Autumn - 17. New York City Serenade

Friday, 8 November 2013

“That… was… fucking… sick!” CJ hitched his overnight bag up on his shoulder and jumped onto the arrivals platform at New York City’s Penn Station.

“Calm down, mate. You’re going to smack somebody with your luggage.” JP grinned at César and Brett. “I think your boy liked the choo-choo ride.”

“Fucking A! I never want to fly again. I’ll take the train instead.” They had boarded Amtrak’s Acela Express at Union Station in D.C., mid-afternoon. The train ride had been smooth, and they’d arrived in the City as scheduled, right before seven.

Tom looked around at the signs, worry on his face. A smile crossed his lips as his gaze settled on a sign for McDonald’s. “Come on, the boys were scheduled to arrive five minutes ago. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Yeah! Let’s go! I can’t wait to meet my cousins.” CJ’s phone pinged, indicating a text message. He looked at the screen, slowed down his pace, and smiled. “We’re okay, Uncle Tom. Their train just pulled in.”

Brett laughed and elbowed César. “They text CJ instead of their dad. I think I see how the weekend’s gonna go. The four of us are along for the ride so we can pay.”

“We also need tour guides, Papa. None of us have been to New York City before.”

 

CJ stared up at the building on the corner of Lexington Avenue before turning his gaze to the man holding the door to the lobby open for them. “You and Papa been here before, right, Dad?”

“Yeah, we’ve borrowed the place from Doc a few times in the past.” César extended his hand to shake the one offered by the uniformed man. “Theo, good to see you again.”

“Welcome back, Mr. Abelló. Captain Davenport. I was pleased to hear you’re now part owners. Welcome to the one-three-six family.” The numbers the man referred to were the street address of the building.

“Thanks. I think we may be visiting somewhat more frequently from now on.” César placed his arm around CJ’s shoulders; looking back to make sure the rest of the group had followed him inside. “Theo, this is my son, CJ. He’s living with me and Brett in Washington now, so he’ll be up here with us whenever we visit. This is his first time in Manhattan.”

“Welcome to the Big Apple, young man. If you need anything when you’re here, and your dad or the Captain aren't around, you let me or one of the other doormen know. Okay?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Theo, that’s JP Smith,” said Brett pointing at Pope. “The tall guy’s his husband, Tom Kennedy. They’re our best friends. The other two young ones are Tom’s sons, Bradley and Patrick. We’re all here through Monday. And I’m sure you’ll be seeing all of them again in the future.”

“Only if you come back before Christmas, Captain Davenport,” replied the friendly older man. “I’m retiring then. I’ll introduce you to my son while you’re visiting. He’s now part of the crew working here.”

 

“Wow! This place’s huge. It’s nothing like the tiny little apartments everyone told me were normal in New York.” Bradley’s comment elicited a chuckle from Brett who was holding the door open for the group to enter.

“Drop your bags in the big room on the left, boys. We’ll give you a quick tour and figure out sleeping arrangements in a minute.” César motioned for Tom and JP to follow him. “The place has three bedrooms. You two get the best one in the place. The master bedroom opens up to the terrace.”

“Mate, shouldn’t you and Brett get that one?”

“Nah. That’s going to be Doc’s whenever we’re all in town at the same time. He already has clothes stored in the closet from before. We’re planning on doing the same in the one across the hallway from it. Each trip we’ll leave behind most of what we bring. Those two rooms have bathrooms.”

“What about CJ and my two boys?”

“CJ gets the other bedroom assigned to him, so he can store stuff he wants to leave here. We see him using the place over the next few years even more than we will.” Brett was opening the curtains in front of the glass door leading to the aforementioned terrace. “Although with Chipper now in the picture, we may make some changes to the place and or the furniture. We’re sure he’ll want to come up whenever we do so he can see his sister. The two boys may end up sharing.”

A blast of chilly air hit them when JP slid open the door to the outside. “You can see the bloody Park from here! This weekend was a brilliant idea. Thank you, guys.”

