1968 - 2. Chapter 2

December 23, 1967

There were times in the past where visits home to Claremont had been rife with conflict and trauma, but now that I'd become an older family man, those problems seemed a thing of the past. Now, it was a time for me to spend with my parents, my family, and my friends, those that were left.

My parents had put an addition on to their already sprawling house solely to house their grandchildren. That meant that when we came to visit, Isidore and I had our own rooms, while the kids were in their own little world with Betty. My parents had a black couple that lived in a house next to theirs, Abe and Vella, and they were like a second family to me. Betty was Vella's cousin, completing the family affair. Vella did housekeeping and cooking for my parents, while Abe took care of the yard and the cars. But with the kids there, Vella was usually around them, playing with them and trying to stuff food in their mouths.

My mother, smooth, elegant, and classy, an older version of Isidore, always seemed aloof, above any problem or controversy. My father, the ultimate businessman, had to force himself to relax. He and my brother Jim had spearheaded the phenomenal growth of Crampton Construction, making it one of the largest construction companies in the country.

When I was growing up, there were three super-wealthy families in Claremont. The Cramptons, the Schluters, and the Hendricksons. Over the past five years, our family had eclipsed the others in wealth, not that the others were chump change. The Schluters still owned all kinds of land in and around Claremont, while Bill Hendrickson still owned the mill that was the main fuel for Claremont's economy. Of course, no one was crass enough to compare balance sheets; it was just a subtle acknowledgment.

I woke up in the morning and found my father in his study. I smiled when I thought about how our relationship had evolved over the years. When I had told him I was gay, we'd had some rocky roads, but our relationship was solid now. This was evident in the greeting and hug that he gave me.

“JP! Come in, sit down! I'm so glad you're home!”

“Thanks Dad. It's been a rough month, so it's nice to be here.” I'd already told my parents about Jeff, and they'd been as devastated as I was. I filled my father in on the events at Northwestern.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked. He meant, “Can I use my money and political contacts to get you out of this problem?”

“Actually Dad, there may be.” He looked at me, willing me to continue. “I'm talking to Stanford University. They seem to want me.”

“That's in California,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Yes it is. And it's a great step for me. The problem is Isidore. She likes working for your company.” I paused, waiting for him to ponder that.

“She does a good job. The branch managers have raved about her.”

“That's because she's made them successful. I want to give her a chance to manage things on her own. To take the B.M. position.” He looked at me dubiously.

“I don't know if she has the experience for that JP,” he said cautiously.

“Pardon me for being crude Dad, but the only thing she lacks is a penis. If she were a man, she'd already be in that job.”

“Are you trying to say that I'm a chauvinist?” he asked, irritated.

I laughed. “No Dad, you're a gem. You're always in the forefront of civil rights. I'm not saying you're behind the times, but I am saying that I think you could set a new trend here, showing that a woman is capable of doing the B.M. job.” He calmed down.

“We don't really have any inroads in the California marketplace. We've been looking to maybe acquire a firm out there, or start from scratch, but haven't put anything in place yet.”

“I'd be willing to put up some of my own money if you'd give her a chance,” I offered. That seemed to have a big impact on him.

“You must really be confident in her abilities,” he said.

“Yep.” I said simply.

“Let me talk to Jim about it. I'm working to pass more and more of the responsibilities over to him. We'll talk about it, and then I'll chat with Isidore.” In other words, I had made my pitch, but now I was out of the loop.

“Thanks Dad. All I wanted was for you to consider it.”

We had a great dinner, but I was bored afterwards. I had spent a lot of time with the family and I needed a break, so I headed down to Dino's, the local bar where I knew that any friends that I still had in town would be. I drove the Corvette I'd bought my parents years ago. It was much more fun than the hulking Fleetwood.

Almost as soon as I got there I ran into Frank Hayes, Jeff's brother. “Hey JP, you're stag tonight!” he said as he gave me a hug. “Where's my baby brother?”

“He's not doing too well Frank,” I said.

“What happened?” Frank was concerned. Both he and Jeff had all but disowned their worthless family, their abusive father and his enabling shrew of a wife.

“He got involved in the anti-war protest movement, with the hippies, and got into the drug scene.” Frank looked horrified and mad. I held up my hand, asking him to let me finish. “At first, I just bailed him out of jail and helped him dry out. But it got worse and worse. He sold his car to buy drugs, and refused to stay in rehab. Last time he got hauled in, he was a mess.”

“So what did you do?”

