Dan and Ben at Fifty-five

Dan and Ben at Fifty-five--Chapter Six By Ezra Randle

Dan was on the last leg of the flight from Denver to Tucson. He opened his novel again, thinking he could divert his weariness and anxiety with this adventure in words, but the photo of his father, book marking his page, greeted him. When he received it a week ago, his father's note had simply said: "A recent photo at a gathering down the road. Some of my friends forced me to acknowledge I was turning 82. Look forward to seeing you."

But he assumed that what his father really intended was to ensure that he recognized this phantom after not seeing him for half a lifetime. He wanted the same, wished heartily that this image on paper combined with the voice that had become so familiar in phone conversations over the past month, would recreate a reality that had vanished on that evening when he was seventeen. His father called him in Denver, letting him know he wouldn't be at the airport. His friend Chester would pick him up. He'd be wearing a Chicago White Sox baseball cap and holding a sign welcoming him to town.

He recognized the man right away. Chester introduced himself and gave Dan an embrace. He was wearing loose fitting shorts, flip-flops, and a t-shirt that said, "Hola. And Welcome to Paradise."

Chester looked seventy and in very good shape despite having a burly figure, not much different than Ben's. He had a short cropped greying beard and when he removed his cap in the car, his head was mostly bald though he had let it grow out an inch along the base of his hairless skull. He was a very good looking man and quite masculine. "I'm your sort of host for the weekend. Your dad has asked me to help out in any way I can. You're staying with Robert and me." And then Chester paused. "Did your dad tell you about us?"

"That you are his two best friends who check in on him every day."

Chester laughed. "OK. Very clever. I only mention it because your brother has a big issue with us. Like somehow we led your father astray."

"Wait a minute. Too much information. I know you're gay, and I have zero problems with that. I'm not sure what you mean regarding Darren's accusations."

"O, shit. Sorry. Larry, I mean your dad, told me to keep things on the down low until you have your talk."

"Is Dad gay?"

"Yes. Will you pretend you don't know when you talk to him? He thinks you will be shocked. There's a lot more to his story, but I will save that for him."

Despite the many conversations he'd had with himself over the past few weeks about this possibility, to now hear it spoken about so openly amazed Dan. "Were either you or Robert his partner?"

Chester laughed. "No. Not even close. By the time we became friends, he was firmly attached to his lifetime lover. Leslie. He passed on a few years ago."

Chester pulled up in front of his dad's condo building. "I'm going in with you, Dan. Just to break the ice."

They stood at the doorway for a few seconds, gazing at the names on the dozen units in this wing of Casa Felicidad. Chester pointed one out: Larry Morse, #216. The number was penciled into his memory from recent letters, but the urgency of the moment now made him weak-kneed. He made himself speak when his father's voice rang out, "Dad, it's Dan."

He and Chester carried his luggage down the hall from the elevator. The door was open and he immediately he saw the man who looked the same as the smiling figure in the photo at his most recent birthday celebration, but who was nearly a complete stranger in every other way. Dan offered his hand and his dad took it and held it with double-fisted vigor that minimized his age. "Please, come in."

Chester said, "Are you sure you don't want to come down for supper?"

"We can handle this. But I'll walk him down later. Thanks for getting him," his dad said.

Chester left and Dan moved into the combination dining and living room. Father and son stared at each. Dan smiled because he knew he had to, but he still had no assurance that what was about to happen would bring him joy. The first thing he noticed was the music, Ella Fitzgerald singing Ellington, songs he had listened to many times over the past twenty years. Then he smelled the tomato sauce steaming in the small kitchen to their left. "What are you cooking?"

"I took a chance. I remembered you liked spaghetti when you were little, so I made some sauce."

"Smells good. Do you cook for yourself very often?"

"I love to, but one recipe lasts for days, unless I'm cooking for guests, which doesn't happen that often. You didn't eat, by the way?"

"Nothing since Denver."

"You must be in need of some exercise as well after sitting all day. Interested in a stroll?"

"Sure."

"Good. I put off my late afternoon walk thinking you would."

