"Put your cap back on Mickey, one more picture!" his mom called out as she motioned them to stand closer together.
"Last one!" Mickey shot back as he put the black mortarboard back on his head.
Before he could pose, Drew used his finger to flick the tassel in front of Mickey's face, triggering a playful revenge attack on Drew's own mortarboard.
`Knock it off you two!" Nate ordered, forcing himself between them. "This is beginning to feel more like kindergarten graduation."
After Nate restored calm and put everyone back in order, she looked at the screen of the phone and saw her son, Drew and Nate flanking his sister Casey, Drew's sister, and Midori, Nate's wife.
"Smile," she cried out, though she didn't' need to. They were all beaming, Mickey and Drew in their caps and gowns and the rest them still wearing the dressy clothes from the ceremonies. She waited a moment for the breeze to die down before tapping the glass.
"OK, I think that will be enough," Mrs. Deringer said after focusing her eyes on the screen and reviewing the shot.
`That's the best one,' she thought to herself.
"So, we can take these off now and get going, yes? I'm broiling in this gown, and we want to get as much packing as possible finished before tonight," Mickey pleaded.
`And I need to get working to make an offer on that house!' he thought to himself.
"Me, too, this tie is coming off now!" Nate added, reaching for his tie.
But before he could loosen the knot, Midori grabbed his hand. "Are you all done with the pictures that you want to take, Mom," she called out to Mrs. Deringer, who was saving the picture to her folder of graduation shots.
"Yes, they're all done, at least for now, so at ease, gentleman," she called back, "but I've got lots of memory left in this," she said as she shook her phone at Mickey and Nate.
After her taunt she carefully placed it into the large opening of the wrinkled leather purse that was slung over her shoulder.
These days, that purse was a lot bigger than necessary. But after all those years of carrying meds or bandages or ointments for Mickey, it had almost become part of her. She felt like she wasn't prepared for the day without feeling that purse tugging on her shoulder.
She approached her son as Casey was reaching up to help him unlatch the back of the gown.
"Going home can wait a little bit, Mickey," she said, taking the mortarboard from him as Casey pulled the billowing fabric from around him. "Savor the moment, OK? You've just accomplished something really amazing. You're one of the top students at one of the top law schools anywhere. And you've done it all on your own. You should enjoy this."
Looking at her drawn face, he knew where practically every wrinkle came from. Though she was probably on the younger side of most of the other law parents, Mickey couldn't help but see that she looked amongst the oldest.
"I didn't do anything myself, Mom," he replied. Then, looking again at her etched face, he reached over and hugged her. "I wouldn't be here without you!" he whispered in her ear.
She felt so frail, he thought. And so small! Maybe it was just because of comparison to the size and solidity of Drew, the only other person that he held so often. It was another one of those moments that he was happy to have made the decision to go home. And sooner rather than later.
As he released the hug, she playfully placed the mortarboard back on his head. "I'm so proud of you," she said softly, then reached over pulled Drew and the others into a family-wide embrace. " And all of you, too!"
`I'm the luckiest person ever,'" she thought to herself.
Leaving his family behind in the neo-gothic cloisters of the law school courtyard to return his gown, Mickey walked underneath the arched stone opening for perhaps the last time. Strolling down the wood paneled hallway, he passed the dean's office, a route that he had traced many days before.
But this time he heard his name called out.
"Mickey,' could I speak with you for a moment?" the voice asked. It took a moment to realize that it was the associate dean of the school.
He turned and faced the voice, "um...yeah, sure. I need to return this, and I have people waiting for me outside. So, I've just got a minute, but..."
"No problem, he quietly interrupted. "it won't take long.'
As Mickey entered the room, the dean closed the door behind him, which gave Mickey a momentary pause. Nonetheless, he continued into the room
"Have a seat,' the former professor said, motioning to the overstuffed leather chair facing his desk. Behind him, Mickey could see the courtyard, with his family chatting amongst other visitors and graduating students.
"I know that you are in a bit of a hurry, so I'll get to the point," he said, pulling his huge tufted leather chair in behind him as he returned to his desk.
"I wanted to ask you why you turned down a clerkship at the Supreme Court. As you know, it's a real honor and virtually all of your classmates, not to mention students across the country, would do just about anything for that opportunity."
"Well, first of all," Mickey started, his offense at the question tempered by an innate respect for academic authority. "I don't really have an offer, it was just part of a conversation. And neither of us pursued it, so I just dropped it there."
