Author's note:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This is also a story that eventually includes graphic sexual scenes mainly of a homosexual nature but, where appropriate to the story, also of heterosexual and bisexual encounters. If you are underage or it is illegal for you to read such writing, stop now. For those of you who are continuing, be further warned that this is a novel with plot, character development and has a very, very slow introduction to the sexual elements of the story. If you're looking for a stroke piece you need to look elsewhere.
The author reserves all rights to this story but will allow others to repost this work to any free Internet sites that wish to use it as long as full credit to the writer is given.
New addition to authors note:
When I posted Chapter One I said that although I probably couldn't respond, I would welcome all emails. Another author wrote to me and pointed out how unfair of me to expect feedback with no promise of acknowledgment. I apologize for this. It was not my intent to make anyone think I was uninterested in what they have to say. Actually, I always had every intention of responding to any and all comments or criticism, I just wasn't sure if I'd be able to do so in a timely manner and I thought it would be better to say I might not answer rather than have anybody think I was ignoring them. Obviously, I was wrong. So I promise, if anybody out there is reading this and wants to talk to me about it, I'll answer them. And to those of you who already have, thank you, I know I've said it to you all personally, but it means a great deal to me that you like this story.
jfinn
The Human Condition
Chapter Two
The alarm went off for the third and last time. If I hit the snooze again it would automatically shut itself off. I had the choice of resetting it completely or getting up. I swore softly and sat upright.
Joe didn't move a muscle. It was amazing to me that he never heard the buzz that damn clock made. Especially, when he always seemed to manage to wake up on time whenever I wasn't around. I looked at him. Yep, still sleeping like a baby. That is, if the baby in question looked like a matinee idol.
A breeze from the open window tugged at the curtain. The movement caught my eye and I watched the material billow and catch on the frame of a picture of us taken almost three years ago to the day. God, has it really been that long? At thirty three, I was becoming increasingly aware of the speed at which my days seemed to move. But, I sighed contentedly, they were full days and rich with the life I had been so fortunate to have been given.
I looked back at my sleeping lover. The movement of the curtain had allowed a shaft of sunlight to enter the room. It fell over Joe's body, but he was still oblivious. I traced the play of light and shadow on the planes of his face with my eyes. His morning beard gleamed gold on his tanned skin. His lips were red and slightly swollen from our early morning love making, parted just enough to show the hint of very white teeth. His lids were closed and hid those bright blue eyes I loved so much, but there was movement under the skin. I hoped the dream was of me.
Carefully, I slipped from between the silk sheets I'd made so much fun of when my sister had given them to us the previous Christmas. I wondered now if she could ever imagine the pleasure we'd found in them. The thought made me grin. Knowing Sarah, she probably had a half a dozen sets herself and no doubt knew first hand what a turn on they were.
I stood and stretched, lazy and naked. The wind blew again through the window and the drape shook rattling the frame of the picture that had captured it. I went to the wall and carefully untangled the curtain. After a moment's consideration, I removed the picture from the nail and placed it carefully on the dresser. Some memories are so important that extra precautions should be used to protect them.
Joe stirred and murmured on the bed. I looked back at him. His eyes were open but he looked as if he were still wavering between sleep and full consciousness.
His eyes shifted as he took in my state of undress.
"Mmmm," he said softly, "your wearing my favorite outfit."
I laughed.
"Come back to bed." He patted the covers invitingly.
"Nope. It's 8:30. Time to start the day. Get up."
"Aw come on Dad," he smiled a sleepy smile, "just five more minutes."
I rolled my eyes, but I knew I wasn't going to push it.
"Okay, I'll take my shower first, but then you've got to get moving."
"You're a real nag sometimes, you know that?" Joe rolled over on his side and grimaced.
But I noticed as I headed to the bathroom that he'd grabbed my pillow and was breathing in my scent. A wave of tenderness washed over me and it left me breathless and I leaned into the door frame remembering.
We had been together over 10 years now, and the day to day grind had taken its toll as it does on all couples. There were periods when we took each other for granted, others when we bickered and even days where we couldn't stand the sight of each other. But then there were moments like now. When my heart would race because I'd heard his key in the lock. When he'd follow me from room to room as if he couldn't bear to be out of my sight. When our bodies demanded the touch of the only person who could truly satisfy them. These were the moments we cherished. The memories they created saw us through the bad times.