“I had him committed. He's in a hospital, and they're trying to help him get better. He's more of a zombie than anything right now, but I've seen some progress.”

Frank spluttered. “You mean he's in a loony bin?!”

“They wanted to send him to the state hospital, but I intervened and he's at a private hospital. I won't let them do shock therapy or anything like that, but they are going to try some of those new drugs that make you happier. I'm really sorry Frank. This is killing me.”

He studied me carefully. I'd never told him that Jeff and I were gay lovers, or partners, and I don't know how much of that he knew or assumed. He seemed to relent. “I know you care about him JP. I know that you'll watch out for him, and do whatever you can. It just rips me up. He's the only one of us with any potential.”

“That's bullshit Frank. I hear what goes on around here. I know you've been doing well at the mill, and heard you even moved over to the west side. Seems you've done pretty well too.”

“Thanks JP,” he said with a grin. “I gotta run. Here's my phone number. Call me and tell me how he's doing, OK?”

“Sure thing, Frank,” I said, taking the scrap of paper. I ripped it in half and gave him my number. “You probably already have this, but here it is again, just in case. You know Frank, if you want to come visit, we have plenty of room for you to stay.” And with that he ambled off, a walk almost exactly like his brother's.

December 25, 1967

Christmas was a blast. First of all, there were the kids and the whole Santa thing. Of course, that meant getting up early, but it was worth it to see the look on their faces when they saw the tree stuffed full of presents. And it was even funnier to see old Abe, grumbling, come over in his pajamas and robe to watch them open the gifts, along with Vella, who was dressed and chipper, already starting dinner.

Around 2PM, guests started arriving. It had become a tradition that we invited our “extended family” to Christmas dinner, and that had really grown over the years. In addition to our family, my uncle, Barry and my aunt, Gail “Tonto” Schluter were there, along with Stefan. They brought their daughter-in-law Janice, widow of my cousin and childhood friend Billy, and their three kids. Of course my brother and his wife (a Hendrickson) were there with their kids as well.

Last year we'd invited Frank Hayes and his family up, and they came again this year. I was glad he was there because he'd really turned into a good guy, and his wife and kids were nice too. I think he felt weird being there when Jeff wasn't, but my mother and Isidore both turned on their incredible charm to make them feel welcome. Plus it gave him a chance to rub shoulders with the big boss, Bill Hendrickson.

Bill Hendrickson. That was such a weird situation. I'd found out that he was my biological father, and after that he'd guessed that I knew. So out of that weirdness he and I had developed a pretty nice relationship. Fortunately my father didn't know that we weren't genetically linked, a secret I vowed to take to the grave.

Last to arrive was my former T.A., Jason Strubbe. Jason had finally seemed to find some emotional stability in his life. He'd ended up marrying his fling, Vivienne, and he'd taken a job as a history teacher at Claremont High. I'd seen Jason fall into the depths of despair, and to see him here with Vivienne, happy and secure, with a new baby daughter, brightened my whole world. I managed to corner him and update him on all of the events at Northwestern. As an alumnus, he seemed saddened at the new direction. So was I.

The one notable absence was Sammy, Abe and Vella's son. Vella wouldn't talk about it but I knew it ripped her up. Sammy was at Columbia University in New York. I knew that because I paid for his tuition every year, but he spent more time on the civil rights movement than his studies. He'd adopted the Black Power movement, and Vella wouldn't admit it, but we all suspected that he'd joined the Black Panthers. It was hard to picture Sammy as a hard core Black militant. I missed seeing him, even though I was reminded of him often. He was a talented artist, and I had several of his paintings in my condo and office.

Dinner was a blast, a festive time to put all of our troubles to the side. Still, I couldn't help but worrying about Janice. She hadn't been right since Billy died in 1963, and her kids seemed to sense it. They were nice enough, but dysfunctional. I was most worried about Brad, their youngest, who was about the same age as Ace. Brad wasn't Billy's natural son; Janice had an affair while he was at sea. Billy had asked me with special earnestness to keep an eye on Brad, and looking at him, I felt like I wasn't doing my job. He didn't play with the other kids; he sat to the side by himself. The only one who could bring him out of his shell was Ace.

I cornered my formidable aunt to ask her about him. “Tonto, what's with Janice? She still seems dead to the world.”

Tonto looked at me somberly. “She is JP. We keep hoping she'll snap out of it. She's gone to psychiatrists and has had some shock therapy. That just seemed to hollow her out.”

