Blue Moon

by dossier

Roy, Gen | Rated T | 2002 | 19,500 words

 

 

His stomach still ached, though she hadn't really hit him hard enough to leave a bruise. Painful because it had been a surprise attack, and for an instant afterward, he'd thought perhaps that he'd deserved it.

Cooler reflection decided that being sucker-punched for speaking the truth was unfair. Laurie had been right, damn it. Why had he told her that she had the right to do that?

He unlocked his apartment, tossed his keys and coat on the table, and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. He drew open the patio doors that faced the harbor and let the cool California winter air flood the apartment.

Three A.M., and he was at home alone nursing a beer and his damaged ego in the darkened apartment.

He did love Laurie, he decided on reflection, though it was not enough to entangle him permanently in her webs of intrigue. She was determined, dynamic, and could be very sweet and hot, when she took the focus from herself and aimed it at him. Roy had loved that intensity, but he had also been grateful when she was distracted from him, relieving him of the spotlight. The depth of that concentration scared him-the same thing that he loved was what had kept him at arms' length.

He hadn't counted on her parent-quest to make her more determined than ever to get married, have babies, and live in some fantasy world with minivans and picket fences. Conformity. He should have realized she wanted everything in her life to be uniform, to reflect itself in every direction.

Roy had no such desire. He wished Laurie luck in finding what she was looking for; he just hoped she wasn't on a search-and-destroy mission.

The Cal 30 was on a lazy broad reach in the bright afternoon sun, cutting through the sparkling, dark blue water of the San Diego Harbor. Dr. Scott Hastings was at the helm, keeping an eye on the traffic in the channel as they neared the Naval Shipyards. They were content merely to be on the water, soaking up the sun, and enjoying the sail, dodging motor vessels carrying loads of sight-seeing tourists as they went about their business. Roy was supposed to be manning the winches, though at the moment he was stretched out on the foredeck, a lifejacket under his head.

"Hey, deck rat— look alive, we're going to tack in a few minutes." Scott hollered. Roy rolled to his feet and tossed the lifejacket down the hatch, making his way back to the cockpit.

"Watch who you call deck rat, Ahab." Roy grinned.

Scott was a tall man with an unruly mop of curly, black hair. He easily stretched his long, bare legs across the lockers and steered with an experienced hand on the tiller.

"Ready to come about?"

Roy loosened the jib sheet from the cleat and had the opposing sheet in his hand, ready to haul the sail across the deck once the wind caught the jib. "Ready to come about."

"Alley-oop, then." Scott shoved the tiller over, and the sails flapped in the brisk breeze as the bow angled across the wind. Roy hauled in the jib and winched it down until it was nearly taut. The knot meter wavered before coming back up to six knots; The Seabird had changed directions with almost no loss of speed. The two of them had sailed together for years; first competing in dinghy and one-design races, then finally graduating to the big boats. The Olympics had been a pipe dream, but the mantels of their respective homes had still been littered with the proof of their amateur expertise.

"Take the tiller, I need to take a whiz and get a beer." Roy adjusted the jib to eliminate a slight flutter, then moved to take the polished mahogany tiller.

He pulled his hat down to eliminate the glare off the water and tweaked the mainsail, bringing the bow a little closer into the wind and causing the boat to heel a few more degrees while the knot meter rose perceptibly. The change in the angle of the boat brought forth a corresponding squawk from below decks. Roy laughed-he knew exactly what he was doing. You could take a sailor out of the race, but you could never take the race out of the sailor.

"Christ almighty, could warn a guy? Just almost pissed all over the sole in the head."

"You should take a leak over the leeward side-larger target."

"Some of us have a little more couth and refinement that prevents us from peeing off the stern. Unlike certain crew members."

Roy gave Scott a look of mock surprise. "Moi? Are you referring to me? I'm wounded."

Scott's laugh was a deep sound that carried on the wind. "You want a beer?"

"Sounds great." Roy scanned the horizon for obstacles and traffic, glanced at the compass and adjusted his course. Scott came out of the companionway with two open beers and a bag of Doritos and sat across from Roy on the low side.

"Thanks."

"De nada."

Scott took a swig of beer and ate a few chips. "So, you wanna tell me about it?"

Roy grimaced. "Oh you know, just the usual Gestapo tactics. Woke me up out of a deep sleep, applied interrogation under bright lights at an ungodly hour, and then got into a little physical abuse to round out the evening."

"No shit."

"Yeah. Ordered me to go home, too."

