Disclaimer:
The following story is the eighth installment in an on going series about Stephen Gately from Boyzone and what I imagine to be the story behind the beginning of his relationship with Eloy de Jong from Caught in the Act. I have no contact with either person, nor know any of the members of either group.
The tour took up most of Stephen's time, especially once they expanded it to include more venues since they were having record sales. The boyz were getting a little tired on tour, but each night the power of the crowd energized them and kept them going on to the next city, night after night.
When he got a chance, he would sit down at the desk in his hotel room and using some Goofy notepaper that he picked up in one of the gift shops, he'd write off little funny notes to people. He's send off notes to his nephews Jordan and Brandon, another for Michelle, and the last one he wrote each time was to Eloy. It was a good way to wind down from the show, though the lads noticed he wasn't hanging out in the bar after the shows. But he found he would rather come upstairs and sit for a bit, sharing his day with the people he cared about but seldom had time to see.
He finished off his letter to Eloy and sat back in the chair. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he closed his eyes and tried to picture Eloy opening up the mail and reading it. A smile crept onto his face, and he hoped that Eloy was enjoying them and not getting annoyed by them all. Each time he sent one off, it was with a silent wish that it be taken in the spirit it was given. He hadn't had a chance to talk to anyone, since once again, he had trashed his mobile and was waiting for a replacement. Barrie joked that he was the only person he knew who could manage to get it trashed within a week of getting it replaced. But that was how he actually got himself started on writing the notes, using the mobile as an excuse for writing instead.
Yawning, he looked at his watch. He thought about going downstairs, but the lethargy that he felt convinced him otherwise. He got up, stripped out of his robe and went into the bathroom to wash. He had been so focused in what he wanted to write that he hadn't even taken his customary shower first. Turning on the shower, he grabbed his bathroom kit and placed it on the edge of toilet seat where he could reach it easily. He sighed as he climbed over the high edge of the tub, the hot spray hitting his head and running down his back. Reaching out, he grabbed his shampoo from his kit and squirted the bottle onto his head. He put the bottle on the shelf and worked his hair into a lather. He flashed back to a similar time in the shower from a few weeks ago as he closed his eyes, except it was Eloy's fingers scrubbing his head. He got a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Breathing a little ragged, he kept his eyes closed and imagined Eloy's fingers tracing down from his head along his chest, teasing a nipple on the way down to his stomach. A gasp escaped from his mouth as his hand lingered, lightly brushing the pubic hair at the base of his stomach. He felt himself get hard and his fingers hesitated slightly before encircling his penis.
Leaning against the shower wall, he stroked himself, listening in his mind to the soft words that Eloy had murmured when they were together. His breathing was more harsh as he panted, stroking himself up and down. After a few moments, he stopped and slowly sank to the bottom of the tub. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sat under the spray of the shower, the shampoo streaming down his face. Head bowed, he placed his hands flat on the tub floor. He physically ached with the need to be held. Wrapping his arms around himself, he rocked back and forth under the force of the water.....
Eloy was in the kitchen making coffee when he heard the mail truck drive by in the street below. He stood by the counter, barefoot, wearing cutoffs and an old tank top. Putting his coffee cup on the counter, he went downstairs to see if there was anything interesting. He didn't meet anyone on the stairs on the way down to the lobby, and was able to get his mail from his box uninterrupted. He raced up the stairs and headed back to the kitchen. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he absently flipped through the pile of mail. There was the usual stuff --- letters from fans, a request for a promotional appearance here or there, an occasional bill. Most of it seemed rather uninteresting. But in the midst of the mail was a letter with handwriting that looked vaguely familiar. Puzzled, he looked at the postmark and saw that it was from the UK. There was no return address.
