1968 - 6. Chapter 6

February 14, 1968

I woke up with a huge smile on my face. The three of us, Sam, Isidore, and I, were sprawled on the bed after a night of intense lovemaking. I hadn't had sex with Isidore for a long time. It just wasn't part of our relationship. But last night necessity had put us all together in the only bed in the house.

Sam had snuggled up behind me while I was lying next to Isidore. He got frisky and started rubbing against my ass. Isidore reached down and grabbed my erection, and before I knew it, I was making love to her while Sam penetrated me. I came like a volcano.

But Sam is a dynamo, and that wasn't enough for him. He ended up next to Isidore and gently played with her breasts, looking to me for approval. I smiled at him and he showed me his considerable skills with women. I wasn't jealous; I was turned on, watching him play her body like a flute, pushing all her buttons. Finally he mounted her, forcing his monster dick in her. Her eyes bulged and I giggled at her. I watched Sam's cute muscular ass move up and down as he fucked her, and I couldn't resist. I moved in behind him and dove into his crack. His ass was hairy, with curly hair, but the smell of his pheromones was one intoxicating cocktail. I licked and probed his hole while he worked Isidore. He rewarded my efforts by periodically thrusting purposely back into my mouth.

I'd never tried to penetrate his ass. It had always seemed off limits, but now, with him this keyed up, I decided to try. I lubed up my index finger and gently probed his hole.

“Hey hey hey,” he said in alarm. “What's going on back there?”

I laughed. “Do you trust me?” He turned around and looked at me and I just winked at him. I guess he figured that he could take any pain I could throw his way. I continued my probe and felt him tense up, slowly, ever so slowly, he relaxed. He continued to fuck Isidore until he was loose enough for me to move my finger around. I only moved slightly, being very careful, and moved my finger toward his prostate. I found it, and allowed my finger to gently graze against it.

Sam froze up and tightened his ass and I giggled. I'd hit it. I left my finger in one place and let him control the strokes, pulling out of Isidore let him decide how and where to hit my finger. He went wild. Soon he had turned into a complete animal and was fucking her hard. I smiled as I saw her head flail back and forth as she entered into one long continual orgasm. Then he came. I felt his ass grab my finger so tight it almost hurt, and then he let out a growl that would have scared a lion. After he came, he rolled off of Isidore, who was still lying there panting and flailing, while I entered her to prolong her pleasure. Sam returned the favor I'd just done for him, and in no time at all I blasted inside Isidore too.

This morning, as I looked at the two of them, I pondered each of them and their beauty. Isidore, aging so gracefully, still a slim, attractive woman. Sam, a young, hot stud. Why would I ever want to get out of bed?

They woke up almost at the same time. Sam smiled at me. “Damn, that was one amazing night.” Isidore grinned and blushed.

I kissed her on the forehead. “Can we keep him dear?” I asked, and she started laughing.

“Absolutely.”

Isidore took the Cadillac and went on a shopping spree. There were a lot of rooms to furnish. I was glad she was taking charge. In the past, I'd had to do the decorating, and while I do have excellent taste, all modesty aside, Isidore does an even better job. Sam drove me to campus. On my desk was the Stanford weekly newspaper. The headline read: Northwestern's loss is Stanford's gain, and there was a glowing story about me and my confrontation with the powers that be at Northwestern and the campus protesters. If they saw this at Northwestern there would be some hand wringing. I smiled.

I had just started to dig into the latest news when Dr. Falstead came strolling in. I noticed that the environment was much more casual here, people used first names and usually left their doors open. I liked it.

“Morning JP,” he said cheerfully.

“Morning Dave,” I responded. I had to remember to use his first name. What a switch from Peterson. I don't even think I know his first name.

“I've got a favor to ask,” he said.

“Sure. What can I do for you?”

“I want to transfer the American History class to Francis and have you pick up another section on your History of Vietnam course.” He was smiling.

