Re-birth - 7. Chapter 7

Sunday morning, I woke before my alarm. My arms were wrapped around Scott, just like they were when I fell asleep. Scott was dead to the world. I carefully unwrapped myself and reached for my phone, doing something I hadn’t done in four years. I snuggled up behind Scott, wrapping my arms around his limp body, and inhaled when my nose touched his neck. I fell back to sleep, knowing I could die happy because I knew that he was mine.

When I woke again, my arms were empty, and Scott was lying on his side, staring at me. He reached out and tapped my nose, saying, “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you, but we must have slept through the alarm. Are we going on our run?”

I smirked and replied, “We didn’t sleep through the alarm, I got up and turned it off. Holding you felt so good I decided I’d rather lay here with you.”

He grinned, saying, “If you do that every morning, you’ll get fat.” He glanced toward the door and added, “Your dad’s awake. I heard him in the kitchen.”

I sat up and inhaled. “I thought I smelled coffee.” I turned back and asked, “Should we go get some before it’s gone?”

Scott laughed and jumped off the bed. My eyes followed his nylon-covered buns as he bent to grab his shorts. He stopped, still bent over, and turned to look at me over his shoulder, asking, “Like what you see?”

I felt my cheeks start to burn as I nodded and said, “Yeah, I do. I’m glad we kept our underwear on, or I might have thought about doing more.”

As we were getting into bed last night, we had discussed moving our sexual play up a step. We had agreed that while what we did in the shower was fun, we didn’t want to become one of those couples who were so focused on sex that they forgot just to enjoy life together. We also felt that, since Dad was giving us some latitude, it would be disrespectful if we crossed those lines here on our first night. Once we decided that, we thought that having our underwear on would create just enough of a barrier to keep us in check. It didn’t stop us from doing a lot of deep kissing, but it reminded us where to stop, at least for now.

Scott just giggled and pulled his shorts up, blocking my view, so I jumped out of bed and pulled on my shorts. We both were pulling on our T-shirts as we headed for the kitchen. I went straight for the coffee pot and didn’t notice when Scott stopped by the door. After mixing my coffee how I like it, I turned around and felt the tension in the room. I looked at Dad to find him glaring at Scott.

I sat at the table with Dad and casually asked, “What’s up?”

Dad’s eyes hadn’t left Scott, but now, he turned his glare to me. He sipped his coffee, sighed, and said, “To be honest, I’m a little disappointed in you two.”

I turned to Scott and motioned for him to join us. Once he was seated, I turned back to Dad and asked, “Are you going to give me some details as to why? Or do I have to guess?”

“I would think that you would know, Greg. Obviously you think you’re old enough to act like an adult.” When I didn’t reply, he said, “You’re drinking a lot lately.” When I raised my eyebrows, he added, “Not that you’re drinking has been irresponsible, but it seems to have increased since you met Scott.”

I nodded and calmly said, “Okay, I’ll agree that in the last week it might seem like I’m drinking more. Although most of it was with your consent. And I did overhear what you told Mike, and you’re right. The night that the guys stayed over, we each had a beer. Well, they each had one. Scott and I split one.” I saw his face soften just a touch, so I pressed on. “Is there more?”

Again, he glanced at Scott, then turned to me and seemed uncomfortable as he said, “I heard some noises from your room last night, and some of the things that the two of you said, well–”

“So you’re suggesting that we did something that you disapprove of?”

“You know I don’t entirely approve of…” He paused, glanced at Scott, and went on, “The church says that… I’m just not comfortable with the two of you doing things under my roof, especially while I’m in the next room.”

I thought back to last night, and as I went through the things that had happened, I started to get the picture, but for some reason, I wanted to make my father squirm just a bit, so I said, “May I ask what exactly you heard?”

His face changed to anger, and he growled, “I heard the two of you–”

“No, Dad, please, I’m trying to be adult about this. I’m staying calm; please try to do the same, OK?” He took a deep breath and nodded. “Now, what exactly did you hear? Just the sounds and words, please?”