I looked at her, horrified, but I didn't share my concerns about it. Why cry over spilt milk? “So you're raising the kids?”

“Pretty much. I'm doing the best I can, and Sally has been wonderful. The kids sense Janice's distress, though, and it weighs on them. I hate to say it, but I almost think they'd be better off is she wasn't around much.”

I just stared at her. She went on. “Don't think I'm a bad person JP. I dearly love her. But after the kids spend time with her, they seem a lot worse.”

“I'm not judging you Tonto. If anyone can pull them together, you can. Brad seems to be the worse.”

“He is. Janice almost totally ignores him and the other kids do too. It's really sad, and my heart goes out to him.”

“Maybe he could come out and spend the summer with us?” I offered. “I don't know where we'll be, but wherever it is, I'm sure he'd have fun. Ace seems to be the only one he bonds with.”

“Well, that's an idea. Let's see how the next few months evolve.”

December 28, 1967

We were in the Fleetwood lumbering back to Chicago. I knew we didn't stay long, and I felt bad about that, but the longer I was in Claremont, the more I thought about Jeff. I had this feeling that he needed me, I don't know, call it psychic. Besides, Isidore had planned a big New Year's Eve extravaganza. It was the same as the trip there. “I have to go potty.” “Billy took my toy.” “Ace hit me.” I had a massive headache by the time we got home. I went into my room, closed the door, and took a few hits on a joint. Now, calmer and more relaxed, I went back and tried to be a good Daddy.

Maybe it was because I was 32, but my libido had calmed down to the point where I didn't have to fuck around with someone every few days to stay sane. Still, I missed the contact of having someone in bed with me. I realized that Jeff had abandoned me months ago, so unless Stefan decided to come up and fuck around, I was pretty lonely. I chided myself for being an enigma. A private person who desperately wants love and affection.

I heard a knock on my door and got up to open it. Stefan wasn't home, so I wasn't sure who it would be. It was Isidore.

“Hi JP. Mind if I come in and chat?” I smiled at her and gave her a gentle kiss.

“I'd love your company.” I re-lit the joint and handed it to her. She took a few tokes, then I took another, and in no time we'd gone from a pleasant buzz to really stoned. We sat on the bed and giggled with each other.

“Your father told me they'd be willing to help me start an office in California. You did a nice job of convincing me to move.”

I laughed. “We're supposed to go out there on the 3rd. It will be fun, just the two of us.”

“Yes it will,” she said, and snuggled up next to me. With Jeff, or Stefan, or any other guy, when they lay on me their bodies were firm and hard. Isidore was soft and comfortable. I found that I really liked it. That and she didn't excite me, so I could lie there and cuddle with her without getting a raging hard-on.

It dawned on me that I didn't need sex like I used to, I needed the companionship, and here in front of me was my solution. Isidore was my wife, and I decided that we could be intimate and asexual at the same time.

December 29, 1967

The drive to the hospital was really easy today, primarily since I'd gone before the evening rush hour. The doctor was there, waiting to see me.

“We've seen some really good progress with the drugs. He's going to want to go home, but he's not ready yet. I want to prepare you for that, OK?”

“When do you think he may be ready?” I asked.

“When he doesn't crave drugs anymore. He'll tell you he doesn't, but the counselor has been evaluating him and if he leaves now, in her opinion, there's a 90% chance he'll relapse.” I nodded. This is what had happened before. We'd gotten him to the point where he seemed OK, and then let him out too soon.

“He's been moved to a more relaxed environment. There's still security so he can’t' get out, but beyond that his movements are less restricted.”

“Can I stay with him?” I asked.

“You mean overnight?”

“Yeah. Can I stay with him overnight?” The doctor looked confused. I just stared at him.

“If you want, I can make a note in his chart to that effect.”

“Thank you doctor,” I said politely, and headed to Jeff's room.

I peeked into his room and saw Jeff sitting there looking anxious. I knocked gently and pushed open the door. He saw me and smiled, a huge smile, and rushed forward to give me a hug.

“JP! God it's good to see you! I missed you so much!” He picked me up and spun me around, making me feel like a rag doll. When he put me down, he planted his lips on mine. I knew the routine. He was going to try and charm me into getting him out. I knew him too well, and I could tell that his kiss wasn't entirely sincere. He was trying to play me.

“It's good to see you too,” I said cheerfully.

“I'm ready to go home. All I need to do is check out and we can leave.”

“You can't leave yet,” I said, and watched his face drop to the floor.

