“Father, I think we have to figure some things out. Things are going to be different now, between us.” Todd’s nervousness was making his voice rise, and he fought to keep it under control. “I want us to get along. I want us both to be happy. I’m going to do what I can so we are able to live together, but how that’ll work depends more on you than on me.”
He stopped. Every emotion he had told him to run, to get away from this man before his anger and spite took hold of him. It was only Todd’s own determination to see this through that held him fast where he was.
His father, to both his surprise and relief, showed no signs of speaking, and rather than anger, he evinced no emotion at all to show how he felt about what Todd was saying. Todd started to wonder if this approach was coming too soon. His father may not have had time to adjust to his new circumstances.
Glad that at the very least he wasn’t being confronted with anger, Todd pushed on. “I don’t have any idea how you feel. About how things have changed. About what Mr. McCluskey said. And, mostly, about me.”
Todd started to drop his eyes, but stopped himself. He knew, instinctively, that maintaining eye contact as he was doing, along with speaking to his father when they were alone last night, were two of the most important things he’d ever done. He’d looked into his father’s eyes then and was doing so again now. His father didn’t respect weakness. He took advantage of it. It went against Todd’s nature to keep his gaze steady but, with a great deal of will power, he held his father’s eyes with his. When he did, he could read surprise, along with other mixed emotions he couldn’t interpret.
His father was the first to look away. Todd wanted to say something else, but realized if he wanted to know what his father felt, he had to let him talk. So, even though it was hard, he waited.
Mr. Mortensen eventually spoke. The hard, dictatorial, often sarcastic edge to his voice, the edge that Todd found so intimidating, was missing. “This is difficult. For both of us, I presume. But I’m not accustomed to thinking of anyone else’s feelings. It’s in my nature to be in charge. I think I need to be, to be comfortable. I feel… well, I’m just uncomfortable any other way. I think some of that, the need for control, is so I can hide things I’ve always felt I had to hide. I wouldn’t be saying this except for the fact you know some of them now, maybe the biggest thing. You saw what you saw, the other night.” He stopped then, and Todd saw him clasp his hands, then rub his palms together. It was a nervous gesture, something Todd had never seen from his highly controlled father in the past.
No longer meeting Todd’s eyes, his father continued, saying “I get excited, stimulated, looking at that, and now I know you know. I’m not sure how to deal with you knowing. That’s unusual for me. And I don’t like it. I don’t like not knowing how to deal with something. Anything.” There was a longer pause, and then he said softly, “You’re right. Things are different now.”
He stopped, started to get up, then sank back into his chair. Todd watched him for a moment, and made a decision. “Father, I’m gay,” he said. “So I understand some of the feelings you have, the sexual ones, I suppose. I’ve had to hide them, too. So maybe we’re the same in some ways, with respect to that. The thing you don’t have to worry about is that I’d tell anyone else, or that I think badly of you because of that. I guess you’re gay, too. You are, aren’t you?”
Mr. Mortensen glanced up, then looked away again. “I’ve never acknowledged that,” he said, his voice brittle, “even to myself. I grew up in a different era than you did, an unforgiving one, and I was ambitious. You couldn’t get to the top in the business world if you were openly gay. And getting to the top was the most important thing in my life, much bigger than a social life, family, anything. So any sexual feelings I had, I just suppressed. If they couldn’t help me get ahead at my job, they had to be ignored.”
“So are you saying you’re not gay?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not appropriate to talk about that with my son!”
Todd was adamant. “We have to talk, father! You know I’m gay. I’ve read it’s hereditary. I saw you looking at gay pornography, and you’ve admitted you get aroused by it. How hard is it to go from there to admitting you’re gay? I think if you say it, it could be a starting point for us. Can’t you do that?”
Mr. Mortensen got up and turned away from Todd. He paced for a moment, then said, with his back still turned, “What does it matter? Sex isn’t a very big part of my life.”
“It matters because we need to be honest with each other. Tell me, do you want me to be part of your life? That’s the most important question I need answered, and much more important than whether you’re gay. Do you want us to live in the same house and interact with each other, talk to each other?”