“Our pleasure,” replied César walking outside. “We’ve been looking forward to this. Having the four of you along makes it even better.”

“Hey, Pops, Uncle César.” Bradley had stepped out to the terrace from the doors in the living room, followed by Paddy and CJ. “This place rocks! Thank you so much for inviting us down.”

“Yeah, Dad.” CJ was leaning slightly over the railing, looking around the partition separating the outdoor space from the apartment next door. “I had the guys put their bags in the bedroom you told me was mine. We saw a lot of blankets and pillows in one closet. I think the three of us will rough it and forget the bed and the sofa. We’re gonna camp out in the big room with the fireplace.”

 

While the boys cleaned up a bit and changed, César looked through the kitchen, making a list of things to buy at the supermarket. They would be eating most meals out, and since the place wasn’t permanently occupied, fresh items such as milk, juice, and fruits had to be purchased each time they visited. D’Angostino, a family-owned supermarket chain, had a store on Lexington which they could stop at after dinner, or first thing in the morning.

“Let’s go, men. I’m starving!” barked out Brett, holding the door to the apartment open.

“Sir, yes, sir!” snapped CJ in response. “Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain.”

Paddy looked slightly surprised and gave his new friend a questioning look. “Do you always call your dad Sir and Captain?”

“No, he doesn’t.” César locked the front door as the rest of the gang piled into the elevator. “The two of them are a real pain in the ass most of the time. CJ’s just giving Brett a hard time.”

“Oh, okay. Our grandfather always insisted on us calling him sir. I was wondering if it was the same way with you.”

“That’s ‘cause your grandfather’s an asshole and―”

“Tom!” The sharp interruption made the cop look at his husband. “Come on, mate. Give it a break. Leave the old man out of it this weekend. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“You’re right. Sorry, guys.”

“It’s okay, Dad. Remember, I told you to relax.” Bradley was looking back at his father. He and CJ had stopped on the sidewalk waiting for the crowd to exit the building. “So, what’s the plan? Uncle Brett’s not the only one who’s hungry.”

“Dallas Bar-B-Que. I forget the street, but it’s just a few blocks down on Third Avenue,” replied César. “Time for your first lesson on life in New York, boys. If you ever need to get back here on your own, walking or in a cab, you want to look for the corner of Lexington Avenue and East 75th Street. Just say Lex and Seventy-fifth to a cabby, he’ll get you here. I would avoid buses and the subway until you have a good feel for the city.”

“Dad, does that mean you might dump us somewhere so the four of you can go out and chase some New York boys?” CJ’s innocent expression didn’t seem to fool anyone.

“Asshole!” said Brett.

“Bloody, impertinent twerp!” put in JP.

“Yuck!” added Paddy.

Bradley looked at his brother walking next to him. “Yuck? What’s that supposed to mean, Paddy?”

“Fuck you, Brad! I told you to stop calling me Paddy. That’s a gay name!”

 

Patrick’s outburst caused everyone to remain quiet while they walked toward the restaurant. Being the Friday night of a three-day weekend meant the place was crowded. They had time to kill before a large enough table became available. The four adults went inside to get Margaritas for themselves and sodas for the boys. Brad pulled his brother aside, speaking to him quietly while waiting for their father’s name to be called. Both had serious expressions while whispering to each other; the older brother looked furious. CJ took it all in quietly, watching the cars zoom by and the crowds jostle each other on the streets. He knew he’d talk to them later that night.

Conversation resumed once they all sat, but the group was somewhat tentative when speaking to Tom’s youngest. CJ and Bradley talked non-stop to each other and the adults. JP placed a hand on his husband’s arm once or twice while shaking his head. Paddy ate quietly. When they pushed their chairs away, and Brett signaled for the waiter to bring their bill, the table resembled an ossuary. Although the conversations were cordial, while strolling back to their building, there was still a certain tenseness in the air.

 

“Okay. Out with it dickhead. What the hell’s wrong with you?” Bradley growled at his brother. They’d returned to the apartment and sat around working out their plans for the next day before the adults had eventually gone to their rooms. CJ and the two Kennedy boys stripped to underwear and t-shirts, arranged blankets and pillows on the floor, and turned on the TV.