“How does Francis feel about that?” I asked. Professors were usually intensely irritated when they had to pick up someone else's class.

“I cut a deal with her, so don't worry about it. Pre-registration for your fall class is already full, and the second section is half-full. You have the most popular course on campus. The request to expand it came from the registrar by way of the Chancellor.”

“Well then,” I said, “I'd be happy to do that. It will be a lot of fun, but a lot of work. I hope the students realize that.”

“This is Stanford JP. They're always up for a challenge.” He grinned and left.

Sam stopped by to pick me up at the end of the day. “Hey there boss. How's it going?” I smiled at him. He always made me smile.

“I'm not your boss yet,” I said. “We lost our American History class next semester.” He looked worried. If I didn't keep up my teaching load he'd lose his job. I let him stew for a minute then I gave him a big grin. “They asked me to add another section of the class on Vietnam. First one is already full.”

“Already? Pre-registration just started.”

“Yep, already.” I looked at him and his sexy form. He had the ability to fire up my libido like crazy. “Can you take me home?”

He grinned, reading my mind. “Yeah, but I have to work in two hours.”

“Well, you better drive fast then.”

Isidore and I had dinner together that night and she filled me in on all the progress she'd made. It was impressive. Her biggest focus seemed to be on getting beds for everyone.

“I have to go back to Chicago tomorrow JP,” she said.

I was genuinely sad and disappointed. “But you just got here. Can't you stay longer?”

She smiled at me. “I have a big event on Friday. Want me to come back this weekend?”

“That would be terrific!” I said. Now that was good news, not just because she was coming back, but because she seemed to really like it here.

February 17, 1968

It had seemed ridiculous to me that Isidore flew all the way back to Chicago to host a party, only to turn around and come back the next day. Her flight left early, so she'd be exhausted. I didn't plan anything that evening, hoping that I could just get her to relax and take it easy. Sometimes she pushed herself too hard. While she was gone they'd delivered the furniture she'd bought. Damn she'd gotten a lot, yet Escorial seemed to absorb it without even noticing.

She had flown into San Francisco this time, another scheduling issue, so I waited at the gate, watching the jet way intently, and waiting for her to appear. But the first person I saw wasn't Isidore, it was Ace. My joy knew no bounds. She'd brought the kids back with her.

“Daddy!” he yelled and ran past the man in front of him to get to me. I hugged him, only to be mobbed by Claire and Billy right afterwards. I was so absorbed in the kids I didn't see Betty standing there with her normal severe look.

“I sure hope this new place is nice. I'd hate to have to get in that flying metal can for nothing,” she said with mock disapproval. I gave her a hug and saw her try to stop from smiling. And then, there with Isidore, with another great surprise.

“Stefan!” He gave me a big hug too. I was just overwhelmed, so much so that I couldn't hide my emotions, and that was a very rare thing. I almost expected to see Jeff come off the plane after them, but he didn't. I found myself unsure as to whether I was happy or sad that he wasn't here.

Isidore had arranged for a rental car so we divided up into two groups. I got Stefan and the kids, while Isidore got Betty and the luggage. I thought that division was pretty funny, but I held my tongue. The kids sat in the back seat and argued until we made it to Palo Alto and got off the freeway. It was a beautiful day, a rare warm streak had come through, and so I put the top down. Claire squealed in delight and the boys laughed. When we got to the house, Stefan's eyes bulged.

“Did you have them move Versailles here?” he asked.

“No, but I got the coolest place I could just to tempt you to move out here.” He grinned at me.

The kids wasted no time ripping through the house. In less than an hour we had them playing in the pool, giving Isidore and Betty a chance to unpack and get organized. We were splashing around when Sam appeared, looking incredibly hot in his bathing suit. Stefan was gawking until I smacked him.

“Hey guys,” I said to the kids. “This is Sam.” Sam did a cannonball into the pool and made them all laugh. He swam up to Ace first.

