Dan and Ben at Fifty-five--Chapter Seven By Ezra Randle
Less than an hour after the dinner party the next night, he strolled alongside his father back to his condo. "I enjoyed the evening with Robert and Chester, Dad. Thanks for setting it up."
"Robert did it all. You can thank him."
"I like staying with them. Not that I wouldn't with you, if you had more room."
"I knew this would be better. Chester stays up later like you probably do. He loves to meet new people and entertain them."
"Yes. He's very generous with his time."
"What are your plans for tomorrow?"
"Chester and I are going hiking in the desert. At the crack of dawn."
"Good idea. This is all working out better than I thought. Tomorrow night let's talk."
Dan nodded. The awkwardness of their first parting in so many years was finally broken when Dan extended his hand to say goodnight. "Sleep well, Dad. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon."
His dad smiled. "Night, Danny."
Chester invited him into the living room. Robert walked through, already changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt. He came up to Chester and kissed him. "Goodnight. Sorry to be such a party pooper, but I'm exhausted."
"Robert, before you go, I wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed tonight. It was very nice of you."
"All heart felt. It gives us great pleasure to see you and your dad reconcile. He means a great deal to us. We love Larry so much."
Robert gave Dan a long kiss directly to his lips. "Good night, sweetie."
Thirty minutes later, Chester popped into his bedroom. "Everything OK with Robert?"
"Yes. This is his usual routine at night. He used to be a night creature. Not anymore."
"Does he know about us, last night?"
"We didn't talk about it. But he knows. He's fine with it. You'd know it if he wasn't. He's not a subtle guy about things like this."
"Good. Because I had a wonderful time with you."
"Would you like me to stay awhile?"
"Please do. I've been anticipating it all day. Have you?"
Chester laughed. "Part of me feels like I'm twenty. Yes, I'd like to get naked with you again. Though we do have an early morning."
They kissed as they sat on the edge of the bed. "Any regrets?" Chester asked.
"Did I pleasure you enough?"
"My ass has felt it all day. A very arousing feeling."
"Do you need to shower?"
"I showered upstairs. You?"
"I just came out. Thinking you'd be with me tonight."
They were both wearing sweat pants and t-shirts. They slipped off the t-shirts and reclined on the bed. They kissed lightly and rubbed their bodies. "You feel very good, Chester. Tell me more about Robert."
"He's my first great love. I was married before, but she left me for someone else. We have a daughter, Bobbie. Amusingly, that's how I met Robert. I took care of her much of the time when my ex traveled for work. Robert lived two houses down and he helped me with childcare when I needed free time. Sometimes, I needed him so I could go out to see other men. Finally, he said, `you could find the love you need at home. With me.' And that's what happened. Bobbie loved him dearly. Still does. Robert didn't have to work. He inherited money. So we became a family."
Dan had reached inside Chester's sweat pants. He had no underwear on. He played with his cock and low hanging balls. "He was a wonderful lover. We couldn't get enough of each other. But prostate surgery and some heart issues have pretty much taken care of his libido. In some ways, we love each other more."
Chester snuggled into Dan's chest. "Make you sad to talk about it?"
"Yes and no. In general, no, life moves on. This is part of it. We're lucky in so many other respects. But when I'm like this with you, of course I miss it. But like an orgasm, life is quite transitory."
Dan's slipped his hand across Chester's ass and rubbed it. "Did you enjoy my ass last night?" Chester asked.
"Tremendously. I was surprised you offered it to me."
"Robert used to top me more than I did him. He was very good at it. Not that you aren't."
"I'm not that experienced. You could probably tell," Dan said.
"Actually, no. I like it when you rub my cheeks back there. I've always been so sensitive everywhere back there."
Dan slipped his fingers across Chester's hole. "Can I do the same to you?" Chester said.
"Yes. I've been waiting for you."
They each had their hands inside the other's sweat pants. Sometimes on the front, sometimes on the ass side. Chester turned out the light and they continued rubbing each other in the dark. "Will you fall asleep like this?" Chester asked.
"No. I like this kind of foreplay. In some respects more than the big stuff," Dan said.
"I understand. You must have had a good lover. To teach you like this," Chester said.
"Just two men who had sensuous appetites. And a curiosity to do this sort of thing."
"Do you love him still?"
"Not sure. I haven't been missing him like I used to. I suppose I will always love him in some ways. We go way back to high school. Didn't do anything until we were forty-eight."
"What happened to him?"
"Complicated. He still loves me. He's told me that and I believe him. It's too difficult for him to juggle both desires."
"He wouldn't be the first. Though I'll bet he has moments when he misses you so deeply he weeps."
"I hope not. I know what it's like to miss him and it's not that much fun for the most part. I hope he can put me in the lost and found until he needs to see me again. That's been his pattern over the years."
Chester pinched his bottom lightly. "Have we been talking long?" Dan asked.
"Almost two hours."
"What's your pleasure?"
As Dan said those words, he resumed his touch on Chester's cock. As he pulled on Chester's frenulum, Chester said, "Now that's a special spot."
Chester stiffened in Dan's hand. "I've taken some Viagra. Could I come into you?"
"I want you to."