“Fuck you! Leave me alone. I already told you to stop using that name, but you keep doing it.”

“Well, asshole, you may need to keep reminding me for a while. But did you have to say Paddy’s a gay name the way you did? Did you forget who the fuck we’re with? I’m sorry, CJ. Please forgive my little brother’s homophobia. I may have to kick his ass before the weekend is over.”

“Screw you, Brad. Just try it and I’ll show you I’m stronger than you. Even if you’re taller.”

“Maybe nobody beats anyone up? The hospital is right across the street, but I’d rather spend my time sightseeing.” CJ’s comment made the brothers chuckle. “Do you have a problem with the rest of us being gay, Patrick?”

“No! Thanks for calling me Patrick. It’s just that…” The boy averted his gaze, staring at the TV screen for a second, before looking down at his hands. “The guys on the hockey team have been giving me a hard time about Dad being gay.”

“They what? When did this shit start?” The anger in Bradley’s tone was unmistakable. “Who the fuck and what have they been saying?”

“Chill, Brad. Let your brother tell us what’s happening before you start planning anyone’s murder.” CJ’s comment once again made the brothers chuckle.

“Our dear cousin who plays on the same team I do.” Patrick looked at his brother. “He started it. He told everyone you and I came to visit Dad and Pops. And that with a name like Paddy I was probably a fag too.”

“That asshole! Just wait until we’re back home in Boston. I’ll deal with him.”

“I kinda did already. Last practice I checked him real hard. Chipped two of his teeth. I’m sure I’ll get shit from asshole grandpa. But the problem is a few others have started calling me Faggy Paddy. I can’t beat them all up.”

“You can’t. But I can do something. I can talk to the coach. He won’t be happy with his players calling you names. His daughter is in my year, and I know she’s a lesbian. Her parents know too, and they’re cool with her.”

 

“What you doing, babe?”

Brett, sitting up in bed fiddling with his phone, watched his husband slip his thumbs beneath the waistband of his jeans and slip them off together with his boxer briefs. “Right now drooling, looking at you get naked. Before that, I was checking out the app I downloaded for the subway and bus systems.”

“Tell CJ to download it in case we get separated at some point. What do you think of Paddy?”

“Ugh! Not sure. He seemed to calm down after Brad talked to him. CJ whispered to me he would deal with the kid tonight.”

“If anyone can do something, our boy is it. I feel bad for Tom. He was definitely confused about what to do. I think he’s scared of trying to discipline them in any way.”

“Wouldn’t you be? We’ve had CJ for six months and I still fucked it up. The man’s almost certainly terrified of driving them away.”

“Well, at least Bradley jumped in and handled it. But I’m curious as hell about what’s going on.”

“What’s going on right now, big guy, is my dick’s getting hard. This is our first night in the apartment as owners. We need to celebrate. Turn off the light and get in here.”

 

César and Brett begged off, heading to the supermarket to stock up on basics instead. Paddy wanted to sleep in. JP and Tom told them they wanted to stay with the young boy and talk to him. With nobody else interested, CJ and Bradley bundled up as best they could and headed off to Central Park for a morning jog. They mapped a route that took them around The Lake, the Jacquie Onassis Reservoir, and behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art, before returning them to the apartment.

The boys returned to find Tom sitting on a couch, his arm around Patrick, the kid leaning against his body. The other three men were in the kitchen drinking coffee while preparing breakfast. The two runners said hello, went to CJ’s room to get clothes out of their bags, and then went to different bathrooms to shower. By the time they returned, dressed for the day, there was a platter of scrambled eggs with vegetables, fresh bagels, and cartons of juice on the dining table. CJ grabbed a cup of coffee in the kitchen, while Bradley fixed himself a cup of tea, as Brett started dishing out the food.

 

“Jarhead, stop talking so much and pay attention,” said César grabbing his husband’s elbow and pulling him close. “You almost ran into that muscle-bound gym bunny.”