“Why not? I'm fine now. I'm well.” He was trying to be persuasive, but I think even he knew that wasn't true.

“No, you're not. If you leave now, the first thing you'll do is go find your buddies on campus and shoot up. You know it and I know it.” I was forcing myself to be firm; I hope he didn't realize how fragile I was.

“No I won't,” he continued. “I won't do that again. I'm done with drugs.”

“Jeff, you say that now just like you said that before. Last time you'd been in the hospital for the same amount of time as this time. It was too soon. The day after you were out you vanished into that subculture and I didn't see you until you landed in jail again.”

“Fuck you! I know me. You don't know me. I don't want to be here. You can't make me stay here!” He was trying rage. Good. That definitely wouldn't work.

“As a matter of fact, neither one of us has a choice. You're here until the hospital says you can leave and a court sanctions it.” That threw him for a loop. He thought it was just me he had to convince.

“That's bullshit. Call the lawyer. Get me out of here.” He seemed violent.

I looked at him coolly. He didn't scare me. Even when he was wigging out, he didn't scare me. I knew there was a part of him, no matter how deep it was buried, that would never let him hurt me. “No.”

He was about to rant and rave when I stopped him. “Jeff, this is your last chance. You need to understand that. I've pulled every string that I can, and there aren't any left. You leave here and go back to that scene; your next stop is jail, and then the state asylum.” He stared at me, stunned. I let that sink in, and then I continued. “They wanted to try shock therapy on you here and I stopped them. I won't be able to do that at the asylum. They'll zap your brain until you're a zombie, and if they don't get the results they want, they may just try to chop some of it off.”

“They can't do that to me! Don't let them JP!” He was terrified now.

“Understand this Jeff. I love you. If I didn't, we wouldn't have made it this far. But this is the end of the line. You blow it this time, you're on your own. Not because I don't love you, not because I don't care, but because I won't have any choices left. It will be out of my hands.” He just stared at me.

“You have three children and a family who want you home. And you have a lover who misses you desperately. This is it. Snap out of this now, or you lose it all. That's why I'm not going to ask them to release you, and that's why they're not letting you out. Think about it. You don't even ask me about Isidore, or Ace, or Billy, or Claire. You don't care about them. You just want to pop a pill or shoot some heroin in your veins. When that changes, then you can come home.” He put his head in his hands and said nothing.

“Meanwhile, I took the liberty of calling in some favors on campus. I brought your books and work from last semester. You've gotten incompletes. So here's the deal. You finish these up, plus there's an independent study class on Eastern Religions in there, and you get your diploma. So you have something productive to do.” I put the backpack on the nightstand. He still said nothing.

“You want me to leave?” I asked. I felt unwelcome, and his emotional instability was flowing into me. I felt his good thoughts, and bad.

He reached his hand over and held mine. “No JP. Please stay.” There were tears running down his face. I lay down with him like before, with his head on my chest. He cried softly and I stroked his hair. I love his hair; it's so soft and full. There was a clock on the wall, and we had lain like that for an hour when he looked up at me. Our eyes met and the sparks flew, the connection was made.

“JP, you're right. I'm not ready to go home yet. I can beat this; I know I can, if you help me. Will you come see me more often? I know you're busy, but I need you so much.” I kissed his lips gently, feeling the spark and the emotion that we once had. That was no bullshit kiss. He meant that one. It had been so long since we'd connected like that. It was magical.

“I'll be here as much as I can. I promise.” He smiled. Then frowned.

“When do you have to leave, tonight I mean?”

“It's only 3pm. But I got approval to spend the night.” He beamed, a big smile. Then I saw that mischievous grin of his. “Wanna get naked?”

I giggled like a girl. “Yeah, I do.” We stripped off our clothes here in the heart of the mental hospital. We met in bed under the covers, and the feeling of his body against mind was amazing. Then he got really sad. His dick was limp.

“The medicine you're on makes your dick limp,” I said, even though I wasn't sure. “It's not you stud.”

Then he got a really wicked grin and turned away from me. “Yeah, but yours is working just fine. C'mon JP, fuck me.” I grabbed the lotion from the side of the bed and greased my dick and his hole. I moved up behind him and whispered in his ear.

“You want to feel me inside you? You want to feel my dick sliding in and out of your ass?” He moaned and thrust back at me. “Yes, yes, yes!” I pushed forward, lining myself up with his hole, and pushed harder. I slid right in. No resistance at all. He moaned and thrust back into me and I proceeded to make love to him, putting all the troubling thoughts from my mind. His dick never did get hard, but he ejaculated anyway, blasting all over the sheets and covers. It must have been a long time since he'd blown a wad. It was for me too.