"You mean you didn't slap her silly and then dick her just to show her who's the boss?" Scott gave him a solemn look with his nearly black eyes, but there was a trace of mirth playing around his generous lips.

Roy looked at him. "And who was uncouth, ill-refined? Remind me not to date you any time in the near future."

Scott smiled openly. "You'll never know what you're missing...."

"I'll pass." Roy took a quick drink of beer before continuing. "I suppose I saw it coming, I just didn't want to believe it-she's been fixated on getting married almost since we started dating last year."

"Well, I can't lie to you buddy. You know how I felt about her. I suppose it was easy to overlook the obsession if the sex was hot enough." Laurie had rubbed Scott raw from the minute they had been introduced, and he was tremendously relieved on many levels, that she had cut Roy loose.

"I know, and please don't say I told you so." Roy glanced over at Scott, who was nonchalantly looking over the windward railing at a speck of a cloud with a smug expression on his face. "Asshole."

"Wimp. I can't believe she hit you, man. Did you two play games like that?"

"Nope, never. She just managed to get in a sneak shot."

"Makes you wonder what other physical abuse would have come down the pike later. You know, I see a lot of male abuse patients too."

Roy didn't respond, but he thought that it had been an isolated incident. Even if Laurie hadn't told him to go, it was over for him anyway. "I didn't plan on staying and being humiliated any further, thank you very much."

"I should hope not. I'm just surprised you stayed as long as you did, with your issues about intimacy." Scott's ever-laughing expression had transformed into his professional mien.

Roy gave him a narrow look over the sunglasses and under the hat brim. "Tell me again why I go sailing with a shrink?"

"Because I'm the only one that let's you take the helm."

"Oh yeah right— I forgot that." Roy dropped the tiller and slid forward to lean against the cabin, stretching theatrically as the boat fell downwind and the sails began to flap.

"I guess you were tired of playing 'steer the boat'." Scott gently pushed the stick away from him to bring the sails back into trim.

Roy adjusted his sunglasses with a one-finger salute, but they were both smiling.

Dr. Scott Hastings' waiting room was empty of patients; the receptionist had let Roy in as she was leaving. Scott's last appointment for the day was still in the office with him, but Roy had been reassured earlier in the day that he was certain to be finished on time.

Roy sat at the receptionist desk and surfed the Internet to kill time while he waited. The outer glass door to the corridor allowed Roy to see the patient when she left Scott's office without having to walk back through the waiting room. Scott stuck his head into the lobby. "Come on in, I just have a few notes to finish here."

Roy threw himself down into the comfortable chair in the office. "Where are we going to go for dinner, or do you care?"

"Are wine, women and song on the agenda?"

"I dunno, maybe. I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday, what a rotten, fucking week."

"Trouble at work?"

"No, I just had a hard time concentrating, we're between projects at the moment and so it's all crap, follow-up work. I think every fucking female in the building was on the rag, too."

"Hmmm, sounds like a statement that borders on the misogynistic; on top of misogamist, I'd say we need to leave women out of the equation and concentrate on wine and song, Mr. Altenloh."

"No, it's fine, I guess I just feel like the whipping boy this week."

"You mean to tell me that hordes of hormonal women didn't throw themselves at your feet when they learned you were single? Losing your touch, old boy."

"I, uh. I didn't tell anyone." Roy sounded faintly embarrassed by the admission.

"Ah." Scott's single sound was neutral, as he finished the patient file and locked it in his desk drawer. "I say we go find margaritas and fajitas."

Roy's hangover was making a nuisance of itself as he waded through the surveys and blueprints for the contract that had been put on his desk this morning. He was glad of the work, though he wished he'd had more sense than to let Scott talk him into the shots of tequila.

The phone rang - way too loudly - and he snatched it off the cradle to keep it from continuing the infernal racket. "Altenloh."

"Hey Roy, its Louise."

The name rocked him; he hadn't talked to his sister-in-law in months. Roy paused and took a deep breath as his gut clinched up; he had a pretty good idea of what was coming. It was the phone call he had dreaded for two years. "Hey, Weezy, what's up?"

"Well you know me, no news is good news. Poppy's declining pretty fast, he's lucid at the moment, and he wants to talk to you. Here he is."

"Hello son, how are you?" The familiar voice had weakened into a papery, tremulous shade in the months since he had last spoken to his friend and former father-in-law.

"I'm fine, Del. Weezy says you aren't doing so good." This was a hard conversation to have anytime, but the hangover was compounding the difficulty.

