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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

Millennium - 56. Chapter 56

January 26, 2000

 

I collapsed into the limo, exhausted from the long day of travel, from talking to people, from talking with people, and from dealing with all of this crap with Robbie’s extended family. The kids all seemed great, but I was just tired. Robbie duplicated my moves and flopped into the seat next to me. I looked at him, at his profile as he stared ahead, and saw that his expression showed the internal contortions he was going through. He looked at me, and then looked straight ahead, saying nothing.

We’d gone maybe half a block when he leaned forward and slammed his fist into the back of the seat in front of us. “Fuck!” he yelled, and hit it again.

The intercom buzzed, so I answered the phone, briefly ignoring Robbie’s outburst. “Is everything alright?” the driver’s voice asked.

I put my hand on Robbie’s shoulder and he shrugged it off, but I put it back and he left it there. “Everything will be just fine,” I said soothingly to both of them.

I hung up the phone and Robbie turned to me, and now that the rage had flashed, the sadness was there. There were tears streaming down his face. I pulled him to me, into a big hug, and just held him while he cried. We got to the house but I told the limo driver to just sit there and give us a couple of minutes. It felt so good to hold him and be strong for him, just like he’d been strong for me this past month.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a fucking idiot,” he said. “What kind of pussy cries like this?”

“A football kicker,” I said, teasing him. I saw him fight the smile, but he couldn’t; I’d hit his humor button.

“Very funny.”

“I thought so. It made you laugh,” I said lightly as I ran my fingers through his hair. He shook his hand; it was sore from hitting the seat. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who beats up cars. I told you it can be painful.” That made him laugh even harder.

“Let’s go in,” he said. We thanked the limo driver and headed inside, conveniently dodging everyone as we wound our way up to my father’s old room. As soon as we walked into the room, he turned around and hugged me tightly, so tightly it almost hurt. “I love you,” he said, in that way that was so sincere. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” I told him. “And I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh yeah, I’m so fucking wonderful. How can you be proud of me?” he asked me belligerently. “I ran away from here and turned my back on everyone, then when this kid calls me for help, my boy toy, an asshole who I risked the most important relationship of my life on, turns him away and doesn’t tell me. And I’m such a fucking pussy, I’m afraid to come back here and face these assholes, well not Wally, but these other fucking white trash assholes that fucked me up so bad in the first place.”

I pushed him onto the bed and landed on top of him. “As a matter of fact, I do think you’re pretty fucking wonderful. You make it sound like what happened to you, what those guys put you through, was just something you should have shrugged off and moved on from. It’s not like they did it once and then left you alone. They did it a lot, and they made you think you wanted them to. You’ve worked real hard to get beyond that, and you’ve done better at handling it than anyone else could have.” I wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but I wanted him to feel better, so a little hyperbole was in order. “You faced down Fred Hayes at the Festival last year, and now when you’re confronted with Wally and he apologizes, you forgive him. He seems like a really good man, and you gave him absolution. I would hope that I could do that, but I’m not sure that I could.”

“You would have and you know it,” he said.

I rolled over onto my back and pulled him on top of me, making him feel loved and secure like he did for me. “What you did for those kids was really amazing.”

“It pisses me off,” he said. “I’ve got so much money, that’s like chump change. Here I could be making a huge difference in their lives, and I’m not.”

“No, that’s wrong.” It was funny how that pissed him off, me contradicting him like that so directly, even when he was an emotional basket case. “They’re just now at the age where it would matter, and here you are, ready to make it happen for them.” I put my finger on his lip to shut him up. “And don’t go giving me that shit about how you could have sent them money all along and made this a lot easier.”

“I could have,” he objected.

“Those people aren’t happy or unhappy because of money. They’re happy because they’re a family. Yeah, you might have made things less of a struggle, but they’re no worse for the wear. Wally and Clara spent all their money raising those kids. Now you’re taking the financial burden of college for their own sons onto your own back. That’s huge.”

“It’s not enough,” he said.

“Fine, then do more for them. But you saw how Wally reacted to the idea of getting charity. I think you’ve done as much as you can for right now.”

“Then why do I feel so shitty,” he said.

“Because you like to do this, to beat yourself up. If we were at home, I could take you into the dungeon room and do it for you.”

He snaughed. “That might be fun.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” I told him in my slutty voice. “I’ve been watching this amazingly strong man all day long, and I want him to make love to me.”

“You don’t want to have sex with me?” he asked, joking.