Intrigued, he carried the mail to the table. Tossing most of it on the table, he took the letter with him upstairs to the deck. The more he worked on this apartment, the better he liked it. It was the antithesis of his last home, full of plants and light. Carlo had preferred a darker décor and the curtains drawn all the time. This new place had a skylight in the kitchen, with steps leading to the rooftop deck that he had all to himself. It was the kitchen that had decided the place for him. He saw the light oak beams and cabinetry, and the hanging plants all around and knew he could come to enjoy this place.
Out on the deck, he sat down at the patio table with his coffee, propped up his feet on the opposing chair, and opened the letter. A smile crept upon his face as he opened the stationary with Goofy at the top and Stephen's signature scrawled at the bottom. The handwriting tended to sprawl across the page, in dips and valleys and Eloy suddenly had a mental picture of Stephen writing this letter, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Sitting back in the chair and shading his eyes with one hand from the glare of the sun, he read the letter.
"Hey Eloy!
Look at this, a letter from Goofy (and me of course!) I'm sorry if you've tried to reach me at all, but once again my mobile has gone the way of the dinosaur, or dodo, or whatever! I think it ended up under the tire of the bus, to be honest. Barrie did claim to hear a squawk as we pulled out of the last show. So instead, while I wait for Nokia to dig me up a new one, I'm resorting to old-fashioned letter writing. Lord, but I don't think I've done this since the year I tried to be pen pals with some boy in the States.... That was ages ago. Sorry for any misspellings, but I'll try my best...
We played Glasgow last night. It was a fantastic show, thank God, and despite some of the craziness --- you know that sort of thing --- the lighting truck went array, didn't show up until about 3 hours before the show and they had to make do with what they could get up in the hour before the doors opened. I think we did the whole thing by candlelight, actually! Very romantic. But with all the technical snafoos, we had a great time. Keith got himself pissed while we were waiting to go on. What a laugh! Sometimes I think he sings better when he's pissed. But don't ever tell him I said that!
Shane has been playing with the fates, as well. He and Ro went skateboarding backstage and he wiped out into the backup supply for the pyro part of the show. Scared the bejeeezus out of everyone! I swear, sometimes I think he does it just to get a reaction. I hid in the back waiting for everything to blow up. Luckily it didn't. Ro was laughing his fool arse off, thought it was hysterical. Sometimes I think he makes things worse.
Speaking of Ro, I think he's really hooked on this gal he's been seeing. All sorts of cloak-and-dagger stuff to see her without anyone knowing during our short breaks. She's a lovely lass, pretty as can be. They really look well together and you can see she adores him. And though she's not in the music biz, she does modelling, so she at least understands the crazy kind of travelling we have to do. Not sure if this is the one, but it does keep his mind off his mam, God Bless her. How he goes on with her doing so poorly, I don't know. If it were my mam, I'd be out of my mind. But sometimes the crazy pace helps, because then he doesn't have time to think. Every night I pray for her and ask God to help his family out. His da must be a wreck with all this.
They've extended our tour out to Italy and Spain, and Louis P's people are talking France, too. Lord, but its been a great run, but weather our voices can take the whole thing will be another story. I think we're going to try to push for a break before we start the Europe part of the tour. But with this extension, it pushes things right up to when we go back into the studio again. No rest for the weery. Ah well.
Hope things are well for you and that you're getting along fine. And that you don't mind these little rambling notes from time to time. It helps pass the time on the buss to the next gig, and when I'm relaxing in my room.
Say hi to your mom and Luci for me if you get a chance. After telling me so much about them, I feel like I know them.
Take care and God Bless,
Stephen
PS - Minnie is quite the bedwarmer, by the way! Keeps me company at night."
Eloy grinned as he read the letter, mentally picturing each person as Stephen referred to them. The image of Stephen cuddling with the Minnie Mouse doll that he had bought in Euro Disney made him chuckle. He noted with amusement the crossed out words where Stephen had tried to correct his spelling and failed. It seemed the more hurried he was, the worse it got. Not that Eloy minded that. It was very sweet that he had taken the time to write at all.