“Hi. I'm Ace,” he said confidently and Stefan and I snickered. Billy was the shyest, while Claire almost flirted with him. I grimaced. She was going to be a real challenge when she hit the teen years. So the three of us played with the kids until we were waterlogged. It was a great opportunity to see Sam with them. He really did great, especially with Billy. Once Billy got over his shyness, they really bonded.

Sam had to work, so Stefan and I took that opportunity to head to the grocery store, armed with a prodigious list Betty and Isidore had put together for us.

“You and Sam seem to be doing well,” Stefan observed.

“He makes me happy. He's nice, he's smart, and he's a great lover. Almost as good as you,” I said, flirting with Stefan.

“Well that is saying something,” Stefan shot back cockily. “You going to ask me about Jeff?”

“Why, is there some new development I should know about?” I know I sounded bitter, and I still was.

“He's doing pretty well. They say he'll be out within the next month or so.”

“Great,” I said. “That will sure save me some money.” I knew that was cold and mean, and I regretted it as soon as I said it.

Stefan eyed me coldly. “Do you still love him?”

“That's hard to answer. I feel really used, and rejected, and shunned. Until I dig out of that, I won't know how I feel.”

“What would you say if I told you I was in love with him?” Stefan asked. I stopped pushing the cart and just stared at him.

“Are you?” I had prepared myself for everything, or so I thought. But this came out of left field and hit me like a bolt of lightning.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Does he love you?” I asked.

“No, he still loves you.” There was bitterness in his voice. I felt horrible. Stefan was one of the most important people in my life, and I was in the middle of a love quadrangle where I had the potential to really hurt him.

“Stefan, of all of the people in this mess, you, me, Sam, and Jeff, you are the most important to me. So however this works out, it has to happen so you and I are still tight.” He smiled at me and nodded. “Do you want me to back off and leave the two of you alone?” I asked.

“Part of me wants to say yes, but that really wouldn't solve anything. I think what has to happen is that you two need to decide if you want to, or if you can work things out. If not, then maybe he and I have a chance.”

I studied him carefully and wondered why I missed what a deep and thoughtful person he was. He read my mind and smiled. “Well, this is all pretty irrelevant. He doesn't even want to see me.”

“Yes he does. He just doesn't want to hurt you anymore. He's not willing to risk your feelings until he's strong enough not to let you down.” I needed to escape and think about this. I was desperate to be by myself.

“Stefan, I have to go to the bathroom, bad. Can you work on this list and I'll be right back?” He knew me, knew I was trying to escape, and gave me the out. He nodded.

I fled to the bathroom. So that's what this was all about. All this rejection, the avoidance, it was his way of saving me from any more pain in case he couldn't work it out. He must have thought that through and decided there was a good chance he wouldn't make it. Rather than have me keep investing my emotional capital into him, he forced me to cut my losses. And he kept Stefan around because he figured they were just friends, and that Stefan wouldn't personally invest so much that he'd get hurt. But Stefan had fallen for him. Was it just the Nightingale effect? Was he just falling for Jeff because he was 'nursing' him? What a mess. I composed myself and went back to find Stefan.

“So what did you decide?” he asked me.

“I started the process of peeling the hurt and rejection away. I still don't know what's underneath.”

“JP, I know you love me. That is why you are so open and honest with me. Do you realize how much easier things would have been if we had just stayed together?” We both cracked up over that, and the mood was lightened.

That night everyone went to bed early except me. Sam had the night shift at the motel. I sat on the patio smoking a joint, staring at the beautiful night sky. The stars were bright and vivid. I ruminated on my dilemma but it did no good. I wouldn't really be able to figure this out until I talked to Jeff face to face. I heard footsteps and a weary Sam came walking out of the house.

“I wondered where you went to,” he said. I handed him the joint. He took a few hits and sat next to me. “So what's bothering you?”

“You, Stefan, and Jeff.”

“You mad at me?” he asked.

I smiled at him and grabbed his hand. “Hardly.” That made him smile back. “I'm just confused.”