He followed his father down the steps, amused and pleased to see him avoid the elevator, and then they were outside moving easily, his father maintaining a steady pace, from his building down past the pool and a grassy area that led to a city park, looping around other sections of the complex. He was having difficulty generating questions to advance the conversation nor did his father seem compelled to chat as they sauntered along, occasionally passing other residents of the community whom his father greeted happily. They all sang out his name, and he felt comfort knowing that this stranger seemed to be at home in this neighborhood.

They returned to the apartment, and his father immediately headed to the kitchen and heated the pot of water. "Do you need any help, Dad?"

"I'm fine. Make yourself comfortable. There's some beer and wine in the refrigerator."

He grabbed a can of a local micro brewed beer and stood in the kitchen doorway watching him pour the pasta into the boiling water, then stir the sauce again. Without looking up, his father called over to him, "Grab the veggies."

He did as instructed, thinking that the last time he might have done something like this would have been following a similar request, probably at a Sunday dinner, after Darren had gone off to college, when the three of them were about to sit for a meal. He walked over to the CD player and saw the shelves of music, well over two thousand CDs. He quickly scanned the collection and saw most of them were from the same genres: the big band era, Broadway musicals, singers of the great American songbook, most of them female. The shelves were labeled and organized, which didn't surprise him when he considered his father's accounting background and how predictably everything had always been arranged in his father's den back in Eau Claire. He stopped at Billie Holiday and counted: twenty-four different albums. He turned the player on again, and Ella's lyrical voice seemed to smile in familiarity about being "a lucky so and so." His father strode in and asked if he was ready to eat. "Sure. How long have you been collecting this music?"

"I made the decision to unload all my records about twenty years ago. I had almost as many of the old vinyls as you see here, but the little disks are so much easier to deal with. Got a good price for the old ones as well. Then I went on a spree to replace most of what I had sold. Haven't added much over the past few years. I figure what's the point. Most of the performers I listen to are dead and all their stuff has already been released. Most days, I pick out a dozen I want to listen to throughout the day, pop the first bunch in and let them play throughout the morning and early afternoon, then do the same with the second half for the afternoon and evening. I often go to sleep listening to somebody singing. Those voices are some of my best friends, going back to the days when I was in my thirties, which is when I fell in love with this type of music."

"Very impressive."

"Not such a big deal. All you need is enough money to order them. One of the easier things in life actually. Finding the time to listen to them, over and over, to appreciate what the singers and piano players are trying to do demands much more energy. I like to relax for an hour with my eyes closed, pretending I'm sitting in the studio or a club. Come on, the pasta will get cold."

The silence arose again, but this time the food was a distraction. The sauce was delicious. "I don't recall you cooking much."

"One of the first things I did when I moved to Chicago was to take cooking classes. Every few years I specialized in some new style. Italian was the first. After a few years, I had a repertoire of a dozen or so dishes that I really liked. I've been tweaking them ever since. This sauce was the very first one I learned in the very first class, and it's still one of my favorites. Your mother did almost all the cooking back in Eau Claire. I didn't need to take care of myself until I left."

He felt hesitant about responding, knowing how difficult it was to circle around the topic that both of them eventually needed to address, yet suspecting as well that it would take some time to warm up to it--if they ever did.

After helping him clean up the kitchen, they sat again. "Grab another beer, Dan."

"That's OK. It'll just make me drowsy after the long day."

"I stopped drinking about fifteen years ago."

"I don't remember you drinking much--just the martini after work."

"Right. But I decided that I'd rather live a few more years than have a few drinks. That, too, was an easy choice."

The music had shifted to a singer he'd heard before. "Is this Lorraine Duggins?"

"Yeah. You know her?"

"From recent years. She plays at a club in the Hilton in downtown Minneapolis."

"I'd lost track of her. I'm so happy to hear she's still around. She used to be an unknown except to a few of us. She came to Chicago several times a year. Never missed her when she did. This is her only recording I know about--from about thirty years ago."