He stared off into the distance, lost in thought. From his deck he could see over several buildings to where the canals snaked around the city. People were out in boats, sailing around on this lazy afternoon. A shout from a child in the street below echoed up the walls. The ringing of the phone cut into his thoughts and folding the letter, he tucked it into his pocket as he went back into the kitchen.
"Hallo," he said as he picked up the phone. It was Lee, his band mate, to tell him that they were back on for the album again and that if possible, they could start recording by the end of the week. They chatted for a bit, talking about what each of them had been up to in this short break they had had. Telling Lee he'd be there on Friday, he hung up the phone.
Things were beginning to look right in the world, now that he had had a few weeks to settle in to his new place and get into a rhythm again. Getting back into the studio was a good start, and he went into the next room to pick up the songs he had been working on before everything had been stopped. Slouching down onto the sofa, he put on his headphones and punched the new song up on the stereo. From time to time, he glanced occasionally to the paper in his pocket and smiled....
As Boyzone stepped out of the van at the record store, flashes went off in every direction, and the din from the screaming fans drowned out whatever greeting the manager of the local HMV had to say. Smiling without hearing a word, the lads all shook hands with the manager and the visiting local DJ, then posed at the front of the store for pictures. Shouts from the paparazzi called from every direction, trying to get them to look towards them. "Steve!" "Ronan, over here!" "Mikey, look this way!" "All together boyz, let's have a smile!" "Shane, show us that new tattoo!" "Keet, give us that winning smile!" Together, the shouts mingled into one blur, until after a few moments, the manager made gestures for them to come over and cut the ribbon to the new store.
This was the third promotional stop they had made today, and the sunglasses hid how tired each of the boyz were. The first had been to a local community hospital where they had surprised the children in the ward by coming in and serenading them. The second had been a stop to a local newspaper where they had stopped for an interview and pictures. By this afternoon stop, they were all dragging. Especially after doing a show the night before and being in a bus all night to get to this area for the promotional gigs. Many of these had been booked before they had added to their tour, and Louis insisted that they keep up the pace by making all these commitments. He had always said that the pace could be a killer, but any promotion was good promotion. The boyz trusted him, since it seemed like at times Louis had the Midas touch... everything always turned out exactly as he said. And they all owed him a deep depth of gratitude for all that he had done in making them what they were today.
The manager pantomimed what they had to do, since no one could be heard over the screams of the crowd. Police were standing by the fences, making sure that the fans kept their distance. Stephen could see some of them standing at the barriers, tears streaming down their faces. He was a little lost at that kind of reaction, since some of these girls got so hysterical that they had been known to faint on occasion. That kind of reaction really scared him, because he was so afraid they'd get hurt in the crush of the crowd. The boyz all stood back as Ronan stood next to the manager and grabbed the large pair of scissors that were to be used to cut the ribbon. Motioning the rest forward, the official photographer pushed them into position until he got the image he was looking for. Smiles pasted on their faces, they were relieved when the ribbon was finally cut and they could go inside.
Not that the inside was any better. Fans who had won special passes from the radio station crammed the inside of the store as they waited to meet their idols. A table was set up at the end of the store and as they made their way over, girls pulled on their clothing, screaming their names for attention. Barrie's crew was in full force, watching over the crowd.
One little girl was up against the barrier and Stephen's heart went out to her, crushed as she was by the press of the other girls vying for the boyz' attention. Motioning Ben over, he whispered in his ear, pointing out the little one. Ben obligingly went over and pulled her over the barrier, saving her from potentially getting crushed. She burst into tears with the sudden release and Stephen could see that Ben was at a loss at what to do. Walking over, he held out his arms and took the little girl from the security guard, cuddling her closely.
