and Tyler had asked him to spend time alone with their foster son. “We can’t see everything in one day, buddy. But I’m gonna try and give you a nice tour anyway. We’ll start across the river in Virginia at the Iwo Jima Memorial. It’s like one of my favorite spots.”

“Is that the statue of the guys raising the flag? How come you like it so much?” Silas was a soft spoken kid, and combined with his shy demeanor, it was often hard for CJ to hear what he said.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I think the main reason I like it so much is because one of my dads was in the Marine Corps. Plus, you can’t beat the view of Washington from there.” CJ took a quick glance at the boy as he turned onto the bridge to cross the Potomac. “You know, Silas, you don’t have to be all shy around me. I’m only like three years older than you.”

“I… I know. It’s just that I’m still trying to get used to being around you guys.”

“How come? Is it because we’re all older?”

Silas stared out the open side of the Jeep as CJ drove. “Maybe a little? And because you’re all white? It’s just weird. I grew up in the hood and there’s been a lot of changes in the past few months. It’s not only that Randy and Ty are white. They’re rich! They’ve been spending a lot of money on me and that’s scary. And then I meet you and your dads and it’s even worse. You guys live in a mansion. And when we went out to dinner last night, the guy in front knew you and your dads by name. You guys are like big shots!”

CJ laughed so hard he couldn’t talk until he slipped the Jeep into a parking spot and turned off the engine. “Big shots? I don’t think so, bud. The dads and I tend to like a few restaurants and we go to them all the time. That’s why people know our name.”

“Yeah but it’s like they’re real restaurants. I saw the prices on the menu. Randy and Ty keep telling me not to pay attention to it but it’s kinda hard when I’m used to McDonalds being a treat.”

“Come on, let’s get out of the car. You know you and I have a lot in common, right? We were both thrown out of our house when our parents found out we were gay.”

“Yeah, Ty and Randy told me your step-father was a jerk. Like my dad.”

“That’s right. And we both got lucky after. I ended up moving in with my real father and Papa Brett and you ended up with my cousins. And let me tell you, Randy and I are always putting each other down but it’s all in fun. He and Ty are awesome guys.”

“I know that already. Kinda figured it out when the social worker first took me to meet them.” Silas’ smile disappeared as his mouth hung open when they came through the copse of trees separating the parking area and the monument. “Wow! It’s so big!”

“Pretty cool, eh? Let’s walk around it and we’ll take some pictures. Anyway, my first couple of days in Washington, the dads took me to a bunch of places and spent a shitload of money on me. It scared the crap out of me.”

“Why? You knew they were rich before, right?”

“I knew they had money but I had no idea how much. They kept spending and I kept getting scared. I was stupid. I kept thinking they might get tired of me. That they would realize it was expensive to have a kid living with them full time.”

“That’s how I feel!” More than before it seemed Silas connected with the similarities between what he was experiencing and what CJ had gone through before. “I don’t want them to send me back. After my dad put me in the hospital and all my mom did was tell me to pray and repent, I’d rather die than go back there.”

CJ placed an arm around the trembling boy and rocked him in a gentle manner. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Silas. My dads explained to me how happy they were to have me. That they never wanted me to move out. And I know that’s how my cousins feel about you.”

“But they were your dads! At least one of them was. I’m nobody to Randy and Ty. Plus I’m black!”

“Dude, are you serious? Skin color?” CJ turned the boy around to face him, placed both hands on the kid’s shoulders, and stared him in the eyes. “I think we need to get the race thing out of the way. You may have missed it last night but my other cousin’s fiancé is black. One of my best friends, Thiago, also has a hell of a lot better tan than me. And so do two of my dad’s best friends who I’ve been calling my uncles for years. It… doesn’t… matter… to us. Okay?”

“Yeah… I guess... It’s still weird.”

“Let’s get outta here. There’s a bunch more places I wanna show you. Like I said before, we won’t be able to do everything but we’ll do more next time you’re in town.”

“You think I’ll come back?”

“Shit, yeah! Of course you will. Heck, if Ritchie was in town―or if I didn’t have so much stuff going on this month―I’d tell the guys to let you stay with us for a week or two. You’re family now, bro.”

They did a drive-by at Arlington National Cemetery and the Pentagon; CJ stopped both times to take pictures of Silas in front of the landmarks but explained both would require too much time to visit and they’d do it next trip. He crossed back over the Potomac River and into DC via the 14th Street Bridge, driving into the parking lot he always used when visiting the Jefferson Memorial. “Okay, bud, we’re on foot from now on. We’ll walk along the river and head towards the Lincoln. Then we’ll weave through all the war monuments and end up back here.”

“Do you do this all the time? I mean, visit all these places?” Silas was much more talkative while they strolled through West Potomac Park. The boy seemed to be relaxing around CJ.

“Not all the time, but I’ve been to all these places a gazillion times. And I like to show visitors around. Ozzie and I do come to the Jefferson Memorial now and then. We like to sit and watch the tourists. Last time we were here―during the annual Cherry Blossom Festival when everything’s in bloom―there was a wedding on the grounds next to the monument. That was pretty cool. Or sometimes we rent a paddle boat and spend time on the Tidal Basin. Those boats have pedals like a bicycle and are a blast.”

“Can we do that this weekend?”

“Ummm, I guess we could do it on Monday. Tomorrow we’re all going out on the boat. In the past we’ve spent the night on it and watched the Fourth of July fireworks from the water. But since everyone has to work on Tuesday, we’re just going out tomorrow morning and returning late afternoon.”

“So we’re going to miss the fireworks?” The idea seemed to disturb Silas who sounded surprised.

