Poor Man's Son - 32. Chapter 31

July 29, 2000

Claremont, Ohio

Gathan

“Kristin is not your niece,” Chris Hendrickson said firmly.

“She actually looks kind of like Grand,” Will observed, then got all nervous that he’d actually spoken. It was hard to tell if he was right, but when I compared Kristin to Claire, the similarities became even more pronounced.

“She is my niece,” JP re-asserted. He paused and turned slightly so he was addressing Chris Hendrickson directly. “Your paternal grandfather was my natural father. Your father was my half brother, and your aunt my half sister.”

“How can you prove that?” their lawyer asked.

“I have irrefutable proof, that I can divulge if necessary,” JP said. “While you attorneys are bound by your oath of confidentiality, I would like to stress to the others in this room that this news would be somewhat salacious. The local gossip mill would enjoy it.”

“If you don’t want anyone to know, why did you tell us?” Mrs. Hendrickson demanded.

“Because Gathan isn’t the only young adult in this room with potential,” he said, looking at Kristin. “The relative discomfort of our families is a trifling matter compared to her future success.”

“Living with us, being raised by us, has made her the successful young woman that she is,” Chris Hendrickson said.

“Wow. How noble of you to take credit for everything Kristin is,” I said, being much too nasty. “Good thing she had nothing to do with it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he snapped back at me.

“So you are volunteering to be Kristin’s guardian?” our lawyer asked JP. “Would she live with you?”

“That would be an option,” JP said. “There are others.”

“We’d need to know what those are,” their lawyer said.

“I’m not sure that’s important to you,” our lawyer said. “Once the courts rule, it will not be of concern to you.”

“It will come out in the hearings,” their lawyer snapped.

“I think we need to take a break and discuss this,” Kristin said. “May we use this room to do that?” I was pretty impressed with the way she just dismissed them.

“We’ll be back,” their lawyer said, guiding the Hendricksons out of the room.

“You’re my uncle?” Kristin asked JP.

“I am,” he said. “Your great uncle. Very few people know about that.”

“You’ve taken an enormous risk for me,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, but it’s not such an enormous risk,” he said. “My own children already know about it.”

“But not your grandchildren,” Will said, giving him a very dirty look.

“They will now,” he said. His look at Will was sincere, pleading for Will to understand, and that was enough to make Will relent immediately.

“What did you mean about my father being poor?” Kristin asked.

“Only he knows his true financial situation,” JP stated. “I am just sharing rumors. And I’m not saying he’s poor, just that his projected wealth is not similar to his actual net worth.”

“I don’t understand how that can be,” she persisted.

JP walked over and sat next to her and took her hand for effect. “After your grandfather died, your father has reportedly been profligate with his inheritance. He is in the real estate development business, isn’t he?”

“He is,” she affirmed.

“What is the last project you remember him developing?” JP asked. We all wracked our brains for a few seconds until we realized there weren’t any.

“You mean he’s just been running through Grandfather’s money?”

“That is how it appears,” JP said. “He’s not broke, but he’s running out of cash. That’s why selling the property Stefan referred to is important. It will probably carry him for another ten years or so.”

“This is a lot to throw at you,” I told her supportively. I was sitting on the other side of her, and I put my arm around her to let her know I was there for her.

“You said I was tough,” she said. “I guess we’ll find out just how tough.”

“I’d say pretty damn tough,” Will joked, smiling at her.

“What do you want from them?” our lawyer asked Kristin.

“I didn’t really want anything, but now they’ve created this huge issue over Gathan.” She thought for a minute. “I think I should probably have control of my trust fund too.”

“Are you worried that money is missing, or being mishandled?” the attorney asked.

“No, but if that’s how he’s managed his own money, I don’t want him doing that with mine.”

“Let me go talk to their attorney,” he said.

I walked over to Will and put my arm around his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Kristin joined us, and I was kind of annoyed by that, considering that I wanted to talk to him alone, but he smiled at her and put his arm around her, welcoming her into our midst.

“I met this awesome guy in Italy. His name is Berto. It was hard to leave him to come home.”

Kristin gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s a tough break.”

“I know. And I know there’s nothing I can do about it, but it still hurts,” he said sadly.

“I guess this is how I’ll be feeling in a month,” I told them both.

“Me too,” Kristin said, depressed now.

I decided to lighten the mood. “We’re engaged now,” I said to our group.

“You are?” Stef asked, all excited.

“Well, Kristin has told everyone else about it, but she still hasn’t asked me yet.”

“You are such an ass,” she said to me. “I can’t believe I’m fighting so we can be a couple.”

“That is a certainly a remarkable decision you made,” Stef said, piling on. I pretended to give him a dirty look.

“It was the only way to get the Claremont cops to drop the charges,” Kristin said.

“Do you have to make a formal announcement?” JP asked.