“You brought this up because you want to talk to me about it. So tell me what's going on?” His tone wasn't all that friendly, and I realized that he was being defensive. The stars shown on his handsome face, creating an iridescent effect.

“I've been feeling really rejected because Jeff wouldn't see me.” He knew that. “Stefan told me that he did that to try to shield me from further emotional trauma. I don't think he was too sure he'd make it through this when he went into the hospital.”

“So you were all mad at him for being a dick, and now you're not because he was just doing it to protect your feelings?” I nodded.

“It was easy to write him off when I was mad at him, but now that I'm not, it's forcing me to try to analyze my feelings toward him.”

“So how do you feel about him?” I could sense the apprehension in his voice. Sam really liked me.

“I won't know until he gets out and we spend some time together. I'm sorry, but that's the truth of the matter.” We sat there in silence, and I tried to decide whether to go on. I sensed that he knew I was holding back, and that just wasn't fair. “There are two other complications. Stefan has fallen in love with Jeff.”

“Wow. That's a shock.” He looked at me, understanding my dilemma now. “So how does that make you feel?”

“Scared. Stefan is really important to me. He's one of the cornerstones of my life. I can't lose him as a friend.”

“You know,” he said, “I'll bet you're just as important to him. I'd guess even more. I think you should realize that he told you all this so you two could work through this honestly and openly.” I looked at him, silently thanking him for pointing that out. “So what's the other complication?”

“You,” I said.

“Me? I'm just a guy you met a month ago. I work for you. We have fun together. I'm your friend. It's no big deal.” He was trying to make this easy for me, and it just made me realize what a neat guy he was.

“So that's all I am to you? Just a friend?” Let him sit in the hot seat for a minute.

“Isn't that what I mean to you?”

“Nice try,” I said, “but the ball is in your court.”

He sighed. “You want the truth?”

“No, I want you to lie to me so I can be even more confused.” He chuckled. If it was Jeff he would have snaughed, and it bothered me to think about him.

“I like you. A lot. There, I said it. So go ahead. Laugh at me. Tell me what an idiot I am.” Where did he get all these insecurities?

“I like you a lot too. That's what makes things more complicated.” I leaned over and kissed him. He was smiling. “So I may end up having to make a choice, and I really don't want to hurt you. Liking me is a high risk venture these days.”

“JP, I don't mind taking the risk if you're honest with me. No one I've gone out with has ever been this candid, and I really appreciate it. If you end up with Jeff, I still want to be your friend.”

“Deal. You tired? Want to go to bed?”

He grinned as he stood up. “I'm not tired, but I want to go to bed.” I giggled like a girl and felt like an idiot.

February 24, 1968

The last week had been terrific. Having Isidore, Betty and the kids here was great. Add Stefan and Sam into the mix and it was perfect. The kids loved Escorial. They could run around outside, they could swim, and there was a ton of room inside to explore. It was all new and different, and they were having a blast. Then Sam had delivered the coup de grace and permanently won a spot in their hearts. Yesterday he'd brought them a puppy, a cute little Golden Retriever. Betty and Isidore were less thrilled, but Sam didn't seem to care. They named the dog “Goldie” which was incredibly unoriginal, but they're kids and it's their dog.

The really impressive people were Betty and Isidore. Isidore had arranged for some of our furniture in Chicago to be moved, and had done it all on her own. That began arriving last week, including the most precious piece of all: the statue of Andre. They'd completely organized the house, and even hired some help. Betty screened the applicants, and Isidore made the final call. They ended up hiring a nice couple who had recently moved here from Mexico. Anna and Rafael were young, in their late 20's, and had appealed mightily to both Isidore and Betty because they spoke some English, they seemed to be hard workers, and they really needed the work. I suspected that they weren't here legally, but if things worked out we'd see if that could be corrected. Anna was cute, and her job was to help with the cooking and housework so Betty could spend more time with the kids. Rafael was responsible for the yard and the cars. He had a driver's license, although I'm not sure how he managed that, so we figured he could help take the kids to school, or whatever. Rafael seemed like a nice guy. He was really cute and fit, but didn't seem too bright. I'd have to keep Stefan away from him. Best of all, Rafael loved horses, so we could get a few horses for the stables and he could take care of them. I insisted on overpaying them. I wanted them to be loyal, and to know they were appreciated.