“Not a chance. They’re on Monday, remember? We’ll pack a picnic basket and come early to find a spot on the lawn around the Washington Monument. There’s a concert by the Marine Corps Band and then we’ll catch the fireworks. Maybe we can come early in the afternoon, spend time on the paddleboats, and then meet the rest of the family to eat and enjoy the performance. We’ll play it by ear, okay?”

• • •

School, the gym, traveling, time with friends, reconnecting with Ritchie, and the growth of his relationship with Owen kept CJ busy his last two years in high school. When he added in his expanding role in the Clinton campaign, family foundation responsibilities, and assorted sporting or cultural events with the dads and or Owen, he didn’t have a lot of time to sit around trying to figure out what to do. But that was the situation CJ found himself in after dropping off the Chicago visitors at the airport.

He knew quite a few overachievers amongst his peers who had stretched themselves so thin they lacked a significant social life. He tried to pace himself, to find a balance between too much and too little. Yet he found himself with nothing to do this day; he was bored. He couldn’t even go to the gym. Anticipating free access when he enrolled at Georgetown University, he allowed his membership to expire. He explained to his dads he could survive a couple of months not lifting weights and did not want to waste money on renewing it; the payment would become superfluous once school started. Access to the facilities at Yates Field House was included in the activity fees all students paid.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out campaigning or something?” Danno, the owner of Rogo’s Bar & Grill clasped a hand on CJ’s shoulder and sat on the bar stool next to his friends’ son.

“Hi, Danno. I’m so fucking bored. I’m alone in the house and there’s nothing planned for me this week by the campaign.” The lonely sound of his complaint made CJ realize he was whining; if his father had been around, César would have smacked his head and told him to knock it off. “Figured here I would have you to talk to.”

“Dude, really? You sound like a spoiled bitch. Not that I’m complaining mind you. You know you’re always welcome here. So, where’s your boyfriend?”

“Working. And since my only real commitment this summer is to Clinton, I kinda have nothing to do but play with the dog.” By the time he returned home, CJ’s boredom had dissipated to the point he thought he would be fine until something else came along.

However, later in the week, the situation deteriorated. Owen had a conference in Richmond, Virginia and was away from home for three days; CJ was accustomed to sleeping next to his boyfriend and missed having him in bed. The shooting of several police officers in Dallas by an armed madman, and the emotional conversation with his dads, JP, and Tom left CJ in turmoil. It was one of those occasions he felt somewhat lost and was happy to be home with his parents.

On Saturday, César, Brett, Doc, and Dash caught the train to New York City for a few days stay in Manhattan, leaving CJ and Owen alone in the house, neither felt like going out. They decided to order in every night and binge on TV shows they had not been able to watch before.

“Hey, what do you feel like eating?” Owen’s voice made CJ glance at their bathroom door. His boyfriend had finished showering and leaned against the door frame while stepping into a pair of gym shorts. “I think I’m in the mood for Indian.”

“That works. Do we have a menu down here or are they all in the kitchen?” CJ sat at the bedroom desk, the muted TV on a cable news channel, writing while taking constant looks at his laptop’s screen.

“I think they’re all upstairs again. What are you doing?”

Sebastián and Rosario Abelló had gifted him a fountain pen for his graduation from high school as they had done before with their sons and other grandchildren. “Transcribing some of the things I wrote early in the year.” They had coordinated the present with his other grandparents; Juan and Olga Santos had bought him a leather bound journal. “I thought I’d use the book to chronicle all the political campaign shit.”

“Speaking of political campaigns. I’ve been meaning to ask how come you didn’t go up to New York with your dads. I mean, they bought tickets for Hamilton and I thought you’d be going. I mean, it’s a benefit for the Clinton campaign after all.”

“Two of those tickets were meant for us.”

“Really? I couldn’t have made it because of work. But how come you didn’t go? You could have asked Ethan or Sean to go with so my admission wouldn’t be wasted.”

“I didn’t go because you couldn’t. We’ll catch the show sooner or later. But I didn’t feel right going to see it without you.”

“Awww, that’s sweet.” Owen leaned over the back of the chair and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend while kissing him on the cheek. When he began twirling his fingers through CJ’s chest hair, the younger man turned his head until their lips met. The kiss intensified and CJ pushed his chair back; he stood and they embraced while running their hands over the other one’s body.

“I’ll show you sweet. Let’s work up an appetite.”

Much later, after they’d showered again and eaten, they curled up on the couch to watch a movie. “Sorry I wasn’t around when you guys were talking about the stuff that happened in Dallas. Damn meeting ran so late the boss insisted we stay another night at the hotel.”

“It’s okay. You wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway.” CJ reached for Owen’s hand and intertwined their fingers. “There was a lot of talk about guns and I know you wouldn’t have liked it.”

“Actually, CJ, it would have been okay.” Owen’s tone became serious. “I still hate the bloody things. I wish the US had laws like they do in Australia. But my attitude has changed a lot since I moved.”

“I know that! But still…”

“No, listen to me. I may not like it but I accept it. It’s a cultural thing like Tom said a long time ago. And to be honest, after your dad was held up last year and Brett saved the day by shooting the mugger… After you were threatened on Twitter… And after the Orlando shooting, I’m glad you have a gun and a permit to carry it. I didn’t mind too much when you had it on you during the vigil at Dupont Circle. I know you’re not crazy and you’re not going to start shooting unless it’s to save lives. And I know you support some restrictions on ownership of firearms.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, if it takes you carrying a gun to ensure your safety, I’m all for it. If having one means I get to have you around for a long time, then I’m good. I love you, mate. I don’t want to ever lose you.”