The voice effortlessly wound its way through "Stardust Melody," to the lines he'd always appreciated: "Tho' I dream in vain, in my heart it will remain, my stardust melody, the memory of love's refrain." Dan was very happy to hear her from another vintage. "She's very good. Very distinctive voice and phrasing. Even more so now. She's lost a little of that voice, but her interpretations are magnificent."

"Yeah. Better than most of them on the racks. Her humility always impressed me. She never cared how popular she got. Sang for the joy of it. You seem to know this music?"

"It's what I mostly listen to. I appreciate the legacy you've passed on."

He could see the pleasure this gave his father. "It's going on 9:00. I'm headed to bed soon. Let me walk you down to Chester and Robert's place. It's only a few blocks."

The conversation became easier as they walked. His father had no trouble keeping up with him, taking purposeful strides alongside him. "Is there anything you need to do tomorrow?"

"I have few errands we could do in the later morning with Chester."

"What time?"

"10:00 would be fine. I usually nap for an hour or so in mid-afternoon, so you can go off then and come back at 5:00."

"Sounds good. Thanks for the meal."

"Not much after all these years. I'm very happy you're here."

Larry knocked on a condo door and Chester buzzed them in. Dan smiled at both of them, and his dad said his goodnight quickly with the agreement they'd have supper together the next night. A few minutes later, Robert entered the living room and welcomed Dan with a big hug. He even kissed Dan on the cheek. "Larry's boy. My, o, my. We've heard the stories for years. The son with the formidable stubbornness. He doesn't look much like Darren, does he, Chester?"

"Though he's got a bit of Larry in the jawline. Come on, Dan, let me give you a tour and show you you're bedroom," Chester said.

Their unit which was much larger than his father's, bi-level with a large kitchen and dining complex and a living room with enough space to accommodate a baby grand piano. "Chester's toy," Robert said as Dan tickled the keys.

"You play, Dan?" Chester asked.

"Not really. Took a few lesson in college. Thought it would be a good thing to know how to do. That was when I started listening to jazz pianists."

Chester led him to the bedrooms upstairs. "We figured you would prefer the bedroom in the basement. It's got a bathroom and a nice queen bed. No noise so you can sleep in. Robert's sleep habits have become a bit quirky. He usually turns in early and sometimes gets up early. He likes to hang out in the second bedroom upstairs when he does."

Dan followed Chester to the downstairs. His bags sat on a stand. Towels and washcloths on top of them. "I know you're in a bit of a time warp, but if you're interested in staying up with me for a while I'll be at the piano. Let's go say goodnight to Robert."

Robert was coming out of the shower, naked, when they reached the upstairs. Dan smiled. Robert was a bit portly, with mostly a smooth torso. He held a towel across his genitals, though Dan didn't have an immediate interest in them...or Robert. He stopped and said goodnight, "We are so happy you're here, Dan. We've been waiting for you. Seems like years. So welcome. Chester probably explained my unusual sleep habits. So I'm turning in."

He kissed Dan again, this time on the lips. "We are so happy you are comfortable with us. Makes things so much easier than finding space at Larry's or shipping you off to a motel, which is what your brother prefers."

"I'm fine with who you are, Robert. Clothed or unclothed. Thanks for having me."

Robert laughed and kissed him again and disappeared into the bedroom.

He and Chester returned to the piano room. "Anything to drink? I'm going to have a small glass of Scottish whiskey. To celebrate my heritage. My last name is McDougal."

"I'll join you."

Chester played the piano lightly as they chatted. "Did you get to the big questions over dinner?"

"No, we just took it easy. He made a nice pasta dish and we talked about lady singers."

"Are you a fan?"

"Big fan. I've heard Lorraine Duggins a few times in the past few years. At a club in Minneapolis."

"No kidding. I kind of forgot about her. But you really can't. She's one of a kind, unforgettable presence on the stage. Interprets the old songs beautifully," Chester said.

"She still does. It's exciting the way she can talk her way through some of the lyrics. Kind of sets your heart on fire. Wishing you were in love. Or even sadder because you've lost your lover."