“She hasn’t even asked me yet,” I whined, getting a slap from her.

“I don’t think we have to do that,” she said.

“When a Hendrickson lady gets engaged, an announcement is placed in the paper,” JP joked, pronouncing that as if he were Emily Post.

“You sound like my mother,” Kristin said. We were having a good time until our lawyer returned, and then things got serious again.

“They have a proposal,” our lawyer said. “They are willing to give you your freedom if you want it, but would prefer that you not file formally. They are willing to welcome you home, and to acknowledge your relationship with Gathan.”

“They’re giving up that easy?” Will asked, echoing what I was thinking.

Our lawyer swallowed nervously. “They are requesting your agreement,” he said to Stefan, “that you will go forward with the purchase of that parcel of land you referred to.”

We all digested that. “They’re selling me,” Kristin pronounced. “I’m a whore.”

“You are being a bit dramatic,” Stef cautioned. “One might take you for a 13-year-old boy.” He glanced at Will, who rolled his eyes.

“Well what would you call it then?”

“The art of the deal,” JP said, shaking his head. “I’d take it. You can think about these implications later.”

“Do I have to live with them? Can I live with them?”

“You can live with them, but you do not have to,” he said. “Again, they stressed that it would be better if you did. My overall impression is that they are worried about appearances.”

“They would be,” she said.

“So basically, you can stay with me until I leave, then go live with them if you want,” I summarized. “And they promise not to pull any more of this bullshit?”

“That is correct,” the lawyer said.

“What about my trust fund?” she asked.

“That is being managed by the trust department of Claremont Commerce Bank. I thought that was probably safe, so I didn’t press the issue,” our lawyer said. “I can, if you want me to.”

“No, that’s fine,” Kristin agreed.

“So all is well that ends well,” JP said pleasantly.

“Don’t kid yourself for one minute,” I told him. “Those people hate me.”

“They don’t hate you,” Kristin said. “Much.” That made me chuckle a bit. In the end, we agreed to the arrangement, thanks to Stef, who had the biggest role there. If it weren’t for the money, they probably wouldn’t have caved.

 

July 30, 2000

Somewhere over Southern California

Will

The Falcon banked gently as it lined up for its final descent into Van Nuys. It contained a flight crew, and two very sad passengers.

“How long until Ella gets to California?” I asked Darius.

“I don’t know. She may wait and drive out with Gathan,” he said morosely.

“Why don’t you go with them?”

He looked at me as he thought about that, and smiled. “Road trip?”

“Yeah. You could bring Kristin along too. The Tahoe is big enough, especially if you shipped most of Gathan’s and Ella’s stuff out here to California, instead of trying to cram it into the SUV.”

“Dude, that’s an awesome idea!” It was so cool to see him light up. He’d been so sad and depressed since we left Claremont it was almost scary.

“I’m kind of surprised that you didn’t just stay there. I mean, it’s not like you do anything anyway,” I said, giving him shit.

“Fuck you.” He looked out the window of the plane. “I have to make that trip to Bakersfield. Maybe we can go up there Tuesday.”

“Whenever you want,” I said. “You know, I don’t think there’s any greater proof that I love you than going to Bakersfield with you.”

“Yeah, it’s not exactly paradise.” That was an understatement.

“What are we driving? Your Jeep?” Darius had a 1999 Jeep Grand Cherokee, just like a good Schluter boy should. Darius was kind of like that; he was into family traditions. Since Schluters used to buy only Chrysler products, he got a Jeep.

“Probably,” he said, then got an evil grin. “Why? You thinking we should borrow the Ferrari?”

“I’m thinking,” I said, grinning back at him.

“You think Pop would let us?”

“I think he’d let you,” I told him. “He loves you best.”

“I am well-loved,” he joked, cracking me up. We were still laughing when the wheels touched down. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

“Dude, you did the same for me,” I said. “Let’s go home.”

The ride to Malibu seemed to take forever, even though there wasn’t much traffic. I kept looking out at the ocean, and now that I was close to it, I felt an uncontrollable urge to go surfing.

“It’s calling your name,” Darius said, following my gaze.

“I’m jonesing so bad,” I said. “I think I have the DTs.” He laughed with me.

“You surfed in Rome.”

“That was a blast, but the waves were lame,” I told him. “It’s like when we go to Aspen. The waves in Rome were like the bunny slope.”

We pulled up to the house and both of us tore out of the limo and rushed inside. I was kind of disappointed, because no one was waiting for us. I guess I’d expected a welcoming committee, which was pretty arrogant of me. In fact, it seemed like only Rosa was home.

“You have grown while you were gone!” Rosa said, giving me a big hug.

“Ya think?” I asked her. She was awesome. “Where is everyone else?”

