Gap Year - 85. Chapter 85

March 26, 2004

The Schluter Foundation

San Francisco, CA

Will

I’d been bored shitless and needed something to do, so Jake asked me to come up and see how the vetting system for projects was going to work for the Foundation. I’d spent the morning working on it with one of the analysts. His name was Griff, and he was a really nice guy, but a total hippy. It was like when he moved, I could hear the granola crunching inside him. “You think this may work?” I asked, as I read one of the grant requests. This one was seeking money for a special boom that would corral plastic waste in the ocean so it could be recycled. “They’re going to pull all that fucking plastic out of the water?”

“They think they can, and I think it’s worth a try,” he said, then smiled. “You were raised around business deals, right?”

“Yeah,” I answered cautiously.

“We view things a little differently in the nonprofit world,” he said. “You aren’t looking to make money; you’re looking to change things, to make things better. In business, it’s easy, because you can quantify profits. Change is hard to quantify.”

“Makes sense,” I said, smiling at him. “I guess you have to look at risk differently too.”

“You do,” he said. “It’s not like investing; it’s like shopping. You’re trying to find the things that have the best chance of making the most difference. You know the money is gone, because it’s a charity.”

“Thanks, Griff,” I said. “I was struggling with some of these proposals, but now you’ve put it all in perspective.”

“Kick-ass,” he said, and I chuckled. “Heard you met Jesse.”

“Yeah, I was on a spring break trip and he came along,” I said. It was weird that he’d brought Jesse up, and even stranger that he knew I’d met him. “He used to work here, right?”

“He did. He’s a good guy, but he has a tough time working in teams,” Griff said, then got nervous. “I’m sorry.”

“Dude, you have nothing to apologize for,” I said. “Not everyone is like you and can work well with other people.”

“Thanks,” he said shyly, and blushed just a bit. Griff was a total dork, but completely adorable.

“So Jesse is a lone ranger type, who is best when he does his own thing?” I asked. I briefly marveled at how much shit I’d learned from eavesdropping on conversations my father and Stef had about work. They had been talking about an employee just like Jesse supposedly was, a dude who could do really well if you gave him his own project, but when he had to work with other people, he was a disaster. He pissed people off by being rude, missing deadlines, and all other kinds of antisocial shit. They’d considered firing him, but had found a place in the company where he could do his own thing. I’d have to ask them how that had turned out.

“Yeah, in a group, he is the man in charge, even if he’s not,” he said. “I mean, that’s cool, but he kinda shuts everyone else down.”

“Sounds like if he wanted to come back to work here, he’d have to find his own thing to do,” I mused.

“I mean, things have been really good here since Jake took over,” Griff said. “I’m not sucking up because the dude’s family to you; I’m just saying he’s been awesome.”

“I love Jake,” I said. “That makes me feel really good.”

“But I think that if you brought Jesse back in, that would probably set things back a bit,” Griff said. “Besides, he doesn’t really want to work on this shit. He wants to be a lawyer.”

“He does?” I asked. I’d never talked to him about that.

“That’s his dream,” he said. “I saw Mike’s report on the Foundation.”

“You did?” I asked. What the fuck was with these guys? I mean, Griff seemed to know all about Jesse and Mike, and I felt like I was being drawn into some organizational soap opera.

Griff nodded. “Jesse shared it with some of us. Mike did a pretty good job. Pretty much nailed what was going on here.”

“The first hour after I met Mike, I was pretty much convinced I was going to have to kick his ass,” I said. Griff laughed.

“Got up on his judgmental soapbox?”

“You know Mike pretty well,” I teased.

“He and Jesse both get pretty fired up when they have a cause,” Griff said. “Never seen a couple fight like that, though. Damn.”

“Really?” That was interesting, but so was how into Mike and Jesse’s business he was.

“Dude, Mike got so pissed off at Jesse one time, he cut the threads in the seat of Jesse’s pants, so he’s walking around one afternoon with the ass of his pants spread wide open and his boxers showing,” Griff said, cracking both of us up. “They had cute little hearts on them.”

“Awww,” I said, in a fake sugary way, even though that was pretty extreme. It made me think that I’d dodged a bullet by not developing a relationship with Mike. “Makes me glad they were calm on spring break.”

“I think it’s working for social justice that just gets them so pissed off they end up taking it out on each other,” he said, shaking his hand. “Now that Mike’s going to be a rock star, they’re more mellow.”