It seems impossible to me now that I ever doubted this man I love so dearly. But it was true. And once, for a couple of very painful days, I didn't believe we could even be friends...
Thanksgiving Day, 1985
I hadn't slept the night before or the night before that. All I could think of was Joe's face as he'd looked at me for the last time. I tried to tell myself it was just as well that our friendship was over. It would've caused nothing but problems for both of us. You can imagine how well that worked. By turkey morning, I was having a full blown pity party.
Sandy, one of the nurses, came in and gave me a bath. She droned on and on about Thanksgiving and what a shame it was that I had to spend it here. I wanted to strangle her. Talk about a lousy bedside manner. Finally, to save her life, I ordered her out of the room. As she left, I could swear I heard her laughing. I'd never realized what a bitch she could be!
I dozed, ate, read, but I was restless. The day stretched ahead endlessly. Because it was a holiday, there wouldn't be any treatments or physical therapy. I hated that stuff, trust me, but at least it had been giving some definition to my days. I didn't even have a roommate. I'd been moved out of the Burn Unit a few days before and into a semi, but with the holiday everybody who could possibly be discharged had gone home.
I flipped on the TV. There was a parade on every channel. I knew there'd be some games on later, but for obvious reasons, I wasn't really up for football. I put on a robe and went out in the hall but there wasn't anybody around. The patients who'd stayed were generally too sick to be mobile and the nurses must have been with them.
I was only here because I had fresh skin grafts that needed tending. My burns had been, for the most part, superficial. All except for my right hand. At first, there'd been a possibility I'd lose it. But with excellent care, and an amazing amount of luck, it looked like it would heal with only minimal loss of function. I'd need additional surgery down the road, but the doctors were optimistic. I guess it's amazing how well the recuperative process works in a healthy 18 year old.
If my family had been close enough, my doctor would probably have even let me go home for the day. And I had to admit that even though I wasn't on the greatest terms with the parental units, it would have been better than being stuck here.
I went back to my room. I thought about beating off. I'd been able to manage that again in the last few days, but my burns still hurt and I had to be really horny to be willing to put up with the discomfort. With a sigh I lay back down and closed my eyes.
I must have slept. I opened my eyes to the sound of a commotion in the hallway. Must be some emergency, I thought groggily. I glanced at the clock, 1 PM. Oh God, this day was never going to end. My door flung open and my 7 year old brother, Rob, catapulted into the room.
"Surprise!" He screamed as he threw himself on the bed.
I looked past him to see the rest of my family and what looked like the entire staff of the hospital, including Sandy the bitch, standing in my doorway. Everybody had these huge grins on their faces as they took in the look of shock on my own mug.
"What?" My father boomed. "You really thought we were going to let you spend Thanksgiving alone?"
I started to cry. I couldn't help it. All the loneliness and hurt I thought I'd buried, erupted. Intellectually, I knew my parents still loved me, but it had been a long time since I'd felt emotionally connected to my family. It had never occurred to me they'd really want to be with me today, but here they were. I buried my face in my pillow as my shoulders started to shake.
They room got suddenly silent and I felt Rob slide from the bed only to have his weight replaced with a heavier, softer body whose scent I've known since the day I was born. My mother's warm hands rubbed my back until I turned. She pulled me to her and stroked my hair as I continued to cry, soaking her blouse.
"Shhh baby," she crooned, "Mom's here now, and everything is going to be okay."
Damned if I didn't believe her. It took me a few minutes to compose myself though I saw no reason to take my head away from the comfort of her breast. We sat there in silence, tied together in that unfathomable bond mothers have had with their children since Adam and Eve had their first kid.
"Where'd everybody else go?" I finally said.
"Down to the car, to get dinner." She replied matter of factly.
"What?" I lifted my head. "Don't tell me you hauled a turkey from Pennsylvania?"
"Of course." Mom said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Your dad went over to Mr. Schwartz's, you know him, he has that catering business. He and your dad have become such good friends after that business at the lodge..."
"Mom!" She has a tendency to get off the subject. "You're doing it again."