Chester removed their sweat pants and they pulled back the sheets. "Do you have a preference about the position?"
"Surprise me."
Chester rolled him on his belly and rimmed him. Dan moaned and said, "Stretch me out. I'm practically a virgin back there."
"Let me slide a plug inside you for a while."
Chester retrieved a short but thick plug and a tube of lube. He fingered him first then left the plug in while he kissed him. "Nice sensation. I've not done this."
"Let yourself relax back there. I'll make you want it."
Chester licked his chest and belly. He sucked on his nipples while his hand played with the plug. Pulling it back and pushing it back in, stimulating the opening. Dan turned Chester onto his back. Chester's cock was rigid and Dan sucked it. "Boy, does it taste good when you are this hard."
"Better living through chemistry," Chester said.
Dan straddled Chester as Chester pulled the plug out. Dan grabbed Chester's rigid tool and inserted it into his opening. As he sat down on top of Chester, his cock easily slid in all the way. "The plug did its work."
Dan slid up and down on cock, rubbing Chester's nipples as he did. "Wow. Sending me into orbit," Chester said.
Dan stroked his cock as he rode Chester. Sometimes Chester would put the brakes on and they would kiss. But as the steady pleasure of the fucking maintained itself, Chester said, "You're going to squeeze it out me."
"I hope so."
Chester exploded inside him sending his prostate into quivering ecstasy bringing a several streams of semen onto Chester's belly all the way to his neck. Dan leaned forward, feeling the dual pleasure of his ass and cock reeling from the orgasm. He didn't know when he fell asleep but he woke up alongside Chester who was snoring beside him. Dan touched Chester's deflated cock, the tip coated with cum and lube. Would it have been better with Ben? Or Alex? He felt more naked than he was, totally vulnerable. He touched Chester's thigh to make sure his presence was real.
When he woke again, Chester was gone. He reached for his phone. Five-thirty. Ten minutes later, Chester opened the bedroom door, freshly showered and fully dressed. "Still want to go hiking?"
They were pushing themselves along the Hugh Norris Trail by 8:30 A.M. Chester led him through a magnificent forest of saguaro, set between the valley and the beginning of the mountains. The feel of the air was much different than he had experienced before, and the sensation of his sweat evaporating before it drenched his shirt and underwear was unique. They climbed a bit more, then paused as Chester pointed back to the panorama of cacti they had just come through. He put his fingers to his lips and they listened. It sounded almost like a stream cutting through a woodland, bubbling and gurgling, but clearly there was no water running here. "What's the noise?"
"Cactus wrens--nesting in the chollas, going about their business of raising their young."
He smiled, and they turned and headed up the trail toward Wasson Peak.
"Chester, how did you become friends with Dad?"
"We go back a long way. Almost thirty-five years. I met him at Froggy's, an old jazz club in the downtown area of Chicago. Been out of business for over 20 years. Both of us came there to hear Lorraine Duggins. She'd been singing jazz standards for a few years and was starting to make a bit of a stir."
"How big was the group?"
"Just Lorraine and Jimmy at that time. She finished her first set. I was very impressed, spoke to her briefly letting her know, and went into the men's room. I noticed a guy who seemed to be transfixed in the front of the mirror. I took a piss and when I went to wash my hands, the guy was still there. He was tearful, so I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. My simple question got him even more churned up. He looked over at me and asked if I'd heard Lorraine's first set. I told him she was terrific, the best singer I'd heard in years. He smiled through his sniffling and said, She's made me smile like this and she's turned me to tears as well.' I understood what he was talking about, but I was still a bit surprised about his reaction. I was about to leave, so I asked him again if he was OK. He maintained that same odd mixture of joy and sorrow and said, I guess I'm not, but that's the way life is. She's made me remember what I did five years ago when I left my wife and youngest boy behind and moved to the city. Found lots of happiness here, but left lots of sorrow behind. When she sings those ballads she makes me feel all the pain I caused in my desire to be happy.' A few minutes later, while I was sitting at my table, he came back out and I kept my eye on him, watched him buy a drink, then sit at a table just down from me, like nothing happened. He looked over at me after a bit, just before Lorraine started singing again, and waved. I must have waved back, and he got up and came over to me and asked me if he could buy me a drink. I was a bit perplexed. I'd been out of the closet for a few years and thought I had pretty good radar for detecting another one of us but your dad didn't fit that bill. But his offer made me a bit nervous anyway. He joined me and we sat there listening to Lorraine finish her performance, chatting occasionally. Several hours later, he shook my hand and disappeared."
"When did you see him again?"
"A few months later. Lorraine was back at Froggy's. He was there with a man, who turned out to be Dennis, the man he was with for a few years. We talked briefly between sets and he bought me another drink. Introduced himself for the first time, which was kind of funny, after not telling me his name the first night. We ran into each other off and on at different music clubs over the next few years. Always chatting briefly about the music, nothing very personal. He seemed to have an instinctual feel for the quality of performers, like he could pick up on whether they touched him or not. When he explained why they did or didn't, I could tell he had an intuitive sense about music even though he wasn't trained in the art. I've known very good musicians who've never developed the feel he has. He knew I played the piano and had a varied musical background, but whatever expertise I had never seemed to intimidate him."
