Professional Courtesy - 3. Chapter 3 Jeans and Genes

Protective services? Henrico County in Richmond? What has Brenda done now. . .and Mike . . . what the hell’s going on?

 

“Just a minute.” Eric glanced over to see a barely-awake Brian yawning and scratching his balls with very healthy morning wood. A sleepy smile of contentment was plastered on his face.

 

He covered the telephone receiver mouthpiece. “Babe, I’ve got this call that’s important. I’m going out to the kitchen. Join me when you’re ready.”

 

“Yeah, a whiz is in order,” Brian answered softly.

 

“Use whatever you need.” Eric winked, grabbed a photograph off the wall and walked out of the bedroom with his cordless phone. The picture was his favorite keepsake memory of his son at the age of four.

 

“Sorry for the interruption, Mrs. Tulliver. Is Mike in some kind of trouble?” As he entered the kitchen, Eric set down the picture on the counter and braced himself for news that would warrant such an early-morning call.

 

“Goodness, no. . .but he’s going to need your help, I’m afraid.”

 

Eric automatically grabbed the coffee canister and measured out enough Dark Sumatra blend for the two of them into the Mr. Coffee machine.

 

“How can I help? As much as I wanted to, Brenda has not let me be a part of his life for the past six years.”

 

“The boy’s mother, now using her married name of Brenda Tanner, died yesterday of an apparent suicide. Your son found her when he returned from school.”

 

Eric almost dropped the pot he’d been filling with water.

 

“Ah, this is . . . ah . . . a complete shock.” He set down the pot and stared at Mike’s picture while considering the news. “How did you track me down?”

 

“Mrs. Tanner left a note. She was obviously very distraught because her husband left her and moved out of state. In the note, she mentioned your name . . . that you were the biological father and wrote down your phone number. However, I can’t read everything she wrote yet because of the police investigation. But I will tell you that she wanted to make sure that you knew, and I quote, she ‘made a mess of things and hope he’ll take care of Mike’. She also left a pile of letters, dating back as far as six years ago, written by you to your son.”

 

Eric shakily poured the water into the machine and turned it on.

 

“This is a hell of a way to wake up and I’ll of course do anything I can for my son. . .even though I hardly know him now. Does he know much about me? Where is he, by the way?” Eric sat down on a chair; the cold, vinyl surface making him aware for the first time that he was still naked.

 

“Mike’s in the outer-office but I thought we should have a private discussion first. I know this is all very sudden, Mr. Flynn. May I ask what you are prepared to do for the child? He’s been temporarily assigned to live in a county childcare center.”

 

“Be a father, better late than never. I live in the condo I grew up in . . . t’s in a good school district . . . his grandparents don’t live that far away . . . I’ve got a job that gives me a good living.” Eric let out a sigh. I guess that makes me proper parent material? “I need to figure out how to get to Richmond ASAP to take care of any paperwork that’s required and bring my son back to California. I don’t even know if he remembers me.”

 

“He vaguely remembers you. Mrs. Tanner also left some pictures of the three of you with the letters.”

 

“Does he hate me? I mean, disappearing from a boy’s life must make him think I don’t care for him.”

 

“Mike is in a state of confusion. From what I gather, Mr. Tanner was not a very loving stepfather. And with his mother gone, I think he’ll welcome the safety of being with his real dad . . . stranger that you may be.”

 

“You better give me all the various addresses and telephone numbers I need. Also any documents I need to bring. I may not be able to be there until tomorrow evening.” He looked again at the picture of Mike and tried to imagine what he now looked like at age twelve. Yikes, he’s probably about ready to go through puberty. That can be a puzzlement for a young guy.

 

Eric busily wrote down all the contact information, list of documents needed, mentally tried to figure out some logistics to his trip and thought about what needed to be done at the restaurant. Probably need to beef up the hostess staff to help at the front door while I’m away.

 

Brian, now back in his black briefs, entered the kitchen. Eric nodded and directed his eyes to the coffee maker. He indicated by pointing where the cups were located and that Brian should pour two cups.

 

“Can I talk to Mike?” Eric felt his stomach churn slightly and felt perspiration on his upper lip and brow.

 

“Yes, definitely. Just remember, Mr. Flynn, that he has gone through a huge shock and it may take a while for him to warm up to you.”