Todd held his breath. When his father didn’t answer, he forced himself to go on. “You were going to send me away. I know why, now. I thought at first it was because you didn’t want me here, you didn’t like me, that I disgusted you, but I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s about all I’ve thought about.”
He stopped then and waited, figuring if he did, his father would have to turn around. He wanted to be able to look at him when he said what he had to say next.
He waited, and when his father finally did turn back to look at him, Todd said, “I thought of a reason you were sending me away that didn’t include you hating me. It was because you thought that was the best way to hide your secret. I knew about it, but I’d be miles away, and I’d be having my own problems, so you’d be safe, and, as you say, your job was more important than anything else.”
He sat up straighter. “But things are different now. We are different. So I’m asking, with your secret not at risk now, do you want to live together, and try to change, to become more like most fathers and sons are together? To be normal? Or do you really dislike me so much that you don’t want me around you?”
Mr. Mortensen still didn’t answer, but Todd waited this time without saying anything else.
Mr. Mortensen paced, not looking at Todd. Finally, he walked back to his chair and sat. He turned to face his son. “You don’t understand. I’ve lived my life thinking about myself, my ambitions, getting to where I am now. You might not like hearing it, although you’ve certainly seen it, but I’ve always been emotionally indifferent to you and everyone else. When I think of other people, I think about what they can do to help me better myself, or at least help me maintain my current status. It isn’t a matter of liking or not liking you. I don’t relate to people that way.”
Todd stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Then he said, “That’s not right. That’s sort of sick, really.” He paused, then asked, “Did you call that psychologist? Because you really do need to do that, and you do need to talk to him. From what you just said, I understand now, better than I did. I thought most of the problems we had together were my fault. I’ve thought for years that there was something wrong with me that caused you not to love me. But it wasn’t me. It really wasn’t. It’s going to take some time for that to really sink in. But hearing you say what you just did, maybe that’ll help. Maybe I can stop wondering what’s wrong with me.”
Todd stopped then. What he’d just learned was startling, and he needed time to digest it. Both were silent a few moments, each in his own world.
When Todd spoke again, his voice was firmer, more matter of fact. “Okay. That’s part of what needed to be said, and I can stop hoping for a closer relationship for now. Until you’ve seen the shrink at least. Did you call him?”
“No.” Mr. Mortensen moved in his chair, showing his nervousness. “I really don’t want to do that. If it ever got out I was seeing a psychologist…”
“They’re entirely confidential. They couldn’t stay in business unless they were. Besides, you have to do it. Mr. McCluskey said he’d check, and when he says something like that, he does it. He’s terribly angry with you, for what you’ve put me through. So you’d better, or he’ll follow through with what he said he’d do.”
He watched his father, who just looked at him and didn’t say anything. Todd could see growing hostility in his eyes.
Todd sighed. “Okay. It is up to you, but you know the consequences. Think about it. Then, please, do it. You have to. Anyway, back to the point. How are we going to get along here? Are we going to communicate? Be civil? I need to know that, and other little things. Things like, are we going to eat together? I didn’t eat tonight, waiting for you, and it’s after ten now and I’m starving. Stuff like that. What are you thinking?”
Mr. Mortensen fidgeted again, then said in a querulous voice, “I don’t like this, any of it. I don’t like you being preemptive with me, taking charge, asking me questions and expecting answers.”
“I’m not comfortable doing it either, but I have to” Todd replied, keeping his voice neutral. “Things are different now, and we both have to get used to it. Soon, I’m going to be interviewing housekeepers, and hopefully hiring one. Things have changed. I want to know what to expect from you. You might want to ask me the same thing. How are we going to behave?”
Mr. Mortensen stood up again. Paced again. Then he sat and ran his fingers through his hair. When he spoke, it was in a softer, less whiney voice. “I know I have to change. It’s what I’ve been thinking about since your Mr. McCluskey showed up last night. And it’ll be easier for both of us if I simply accept that. So, I’m going to try. I’ll speak to you pleasantly. I’ll try to tell you what my schedule is going to be, and leave a note about my plans for the day if I won’t be home for dinner. How’s that?”