"Were you with Robert at this time?"
"I had just started with Robert. By that time, Dennis was out of his life and he hadn't started up with Leslie. Robert loves listening to this type of music as well, and he and Larry took an immediate liking to each other. From that point on, the two of them stayed in touch by phone often arranging meetings at the clubs. Those get-togethers became a regular thing over the next few years. Then we invited him to a party at our house."
"That must have been interesting."
"Your assumption that most of the people there were gay is correct, and your dad fit right in. This sound like the man you grew up with?"
"Hard to know. He might have been, though I suspect he didn't know many gay people in Eau Claire--or minorities of any group. Eau Claire was pretty lily white, and while I'm sure lots of folks were gay, I suspect they were mostly hiding out. I don't think there was even a gay bar there in the 1960s."
"Several years later, he started showing up with Leslie, and after seeing them a few times, it was obvious this was the real thing. Your dad was crazy about him. I suspect this part of the story might be hard for you to hear, but I've got to believe it's good for you to know."
"You're right on both counts. I never met Leslie. Darren talked about him on several occasions but never mentioned he and Dad were lovers. But I didn't want to know more than he told me. Regretfully. Tell me about him."
"Is that something you ought to hear about from your dad?"
"I hope to talk about Leslie with him before I leave, but haven't yet. But if you'd indulge me, I'm playing catch-up here, trying to close a forty-year gap. Everything I can take in about his life will help me understand what I've been too hardheaded to want to know all these years."
"Seems like only yesterday he was with us, even though it's been almost three years. Lovely man. Very self-assured but without any need to put himself on center stage. Trim guy in the beginning. Fading redhead--he was your dad's age, but always seemed ten years younger. A real reader, voracious, everything from serious novels to gossipy trash. He was just as satisfied to curl up with a book as be out with people. Non-fiction was his real passion. Very curious mind. When he'd come over, we'd have the most interesting conversations about almost anything. He fit in with our crowd just like your dad. He was the one who got us started with the sing-a-longs."
"What are those?"
"I've had a lot of experience in musical theater, some performing, but mostly playing in rehearsals or in the pit. We all loved the type of music that Lorraine sang, so one evening after we hosted your dad and Leslie for dinner, Leslie asked if I'd play a song for their anniversary. They'd been together a few years and were celebrating. I played `All the Things You Are', the old Kern and Hammerstein song and he sang it to your dad. He had a lovely voice--soft, unpretentious, but always on key. And your dad sang it back, in that funny almost countertenor voice of his. Then they danced while I sang it a third time. One thing led to another, and I played songs like that for few more hours. We had a wonderful time. Two loving couples singing love songs. After that, we got together to sing several times a year. Our guilty pleasure. We continued the tradition here in Tucson, but not much lately, since Leslie died. Your dad has a hard time singing those songs without him. Robert and I get after him for an evening, but no sooner do we start, than his eyes mist up and he wanders off and I quit playing."
"Very nice. I have a friend back home. He fell in love with that type of music when he was in his fifties. Actually it was Lorraine who converted him. He'd die for an evening like that. I guess I feel the same way. What a wonderful pleasure."
"It was. I miss it tremendously. If you could have seen the joy on your dad's face when all those wonderful old lyrics rolled off his tongue, you would have been very impressed."
Dan smiled, appreciating the memories, even though he hadn't been there. "Is this friend you referenced your first lover?" Chester said.
"Yes. He's a lovely man."
"Sounds like you very much miss him."
"At times, yes."
They approached the top of Wasson, and Chester pointed out the other mountains: Picacho Peak and the Catalinas. "I was thinking, Dan, that would be a great way to end your stay here. Have a little songfest tomorrow night. I heard you sing the other night. You can carry a tune."
"I'm not much good, but that doesn't stop me. I'd like to if we can get Dad to join in."
"I'll let Robert work on him."
They cut through the rocky mountain top until they had a full glimpse of the Santa Rita and Rincon mountains on the far side of Tucson below them. Chester suggested they sit a while and he brought out some trail snacks. "Be sure to drink your water, Dan. Even though you may not feel thirsty, it will catch up with you later if you don't."
They returned home about 1:30 after their early afternoon meal and several pitchers of water. He could still feel the searing heat in his throat and had downed several bottles of water in the hour he'd been resting in his room. He picked up his book again, but no sooner had he read a single page than he could feel a pleasant fatigue wash over him. He shut his eyes and felt a light doze settle in, knowing he had a few hours before his conversation with his father. Images of the arid scenes he had walked with Chester a few hours earlier roamed through his mind, cacti of all shapes, many still abloom, blending together with so many variations of browns and yellows that he still felt awash by this journey in nature, so different than any he had experienced in the lush greens of the northern, wetter climes to which he was so accustomed. Then images of Chester swam into view as well. Dan had walked behind him for much of the hike, Chester's body moving easily on the sand-packed trail, so obviously more acclimated than he to the desert. He had never been attracted to men, in reality or in fantasy, who weren't masculine. Ben always personified maleness to him as far back as he could remember, even when he added his beer belly just out of high school. Alex, too, though far from the well-conditioned image of husky men, exuded a strong male presence that became even more pronounced once they slept together. Chester fit this pattern further characterized by his fifteen pounds of unwanted weight on a big-boned frame. As the first stages of sleep eased into his eyes, he let himself think back to Alex's naked body next to him, and then quickly to Chester undressing. He felt his arousal take hold as he lay naked under the cool sheets. He touched himself and already felt the early juices. As he worked his hand, the picture of Chester faded and Ben's smiling face came back to him. He thought his love for Ben had faded a bit, but now it was strong again. He wished he were here next to him and couldn't understand why Ben still couldn't make time for him. Tears began to flood his drowsy eyes, and they took him to the task that lay ahead with his father. He was determined to pose the difficult questions to his father when they were alone. Chester reminded him during their luncheon, when he spoke of his reluctance to have the big conversation with his father, that his father was eager to return to the past and discuss it. He was desperate to live his remaining years unfettered. Dan willed his fatigue to take him away from all these complicated ruminations, yet even as he slipped away, he could feel, one last time, the touch of Ben on that magical night when the northern lights filled the Lake Superior skies.