The Marine glanced back at the guy he’d nearly walked into, a smile forming on his lips. “What makes you think I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Asshole!”

“Ready for your first New York City subway ride?” Brett rested his arm on CJ’s shoulders as they took the steps down to the platform.

“Sure thing, Papa. How long’s the ride?”

“We’re headed down to Battery Park, at the southern tip of the island,” replied César, staking a spot next to the boy on the other side from Brett. “It’ll be some thirty minutes.”

“How come we’re not visiting Ellis Island too, Uncle César?” asked Bradley.

JP stood opposite the other men as they waited for the train to arrive. “We want to show the three of you kids as much as possible. Ellis Island’s the type of place we could spend most of the day at.”

“There’ll be other trips to New York,” added Tom. “We can visit the museum there in the future.”

“Are we gonna climb to the top?” Patrick had been somewhat quiet the entire morning. He’d kept himself near his father the entire time, often initiating frequent physical contact, which caused Tom to smile. “I wanna see where Magneto strapped Rogue to his machine.”

“You’re such a dork, cuz.” CJ bumped fists with Bradley who joined him in laughing at the younger kid. The boisterous boys were drowned out by the rumble of the approaching train. “But… I guess I’m just as bad, I wanna see the same thing!”

“Did you know the mutants in the X-Men series are meant to represent gays and lesbians?” César’s question brought the boys’ laughter to a stop.

“Waddaya mean, Dad?”

“The premise of people being born different, and being discriminated against because of those differences, is a parable for how gays and lesbians are seen by many.”

“You mean a parable like in the bible, Uncle César?”

“That’s right, Patrick. The comics and movies are based on the struggle of the mutants to fit in. Bryan Singer, the director of most of the movies, is gay―so is Sir Ian McKellen who plays Magneto. They’ve both said the characters’ battle to be accepted is a reference to the fight by gay men and women for equal rights.”

“Cool! I’ll have to watch the movies again when I get back to Washington. What do you think, Papa? An X-Men marathon next weekend?”

“Fuck yeah!” The group’s laughter echoed through the noisy subway car, making some of the other passengers look up at them and smile, something which took place more than once during the ride.

“Come on, mates. We get off at the next stop. We have a ferry to catch and a crown to climb.”

 

“Mates, as the only one in this group not born in the country, I have to say that was an incredible experience.”

“Was it your first time visiting the Statue, Pops?” Bradley appeared somewhat surprised at Pope’s comment. “How long have you been living in the States?”

“Yep. First time ever. I think… yeah, ten years. See, I came to study and went to the University of California at Berkley for four years―that’s when I first met Brett. After graduation, I returned to Oz for a while. I came back in 2007 to work at the Embassy, and the year after I met your father.”

“Did you know Papa Brett and Uncle JP dated while they were in college?” asked CJ with a mischievous look. “I’ve asked them if they―”

“Oookaaay,” interrupted César. “You guys want a picture with the bull?” After disembarking from the ferry, they had taken Broadway heading north, and were approaching the bronze statue that was a financial district icon.

Patrick, who had remained close to Tom during their visit to Liberty Island, looked up at his father. “Is this Wall Street, Dad?”

“The actual street’s up ahead,” replied Tom. “I think we need to detour before we get to it, because of all the construction around the World Trade Center. We can go there if you want. Maybe take pictures in front of the New York Stock Exchange building.”

 

The sky was clear of clouds, a bright, cheery blue in sharp contrast to the somber mood of the visitors to the memorial. The cold wind blew leaves around the two black granite pools created on the footprints of the World Trade Center Towers. The seven men stood in silence. They stared at the names inscribed around the outside of the two squares, of the nearly three thousand people murdered in New York, Pennsylvania, and the District of Columbia, on September 11, 2001.

“Fifty fellow cops died that day. Doing their jobs. Helping people.” Tom stopped, his body wracked by sobs, tears flowing freely down his face. While a few other visitors dabbed at their eyes, his sons wrapped their arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? For being human? For showing emotions? Mate, when I was told you’d been shot I thought the world had come to an end. I couldn’t conceive of a life without you. Wanna talk tears?”