“That’s a great start, and thanks.” Todd smiled, pleased with this response. “That’s going to help. I’ll do the same, tell you what’s going on with me.” He paused, then opened himself up to his father to a greater degree than he had. “I’m going to say this, right now. I haven’t given up on you. I want us to be more than two people living in the same house. I want a father. I always have. Maybe it’s just a dream that won’t come true, but that’s what I want. Being friendly, spending at least a little time together, eating dinner together occasionally, that can be a start for us.”
Todd smiled. He felt he was accomplishing something, and was heartened by it. When he resumed, his voice was light, younger, even though was he said was serious. “Now, I’m going to tell you something you might not like, but it’s part of the bargain you agreed to, and I’m telling you this partly to show you I’m going to keep talking to you about what I’m doing rather than just doing it. If you don’t like something I tell you, I want you to tell me that. I want your opinion. I’ll make the final decision, but you’ll be involved.”
Todd paused before continuing. He was amazed to find himself talking like this, sounding so much more self–assured than he felt. He had a brief moment of wondering if everyone was like this, sounding so sure of themselves but feeling so tentative inside. The moment passed, and he said what he had planned.
“A boy is going to come and stay here for a while. I’m not sure for how long, but hopefully not too long. I don’t like him much. He’s the one I’ve been helping at school, the one I got the computer cam for. He has a problem at home, and he’ll be here while that gets resolved.”
Mr. Mortensen’s looked confused. “If you don’t like him, why’s he coming?”
With a wry smile, Todd answered. “This might sound pretentious, but it’s the truth: I’ve agreed he can stay here because it’s the right thing to do.
“When I spoke with Mr. McCluskey today, he asked me if I thought I was a good person. I think I am. Doing this is what a good person would do. That’s part of it. There’s more, and it’s complicated, but that’s a big part of why.”
Todd stopped, and then stood up, stretching to relieve some of the tension he’d been feeling. “I’m starved, and it’s getting late. Places are going to be closing. Are you hungry?”
Mr. Mortensen looked at him, and then, surprising himself, grinned. “Actually, yes. I had a meeting that lasted forever, and I came straight home from there. I was in the kitchen, feeling hungry and wondering what to fix, when you came in.”
“Well, what I was going to do was call out for a pizza to be delivered. You want to share?”
Mr. Mortensen almost grinned again, and then, against all his instincts, found himself doing so. “Pepperoni?”
Todd had no problem grinning back. “That’s the only way to go. I’ll make the call.” He started off to use the phone in the kitchen, all the time thinking this had gone better than he’d hoped. His father was still cold, still lacked any feeling for him, but it appeared they wouldn't be outwardly hostile to each other, and his father was resigned to not bossing him around or intimidating him. It could have been much worse. He’d sort of expected it would be.
Before he could reach the doorway of the den, Mr. Mortensen spoke to him, saying, “Look, Todd, I need to say this. I don’t dislike you, and I’m fine with you staying here, with us being here together. You’re right, I was sending you away just to protect myself, not because I don’t like you here. It’s just very hard for me, all these changes, and knowing that if this doesn’t work Mr. McCluskey will ruin me. But you can’t expect any great changes in who I am. I haven’t been close to anyone for years, maybe ever.
“But I’m going to try to make this work. I have to, because, otherwise, there’s Mr. McCluskey. So I’ll try to make the best of it, and I’ll try to do what you want, talk with you and be civil. Just know, there will be times when it’s going to be a struggle for me.”
Todd gave him a measured look. “I guess I really couldn’t expect anything more than that,” he said. “Being pleasant to each other is certainly a first step. If we do that and talk as openly as we can, this might even work.”
»»»» 0 ««««
Todd was to meet three women the next day. Driving to the employment agency after school with Mr. McCluskey, try as he might, he couldn’t hide his nervousness.
“But I’ve never interviewed anyone before! I don’t know what questions to ask! What if I screw up?!”
Mr. McCluskey chuckled. “Todd, we’ve already gone over this. Ask what you think you need to know. Answers to your questions are only part of what you’re doing. You’re getting a feel for the person, how she acts, how she speaks, whether she seems cold and aloof or motherly or something else entirely, whether she’s organized or flighty, whether she’s friendly and open or seems to be reluctant to say much and doesn’t volunteer anything. None of that would disqualify her. But it gives you an idea of what each one is like. You have to decide if the chemistry is right between you because as well as doing her job, she’ll be living in your home with you.”
