Uni

An 'Organic' Story

by

James Merkin
Trab
Bruin Fisher
Cole Parker
Colin Kelly
Grant Bentley
DesDownUnder

#

Introduction

Bruin Fisher

Collaboration is difficult to get right, and 'designed by committee' is usually an indicator of failure. Sometimes, however, it just works—and the collaborative story Uni is a prime example.

It began on January 1st 2010, an auspicious date if ever there was one. James Merkin posted a flash story about a boy returning to university after a break at home, and an awkward coming out to his father on departure—which gave the story its title: Departure.

It is a beautiful, evocative, little piece and was much appreciated, prompting Trab to write a second piece telling the same event from the boy's point of view. His piece was titled Uni which eventually gave the whole series its title.

AwesomeDude is a community of readers, many of whom are also writers, so it was perhaps not surprising that these first two chapters were quickly followed by further developments of the story. What was surprising, at least to me at the time, was the remarkable sympathy between the writers. Each part developed the story without wrenching the theme or style from its beginning, so that it could be read as a whole, without necessarily being aware of the multiple authorship. In my experience that's rare, and it's evidence of the close community spirit that exists here.

There was no plan, no predefined story arc, no coordinator; it just grew, organically. I loved taking part in it and even now all these years later it is precious to me. I hope you enjoy it too.

Departure

James Merkin

A holiday homecoming can be over much too soon.

My son returned to his university early this morning. Awake most of the night, I had no problem getting up. I wanted to make him a good breakfast, something to hold him, but he said cereal was all he wanted, maybe some juice. He was planning to eat later, on the road with Curt; he'd be picking Curt up on the way.

"Curt?" I asked.

"We're in a lot of the same classes," he said.

So I offered to help pack his car and got up from the table; stacks of pancakes still steaming, ham and eggs sitting there.

But he said, "Never mind, it's all done; I'm not taking much. Curt's already got all the stuff we need in the apartment."

"I thought you were living in the dorm?" I said, puzzled, wondering when I'd missed hearing about that change in plans.

"Oh no," he said, "it's all arranged. I moved my things before Christmas."

"So Curt isn't just riding back with you; you're good friends?"

"Not just friends, Dad," he said. "We're together now. He's my boyfriend."

"Oh," I said.

By then he had his parka on, knitted cap, gloves; I could barely see his face as he walked away. He was halfway to the car before I could speak:

"Goodbye, son," I said, and he turned. "I love you, boy."

Thank God he heard me.

When he ran back into my arms I could see his eyes were just as wet as mine.

Uni

Trab

No matter how many times I'd rehearsed, I had been unable to tell my dad. It had been wonderful to be home, but now, at the point of my return to uni, I was worried to death. Sleepless all night, I had packed my things. Dad had made breakfast, but I couldn't eat a thing. If I didn't say something now, I was damned sure I never would, and I'd be leaving home forever. In desperation, hoping to be forced to break through my own fears, I dropped a hint. Then another. And then?

I blurted out that Curt is my boyfriend, but, in terror, I couldn't look at Dad. I had on the rest of my winter garb, and as I heard his, 'Oh,' I walked away, legs trembling, at the point of collapse.

I barely heard him when he said, 'Goodbye, son. I love you, boy.'

Thank God I heard him. I raced back into his arms, my eyes just as wet as his, knowing I was only going to uni after all.

Journey

James Merkin

Curt paced nervously along the curbing in front of the coffee shop. David was late and he was getting worried. When David had called earlier it was to say that he intended to tell his dad about them before leaving home, and now it was way past the time for David to pick him up. What had gone wrong?

Just as Curt was about to flip open his phone to try to call, he saw the familiar car pull up. Quickly he yanked the door open, tossed his bag into the back, and slid into the passenger seat. "Trouble? I was really getting worried."

David leaned over and they kissed intensely, each communicating both relief and hunger at seeing the other.

"No. It's all good, believe me. Here." David handed Curt a large paper bag.

"What's this? It smells delicious."

"Muffins."

"Muffins? I thought we were going to have breakfast in the coffee shop."

"My dad and I made them while we talked. I told him all about you." David started the car, made a U-turn, and headed back the way he had come.

"Where are we going? You're going the wrong way."

"Relax," said David, "we don't have to register until late tomorrow. I'm taking you back home to stay the night."

"Wha—"

"Dad wants to meet you. He says if you're important enough that I can't eat breakfast with him, then he wants to cook dinner for both of us and find out for himself."

