Summer - 17. Better Days

César and Brett lifted weights most Tuesdays and Thursdays and some Saturdays when they had the time. Other days they used the treadmill or spinning cycle in their room, played racquetball, basketball, or went swimming. When the weather was nice they jogged outdoors or met friends on weekends to play ultimate Frisbee, soccer, or rugby. There was a group trying to start a gay rugby team in the city and they were looking forward to maybe being a part of the effort.

CJ was working with weights four times a week and running on Wednesdays. He was searching for a Dojo to join; he still practiced his martial arts regularly but wanted a sensei to study with. His dads had worked out and left for work by the time the teen entered Yates Field House. Chatri was already there waiting for him with a big smile on his face. CJ raised his arm intending to bump fists with his friend but was instead enveloped in a tight hug by the medical student.

“Buddy, I’m realizing the day I met you was a very lucky one for me.”

“Stop flirting, Chatri. You’ve got a beautiful girlfriend and even though I like older guys, I’m way too young for you.”

“Jerk! Is sex always on your mind?”

“Yep, you got a problem with that?” The boy tried to sound rough but his giggling ruined the tough-guy image he tried to portray.

“Silly question to ask. I remember being your age. I wanted to say thank you on behalf of Helen and me. Her conversation with Dr. Calhoun turned into an interview which turned into a job offer. A great job offer. She started today as his head nurse!”

“Congrats. By the way, the last line is way too easy, so I’ll let it slip by. You had me confused for a minute with the Dr. Calhoun thing. It’s always been Doc or Uncle Matt since I first met him.”

In the afternoon, CJ had a telephone interview with Senator Rubio’s Chief of Staff, who asked the teen about a dozen questions concerning his family and his education before officially offering him the internship. He described the program in general terms: this was the first year and they were still tinkering with it. What the participants became involved in would depend on what was taking place in Congress at the time. He did guarantee the teen he would not be running errands and getting coffee; they were trying to find bright individuals who might at some point consider running for office themselves. Starting date would be July fifteen, but he suggested CJ drop by the Senator’s office the week before. Since he was already in Washington, they could get the paperwork taken care of before he started.

No mention was made of the young man and his family not fitting the profile of supporters of the Senator or the Republican Party. CJ realized he was in all likelihood being used to make the politician appear to be more middle-of-the-road, something he would need if he did make a run for President as some suspected. That was just fine with the boy; he was getting an incredible opportunity and he didn’t mind why it was being offered.

At the end of the conversation, he was told his internship partner would be a recent graduate from Walton High School in DeFuniak Springs, a small town in the panhandle of Florida.

CJ tried to concentrate on cardio work and martial arts training on Wednesdays; he had mapped out different routes for five-mile runs and today was trying one of them for the first time. The teen was ticked off about the San Antonio Spurs taking a two-to-one lead in the NBA Finals the previous night and planned on working off his bad mood with a good sweaty run.

Starting at home, he jogged through the streets of Georgetown for a while, eventually reaching the shore of the Potomac River. Following a combination of park paths and street sidewalks, he ran past the Watergate Complex, the Kennedy Performing Arts Center, and across the Memorial Bridge into Arlington, Virginia. His route then took him to Arlington Ridge Park and the Netherlands Carillon.

Located adjacent to Arlington National Cemetery, the Carillon was a gift from the people of the Netherlands to the United States, made in gratitude for America’s aid during and after World War Two. It was almost eleven o’clock and the teen stopped for a water break, walking around so as not to stiffen, while waiting for the music to begin. The Carillon played Westminster Chimes every hour on the hour and American patriotic music twice daily.

CJ circled the Marine Corps War Memorial―commonly known as the Iwo Jima Memorial―and the small wooded area next to it. Dedicated to the United States Marine Corps members who had died in action since 1775. Having explored the monument during previous visits, he knew the statue was based on a famous picture by photographer Joe Rosenthal. It captured six servicemen raising a United States flag on Iwo Jima during World War Two.

From the park, it was an easy jog back across the Key Bridge, up the Exorcist Steps and two hours after he left the house, CJ was back home.