“Whoever thought being a rock star would make someone chill?” I asked, and we chuckled about that.

“So in Mike’s report, he talked about a charity to help gay people with legal troubles,” Griff said, getting back to what was probably his real point. “That’s what Jesse wants to do.”

“Dude would need a law degree,” I noted.

“He starts in September,” Griff said. “Going to USC if he can afford it. He was trying to raise enough money, so not sure if he got that done.”

“I’ll ask him about it,” I said. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“I wasn’t trying to diss the dude,” Griff said, worried that he’d sabotaged his friend.

“It’s all good,” I said. “I actually have a better impression of him now than I did before.”

“So what’s your vote on this deal?” he asked, gesturing at the ocean plastic removal project.

“I’m a ‘yes’,” I said. He smiled and high-fived me, then I wandered off to find Jake. His door was open so I walked into his office, and felt like shit because he was meeting with three other people. I was used to people closing their doors when they were in a conference. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good,” Jake said. He introduced me to the people in the room. “Griff convince you to fund the plastic removal deal?”

“Totally,” I said, doing an imitation of Griff’s hippy voice. That got a laugh from everyone in the room. “I’m going to go grab some lunch and wander around.”

“Try to be back at the condo by 6,” he said. “If you won’t be, call me, and I’ll tell you where to meet us for dinner.”

“Deal,” I said. I gave him a quick hug, said goodbye to the other people, then strolled out onto the streets of the City. I couldn’t help but smile at what a cool place this was, and how the vibe was so awesome.

I was going to go to the Chinese restaurant that Sean tuned us into, but it was such a great day I walked along the Embarcadero until I found a bistro with outside seating. I pulled out my burner phone and saw that I had a message. I almost broke the phone trying to open it so fast.

TRAVIS: I’m fine

TRAVIS: Only short texts

TRAVIS: Reply only if emergency

I stared at the phone, smiling, so happy to hear that he was alright. I wondered what the deal was with short messages only. His mother had made me start to question what his endgame was in this whole thing, and the downside of that was that when I looked at messages like this, I wondered if it was a legit concern, or just some way to keep his own secrets.

“Hey,” I heard a voice say, and it was so unexpected that it startled me. I hurriedly closed the burner phone and probably looked guilty when I did. I focused my attention on the guy standing in front of my table, and not gonna lie, this dude was so hot he was on fire. He kind of looked like Tom Welling, that dude who played Clark Kent on Smallville. “You’re Will Schluter, right?”

My shields immediately went up, despite his total gorgeousness. “Do I know you?”

“Randy Tibbets,” he said, and held out his hand, which I shook. “I met you in New York at Fashion Week.” I had no memory of this dude.

“I’m sorry. That was such a busy time, I don’t remember that,” I said.

“Dude, it is no big deal,” he said. “I just recognized you and I thought I’d say ‘hi’.” His whole tone changed when he said that last sentence. He’d said it in a very flirtatious way, and raised his eyebrows suggestively as he spoke. This dude was definitely hitting on me.

“Hi,” I said nonchalantly, like I was impervious to his attractiveness, and almost chuckled when he looked disappointed that his plan was failing. I smiled at him to show him I was teasing him, getting a beautiful grin in return. “Have a seat. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Cool,” he said. It was pretty awesome to be sitting here and have a hot guy come up and hit on me, and then get to hang out with him, getting to know him. Did this happen to people all the time? I’d have to try this more often. We bantered back and forth for a while while we watched people stroll by. This guy was really handsome, but not the sharpest tool in the shed.

“So do you live here now?” I asked him.

“Nope, I’m up here on business,” he said, then got really serious. He looked around in a sleuthy way, then lowered his voice. “I’m here to see you.”

My internal shields were suddenly at full strength, but I tried to play it cool on the outside. “Oh yeah? Why’d you want to see me?”

“Travis Buck needs your help,” he said, and kept looking around furtively. It was just a little ridiculous. This guy was a total dipshit, and was clearly someone’s tool. This is not how you’d play it if you really were trying to be secretive. He was acting like he was James fucking Bond, when if he’d been all cool and collected, I might have partially fallen for his act.

“Then he should call me,” I said calmly. He looked at me in surprise.

“Have you talked to him since he left?” he asked, and let his excitement show, like he’d just gotten some big piece of info from me.

“Nope, I got nothing,” I said.

“So this is why I’m here. His attorney, Guy Fellowes, asked me to see if you’d be willing to help him out,” he said.