 

“I understand.” Eric accepted the coffee and nodded for Brian to sit. “This is wild, Brian,” he said, cupping his hand over the phone. “Seems that my ex passed away last night and I’m now officially in the dad business. I . . .”

 

“ . . . Mr. Flynn, here’s your son.” Eric heard some voices in the background and shuffling.

 

“Um, Sir?” said a voice in a boy’s pubescent, cracking, changing register.

 

“Mike, hi. . .it’s been too long a time. I won’t ask you to call me dad if you don’t want to. How about calling me Eric?” He took a sip of coffee and raised his eyebrows to Brian.

 

“Oh, gee . . . um, I can call you Dad, I guess. Everything is so confusing. Why did Mom do that?” Mike started sniffling before he revved up to full sobs.

 

“Son, you don’t know how much I want to be there right now. Take a few deep breaths and let them out slowly.” Eric paused for a brief moment. “Okay?”

 

Eric felt Brian’s strong hands on his back.

 

“Yes, Sir.” Only heavy breathing was audible.

 

“Sounds like your mother was having a lot of problems. I’m really sorry that she could only deal with them in this way.” Eric was determined not to use the ‘S’ word. Brenda’s suicide is a difficult situation, at best, for a 12-year old. Probably more like devastating.

 

“Things . . . have been tough . . . umm . . . Sir . . . Dad.” Mike replied.

 

“We’re going to work it out when I get to Richmond. I have to fly out from California and I’ll be there tomorrow.” I gotta get there tomorrow morning, somehow.

 

“For sure?” Mike asked with a squeaky unsteady voice.

 

“Absolutely, for sure. I’m your father and I love you . . . always have. Not being able to see you hurt deeply, but it was’t my idea. I understand your mom left you a box of letters I wrote you several years ago?”

 

“Um, yeah. That’s what they told me.”

 

“When you feel better, I’d like for you to read them. I’m going to bring with me more letters that were returned.”

 

“I’d like that. Oh, Dad, please hurry . . . I . . . need you.”

 

Eric could hear sniffling again.

 

“Buddy, I’ll see you tomorrow, for sure. Just remember one thing, I love you…always have, always will.”

 

“I . . . love . . . Dad, hurry. Please?”

 

Eric could understand the hesitancy in his son making any commitment. “I will. Now please let me talk with Mrs. Tulliver again.”

 

“This sounds pretty heavy duty,” Brian said.

 

Eric nodded and they both sipped coffee in silence.

 

“Mr. Flynn, you seemed to have had a calming effect on the boy. He’s gone with his guardian. Just so you know, he’ll be staying in a county-sponsored house for pre-teen adolescents who are temporarily without care. I assure you that it’s a safe environment.”

 

“Thank you. I’ll contact you when I get a flight and a hotel reservation. The more I think of it, I’m going to take a red-eye flight tonight out of San Diego. Have Brenda’s parents been notified?” Eric grimaced at the thought of his bible thumping, right wing, former in-laws. He thought they were still living in Yuma, Arizona.

 

“They apparently passed away a couple of years ago.”

 

“Well, I’ll take care of funeral and other arrangements. She had a few aunts and uncles. Frankly, I don’t have any idea where they live.”

 

“And I’ll help arrange the paperwork with the city morgue for release of the remains. Once you’re legally Mike’s guardian, everything will fall into place.”

 

“Do I need a lawyer to handle her will or estate?” Eric knew that Brenda didn’t have much. She probably had even less at the end.

 

“I think that she left very little except for this precious boy. He seems to be very bright. . .and he’s handsome and very well mannered. I might add, from the pictures I saw, that he looks like his dad.”

 

“I’m anxious to see him . . . the last time was when he was four. Mrs. Tulliver, thank you for your assistance. I’ll see you tomorrow when I arrive. One favor. Would you make sure he gets the letters and pictures?”

 

“He has them now. Talk with you tomorrow. Bye.”

 

Eric said his farewell, punched off the phone and looked at his houseguest. He moved his hand over to Brian’s shoulder and pulled him close. The two men studied each other silently before Eric leaned in and kissed Brian lightly. More of a ‘good morning’ peck than anything else.

 

“Sounds like life for Eric Flynn just got a little more complicated?”

 

The softness of Brian’s voice calmed Eric with a moment of comfort. “Complicated isn’t the half of it. For openers, I’ve suddenly got a young mini-me to care for,” he said, pointing to his son’s picture. Eric gave Brian a complete rundown of the news and the tentative plans that were still formulating in his head.