Chester played the old Hoagy Carmichael song, "Skylark," lightly in the background. "Does she still sing this one?"

"Yeah. Very beautifully."

"When did you start listening to these songs?"

"Dad played his albums in the den. I'd sit with him and listen. After he left us, he took the old albums with him, but left the memories. When I was thirty or so, I rediscovered them. It's mostly what I listen to now."

"That's nice."

Chester started singing the lyrics to "Skylark" and Dan joined in. "Very nice. You are such a different man from your brother. It's almost scary. But much appreciated."

Chester looked at him. Dan didn't know if it was appreciation or some lust, but he felt some waves of desire. The whiskey hit him just then, and he closed his eyes. "Bet you need to go to sleep?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"I'll be down in a few minutes. To make sure everything is OK."

Dan settled into his bedroom, setting his book on the bedside table, and deciding if he needed to take a shower before much longer. Realizing he needed to after all the hidden griminess of airplanes and airports. Just then, Chester popped his head in the doorway. "Everything OK?"

"The room's great. Thanks for being such a kind host."

"I suspect there will be some tough times over the next few days. If you need to chat, I know the story almost as well as your dad, given how many times he's leaned on me."

"I know I'm stealing some of his thunder, but tell me what you know about him leaving me and my mother. My brother won't say a word. He claims it's dad's story to tell."

"I'm guessing your brother wouldn't be able to do it fairly. You have to be quite open minded to do that."

"What do you mean?"

"Darren is pretty homophobic. He really tries with your dad. And even with Robert and me. But it's like he's out of his league. So, I think he's saving you but not telling you his version."

"Makes sense."

Robert reclined on the bed next to him. "You were just seventeen when he left, right?"

"Yes."

"Did he say goodbye to you?"

"Yes. It was short chat. Thinking back, he was very sweet. He simply said he was no longer in love with my mother. Nothing more. I had no idea what he was talking about."

Chester smiled. "Why should you have understood it? You were trying to figure yourself out. Not what was going on with your dad."

"I don't know what he told mom. But she never talked about it. She just made sure I was as angry and hurt as she was. Ashamed, too, because she had to answer all the question from family and friends. And endure their withering stares. Like she had done something wrong. Did Dad tell you about the packet of letters and cards?"

"Yes. Very sad."

"I try not to be bitter, towards her and even Dad, but sometimes it's too strong to ignore."

"There was nothing she could do to stop him from leaving, Dan. Because she wasn't a man. Just like me and Robert and lots of men. Women will not and cannot satisfy our desires."

Dan couldn't respond. He wasn't disturbed by the revelations. Especially knowing his dad would have many more. And he had, over the past few week, mostly with Alex's help, figured out the basic explanation.

"Are you hurt by that information?"

"No. I had figured some of it out. Perhaps when Dad tells me all the details, it will be more painful."

"He's hoping you will listen to his explanation. He's been eager to tell you for decades."

Despite what he'd just said, he felt the turmoil bubbling within him. Part of that was just seeing his father in the flesh again. He looked old, yet quite spry for his age. But he had very little to compare it to, since he hadn't seen him since his wedding over thirty years ago. The man had disappeared and aged, almost like some magic show, only to reappear again in a changed form. Nothing about him seemed like what he could remember. He resisted the temptation to blame either himself or his father. Fate and desire had caused this disruption. Neither of them was the fall guy.

He felt a hand on his arm. He had forgotten that Chester was next to him. "You are quiet. Should I leave you alone?" Chester said.

"If you need to. But I'd like you to stay if you can. You're very comforting."

"Why are you so open minded about people like me and your dad?"

"It's 2024. My brother is a bit backward about such matters. So, it's not fair to compare me to him. I've known gay men. I've never had a problem with it. Actually, I've been sympathetic."

"Sensible. Am I making you uncomfortable lying here next to you?"

"Not at all. I'm glad you're here. I'm happy to be staying with you."

"Have you thought about seeing the sights while you're here?"

"I'd like to. Dad probably won't be up for it."