“I haven’t talked to Guy recently,” I said. “I can give him a call.” I’d never talked to or met Guy Fellowes, and if this dude really had worked for him, he’d have known that.

“He’s having a tough time getting in touch with Travis,” he said earnestly. This guy’s acting skills weren’t even good enough for porn. “Travis told Guy that if he desperately needed to get in touch with him, he should contact you. Travis said you’re the only one who would know where he was.”

“Do you have any ID?” I asked. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing as he stared at me, totally freaking out.

“I didn’t bring anything with me,” he said. “That way if I lose something, it doesn’t incriminate me.”

“Let’s see your wallet,” I said. I gestured toward his pants. “I mean, you have one.”

He was trapped and he knew it. “So are you going to help Travis? I thought you guys were like a couple. I heard you loved him. You’re going to leave him hanging?”

He was such an idiot it was hysterical, and that prompted me to start laughing. Then the visual of me laughing my ass off while this dude was pretending to be afraid of the attention, like he was a spy caught at a secret drop point, made me laugh even harder. “You are a riot.”

“Dude, Travis’s life is on the line,” he said, acting all self-righteous. “This is not funny.”

I stopped laughing and stared at him, then laughed again. “Travis’s life may very well be on the line, and it’s not funny at all, but I have no idea where he is,” I said. He frowned at me. “I do have a job for you.”

“What?” he asked, and got animated, thinking that I was going to pull him into some big scheme that would lead to Travis.

“When you report back to Curtis Buck, tell him his stupid-ass games won’t work with me, and if he tries this shit again, the next dude who does it won’t be as lucky as you are,” I said. He swallowed hard at that. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

He didn’t argue; he just got up and left. I watched him leave to make sure he didn’t hang around and stalk me, and because he had a cute ass. Unfortunately, he’d killed my buzz, so I paid my bill and walked back to the condo.

I’d never even heard of Guy Fellowes before Monday, but I thought it would be interesting to connect with him. This gave me the excuse. I pulled out my laptop, did a search, and found him. He worked for a smaller law firm in Santa Monica. I called his office and got patched through to a secretary. “My name is Will Schluter. I am a friend of Travis Buck’s. I wanted to pass some information on to Mr. Fellowes.”

“Just a minute, please,” she said.

It ended up being five minutes, but that was alright, since I didn’t have an appointment. “Guy Fellowes,” a brusque voice said.

“Mr. Fellowes, my name is Will Schluter; I’m Travis Buck’s friend,” I said.

“The way Travis describes it, you’re his best friend,” he said, his voice friendly now.

“It works the same for me,” I said. “Listen, I’m probably not supposed to contact you, I mean my lawyers will probably shit a brick, but I had what was kind of a weird encounter and I wanted to let you know about it.”

“Who represents you?” he asked.

“Sean Massey of Browne & Hardwicke,” I said, and gave him Sean’s contact info.

“Thanks. Don’t think I’ll need to bother him, but just in case, it’s good info to have,” he said. “So what happened?”

“Some guy who called himself Randy Tibbetts approached me while I was eating lunch here in the City and ended up telling me that he works for you, and that Travis needs my help,” I said.

“I don’t have anyone who works for me named Randy,” he said defensively.

“He works for Curtis Buck,” I said, then laid out the whole conversation for him.

“You said this guy was really handsome, had brown hair, and was in his mid-twenties?” he asked.

“Yeah, he looked a little like Tom Welling,” I said. “You know, the dude who plays Clark Kent.”

“That was most likely Loren Barrett, one of Curtis Buck’s stooges,” he said. “How did you end the conversation?”

“I told him to tell Curtis Buck to leave me alone, and that I didn’t know where Travis was,” I paraphrased.

“It would be interesting to know if Loren actually told Curtis that,” he said. “I’ve found that Curtis is such an asshole that the people who work for him usually lie instead of telling him that they failed.”

“Well I’m not really worried about it either way, but I thought you should know. I mean, he mentioned your name, so even though it was bullshit, that got you involved,” I said.

“I appreciate that,” he said. “This number you called me from, is this your cell phone?”

“It is,” I confirmed.

“If I do need your help, I’ll contact you via your cell, if that’s alright with you,” he said.

“Tell me the numbers you’ll be calling from so I won’t send you to voicemail,” I said in a jocular way. He gave me his digits and I created a contact for him.

“By the way, I heard from Travis today, and he’s safe and sound,” he said.

“Did you actually talk to him?” I asked hopefully.