“They are working, to pay my enormous salary,” she joked. She could usually make us laugh. “JJ is skating, as usual. Your mother is with him. Mr. Robbie is working out, and Mr. Brad is surfing.”

One of my favorite things in the world to do was surf with my dad. We had such a good time. When I surf with my friends, they’re either not as good as me, which makes it less fun, or they’re super-competitive, which makes it kind of intense. “I’m so there,” I said, and ran down to the beach level, where we kept our surf stuff. I had my clothes almost completely torn off by the time I got there, and pulled my wetsuit on in record time.

I was carrying my board down to the beach when I caught sight of my dad out in the surf, just as he caught a killer wave. I was usually with him, so I didn’t get to watch him all that much. He was completely focused as he carved it up, playing with this monster wave, then he did his favorite thing: he shot the tube. It was amazing to see him vanish into the wave as it curled over him, only catching glimpses of him as he advanced just ahead of where it was breaking. I was trying to gauge whether he’d make it out before it broke or not when he picked up his speed and flew out, then rode the wave close to the shore.

He must have felt eyes on him, because he looked up and saw me as I reached the edge of the surf. It was so cool to see how happy he was, how his whole face lit up just because I was there. As soon as the waves pushed him close to the shore, he jumped up, undid the tether to his board, then charged over to me and pulled me into a big hug. “You’re home! I missed you!”

“I missed you too. That was one awesome ride you just had!”

“Did you see?” He was like a kid. “Dude, I rode that bitch all the way in.”

“You rock,” I joked. “Let’s go!” I grabbed my board and raced him back into the water, and we spent the next two hours having an absolute blast in the waves. Then the swells died down to the point where it was getting frustrating, so we decided to go in and get something to eat.

“I was going to go down to the airport to get you guys, but the waves called me,” he said.

“Now that I can totally understand. Did you hear that I went surfing in Rome?”

“With a very handsome Italian guy,” he said, giving me a knowing look.

“Berto,” I said. “He’s awesome.”

“Stef told me about him, but said that you and I have something to talk about,” he said.

“I’m surprised you waited this long to ask me about that,” I joked. He hated secrets; he hated not knowing what was going on.

“It was your drama or the waves. I figured the drama would wait.”

“Will it wait until I shower?” I asked.

“I’ll meet you on the patio in twenty minutes,” he said, pretending to be all anal-retentive about the time. I went upstairs to my room and took a shower, tossed on some shorts and a T-shirt, then went back down to face the music for my strip-tease. And to get something to eat: I was fucking starving. Fortunately, he’d already taken care of that, as Rosa had laid out some food for us. I sat down at the table and started stuffing sandwiches in my mouth.

“So what was Stef so nervous about?” he asked.

“I met this guy, Berto, and he was so amazing,” I said, while trying to chew at the same time. I knew I needed to give him the whole context, so I told him all about Berto, and about our tour of Rome.

“It sounds like he healed a lot of your wounds,” he said to me. He was being remarkably patient.

“I slept with him,” I told him. “He was my first.”

I watched him struggle with that, with wanting me to be all safe and pure, while knowing at the same time that I was going to have sex. “How was it?”

“It was alright,” I said. “I only bottomed twice. It wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be, and it wasn’t as much fun for me as it was for him.”

“I’ve found that I like to top better,” he said, really opening up to me. “That works because of how, uh, well-endowed I am.”

“Size queens love you,” I joked.

“They do,” he said, laughing. “Bottoming can be fun too, but I have to really be into the guy to enjoy it.”

“I was into him, but it hurt at first, and then when it didn’t, it just didn’t give me the rush that he seemed to get.”

“You’re still young. You probably need to develop more,” he said, trying not to sound patronizing. “If he’s, uh, big, that can make it tougher.”

It was my turn to laugh. “He wasn’t big at all. Maybe that’s why I decided to give it up.” I decided to freak him out. “Maybe I just need to find a guy with a really big dick.”

He frowned, which made me laugh. “I think you should focus on the guy, and not his dick.”

“Some gay guy you are,” I teased.

“I lost my gay card a long time ago when I let on that I didn’t like show tunes,” he said, cracking me up. I sang a few bars of “Oklahoma” just to make him laugh harder. When we were done laughing, he got serious again. “You were safe weren’t you?”

“Of course I was safe,” I said, a little annoyed.

“Look, I know you know the deal with safe sex, but humor me on this, OK? If I wouldn’t have asked you, I would have worried about it forever.”

“Yeah, I got it. We were safe. Do you think I can go back to Rome later in the summer?”

“Hold on,” he said, slowing me down. “None of this was what Stef was upset about.”

“Yeah, sex is something he’s pretty into,” I joked, but he was done with the preamble. It was time to address the elephant in the room. “I went to this club, a gay club.”

“Stef let you go there?” he asked, pissed off.