Mary's Viewpoint

Bruin Fisher

I sometimes wish we'd had a daughter. It's not that I don't love David, I love him more than life itself, but as he's grown up he's developed a special and very wonderful bond with Jonathan that leaves me feeling left out sometimes. I'm not jealous, well, perhaps I am, just a little, but those two have something so precious together, something just for the two of them, and I would give anything to share it with them. Perhaps if we had a daughter it would be me she'd be that close to.

There's a lot I can't do since my MS got bad, but I still have eyes in my head. I see my boys, father and son, and I know when something's wrong. For months now there's been a barrier between them. It's hurting both of them and I can't see any way I can help because neither of them is talking about it.

Our David's been home from university for the holiday and it's been wonderful to see him, but it hasn't been like old times. It was bound to happen that he'd grow away from us a little; it's the first time he's lived away from home and I suppose it's good that he's developing his own life, new friends and all that, but I think it's more than that. Something's changed. He's been tense all holiday, and Jonathan can see it as well as I can, and it's upsetting him. He doesn't often lose his cool but he was quite short with me yesterday for no good reason that I could think of. This thing with David is breaking his heart like it's breaking mine.

* * *

This morning David left early. He popped into my room to say goodbye and then went down to breakfast. The smell of cooking was wafting upstairs and I imagined the two of them across the kitchen table talking while they ate. But it wasn't long before Jonathan came up with a tray for me and it turns out David didn't stop to eat the meal he'd cooked for him. Jon was looking shaken and after he'd sorted my pillows so I could sit up in bed to eat, he stayed and sat in the armchair that faces the bed. And for a while he just watched me eat. I could be patient; I knew he'd talk eventually, but I certainly wasn't prepared for what he said.

He said it like it was nothing, like it didn't matter, but he just sat there and told me that my son, my David, is homosexual. Well, I yelled at him, and threw the tray at him. Made an awful mess, but I don't care. How can he say that? My David's not queer. He can't be? That's not how we brought him up. I don't know what's got into Jonathan, he's been behaving odd for ages. He's not the man I married and I'm thinking perhaps he's having an affair. I wish I was dead.

* * *

Okay, I've calmed down a bit, now. Jon cleared up the mess and I cried a lot and he hugged me and cried with me and I wailed at him about how I'd always wanted a happy life for David, and pictured him with his own home and his own family around him, and it's true I've always wanted grandchildren, and that set me off worse than ever and he just held me for ages until I was all cried out. But I know I'm being irrational about it. If he's queer he can't help it, and he's still the same David, and I still want the best for him, still want him to be happy. But it's so hard to think of him being gay. I've heard what people say about queers and I want to protect him from that. Why couldn't he have been normal? What did we do wrong?

Jonathan says I need to pull myself together and that we didn't do anything wrong. David's the way he is and we need to accept him and it mustn't change how we love him. I can do it, I know I can, but it's a shock and it's taking time.

* * *

He's just come back up with a new tray of breakfast for me, and he's told me David is bringing his boyfriend back here and they'll be arriving soon. They're going to stay till tomorrow. I don't know how I should feel about it, I'm going to have to lean on Jon for this. He'll know how to deal with it. He and David are so close, it must have been an awful shock for him, and yet he seems to be taking it so well. Did he already know, I wonder? Or guess?

* * *

My David, my darling boy, has just brought Curt up to introduce him. I'm so glad he did. He loves Curt and Curt loves him. You can see it in their faces, clear as day. That's all that matters, really, isn't it? They love each other. If either of them is to be happy they need to be together. I can deal with that. He's such a nice boy, Curt. I'm pleased for David. It doesn't matter that he's gay, it matters that he's found someone who loves him.

Jonathan's going to carry me downstairs so I can share the evening with them in front of the fire. I want to get to know Curt, find out where he's from, and about his family, and what he wants for the future. It's going to be okay. I think so.

* * *

We've had a lovely evening. Jonathan cooked a roast. David carried me back up here when I got tired. When he laid me back on the bed I told him I'm glad for him and Curt, and I told him we'll always love him and support him, and I said I'm thinking of Curt as a son now. I got all that out without crying but he didn't do so well so then I hugged him and cried with him.

The best thing about the evening was watching Jon and David together. They're back to their old relationship. And I'm back to being jealous of it. I'm so proud of both of them.

Curt

Cole Parker

"This feels weird."