 

“Sounds like what you’ve got in mind is more challenging than anything,” Brian said. “And I’m not just talking about the trip.”

 

“You think? Jeez, first I run into you and now I’m going to be a full-fledged dad. Talk about the difference 24 hours makes.”

 

“Tell me about the dad part,” Brian said. “I think I’m starting to understand the other thing. By the way, I could get used to morning coffee with a bare-assed buddy.” He chuckled and playfully jerked Eric’s soft dick.

 

“Oh, shit, I need to get pulled together. Got lots to do.”

 

They both rose and Brian followed Eric back to the bedroom. They passed the small bedroom and ended up in the master.

 

“So this is where the big people sleep?” Brian asked with a grin.

 

“This big ’un does.”

 

“Will I get a chance to try this bed out?” Brian asked with a leer.

 

“That could be arranged with a rain check.” Eric playfully swatted his friend’s firm butt. “Listen, let’s take a shower . . . a real shower . . . and go down to Denny’s for a little breakfast and conversation. It’s only seven, and I’ve got several calls to make in about an hour.” Eric turned and aggressively grabbed Brian, pulling him into a clinging hug. Is it possible that we could become boyfriends? Or was this just a one-night thing?

 

“Yeah, I could definitely get used to this for real.” Brian passionately attacked Eric’s lips with a full-blown tongue probe. They stayed glued together as both aggressively escalated the moment.

 

Eric knew that this was a man he wanted to know much better. “Let’s jump in my shower and get cleaned up. As much as I’d like to jump your bones, I’ve got to get moving.”

 

“There’s only one bone I’m interested in.” Brian could not take his eyes off of Eric’s aroused penis. He looked up and saw Eric’s expression of good-natured impatience.

 

“Rain check, babe,” Eric replied.

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll be good . . . for now.”

 

A smiling Eric dashed into the master bathroom, started the shower water and took a long-overdue pee. Brian followed and watched from the door.

 

“If you can be good to your word, jump in with me. This is going to be a real fast spritz.”

 

Eric opened the shower door and stepped in. Brian pulled off his briefs, joined him, and within moments each man was washing the other. Except for a few necessary passes at the genital and anal area, neither pursued the natural course of fondling action available to two gay men attracted to each other.

 

“That was the fastest shower on record,” Brian remarked as they toweled off their bodies.

 

“Rather than a rain check, how about a shower check?” And a fuck check, too.

 

“You’ve got it, daddy.”

 

Both guys erupted with laughter.

 

“Son, you get your clothes from the other room and get dressed. I’m putting on some fresh duds here.”

 

“Okay, I’ll meet you in the kitchen in five.” Brian put on his briefs and trotted out of the master.

 

Eric smiled as he watched Brian. Wow, I think I’m really falling for this guy. This ain’t a one-time thing. He realized that the room they’d ‘christened’ last night would now be his son’s room. Glad I got that fantasy thing out of the way.

 

_____

 

The Wrangler and Cherokee were parked side by side in front of Denny’s, and Eric and Brian were parked next to each other in a corner, round booth in the busy restaurant. They both ordered ‘Grand Slam’ breakfasts and quietly sat, observing the beehive of activity.

 

“So what’s the game plan?” Brian asked, breaking the silence.

 

Eric was weighing all the ramifications of the changes in his life and accepted the question as a kick back to reality. “Oh, sorry I phased out on you,” he answered with a melancholy smile. “Just prioritizing stuff. Getting away from work, getting airline and hotel reservations, and what I’m going to find back east. I’ve got to get everything handled and be back here with Mike by Sunday.”

 

“Anything I can do to help?”

 

“Naw, I’m covered on this. Probably next week will be the time for some major support. I gotta figure out how to handle this father-son stuff and how to explain me being gay. But right now I want to talk about what happened last night between you and me if you don’t mind?” Eric resisted the urge to grab Brian’s hand and hold it tightly.

 

“What happened was two guys meeting, feeling a mutual physical attraction and discovering later that the attraction was much deeper than just sex,” Brian said with a steady gaze into Eric’s eyes. “By the way, the sex was great.”

 

They both grinned at the memories.

 

“That’s what’s going through my mind, too,” Eric said with a wink. “How’d you end up so handsome and smart too?”

