I had never been on a plane before. Raphael had flown from Mexico to Boston and passed through customs, so he was an experienced traveler. He had told me once that back then he was very confused and sad when he flew. It took him quite a bit of time to adjust once he met Tia and Tio.
When we entered the airport terminal, I was bewildered. Where did we go? What should we do? People who seemed to know where they were going were hurrying everywhere.
Raphael led me to a check-in kiosk, where we displayed our ticket codes to the reader and checked our baggage. From there he led me to security, where we waited in line and, when it was our turn to go through, had to surrender our carry-on bags, our belts, even our shoes.
We passed through the security machine, but I set it off, so a man had to pass a wand all over my body. He found the necklace I was wearing. I had to take it off and get scanned again.
From there we went to the Delta gate for our plane. There were food and snack places around, and we both bought snacks and drinks for the flight. The trip was about three-and-a-half hours, and no teenager could go that long without food.
When the flight was announced, we got in line with everyone else. I felt as though I was in a herd of cattle. At last we boarded the plane, found our seats, and sat down. Because he had flown before, Raphael told me to sit next to the window so I could get the view from above.
Maybe everyone is a bit nervous the first time they fly, but I was more than a bit, and I held his hand. I knew that flying was safe, but I also knew that if something broke on the plane it would be a long way down.
The plane backed away from the gate and taxied out to the runway, where we sat. When it was our turn the plane turned onto the runway, revved its engines, and began to move forward, gaining speed as it went. I wondered if a plane ever ran out of runway before it got off the ground. Ours took off and climbed steeply for a bit, and then leveled off some. I heard a clunk, which Raphael told me was the wheels being retracted into the plane.
Once we were up and heading south, my nervousness evaporated, but I still held his hand. I enjoyed looking out the window for a while. Eventually I pulled a book out of my carry-on bag and began to read.
As we neared Fort Lauderdale, the plane began to descend, and the figures on the ground grew larger. I braced myself for the landing, squeezing Raphael’s hand tighter. However, the landing was very smooth.
“Congratulations,” said Raphael. “Now you’re an experienced flier.” I grinned and prepared to leave the plane, but it wasn’t as simple as that. First the plane had to taxi to a gate and power down. Then it seemed as though everyone on the plane was standing to get luggage out of the overhead bins. Once they got their bags, they stood in the aisle, waiting for the door to open.
Raphael and I simply sat because we had no luggage in the overhead bins. Finally, people began to move off the plane, and Raphael and I joined the herd.
I had no idea what my father looked like and was a little overwhelmed by all the people who seemed to be waiting for exiting passengers. Raphael, who was a good six inches taller than I was, looked over the heads of people, took my arm, and said, “Over here.”
He led me to a man who was holding a sign with our names on it. “Dad?” I asked.
“Parker,” he responded, then held his hands on both my shoulders for a moment, just looking at me, before pulling me into a big hug.
“And this must be Raphael,” he said, shaking my partner’s hand. “Welcome to Fort Lauderdale.”
Then, as he turned back to me, I took a good look at this man whom I didn’t know but who was my father. I supposed he was somewhere in his forties. Like me, he was a little on the short side. He was balding some, which surprised me, and he had a bit of a paunch.
I was aware that he was also studying me, and I wondered if he was feeling as awkward as I was.
We went to the baggage carousel, where we waited for our suitcases. When they arrived, Dad led us out to a parking lot and a Kia Soul. “I don’t do a lot of driving,” he explained,” and this little guy is good on gas and doesn’t take up a lot of space. If Paul and I want to go anywhere out of the city, we usually take his car.”
“Is Paul your partner?” I asked.
“Yes, didn’t I tell you that?”
“No, you mentioned your partner but didn’t tell me his name.”
“I suppose, in a way, Paul was responsible for my marriage with your mother breaking up,” he said, “but don’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault that I fell in love with him.”
We drove out of the lot and away from the airport, heading into the downtown area. Raphael, who was taller, sat in the front while I scrunched up in the back, where there wasn’t much leg room. After several turns, Dad turned onto a quiet street and pulled into a parking place beside a condo building.
Inside the building, an elevator took us to the top floor. Dad took out his key, unlocked the door, and motioned us in. He showed us around the condo, which had a nicely equipped kitchen, a large living room, a study, and two bedrooms. Motioning towards one of the bedrooms, he said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. We don’t get a lot of guests.”
He left us there while Raphael and I went in and immediately turned to each other and kissed, long and hard. We finally pulled apart, bounced on the queen-sized bed, and then unpacked our clothes, putting them in the dresser and the closet. We were happy to find that the room had its own bathroom, which we used to relieve ourselves. Again we kissed, and Raphael moved his hand down to my package.
“Later,” I grinned before we returned to Dad.
Back in the living room, Dad said, “Paul will be home about 5. I’m usually at work at this hour, but I took the day off, so I won’t have to go to work until Monday.”
“What do you do?” Raphael asked, saving me the necessity of asking.