After a great workout Thursday morning, CJ returned home to shower and change into khakis and a polo shirt. He was meeting Martha Edwards at her school to discuss his possible enrollment for the coming school year. The bus ride took just under thirty minutes; public transit was the way CJ would travel to almost any school in the District of Columbia he decided to attend.

After speaking with Mrs. Edwards a couple of times, CJ had done a bit of research on the web. He learned Walls had been consistently ranked as the top high school in the District of Columbia and one of the best in the region. It had been established in 1971 and had a close working relationship with George Washington University―offering joint teaching in some subjects.

Principal Edwards was thrilled CJ agreed to meet her for lunch and consider Walls as a potential school to attend; he had impressed her so much. She felt the young man was smart, respectful, inquisitive, and had poise seldom found in kids his age. She was convinced he would be an asset to Walls and could become a very popular student if he decided to attend.

“CJ! I am so glad you could visit us here at Walls,” said the African-American woman greeting the boy. “I hope you realize I’m going to be in full sales mode during the tour and lunch,” she added laughing.

“Yeah, I sort of figured that out already, Mrs. Edwards. You may not have to sell as much as you think.”

“Oh? Do tell, please.”

“I did a little research on y’all and I like what I read. Walls sounds like a great place and somewhere I’d feel real comfortable. I’ll apply for admission and hope I’m accepted. I want a school where I can get a good education, play sports and participate in clubs and other activities. At Walls, I’d want to join the GSA from the start. After the incident at the Pentagon involving the bully and spending a lot of time with my dads and their friends, I’ve decided I’ll be out at school from the start.”

“You’re pretty sure about what you want, aren’t you?”

“No ma’am, I’m really not. But there are certain things I've experienced recently which make me think I can make a difference by being open. The fact I can physically defend myself eliminates most of the concerns about bullying. I think more kids would benefit from being able to stand up for themselves, so I’d also like to maybe start a Martial Arts/Self Defense Club.”

“Interesting idea you have there and worth exploring. I may have a concern about random acts of violence if we have a bunch of Bruce Lee clones running around.”

“Yes, ma’am, that could be a concern, we would need to figure out something. I was recently lucky to spend some time with Ben Cohen, he’s an English ex-rugby player and founder of the StandUp Foundation―”

“I’m familiar with the organization. We considered purchasing one of their programs but couldn’t afford the cost at the time.”

“I’d love to see the efforts of his organization become widespread. This may sound like I’m trying to buy my way into Walls, but if I’m accepted there’d be no need to pay for their programs, Mrs. Edwards. Mr. Cohen was very gracious during the time we spent together. He offered to conduct a seminar himself at whatever school I decided to attend this fall.”

“Young man, you’ve impressed me from the start and I guess you’ve done the same with others. I think whatever school you attend will be fortunate to have you as a student. I believe you can make a positive contribution to the institution and be a good influence on the students you come in contact with.”

“Well, I hope it’ll be Walls.”

“About that, please complete the application as soon as possible and get it to me; it’s a requirement. As far as I’m concerned, you were accepted after our first meeting. I’m looking forward to spending the next three years with you.”

“That damn boy of ours is one surprise after another, Brett. He’s charmed all our friends, Brian Sims, Ben Cohen, and now Martha Edwards. I’m scared of who else we’ll end up listening to praise him.”

“I know, right? Two days ago was the acceptance into Senator Rubio’s internship program; today was his acceptance into Walls by Martha Edwards. He’s making this raising-a-kid thing look easy.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way, babe.”

“I have faith in him, César. I have faith in him and in his father, the man I’m crazy in love with. G’night, big guy.”

“Good night, Jarhead. And for the record, I’m crazy about you too.”

Family Date Night was decreed during the week by the Emperor. As their lives regained a semblance of normality, and foreseeing CJ starting school and having more obligations, one night each week would be set aside for the three of them alone. The choice of activity would rotate amongst them.

For this first one, CJ picked pizza and Man of Steel, the new Superman movie. He made sure to wear one of his new t-shirts―a black one with the superhero’s S logo on it. The three of them enjoyed the action, the special effects, and the looks of the actor playing the Man of Steel. They agreed the guy was hot and loved the hairy chest; Brett swore César could have been a double for the man.