"I'd like to take you for a hike in the desert if you're up for it. You look like you're in shape to do it," Chester said.

"I'd love to. Maybe the day after tomorrow," Dan said.

"Yes, get an early start before the heat sets in."

"Great."

"Robert doesn't like to hike. I'm always looking for a partner."

The presence of Chester next to him made him feel very comfortable. His impulse to reveal secrets about his desires was gurgling beneath the surface. What did it matter if he told Chester about his desires for men and a craving to touch a man's naked skin? He felt Chester move in closer to him. Or was he just imagining it because he wanted him to? He glanced over at Chester and his eyes were closed. Chester's body was just a few inches from him. And Chester's hand was still rubbing his arm. He reached with his other hand and rubbed Chester's hand. Chester opened his eyes and moaned lowly. Dan knew he was on the brink of doing something that touched that core of who he was. As though Chester was reading his mind and body, he said, "You are very comfortable with a man touching you. You've done this before." It was a statement, not a question.

Dan swallowed his resistance and said, "Yes. I enjoy it. With a man I enjoy of course."

"Can I kiss you?"

"I wish you would."

Chester's lips touched his. Lightly at first. Waiting for Dan's response. When Dan pressed against those tender lips, Chester pressed forward. The kissing was sublime. Their tongues pressed together, swirling in each other's mouth. Chester suddenly pulled back, "Should I stop? If I don't, I'm not sure I'll be able to. I want you."

"What about Robert?"

"I love him dearly. But we don't have sex anymore. For lots of complicated reasons. So, to have a man in the house like you who seems eager is quite a temptation."

"Will he come down and check on you?"

"Not likely. And if he did, it would be OK. Sometimes I need this, and he understands."

Dan was quiet. "Does all that shock you?" Chester asked.

"Of course. Not that I can't deal with it. But I need your assurance it's OK. I don't want to be the intruder who ruins the marriage of the couple who are looking after my dad so well."

"I'm not deceiving you. Earlier in the evening, after you saw Robert come out of the shower, he told me in private, `It will be fine if you have fun with him.' He might even think I'm down here right now."

"Really? You're not making this up?"

"Maybe it sounds crazy to you. But Robert fully understands the power of our sexual drives. He's just lost his. But he wants me to retain mine as much as I can."

Dan pondered Chester's words for a few minutes. "I need to take a shower after traveling."

"I could join you or come back later. Or give you time to think about what we're doing overnight."

Dan got up from the bed and turned the bathroom light on. He looked into the mirror. He had recently had two fulfilling sexual trysts with Alex. He thought about Ben and his naked body, though the feeling for him seemed to be fading. And now this. In this most unlikely situation. But his desire was strong, and he was very attracted to Chester. He came back out of the bathroom. Chester was sitting on the side of the bed. "Come here," Dan said.

Chester approached him and they kissed again. He slipped Chester's t-shirt off and looked at him. "I didn't use to be this chubby. But I've always been a bit thick."

He had a hairy chest, not dense, but covered with dark hair, some of it turning grey. "I wondered about this, given how little you have left on top."

Chester laughed. "Using that gauge, I'd say you have a bit more on your chest. Should I see?"

Dan smiled and lifted up his arms to allow Chester to pull his polo shirt free. "Very nice. I wish I were that trim again."

Dan untied Chester's sweat pants and pulled them down. He was wearing blue boxer briefs underneath. "I often go commando, but with a guest in the house, I thought I'd dress up."

Dan laughed as he felt Chester's cock and balls. "Feels nice. You have a wet spot, too. You were aroused earlier?"

"Yes, very much. Now let's see yours."

Chester unfasted his belt and jeans and slid them down. "Nice choice of briefs. A bit traditional and a bit skimpy as well."

Robert went into the bathroom and ran the water. "Takes a minute for the warm water."

Dan approached him from behind and pulled his boxer briefs down and Chester stepped out of them. When he turned, he had his left hand covering his genitals. "I won't show you until we're under the water," Chester said.