There was no food left. Between his enormous appetite and his father's keen sense of proportioning, the slabs of tuna, the salad, and the roasted potatoes had been laid out to perfection and with no need to decide about leftovers. He cleaned the grill while his father finished loading the dishwasher, and now they sat across from each other in the cozy living room listening to Tony Bennett sing and Bill Evans play the piano. His father seemed relaxed, and he almost anticipated that he would demand his evening walk and perhaps distract him from rousing his courage again. To prevent that, he initiated the conversation. "I had a wonderful time with Chester, today. It was a beautiful day for a walk and we chatted about a great many things."
"Like what?"
"Actually we talked about you quite a bit."
"Why did you clutter up the desert with such a dull subject?"
"Chester encouraged me to have this conversation with you...about the past. He said you were ready for it."
His dad nodded and smiled. "I'm very willing. I don't know if you are."
"I have to be, Dad. I think it's time."
"Where do you want me to start?"
"Why you left would be a good place."
"If you want me to stop, don't hesitate to let me know. Is that clear?"
He felt like a boy getting a directive from his father, and he replied with a smirk. "Yes, very clear."
"I've rehearsed much of what I need to say for so long that I don't know if what will come out has become somewhat of a fiction or not. Forty years is a long time. Can you remember much from when you were seventeen?"
He paused, and though he smiled, he could feel the tears close to the surface and imagined they would be there, lingering, waiting for an opening, throughout this conversation. Whenever he'd thought about this moment, he inevitably felt this type of sorrow. "I remember the night you left very well. I've never forgotten it. If you're asking me if most of what I can recall is what really happened, I have no idea. I was upset and angry. Everything I can still see on that night is filtered through that lens. I'm sure I've been very unfair to you in my recollections, and that's why I want to know what happened before and after that night, so I can reframe the images."
"Well stated. I used to be very impressed with you when you were in middle and high school by how thoroughly you could logically examine very emotional issues. I imagine you've only gotten better at it."
"Don't give me too much credit. I use my abilities to hide the truth just like everyone else does."
"Do you say that in an accusatory way?"
"I don't want to. But you have to understand this is the first time I will be getting this story from you. I'm trying to withhold any blame. I mean it. But don't be offended if some bitterness slips out."
"What do you mean about hiding the truth?"
"We all have strategies to survive and get by, to help us get over or forget about the pain from the past. I've gotten used to letting my detachment and analytical abilities take the forefront. I used to be very skeptical about the past. I thought it was all pretty fictional, like you implied your story might be. I became really hardheaded about that idea. Maybe some of that goes back to you leaving and me never understanding why and never wanting to know why. But I want to open up to what's happened. That's why I came down here. That's why I asked you that question."
"Fair enough. I left your mom, like I told you that night before I left when you were seventeen, because I didn't love her enough to stay. But you need more than that. Maybe she's told you how we met and how our first few years were."
"She never said a thing. I never asked."
"We met at the college in Eau-Claire. This was before they'd renamed it a university, and before the baby boomer campus explosion in the 1960s. It was a sleepy campus, and I was studying accounting, as you know, and she was learning how to become a school teacher. We met when we were twenty. I was new to love. A virgin. Your mother was more experienced. She had several boyfriends back in Menominee and had been intimate with them. But we both felt like we had fallen in love for the first time. For several years, I felt like I was skating on the thinnest glaze of freshly sealed ice--it felt that serene and effortless. And passionate as well. Your mother was a very passionate woman when I met her. When she took me to bed for the first time, after we'd known each other for several months, I felt like I had awakened from a fog and my desires just exploded. I discovered, beneath the very concise manner in which I usually conducted my life, that the sap of lust and love was alive and very, very well. There is a purpose to this part of the story, so I hope I am not embarrassing you too much."
"I'm overwhelmed, but I don't know if embarrassment is the word."