"Okay, your father borrowed some of those containers that keep food hot or cold and yesterday I cooked and we loaded them up and after your dad got home we just hopped in the car and here we are."
My father has his own hardware store and he always works 8-7, five days a week, with an extra 5 on Saturdays for good measure. That meant, that after a 11 hour day, he'd been willing to get in a car and drive all the way to Michigan to see me. I couldn't believe it.
"We stopped in Ohio for the night but your father made everybody get up at 5 AM to get back on the road." She laughed. "I don't think Sarah is ever going to forgive him."
My 14 year old sister was, and still is for that matter, a famous bed hound.
"I can't believe you did this."
I spoke the words carelessly, but at the sound of them my mother's soft stroking of my back stilled.
"I wish it wasn't so hard for you to understand." She said sadly.
"Well Hell," my father's voice boomed from the doorway, "this looks just like an episode of The Walton's I saw once."
I reluctantly sat up and smiled at him.
"Hey Dad."
Like I said before, I got my olive coloring and build from my old man but I'm a good five inches taller and he's ten pounds heavier. His hair is still black and curly though, with only a little bit of silver at the edges. His face is big and open with droopy brown eyes and a cute pug nose that looks kinda silly on such a big tough Italian stallion. The family name was originally Rossetti, until my grandfather decided if we were going to live in America we needed an American name, as if there were such a thing.
The Zimmerman's, my mom's family are, like almost everybody else in our small town, of German descent. They are narrow faced with hooded eyes and lipless mouths. I inherited the first two features but not the last, thank god. My mom is a shorter softer version of her family's ancestry but she is saved from their normal severity by her mouth which she got from her mother. It is wide and lush and she was kind enough to pass it on to me.
My siblings, Sarah, Rob and eleven year old Andy are an unmatched mix of the two families. Sarah is blonde, Rob is dark, Andy has red hair, though God knows where that came from. None of us really match each other but when you get us all together, you can definitely see we're related.
As I was mulling over genetic traits, the rest of my family had poured back in the room depositing boxes of food on every available surface and were now trying to make a makeshift table out of the spare bed. God knows, if the mattress was as hard as the one I was lying on, it could work. I missed the burn unit's water beds. A few minutes later we were all standing around the "table" with me wrapped in a sheet, toga style, while my father prepared to say grace.
"Dear Lord..." he cleared his throat and started again.
"Dear Lord, Thank you for this amazing bounty we are about to share. Thank you even more for the opportunity you have given us to reunite once again. Today we celebrate the strength and love we will always have as long as we remember that anywhere we can be together is enough to make a place home. And we pray that you never let us forget that being part of a family is the greatest blessing in life. Amen."
For my Dad, that was quite a speech. My eyes filled again. My mother leaned across the makeshift table and stroked my arm. Sarah and the boys looked embarrassed and my father looked at me critically. For a long moment, nobody knew what to say.
"Hell son," my Dad finally broke the silence, "I'd die for you. In comparison to that, coming to Michigan was relatively easy!"
Everybody laughed and suddenly it was like the last couple years faded into the past. I was a part of this family, Dammit!
I told them about school, they filled me in on all the gossip from town, I teased Sarah, about her new boyfriend and Andy about Mindy Finkbinder, who'd had a crush on him from the first day of kindergarten. Through it all, we stuffed ourselves until Dad undid his pants and only Rob was interested in what was for dessert.
Dad and Sarah went out to get us some coffee, taking a couple of shoofly pies with them for the nurses. The rest of us tried to clear up some of the mess.
Rob found a can of whipped cream in one of the bags and proceeded to squirt it in his mouth, his cheeks getting bigger and bigger until the foam started to leak out making him look like a rabid dog. Andy tried to grab the can and Rob shot him with a thick stream of the stuff and hit him right between the eyes. Andy tackled him and my mother started bitching and I was laughing when the phone rang.
I picked up the receiver and shouted into it to make myself heard over the screaming.
"Yeah?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone, or maybe I just wasn't able to hear because of the noise. I covered the mouthpiece with my hand.
"Hey, shut up you morons." I yelled at my brothers. "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
They quieted down to a dull roar and I went back to my mystery caller.
"Sorry about that," I said, "a pack of wild animals invaded my room and I can't find my whip or gun."