"Ah, now, there, love. Nothing to fret about. We just didn't want to see you smooshed up against the fence is all. Hush now, love. Everything's all right." He scanned the crowd and saw a woman looking on anxiously and knew he had found the girl's mother. "Why don't we find your mam, all right?" She stopped crying and looked at all the screaming girls who were calling for Stephen's attention. It was only then that she realized where she was. Wrapping her arms around Stephen's neck, she buried her head against his shoulder, suddenly shy. With Ben shadowing him, he made his way over to where the young girl's mother had made her way through the crowd to the edge of the barrier, with her arms held out for her daughter.
"Christy, I'm here, honey. Its all right," she called as Stephen approached. More security came over to hold the fans off as Stephen smiled at the girl's mother and handed her over. They had a bit of a tangle since by this time, the girl was so scared she wouldn't let go of Stephen's neck. With a chuckle he tickled her, assuring her that her mom would take care of her now. Andrew, another one of Barrie's force who had more experience with kids helped to pry the little girl off of Stephen and hand her back to her mom. With a gentle stroke on her cheek Stephen told her he'd see her later on. Then the security whisked him away to where the rest of the boyz were already seated at the table.
"I'm glad you got to her," Mikey said as he sat down between him and Shane. "If you hadn't have done it, I would have right behind you."
Stephen smiled at Mikey, not really seeing much of anything in the glare of flashes that were going off in their faces. "Yeah, I figured one of us had to do it. Poor little one. She was bound to be crushed by this crowd. Well, she's safe with her mam now."
Shane elbowed him and gave him a wink as the line for autographs moved forward. Getting out his marker, he smiled at the first girl who placed a poster in front of him and chatted with her briefly as he signed her poster and took a little stuff animal gift from her. From there, he lost track of the number of people he talked to. Occasionally the DJ would walk through, talking to fans waiting in line and broadcasting their meeting their favorites. There were all ages there, from the little girl that he had helped save earlier to older women about his mam's age who came with no kids and had their own CDs that they wanted signed. After a while, his hand began to ache and occasionally he tried to shift position to ease the cramp in his arm from having to write so much.
It seemed like the line would never end. The boyz were at the end of their endurance when they were finally set free and allowed to go to their hotel. Even then there was a crowd outside waiting for them at the back door of the record store and again at the hotel they were staying at. With stifled groans, they got out of the van, waving, but not stopping on their way into the hotel. Their tour management had arranged to get them checked in so all they had to do was walk into the lobby and up to their rooms.
As the elevator doors closed, Ronan leaned against the back wall with a sigh. Keith looked over in concern and wrapped his arm around the younger man, letting Ro rest his head on his shoulder. None of them said anything, not having any need to articulate how their day went. When the doors opened, they all trudged to their rooms, Ben opening the door for each. With tired waves, they all bade goodnight to each other. It was time to crash --- no hanging out in the bar for them this night.
Stephen entered his room and as the door closed behind him, listened blissfully to the silence. His whole body reverberated from the events of the day. He just leaned against the door for a moment with his eyes closed, enjoying the moment. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again and looked around the room. The light by the night table was on, giving the room a warm glow. His suitcase was on the end of the bed, waiting for him. With a grunt he pushed himself away from the door and over to the bed. Sitting down next to the suitcase, he leaned down to untie his boots. He felt like every muscle ached from the pace he had been keeping.
The phone rang with a shrill ring. Stephen debated not even picking it up, but as it cut through the blessed silence of the room, he found he had to make it stop.
"Hullo?" He almost mumbled into the phone. It was Mark, their tour manager, asking if he could have anything sent up to the room. The thought of food didn't even remotely appeal, and he told Mark he'd rather just go to bed. Bidding him goodnight, he hung up the phone and lay back on the bed. He thought about just saying the hell with it and sleeping like that, but knew he wouldn't be comfortable the next morning.
Stifling another groan, he pulled himself up and pushed his suitcase off the bed. Unbuckling the straps holding the battered case together, he unlatched the case and opened it. On top of his clothes was a note. Frowning, Stephen picked it up.