“Only a text at this point,” he said.

“Better than nothing,” I said, but this whole thing with such tight restrictions on contact was starting to weird me out. “Call me if you need me.”

“Thanks,” he said, and ended the call.

March 28, 2004

Escorial

Palo Alto, CA

Will

My plans to escape to New York had been sidetracked by spending time in the City, so I just decided to stay here until Monday and fly out with Grand. Since he and I were leaving for almost a month, and since it was a Sunday, I knew this dinner would be a big deal.

It was early, so as I usually did, I went up to Grand’s study. I found him and Stef alone. “Good evening,” I said, as I breezed into the room.

“It is good to see you,” Stef said nervously.

“Have a seat,” Grand said. That he got up and closed the door started to make me pretty apprehensive.

“What’s up?” I asked them.

Grand gave Stef a look of righteous superiority, the same look he gave him when he was about to give him shit for being slutty. “I have been searching my memory for events around the time of Travis’s conception,” Stef said.

“You have?” I asked, and now I was totally freaking out. Jesus Christ. Who all had Miranda Buck fucked?

“That would have been in July or August of 1985, I think,” Stef said. “Greg and I attended a party at the Buck Mansion in August. It was the first time I had been there.”

“Go on,” I said, to encourage him.

“I am not sure if you have explored the grounds of the Buck Mansion, but there is a wooded area off from the pool that is relatively secluded,” he said.

“I know that area well,” I said. “Travis and I usually got high there when I stayed over. Last time I was there I saw Taylor Buck getting boned by a hot Malibu senior she used to date.”

“It would appear that the sexual energy is strong in that locale,” Grand said, and couldn’t help smirking.

Stef gave him a hateful look, then turned his attention back to me. “Greg and I had been drinking, then we had been fighting, and finally we had gone off into the woods to try and not make a scene.”

“Was it an epic fight?” I asked.

“It was not pleasant,” Stef said. “He was being particularly nasty, and I was being particularly bitchy.”

“I’m sorry,” I said sympathetically. He shrugged in response.

“We had a nice meeting of the minds, and since we were alone, we decided to seal our reconciliation physically,” Stef said.

“You had make-up sex in the woods at the Buck Mansion?” I asked, paraphrasing his statement down to the basics, much like I did for Grand.

“Yes,” Stef said. “Only we were not alone in the woods. Miranda Buck happened to be there as well. She had had another argument with Curtis, and had gone there to escape from his tantrums.” It was not too hard for me to figure out where this was going.

“Are you trying to tell me that you and Greg had a threesome with Miranda Buck in the woods at the Buck Mansion?” I asked, stunned at this latest revelation.

“That is what he is trying to tell you,” Grand said, and now he was obviously smirking.

"How is it that two gay guys end up having sex with a woman in the woods?” I asked.

“She came upon us during the heat of the moment, and as you are no doubt aware, when one is in the middle of having sex, it is not the easiest to resist additional urges and opportunities,” he said.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed, as I put this together. “You mean that either you or Greg could be Travis’s father?”

“It is more likely to be Greg than me,” he said. “And since we were having sex with each other, we did not use condoms. I do not remember whether we ultimately used them when we had sex with her.”

“That’s a little freaky,” I said. My mind was completely blown by this revelation. “I guess we can add you and Greg to the list, along with Robbie, as a possible biodad for Travis.”

“I think the chances are remote, but I wanted to let you know it is possible,” Stef said. “I am sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry to me about,” I said. “I’ll bet even Grand would have done the same thing.”

Grand gave me an annoyed look for putting him on the spot, while Stef grinned as he turned his attention to Grand. “I am wondering if you would have succumbed as well?” Stef asked Grand archly.

“I doubt it,” Grand said, but Stef and I both stared at him until he grimaced. “It is quite possible I would have reacted as you did.”

“I guess we won’t be able to find out if you knocked her up until she tells Travis on April 20^th,” I said.

“The only way to find out before then, I would think, would be to do a DNA test. We would need Travis for that, and he is unavailable until then, anyway,” Grand said.

“I called Miranda and put a great deal of pressure on her to tell me who Travis’s father was, or at least that it was not Greg or I, but she refused to even talk about it,” Stef said.

There was a knock on the door, and that heralded the arrival of my father. We greeted him warmly and he sat on the couch with me. “Stef or Greg could be Travis’s father,” I told him, point-blank.

“What?” he asked, then his eyes rocketed toward Stef.