Chester went into the shower and Dan slipped his briefs off and joined him. They faced each other under the water and kissed. Dan didn't look down, just let his hand feel Chester's balls and cock. He was semi-hard. Cut and thick. As Chester's cock stiffened in Dan's hand, it felt about his own length. Dense pubic hair covered the area. Then he felt Chester reach for him. He had gotten completely hard and was already leaking. "O, yes, a nice one. Feels like my own." Dan shampooed his hair as Chester washed Dan's chest and belly and down to his genitals. Dan turned and he felt Chester's hands wash his shoulders and back. When his hands soaped and massaged his ass cheeks, Dan moaned. "Wash me inside them, too."

Chester's fingers coated Dan's hole running to his balls and back. Over and over, Until Dan leaned against the shower wall his head under the water. When he felt Chester's fingers inside him, he moaned louder, recalling his moments with Ben. Their exploration of their anal areas was such a rich discovery. "Wash me now, Dan."

Dan repeated everything Chester had done to him. Chester's cock had hardened out and he moaned when Dan stroked it with his soapy hand. When he washed Chester's ass cheeks, he felt keen arousal. He loved this intimate part of man's anatomy. He slid his hands across Chester's anus and perineal area. And when he probed his ass with his middle finger, Chester said, "All the way in."

Dan fingered him for five minutes. They rinsed off and toweled each other. Chester pulled the sheets back and they kissed deeply now. Full of arousal. Chester asked, "What do you like?"

"Lots of kissing obviously. Everywhere. As much giving as receiving."

They kissed and then immediately switched to a position where they could taste each other's cock at the same time. When Chester played with his hole at the same time, he followed him. Chester sat up. "You play very nicely. Have you done this very often?"

"I started very late. When I was forty-eight. Just one man for most of the time. Then a second man for half a year when it seemed I wouldn't see the first man again. Recently, a third man a few times. It seems my first friend is gone out of my life again."

"Very cautious. I compliment you on that. I wasn't quite that way when I first came out in my late twenties. But since I've been with Robert, my dalliances have been infrequent. You're the first in two years."

"No wonder you're so hungry."

"Fuck. I'm starved."

"What time is it?"

"Just after midnight."

"Do you sleep with Robert?"

"Sometimes. Less recently as he's trying to get deeper sleeps."

"Where does he expect you to sleep?"

"He won't be shocked whether I spend the night with you or in the second bedroom upstairs."

"For tonight, let's not sleep together. It's too soon. Too new for me."

"OK. Want me to leave now?"

"No. I'd like to have some more of you."

"Do you want to suck to completion or fuck? Or is that quite rude of me?"

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you do."

They resumed their kissing, and Chester said, "Let me get a towel just in case we want to fuck."

He returned with a bath towel and a bottle of lube. "I can't always keep my erection to fuck. If you would take me like that, I would be grateful. I haven't had a man in me for years. And I miss it."

Dan turned Chester over onto his belly and licked his ass cheeks and then deep inside his fleshy ass, lubricating his anus over and over. He fingered him with two fingers coated with lube. Chester said, "Go slow. I'll be tight."

Chester rose on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Dan stood and rubbed his cock tip against Chester's wet hole and pushed slowly. Chester took him easily, as Dan paused at the sphincters. Then Chester pushed back and took him. When he was deeply inside him, Chester said, "Feels so good. I can't tell you how much. I've missed sex so much. Thank you."

They fucked until Dan softened a bit though he hadn't cum. "Do you want to try me?"

"Maybe tomorrow. I'll medicate myself. Would you fill me with your cum?"

"Let me spoon you for the last stage. I can jack you at the same time."

They got into position, and Chester masturbated Dan into stiffness and put him inside. They fucked in that position for a long time. It felt like half an hour to Dan. He stroked Chester's cock after playing with his nipples and got Chester hard again. They both started moaning as the orgasms arose within both of them. "I'm so close, Dan."

They both exploded and moaned loudly. Dan fell back clutching Chester's belly. When Chester woke, his kissed Dan on his forehead. "What time is it, Chester?"

"Two. Go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."