"Steve! Don't forget to call your sister. It's the 19th! - Alex"
"Oh, shite!" Stephen swore softly. He continued to swear softly as he limped over to the phone and sat down on the bed. There was no way he could avoid calling his sister on her birthday. He had totally lost track of the dates because while on tour, one day just blurred into another. Crawling onto the bed, he pulled the phone with him, and leaned against the headboard. Placing the phone in his lap, he punched in his sister's number and listened to the tinny ring as it crossed over to Ireland.
"Hello," a soft voice said as his sister picked up the phone.
"Happy birthday, honey," Stephen said quietly, then launched into a short rendition of Happy Birthday Baby.
"Oh, Stephen, thank you, sweetie. You're a love, you know that, don't you?" Michelle said, happy that her little brother had taken the time to call. She could hear how tired he sounded and her heart went out to him.
"Not me. I am calling also to apologise, because I owe you a birthday present." Stephen was mad at himself for letting the time get away from him. "I meant to get something in the mail to you, but everything's been so mad lately that I just lost track of the time. I'm sorry, Shel."
"Ah, don't you worry yourself, Steve. Its not like you're sitting on your duff not doing anything. I know you're busy. Don't be silly!" She admonished him. She could tell that he was tired enough that this kind of thing could spiral him down and she didn't want that to happen. She was just so tickled that he had called. "And if you even start to get down on yourself, mister, I'll come through this phone and spank you!"
He couldn't help himself. It was such a ridiculous image that he burst into laughter. She joined him and he relaxed as he listened to her melodious laugh. "Thanks, Shel.... I needed that! I really did. How are you? Did you have a good day today?"
"Oh, lovely, hon. Alan stayed home from work and pampered me. Fed me breakfast in bed, took Jordie out for the morning so I could sleep in, and then we had a lovely day walking the beach down in Wexford. It was glorious. We went in and out all of the little shops, Jordie not making a peep the whole time. Ah, I was in heaven!"
Stephen curled up on his side, listening to her chatter away about what was going on with the rest of the family. She went on to say what was going on back at home, telling about the neighbors and what they were all up to. It was so easy to close his eyes and listen to her. It made him feel closer to home. And while he didn't get half as homesick as he used to, he dearly missed all the family gatherings where everyone crowded around the table at home. It was boisterous, but there was so much love that went around that he felt warm and safe.
"Enough about me! How's things been with you, honey?" She asked after a while. He told her about some of the things that had been happening on tour, and the week they had had.
"Are you going to get a break anytime soon? I'd love it if you could sneak back for a day or so and I could make you some home cooked meals. I know you don't eat right when you're on the road. And the way they're wearing you so, you must be a bag o' bones!" She declared.
He started laughing. "Hardly, Shel! We eat like pigs, we spend most of our nights winding down in the pub in the hotel, and while driving around, most times we end up eating McDonald's. Hardly what I call low calorie food." He traced his hand over his stomach. To him, he felt like he was heavy. He always gained weight easily, and this kind of running around made for haphazard food choices.
"Ah right. And what did you have today?" She asked accusingly.
"Well, lots of stuff." He said vaguely. To be truthful, he hadn't a clue. He had dim remembrances of something snatched on the way after the show while they got on the bus, some snacks before bunking down for the night. A run through a service station where they picked up some prepackaged donuts and coffee, but it had been so tasteless that he hadn't had any after a couple of bites.
"Stephen Patrick David, don't you fib to me. I know you better than that." He could almost see her shaking her finger at him and he laughed.
"Honestly, Shel, I don't remember. One day just kind of drifts into the next. I'm lucky I remember my name sometimes," he said ruefully. "Well, we're almost done here. Got about 4 days off before we go into the studio. Lord, but will I be glad to not move for a day or two!"
"Well, no gallivanting off with your friends this time, young man. You come right home and get some much needed rest!" Michelle declared sternly. He smiled affectionately, listening to her berate him.