"We got married the summer after we graduated, and I was hired by Embassy Insurance Company, much to my surprise. She taught third grade for two years, then Darren was born and she wanted to stay at home with him. I had no objection. But something happened to our passion during the year after he was born. I still don't know what triggered it. I've always thought she simply lost interest in me, though, given how passionate our romance had been before she'd become pregnant, I've remain mystified. She didn't want to talk about it, nor was I the type of person to intrude into her privacy, so I just let it ride. Things did improve a bit, in the next year, but our intimate life never resumed what it was. She occasionally complied with my desires, but it was clearly one-sided. She became pregnant with you, and the same pattern evolved after you were born. The difference was that she was so much more attached to you than Darren. I don't know what it was. Darren was a very sweet child, so it wasn't that he was difficult to love. Maybe it was that she knew you were to be the last child and she wanted to savor everything about you as long as she could. It's unfair to say you were her favorite, because she was unfailingly good and generous to Darren, and I've never, ever heard Darren say he felt slighted by her. Maybe he might if we had this same conversation, but we never have."
His dad stood up a moment and slid some guitar music by Jim Hall into the machine. "Did she ever say anything about raising you or Darren?"
"Just the usual. That we were both pretty easy kids to raise, and that she loved every minute of it."
"Yes, you were both very easy--though raising kids always demands a great deal of work. A few years later, when you were three or so, and Darren was starting school, she and I had a long conversation about our...our passion. She said her desires had just faded away. I was stunned, though I had no reason to be because, for many years, she had not demonstrated anything like the same fervor we once enjoyed. I told her I needed to love her, in every way. She said she understood and would try. But other than for a few moments, for all intents and purposes, we lived as friends and roommates from that point on."
"Didn't you consider counseling?"
"By then something had happened to me. I rediscovered something that had happened to me when I was a teenager. I had fallen into teen love with a boy in my class. I thought about him all the time. One night, he invited me to a sleepover. Just the two of us. We slept in the same bed. When the lights went out, I had to restrain myself from touching him. I was drifting off to sleep when I felt his touch. I asked him what he wanted. He said he wanted to be naked with me. I had no frame of reference to what he was suggesting other than I craved him so deeply. We took our underwear off and kissed. He was no more experienced than I was. I know we didn't last long when we jacked each other off. It felt so good. Like it touched who I was. That was it with him. He felt terrible about what we did. He apologized and we never talked about it again."
His dad took a deep breath before he continued. "During the years when you were ten or so to the day I left, I had an affair with a man in Eau Claire. He was married and worked in the office with me, as my supervisor. Once we agreed to have a relationship, we often stayed late and used his office. It all seemed so safe and like it could go on forever.
"About a year and half before you graduated, I put in for a transfer at work. Often nothing happens with those requests, and I was prepared to leave the company and look elsewhere if nothing came up. I wanted to do what I was enjoying in the privacy of my boss' office for real. I was biding my time, almost beginning to count the days, when out of the blue, my friend called me in and told me about an opening, an advancement really, in Chicago. I asked if it could wait for another six months until you finished high school but he said a plum like this would be gone within a few weeks. I went down there and interviewed and they offered me the job. Then I had to decide."
Dan watched him reach for his handkerchief and daub his eyes. "Even though I've rehearsed all this, I guess I never expected to have to say it."
Dan had become numb, sinking deeper into the leather chair throughout this monologue, and he had no response. "You want me to go on?"
He barely nodded. "I told them my reservations. I wanted to stay until you finished school, and they suggested I move and you and your mother could join me when the school year was over. I never told them the truth. They gave me a week to decide, and when I knew I had to leave, I told your mother. It was a funny moment, one of the oddest in my life, as I think back. It certainly seemed like she was expecting the news, and I thought maybe someone from the company had gotten to her before I told her. She nodded, and simply asked, `Is it because of your passion?' I told her that was exactly it, that leaving the city and you was not my desire, but that I could not go on with our marriage. She gave me her blessing. There was no question that I wouldn't send her alimony and child support for the rest of your days with her. And I did, even after she reached social security. Did you know that?"
"Yes."
"It wasn't always easy for me to raise the cash. Even when she did part time work, after you went to Madison, I continued to send the money."
His dad paused again, sipped some water, and leaned forward. "That pretty much brings us to the night I said goodbye to you. Without question, that moment was the most difficult one in my life. I loved you so much. Even though I wasn't seeing that much of you anymore because you were busy with your job and school activities and being seventeen, I just couldn't bear the thought of walking out the door and leaving you behind. I knew you well enough to know about your stubborn determination. I suspected that if that aspect of your personality ever got mixed up with hating me, I wasn't sure when or if I'd see you again."
The words hung in the air. Dan couldn't stop his tears, and found himself rubbing his hands against his cheeks unwilling and unable to say a word. "That's just what you'd do when you were little. When you'd cry, it was like you were fighting the tears, you wouldn't give in to your sorrow. Ever. You were a tough little guy, Danny. Darren was a big baby compared to you. You held it in, even when it was running down past your chin onto your t-shirt. When I saw how you took my words that night, fiercely determined to not let them hurt you, I knew it would be a while before we talked again. I never dreamed it would be this long."
Dan sniffled and pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. "It was that simple? Just to leave like that?"
He knew as soon as he said the words they'd come from the mouth of the seventeen-year-old sitting in his bedroom forty years earlier. But his dad answered anyway, "It was never simple. Never easy."
"But you left me to take care of Mom."