“The bastards changed the world that day.” Brett, standing behind CJ, put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and pulled him against his body. “While I was deployed overseas, I thought of what they did to our country every day. Sometimes, it was the one thing that kept me focused. Anger and revenge can be powerful motivators.”

“I watched a special on the History Channel about it.” Patrick’s voice was soft as he spoke. “They showed the planes hitting the buildings. I don’t understand why anyone would want to kill themselves and all those people by doing that.”

“Misguided religious feelings, mate.”

“The worst part was when they showed a bunch of Palestinians, even kids my age, dancing in the street. Celebrating. I wish all those fuckers would drop dead.”

 

“Anyone know what the concretosaurus is gonna be?” asked Bradley, pointing with his hot dog towards a construction site near the memorial.

CJ rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his soda. They’d decided to get food from one of the numerous street vendors in the area instead of going to a restaurant. They had plans for an early dinner later on. “Concretosaurus, cuz?”

“Yeah. Those things look like the ribs of a prehistoric monster.”

“Show some respect, Bradley. You’re looking at the future World Trade Center PATH Transportation Hub, designed by Santiago Calatrava.”

“Say what? How the fuck you know this shit? And who the hell is this Santiago Calawhatever guy?”

“Ca la tra va. I got a long dissertation on it last month when I was in Chicago. My cousin Randy’s studying architecture. When he heard I was coming to New York, he told me all about it. I need to take some pictures for him.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Man, it’s going to be one of the great public buildings in the United States. Calatrava is a world-famous architect and engineer from Spain. His designs are sick. This one’s created a lot of controversy because of its cost, delays, and because some people think he was more interested in the beauty of it than in being practical. Same shit has happened with any large public building in history. Those ribs are sorta his design signature. He’s used similar things in other buildings. When finished, it’ll resemble the wings of a bird on the outside. Inside, it’ll be flooded with natural light.”

“Shit,” mumbled César so softly it was barely audible.

“What did you say, Dad?”

“Nothing, bud. It’s starting to sink in. The realization you’re really not going to follow in my footsteps, go to the University of Florida, and study accounting.”

“Ha!”

 

Brett stopped and waited for CJ and Bradley to catch up to the rest of the group. The boys had lagged a few steps behind, lost in conversation. “I’m getting cold and tired from all the walking, guys. Maybe we should go into one of these stores, warm up a bit, and do a little shopping?”

“Sure, Papa. Where?”

“Let’s try Schott’s. This is a new location they opened for their 100th Anniversary. Your dad and I haven’t been here yet.”

“What’s the big deal with this place? Wait. Did you say Schott’s?”

“Ah, Grasshopper….”

“Papa! You’re fucking kidding me!”

“What’s Schott?” asked Patrick.

“Schott’s has been making jackets for the past hundred years and still manufactures them in the USA, Patrick,” César replied. “They make bomber jackets, pea coats, letter jackets, and of course the Perfecto!”

“Oh shit! To quote my friend Harley: I think I just jizzed a little. Guys, the Perfecto is this incredibly ultra-magnificent, out-of-this-world, coolest-ever motorcycle jacket. The dads own them. They promised to buy me one when I moved to Washington. I’d forgotten about it. We’re going to get me one today? Fucking A! This rocks! I love you, dads. You’re the best!”

“See, Tom? All you need to do is surprise them with a new toy now and then. They're putty in your hand afterward.”

“Sure, Emperor, but this new toy’s almost a grand, ain’t it? What happened to a new set of Legos?”

“I gave mine to Ritchie. Hey, didn’t you say something about your jackets being made famous in a movie?”

“Marlon Brando, 1953, The Wild Ones. Maybe we can find it and watch it tonight. We could forget our dinner plans and order pizza,” Brett suggested.

“Mmm, pizza.” César accompanied his remark with an exaggerated licking of his lips.

“Now you sound like Homer, Biodad.”

“Biodad? What the fuck?”