"No, no plans, and definitely no gallivanting!" He said.
"Did you have yourself a nice time, though? We've hardly time to talk, and I know you got to Disney because of the notes you sent with the presents for the boys, but you haven't told me anything. I'm pining away with curiosity, lad!"
He lay on the bed with a big grin on his face. He was not about to talk about what happened in France. Especially not with his big sister. He told her a lot of things, but some things he just had to hold close. "Ah, when we get together, I'll tell you all about it."
"You better! I feel like I'm missing all the fun!" They laughed together. "Honey, I better let you go. As grand as it has been, I know you're tired. You tuck yourself in and get some sleep. And thanks so much for calling. It really has been lovely."
"Well, I don't do it often enough, Shel. And Lord, but I wish I were there with you to share your day today. I'll make up for it when I come home, all right?" Stephen was wistful. Sometimes he felt like he missed so much when he was on the road. If he had any regrets, it was being separated from his family so much.
"Steve, you don't have to make up anything. Really. Now get yourself tucked in and off to sleep!" She said.
"Thanks, I will. And Shel? I love you," he said softly into the phone.
"I love you too, sweetie. You take care of yourself, and don't forget to take those vitamins! Can't have you getting sick with all this going on, right?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said solemnly. "I do, every morning. I'd best ring off, I think I'm going to nod off here. Give my love to Alan and Jordan. And everyone else when you see them!"
"I will. Sleep tight, and don't forget we all miss you and love you, hon." She said. "Goodnight."
He hung up the phone and rested his cheek against the receiver. Suddenly the room seemed really empty. Closing his eyes, he sighed and rolled onto his back. He then picked up the phone and gently put it back on the desk. His hand hovered over it for a minute while he thought about picking up the phone and calling Eloy. Pulling back with a sigh, he decided against it. As much as he would like to hear his voice, he knew that emotionally, he was a bit raw tonight. It was occasionally like that when he talked to his sister. Being so far away, he felt like he was missing so much. And having grown up in such a large family, he felt like so much was going on when he was away. Not that he could do much about that. It was either that, or not be in the band. And the drive to be a performer was stronger than his regrets at what he was missing. But Lord if he didn't wish he could get back home more!
He pulled himself off the bed and went to wash up. After taking a shower, he pulled Minnie out of his suitcase and tucked them both into bed. Hugging her tight, he closed his eyes and thought back to his last break. God, but it seemed like a lifetime ago! With a soul weary sigh, he shut off the light and drifted off to sleep.
On the average of once a week Eloy would receive little notes from Stephen. He found himself looking forward to them, rushing home from the studio to check the mail each day. It wasn't anything in particular, but he felt like he had a connection with what was going on in his friend's life. Often he'd be out with friends and something would make him think of Stephen, and he'd pause, wondering where he was at that moment and what he was doing. His friends noticed his preoccupation, and tried to draw him out of whatever it was that was distracting him. Sometimes it worked, but more and more, he found that going out dancing with his friends just didn't have the lure it used to. Maybe he was just getting older, and not into that kind of scene anymore, he mused.....
The boyz survived the grueling pace through to the much needed break. It was with great relief that they all boarded the plane for home. Nothing could break their boisterous good humour as they got on the plane in Madrid. Luckily, the other passengers were rather tolerant of their high jinks as they sang their way through the flight back to Dublin. If anything, they had more energy when they got off than when they had gotten on the plane.
Stephen eagerly searched the crowd as he got out of customs, and saw his sister standing off to one side, Alan at her side. Grinning broadly, he waved to the other lads and made his way over to where they were standing. Dropping his bag, he wrapped his arms around his sister and hugged her tight.
"Oh what a sight for sore eyes!" He exclaimed, showering her with kisses. She laughed and pulled back to look at him intently. His face was drawn, and he was clearly showing signs of exhaustion. "Sorry the flight was delayed. But it wasn't my fault, honest!"