“Dumb ass,” I said playfully. “Come on, fuck me.” I ran my leg across his groin, across his hardening cock, and got a growl. He turned into a complete animal, rolling me over onto my stomach, ripping my pants off, and then fucking my brains out. He was amazing, the way he pounded me and pounded me. He brought me off long before he came, but I didn’t care. Just the feeling of being with him, having him in me, feeling him release all of his stress and anxiety into me, was heaven. After he finally came, he collapsed on my back, his mouth next to my ear so I could hear and feel him panting.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, concerned

I laughed and pushed him off of me. “I think we already established who the pussy is. It was awesome.”

“You’re the reason I can handle this,” he said to me as I pulled him to me and held him close.

“Now you know how I feel.”

“What do you mean?”

I smiled down at him as he looked up at me, confused. “You remember how I was reeling after Kevin dropped that bombshell on me, how I was staggering after that learning about my bio-dad, and you were there for me?” He smiled at me, understanding what I was saying.

“I get it. I don’t think David really understood why you could let something like that totally transform how you felt about me, but I do. I do now.”

“It’s about being a team,” I said in a clichéd way.

“I remember when I was still with Neil and I came down to see you over Spring Break. You were giving me a bunch of shit about how I always came to you when I had problems, trying to get me all pissed off, then you reminded me that that’s what partners do. They rely on each other, and they support each other. I really don’t deserve you.”

“You forgot the other part. They forgive each other. We’ve both fucked up in the past, and we’ll both make mistakes in the future,” I told him. “It’s not an unequal thing. We deserve each other.”

We lay in bed for a long time, just enjoying the physical and emotional closeness of being together, until he finally spoke again, changing the subject. “What do you think we should do about Gathan?”

“We really don’t need to do anything about him,” I said.

“I meant his college choice,” Robbie said, mildly irritated.

“Make sure he’s making his decision based on where he wants to go, not what he can afford.” To me this seemed pretty simple.

“But if he got into Stanford, don’t you think he should go there?”

“Robbie, it doesn’t matter what I think or what you think, the only thing that matters here is what Gathan thinks.” I could tell by his expression that he didn’t agree with me. “He’s going to be really pissed off at you if you come breezing into his life and start telling him what to do.”

“What if he wants my advice?”

I laughed at that. “You’ve got three teenage sons. How often do they come in and ask you for advice?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Darius asked me which brand of condoms was best. That’s asking for advice.” He was teasing me now.

“What did you tell him?”

“Oh, so now you’re asking me for advice too?” I laughed, and then made love to him.

 

January 27, 2000

 

“How come you didn’t tell us you got into Stanford?” Robbie asked Gathan as soon as we sat down. We were at Tonto’s old house, the Claremont City Museum, and we’d commandeered the upstairs sitting room to have our after school chat with Gathan.

“Did you grow up here?” he asked me, ignoring Robbie.

“I lived here when I was young, but then I moved to California,” I told him.

“It’s a really big house,” he said as his eyes scanned the tasteful if outdated décor of the room. I guess that’s how museums were supposed to be.

“The one I grew up in, and Robbie too, after he moved out to California, is actually a lot bigger than this,” I told him. Robbie stared at us, flabbergasted that we were having this conversation and totally ignoring his initial question. But it was obvious to me that Gathan was nervous, and he liked to be in control of the situation, so I decided to let him, at least for a while.

“Will we get to see it when we come to California this summer?”

“I assumed you’d get to see it before then,” I told him.

“Why? I’m not moving to California,” he said adamantly.

“I didn’t say you were moving there, but if you got accepted into Stanford, before you make a final decision you should at least visit it. Where else did you get in?”

“I got into two schools in California: Stanford, and UC Berkeley,” he said. “I got accepted to Princeton, in New Jersey, and I applied to Washington University but I haven’t heard anything from them yet. And Ohio State.”

“I graduated from Princeton,” Robbie said, and looked at me a little nervously. All these years, and that decision still bothered him.

“What about you?” he asked me in his smart ass tone. “You go to UCLA?” He was trying to make me sound like a dilettante.

“UCLA is a really good school,” I said calmly, “but actually, I graduated from Yale.”

“With honors,” Robbie added, getting a smile from me for mentioning that. “He gave the honors sash he wore at graduation to his grandmother. It’s on display in one of the cabinets downstairs.”

“Oh,” Gathan said, deflated.

“You’ll have to think of something else to tease me about,” I told him. “Education was a huge part of my upbringing. When your dad’s a professor, it’s inevitable.”

“So why don’t you come out and visit Cal and Stanford,” Robbie suggested. “You can go see the other ones as well.”

“Those were really the only two I wanted to go to besides Ohio State,” he said. “I think Berkeley would be my first choice.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Stanford will be too stuffy, with too many rich kids,” he said.