Sam, Stefan, and I had taken off this morning to go do some shopping. We'd stopped for breakfast first, and I decided to be rude and read the paper. More bad news from Vietnam. The “credibility gap” continued to widen. Westmoreland and Johnson continued to proclaim that TET was a major victory for the US and South Vietnam, and yesterday they'd managed to re-take the ancient capital of Hue. Looking deeper, though, showed that all wasn't so rosy. The Pentagon posted the highest one week casualties for the entire war: 547 killed and 2547 wounded. Even more ominous, the Selective Service, the evil draft boards, had called up another 48,000 young men for the meat grinder. It was depressing beyond belief. The only way to deal with it was to bury it inside. The feeling of helplessness gripped me like a vice, and I made a commitment, for the umpteenth time, to do everything I could to force an end to this war.

Sam and Stefan took the paper away and gradually cheered me up. After that, we went shopping. I wanted to get a thank you gift for the team that had done so much to get our house together. For Isidore, I got a stunning set of sapphire earrings. For Betty, I got a set of pearls. I got another necklace for Anna and a nice watch for Rafael.

That afternoon I relaxed in the Great Hall, the central room in the house that resembled the Great Hall of a Medieval Castle. Isidore was still trying to adapt the décor to fit our style, but it had a warrior Gothic theme that was hard to get beyond. I decided that it was the perfect place for Andre's statue, and I'd placed it in a prominent spot. I stood there admiring again the artist's skill in capturing Andre's look and expression, his jovial, happy go lucky expression, the one that his son had evidently inherited.

“Daddy, who's that?” I looked down to see Ace staring up at the statue. I picked him up so he was eye level to Andre.

“That's your father,” I said.

“I thought you were my father?”

I knew this would come eventually, and I figured that the sooner he knew, the better. “You have three fathers. You have Papa Jeff, me, and Andre.”

“He has the same name as I do!” Ace exclaimed.

“That's right. You were named after him.”

He studied the statue more closely. “How come he never comes to see me?”

“Because he died before you were even born. He was a soldier, see his uniform,” I said pointing to the marble pockets. “And he was one of the bravest men in the whole army. He was killed saving the lives of a bunch of other men, and they gave him that medal as a reward.” I pointed to the spot on the statue where the artist had put a rendering of Andre's Distinguished Service Cross.

“So he was a hero?” Ace asked.

“Most definitely. And I loved him very much, just like I love you. And you know what the neatest thing is?”

“No, what?”

“You're a lot like him, so when I'm around you, you remind me of my best friend.” He smiled and got bored, like five year olds do, so I put him down and he ran off.

A few minutes later Isidore came in. “What made you decide to suddenly tell Ace that Andre was his father?” She seemed mildly perturbed.

“He asked me who this was and I told him the truth. He needed to find out someday, I figured if he grows up knowing it won't be such a big deal.” She nodded and stared at Andre's face with me. She brushed his cheek and a tear rolled out of her eye. How many more Andres would Johnson and Westmoreland kill?

February 27, 1968

We'd transferred our home and our household to Palo Alto, but there was still a lot of unfinished business in Chicago. I was due to speak at Harvard and Princeton in the middle of next month, and then I had another lecture at the University of Chicago on April 4. At the end of that month I had a talk at Columbia, where hopefully I'd get to see Sammy, and then my schedule ended in Paris at the beginning of May. It was pretty busy, but doable.

I sat at my desk plotting out my schedule when my phone rang. “JP Crampton,” I said simply as I answered it.