Looking less angry but much more uncomfortable, Dad said, “I heard a bit of, I would describe it as wrestling, then a loud bang.” I nodded and waited. He sighed and added, “Then I heard him–”

“His name is Scott; please respect him by using it.” I calmly interrupted.

He glanced at Scott and said, “Sorry.” Turning back to me, he said, “I heard Scott say, well, I can’t quote him, but something to the effect of ‘God that feels good. Don’t stop.”

I glanced at Scott and saw that he was valiantly holding back a grin, although, if I didn’t know him, his face showed no emotion. GOD, I love him! I turned to Dad and tried to defuse this bomb.

“The wrestling was just that. We were just goofing off, and we were fully dressed at the time.” This wasn’t the entire truth, but I knew he didn’t want to hear that we were making out.

Dad tensed when I mentioned that we were dressed, but he stayed silent.

“The bang you heard was the two of us falling off the bed onto the floor.” Dad nodded. “After that, Scott mentioned that his back was hurting a bit, so I had him get on the bed so I could massage his back. When he said what you heard, he was talking about the massage feeling so good.”

I watched as my father processed what I said. He then looked at Scott for a long moment, then turned to me to stare for an even longer time before he said, “So you’re telling me that the two of you are not… um…”

I took a moment to consider how I wanted to reply. Did he have a right to know? If Scott was a girl, would we even be having this conversation? I had to admit that if Scott was a girl, he probably wouldn’t have spent the night in my room. Part of me said the answer to both was a resounding no, while part of me tried my best to look at it as a parent. My reply showed which part of me won the argument.

I inhaled long and slow through my nose and said, “I’ll be honest, Dad, the kid in me wants to yell that this is none of your business.” I saw him tense and knew I had to press on, so I did, “But the man you’ve made me makes me realize that, at least in part, it is your business, if only to keep me from making stupid mistakes.” He quickly relaxed and gave me a short nod. “That said, I will say that your son is still a virgin and plans to remain so, at least for the foreseeable future. Does that satisfy you? Or do I have to give you more details?”

He paled slightly, then sighed and said, “No, I don’t need details, Greg, and you’re right. It’s not really my business, but I know what can happen when young people go too far, too fast.”

I regretted it as soon as I said it, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Like boys that are born in January to parents that were married in the middle of June?”

My anger dissolved completely when I saw him flinch and then deflate. His shoulders sagged, and he said, “We always knew you’d eventually do the math. But maybe you can understand my–”

“I shouldn’t have said that Dad, I apologize. I understand that you loved Mom, and a wedding didn’t change that love in any way. I hope I don’t have to, how do I say it… I hope I don’t have to completely destroy the little fiction we have between us. Just know that I know exactly how you and Mom felt. Is that fair?”

I knew things were fine when I saw him glance at Scott and give a little grin. Dad nodded at him, then turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, Greg. I should have had more faith in you.” He quickly turned to Scott and added, “In the two of you. Scott, I need to apologize to you as well.”

Scott, once again, showed me the wonderful man that he is when he said, “You never need to apologize for loving Greg, Charlie. I completely understand.” With that one statement, Scott won my dad over and told him that he loved me without ever having actually to say it. GOD, I love this man!!

My father was never an overly emotional man, at least, not that I ever saw. That said, I’ve never known him to hide his emotions either. I know that sounds contradictory, but it’s just the way he is. When Mom died, he cried, but he didn’t sit around and cry for hours. I know he loves me, and he tells me that in more ways than simply saying it, but he’s not afraid to say it and show it. And his attitude has made me unashamed of my love for him. My friends hate it when their parents hug or kiss them in public. When my dad does it, I embrace it. Maybe it’s because I lost Mom?

So after Dad apologized to Scott, he stood and turned to me. When he stood, I knew what to expect, and I happily returned his embrace. We both whispered, “I love you”, and everything was fine between us. After the things that had been said, I wasn’t surprised when he turned to Scott and opened his arms for a hug. Scott didn’t hesitate.