Doc easily settled into life at the Georgetown townhouse. He would be there for about a month before his new condo was ready. The turmoil of the past week had left him tense and itching for physical activity. When César, Brett, and CJ invited him to play some hoops Saturday morning, he jumped at the opportunity. When Tommy and JP called that morning and found out what the plan was, they invited themselves over. The game was a three-on-three challenge with the prospect of good exercise and a good time.

Once the Aussie and the cop had joined them at the house, the group headed to the courts at Yates and spent the better part of the morning running around, shooting baskets, flagrantly fouling each other, and constantly talking trash.

“I can’t believe a kid, an old man, and a kangaroo fucker beat us. What the fuck’s wrong with you, Doc?” Brett was quick to blame but Matt just smiled and gave the marine the one-finger salute.

“Excuse me, Papa, but don’t blame Uncle Matt for the crushing defeat you suffered at the hands of superior athletes. You sucked out there. How many times did you turn the ball over?”

“Yeah, CJ, you tell him, mate. And I’ll have you know, Jarhead, I haven’t rooted a roo in ages! Tommy keeps me happy in that department.”

“Y’all just wait until next time.” Once again César had the last word.

Sitting in the locker room before hitting the showers, CJ caught a great picture of Tommy with his arm around Brett―both shirtless and smiling. It was a damn good image, and the boy paid them a great compliment when he said he hoped he looked that good at their age. CJ was right, the group of friends took care of themselves and it was no wonder so many guys stared at them when they were walking around Pride with their shirts off.

“Guys, I hope it’s okay I invited Sean as my guest for the Fourth of July weekend on the P P.” Doc sounded a tad hesitant as he made his announcement; he knew the questions would be coming fast now.

“Who’s Sean?” That was Brett.

“Is he sharing your cabin on our boat, mate?”

“A date already, Matt?” Tommy this time.

“Will he feel comfortable being around all of us?” César, the most thoughtful group member asked. Not so much interested in who or why, but on whether the guest would be okay. The man never ceased to amaze.

“My Sean, Uncle Matt?”

“Your Sean, CJ? Damn you make me laugh.” And he did as the other men looked at him with surprise on their faces. “Yep, your Sean, bud. He somehow got hold of my cell number and called me on Sunday to apologize again and to ask how I was doing. I met him at Starbucks two days later and we somehow spent over three hours talking. Sean Owen Brody’s a very interesting man. He mentioned a business trip back to DC the week before the fourth and asked what my plans for the weekend were. I thought he would fit in so invited him to join us.”

“Oh crap… the man is a walking wet dream. I’m gonna spend the entire weekend with a boner! So, Uncle Matt, you think I could hide in the closet and watch the two of you go at it? I promise to clean up whatever mess I make in there.”

“Asshole!” exclaimed Brett. “Fucking teenagers and their hyperactive hormones. The fact you’re Cuban just amplifies the problem ten-fold. I should know since I live with an older version of you!”

“I look forward to having him spend time with us, Matt. He sounds like a good man if he thought of calling you after meeting you just once.” César again cut through the noise and showed he was more than a pretty face.

“He won’t be the only new guy on board. My rellies let me know my cousin Spencer is coming for a short visit so he’ll also be with us.”

“What’s on your mind, bud? You look preoccupied.” After their morning basketball game, Brett took CJ out for a late lunch while César took Doc shopping.

“Nothing, Papa.” The boy twirled a couple of french fries in the restaurant’s chipotle sauce and popped them in his mouth before sipping from his large iced tea.

“I call bullshit. There’s definitely something rattling around in your head and I want to hear about it. I thought we agreed we could talk about anything.” Brett took a final bite of his crab cake sandwich before pushing his plate away. They were at Philips Crab Deck, a restaurant perched on a dock jutting out on Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, enjoying the nice afternoon.

“Well, I was thinking about all the guys and their relationships. Chip cheated on Uncle Matt and now they’re broken up, Dragon and King told me they play around with other guys and I don’t understand how they don’t get jealous―what if something happens with you and Dad? I get scared when I think about it.” The boy looked up at Brett as he said the last words and the moistness in his eyes was evident.