He rolled over and lay on my chest again. He looked up at me. “You're wondering how many guys fucked me aren't you?” he asked.

I smiled at him. “You're reading my mind again.” I knew he'd been active. I'd always had to approach him with care before, work slowly into him. This time he'd been as loose as, well, as loose as me.

“A lot JP. A lot. I'm sorry baby. I'm such a shit head.” I hid the pain, but he knew it was there.

“Jeff, if we're going to move beyond this, we're going to have to forgive each other and move on, OK? Besides, some of those hippie guys you were hanging around with were cute, or at least they would have been if they showered.”

He giggled. “I didn't let them fuck me because they were cute. I let them fuck me because they'd get me high.” Somehow, that made it better.

I pulled his face up so our eyes met. “I forgive you Jeff.” He kissed me again and then fell asleep on my chest.

December 30, 1967

Sometime during the night we'd shifted spots, so I was lying on his chest. I loved lying here on his chest, feeling his soft skin and his soft layer of fat covering his strong muscles. I woke up with a raging hard on. This boy had always had the ability to fire me up. I ran my hand down his chest and down his stomach to his groin. There I found his cock, hard as a rock. I grabbed the lube and slathered it on him and then I got on top of him and mounted him, feeling his dick slide smoothly into my ass. I began to move up and down, undulating my body so he rubbed against my magic spot, my prostate. His eyes opened slowly and he got a big smile on his face. Then in no time at all, we both came. I collapsed on top of him afterwards, squishing my cum in between us as I snuggled up to him.

“Seems that thing still works after all,” he said. I giggled.

“Yep.”

I got cleaned up and left, feeling horrible about leaving him alone. The doctor on duty intercepted me. “I'm not sure that sexual contact is a good thing for Mr. Hayes at this point,” he said.

“He seems fine to me. Would you feel that way if I was a woman?” I countered.

“That's different,” he opined.

“No, it's not. I'd like to speak with the administrator.” He took me sheepishly to the hospital administrator’s office.

“I don't want this doctor dealing with Mr. Hayes,” I said firmly.

“Is there a problem?” the administrator asked, irrelevantly.

“Yes, there is. Mr. Hayes is my partner, and this doctor is homophobic. I won't have him involved in Mr. Hayes' care.” The doctor blanched.

“Dr. Crampton, we can't coordinate our doctors based on the whims of the patients.”

“Then I will find a different hospital that does. In the meantime, this doctor is to stay away from Mr. Hayes. I'll have my attorney call to formalize that.” I nodded at both of them and walked out. It dawned on me that that's the first time I'd told someone that I wasn't fucking, or wasn't a family member, that I was gay. It felt somewhat liberating, and not a little scary.

As I was leaving, I got nervous. What if they tried to do something to Jeff while I was gone? What if these people were nut cases that thought they should try to cure him of his homosexuality at the same time? I turned around and headed back into the hospital. I stopped to use the phone and called Stefan. Then I headed back to Jeff's room.

“Dr. Crampton, visiting hours are over,” said the asshole doctor.

“I'm not leaving. I don't trust you, so I'm not leaving him unattended.” A few minutes later the administrator arrived and I gave her the same response.

“Dr. Crampton, I'd hate to have to have you removed,” she said menacingly.

“Yes you would.” I replied. While they were dinging around, trying to figure out what to do, Stefan showed up, followed shortly thereafter by Aaron. That certainly loosened their attitude considerably. In the end, they conceded to allow someone to stay with Jeff at all times until we could find a more suitable place for him.

I left Stefan with Jeff and was about to begin a frantic search for a new location when Jeff's original doctor cornered me. “Dr. Crampton, I heard what happened and I'm truly sorry and not a little embarrassed. This is the name of a terrific hospital, located not far from you in Evanston. I've written down the name of the person you should contact.” I shook his hand and thanked him. By that evening, I'd managed to move Jeff to the new place that was only a couple of miles from home. He had his own room, a nice view, and the staff seemed great. And they didn't care if I spent the night or not.

January 1, 1968

Isidore had thrown a great party last night. It was like a who's who of Chicago elite, although not everyone stayed for the entire time. There was the usual crowd of “really important people” who could only make an appearance. I was impressed with her versatility on topics, and her grace as a hostess.