“Some of the kids there come from wealthy families, but some don’t,” I told him. “They’re all smart though. It would be tough.”

“I’m not an idiot,” he snapped.

“The jury’s still out on that one,” I joked. “Robbie’s son Matt plays hockey for Stanford. He can show you around.”

“Really?” he asked, showing some enthusiasm.

“Yeah, but if you’re this big of a smart ass with him, he’ll probably kick your ass,” Robbie teased, rejoining the conversation.

“As if,” he said, which really made me laugh, since Matt could pound Gathan into dust, even though Gathan was pretty muscular.

“Just so you know the choice is yours,” Robbie said. We gave him our cell phone numbers, said goodbye, and then we were ready to head out. I went to track down Stef and JP, who had decided to stay over until today as well. We got our stuff together, said a brief goodbye to Nick, and headed to the plane.

“Well that was a most eventful visit,” Stef observed.

“Gathan kept asking where you were,” I teased.

“He is adorable. You must lure him out to California and right into my clutches,” Stef joked back. It was even funnier to see Robbie get irritated at having Gathan treated like some vulnerable sex object.

“You may lure him out there, but I doubt you’ll keep him there,” JP said calmly.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“He’s been a huge help to Nick as he’s put together this plan. Gathan has seemingly limitless amounts of energy. He spends most of his time after school at City Hall, and became such a fixture there Nick finally gave him a part time job.”

“So you’re telling me he’s a devoted citizen of Claremont?”

“It would seem so,” JP observed. “If I was going to go out on a limb and make a prediction, I think he may very well end up as the mayor some day.”

“That’s a pretty big leap, JP,” Robbie said skeptically. “From part-time student worker to mayor.”

“A Hayes as mayor of Claremont,” I mused. “Maybe he’ll have to run against Barry or Harry. Schluters vs. Hayes.”

“We’d win,” Robbie said playfully.

“We’ll see,” I responded, taunting him.

 

January 31, 2000

 

“I’m so glad you came down this weekend,” I told Stef as we sat in my kitchen eating breakfast. He’d come down to spend time with me and the kids, although they hadn’t been around all that much. “Were you missing the Hollywood scene?”

“Hardly,” he said dismissively, but I knew otherwise. We’d gone to a reception on Saturday night and Stef had been his old self, the life of the party. “I must say, though, that life in Palo Alto can be decidedly dull at times.”

“See, I knew we were just an excuse for you to have a good time,” I teased.

Only he didn’t laugh. “I know you are joking, but I want you to know how hard this has been, living up there. Say nothing to JP, because I love being around Ace and Claire, but I feel as if I really belong here with you and your family.”

I smiled. “With our family. You are part of us even when you’re not here.” I got up and gave him a big hug. I’d never given that a lot of thought, how he must have felt when he moved up to Palo Alto. I knew he was happy with JP, but I didn’t really factor in the sacrifices he’d made. We heard the clumpy footsteps of a teenager and broke off our embrace to see which one of my kids was wandering into the kitchen.

“Christ, I go from one house where they’re yelling at each other to this one where you guys are all in tears,” Darius said with all the tact and diplomacy of a teenager.

“Who is yelling?” Stef asked.

“Mom and Tiffany,” Darius answered as he grabbed a breakfast roll and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Try and eat like a civilized person,” I groused at him. What was it about teenagers that made it impossible for them to follow basic social mores?

“Right,” he said, his tone letting me know that my words had absolutely no impact on him whatsoever.

“What are they fighting about?” Stef asked, too curious to pretend that he wasn’t.

Darius got an evil smile. “You should go find out for yourselves.” I looked at Stef, who shrugged, such a French gesture. I didn’t say anything; I just walked over to the other house with him behind me.

We walked into the kitchen and right into a firestorm. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to get pregnant, not you,” Tiffany yelled at Jeanine. Jeanine was pregnant? I hid my shock as I took in the scene in front of me. Tiffany turned and saw us, and our eyes locked. Hers were on fire, ignited with anger. I thought about what Matt and Wade said, and decided that if that anger turned to passion, she’d be one hell of a lay. No wonder Jeanine was with her. Suddenly the thought of them having sex was intensely erotic. “What do you want?” She demanded of us loudly and rudely, pulling me out of my heterosexual fantasies.

I was about to answer when Stef intervened. He looked at her calmly and severely. “I do not appreciate being yelled at. If you will address me in a courteous tone, I will respond in kind, and I think we will both find that to be much more pleasant.”