“But I don’t know what to ask?!”
”OK, then, think of it this way. By the time you’re interviewing the third one, you’ll have thought of things you’d have liked to have asked the first one, and you can ask those questions to this one. Make notes when you’re talking to all of them, and as you think of questions to ask, write them down, too, so you remember to ask the next one the same things. By the time you’ve gone through all of them, you’ll be an expert interviewer. Employers all over the state will be hiring you to interview prospective employees for them. Your name will be famous, right up there with Greg Hanover, Philly Barnes and Thomas Perzonski.”
“Who?”
“What?! Mr. McCluskey looked shocked. “You’ve never heard of them? Why, they’re the most famous interviewers in the world! People come from miles around to hear them ask, ‘And why did you leave your last job?’”
Todd looked over at him and finally grinned. “You’re awful! You’re making it all up. I think you’re trying to tell me anyone can do this, that it’s no big deal, and not to be so uptight about it.”
“You catch on quick, kid,” Mr. McCluskey laughed.
They were shown into a small office at the employment agency. There were several chairs, a couch, and a desk. Mr. McCluskey motioned to Todd to sit behind the desk, as he was the one in charge.
Todd sat down, and Mr. McCluskey took a chair beside the desk. When the first woman came in, Todd nervously looked at Mr. McCluskey, but he just looked back at Todd, not saying a word. So, reluctantly and nervously, Todd explained to the woman what the job would entail, and asked her for her history.
When the second and third women came in, in both cases, Todd moved to a chair that wasn’t behind the desk such that all three people were sitting together.
He asked more questions of the second woman, and still more of the third. When each interview was finished, he told each one what he’d been instructed to say, that the interviews had just begun, and they could call the agency and find out when a decision would be made.
When the last lady walked out, Todd looked at Mr. McCluskey and let out a big sigh. “Whew! That was tough. I’m glad I don’t do that every day.”
“You did great. I was impressed. You got better as you went along, too. You’re a quick learner. And somewhere along the line you stopped being so nervous.”
“Well, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have to sell myself to them. It didn’t make much difference if they liked me. I had to like them. That made me feel a lot more comfortable.”
“I liked it when you got out from behind the desk, too. I wasn’t sure you would. You keep telling me you’re shy. But someone who really was shy would have stayed back there, protected by that desk.”
Todd squirmed a little in his chair, then. “I am still shy. But I’m working real hard to overcome it. I thought I might be able to feel that chemistry you spoke about a little better if I wasn’t behind the desk, that’s all.”
Mr. McCluskey nodded. He stood up and stretched, then asked, “Did you like any of them enough to hire one? Did any of them stand out?”
Todd started to answer, then stood up as well. “I’m hungry. We’ve been doing this for two hours, and it’s time for dinner. My father’s eating with a supplier tonight, so I’m on my own. Could we, well, can we have dinner together? I’ll buy. I have a hundred dollar allowance now!” He grinned.
Mr. McCluskey looked at him for a moment before saying anything, and Todd could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he said, “Hey, I’ll tell you what. Instead of that, why don’t you come over to my house, meet my family, and we’ll eat there? That’ll save you money, and I’d like to do that. OK?”
Todd looked down. “I’ve been taking up a lot of your time, haven’t I? I’m sorry. You’ve been so nice to me, and I’ve started taking advantage of it. You’ve got your own life. I’ll just go home and have something delivered. I’m sorry I’ve imposed on you.”
Mr. McCluskey didn’t reply, and instead walked over to Todd, took him by his shoulder, and gently pushed him down into his chair. Then he pulled his chair over and sat down, too. Then he waited until Todd looked up at him, which took awhile. But finally Todd did look up, and Mr. McCluskey said in a somewhat softer tone of voice than he had been using, “That’s the old shyness coming back, isn’t it? And right along with it is that defeated feeling that says you’re not worth much, that you’re wasting my time, that you should just go jump in a hole somewhere where you won’t be bothering anyone and pull the dirt in around you: that that’s where Todd Mortensen belongs. Isn’t that right?”
Todd didn’t answer. He didn’t trust his voice. He just nodded.