"Yeah, I did. I didn't think of that at the time. I didn't think she'd need much taking care of, to be honest. She was always very self-sufficient."
"But I was the only one there. Darren had gone off to Minneapolis and hardly ever came back home. I stayed with her."
"Yeah. You were more of man in that respect than I was. I'm sorry it had to be you. Maybe you still can't understand why I had to leave, but I'll always regret abandoning you, and making you become the only person she could rely on. That wasn't fair."
He went into the bathroom and washed his face, not sure if he could continue with anymore of the conversation, and deeply surprised that what he had been hearing for the last hour could have jolted him so deeply. He dried his hands and looked one more time into the mirror and saw the same nineteen-year-old he always did. Then he returned.
"You OK?"
"I don't know."
"That's all you can say?"
"Why didn't you ever call after you left?"
"I called so many times. Sometimes I got you. Don't you remember?"
He didn't, and wasn't sure if his father was deceiving him or if he had blocked it out. "Tell me about the calls?"
"You mom intercepted most of them. Said you were gone, and you probably were most of the time. You'd become good friends with a guy, I think his name was Ben, and you were out together. I remember his name only because I couldn't believe you could possibly be with him so much. It was so unlike you. When I asked your mother for his number, she said it was none of my business. I told her to let you know I called, but I had the feeling she rarely did. I guess that was her way of getting even--regardless of the blessing she gave me when I left. I'm sure she had to deal with lots of unpleasant questions from family and neighbors--ones that I easily avoided being in Chicago. Your discovery of the packet of letters was just another manifestation of her feelings about me leaving."
"I don't recall her saying you called."
"I stopped writing when you didn't respond. A few cards once in a while. I guess both of us, in our own ways, cut each other off. I'm sorry about that."
"But you never came to see me?"
"I did. Obviously not enough. I saw you at Christmas that first year, then in spring, and again at your graduation. It was awkward. Your mom didn't want me in the house. You wouldn't visit me at Grandma's. Actually, Grandma didn't want me visiting much either. It took her a long time to get over the disgrace. I deeply regret that my actions cut off your relationship with her. When she died a few years later, I felt part of her heart issues was from me breaking her spirits. I asked you to come down to Chicago, but you never answered me. Do you remember any of that?"
"Not much."
He leaned back into the chair and anger welled up as he suddenly recalled a card on his eighteenth birthday, filled with $50, and words of love--and a request to visit him in Chicago. He tried to push it out of his memory again, but the images of the ripped up pieces of gaily colored paper and currency floating from his hands into the trash jolted him. He wanted to continue to listen to his dad, but realized he had descended so deeply into his past that he couldn't. He had an urgent need to get outside and breathe the dry, nighttime air. "Dad, I need to go. Perhaps we can resume this tomorrow."
"I don't want you to go like this."
"I have to. It's getting late as well."
He stood up and walked to the door, then turned one more time. "I'm sorry, but it's just too hard to continue. I'll call you tomorrow."
By the time he raced down the steps to the fresh air, he was gasping for air, hyperventilating, and when he reached a bench just up the street, he leaned against it, taking deep breaths of the arid breeze. Gradually, he calmed and then walked down the street and up the next within the gated walls. He lost track of where he was and barely acknowledged the few night strollers he passed. The tears backed off through one block, then simply crossing the street seemed to bring them rushing out again. He glanced at his watch and guessed he'd been walking for thirty minutes. Suddenly he recognized where he was and stood before the door and rang the buzzer. Neither of the men answered him, and he was about to leave when Chester opened the door. "Dan, what are you doing here?"
Embarrassed, he smiled a bit. "I've just left my father."
"Come in. I was waiting for you. I thought you'd call first to tell me you were on the way."
He followed Chester through the foyer and into the living room. "If it's too late, please tell me to go downstairs."
He knew that Chester could see the grief on his face, "Nothing's happened to Larry?"
"We were talking. If I could just sit with you for a while."
"It's fine. Robert's gone to bed with some sleep medication. I took a nap this afternoon after we got back, so I'll be up for a few hours. Let's go into the piano room so we don't wake Robert. Or would you rather go downstairs?"
"I don't know."
"How about I bring you a small glass of whiskey and join you downstairs?"
"Yes. Sounds perfect."
Dan sipped the whiskey and set it on the bedside table. They stretched out together on the bed. Chester held his hand and within a minute Dan was crying, the tears bursting free from his stubborn willfulness. When he looked up, Chester was smiling, sitting up on the bed. He handed Dan a box of tissues and patted his knee. "Your dad never wanted to hurt you, even though he did. It's even truer now. He wants you to be part of the last years of his life."
"It's perfectly obvious, from everything he's said since I arrived. And from everything you and Robert have said and done, too. You're part of his family. And I know, when I sleep on it and think about it for some more days, I'll get used to it and be ready to hear more. I'm going through the pain of adjusting to it."
"Are you angry at what he said?"
"Not at all. I'm angry because I've been angry for forty years. I can't just pivot from it and be something new. It's in me too deeply. It's that deep, seventeen-year-old-shit that responded so perversely with Dad earlier. But now, I need to stop babbling about my hurt feelings. It's quite unbecoming."
"Would you like to be alone?