David snuggled tighter against Curt. "What does?" he asked.

"This. Being in bed with you, a real bed. And being in your house. With everyone in the house knowing we're here, together, like this. Really weird."

David laughed. All the tensions he'd been feeling were gone. He could tell that his mother still had some adjusting to do, but things were good. Very, very good.

"David?"

"Hmmm?"

Curt wiggled, and David loosened his grip on him. Curt quickly kissed David's nose, causing the larger boy to grin, and then slid up so he was sitting against the headboard. David looked up at him, then slid up too. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Not wrong. I just have so many feelings and thoughts bouncing around inside me right now, and can't just lie still."

"Lying still wasn't exactly what I was planning."

Curt grinned, and seeing the look on David's face, ended up laughing while he nodded. "Me too," he said. "But can we talk a minute, first?"

David reached over and took his hand. "Go ahead. Uh, just don't take too long." And he laughed. Curt joined him because when David laughed, his whole world got brighter and he couldn't help himself.

He was silent then, and David, being David, simply waited. Finally, when Curt was ready, he spoke.

"I'm really happy. I'm especially happy for you. Your parents now know and have accepted you; me; us. I know what that means to you."

He paused again, and still David waited. Curt was like this. He took his time expressing his thoughts, and it was just another of the many things David found endearing about him.

When the pause lasted longer than he expected it to, David asked, "What is it, Curt?" He asked it softly, and squeezed his hand when he did.

Curt sighed. "Well, I just hope…" He sat up straighter. More forcefully then, he said, "I just hope my family is as understanding."

"What do you mean?" David was confused. "They know about you. You've been out to them for over a year. I don't understand."

Curt looked down. "They know I'm gay. It took them a long time to accept the fact. They do, now, but in an academic sort of way. I've never had a boyfriend before; I've never taken a gay boy home to meet them. My father is, well, you have to meet him to see. He's not an easy man. And my mother can be very sharp, sometimes rude. But as difficult as they are, my older brother is worse. He still makes sarcastic comments to me. He's never really been the same since I came out to them. He acts sort of like he's personally offended that I'm gay."

David was quiet for a moment, then asked, "So you're not sure what they'll say when you tell them that when you're in college, you'll be rooming with your boyfriend?"

Curt shook his head. "Worse. I'm not sure I can tell them. Dad's paying for college. He might tell me he's not going to pay my way if I'm going to be sleeping with another boy for four years; that I have to have a straight roommate. Or, maybe my brother will talk to him and my father'll end up saying he's not going to pay for college at all because I've now made it apparent I'm just going away to school so I can be gay."

"So you're thinking of not telling them? Really?"

"Yes. But it feels wrong, somehow. I should be open and honest with them. I was when I told them about me, and even if they weren't real happy, I was still proud of myself. But now? This? I'm not sure what to do."

David could hear the uncertainty, the pain in Curt's voice. He slid over next to him, put his hands on the sides of his boyfriend's face and slightly turned it toward him. Then he kissed him.

It was a long, slow, deeply moving, very personal kiss, one communicating with Curt, sending a message that couldn't be misinterpreted.

When he was done, David pulled back a little, then slid down in bed and looked up at Curt with open, questioning eyes. Curt smiled, a little tenuously, and slid down next to David.

"Whatever happens, Curt, we'll be figuring it out together. And my family's on our side. It'll work out. We'll make it work out."

"I know. I just worry, is all. But it's just one more thing in front of us to overcome. We'll have a lot of that. But I'm not afraid, just worrying. Talking to you helps."

David smiled. "You do worry. And it makes you cute. You know you're cute, don't you?"

David's smile always improved Curt's mood. Curt tended to go through mood swings, frequently becoming upset and edgy. David had become a stabilizing force in his life, one he'd come to rely on. Now, seeing that smile, feeling the warmth of David's body next to him, he felt himself relaxing. David saw the change.

"It'll be OK. Did you want to just snuggle and go to sleep?"

Curt grinned, and slipped his hands under the covers.

"Uh, not just yet."

Brandon

Colin Kelly

Brandon sat staring at the TV. If someone had asked him what show he'd tuned to, he wouldn't have been able to tell them. All he could think about was Curt. His gay brother Curt.

His faggot brother Curt. That's the part that scared him. Brandon knew that their relatives would never accept Curt the faggot. They'd shun him, and shun their mom and dad as well. For himself Brandon didn't care about that part, about being shunned by them. He had little use for their relatives. They were assholes, narrow-minded, bigoted people. But they were his parents' families, and his mom and dad would be devastated if the relatives found out about Curt and cut them off.