"That's just a detail. I know from one of the other alumni justices that she would offer you a clerkship in a heartbeat. She means what she says. So why not pursue it?" he asked.
Mickey's mind was rapidly calculating, trying to figure out what this rather personal questioning was all about.
"To be honest, I've been away from home since I was 13, since the third form, I mean freshman year,'" he added, translating the Middlefield system into typical American grade label. "I want to be with my family. My mom is getting older and I don't want to drag my partner around the country any more than I have to. He's already moving to Ohio with me which is a big step for him and a lot more than I had a right to ask for."
"Yes, that part of your personal situation is well known," the dean replied, as if this detail were somehow incidental or unimportant. "But you know, Mickey, this year Columbia and Stanford and us all have four clerks, the highest number. If we had one more we'd be tops again for the fifth year. I'm very proud of that record and would like to see it continue.
"And if you were to do that, there would be a lot more. We, or rather, I, have a lot of connections in the profession which could be very useful in your future career. And, as good as you are, each of us could use a good word or connection occasionally. Even stars like you..."
It was hard to tell if the polished speech came from enthusiasm or practice, or maybe both, but he couldn't seem to stop talking. Mickey listened politely but quickly realized the he should respond and engage as little as possible, as any exchange would just extend the conversation.
Gradually, the image of the dean in front of him faded out as his eyes focused on his Drew, his Mom, Casey, Nate and Midori out in the courtyard. The dean's self-interest was becoming all too apparent and Mickey was about to speak, to somehow politely wriggle out of this awkward situation, until he again heard the dean's voice.
"This is not a politically correct thing to say, but, your... um... personal circumstances and affairs don't often stay the same after graduation. People and circumstances change and we, how should I say...outgrow things. Because of that, I found that it's most prudent to advise students to look out for themselves and try to adjust personal um...relationships accordingly..."
`Is he saying what I think he's saying?' Mickey thought to himself.
It was starting to feel like it was 100 degrees in that office, even though he knew it was air conditioned. Again looking beyond the head in front of him, he noticed how Drew had glanced at his watch.
He quickly glanced down at his own. It had been almost a half-hour since he left them!
Drew looked at the door the Mickey had entered, glanced at the watch again and looked at the door one more time. He said something to the rest of the family than quickly turned and headed toward the door.
"I need to leave!" Mickey announced, interrupting the Dean in mid-sentence. Stuffing the gown underneath his arm, he quickly got up from the chair and raced toward the door. "I've made my decision and I need to go," he called back, not bothering to turn around.
"Mickey!" the Dean cried out after him, rising from the chair that was the scale of a throne. "You're not really thinking this through, you need to think about this more."
"I did that a long time ago," he answered, accidentally slamming the door behind him as he ran down the corridor.
He headed back to the courtyard entrance to head-off Drew, who had just turned the corner and was trotting toward him.
"Are you OK?" he asked, his voice echoing off the hard surfaces of the stone floor and arched ceiling.
"I am! I am! Sorry, I didn't come right out. I was accosted by the associate Dean."
"What!?" Drew asked, now standing beside him. Mickey noticed Drew was trying not very successfully to control his breathing, his worry and anxiety unmistakable.
Putting his hand on Drew's shoulder, Mickey said, "I'll explain later. Let's go and return this gown and then we can meet everyone else and go to dinner."
Before Mickey could even turn his head, Drew's hand was on his chest, fixing him in place. "You're sure you're OK?"
Needlessly worrying Drew was the worst feeling in the world for him. He held the gown tightly with his left hand and pulled Drew close for a kiss on the cheek. "I'm good. Let's take this rag back and get rid of it. Then we can talk."
"Ok, but let me text your brother first. I think I got him all kind of worried about you."
"Where are Casey and Drew? I thought that they'd be back here by now," she said as she wiped down the counters in the kitchen of their tiny apartment.
Mickey had told her that it had been a blow for Drew to have to be in such a small place, so she felt a duty to keep it as neat and tidy as possible whenever she was there. But that was for Mickey. She knew Drew didn't care.
Mickey cleared his throat as he cleaned some of the last items out of the freezer, mostly frozen meats and noodles that they never had a chance to use. "Um...you know, Drew and I want to start a family, mom, so we're trying to figure out how to do that. There are a lot of options, you know. None of them exactly simple. But one of them is to find an egg donor, and, well, Casey might be the right person.
"He thought it was best that he approached her alone to talk about it, which makes sense. We don't need to do anything immediately, of course, but wanted to know if she's a possibility."