“I was telling Brad Papa Brett was officially adopting me sometime soon. It got me thinking I should just call him Dad. It’d be confusing to call you both the same thing, and since you’re my biological father…”

 

“Sean!” CJ threw his arms around the man, hugging him hard.

“Damn, boy! So great to see you again. Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Shut up! Don’t be a dick.” The kid took a step back, motioning for the other guys to catch up to him. “Sean, these are Tom’s sons. The good-looking one is Patrick. The one with weird hair like yours is Brad.”

“Fuck you, CJ. You’re just jealous ‘cause us gingers are way sexier. Hi, Sean.”

“Hey, guys. Nice to meet you both.” Sean bumped fists with the two boys and then extended his hand to the four adults for shaking. “Welcome to my hometown, gentlemen.”

“Thanks, mate. I’m glad you were free for dinner tonight.”

“My pleasure. I have a client later tonight. We’re going to some sort of high-class party. But not until midnight.”

“You have to work on a Saturday night? That sucks.” Patrick’s remark made the guys from D.C. chuckle. “What? What did I say?”

“I’ll explain later, cuz. Can we go inside? I’m cold. And I’m hungry.”

“Let’s go. I still can’t figure out why you people insisted on meeting in Little Italy. There’s much better Italian food elsewhere in the city.”

“It’s a tourist thing, Sean,” César replied. “It was either this or Chinatown. I flipped a coin.”

“Oh, César, by the way. Here’s a key to your apartment. Doc gave it to me to use the weekend he was here and I forgot to return it.”

“Why don’t you keep it?” César put his arm around Sean’s shoulders as they followed the rest of the group into the restaurant. “We trust you, you’re on the permanent guest list, and if you ever need the place in an emergency…”

 

Returning to the apartment, the kids had each taken a bathroom to shower off the dirt from an entire day of wandering around New York. The four men had stayed outside on the balcony, having a drink and smoking cigars, until the boys were finished. Rubbing their hands together, trying to warm up after the time spent outside, they said good night to their sons, reminding them they planned on leaving the apartment early the next morning and called it a night.

“CJ, why did everyone start laughing when I asked about Sean?” Patrick sat on the floor with the other two boys; all dressed alike in sweatpants and t-shirts, sipping hot cocoa.

“Ummm. Sean’s an escort. And he also works in movies,” replied CJ trying to think of how to best explain the situation to the younger boy.

“He’s an actor?”

“Not really, cuz. He makes porn. Both gay and straight.”

“Oh… Oh my god, you mean he’s like a prostitute?”

CJ tried not to spill his drink as he started laughing. “Bingo! But he’s not like out on the street or anything like that. He’s expensive. I’ve traded emails with him and asked him some questions. Like this guy he was meeting tonight to go to a party? He’ll probably pay Sean at least a thousand bucks for the night.”

“That’s disgusting! How can you be friends with someone like him?”

“First, he’s not hurting anyone with what he does. Second, it’s not up to us to judge him. Third, he’s a hell of a nice guy. Let me tell you what happened with Uncle Matt this past summer…”

 

After stuffing themselves full of pancakes at a diner near the apartment, the men had walked down Fifth Avenue, looking into shop windows, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city. Following their visit to Rockefeller Center, and some shopping at the NBC Experience Store, they’d headed further south to the Empire State Building. The iconic 103-story skyscraper―completed in 1931―was the world’s tallest building until 1970, when the north tower of the World Trade Center topped out. Following the destruction of the twin towers in 2001, it was once again the tallest building in New York City.

CJ had enjoyed the visit to Rockefeller Center. He loved how the gilded statue of Prometheus silently stood guard in front of the building, while the throng of tourists and locals contributed to the cacophony created by the constant traffic on Fifth Avenue. The view from the Top of the Rock observatory was good, but it didn’t compare to what he was looking at now.

“Damn! What a great view.” They were on the eighty-sixth floor, outdoor observation deck, following a brief visit to the much smaller and enclosed one on the one hundred second floor. “That’s the Chrysler Building, right?” He pointed at the gleaming metal crown of the structure a few blocks away.