"Ah, Stephen," she said softly. He looked a wreck. But he was so happy to be home that she held back from saying anything about how he looked. He gave her a wink before pulling back so he could hug his brother in law.
"Alan, great to see you. You're looking fine," he said. Alan reached down and picked up his suitcase before he could get a hold of it.
"You look like Hell, Steve. But welcome home. Let's get out of here while the going is good. Your mam has been waiting all evening for you, so we'd best be on our way," he said gruffly. He didn't really understand his brother-in-law's life at all, but he knew his wife doted on him something fierce. And since he could never deny Michelle anything, he always went along with what she wanted to do where Stephen was concerned.
Michelle linked her arm with Stephen's and she led them out of the airport to the parking garage. Their car wasn't too far off and she opened the boot so that Alan could put the suitcase in the back. Then he opened the doors. Stephen got in the back seat with a sigh, letting Michelle and Alan take the front.
"How was the flight?" She asked, twisting around in the bucket seat so she could face him. Alan protested mildly as her knee brushed the center console and she slid closer to the door to give him more room to shift. "Other than long?"
"Not bad," Stephen said with a yawn. He saw Alan's hand rested lightly on his sister's knee and smiled. It was good to be home. He looked idly out the window as they left the airport and headed into town. Dublin always seemed so small to him when he came home, the narrow streets winding willy-nilly as they made their way through the North side. Soon they were at the top of O'Connell Street and veering off to Seville. In the distance, he could see that a lot of construction had been going on since he was last home, though it seemed like the old neighborhood hadn't changed much at all. He could see couples out in the early evening, strolling the sidewalk, small children moving out of the narrow street and then back onto it after they had passed. He smiled. Some things never changed.
Soon they were turning the corner and in next to no time were home. Alan went to the end of the circle and made a u-turn so he could park on the other side of the street. As he pulled up and shut off the engine, a dog barked nearby. Most of the neighbors were out enjoying the warm evening air, sitting on the stoops and chatting with each other. A couple of young girls skipped rope in front of one house, staring at their car. Michelle got out and pushed the bucket seat forward so he could get out of the car. He stretched as he got out.
"As I live and breathe, if that's not young Stephen, I don't know who it is!" a voice declared from across the street. With a tired smile, Stephen made his way to go hug his neighbor Mrs. Halloran. He grew up with her son, who was a year or two older than he, and spent as much time in her house as he had in his own, growing up.
"Yeah, I'm home. Almost don't recognize home, it's been so long." He said with a smile. Mrs. Halloran's little dog came out and barked imperiously at this intruder on his property. With a laugh Stephen dropped down to his knees to let the little mutt sniff him and remember who he was. After a couple of scritches, the dog went back to his place on the step and lay back down.
"Don't let me keep you, darling. Your mam wouldn't forgive me! In fact, I'm surprised she hasn't marched out here already!" Mrs. Halloran said.
"I'm sure!" Stephen said with a laugh. "I'd best be getting in then, haven't I?" He gave her another hug and went back to where Michelle and Alan were waiting. Michelle waved and led the way up the walk. The door opened before they reached it, their mother standing silhouetted by the hall light behind her.
"Stephen?" She asked, peering out into the dark.
"Hi, Mam," he said, walking forward and hugging her fiercely. She just clutched him tight around the waist.
"C'mon in now, no keeping you out on the stoop." She said, pulling him into the hall. He could hear music upstairs. Tony, most likely. His father sat in the parlor, feet up on an ottoman, watching the local news. He looked up as Stephen came in the room and stood up to give his son a hug.
"Lord, Stephen, you look like Hell!" He said, taking in Stephen's face with his eyes.
"That seems to be what everyone says," he said wryly with a glance at Alan. Alan laughed and made his way up the stairs with Stephen's suitcase, trying not to bang it along the wall as he went. With a sigh, Stephen sat down on the sofa next to his father, his mother hovering a bit as she offered him a glass of something to drink. "I'm fine, Mam. Just sit down and don't bother yourself."