I gave him a really dirty look. “He did. He made me promise not to go into the back room, and I pretty much honored that agreement.”

“Pretty much?” he asked, getting upset.

“Will you calm down and listen?” I demanded. “One of Berto’s friends got roofied. He was in the back room. I went back there to help carry him out. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, that’s it for the back room.” He looked at me intently. “I entered a pole dancing contest.”

“You entered a pole dancing contest?”

“Well, actually I won the pole dancing contest,” I said. I saw him struggle again, wanting to laugh, but worried that he shouldn’t.

“What were you wearing?” he asked.

“Stef bought me these nasty club clothes. The pants were tight, and the shirt was tighter,” I told him.

“And you wore these the whole time you were pole dancing?” he asked dubiously.

“No, that’s what I was wearing when I started.”

“What were you wearing when you finished?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“You entered a stripping contest?” he asked, really fired up now.

“That’s another way to phrase it,” I said.

“You stripped down and pranced around naked in front of an entire gay club?” he demanded.

“Pretty much,” I said sheepishly. “Does it matter that I did it for charity?”

“Will, stripping at a gay club is hardly social work,” he said severely.

“I don’t know. I raised a whole bunch of lire, and it was pretty social,” I joked, trying to take the edge off our conversation. It didn’t work.

“And Stef let you do this?”

“He didn’t know I was going to enter the contest. He thought I was going there to watch Berto, and to have a good time. This is not his fault,” I said emphatically. “There is no way you’re going to make this an issue with him.” He gave me a really dirty look, but I think I got through.

“So how did he find out?”

“He was there,” I told him.

“He didn’t stop you when you went up on the stage?”

“Well, I didn’t see him before then. I only saw him at the end of my, uh, performance.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, but this is kind of embarrassing,” I said, pleading with him for a little compassion. He seemed to get where I was coming from, which didn’t surprise me, since he usually clicked with my moods pretty well. Well, except for the shit we’d dealt with earlier in the summer.

“You’re asking me to calm down?” he demanded, but there was a playful lilt to his voice.

“Yeah.”

“Fine. Go on.”

“I was dancing around the pole and I got kind of, uh, excited.”

“Excited?”

“Yeah,” I said, blushing furiously. “You know. Excited.”

He looked upward in frustration. “I got it. You were excited.”

“I leaned back and Berto kissed me, and that sort of set off my fuse.”

“You came? You came while you were dancing?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking down. “Right after I was done, I looked over Berto’s shoulder and saw Stef scowling at me.”

I looked up to face him and saw him struggling with his emotions. I thought he was going to be all pissed off, but then he started laughing. “So you were stripping, you got too into it and shot your load, and the first thing you see after that is Stef’s face?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s almost punishment enough. That must have been pretty embarrassing.”

“It was. That and knowing that I’d have to tell you about it.”

“He made you tell me,” he said.

“I would have told you anyway,” I snapped. He looked at me dubiously. “I would have. I didn’t have to tell you that I fucked Berto, did I?”

“I guess not.”

“So you said that was almost punishment enough. What’s that mean?” I wanted to know what kind of penance I had to serve.

“I think a trip back to Rome this summer is pretty unreasonable, don’t you?” he asked.

“I really miss him, Dad,” I whined. I saw that irritate him; he hated whining. “I almost sounded like Pop, didn’t I?” I joked.

He smiled. “Almost.” He thought for a minute. “We’ll leave the Rome trip off the table for now. But I think that what you can do is some community service.”

“Like I’m a criminal?”

“Will, community service is something we’re obligated to do. It’s not a punishment. I think it will do you good to spend more time helping people who are less fortunate than we are.”

“I already do that,” I said. “I go down to the Mission and volunteer at least twice a month.”

“Well now you can do it more often,” he said. He must have forgotten that I was going to be in Palo Alto for the rest of the month.

“Fine,” I said. Even if I did get stuck working at the Mission, it wasn’t really tough duty, but it would cut into my surfing time. “That’s fair.”

“You can start on Tuesday,” he said. “That gives you tomorrow to surf.”

“I have plans Tuesday,” I told him.

“Plans?”

“I’m going to Bakersfield with Darius,” I said. “I told him I’d go with him if Pop let us take the Ferrari.” I tossed that in, hoping it would work.

“Darius is going to Bakersfield?” he asked me. “I didn’t think he was going to do that.”

“What’s this all about?” I asked, sensing this was a much bigger deal than I’d first guessed.

“He can tell you,” he said firmly.

“Are you going to tell Mom about my stripping career in Italy?”

“I think you should tell her,” he said.

“Can you do it for me? It’s pretty embarrassing.”

“I’ll tell her and Pop,” he said.

“How’s Pop?”

“He’s doing better,” Dad said. “I think if he can get over what happened to you, he’ll be able to put a lot of this stuff behind him.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I said.