"No, the doctors decided that any more treatment would just be prolonging the inevitable, so they sent me packing with enough morphine to sedate the Bulgarian fifth. I'm dying, Roy. I just can't get around it this time."

"God, Poppy, I sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, it's something we all face sooner or later."

"Can I come and see you?"

"I'd like that, Roy. I was hoping you would. Don't wait too long, though."

"I'll come soon, Poppy, as soon as I can."

"Weezy wants to talk to you again."

"Okay." Roy leaned back in his chair, with his hand over his eyes, and his feet on his desk, listening to the rustling as the phone was handed back to Louise.

"Are you coming out, Roy?" Louise was the one who got things done. An uncomplicated woman with an adequate education; after her own divorce, she had followed her father to Texas when he had retired to Smithville after the funding for the construction of the Superconducting Super Collider Laboratory in Waxahachie had been stripped away.

"Yeah, I'll call the travel office and see if they can set me up something to leave tonight, but I'll call you back. What's the name of the motel in town again?"

"No way, Roy, you're coming to visit family, no way are you staying at the fleabag flop they have as an excuse for a motel in Smithville. We've got the room."

"Bless you, Weezy. I'll call you."

Roy called the travel office and ended up with a flight and a rental car for early the next day. He looked at the pile on his desk and realized that after turning it over to some one else to be handled in the interim, it wouldn't be possible to retrieve it. He was just going to hope they understood, and he wasn't cutting his professional throat.

After he had farmed out the last of the work to his team and made arrangements to be out of the office for an unspecified amount of time, he recalled the plans he had made with Scott for the next weekend, while he had been in a drunken stupor.

"Dr. Hastings office." The receptionist amused him; she was nearly twenty years his senior and had a bit of a crush on him. He usually flirted with her, but today was an exception.

"Hi Lee, its Roy, is Scott available?"

"Hello Roy. How are *you* this morning? I heard you gave quite a performance last night."

"Uh, yeah. Not so good today." He just didn't feel like making chit-chat-he'd have to make it up to her later. Lee would understand

She made a maternal clucking noise, but dropped the subject. "Scott's free at the moment, I'll get him for you."

"Thanks." He was sincere in this, at least.

"My pleasure." Fortunately she was too professional to show whether or not she was miffed.

"Roy, my man, how are you holding up? I'm surprised you're alive this morning."

"I gave up trying to sleep through the hangover at five and came to work."

Scott shivered in sympathy. "My condolences."

"Bastard, you're the one that made me drink those shots."

"I merely made a suggestion to you in a highly suggestible state. You acted of your own free will."

"How can anyone have true free will after four of those margaritas?"

"One of the great philosophical debates of the twenty-first century."

"Yeah, right. Hey, let me switch to an even more fun subject. Louise called today and I talked to Del."

"Oh shit."

"Right, exactly. They sent him home to die."

"Dammit. They had it licked for so long!"

"Anyway, I called to cancel the sail next weekend. I'm taking off for Texas in the morning, and I don't know when I'll be back."

"You're going to go visit Del? I want to go, I can get away for a few days." Scott had been close to Del for as many years as Roy, and the shock of knowing this was the end of that was like a knife in his heart. He a feeling that Roy was going to need a little support over the next few days, and Scott wanted to be there with Del, and Roy.

"I know he'd be glad to see you, you were always his favorite."

"Roy, I wasn't the one that married his baby girl. Is Sharon going to be there?"

That stopped Roy in his tracks; he hadn't asked about her at all. "I got so wrapped up in talking to Del, I forgot to ask."

"Does it matter if she's there?"

"I dunno. I'll think about that later. Louise said they had the room. I guess that means I'm not shacking up with my ex-wife."

"We can be grateful for small favors." Scott thought it rather a good sign that Sharon hadn't crossed Roy's mind, it was time indeed for him to get past the ugliness into which that relationship had spiraled.

"Sure... I'm on the nine am flight to Houston tomorrow, and I've got a car reservation. Just going to go - see how things are before I decide when to come back."

"So, you're not rushing back to work? Good for you." Roy was an infamous workaholic, and in Scott's opinion, it was an avoidance tactic.

"I may regret this later." It felt like he was about to walk off the edge of a very tall cliff.

"I doubt that very much," reassured his friend.