 

“Great minds think alike.” Brian paused for a moment and looked deeply into Eric’s eyes. “It’s way too early to be planning our next step, and you’re suddenly tied up with some pretty heavy-duty responsibilities. But I’m putting my bid in right now to explore what we might have together as really good friends. Is that okay?” He moved a little closer to Eric in the curved booth.

 

“I can get into the good friend concept. That’s a first step.”

 

Eric also scooted closer, until they were now almost shoulder-to-shoulder. The hot food arrived and the waitress smiled. She raised her eyebrow slightly but said nothing.

 

“Well, maybe the second step,” Brian said. “I’ve got a raw behind as a reminder of the first step.” They both laughed, almost spitting out their coffee.

 

“Touché.”

 

Eric poured syrup over his pancakes and Brian did the same. They dug into the plates of food with energy, taking bites from each food grouping. Eric thought about the previous evening’s sex and having been the aggressive one. Next time it’s my turn to bottom.

 

“Maybe we can get our combined tribes together for dinner as a welcoming party for Mike? I know my sister would love to meet you and your son, and show off my two nephews.”

 

“Great idea,” Eric replied. “Why don’t I make some dinner. . .maybe spaghetti and garlic bread. . .and have everyone up to my place next week? God knows I’ve got enough space for everyone. Would her boys like that?”

 

“Just make sure you use bite size pasta or the four-year old will create a real mess. They both love tomato sauce. By the way, your condo does seem to be very large.”

 

“Dad bought it real cheap forty years ago. It’s actually got four bedrooms, but I only use the master. I’ve kept my childhood room intact for sentimental reasons. I guess Mike will take that room and we can re-do it to match his taste . . . whatever they are. And I’ve kept the option open of finding the right guy to share my heart and home.” Eric felt warm and tingly verbalizing this admission.

 

“So, do you think Mike knows you’re gay?” Brian asked.

 

Eric was a little relieved that Brian changed the subject. “I can only guess what Brenda has said about me and I may have some de-programming to do. However, we split so long ago that maybe her bitterness softened? I don’t know. . .I was surprised about her admission in the note she left. Mike and I will have a real heart-to-heart talk when we get back here, for sure.”

 

They both continued eating and talking between bites. Schools, church, the ‘Y’, and the other activities that a 12-year old boy would need and enjoy were discussed. Knowing his ex-wife’s prudishness, Eric thought that a frank conversation about sex knowledge would need to be at the top of the list.

 

Brian paid the check and Eric promised to call with his schedule.

 

_____

 

 

After two stops and several red-eye hours later, Eric was ready to set the last part of his plan into motion. He took a long, overdue shower in the bathroom of the airport Hampton Inn on the outskirts of Richmond. The connecting room was reserved; he had every intention of starting a father-son relationship that night.

 

He had contacted Mrs. Tulliver at child services again as soon as he checked into the hotel at 9:30 a.m. It was agreed that he would meet her at eleven, do the necessary paperwork, then continue to the childcare facility to meet Mike. At her request, he had brought the birth certificates for both him and his son. She said that Mike could probably be released into Eric’s care later in the day.

 

He also planned on feeling out Mike concerning returning to the house to collect his belongings and any of Brenda’s effects that Mike wanted. Also for discussion was the decision on dealing with the body. Eric remembered Brenda’s wishes when they were first married; she wanted to be cremated and have her ashes taken out to the Pacific Ocean off Point Loma in San Diego. That was the location of Eric and Brenda’s first intimate moment. Best leave that detail unsaid.

 

At the appointed hour, Eric presented himself to the receptionist at the Henrico County Child Protective Services office and asked for Mrs. Tulliver. Moments later, a striking, older African American woman came out of the office and welcomed Eric to Richmond.

 

“Mr. Flynn, please join me in my office,” she said with a warm smile.

 

“Yes, Ma’am. I think I’ve got everything you requested.” They walked down a dingy, institutional hallway and entered a small, well-organized office. Eric was amazed at the number of files in her suspension rack.

 

“Okay, here’s the file. I don’t think the mother ever officially changed Mike’s name. Therefore, he’s still Eric Michael Flynn, Junior, in the county’s eyes,” she said, as they both sat down.

 

“Good, but I think I’ll continue to call him Mike Summers until he wants to change. Here are the two birth certificates you requested. I also have a copy of the marriage license, divorce decree and the joint-custody award from the court until Mike is 18. Funny, I almost threw them out this past spring.”