"So I can stew in this shit by myself. No thanks. If there's an alternative I'd prefer it."
"A quick heads up. Robert approached your dad about singing together tomorrow night, and he's mulling it over."
"Nice. Hope Dad agrees. I'll speak with him tomorrow. Sort things out again."
"I'm going to brush my teeth. Take a shower. Why don't you come back in thirty minutes?"
He was in bed, almost in a doze when Chester re-entered, wearing nothing but a jock strap, his hairy belly overhanging the yellow elastic. Dan laughed. "I thought you could use some brightening up. Hence the color choice. Not many people could see me wearing a jock and not laugh."
Dan laughed again and slipped his fingers under the pouch. "Very cute. You look stylish."
Dan pulled the sheets back and Chester slipped in beside him. "This is our third night. Anything to worry about from Robert's end?"
"Nothing. He knows and is very happy for me."
"Would he like to watch us?"
"I doubt it. He's never talked about that sort of thing."
"What are you in the mood for?"
"We've done a lot already. Even if we cuddle, I'd be very happy. Dan, I like you very much. Hiking with you today was thrilling. To show the mountains off to you. I'm very lucky you've come to renew your life with your father."
"A reason to return perhaps."
"Yes, but you never know. This interlude over these past few nights might never happen again. Maybe your wife will come with you. Or your kids. I'm happy to take advantage like we have."
He kissed Chester on the lips. "Thanks. I'm very happy you seduced me the first night. How did you know?"
"When we drove home from the airport, I picked up something from you. It's never happened before. Some kind of pheromone type of thing. After that I just followed my instinct. But nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It's like I've entered some fantasy erotica story."
"Which chapter is this?
"Hope it's not the last. I haven't enjoyed sex this much for at least a decade. I think about it all day long."
Chester kissed him, holding his lips there, wanting more. Dan touched the lips with his tongue. "Not sure I have the energy or that I'm in the right state of mind."
"I'd be happy to cuddle.""
Dan rolled away from Chester while Chester moved close to him, holding him. "Chester, would you take off the jock strap so I can feel you?"
"Sure, I was thinking it might be like a chastity belt. So I wouldn't do anything provocative."
"That wouldn't be fair. Did you medicate again for me?"
"I'm embarrassed to say yes. Forgive me for having those expectations."
"I pleased you were thinking that way."
Chester's hard cock was resting at the cleavage of Dan's ass cheeks. Dan reached behind him and pulled it in. "At least tease me back there."
"How many times have you had a man inside you?"
"Once with my old friend. We traded. Though he discovered he enjoyed bottoming more. Funny cause he's a burly guy like you."
"I like both as you can see. But it's very thrilling to let a man take control by topping."
Dan pushed back against Chester's cock. So it rested just inside his hole. "Lube me and fuck me again. I want to feel it again. To see how much I like it."
Chester was inside him again a few minutes later. Resting but fully hard. Dan started to fade, the exhaustion of the day taking its toll. He fell asleep with Chester's erect cock inside him.
He slept deeply, even profoundly and didn't notice Chester slip out of the bed. He was startled when he woke and discovered it was nearly 8:30. He quickly showered and saw the note that Robert and Chester were running errands, so he hurried down to his dad's. His father was a bit overwhelmed by his unexpectedly early entrance as he placed fruit and cereal on the table. "Coffee is still hot."
"Have you eaten?" Dan asked.
"A few hours ago. I didn't sleep all that well.
"I'm sorry about last night," Dan said.
"It's understandable."
"I haven't dealt with the anger before. Give me time. It'll all make sense. If not today, then sometime down the road."
"Don't wait too long. You never know with someone who's eighty-two."
Dan ate in silence while his dad sat in the living room. "Have you heard about the sing-a-long?" his dad asked.
Dan joined him with a cup of coffee. "Chester mentioned it. Said you were pondering it."
"I haven't participated since Leslie passed. Even the thought of singing those songs without him makes me a bit weepy. You didn't give me the time to talk about Les last night."
"Chester filled me in. I'm sorry for your loss. I wish I had met him."
"You have to sing, too, that's part of the deal. You can't just sit there and watch us."
"I know."
Dan went for a walk and returned at noon, and they spent most of the afternoon together. His dad gave him a tour of his life in Chicago using his photo albums as a guide. It was easier hearing about that part of their years of separation. Even though he tried to focus on each photograph and listen to his father's explanations, his concentration wavered. All he could hear were the sounds of his father's voice, not what the words were relating. He wanted that voice to match up to what he could remember as a child. Small bits of it did, but mostly it was the monologue of a stranger's words and images, spoken with great kindness and comfort. It made him think that perhaps they had not spoken that often when he was growing up, and at some point in the photo tour, he interrupted and asked just that. His father had looked at him oddly. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm trying to fit the past with the present. It's very difficult. It's all so unfamiliar--even the resonance of your voice."
"I suppose your mother did more talking than I did, but we had moments. I don't expect you to remember them. I've forgotten many of our times together as well. Even though I've seen you for these three days, you still seem much like a stranger to me, Danny. You look so different, and your reticence has given me few openings. You've been evaluating me before you let yourself open up. Today is easier than last night. More of you is coming back. But I'm an old man, so don't expect too much."