“Not a chance. Not… a… fucking… chance that’s going to happen.” The marine kept his sight locked on his son’s eyes and smiled. “You can stop thinking about it, there’s nothing for you to be scared about. Your dad and I are in it for life. We’ve been that way from the moment we met. Neither one of us has been with another man since that day.”

“But I get scared maybe one of you will slip. There’s hot guys hitting on the two of you all the time. See? Like that guy there.” CJ almost whispered as he motioned with his head towards a man sitting a couple of tables away who blatantly stared at Brett. The father looked over, nodded his head at his admirer, and turned back towards his son.

“He’s hot, CJ. That guy is good looking and his tank top doesn’t hide his great body. But he’s not your Dad. And your Dad is the man I’m in love with.” Brett reached across the table, grabbed CJ by the neck with one hand, and messed up his hair with the other. “Even if I got tired of César, which will never happen, I couldn’t break up with him. I’d lose you if I did.”

While Brett and CJ rode the Harley to lunch in Baltimore, César and Doc headed to Waldorf Chevrolet Cadillac for a little shopping. Although there were closer Chevy dealers to Georgetown, César had purchased his Cadillac at Waldorf and the young salesman helping him then was knowledgeable, helpful, and professional. Roger had become a father a few days before César met him and the guy had not stopped talking about his wife and his daughter back then.

“I want to see a picture of your girl.” César’s initial words put a gigantic smile on the car salesman's face. He was waiting for them as promised when he got a call earlier in the day. “Oh, and this is my friend Matt Calhoun.”

The young man was everything César had promised and more. He listened to Doc respectfully when he asked questions about accessories, confirmed the car’s intended use, then offered to show him some of the ones in inventory. If he liked any of those, they could take it for a test drive, even it if wasn’t precisely what Doc wanted. The exact car could be found at another dealership or ordered from the factory in Kentucky.

It was love at first sight. Matt could not take his eyes from the black 2014 Corvette Stingray Convertible Z51 3LT. For around seventy-five thousand, Doc would get the ultimate American muscle car. A 6.2 liter, V-8 engine, producing 455 horse power, a 7-speed manual transmission, and every possible electronic gadget you could ask for.

“Where do I sign and can I charge it to my Amex?” Doc asked.

“Yes you can, my friend. Yes you can! Would you like to drive it home?” Roger was already walking towards his office, there was paperwork to be completed.

“Hell yeah! Get that puppy ready for me and you got yourself a deal.”

César was happy to see his friend smiling; shopping therapy did help. Between Sean and the Vette maybe it wouldn’t be long before Doc bounced back. Preventive measures for a mid-life crisis and a broken heart.

“Today was the one-month anniversary of CJ coming to live with us, Captain.”

“Crap! It’s only been a month? It feels as if he’s always lived with us, I can’t imagine better days.”

“I know. He’s a good kid. I’m glad you and he had the chance to talk today, after the shit he’s gone through, the thought of another broken home must have been nagging at him big time. He’s been steady for the most part, but until he starts school and makes some of his own friends, I’m going to keep asking all the guys to make him feel welcome and wanted.”

“I don’t think you have to ask, César. And I don’t think they’ll ever stop doing it. The boy has wormed himself into everyone’s heart. Good night, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too, Jarhead.”

Thursday night Rogo’s was packed with basketball fans but Danno had reserved a large table for his group of friends. Alejandro, the manager and a San Antonio fan, bet CJ a dozen hamburgers his team would win. If it happened, CJ would babysit his yet-to-be-born twins the same number of times. The final game of the NBA Finals brought out a large crowd, but CJ was the one cheering the loudest when Miami beat San Antonio to win their second title in a row. He was going to enjoy his free meals and made himself as obnoxious as possible in front of the bar’s manager.

The era of LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, and Chris Bosh―The Big Three―was proving to be everything the fans had expected. Three consecutive appearances in the NBA Finals, two consecutive Championships, and two consecutive Finals MVP awards for King James.