He looked around the room. Faded blue flowered wallpaper lined the walls, hidden for the most part behind the pictures of all the Gatelys that filled the room. Every nook and cranny where there was room had a picture stand on it, and where there weren't pictures, there were some of the gold records of Stephen's and awards that the boyz had won tucked in amongst them. It was so completely different from the places where Stephen had been for the last 6 months, and so completely familiar. Because it was home. Nothing fancy, no one catering to him, and thankfully, no one demanding that he be on. It was the one place he could just be himself. He leaned back against the sofa with a sigh and closed his eyes. His mother chatted about what was going on with the neighbors, his father throwing in a sardonic commentary here or there. Michelle sat on a chair next to the television, Alan perched on the arm besides her. Alan's mom had Jordan for the evening. And while Stephen was a bit disappointed not to see his nephew right away, he knew he couldn't really deal with a boisterous 3 year old feeling the way he did, either.
"Stephen," his mother said. With a start, he opened his eyes. He had a feeling she had called his name a few times before he responded. His head rested on his father's shoulder. Blinking, he looked up at his father's smiling face and murmured an apology for falling asleep on him.
"Sweetheart, you should just go to bed. We can talk in the morning. Had I known you were so tired, I would have sent you off right away." She looked guilty at having gone on long enough for him to nod off.
"I'm sorry, Mam. But I'm so tired," Stephen said with a sigh. He hadn't really been focusing on anything his mother had been saying, just letting his mind go still now that he was safely at home.
"And we'd best be going," Alan said, standing and offering his hand to help Michelle up. She squeezed his hand and went over to give Stephen a hug.
"Off with you now. I'll come by in the morning when you've had some rest and you and Jordan can have a visit together," she promised. He gave her a kiss and another hug as he nodded. Kissing his father and mother goodnight, he waved his sister and brother in law out the door and climbed the stairs.
He was so tired. As he reached the top of the stairs, he walked towards the sound of the music, crossing the narrow hall to Tony's room. Knocking once, he walked in and waved to his younger brother, who was lying on his bed reading a magazine.
"Welcome home," Tony said with a wave. "I cleaned your side so you don't have to knock anything off." He said helpfully.
Stephen chuckled, appreciative of the effort Tony had made. He shoved the suitcase off to one side. He'd unpack that tomorrow, and get the gifts he had purchased for the trip home sorted then. He pulled down the covers off the bed and sat down, taking his shoes off. He could hear his mother calling to him up the stairs. "Don't be so tired you forget to wash up before heading to bed, Stephen!"
"Yes, Mam," he called. It was one of the reasons why he kept his bathroom kit on the outside pocket of his suitcase so he could get to it when he didn't feel like unpacking. Which was more often than not, it seemed.
Pulling his shirt off, but leaving his undershirt on, he pulled the kit out and walked out of the bedroom next door to the bathroom. Stepping inside, he closed the door over and started the water running. Looking in the mirror, he made a face. Ugh! Better not look, he thought, bending over to wash up. Getting his toothbrush out, he brushed his teeth, scrubbing to get the fuzzy feeling off of his teeth. After peeing, he washed his hands, leaving the toothbrush balanced on the glass that Gran always used to soak her dentures when she was here for a visit. Shutting off the light as he left, he trudged back to the bedroom, pulling off his belt as he went. Jeans followed soon after and he draped them over the suitcase along with his shirt. Left in his undershirt and briefs, he climbed into the twin bed, pulling the covers up around him.
"G'night," he said softly to Tony. "See you in the morning."
"Night," Tony said. "This music won't bother you, will it?" He didn't look up from the comic book he was reading.
"Nope, don't think so." Stephen rolled over so his back was to the light and closed his eyes. Within moments he was fast asleep.