When they broke their embrace, Dad took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. He quickly broke into a grin and said, “Well, since the two of you chose to be lazy this morning and sleep in…”

I glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was after eleven. I’ve never slept this late. Even when I was sick, I got up and spent the day on the couch. Of course, that had the added benefit of having Mom within easy reach to serve my every whim, but that’s not the point. I’ve never slept past eight.

He gave both of us a silly smirk and continued, “I think we should get dressed and go to the Mountaineer.”

Scott looked confused until I explained, “It’s a ski resort that’s about…” I thought a second, then turned to Dad, “How far?”

“Thirty miles, or, in good weather, about a 45-minute drive.”

Scott still looked confused as he asked, “And we’re going skiing in late June?”

Dad and I both laughed as I said, “No, we’re going to the five-star restaurant that’s right by it. Um, you do have a suit, right? Or at least a shirt and tie?”

I was surprised when Dad laughed again and said, “Knowing James, I’d bet that Scott has several suits, along with a tuxedo. Am I right, Scott?”

Scott groaned as he said, “I have two.”

Dad smirked as he asked, “Two suits? Or two tuxes?”

“Do I have to answer that?” Scott whined.

Dad laughed out loud, then said, “Please wear your cheapest suit. That way, Greg and I won’t look like paupers.”

I was still a bit confused, but I was getting the feeling that James was better off financially than he let on. I decided to ignore the issue and stood, saying, “Well, you heard the man, go home and play dress up. We’ll be ready in… an hour?” I looked at Dad, who nodded.

An hour later, Scott came in as I was trying for the third time to tie my tie. He shook his head and stepped up behind me as I was standing in front of the mirror. I had to bend my knees so he could reach his arms over my shoulders and, in one attempt, made a perfect knot in my tie. The tail was even the perfect length. I shook my head as I stared at him in the reflection.

“Damnit, how did you do that?”

He laughed, “I’ll give you lessons before our wedding.”

I was still grinning as Dad came out of his room, took one look at us, and said, “Had to have Scott tie it for you, huh?”

I was still grumbling as I climbed into Dad’s car. We had only gone two miles when Dad looked at Scott in the rearview mirror and said, “I thought we said to wear your cheapest suit?”

Scott looked down and quietly said, “This is my cheapest suit. The others cost twice as much.”

Dad glanced over at me, then back at Scott, and said, “I’d bet that one cost more than we paid for Greg’s car.”

Scott was looking embarrassed and mumbled something I didn’t quite hear. I felt odd. Usually, at school, the kids that got teased about their clothes were the ones in worn-out jeans or clothes that didn’t quite fit. Kids from families that couldn’t afford rent, food, and lots of new clothes. I was lucky, and I knew it. My dad has a good job and, by some standards, spoiled me, but he also made me understand the value of a dollar and the importance of saving for lean times. When I first started getting an allowance, Mom made three jars, and Dad put them on the shelf in my room. One was long-term savings, and they made me put ten percent of my allowance in it. The other two were short-term savings and spending money. I would put a label on the short-term jar with whatever I wanted and the cost. Then, I had to put at least ten percent of my money in that jar, with the rest being spending money. The first time my savings jars were full, Dad took me to the bank, and we opened two savings accounts, short and long-term savings.

Santa gave me my first bike, but as I outgrew it, I had to save until I had half the cost. Then my parents matched my savings, and we bought my next bike. By the time I got my first job, I was already in the habit of saving twenty percent of my income. The day I came home to ask if I could buy my car, the main reason Dad was so quick to agree was the fact that I could pay the three thousand dollars from my short-term savings. Sticking to the pattern, Dad wrote the check to Mr. Z, then we went to the bank, and I withdrew fifteen hundred and paid him back. On my last birthday, Dad let me in on the secret. Every time I had paid my share for something from the short-term savings, they had deposited it in an account they had for my education. The point of all the jars wasn’t to make me pay my own way as a kid; it was to teach me how to manage money and to learn how to set goals and reach them.