It wasn't that Curt was gay or not. What pissed Brandon off was that he'd decided to come out to their folks first, then afterwards to him. Why couldn't Curt have talked to him first? That was just like Curt, always going off half-cocked, doing what he wanted without ever thinking it through first, and never coming and asking his big brother for advice.

What did their folks really think about Curt's announcement? Brandon didn't have a clue.

Mom was very opinionated; she made up her own mind about everything, and made sure everyone always knew exactly what she was thinking. She told Curt that being gay didn't change how she felt about him, he was still her baby boy. Geez, what did that mean? Curt was 18 years old, and he was still Mom's baby?

Dad was something else. He was always a "man's man" who kept his opinions to himself, but didn't give an inch anytime. He was simple, and straightforward, and no-nonsense. His response to Curt was that it was his life and he could make something positive out of it or not. Did that mean Dad was okay with it or not?

Things would become a lot more of an issue if Curt ever brought home a boyfriend. God, that sounded so wrong, Curt having a boyfriend. Why the hell did he decide to be gay? Did he meet someone who confused him, twisted him, seduced him, turned him gay? No, that wasn't Curt. Like Mom, he was just as opinionated and made up his own mind, and he just couldn't keep things to himself. If he was gay it was something he'd decided—or as Curt had put it, discovered—on his own.

Brandon leaned back and closed his eyes. What did he think about Curt being gay? It was a lot harder for him to define his own opinion than to understand his folks' opinions. Did he approve? That was tough. On one hand, he felt to his core that it was wrong. But this was Curt, his little bro. They'd been best friends while growing up. Curt had attended every one of Brandon's basketball games and been his biggest fan. Brandon had been Curt's protector whenever he got into a scrap. He opened his eyes and shook his head. He just couldn't abandon Curt. He wouldn't abandon him. He was still Curt, he was still his little bro, and he probably needed his big bro to be his protector even more now.

He grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. He'd been acting… what, brusque? …yeah, that was the word, he'd been brusque to Curt ever since he made his announcement. He owed Curt a phone call. He had to tell him that his big bro was still there for him, that he didn't give a damn if he was gay. He grinned. He just knew that Curt was waiting for that phone call. And he realized that he'd been waiting to make that call.

Meeting

Grant Bentley

After nearly half an hour, Curt came back into the kitchen and set the phone down. Tears were streaming down his face and I immediately ran to him and pulled him into a hug.

'What is it? What's wrong?' I asked him.

When he pulled back, he had the biggest grin I think I've ever seen.

'You jerk,' I scolded with a chuckle, 'I thought something was wrong.'

'No way. That was Brandon. He just apologized for being so brusque with me. He actually said brusque. He said he's been thinking about me a lot lately and finally realized that being gay really doesn't change who I am. He said he wants me to know that he'll still always be there for me no matter what. He still loves me and I'm still his little bro,' he blurted out without stopping to take a breath.

'That's wonderful,' I exclaimed as I pulled him close again and gave him a quick kiss, which wasn't easy considering the huge grin he had on his face.

'You can't believe how good I feel right now,' he stated. 'I've been waiting for that call from him for months. I knew it would come. I felt it. I just knew it would come.'

'I can't tell you how thrilled I am for you,' I said as I squeezed him tighter.

'I know you are,' he responded before asking, 'Guess what?'

'What?' I asked as I released my grip on him and stepped back a little.

'I told him about you and he wants to get together for coffee in the SUB cafe tomorrow. He wants to meet you,' he replied.

'Seriously?' I asked.

'Yeah. He said if you are important to me, then you are important to him, so it's only right that he gets to meet you,' he responded, still grinning from ear to ear.

'Oh my God,' I exclaimed laughing, 'What am I going to wear?'

'Oh my God, stop being so gay,' he laughed as he gave me a nasty little flick to the forehead, followed immediately by a kiss to make up for it.

Curt was on cloud nine for the rest of the day and well into the next morning. I don't think I had ever seen him so excited. I, on the other hand, felt more than a little nervous. I was going to meet Brandon, his big bro; a person who had obviously played a very influential and positive role in his life growing up. The person he had spent a lifetime looking up to and depending on. And, the person who had probably caused him the most hurt.