“I’m a corporation lawyer. Most of my clients are banks, for whom I write loan and mortgage agreements. It’s not exciting, but it keeps me in scotch.” Gesturing for us to sit, he said, “So, tell me about yourselves.”
For the next half hour, Raphael and I took turns talking about our lives, our school, and what we did for fun, omitting the sex stuff. I wondered if Dad guessed and decided he probably did.
From the living room windows we could look out over much of the city. We were facing the ocean, and the beaches looked beautiful—clean, bright sand and blue-green water, with waves lapping at the shore.
I commented on how nice the beach looked, and Dad asked if we’d like to go to one. We simultaneously said, “Yes,” so he told us to get our bathing suits on while he made some sandwiches to take with us.
When we emerged into the living room, Dad took a look at our bathing suits, grinned, and said, “Well, they’ll do for today, but we’ll certainly need to do something about those.”
I didn’t know what he meant until we walked to the beach and realized that nearly every man and boy there were wearing Speedos.
“This is the Sebastian Street Beach, and very few straight people use it,” Dad said. Raphael and I gazed at the men and boys, some of them handsome or beautiful, and immediately went hard. Dad laughed and said, “Yes, that’s often the first reaction when visitors come to the beach.”
While a lot of people were there, the beach didn’t feel crowded. Dad led us to an open space, laid out some blankets, and suggested we take a swim before lunch.
The water was amazing. It was warm and relaxing and so different from beaches in New England. Raphael and I immediately immersed ourselves and swam out a ways.
“This is more like the beaches in Mexico,” Raphael said, holding me close as we tread water.
“I love it!” I said. “I could get very used to coming here.”
We swam about with leisurely strokes for a while and then headed back to the beach. Flopping on a towel, I let the sun dry me off.
“Did you bring any sunscreen?” Dad asked.
“Oh, shoot, I left it in the room,” I said.
Dad pulled a tube out of his bag and tossed it to me. I slathered my face, my chest, and my legs and then Raphael applied it to my back. He probably put more back there than was needed, but I certainly enjoyed his hands rubbing gently. Raphael was darker, so he didn’t need it as much, but he did do his face and asked me to put some on his shoulders, which I was more than willing to do.
We sat on the towels and devoured Dad’s sandwiches and bottled water, chatting about nothing important.
At one point, I said, “I can see right now that I’ll be spending a lot of time on the beach, but what else is there to do here?”
Dad talked about various stores and mentioned a museum of gay art. At first, he said perhaps we were a little young for it, but then he said we could make up our own minds about that. We looked at each other and nodded. If there was a gay museum we certainly intended to see it.
We spent most of the afternoon on the beach and in the water. Dad swam with us some, but for him this was old hat. Raphael and I, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of the sand, the water, and the male scenery nearby. We frequently stopped swimming to touch each other. Looking back at the beach and seeing that Dad wasn’t watching, I kissed Raphael hard on the lips. He immediately reciprocated.
We walked back to the apartment in the late afternoon. Paul was there when we arrived. He and Dad greeted each other with a hug and a kiss before Dad took care of the introductions, calling him Paul Weston, and then suggested Raphael and I might like to shower and get dressed before dinner.
In our bedroom, we quickly stripped and were immediately erect. We went into the bathroom, where we shared the shower, giving special attention to soaping each other’s backs, butts, and privates. It wasn’t long before we were again in each other’s arms. Raphael wanted to return to the bedroom and enjoy our erections, but I said we should save that until we weren’t in a hurry. Instead, we used the soap to jerk each other off.
Clean and dressed, we returned to the living room. Paul was preparing dinner—Mexican food, which he said was a test of his cooking and Raphael had to tell him if it passed.
I thought the food was excellent, and Raphael complimented Paul. After supper I was quite full and suggested to Raphael that we take a little walk. Dad told us about some of the roads near us, including Sebastian Street, which he said was very walkable and had some nice shops.
We walked for a couple of hours, hand in hand the whole time as we looked at various store window displays,. I asked Raphael how the Mexican food was. He said it was quite good, but it could have been spicier. I told him if it had been, I’d have needed a fire extinguisher. As we walked, we observed that most of the same-sex couples we passed were also holding hands, and sometimes kissing. So, we stopped several times to kiss as well. There were also younger boys and girls around, and we wondered where they fitted into a gay community.
Back at the apartment, we asked Dad and Paul about that. Paul said that a lot of them were adopted, but some were the natural children of gay men, “Kind of like you are, Parker,” he said, smiling.
“I didn’t know that gays could adopt. Is that common in this country?”
“Some states ban it, but it is common now in a lot of states.”
“I noticed,” put in Dad, “that you called me and Paul ‘partners’ and I remember that I used that word in my mail to you. Actually, we’re married. Paul is my husband.”
I had heard about gay marriage, but, until they explained it, I didn’t realize that the Supreme Court had made it the law of the land.
“So, Raphael and I could get married,” I observed.
“Yes, when you’re old enough,” said Dad. “How do you think your families would react to that?”