As these memories danced in my head, I realized that Scott was wearing a suit that cost over three thousand dollars. I looked at Dad’s suit and knew that he had just bought it last month and had said what a bargain it was, at only nine hundred. Mine was off the rack at Sears, and I had paid a little over one hundred. I suddenly felt underdressed and out of place. I think Scott can read my mind because he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, just for a second.

I needed to reassure him like he was for me, so I turned and said, “Well, your expensive suit definitely makes you look good. The shirt brings out your eyes.”

Target! Scotty smiled at me and said, “Thanks. Dad says you need to dress for who you’re trying to impress. To me, it just feels like showing off.”

Dad smiled and, in a gentle tone, said, “I think the best way to look at it is this, Scott. If you go to the hospital and there are two men there who say they’re doctors, one is in jeans and a T-shirt with holes in it, and the other is in dress pants, a shirt and tie, and a lab coat, who are you going to instinctively want to deal with?”

Scott nodded slowly as he imagined the scene. I argued, “But the clothes have nothing to do with what the guy knows. The one in a lab coat could be a pharmacist, while the guy in jeans might be the world’s best surgeon who just came from playing softball.”

Dad nodded, saying, “All those are valid points, Greg. And they have no bearing on the issue of first impression. If you don’t know those facts and are told that both are doctors, you tend to go with the one that’s dressed for the job.”

I thought about it a bit, then asked, “So the point you’re making, and that James was saying, is that you dress to make that first impression, then, after you’ve established yourself as the best surgeon, you can meet the same patient in jeans, and they’ll still trust you?”

Dad rolled his head from side to side a bit as he said, “In a manner of speaking, yes. But knowing when you can relax is a learned skill that comes with many years of experience. Staying with the Doctor concept, if he shows up in jeans and a T too early in your relationship and makes a simple mistake, say he, oh, I don’t know…” Dad thought for a moment. I saw the idea form just before he said, “I know, Doctors always ask women if there’s a chance they’re pregnant, right? Because they have to adjust how they treat a pregnant patient.”

Scott and I nodded, confused about where he was going with this.

“Ok, well, he’s had a long day, and he’s going through all his standard questions with you, and he asks if you might be pregnant.” Scott giggled. “That would make you wonder if he really was as good as you’ve heard, right?”

Everything connected in my mind, and I excitedly said, “And if I’ve known him for years, I’ll laugh it off, but if he’s new to me, I might doubt him. If he’s in jeans, that adds to the doubt!”

Dad smiled as he nodded and said, “Eureka! You’ve got it.”

That made Scott break down into a fit of laughter, and apparently, it was contagious because Dad and I soon joined him. When he recovered, Scott said, “Thank you for explaining it, Charlie. You really did make it easier to understand. Still, it’s not like I’m anyone that has to impress someone yet.”

“Oh, but you are someone,” Dad said in a taunting tone. “Your dad is the head of a very large business, and when he retires, you’ll take over. Well, I can’t be sure, but I’d assume.”

Scott shook his head and said, “I won’t take over.”

I asked, “Your brother, Matt? Was that part of the trip to New York?”

Scott replied, “The trip was so Dad could look at the house they were buying in New Haven. And no, Matt won’t take over from Dad. There’s already someone else lined up.” When Dad and I looked at him, he said, “Sorry, I can’t say who it is. Not yet, anyway.”

Dad gave a slight shrug and said, “Still, your dad is young. Things could change, so you need to have a certain… You need to maintain a certain appearance on the off chance that you do end up in charge. You’ll certainly end up in some position of power, if only on the board. Making you get used to wearing a nice suit sets you up to succeed.”

Scott sighed and said, “I guess. At least he’s never done the preppy, designer jeans bullshit. Oh! Um, sorry, Charlie.”