“Well, forget that stuff, kid! If I didn’t want you to come home with me, I’d have told you I was sorry but I was tied up this evening, but we’d do that soon. I’d have found a perfectly plausible excuse. But I didn’t. I told you the truth. I’d like you to meet my family, I’d like you to eat with us. I’d like them to meet this really exceptional kid I’ve been spending time with. A kid I’ve taken a great liking to and feel proud to know. I’ll take you there, we’ll have dinner, get acquainted, and then I’ll drive you home.”
He paused. “Todd, you’re a super kid. Smart as hell, good looking, lots of character, great personality, and someone I get to know just as the best part of his life is beginning. You have to start believing in yourself.”
Todd squirmed in his seat, as always uncomfortable with any sort of compliment, and aware of how hard it was to feel good about himself. Mr. McCluskey chuckled. “I know, I know, it’s easier said than done. But when you feel this shyness coming on, when you think you’re being rejected, stand up taller. For goodness sakes, don’t let those feelings overwhelm you! Now, can I call and make sure we have enough for another body at the table, or are you going to sulk? Because, I have to tell you, I like the Todd who stands up for himself and fights, more than the Todd who gives up, hangs his head, and feels sorry for himself. I like that first Todd very much.”
»»»» 0 ««««
Mr. McCluskey’s house was about half the size of Todd’s. It was on a street of similar–sized houses. The properties were well–kept, but the affluence of Todd’s neighborhood was not in evidence. There were kids outside playing, and Todd saw some kids about his age shooting baskets on one of the driveways.
Mr. McCluskey pulled the car into his driveway, turned off the ignition, then turned to look at Todd rather than getting out. He said, “You know, this is kind of special. I’ve never had any student over to my house before. It just isn’t really part of my job, and I do have my image to uphold. I’m having you here because I think you’re kind of special, too. I’m happy to have you, and hope you come again. Now, let’s go meet my family.”
They got up and went up onto the porch, and Mr. McCluskey opened the door. Todd could immediately hear a rattling on the hardwood floor, and then he could see a dog tearing up the hallway, having trouble getting traction on the smooth wood. His feet were going faster than they could get a grip on the floor.
The dog raced up to Mr. McCluskey, tried to stop and slid into him. Then he sat, his eyes bright, and he gave out a single, “Woof!” Mr. McCluskey laughed and reached down and rubbed his head, his ears, and then behind them. “This is Guenther,” he said to Todd.
Todd was looking a bit stunned. He’d also moved so he was standing behind Mr. McCluskey as much as possible.
“What is he?” he managed to squeak.
“He’s a dog! But don’t tell him that. He wouldn’t believe you anyway.”
“You sure he isn’t a small horse?”
“Nope. A dog. He’s a Bouvier des Flandres. They’re used on farms, and because of their size, sometimes as guard dogs too.”
“I can see why. He’s huge. Does he bite?”
“Nope. He’s very friendly. But because he’s so large, and some people are intimidated by large dogs, he’s been taught when meeting someone new to do just what you see. He runs up to his master, woofs just once and sits, then waits to be introduced. He’s waiting for you to pet him. He really likes that, and wants to meet you. You’re not afraid of dogs, are you?”
“Well, I’ve never really been around any, so I don’t know.”
“Well, here’s your chance. Step up next to him, then put your hand down so he can smell the back of it. He won’t bite it off. Trust me.”
Todd looked at Mr. McCluskey, then at the dark gray colored, long–haired beast with his eyes almost covered in fur who was watching him intently, sort of wiggling in place, his tail trying to wag while he sat. Waiting, rather impatiently waiting. Todd uneasily moved out from behind Mr. McCluskey, and stuck out his hand, very ready to yank it back if he needed to.
Guenther sniffed, then took a cautious lick, watching Todd as he did so. Todd felt the large, wet tongue on his hand, and grinned.
So did Mr. McCluskey. “OK!” he said, and Guenther stood up. His head, when he was standing, came up above Todd’s waist. He moved over next to the boy and looked up at him. Todd was surprised at the intelligence he could see in his eyes.
“He looks awfully strong,” Todd told Mr. McCluskey.
“He is. He’s also very gentle with his friends. You’re one of those now. Come on, let’s meet the others.”