"Mike?" I got suddenly very still as I recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. My mother stopped trying to pry my brothers apart and looked at me strangely.
"Hi Joe." I finally managed to croak out.
Instantly, my brothers forgot about trying to kill each other and ran to my side.
"Is that Joe Lassiter?" Andy asked me. "Let me say hi to him."
"You talked to him last time!" Rob whined. "It's my turn."
"Why would he want to talk to a little kid like you?" Andy asked him scornfully.
My mother came over and grabbed both boys and hustled them off to the other side of the room.
I was only dimly aware of any of this, you understand. My whole being was concentrated on what the man on the other side of the phone was saying. Unfortunately it wasn't much.
"Happy Thanksgiving." Joe sounded stiff.
"Thanks dude." I replied eagerly.
I was so happy to hear his voice, I was like some wiggly puppy hearing his master's voice. If I'd had a tail I think I'd have wagged it.
"Same to you."
"Er, thanks." He said still sounding unsure of himself.
My imaginary tail stopped waiving.
"I'm glad you called." I said more quietly. Aware now that the room around me had quieted and I had an avid audience.
"Yeah, well, my family is here and they were wondering how the surprise went." He went on in a dull tone.
His family, I thought. Of course, Joe had told his family about me before our fight. Naturally, they'd ask him about me now. I imagined he'd decided it would be better to not tell them about my confession and pretend we were still friends. Later, he could just say that we'd drifted apart after I'd gotten better.
The imaginary tail, was now firmly between my legs.
"So how was it?"
It took me a moment to have his question sink in. "You knew."
I finally dawned on me that of course Joe would know about my parent's decision to spend Thanksgiving here. Hell, he'd probably orchestrated the whole thing.
"Your dad called me last week. Asked for the name of a motel." He explained.
"You never said a thing."
"That's why it's called a surprise."
Some of the bounce came back in his voice. I think he noticed too because he pulled back.
"So was it a good one?" Once again his tone was flat.
I looked at my brothers grinning at me, Mom holding on to their collars to keep them by her side. Dad had come back and was leaning in the doorway balancing cups of coffee. Sarah stood beside him, practicing looking cool.
"Yeah," I said softly, "it was a good one."
My mom let go of my brothers and they shot across room, but she was right behind them. She lifted her hand above their heads and tapped my arm.
"Give me that phone." She whispered urgently and I did as she ordered.
"Joe, this is Susan Ross."
She listened for a moment a grin lighting up her face.
"Well the same to you young man. Listen, I just wanted to thank you for all the trouble you've gone through for us. It makes me feel so much better to know that Michael has such a good friend when he's so far from home. I hope some day we can meet, so I can thank you properly."
I could feel my face flush. Like that was ever going to happen. Joe was too nice a guy to tell my mother how he really felt about me, but I knew there was no way he'd ever be meeting her.
"Now I hope you don't mind," my mother continued, "but there are a couple of football crazy boys here who'd like to say hi to you."
"Mom!"
Andy and Rob both moaned in mutual mortification, but when she handed the receiver to them their enthusiasm overcame their humiliation. As they took turns talking, Mom grabbed my hand and walked me over to the window.
"When we decided to surprise you, your Dad called Joe to get a recommendation for a motel. Joe said he'd get back to him, but when he did he said he had a friend, a girl, who was going to be out of town for the holidays and was willing to let us use her apartment."
"Betsy?" I guessed.
"That's right." She looked pleased. "You know her too?"
"She's a nurse here and..."
Mom cut me off with a waive of her hand.
"Anyway, she sent us the key so we're staying there tonight and after we stop in to see you in the morning we'll head on back home." Her bottom lip quivered. "I wish we could stay longer."
I gathered her into my arms awkwardly. It hurt my burns, but it felt so good otherwise.
"I wish you could too." I kissed her on the cheek. "But Christmas is only a month away and I'll be home then."
I never knew those words could sound so wonderful. She leaned back and poked me in the shoulder.
"You better be."
I smiled at her and gave her an extra squeeze, then I looked over to where my Dad was now taking a turn on the phone. I wanted to talk to Joe again, but I was afraid to at the same time. I listened to my father's voice.
"Just so long as you kick those Buckeye's asses. I can't stand those bastards!"