Dad took a breath to say something, then paused and held his tongue. When he didn’t say anything for almost a minute, I shouted, “Out with it!”

He grinned, then glanced at Scott in the mirror and said, “Well, I didn’t plan on today being a day of ‘101 lessons from dad’, so I didn’t want to seem like I was preaching.” I relaxed, but he continued, “But since you asked…”

Scott and I groaned, but Dad knew we were playing because he laughed.

“Ok, look, Greg knows I’ve been known to let loose with an f-bomb on occasion, and don’t you two dare try to convince me that you don’t use that language around your buddies.” We both looked guilty as he glanced at us, then nodded and went on, “I thought so. The point is, you use that language with your buddies, but you self-edit when you’re with me. Why is that?”

I almost said it was because he’d get mad, but I stopped and thought for a second. I could tell Scott was doing the same. He reached the goal just ahead of me because he said, “There’s a time and place for that language, and around our parents is neither?”

“And Scott gets the prize this time!” Dad said excitedly. He grinned and explained, “At your age, you edit your speech so you don’t get in trouble with parents, teachers, clergy, and such. At my age, I edit my speech with clients, team members, potential clients, and other parents. Why?”

“Because… sounding like a sailor could cost you money with clients and potential clients,” I replied.

Dad nodded and glanced at Scott, who said, “And team members might not respect you or have faith in your abilities?” Dad waved his hand, motioning for more. “Um… parents might… Hmm… OH! Parents might think Greg talks like you and not want their kids around him!”

Dad pursed his lips, then said, “Hmm, I think we have to split that point. What’s the score now?”

Scott laughed while I rolled my eyes and said, “I think we need to stop this now.” Scott looked concerned, but Dad looked at me with a raised eyebrow, suspicious. He knows me too well because I added, “If we don’t stop it now, he’ll start with Dad jokes next.”

That got a huge laugh from Scott and an eye-roll from Dad, but as he did it, I could see the smile he was trying to hide.

The conversation was so enjoyable and had us so focused that I was surprised when we pulled up and stopped to give Dad’s keys to the valet. We all had removed our jackets for the drive, so we were still adjusting them as we walked up to the host’s podium.

Lunch was exactly what you would expect from a five-star restaurant; the atmosphere was upscale, the steaks were perfectly cooked and melted in your mouth, the sides were interesting and tasty, and the dessert was rich and artistically prepared. Scott balked when Dad asked for his input on the wine selection, but with help from me and a recommendation from the server, we settled on a Château de Beaucastel 2002 red that worked perfectly. The server just nodded his head when Dad said that Scott and I would each have a glass with the meal.

On the drive home, Dad set the tone for the conversation by saying how he wished my mom was still alive so she could have met Scott. That led to his telling us stories about their lives together. I knew some of these, but some were new to me. He talked about how they met in school and some of their friends, he talked about a few of their more enjoyable dates, and he talked about the early days of their marriage. Of course, this led to way too many stories of me as a child. Scott was grinning at some of them and outright laughing at several while I spent most of this time blushing and groaning.

When we got home, Dad quickly changed out of his suit and gathered his bags for his trip to Los Angeles. We helped him carry them to the car, and once he loaded them, he turned to face us.

“I’ve said it a few times, but I’ll say it again. I’m very happy that Greg met you, Scott; the two of you complement each other.” Dad said before pulling Scott into a loving hug. He whispered something just before they separated, and I noticed Scott’s slight nod.

Turning to me, Dad looked almost sad as he said, “I knew you were growing into a man, but I hadn’t realized that you were there already until the last two days. I hope you don’t make the same mistake that I did when my father said something similar to me.”

“What mistake was that, Dad?”

“I thought I didn’t need his advice anymore, and I quit asking him.”

I stepped up and hugged him as I said, “I’ll need you and your advice for the rest of my life. I know nothing about raising kids, that’s for sure.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I love you, Dad. And thanks, about Scott.” I felt his slight nod, and then he got in his car, and we watched him back out of the garage and head for the airport.