“Other dogs?”
Mr. McCluskey laughed. “No, just two more, and they’re both humans.”
Just then, a door farther back in the house could be heard opening, and then the scampering of feet. While Todd was slowly rubbing Guenther’s head, he looked down the hall and saw a small head looking around a corner. The head had a cute face on it, and the face was looking first at Mr. McCluskey, then at Todd, then back and forth between the two.
Mr. McCluskey smiled, and called out, “Daniel, you can come here. It’s okay.”
The small head emerged and gained a body. The boy stayed close to where he’d been, though, looking more at Todd now than Mr. McCluskey. He started to take a step forward, then stopped. He was thinking hard; it was apparent in his expression. Finally, it appeared he’d made a decision. He opened his mouth and said, “Gunny.”
Guenther immediately looked up, then left Todd and ran to the boy. He stopped in front of him and licked his face. The boy’s face was just below Guenther’s head level. He laughed and pushed against Guenther. Then he reached up, put his arm around his neck, and said, “Come on, Gunny,” and started slowly walking toward the front door, Guenther walking slowly by his side.
When he reached Mr. McCluskey, he stopped and raised his arms. Mr. McCluskey laughed and reached down for him. He picked him up, turned to Todd, and said, “Todd, this is my son Daniel. Daniel, this is my friend Todd.”
Daniel turned and put his face against his father’s chest. “Daniel is a little shy, Todd. Maybe you know what he’s feeling.”
Todd looked at the back of the boy, then smiled at Mr. McCluskey. “I don’t remember that far back. How old is he?”
“He’s almost five. He’ll warm up after a while. He’s shy with strangers at first, but he’s also got more confidence than most four–year–olds. Let’s go on back. Smells like dinner’s almost ready.”
They all walked down the hall, and when they stepped into the kitchen, Todd saw a table set with four places. He saw a tall man standing at the stove, tasting something with a wooden spoon. The man turned, then, and smiled. “Hi there. I’m Gordon Hibble. You must be Todd. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He stepped forward and stuck out his hand. Todd took it, shook, and said, “Yes, I’m Todd Mortensen. Uh…” And he stopped, unsure what to say.
“Gordon is my partner, Todd. One reason I’ve never had a student here before is I’m gay, and I don’t want that known at school. The principal knows, and that’s it. I’m trusting you with this. I’m sure that trust won’t be misplaced.”
“You’re gay!?”
Gordon chuckled. “He sure is. We’ve been together for 10 years. Met at college.”
Todd looked from one to the other, then glanced at Daniel. Mr. McCluskey smiled again. “We adopted him. We both wanted to see if we could raise a child and not screw him up the way so many of the kids we see in our professional lives are.”
Todd looked again at Daniel. He realized the kid was about as cute as a little kid could be. He was dressed in his jammies, the type that had feet as part of the overall outfit. They were light blue and had Sesame Street characters printed on them. His hair was cut very short, his eyes were dark brown and wide open. He stood looking back at Todd, his face serious. One arm was still draped around Guenther, who was sitting and watching everyone.
Gordon jumped in, then. “You’re probably too polite to say anything, but you’ll be wondering, probably are already, so let’s just talk about it. You’ve noticed Daniel is black, and are wondering why a black child.”
“Uh…”
“That’s all right, Todd,” Gordon laughed. “Nothing wrong with being curious, and I’d rather start the conversation than have awkward questions asked later, or not at all.
“There is a strong sentiment in some quarters that says kids need to be raised by people of their own ethnic background. The problem with that is, there are more black kids needing families than there are qualified black adults wanting to adopt them. When we started looking for a child, we found a whole lot more black kids needing homes than white kids. And we also found that black kids that were older than three almost always were overlooked in favor of younger kids. We met Daniel, and he was just as shy then as now, maybe more, but he charmed us. And as much as we took to him, he took to us, too. We were able to adopt him. He’s been with us over a year now.”
No one said anything for a moment, and then Mr. McCluskey asked, “Dinner about ready?”
Gordon turned back to the stove, saying, “I can take everything up right now. Todd, if you want to wash up, there’s a bathroom down the hall you saw Daniel come out of. First door on the left.”