“JP, it's Aaron. I've got good news. They plan to release Jeff in a few days. I've got the court's approval, so I just need to know when you can pick him up.”

“How is he?” I asked cautiously.

“According to the doctors, he's doing very well. When did you plan to come get him?” He was obviously busy and wanted to get to the point.

I knew I had to go, I had to be the one to pick him up, and I knew that it would be unfair to leave him there longer than he needed to be. “I'll catch a flight out tomorrow.” I called the airlines and booked my flight, then headed home to tell Isidore and Stefan the news.

They were both happy and apprehensive. I got the feeling they were worried that I'd cause him some sort of emotional damage and that really irritated me. Even if we didn't get back together as lovers, Jeff would always be part of my life. The conversation with Sam was harder. He knew this was D-Day for us, and I knew that he had fallen for me hard. I also knew that I'd fallen hard for him, but I wasn't willing to admit that. Someone was going to end up getting hurt in this whole thing. Quite probably more than one of us.

February 29, 1968

I'd gotten back yesterday and puttered around my almost empty Condo. It seemed really strange with all the people and furniture gone, and my shoes rang out as the sound bounced off the empty walls. I didn't go see Jeff yesterday. I told myself I was too tired, but I was still too confused to face him. What did I want? Did I want him back? Or did I want Sam? Or did I want no one, to be a free man?

The hospital had all the release forms ready and I signed them before I even went to see him. If he was still a psycho I'd regret that, I thought to myself cynically. He was waiting in his room, the same room he'd been in before, sitting on his bed, looking happy and lonely at the same time. He saw me through the window and his look changed to nervousness.

“Hi JP!” he said with forced cheerfulness. “I'm surprised to see you. I figured Stefan would be picking me up.”

I eyed him carefully. “Would you have preferred that?” There was a sneer in my voice that I couldn't entirely eradicate.

“I'm not sure,” he said honestly. That was a good answer. I guess part of me had been worried that he'd be totally fixated on us, and that I'd have no choices, that I'd have to pick him or consign him back to the drug heap. It dawned on me that he wanted to get strong enough so that didn't happen. He must not trust me much anymore, at least not with his heart, and that seemed grossly unfair based on all I'd been through with him in the last nine months. In my mind, if I wanted to hurt him, he should let me, since God knows he'd hurt me.

I put on my happy face. “Well, I can be fun too,” I said with a smile.

He grinned back at me. “Yes you can.”

“You ready to leave?” I asked him.

“You know JP, for the first time since I've been here, I can honestly say that I am. It's been a tough road, but I'm good to go now.”

“That's great!” I said, and put my arm around his shoulders and led him out. Of course there were a few conversations with the doctors on the way, but they had mercifully cut them to a minimum. We headed out to the Eldorado.

“Nice car JP. When did you get this one?” I'd had it for almost five months now; he just hadn't been around to see it.

“Late last year, October or November I think.”

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“California.”

“Now?” He looked confused, like he expected to stay here for a bit.

“Yep, unless there's something you want to do here?” It came out as a challenge, and I regretted that, but he took it in stride.

He sat there thoughtfully. “Nope.” So we headed west.

“When is our flight?” he asked.

“We're not flying, we're driving.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That's a long drive.”

I looked over at him while I drove and recognized the man I had loved so much. I wasn't sure if those feelings were still there, or at least still as strong, but I cared deeply about him. I let myself melt a little bit, turned the ice down.

“Yeah, but I wanted to spend some time with you, just the two of us.” I reached over and grabbed his hand and stroked it. He responded, and squeezed my hand back. “Besides, we have to get your car out there somehow.”

“My car?” He asked.

“Yeah, I don't need it. I bought a new one. Had to have a convertible if I'm going to live in California. So I decided to toss my hand-me-downs to you.”

He snaughed, his unique gesture that I always found so endearing, a combination of a snort and a laugh. “Well,” he said as he looked around at the totally luxurious Eldorado, “I'll try to squeak by with it.”