She tore off a piece of paper towel and dampened it before wiping up the crumbs from a chocolate graduation cake that Drew had baked two days previously.
"Gosh, you have to plan and figure this out. At least there are options, like you say, but all of them take time and effort and are complicated in one way or another. Not to mention money. When we had you, it was just..." she abruptly stopped.
"I was just `what?'" he asked, turning and staring at her. A lump of hard ground meat in aluminum foil almost fell out of his hand.
She continued her chore. "Let's just say it was a lot simpler," she answered before turning away,
It seemed wise not to pursue this questioning and he let it drop.
"You know Mickey, you've got your cousin that you might also ask. I know that you probably haven't talked to her in years, but, who knows, she might be a possible candidate."
Mickey chuckled. "You're right, it's been years. The last time I saw her she was about 12, so that's the only image that I have of her.
"Thinking of a 12-year-old as a mom is not a great image," he replied.
"Your cousin is a lot older now, as you know," she countered, finishing the cleanup as she put the wet paper towel into the trash. "I have no idea what her situation is, but just a thought."
It was quiet for a moment until Mickey spoke.
"Dad's family has always been kind of distant, so even growing up I hardly knew her.
"Any distance wasn't because of her, it was mostly her Dad, I think, your Uncle. He was something of a snob, and didn't want his daughter mixing with the wrong types. But she always seemed like a decent person, probably more than either of her parents."
Mickey cocked his head in the way the he sometimes did when he was thinking deeply. Then he looked at his Mom.
"Do you know what she's doing these days?" he asked.
"Like I said, not really. It's been forever since we had contact. After your Dad died, they didn't feel like they had to have anything to do with us, and probably blamed me for what happened. In any case, she was kind of a bright girl, and not unattractive, so maybe..."
Mickey groaned, his hands grasping behind his neck. "It's crazy, she might be some homophobe for all I know, or weirdo, or whatever. She might just think I'm crazy to ask something like this. In any case, it might be an interesting thought for the future, maybe there's a chance. But I'm not going to worry about it now."
He was amused that his mom would mention his cousin's looks. He and Drew had sometimes joked about their search being compared to a breeding program. And here it was, sort of.
After Mickey went to finish the bedroom packing, Mrs. Deringer called out to him. "Can I use your computer on the table here, Mickey?
"Sure, go ahead, I'm already logged in."
She hit the Google icon and started her search
"Casey's good?" Mickey asked, his eyes wide open. These were the times that Drew noticed
the rough landscape of his scars. For most people, the skin only moved around their eyes when blinking, but for Mickey the entire side of his face pulled up. In the past, he had assured Drew that it didn't hurt. At least this time, talking about something so important, he knew that it wouldn't matter to Mickey even if the skin did strain a bit.
"Yeah, wow. She was really touched that we asked her. I told her that this didn't mean that she could have sex with you."
Mickey's eyes were now wide open again. "What! You said that?"
"Just teasing!" he responded, pulling Mickey close. He then lightheartedly pushed him away, then pulled him close again. As they often did, they held each other without speaking, rocking back and forth.
Pulling his head off Drew's shoulder, Mickey looked up at him. "One step down, fifty to go," he mused.
"Yeah, there's really a lot yet to do. But I think this is the hardest part."
"Is Casey worried about what your Dad might think?"
"Interesting that you ask that."
"Why?"
"I don't want to read too much into this, but we also talked a lot about just that subject. How he would react to something like this."
He sat down on the couch, Mickey closely following him, their bodies landing at almost the same time. Daisy, who had been sleeping in the corner of the room, looked up at them and moseyed over, her head resting on Drew's foot.
"She says that he's been asking her more and more business questions. Big picture stuff, actually, the kinds of things he used to bounce off me. While she likes to be a sounding board, and does the best she can, it's really not what she's neither interested in, nor likes to talk about."
"Just what you could do, and would be really good at!" Mickey exclaimed.
Drew returned a weak smile. "I know his businesses are really suffering. I wish I could help, but he's got a wife and stepsons now. And besides, I'm going to be a full-time Dad, and need to focus on the kids."
"You could do both if you had to, I mean, if it would make a difference for him. We could make it work!" Mickey added.
"I think that I could do a lot for him just talking and strategizing. I wouldn't want a full time job, I would rather be an informal adviser. That would be ideal," a brief flash of enthusiasm in his voice. "But we can just deal with the real stuff now," he continued. "And the real stuff is that you're going to work and, if we can snag that one house, I'll get it fixed up and ready for this kid.