My head hurt from drinking too much, but I pulled out a joint and took a quick hit or two. Stefan woke up next to me and smiled, and I passed the joint to him. So in a few seconds our hangovers were gone. He lay there sprawled out on his stomach. He had an amazing body, not like Jeff with his muscles, but smooth and lithe. His smooth skin narrowed to his trim waist, and then expanded out to his cute ass, dusted lightly with his strawberry blond hair and punctuated by his two cute ass dimples. I moved on top of him and buried my face in his crack, which made him laugh at first and then moan as my tongue went to work. I worked him manically until he begged me to fuck him, and then we moved together in perfect harmony until we exploded in my first orgasm of the new year.

We showered together and ate breakfast, then headed over to see Jeff. I really liked the new hospital. It was so close to home, and so easy to deal with. When I got to Jeff's room, I peeked in and saw someone else in there. I smelled him first. It was one of Jeff's hippie “friends”. I whispered to Stefan to go get the cop on duty, while I watched the interplay.

“C'mon Jeff, I brought you a present, now give me what I want,” the guy was crooning, rubbing his cock. “You know you want this 8 ball.” I watched Jeff's eyes. He was looking at the bag almost lustfully, but still he held himself back. I felt the cop at my side and the three of us burst into the room.

“Hey man, what's the deal?” the hippie said. He tried to drop the drugs on the floor but the cop picked it up and sniffed it. “PCP,” he said, and cuffed the hippie and read him his rights.

I stopped them on their way out. “You'll be doing jail time for this, scum bag. You tell your friends that Jeff Hayes is off limits. I catch anyone of you around him, you'll rot in prison, got it?” My venom and hate seemed to get through. It sure scared Jeff and Stefan.

Jeff looked at me, terrified. “JP, I didn't do anything. He just came in here. See, look at my arms. I didn't shoot up.” I walked up to him and kissed him then pulled him into a hug.

“I know baby, I saw. I'm so proud of you. I watched you resist him; I saw how hard it was. You're making such good progress.” He looked at me amazed, and then smiled. He forgot that I could actually be fair. “Now for your next test. I'm going to leave you here with Stefan and see if you can avoid fucking him.” They both giggled and I headed to the front desk.

The administrator came out to greet me, horrified at what happened. “I need to make sure that asshole ends up in jail. I've got to make some phone calls. I want to keep tighter security for Mr. Hayes. If you'll give me a piece of paper, I'll make a list of those people who are allowed to see him.” She smiled, glad that I wasn't going to ream her a new asshole. I listed myself, Aaron, Stefan, and Isidore.

Then I made a quick phone call to my friends at the police station. It may seem odd that a rabble rouser like me would have a good relationship with the cops. The reason for that is that I always stressed non-violent protests, not riots, and my papers were thought-provoking, not incendiary. In fact, I'd even taken the time to explain the last one to the cops in a brief seminar. This hippie was toast.

I came back to find Stefan sitting on Jeff's lap and I just started cracking up. That was typical Stefan, the court jester, always making us laugh. They both sat on Jeff's bed while I took the chair. “I need to talk to you two about something.” I was serious and they knew it. They paid attention. “We may be moving to California, in fact, there's a pretty good chance we will.”

Jeff spoke first. “We?”

“Yeah we, you dumb shit. As long as you get better, you're coming with us. Even if you don't want to. You my little slut,” I said, turning to Stefan, “have a choice. Ever thought about chasing beach boys around?”

“I'm not sure.” Stefan was footloose and fancy free, but he wasn't really all that impulsive when it came to serious shit. “Where in California?”

“Palo Alto. Stanford. San Francisco Bay Area.”

“Frisco?” Jeff said.

I rolled my eyes. “You don't call it Frisco. Or San Fran. You call it 'The City' or San Francisco.”

“Well excuse me,” said Jeff with a grin. It was so good to see him smile.

“Isidore and I are going out there day after tomorrow. I'll probably be gone for a week. Stefan promised to check in on you, and he even has my permission to take care of your carnal needs.” That made Jeff and Stefan both giggle, although Jeff looked sad that I'd be gone that long.

“I wish I could go with you,” he said.

“I do too. But get well, finish your classes, and you can traipse around the country with me next semester when I do my lectures. Stefan's coming too.” They'd be a blast to take on the road.

“Damn right I'm coming,” said Stefan. “And coming, and coming, and coming...” We all cracked up, laughing our asses off. Not what you'd expect to hear in the mental ward of a hospital.