Now, after nearly a year—a year of hurt caused by losing Brandon's love and acceptance and finding them replaced by hurtful comments and brusque behaviour—the 'old' Brandon appeared to be back. He had not only made it clear that he accepted Curt and still loved him, but he had offered to go one giant step further. He had offered a willingness to accept that Curt had a boyfriend. Me!

Knowing our meeting would be a major step for both of them, I desperately wanted to make a positive first impression. Considering that Brandon had struggled with himself for almost a year, the last thing I wanted to do was jeopardize things between them. Way before I felt I was ready to face him, however, we were walking into the cafe and making a beeline for a guy who, if he were a couple of years younger, could have been Curt's twin. He was sitting in a booth by the window and, before we were halfway across the room, saw us, stood up, and was walking towards us. Within seconds, he had pulled Curt into a huge hug.

'I'm so sorry bud,' he whispered into Curt's ear, 'I don't know what I was thinking.'

'I love you too,' Curt responded as he leaned into Brandon's hug and his eyes filled with tears.

It was the better part of two minutes before they finally let go of each other and Brandon's attention focused on me. I suddenly felt totally awkward and momentarily lost the ability to think or communicate, so I just gave him a shy smile, reached out my hand to shake his, and kind of croaked/whispered, 'Hi.'

He grinned, bypassed my outstretched hand, pulled me into a hug and responded with, 'It's good to meet you David. Welcome to the family, little bro.'

Three Little Words

Grant Bentley

Life was good. It had been simple and straightforward from the time I was a child. There was always a way things should be and that was that. Black was black and white was white. Right was right and wrong was wrong. That's how I was brought up and that's how I brought my boys up. They knew what I expected of them and they knew there would be consequences if they didn't measure up. I didn't play mind games with them and they didn't play mind games with me. We had a nice simple no-nonsense relationship.

There were things that fit the scheme of things and things that didn't fit. If they didn't fit, you changed them… simple. However, sometimes in life, a time comes when you can't change them. You may just have to change instead. This was one of those times and I wasn't sure I could.

Considering the thousand and one things I have heard from, or have expected to hear from, the mouths of my boys, "I am gay," was not one of them. Does that make me naive or just foolish? I don't know. I do know one thing. Those three words scared the hell out of me. I knew enough about the trials and threats that gays have to face, often on a daily basis, that I could honestly say those three words were the three words I never wanted to hear from either of my boys.

Unfortunately, I heard them almost a year ago now and they shattered the hell out of my simple no-nonsense view of life. I heard them and I didn't know how to react. My youngest son, Curt, announced to the family that he was gay and all I could think of to say was, "It's your life. You can make something positive out of it or not." I don't think he had a clue what I meant by that. Hell, I didn't have a clue what I meant by that. But I had to say something.

I wanted to say, "No you're not," or "You can't be," but I knew better. Curt is far too much like his mother. When he says something, he means it. So when Curt uttered those three words, I knew he meant them. There was no room for debate. He knew he was gay and he was making a simple statement of fact.

Those three words took over my mind for several days. My little boy was gay. That was a fact and it didn't fit my simple scheme of things, not even close, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

Now I know I carry off the masculine, stubborn, manly image quite well. I've even been called a man's man—whatever the hell that is. Truth is, I'm not much for expressing feelings or opinions, never have been. But, as one of my teachers said when describing me in high school, "Still waters run deep." I guess they do. I may not express myself freely, but that doesn't mean I don't have deeper thoughts and feelings. I'm just good at hiding them. I learned early, wear your heart on your sleeve and you're only going to get hurt, so I made sure I kept those kinds of things inside. Inside, creating a comfort zone, and as long as they stayed there I felt safe.

When Curt came out, as quickly as I could, within days, I had filed those three words in the very back of my comfort zone. I tried to ignore them and avoid the whole issue. I decided, if I don't talk about it, I don't have to think about it, and therefore don't have to deal with it. But they kept gnawing at the edges of my comfort zone and it wasn't comfortable anymore.

I knew my silence was hurting one of the people I loved most in this world… my youngest son. I had forced Curt into a state of limbo. I had left him full of questions I wouldn't answer. Do I still love him? Do I accept him? Do I still see him as my son? And, I began to realize it wasn't fair to him. As long as my comfort zone stayed intact, his was replaced by confusion and fear. I saw the hurt in his eyes every time he looked at me.

He has always made it clear that he is accepting and proud of who he is. It's time I told him that I am too.