"Going back to the question about how he would react, she had some hope that it would change his attitude a bit. If he knew that he had a grandson out there, she doesn't see how he could not be involved with him.
"On that point, I'm not sure that I agreed with her. I'm his son, and look how he's distanced himself from me. How could it be more difficult with a grandson?"
Mickey reached over and stroked his shoulder. "I still can't believe that it's easy for him now. You guys were close, and I'd like to think that somehow, he'll come around."
Drew sighed. "If he were single, I would be more optimistic. But as time goes on, I think that he's more and more involved with his new family, and Casey and I are just slipping away from him."
Mickey noticed that his eyes just seemed to be staring off into the distance.
"It's hard to tell exactly what's happening," Mickey said. "If he's talking to Casey about business, I can't help but think that he is missing you. Like you mentioned, she was never very interested and a smart guy like him would sense that."
Drew looked at Mickey and smiled. "Thanks," he said softly, bumping his head into Mickey's.
Raising only his foot, he slowly lifted Daisy's head. "You OK too, girl?" he asked.
"You'll only have three days of rest after this trip before starting work. Are you sure you want to do that?" Drew asked again as they put one more box into the back of Nate and Midori's car. The sun had barely risen but there was a long drive ahead.
"I'm sure that they'd be flexible, but I need to start work for us to get the mortgage process officially going and then be able to make an offer on that house. And then we can get the in vitro thing going, too."
Drew moved the box slightly to the right and then stuffed in a duffel bag that they had saved for whatever tiny crevices were open at the end. Once he had crammed it in, he turned to Mickey.
"A few days more of rest won't hurt. We both want to move ahead on all this stuff, but it's important to pace things and not rush, too. You'll still have job, and there are other houses out there if we miss that one."
Mickey paused, then looked at Drew. "I know I might be rushing things, babe. But, gosh, I don't' know. I just feel like I've lost so much time being away from home. I want to us to get started. I want it really bad."
"Talking to that asshole associate dean! Damn, he made it even worse. Not only do I want to get started," he added. "I want to get out of here.
"But I'll be OK, babe, all right? I know I sound a bit manic, but I'll get over it. I feel like this is the next stage of our life, and I can't wait to start!," he said, bumping his shoulder into Drew.
Drew smiled, but only slightly. "I know, babe, I understand. I feel that way too," he responded.
Mickey was hoping that he was giving in, but almost knew better.
"By the way, If you insist on starting so soon, then I'm going to insist on driving all the way. Just so you know that," Drew proclaimed.
"You can't do that! We need to share. It's a whole day of driving and you'll get really tired."
"I'll turn it over to you if I get too tired and don't feel safe. But don't count on that. I really want you to relax and get as much rest as possible."
Drew pulled out both sets of car keys and shook them in front of him. "And just in case you get any ideas, I've got both of these beauties and I'm not about to surrender them."
"I want you to sleep as much as possible on the trip and get some rest. And the sooner we get on the road the sooner we arrive, so let's get packed and on our way," he said.
"Nate has been nice enough to take a lot of our stuff, including your Mom, all the way back to Ohio. We should let them get going, too," he said.
He needed an extra push to stuff all the clothes and boxes into their small, old shabby SUV. Finally he heard the click of the lock. "I'll go and get Daisy," he said before rubbing Mickey's back and walking towards the apartment.
Mickey's mom, who had watched the exchange, moved over and stood next to her son as he stared at Drew. She noticed how he sighed before reaching into the back seat and spreading out their blanket to make sure that Daisy had a nice place to park herself.
She thought about similar arguments with Mickey's father that never ended well, usually in anger and frustration on both sides, mostly hers. After he had died, she'd realized something about so many encounters with him that turned into confrontations and fights.
When she would suggest or try to get him to do something, he often seemed to think that she was giving orders, was looking out for herself, wanted to be the boss. There wasn't any trust that the intent wasn't selfish or that she was just trying to help.
When she sees her son and Drew, and even Nate and Midori, in the same situation, the feelings are very different. It isn't a power trip. They both assume that the other is always thinking of what's best for them, no matter what. Sometimes, it's easier. But usually, it's harder work for the one who seems to be taking charge. A lot harder.
After just a few minutes, Drew returned with Daisy and helped the aging pooch into the car, lifting her hind legs in as Mickey reached over from the other side of the car and gently pulled her in. In contrast to the overstuffed back of the car, the middle seat was spaciously laid out for her to lounge as she liked.
Before they parted, she gave her son a hug like she always did. But she found that she almost couldn't let go of Drew as she said goodbye.