Epilogue

 

Nine years later

 

 

Over the ensuing years, Scotty received his doctorate in music: for him it really wasn’t a daunting task. Other than learning more about composers and playing other instruments, he could challenge most of the curricula. Truth be known, I think some of his professors were intimidated by having Scotty in their classes. For his doctorate, he finished his concerto of Amorè della mia Vite—as his final project in lieu of a dissertation. Two major orchestras have played it since the published version. That is quite an accomplishment since most new works are ignored. There are reasons for this: Lack of drawing power of newer works to support most struggling orchestras; newer pieces tend to take several times to be heard before they ‘catch on’. And I’m bragging.

 

I received my masters in education after a stint as a professional baseball player—a career that was short lived. My only claim to fame after being called up from the minor leagues for one game, was relief pitching and not allowing any hits for the last two innings. And I hit a two-run homer that won us the game. In our small community of Cleona, that was enough for the citizens to have bragging rites, so to them I am a hero. To the average baseball fan, it is probably, ‘Who’s Sebastian Cocchetti?’ I quit baseball not because I didn’t like the game, but because I didn’t like being away from Scotty for such prolonged periods. I also didn’t like the homophobia that existed. I felt comfortable traveling around in Scotty’s professional circle, hobnobbing with orchestral performers and the patrons of the arts. Conversely, Scotty didn’t fit well into the sports environment. Though he was a world-renowned classical musician, the sporting arena wasn’t known for broad-minded acceptance of people different from themselves. In order to stay for the long haul, I would have had to lie or hide in the closet. I couldn’t or wouldn’t do that. My love for and my relationship with Scotty were more important and it superseded their bigotry and prejudice.

 

Scotty still travels the world performing, and with his stature, when his schedule permits, he teaches at Curtis Institute and is in demand for master classes. Two of his recordings have also garnered him Grammys.

 

I teach English at our old high school and help the coach with the wrestling team. I’ve also found time to author a few children’s books that have gained some popularity. I manage to volunteer some of my time at the local children’s shelter, mostly doing odd jobs: painting or fixing a broken door hinge. Scotty also volunteers his time doing fundraisers, and occasionally accompanies me, to play piano for the kids. It is at the shelter we met our daughter, Amy.

 

Amy was about a year old when she was found in a dumpster, suffering from malnutrition, dehydration and a gangrenous infection on her left foot. Her immune system was not strong enough to fight off the infection so, in order to save her leg and life; it required that her foot to be amputated above the ankle. Amy had been at the shelter for three years and though a very beautiful little girl, no one took an interest in adopting her. Most people seem to want babies and if not, at least ‘perfect’ children.

 

Scotty and I, over the years, had fostered a few kids for brief periods until permanent homes could be found for them. We really wanted to adopt but being gay presented quite the challenge.

 

Whenever Scotty and I went to the shelter, at some point he would sit at the piano and play children’s songs. The kids loved it and him. Little Amy, with her tattered blue blanket and clutching her little Teddy bear, shyly sat in the corner and listened. Over time, fascinated, she started to creep closer to the piano and just watch Scotty intently. One day Scotty decided to tune the piano. Amy upon hearing the piano crawled into the room and almost to the piano bench: sat and waited for Scotty to begin playing. When Scotty saw Amy, he smiled and said hi, she cupped her hands shyly over her dark brown eyes and peeked between her fingers. Scotty slowly approached her and asked if she wanted to sit with him at the piano while extending out his hands to pick her up. She offered no resistance nor tried to get away, so Scotty reached down, and picked her up and held her in his lap while he played I’m a Little Tea Pot. When Scotty was through, he looked down at the smiling Amy and for the first time she spoke. “Again, pway again, pwease.”

 

I came in shortly after, and Scotty was taking Amy’s little hand and helping her pick out notes. She marveled at the results, that every time she hit a key she made a sound. I sat down beside Scotty and said hi to Amy; she smiled. That was the beginning of our love affair with the curly and dark-haired Amy.

 

It took a lot of doing, but with the legal representation of Junior and Shelby, and after one year of fostering her and two years of court battles, we were allowed to legally adopt Amy.

 

She has lost much of the shyness she once had. It’s difficult to be shy when much of the time she is surrounded by her cousins. Junior and Shelby have a sweet little girl, Lizzie. She and Amy are the best of friends. Beth and Jim have twin boys, James and Phillip, who have become much attached to and protective of her, after all, they are two years older. Billy Farmer, uh, William Farmer, DVM that is, and Michelle have two boys, William and Michael, and one little girl on the way. Amy loves her Uncle Billy, especially since he brought her a cute little Golden Retriever puppy. It was love at first sight. She loves her Buddy as they have something in common; Buddy has a rear paw missing. You can bet, wherever Amy is, so is Buddy.