When Todd returned, the table was full of food, and the others were seated. He took his place, looking for Guenther as he did so. He found where he was when one of his feet bumped into him.
“Does he always get under the table when you eat? I’d think he’d like to be standing at your elbow. Or more likely, Daniel’s elbow.”
Both men laughed at that, and Mr. McCluskey answered. “That’s why we trained him to get under the table at meals. No begging that way. And none of the whining we get if we put him out back.”
Gordon started serving the food. It was a pot roast with cut up new potatoes cooked with the roast, along with gravy, carrots, onions, broccoli and corn. Todd looked at it, then at Gordon, then back at his plate. “Did you cook all this?”
Gordon laughed, a deep, resonant laugh. He was a tall man and when he’d been working in the kitchen, Todd had seen that he moved with a certain style. Not effeminate, but with a flair, looking almost graceful. He seemed to Todd to be about the same age as Mr. McCluskey, but where Mr. McCluskey looked very solid and muscular and was under six feet tall, Gordon was slim and willowy and maybe two or three inches above six feet. His voice was deeper than Mr. McCluskey’s too.
“I like to cook, and I’m usually home before Ian. So I do most of the cooking. Do you cook?”
“No. I don’t cook at all.”
“You ought to learn. You’ll be eating all your life. Good to know how to make stuff.” He grinned at Todd.
Todd cut into his beef and took a bite. He chewed, then looked up at Gordon again. “This is wonderful!” he exclaimed. “It’s so tender I can cut it with my fork, and it tastes, so, so rich!”
Gordon smiled, a huge smile. Mr. McCluskey said, “You just made a friend for life, Todd. Gordon loves compliments about his cooking.”
Todd began eating in earnest then and found everything to be delicious. Dinner had been a nervous, unpleasant occasion at home. This was much different. There was no icy feeling in the room, he wasn’t waiting to be criticized for something, it was just good food, friendly people, and a warm, comfortable, homey feeling.
When the two men saw he was entranced by his food, they began making conversation between themselves. Todd ate, then surreptitiously watched the men for a moment or two, and then happened to glance at Daniel. The boy was staring at him, apparently fascinated. Todd grinned at him, and the boy giggled back. Todd picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of meat, then pretended to put it in his mouth, hovering with it just outside his open mouth, staring at Daniel as he did so. Daniel watched, then picked up his fork and did the same. When Todd put the meat in his mouth and began chewing, Daniel copied him. Then, after swallowing, Todd rubbed his stomach with a circular movement, and said, “Ahhhh.”
Daniel watched that, his brow wrinkled, and then he copied the gesture. When he did it, he forgot the, ‘ahhh’. Todd supplied it. Then Daniel did, too. They both looked at each other, and laughed.
When dinner was over, Mr. McCluskey said he’d do the dishes, and told Todd he could help put Daniel to bed. Gordon picked the boy up and took him to the bathroom to wash his face. He told Todd to go into the boy’s bedroom and pick out a book. Todd was still looking at all the books on the shelves there when Daniel ran in and cried, “This one. This is the best!” He grabbed a well–worn copy of The Little Engine that Could.
He handed the book to Todd, then leaped onto the bed. Gordon pulled back the covers, then draped them over the boy. “Read me, read me,” Daniel said to Todd.
So Todd sat on the side of the bed and read Daniel the story. When they were done, Daniel sat up and kissed Todd on the cheek. “Night night,” he said.
“Night night,” Todd repeated, and when the boy turned his face to the side, Todd sheepishly kissed him. Daniel giggled and lay back down. Gordon had been watching from the doorway. He walked over and kissed Daniel on the cheek, then turned on the boy’s nightlight and turned off the room lights. He and Todd walked out to the living room. As they did, Guenther passed them, walked into Daniel’s room, hopped up on the bed, turned around three times, and collapsed.
“You’re very good with him,” Gordon said, his voice both soft and gentle.
“He’s wonderful. I never had a younger brother. I’m missing one now, and I never had one.”
“Maybe you’re missing the love you just saw, you just shared.”
Todd looked up at him. “You’ve been talking to Mr. McCluskey, huh?”
“We talk about everything.”
In the living room, Todd sat on the couch with Mr. McCluskey. Gordon took an armchair.