"It will take time."
"Do you think of your mother much?"
He was caught off balance. "Some. Not as much as I should, I suppose."
"Darren frequently reminds me of how good you were to her after I left and throughout the years after you moved away."
"She was easy to take care of. Even after the cancer diagnosis. Almost as if she didn't want to be a burden. It could have been a year, but she lasted only a few months. She was never in much pain, never had to leave the house for care."
"It's been almost ten years since she died. I still think about her. I've always known there would be regret."
"That you left?"
"No. That I had to leave her behind."
"She did OK, Dad. We all did."
"Yeah. You're a fine man, Dan. I can tell that much about you after just a few days. I'm very proud of you, you know. What you've become is a lot of your own doing, but your mother had an enormous hand in that, too. So I hope you give her some thought on occasion."
"You had a hand in it, too. I appreciate that. I need you to know that, after all these years."
"I appreciate your words, but what I've done for you is minimal in comparison. I left you on your own, and you've done well. Congratulations."
"Some of it's just luck."
"I know that, too, and perseverance and trusting yourself and the people you love."
Then he felt the emotion overwhelm him again. "I wish I hadn't been so angry."
He had leaned back against the sofa and felt the tears fall again. He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, "I can tell. We'll persevere and regain our trust. I can tell you're trying to do that right now."
They sat in silence for fifteen minutes, sitting so closely that he could feel his father's hips against his. Finally, he took his father's hand in his own, "Your hands don't look so old. Mom's seemed much older as I held them in her dying days."
"I don't do much with them, except slip CD's in and out of their cases."
"Do you ever miss the old days when you did so much accounting with your fingers?"
"Not for a second."
"Good. You seem like a happy man."
"I guess so, all things considered."
"That's always the qualifier, isn't it?"
"You're right. Wouldn't be fair if it were any other way."
In late afternoon, they had a light dinner with Robert and Chester, and Chester played lovely song after lovely song. His father had been hesitant about singing at first, but when Dan joined in and he heard his son's voice following the melodies they both knew so well, he reluctantly added his voice. After a few songs, the four of them sang out as one chorus. Then they reached the end and Chester asked his dad if he would sing with them to "These Foolish Things," a song that had been a special tribute to the love Larry and Leslie had shared. He paused, until Dan put his arm around his shoulder. "I'll help him get through the lyrics." He expected his father to falter, but he did not break down one time, and at song's end, Robert kissed Chester sweetly on the lips, and he turned to his dad and embraced him.
As he was preparing for bed, Chester visited him in his room, "I can tell you enjoyed the singing."
"I love the old songs."
"There was great joy your voice. More than just doing it for your dad."
"Hope I wasn't off on too many notes."
"No more than the rest of us."
"It's been a pleasure meeting you and Robert. I'm so grateful."
"About last few nights, I told you that you're the first in a very long time. I wasn't lying."
"It wouldn't matter if you'd seen someone more recently. I'd understand."
"You're very generous in bed. You're previous partners must have enjoyed you."
"There have only been a couple."
"You are an amazing man. Living your double life. Yet so generous when you drift in my world of men."
"My stay here has been overwhelming in so many ways. And you, in my bed each night, have been some of the best moments in my life."
"You don't need to butter me up."
They both laughed. "Chester, you've made me feel as good as I've ever felt."
"Even last night? You know you fell asleep with me inside you?"
Dan blushed. "I didn't feel your cum there this morning when I woke."
"Of course not. I couldn't do that to a sleeping man. But it was very nice to be resting there."
"We have to get up at four for my early flight. Are still OK taking me there?"
"Yes. I think I'll spend the night with you and get up when you do. If that's OK?"
"Wonderful. I should go upstairs and say goodbye to Robert."
"Yes, he's in our bedroom. Go right in. He's expecting you."
Robert was resting with a magazine. He looked up and smiled. "Hi, Danny. Hope you don't mind me using your pet name like Larry does sometimes."
"You've earned the right hosting me. Thanks for that and for everything you do for him. Without you two, Darren and I would have to recalculate everything regarding where he lives and the help he gets and will need to get down the road."
"We love him. And thanks for helping out with Chester."
Dan looked at him strangely. "Taking him out hiking and giving him something to do. He gets bored so easily. He's been so happy with you visiting."
"I enjoy both of you."
He reached out his hand, but Robert said, "I'll get up. Give you a proper embrace since I won't see you tomorrow."
Robert was naked under the sheets. "I could cover up, but you're a grown man."
They hugged and Robert kissed him sweetly on his mouth. "I wish my cock were in working order. I might have enjoyed you as much as Chester."
Dan opened his mouth in shock. Before he could say a word, Robert smiled and said, "He needs it so much. Thank you for helping. Please come again. And if you can visit alone, that would make it even better."
Chester laughed when Dan told him about his farewell with Robert. "I hope you find your way back to your friend. I can tell you love him a great deal."
"How would you know that?"
"Because of the way you make love with me. And you were calling out to someone named Ben in your sleep."
Dan laughed. They settled in for the night and made love one more time. As Dan touched Chester's ass in preparation for fucking him, thoughts of Ben swirled in his head mixed with the greens and purples and reds of the northern lights.