Tiffany turned her angry gaze at Stefan, but the steely look from him seemed to stabilize her, and I watched, fascinated, as the anger seemed to magically drain from her face. “I’m sorry Stef,” she said sheepishly.

“I will forgive your transgression as long as you share with me what you are so upset about,” Stef said with a smile, smoothing things over just as he’d done in so many other situations. How funny that he’d use that as an opportunity to dig for info. He was such a gossip.

“I was supposed to be the one trying to get pregnant, but instead it seems that we both are,” Tiffany said, giving Jeanine a dirty look. I looked at Jeanine but she avoided my gaze.

“And you are feeling cheated now because it will not be special, that you will have to share this experience with someone else?” Stef asked her, hitting the nail right on the head, and making Tiffany seem like a complete idiot at the same time. “And you feel this way even though the person you will have to share the limelight with is your lover?”

“I’m working through it,” Tiffany groused. I tried not to laugh, but it was hard not to. She glared at me to let me know she noticed my struggle.

“I think you should take a different approach,” Stef said. “You will be able to go through this together, and that will give you a kindred spirit to guide you as you become a mother. And the fact that Jeanine has done this once already will become even more valuable as you progress.”

“What are you now, a gynecologist?” I teased him.

They laughed, while Stef ignored me and continued his lecture, only with his airy, sarcastic tone. “It will be a team project. Cannot you lesbians learn to work together? Why is it that you put two women together and they cannot seem to get along?”

I watched Tiffany and Jeanine digest his words, focusing on them and not the uncomfortable silence in the room. Then Tiffany walked up to Stef and kissed him on the cheek, shocking the shit out of him. “You make some very good points Stef. Thank you.” She turned to Jeanine. “I’m sorry I got upset.”

“You were just trying to figure things out,” Jeanine said back with a loving gaze. They were so perfect for each other: Tiffany, volatile and passionate, and Jeanine, who was stable, loving, and supportive. It dawned on me that in a lot of ways, their relationship was like mine used to be with Robbie. Somehow, though, we seemed more balanced than that now. I guess I had curbed some of my domineering tendencies, and he’d learned to be less of a victim. That took me down a new path, a different train of thought, as I tried to remember the last time he’d actually whined. It had been a long time, a really long time. I thought about how good we were together now, and that made me smile, until I noticed that everyone seemed to be staring at me while I daydreamed.

“So who are the fathers?” I asked, pretending that I wasn’t a very interested party.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeanine snapped.

“Well, it’s been a while since I took biology, but unless things have changed that much, you still needed a man to help with this process,” I said, being a smartass.

“It’s either you or Robbie,” Jeanine said, getting that I wasn’t calling her a slut.

“And which boys have you been playing with?” I asked Tiffany in a teasing tone.

“Wade or Matt,” Tiffany said. “I’m not a slut, like some,” she said, looking at Stef and me.

“How terribly pedestrian of you to think being a slut is a bad thing,” Stef replied with as much disdain as he could muster.

“My slutty days are over,” I declared. Jeanine smiled at me, and it felt so good to be in a positive place with her and with our relationship, especially now that she was pregnant with my child or Robbie’s child. “So you have any idea which one it is?” I asked Tiffany.

“How the hell should I know?” She was frustrated at the uncertainty, and that made her seem even cuter.

“Wade said that it would have to be him, since Matt’s sperm are all stoned and swimming in circles,” I joked, repeating Wade’s quip. It got a laugh, and that helped ease the mood further.

“We don’t know yet. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to find out,” Jeanine said.

“Well I think this is cause for celebration!” I announced. “Have you told Wade and Matt yet?”

“No, only you and Stefan,” Tiffany said.

“And Darius,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You have to learn to argue more quietly with teenagers in the house.”

“I’ll control my volume in the future,” Tiffany groused.

“If I could wager a bet against that one,” Stef quipped, “I would be able to win another fortune.”

“Like you gay guys never argue,” she said.

“Our mouths are usually full,” Stef said, making me laugh harder still. We walked back to our house and into the front room. I stared out at the waves with Stef next to me, doing the same thing.

“So one of you will be a father again,” he observed.

“I hope it’s Robbie,” I told him honestly. “He didn’t get to help raise Matt, and I think he missed that.”

“That may be, but you are a good father, an excellent father. Look how well you have done with Will,” Stef said.

“You know, Stef, it really doesn’t matter to me which one of us is the father. I’ll raise him or her just as if it were my own child, regardless.” I was so happy that I firmly believed those words, and I was even happier that Stef seemed to believe them as well.

“I wonder how Matt and Wade will handle the news?” he asked.

“They knew what they were getting into,” I told him, but I wondered if that was really true.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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