Before Todd could say anything, Mr. McCluskey asked him, “OK, let’s talk about the interviews. What did you think? Did you like any of them?”
“Yeah. The third one. I liked her a lot.”
Mr. McCluskey stared at him for a moment. “You know, you really do surprise me, all the time. Most people, when they’re interviewing a group of people, usually get attached to the first one. And, if not that one, they choose the most friendly of the bunch, the most personable, regardless of qualifications. You didn’t pick either of those. Pretty amazing, for a first time. What was it about the others that made you like number three more?”
Todd thought of a moment, thought how to put what he wanted to say. “The other two, they seemed to be trying to make me like them. They were more concerned about that, about maybe building a good relationship with me, than they were about the job. Sure, I want someone who’ll be friendly, but not someone who’s going to be my friend. She’s an adult. I don’t need her to be my friend.”
He looked into Mr. McCluskey’s face, trying to read if he was saying the right things. He couldn’t tell what the man was thinking, just as he usually couldn’t. So he continued. “I liked number three’s style, best of all of them, I guess. She had a no–nonsense sort of way about her. The way she spoke, there was an air of confidence, of being capable of doing the job, that was much more pronounced than the others had. I liked the experience she had in her resume, too. And I think she could stand up better to my father, better than either of the others. I think she’d do a good job. The others might too; I don’t know. But since I can only chose one, I thought number three was it.”
Mr. McCluskey smiled at him. “Me too, Todd. I was most impressed by her too. So, if we make her an offer and she says no, do you want one of the others, or to do more interviewing?”
Todd didn’t need much thought about that at all. “I thought she was better than the others, which means they weren’t as good. If we can’t get her, then let’s try to find someone just as impressive. Let’s keep interviewing.”
Mr. McCluskey laughed. “You sure you’re 14? And shy? And naïve? I hope you aren’t looking forward to being a vice–principal some day. I’ll have to look for another job.”
Todd gave him a funny look, and then said, “Are you going to make her an offer, then?”
“No, when you come to my office tomorrow, I’ll have it set up so you can call her and make the offer yourself.”
Todd frowned, and Mr. McCluskey grinned at him. “I know, I know, I keep forcing you out of your comfort zone. But it’s good for you, and you probably realize it, even if you don’t like it.”
Mr. McCluskey drove Todd home shortly after that. Todd had been effusive in his thanks to Gordon, and Gordon had given him a hug. When Mr. McCluskey stopped the car in Todd’s driveway, the boy didn’t get out right away. He sat thinking first, and Mr. McCluskey let him, not speaking. Eventually, Todd reached for the door handle, then turned to Mr. McCluskey.
“You know, I want what you’ve got. When I’m grown up, I want a partner that I love, just like you have. I want to have a child, or children. Not right away. But seeing what I saw tonight, I know what I’ve missed, and what I want to have someday.”
Mr. McCluskey reached out and put his hand gently on Todd’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s not too late to have some of what you’ve missed. Some of what Daniel has right now. You’re still young, and maybe your father will come around.”
Todd thought about that for a moment. Mr. McCluskey could sense his mood, and didn’t rush him. When Todd spoke again it was almost like he was talking to himself.
“I’m not sure I want to think about that. It hurts if I do. It makes me feel hollow inside. Yeah, I want that, but I don’t think it can happen, so it’s better if I don’t think about it. Otherwise, I’ll miss it too much.”
He stopped then, and Mr. McCluskey could hear the sorrow in his voice. When Todd continued, it was as though his thoughts were focused ahead of him, not at the past.
“My father changing? I don’t know. I hope he does, but I’m not counting on it. I’d rather think about what I saw tonight, at your house. I had no idea. I didn’t know gay men could have a life like you do. I just didn’t know. Now I do. I know what I want now, and I have something real to look forward to.”
Todd opened the door, but then, instead of getting out, leaned across and hugged Mr. McCluskey, really tightly for a moment. “Thanks for tonight, and for all your help. I couldn’t be doing this on my own.”
Mr. McCluskey hugged him back, and while still holding him, said, “You’re a wonderful kid, Todd. You’ll be amazed at what you can do if you just believe in yourself.”