We didn’t really know. I did say that my grandparents might oppose it. Dad asked how they were, and I said they were fine, but I didn’t think they were really comfortable with my being gay, let alone having a boyfriend.
“I know that they were pretty angry with me when your mother and I divorced. I don’t suppose they’ve ever forgiven me.”
“Have you ever thought of adopting?” asked Raphael.
“We thought about it, but we’re both at work most weekdays and we didn’t think it would really be fair to the child,” Paul told us.
By that time, I was pretty tired. I’d been keyed up for the trip, I’d spent a lot of time in the sun and water, and my legs had nearly given out during our walk. I announced that I was heading to bed, and the others agreed it was time.
Raphael and I used our bathroom, stripped, and climbed into bed. In a few minutes we could hear muted sounds coming from the other bedroom. We smiled at each other and passionately hugged. Raphael turned so that we could sixty-nine. We brought each other very slowly to a satisfying climax before we lay back and I spooned him. I thought it was wonderful that we were in a place where we didn’t have to hide our love. We were both tired, and we quickly fell asleep.
* * * * * * * *
In the morning, Raphael and I lay in bed, simply touching each other. We had discovered that we didn’t always need to have sex to express our love.
At breakfast, Dad suggested that we take a ride to the Sawgrass Recreation Center in the Everglades. “Certainly,” he said, “any visit to Florida should include the Everglades.”
The ride was surprisingly short. When we arrived, Dad and Paul bought four tickets for an airboat ride, saying it was the only way to see the park.
What a great experience it was. We saw all sorts of wildlife, including alligators, which were huge. I was glad I wasn’t in the water with them. The guide said there were over 200,000 of them in the park. There were all sorts of birds. We even saw a peacock. When we were told that a group of peahens was called a ‘harem’ we laughed.
We had lunch on the way back to the condo and in the afternoon went again to the beach. It being the weekend, the sand was more crowded, but it still didn’t feel like we were hemmed in. We had quickly realized that showing affection on the beach was totally acceptable, so we kissed before we swam. Again, Raphael and I enjoyed the water, as well as all the touching which was required to put on the sunscreen. When we came out of the water, we lay face down in the sun with our arms across each other’s backs.
For dinner, the men took us to the Burlock Coast, a restaurant in the Ritz Carlton Hotel. Despite its location, it was informal, and the food was delicious.
On Sunday, Dad took us to a couple of clothing stores, where we bought Speedos and gaudy shirts.
By Monday, when Dad and Paul had to go to work, Raphael and I felt comfortable walking around in the city. Of course, we spent quite a bit of time on the beach, wearing our Speedos and new shirts for the first time. We felt perfectly safe kissing and hugging each other in public. We also checked out some of the shops we hadn’t visited with Dad.
Tuesday morning was a little cloudy, so in lieu of the beach we decided to venture to the Stonewall National Museum, which is dedicated to LGBT art, history, and education. The art exhibits were amazing—full of art works which I didn’t even know existed. Many of them were erotic, but they were also beautiful. We walked from one to another, sometimes holding hands and sometimes with our arms around each other’s waists. We ate lunch there and then returned to the condo to change for the beach as the clouds had vanished.
There was a beach volleyball game going on, and team members seemed to drop in and out. After slathering ourselves with sunblock, we asked if we could play and were welcomed. Raphael was tall enough that he could spike the ball. I, on the other hand, was not only shorter but also more of a klutz. Nobody seemed to mind my mistakes, and in fact, nobody was keeping score.
When we were hot and sweaty, the two of us decided it was time for a swim. We raced into the water, splashing and dunking each other. ‘This is paradise,’ I thought. ‘Why would anyone want to live anywhere else?’ I did know about hurricanes, but I supposed people just dealt with those and then got on with their lives.
We returned to our towels and stretched out on our stomachs in the sun. A little later, I became aware of a shadow across my back. Looking up, I saw one of the volleyball players, who had said his name was Alejandro. He was with another young man whose name I didn’t know. I judged them to be in their early twenties.
They sat beside us and began asking questions, like where we were from, what we had done so far, and where we were staying.
After talking for a while, Alejandro suggested that we go with them to their apartment, where we could get some cold drinks.
I looked at Raphael and he looked at me. Almost imperceptibly he shook his head. I told them that we were fine and didn’t need to go anywhere.
The two of them kept urging us and we kept refusing. Finally, Alejandro said, “Well, maybe another day,” and they walked off.
Raphael looked at me and said, “Well, that was a little creepy.”
I agreed, and we decided to tell Dad and Paul about it.
Over dinner that night, we talked about Alejandro and his friend. Dad said we did just the right thing by not going with them.
“They probably thought they could hit on a couple of inexperienced kids,” said Paul.
“Unfortunately,” continued Dad, “there are always people out looking for sex—gay people and straight people. The only difference is who they want to have sex with. I’m glad that you two are together. Stay that way while you’re here.”
“Oh, we will,” I said.