“You got it, bud. And across the river is Queens.” Brett returned CJ’s phone after snapping a picture of the boy with the classic Art Deco structure behind him.

“Ummm. They named the place after you and Biodad?”

“Asshole! And stop with the Biodad shit. Call him Dad. I love being Papa.”

 

“This was a great idea, Pops.” Bradley spoke with his mouth full, after taking a bite from his Pastrami Reuben. They had stopped at a deli for take-out sandwiches, walked over to Times Square, and sat on the steps in front of the giant lighted billboards to eat. “The sandwich is the shit. Not sure about the Dr. Brown Celery soda though.”

“It’s an acquired taste, mate.” JP was sitting on the other side of Patrick who was as close to Tom as he could be. César, Brett, and CJ were a couple of steps above them. “I can’t believe you never had gherkins before.”

“Nope, but I’m loving them. They kinda remind me of Patrick’s little pickle.”

“Fuck you, Brad.” Patrick hissed at his brother. “And stop talking about that kind of thing in public. It’s not nice.”

“Go get yourself a sense of humor, little brother. Stop being such a―”

“Bradley! Please.” Tom placed an arm around his youngest boy while looking at the older one. “How ‘bout we give Patrick a little break. I’d like both of you to enjoy the trip. Okay?”

“Sure, Dad. Sorry, Patrick. Can I ask a question? How come we’re going to see The Lion King? Isn’t that like a story for little kids?”

“Not the Broadway production,” said Brett from behind them.

“We wanted to catch a play so you kids could say you’d been to a show on Broadway,” added César. “I didn’t think something real serious was right for a Sunday afternoon, and I was able to get great seats for this one. I’ve seen it a couple of times. You guys are going to enjoy yourselves.”

 

“I’ll get it!” shouted CJ as he walked towards the door of the apartment. Brett and JP were in the kitchen, opening up containers of Thai food delivery. César and Bradley were stacking plates and eating utensils on the dining table, while Tom and Patrick sat close together on the couch watching SportsCenter on ESPN. “Theo said it was them when he called.”

When he opened the door, there stood a lanky kid about his height, with floppy brown hair parted on the side and covering up most of his forehead. He recognized Chipper from his Facebook pictures. Next to him was a pretty girl who looked a little older and had to be his sister Cristina. Behind them, an older blonde lady smiled nervously.

“Hi Susana, good to see you. It’s been a couple of years.” César had walked up behind his son without the boy noticing, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gently moved him to the side so their visitors could enter the apartment. “Please come in and meet the guys.”

“That’s a great shirt, bro. I recognize it. Ben Cohen was wearing it in the picture you posted with that other dude after your school rally.” Chipper was pointing at the StandUp Against Bullying t-shirt CJ was wearing.

“Thank you, César. I brought a little something as an apology for barging in during your vacation.” The woman handed over a bag containing half a dozen bottles. “I hope you enjoy wine. These are from one of the best vineyards in Argentina. The company I work for distributes them in North America.”

“Hey, Chipper. Come on, let’s go talk to Bradley and Patrick while the old people do their stuff.” CJ motioned for the boy’s sister to follow them. “Cristina, you should come with us, you don’t want to be bored.”

“Mate, don’t be such an impertinent twerp. You just met these people.” The other adults had joined the visitors in the foyer. “You and I are going to get along, Susana. My family owns vineyards back in Australia. I’m JP, and this is my husband Tom. The kids are Bradley and Patrick, his sons.”

“I love the one you’re wearing.” CJ indicated the black t-shirt worn by Chipper. “Chrysler Building is my favorite one so far in New York. What’s the Global Citizen Festival?” The shirt had an old-style postcard design on it with the aforementioned structure in the center.

“Oh wow, a fellow citizen from the Southern Hemisphere who knows about wine.” Susana followed the men into the main living room. “Thank you again for inviting us over. I’ve been so worried about Chipper moving on his own, I keep having doubts about it. I wanted to meet your son. I think I heard they’ll be going to school together? And also your friends, since I gather you’re all part of a close-knit group.”