 

Amy is a delightful child. She loves to help her daddies around the house and though sometimes she makes more work than help, we don’t discourage her. In order to alleviate confusion, she calls me Daddy and Scotty Poppa. She is learning to play the piano. Scotty, of course the ever-proud Poppa, swears it is his musical genes she has inherited. It’s useless to argue that there is absolutely no basis for his illogical conclusion to that regard. He’ll just harrumph and stare at the would-be doubter.

 

We have had Amy fitted with a prosthesis. She’s not too fond of it, and she sheds it as soon as she walks through the door. On one occasion, James, one of the twins, remarked at her not having two feet and found it more confusing, I think, than strange. Amy, not missing a beat, replied, “Yep, but I have two Daddies, you don’t, so you are missing one.” I guess you have to be of that age for it to have an impact, but I’m sure it created some lively discussions for Beth and Jim. Try explaining two Daddies to two curious eight-year-olds.

 

Well, I could go on and on about our sweet Amy, but I need to tell you about the rest of those who are involved in our world.

 

My mom married a doctor, Tim Benson, she met and worked with at Hershey Medical Center. I am so happy for her as I had fears she would live out her life without a companion. I wanted her to have someone special, as I do with my Scotty. Scotty and I now live in the house that I grew up in and my mom and Tim live in his home in Lebanon, which is just up the road. Mom and Amy are very close and she dotes on her worse than Scotty, if that’s possible. Tim’s a super guy and accepts Scotty’s and my relationship without reservation. Since he’s a pediatrician, he is also Amy’s doctor as well as a loving Grandpa.

 

Uncle Phil and Aunt Liz continue to be a huge part of our lives and so Amy gets spoiled on all sides. Uncle Phil is getting ready to retire and I think Aunt Liz is ready for him to also. A few years ago, while chasing a robber, he was shot and wounded in the leg. It was a shocker for all of us, but Aunt Liz has never quite gotten over it.

 

Bobby Arnold, after a few relationships went sour, is now with a really nice guy named Dane. They’ve been together for over three years now and it looks as if this is the one. Bobby is a CPA and has his own little business in Anneville, another little community next door to Cleona. He still plays in the Kool Kreatures band, which still maintains a modicum of popularity in the area. He too, is considered an uncle and he and Amy get along famously.

 

Stan Polanski and Jennifer married, and will be celebrating their eighth anniversary this year. Stan is now the assistant director for the county health and human services department. Stan worked his way through college to get his master’s degree in counseling. He has never lost his love for the homeless shelter and is still an active volunteer there. He and Jennifer have a little girl, Stephanie who is also a friend and playmate of Amy’s.

 

Our old coach, Mr. Hastinger, is retired and a widower. We see him from time to time, but he spends most of his retirement gallivanting around the country in his spiffy RV. Jim, his gay son, has become a good friend along with his partner, also named Jim.

 

Gordon Starky moved to California and works as a computer programmer in the Silicon Valley area. We stay in periodic contact and have visited him a few times. He recently met a girl and is thinking of popping the question.

 

Nanna is still as lively as ever, and still bustling about the kitchen cooking her heart out. Amy loves her Nanna. Nanna is teaching Amy to make pasta, which means our kitchen on more than one occasion has looked as though a major snowstorm hit it when she tries to make homemade ‘buhskettie’ noodles.

 

Uncle Dom and Aunt Mary are doing well and their kids are now grown and in college. He’s come a long way with his acceptance of Uncle Vince and Chris and Scotty and me. He really is a loving guy; it’s just taken him time. We, for a while, thought Dom, Jr. might be gay, but it turned out he was just a late bloomer and now has a steady girlfriend.

 

Sad to say that Aunt Connie and Uncle Peter are divorced. They remain on friendly terms; I’m sure more for the kids than anything. Their kids are also grown and in college. Uncle Peter has remarried, but Aunt Connie is adamant she will never marry again. Time will tell.

 

Uncle Vincent and Uncle Chris are still madly in love and trading barbs with one another. They remain, for Scotty and me, a continual inspiration. They are so happy for us that we successfully adopted Amy. It, for them, is encouragement that perhaps the times, they are a changin’.

 

Scotty—well Scotty remains the sweetest, kindest, and most loving man I have ever known. Other than our careers causing some challenges, our lives together have been all that we ever wanted. He is still the greatest lover, companion and friend. And now, a super Poppa to our daughter Amy. As the years have gone by, our love is still as strong as it was in the beginning. I cannot imagine life without him. He remains the Amorè della mia vite.

 

We did it Sharon and I can’t thank you enough—Steven Keiths