Fly on the Wall

James Merkin

"Dad, I wish you could have been there. It was so different from how we have dinner."

I could hear the excitement in David's voice. "Whoa. Slow down, boy. Is having a different dinner from us what's got you so worked up?"

"Oh, no, Dad. But I sure miss your cooking."

"Flattery will get you a care package, and you know it. What'll it be—cookies or brownies?"

"How about both? You're baking for two now, you know!" David's voice, so alive, so different from the day he'd left to return to university. So much had changed for all of us since then.

"So," I prodded, "the weekend went well?" The boys had just returned from the weekend at Curt's rural home, the weekend Curt had taken him home to meet his parents. I knew how worried both of them had been over it, and I'd spent several phone conversations assuring both of our boys that, no matter what the outcome, they had a home with us. Mary fully agreed, and had amazed David with her offer to write to Curt's parents as a follow-up, if Curt thought her account of how she came to grips with the boys' relationship would help smooth things over.

Curt had taken the bull by the horns, as it were—his father was a cattle rancher—and decided what needed doing was for Curt to introduce David in person to his parents so they could see "just how normal we really are." I swallowed hard, thinking they were proceeding at Mach speed now that they were out at uni and here at home; I urged them to think it through carefully, fully aware of how dependent Curt still was on his parents' financial support.

Brandon, however, had encouraged Curt to call and ask to go home and bring a friend. He pointed out that sooner or later their parents would find out about his living arrangements, and that the longer Curt concealed the facts the more he'd give the impression that he was both deceitful and ashamed—at which both Curt and David had shouted him down. Brandon has turned out to be a very loving and level-headed big brother to both of our boys, and his final piece of advice to Curt was inspired: to be sure to give his dad a chance to steer the conversation since that was the role he had always insisted upon.

"Dad, it was extraordinary. We got to the farm late Saturday afternoon, just in time for dinner. They eat early in the country, you know."

"I'll country you. Get on with it!"

"Well, Curt's mom took one look at us and I could see that she figured it out in a heartbeat. Her face must have run through sixteen different emotions, but the one she ended up with was a glowing smile. She kissed Curt and hugged me and for the first time in weeks I felt as though the world was off my shoulders. We stood there in that country kitchen with all the good smells and her warmth and I knew everything was going to be all right. Curt's dad was a gruff old bear, but he treated me with gentle courtesy throughout our stay and I realized I had no reason to worry about him. They are reserved people, but I could see how much they love Curt and they've had a whole year to come to grips with who he is. That was one of the things we talked about: how, over the year, they'd worked through their feelings and talked through 'what ifs?' and 'whens?' and 'who will he bring home?' I think they were more prepared to meet me than Curt could ever have realized. In an odd sort of way, it turned out to be easier for us to sit and talk about our relationship to them than it had been when I brought Curt home to meet you and mother." David was talking a mile a minute, but I could hear the relief in his voice, and the tension went out of my own shoulders.

"So we turned out to be the bad guys after all," I said.

"Dad! No way! You guys have been wonderful to us! But now we have two families, and our new aim is to get all of us together so you can meet them."

I sighed, happy for my son and his wonderful partner. "Just so we don't have to have a cook-off to keep your attention."

"Send the cookies and we'll see."

Epilogue: Letter to Timothy

James Merkin

Jonathan's Memories

DesDownUnder

Curt looked at David's face, gaunt with emotion, on the brink of tears.

"What's happened?"

David made no reply; he simply extended his arm, proffering the open letter in his hand, nodding his head towards Curt.

Curt took the letter, moving to sit down alongside David on the loveseat. David placed his hand on Curt's back in a comforting gesture and watched his lover's face.

Curt stopped reading and looked at his lover. "Did you know about him and your father?"

"Not until I saw what was in the box of photos and letters I found," replied David, "and even then the wording only had me making an educated guess. Read on and you will see my guesses were not far off the mark."

Curt returned to his reading.

Curt uttered an almost inaudible, "Oh my God." David smiled but his eyes revealed his concern as he watched Curt read.

Curt sat back into the loveseat, then turned his head and their tears were mirrored in each other’s eyes.

"Well he's sure right about you being cute," Curt said, trying to lighten the moment, but then he fell serious again, as only he could. He took David in his arms saying, "Thank God you thought to offer Timothy Jonathan's memories."

Echoing through time, never to depart, were the words, "I love you," as they kissed.