He looked at my little sister and covered the receiver.
"Sarah, do you want to say hi?"
She shook her head so hard I thought she was going to dislocate her neck.
"Oh my God Dad!" Her voice was horrified at even the suggestion that she would do anything that uncool.
I could tell though that she was dying to talk to the gorgeous quarterback and I had to pretend to cough to cover my laugh. My dad shrugged and turned back to the phone.
"There's someone else in the room who'd love to talk to you, but she's pretending she's shy."
Sarah groaned and ran from the room. Dad looked at me and winked.
"Uh huh, well I'll be sure and tell her that, if I can ever get her out of whatever bathroom she's locked herself into."
He listened to something on the other end of the phone and laughed.
"You're right, torturing your children is one of the perks of parenthood."
He started to waive me over, then held up his hand to stop me.
"Oh you have to go? Sure, I understand, I'll tell him goodbye for you. And thanks again son."
He hung up the phone and looked at me.
"His family was getting ready sit down to eat. He said to tell you goodbye."
I nodded. There was a lump in my throat the size of the turkey we'd just demolished. I knew perfectly well that Joe was just using dinner as an excuse not to talk to me again.
To Hell with it, I thought. Today had been a great day and my parents didn't deserve to see me moping around over something I'd brought on myself.
Surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to put Joe out of my mind and enjoy myself. Dad and the boys and I stretched out on the beds and watched TV, flipping channels to catch as many games as we could find. Sarah and Mom stuck it out for as long as they could, then split to some chick flick at the Quad, in the mall. When they came back, we all had turkey and cranberry sandwiches and a sampling of the half dozen or so pies Mom always made for the holidays because nobody could agree on which were their favorites.
Afterwards, we watched the tube some more. This time it was Mom's turn to choose and she picked some mushy thing by Hallmark. The male contingency bitched, of course, but secretly we all liked it and everybody watched till the tear jerking end. Everybody except Rob, who had finally overloaded his circuits with his fourth piece of pie and had succumbed to a sugar induced coma.
It was time for my family to leave. They'd already repacked the boxes, and the leftovers were stowed in the nurse's lounge refrigerator, so it was just a matter of boots and hats and getting Rob to wake up long enough to shove his rubbery arms into his parka so he didn't freeze to death.
My dad picked the kid up, gave me a knock on the shoulder and headed out to get the car warmed up. Sarah and Andy waived at the door and followed behind him. I was back in my own uncomfortable bed and my mother walked over and automatically started to tuck me in. When she saw me grin, she raised her eyebrows and smiled.
"Sorry," she laughed, "old habits are hard to break." She got serious again.
"You're still my baby you know."
She reached out and stroked my cheek.
"You always will be. I'll always worry about you and love you and want the best for you. Nothing can ever change that."
"I'm glad to hear it."
I reached up and covered her hand and squeezed it.
"Whatever makes you happy is okay by me." She continued.
"Thanks." I could hardly hear my own response.
"You're a good person Michael. A pain in the butt sometimes, but a good person."
I laughed at that one and she smiled.
"If you want," she said a little too nonchalantly, "you can invite that friend of yours to visit over the holidays."
My mouth dropped open. That was as close as my Mom would ever get to coming right out and saying I could bring my lover home. The only problem was, I didn't have one. I cocked an eyebrow at her.
"He seems like such a nice boy when I talk to him. I'm sure he'd fit in with the rest of the family."
She continued oblivious to the reaction she was causing in my head.
Jesus, she thought Joe and I were lovers! I couldn't stand it, suddenly the whole mess struck me as incredibly funny. I grinned till I thought my face would split.
"Mom," laughter underlining my voice, "I hate to break it to you, but Joe Lassiter is not gay."
"He's not?" The woman actually sounded disappointed.
"Nope." I shook my head sadly. "Not even a little bit. The apartment you're staying in tonight, that belongs to his girlfriend."
"I thought you said it was a nurse's apartment?" She didn't seem to want to believe me.
"It is. Betsy is a nurse here," I paused for effect, "and she's Joe's lover."
"Oh." She let the information sink in. "Well Hell, invite him anyway. He still sounds nice."
She kissed me while I was still laughing and walked out the door. My Mom, ya gotta love her.