“Entirely understandable, ma’am.” Tom sat on an armchair across from the woman. “We will all be around to keep an eye on the kid when he moves in with Doc.”

“Global Citizen is an organization working to end extreme poverty in the world, CJ.” Cristina was following the four boys as they moved towards the second living area in the apartment. “They held a large music festival in Central Park back in September and that’s where the shirt came from.”

“Wish I’d been there. Sounds like a great thing. And I would have loved to get one of those shirts.”

“Hey! Wanna trade?” asked Chipper excitedly. “I can get another one and I’d love to have one like yours.”

“Hell yeah!” CJ was already pulling his shirt over his head. “I’ve got a couple more like this one back home.”

“Guys! Come on,” the redheaded boy was shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s a lady present.”

“Bah! It’s only my sister…”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to sit with Brad since he’s a gentleman.” Cristina smiled at the kid from Boston whose freckles suddenly seemed to merge into one crimson patch covering his entire face.

 

“I want to call this meeting of Kids With Gay Fathers to Order.” Bradley’s joke brought laughter from CJ and Chipper, and a frown from his brother.

“That’s not funny, Brad.”

“What? It’s the truth. All four of us have a gay father. Hell, once his adoption’s legal, CJ’s gonna have two.”

“It’s still not funny.”

“Why’s that, Patrick?” asked Chipper. His mother had agreed to let him spend the night with the other boys. He would be taking a cab home the next day when the out-of-towners headed to the train station.

“I don’t know. I just don’t think it’s something to brag about. I mean, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. And I don’t want kids at school to find out. I don’t need them to give me a hard time”

“Too late for that with me,” put in CJ. “My entire school knows I’m gay, my friends all know I have two dads, and my best bud likes them so much he wants to move in with us.”

“Me too. I mean my friends all know my dad’s gay. It’s not a big deal.” Chipper stretched his legs out and leaned back on his elbows. “No one would even think about giving me a hard time.”

“But don’t you go to a religious school?” Patrick hugged the cushion he held to his chest a little tighter.

“Yeah. So? If anyone ever even thought of saying anything they would get in big trouble. And not so much with the school, with the other students.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m on the basketball team―Junior Varsity, not the big guys. Last year, the captain of the senior team started this program where we all took part in making a video about accepting gay students. All these straight jocks pledged not to make fun of gay kids, to treat everyone the same, and not to put up with anyone being bullied.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. I’ll give you a link to watch it on YouTube. Most of the guys also made individual ones and posted them online. The whole thing got picked up by a foundation and the Straight Up: Love is Louder campaign is expanding nationally.”

“Fucking A! That’s awesome, bro. You and I are gonna do something like it next semester when you get to Washington.” CJ had stood up and was walking around the room, his enthusiasm evident. “I can’t wait for you to meet my buds!”

 

“So, what do you think?” mumbled César while brushing his teeth.

“Ha! Tonight I’m ready for you. You’re asking about Chipper. Right?”

“Jarhead, your powers of deduction are truly amazing. Of course I’m asking about Chipper.” César finished up in the bathroom, turned off the light, and moved towards his side of the bed.

“I think that’s one great kid. I hope he and CJ get tight, they’ll be good for each other. Going to the same school and living so close means they’ll see plenty of one another.”

“Not to say anything of who he’s living with. I think Doc’s making the right decision by taking him in. Matt will be a good influence on the kid.”

“You mean like you and I have been on CJ?”

“Sure, go ahead and take credit for our boy. Asshole. CJ’s special. And I’m not just saying it because he’s my son. The way he’s dealt with his world being turned upside down is nothing short of amazing.”

“Yeah. The kid has great instincts. The way he’s reacted to the situations he’s found himself in shows he’s not going to back away from a challenge.”

“Ready to get back home tomorrow?”

“I guess. But I’m going to miss this place. We have to start coming up more often. This city always leaves me energized. The people, the sights, the smells, the sounds… I love how they create a New York City serenade.”