“Stef was just telling us how he and Greg had a threesome with Miranda about the same time that Travis would have been conceived,” I explained.

“Your sluttiness continues to bite you from the past,” Dad said to Stef, and chuckled.

“I am not the only one who is suspect here,” Stef snapped, annoyed at all of the moralizing Dad and Grand liked to toss out.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Dad said.

“No, but Curtis Buck thinks that Robbie did,” Stef said.

I wasn’t sure how Dad would react to that, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good. I was shocked that I was wrong. “I’m not sure how that would have happened,” he said calmly. “Curtis and Miranda Buck were at Claire’s wedding, so that was probably the only opportunity Robbie would have had. I think that if he’d snuck off to have sex with her, he’d have ultimately told me about it.”

“I guess it is possible, but unlikely,” Stef mused.

“Maybe he did, and that’s why Curtis Buck accused her of having sex with him,” I suggested.

“I don’t think so, but I can’t completely rule it out, and I sure as fuck can’t ask Robbie,” Dad said.

“Looks like we’ll be in the dark on this for another month,” I said fatalistically.

We heard the grandfather clock starting to gong out its seven chimes, and all of us hurriedly got up and went into the dining room. As expected, it was a full crowd. We were just about to take our seats when Jack strolled into the room. All conversation stopped as we stared at him, which was probably pretty rude, but it was one of those times when the natural reaction won. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up,” Jack said to Grand nervously.

“You are always welcome here,” Grand said to him warmly, and gave Jack one of his warmest hugs, the kind he usually reserved for his grandchildren.

“Thanks,” Jack said, and seemed choked up at how effusively affectionate Grand had been.

“Daddy,” Marie said, and gave him a huge hug. With that one interaction, she’d shown all of us how much this divorce was bothering her, and how much she missed having Jack in her day-to-day life.

“Hey Princess,” he said.

“Good to see you, Dad,” John said, and also gave him a warm hug.

“How’s the band?” Jack asked him.

“We’re really doing well,” John said. “Hawaii was an awesome time for us. We’re starting to really develop our own sound.”

“I can’t wait to hear you play again,” Jack said, but his eyes had moved on and had landed on Claire. “I hope you don’t mind me being here.”

“It’s a little late to worry about that, since you didn’t bother to even mention that you were going to show up,” Claire said, but her tone had a playful note to it.

“I have learned that it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” he said to her.

“Then it seems as if to make you feel truly welcome, I should let you sit next to me,” she said. Then she smiled at him, walked up to him, and gave him a friendly kiss and a nice hug.

“That would be wonderful,” he said, beaming at her. Dinner began, and there was a strange vibe at the table. We were all happy that Jack was there, and even happier that Claire seemed glad that he was, but it seemed that it wasn’t just me who wondered what his presence meant. Was he here because he was trying to repair his friendship with Claire, or because he was trying to rekindle their relationship as a couple?

My father decided to provide us with a timely distraction. “I wanted to let you know about an event that happened to Jake and me,” my father said, using his ‘announcement’ voice and thus silencing conversation. “We got married a couple of weeks ago.”

“You already got married in Canada,” I said, confused.

Jake got up and went over to the side of the room, where there was a big placard. He picked it up, turned it around, and showed it to all of us. “This time, it’s legal.” I read it and my mind was blown to see that it was a marriage license issued to Jacob Pike and Bradley Schluter by the City of San Francisco, dated February 29, 2004.

“You took advantage of the opportunity to get married when Mayor Newsom ordered the City of San Francisco to issue marriage licenses to gay couples,” Grand concluded, even as he smiled at this blown-up copy of their marriage license.

“We did,” Dad said. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about it or invite you, but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing.” That sentence was aimed at me, since it would have been reasonable for them to let me know about it, but there was no way I was going to be that petty about it.

“That is hella cool!” I said, even as I looked at it in amazement.

“Who would have thought such a thing could happen,” Stef mused. “It seems like it was not so long ago that we had just managed to get being gay removed from the DSM IV, and now it is possible for two gay men to get married.”

“Well, they were only issued from February 12 to March 11, so we were lucky we were able to squeak in before they shut them off,” Jake said.

“It is very difficult to stop something like that once it has started,” Stef said.

“Why did you get that blown up and made up like a sign?” I asked.

“Because we’re going to carry it with us during San Francisco’s Pride Parade,” Jake said. “It’s on June 27. You’re welcome to join us.”

“I am so going with you,” I said.