Fifteen minutes later my phone rang. I groaned as I tried to drag myself out of the depths of the sleep that had claimed me almost as soon as my family had left. I fumbled for the receiver. It had to be my Mom again. Another one of her habits was never going anywhere without leaving something behind.
"What did you forget?" I said into the mouthpiece with a fake, long-suffering sigh.
There was a surprised silence on the other end. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle and started to wake up. Only my family and one other person had this number, something I'd forgotten when the phone had rung the first time.
"I forgot to apologize." Joe finally said in a matter of fact voice.
"I thought you were my Mom." I said inanely.
"I didn't know there was a resemblance." He joked.
It was lame joke, but a wave of relieve rushed over me. If he could joke, maybe he could forgive. Then what he'd first said suddenly sunk into my turkey soaked brain.
"Wait a minute." I shook my head, trying to clear it. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who lied to you, remember?"
"True."
He agreed a little too readily for my piece of mind.
"But then I acted like a total asshole."
He waited like he expected an answer, but I couldn't think of anything to say.
"Feel free to disagree." He said finally.
"No,"
I was feeling better and better about this conversation.
"I think you pretty much said it all."
"Yeah well, I talked to Josh about what happened..." He continued tiredly.
"You told your brother?" I interrupted.
"Well of course I did."
Joe responded as if I'd just said something stupid. I kept forgetting, this guy was a twin, he shared everything with his brother.
"And he said he admired you for having the courage to tell me at all."
"Well, it wasn't like it was a big secret." I was trying to be fair.
"That's what I told him." Joe agreed. "But he said that didn't matter. What was important was that you faced me with it even though you were fully aware of all the consequences. Sometimes I hate the God Damned Jesuits, you know?"
I grinned. Actually, I didn't know, we may have been half Italian but we were 100% Lutheran. However, anything that would repair my friendship with Joe was okay in my book.
"Then he called me a real jerk off and told me the only behavior I should be concerned with was mine, and since up to now, it hasn't been too good, I should be concerned a lot." He sighed. "The worst part was, he was right. I was acting like a selfish prick."
"It's okay." I protested.
"No, it's not." Joe disagreed. "I never even thought about how hard it was on you to have to tell me something I was too oblivious to figure out on my own. Why the Hell should I've expected you to have told me sooner? Are you supposed to be required to walk up to everyone you meet and say 'Glad to meet you, I'm gay.'? Or maybe you should wear a pink armband or a tutu or something?"
"Now there's a thought." I said dryly.
"Yeah," he agreed glumly, "and I wish I'd never said it because now I've got this picture in my head..."
I burst out laughing.
"Trust me, it's not pretty!" He protested, but he was laughing too.
"The point is," he said, serious again, "that it doesn't really matter that you're gay."
"Joe..." I started to disagree.
"Okay, okay it matters, but it doesn't have to matter to us, to our friendship, right?"
"But it's still going to be there," I cautioned, "it's part of who I am."
"Yeah, I know that and we'll deal with it."
He thought a minute.
"The thing is, I don't want to be one of those guys who only picks his friends because they're good for his image or they carry the right cache."
I winced at that one; but I knew he was right.
"I'm not stupid Mike and neither are you."
He really did seem to have the ability to read my mind.
"We both know that I'm probably going to take some flack for hanging around with a gay guy and you'll get hassled too. But I'm game if you are."
I considered what he'd just said. He was right, we'd both take a lot of heat for this, at least for a while. But that didn't worry me as much as what I hadn't confessed. How would he feel about our being friends, if he knew how much I loved him?
I shook my head. It didn't matter because, that was one thing I was never going to tell him.
"So are you?" He asked.
"Am I what?" I pulled myself away from my thoughts.
"Oh for Christ's sake you don't make things easy do you?"
He snorted.
"Are you willing to be my friend again?"
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.
"Of course." If friendship was all he had to offer, then that was what I'd take.
Authors comments: I've had an unbelievable response to Chapter One and I hope this one lived up to your expectations. I know some of you will be disappointed because there's no sex in this chapter, but cheer up, Chapter Three might prove a little bit more interesting to you. I'll post it next Sunday. Thanks again for all your encouragement. jfinn