 

“I’ll make copies of all the documents. While I’m gone, you’re free to review his case file. The letter that Mrs. Tanner left has been released and is in the file.” She gave the thin file to Eric and left the office with the documents.

 

Eric quickly scanned the note. Most of the message focused on self-pity and that her life wasn’t worth ‘a plug nickel’ as she put it in a shaky scrawl on the notepaper. He came to the part concerning Mike and Eric’s current telephone number.

 

Finally, Eric read her instructions for cremation. Fuck, she did remember what we had discussed years ago. He started again and read in detail how she harshly judged the past six months of her life. Eric wondered how she could have married such a heel of a man. She had no idea where he had disappeared to and was down to her last $100.

 

Mrs. Tulliver returned with a patient smile.

 

“Everything seems to be in order. I’ve prepared the forms for releasing Mike to your care. As of 11:13, you are now officially and legally his father in this county and state. In addition, I’ve included a copy of the authorization for the city morgue to transfer Mrs. Tanner’s remains to a mortuary of your choice.”

 

“Thank you, M’am. I’ll take care of everything.”

 

“Are you ready to meet your son?”

 

“I’m more than ready. And please be assured that I’ll do my best to be a good father.” He took her extended hand and shook it.

 

“Of that I have no doubt. Good luck young man.”

 

Eric left the office with his copies of all the forms and a map with directions to the childcare facility. Fortunately, the address was not far away and easy to find.

 

He parked his rental Ford Fiesta and slowly approached a well-landscaped, one story building with no signage. Probably the county wanted to blend into the residential surroundings. Eric pushed the doorbell and waited. He felt a little lightheaded and queasy.

 

The door opened and a short, matronly woman appeared. She looked at him quizzically for a moment before quickly breaking into a grin.

 

“Hi. I’m . . .”

 

“ . . . Just by looking at you I know you’re Mike’s father. It’s Mr. Flynn. Right?”

 

“Exactly.” Eric was relieved but curious about her observation.

 

“The physical resemblance is uncanny. . .but you probably are aware of that.”

 

“The memory is fuzzy, but everyone always said that when he was really little. All I have at home are pictures up to age four.”

 

“Please come in. I’m Ms. Shaw. Mike’s in the dayroom reading. He seems to really enjoy going over those old letters rather than watching TV.”

 

Eric followed her into the reception room. “Nice to meet you. Mrs. Tulliver said that you would need a copy of the release form?” He retrieved the form in his document folder and handed it to her.

 

She quickly reviewed the form. “Yes, everything seems to be in order. I must tell you that Mike has been very polite but quiet. From what he has experienced, and now with you re-entering his life, don’t be surprised if he appears withdrawn for a while.”

 

“I’m prepared for that. Maybe a get-acquainted lunch will break the ice,” Eric replied with hesitation.

 

“Probably a good idea. If you’ll wait here, I’ll get your son.” Mrs. Shaw turned, walked down a short hall and entered an open doorway.

 

Okay, don’t blow it. Just let Mike take his time to adjust. His breathing started to get faster and his heart began pumping when he saw Mrs. Shaw come back into the hall. Behind her was a typical 12-year old with short-cut dark hair, maybe 5’8”, wearing jeans, T-shirt and sneakers. Upon closer inspection as they walked nearer, Eric noticed the piercing blue eyes that were doing a quick study of him.

 

“Mike?” he said. Mrs. Shaw and Mike approached Eric and stopped. Eric smiled and offered his hand for a shake. Jeez, he does look very similar to me at that age. His son was definitely in the transition from boy to young man, Eric thought as he studied Mike’s trim physique and large feet that were out of proportion to the rest of his body. If Flynn genes were in play, he knew that Mike was primed for a growth spurt very soon.

 

“You’re my real father?” Mike asked. He grabbed Eric’s hand and held it very firmly.

 

“Yes, Mike. I’m your father. Your real dad.” Eric shook the smaller hand and raised his eyebrows. For a moment, Mike seemed unsure of what to do. They voluntarily released each other’s hands and Eric gestured with open arms.

 

“Hi.” Mike walked into Eric’s arms and wrapped his dad into a crushing hug. He sighed, buried his head into Eric’s chest and started crying. Eric reached around to balance the hug.

 

“Hi, Son. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” Eric trembled and broke into slow tears.