It was the next afternoon before they found themselves on a Texas highway headed to Smithville. The sere, brown landscape was dotted far and wide with few trees, many cattle, and the occasional clapboard lean-to that housed rusty farm equipment. The smooth road and the low sloping hills were hypnotic, and the long drive after they'd arrived in Houston was quiet. They had spent the flight east reminiscing over the summer days spent with Del during their youth. Del had been a major influence in their lives as the instructor of the youth sailing classes at the yacht club, and they had learned more than on-the water tactics from him.

Lost in the sad realization that the man they had respected and looked up to was about to pass from their lives forever, the excitement of being on the road had lost some of its glamour. They arrived in the late afternoon. The unseasonably hot sun beat down on them as they exited the rented Lincoln and walked to the rambling, single-story ranch house. Louise stepped out on the shady verandah as they neared the house.

She looked good—life on a small farm in rural Texas agreed with her. She hugged each of them in turn.

"God, it's good to see you two. Thanks for coming, I know Poppy is gonna be glad to see you too, both of you."

"How is he?" The trepidation he felt made Roy ask the question in a subdued voice. This particular eventuality was one he not yet faced as an adult.

"Pretty good today for a man dying of cancer. He's in some pain, 'cause he didn't want to take all his morphine, since you were coming in." Louise was matter of fact. She'd had time to come to an understanding after she and her father had spent long hours talking about the realities of death.

Scott let professional experience with the dying override his sick anxiety. "What stage is he at?"

"The doctors agreed to let him come home and die. There wasn't nothing they could do any more; he's got it through and through, and the long trips to Houston were taking a lot out of him. I guess we better go in, and you can see for yourselves." Louise didn't always understand the terminology or remember it, so she just told what she knew.

Del had refused to be relegated to a back bedroom, so part of the large great room had been converted into a sick room. His rented hospital bed was arranged so he could see the kitchen, the television, and the back yard. Louis's children had assimilated the situation, accepting it in the way that only the young can do, and the sounds of their play filtered in through the closed sliding glass doors.

The two tall, dark-haired men stepped into the room, and Del appeared to be asleep. The gaunt, frail man in the bed looked as if he had aged a hundred years since they had last seen him. The image was shocking to Roy. He hung back in disbelief, suddenly regretting his decision to come and see Del. He wanted to remember him vibrant and alive. Not this ghost.

Scott had expected it; he went to the bedside and watched his mentor and friend as he slept. The flesh had withered away, leaving his thin, translucent skin hanging in loose, spotted folds over his bones. Most of his hair had been lost in the rounds of intense radiation therapy, and the few remaining pale wisps curled around his temples like a silver roman circlet, bright in the filtered light from the window. Scott pulled the chair next to the bed closer, and gently took Del's brittle hand in his own.

"He's not got very much longer with us. He's been hanging on 'til he says his goodbyes, I think." Louise stood next to Roy, her solid warmth reassuring him. Weezy had always been the older sister he'd never had, and her family had felt like his own long before he married into it. "He'll wake up in a bit, you can talk to him then. You got any bags you want to bring in?"

Roy shook himself out of his transfixion on the sight. "Yeah, there's a couple."

"Let's get them, and we'll get you guys settled in. I got some steaks out of the deep freeze this morning for us, and there's some wine to go with it too."

Roy followed Weezy out to the car; he hadn't seen any sign of his ex-wife, and he was curious. "Is Sharon here?"

"Not yet—the baby was born a week and a half or so ago, and she thinks she might be able to travel in the next couple of days. It wasn't easy for her."

That shocked Roy, he knew she had gotten remarried but had no idea that she had gotten pregnant. It was something he didn't want to examine at all. The room given to him and Scott was plain, with four comfortable-looking twin beds. "I told the boys they could all sleep out in the camper, they were in hog heaven." She grinned at Roy. "I 'spect I'll have to go break up a few fights in the next couple of nights."

"We didn't mean to be an imposition, Weezy."

"None at all, little brother. I just didn't think you'd want to share the queen bed in the other room with Scott."

Roy jerked his head up and looked at her. She was wearing a wide grin, and an evil look gleamed in her eye. "Unless I was wrong...."

He was appreciative of her attempt to lighten his mood with the old joke, but was a little scandalized, too. "How can you laugh?"

"Honey, we cry, we laugh and then move on. We can't do anything about what's goin' to happen; we just have to accept it and take the day as it comes to us." She paused in the door. "Though some days I wish it would be the day, when his pain is really bad. Dying ain't the worst thing that can happen to a person." She closed the door to the room and left Roy alone to contemplate her parting words.

He tossed Scott's bag on the bed next to him and made a little room in the closet amongst the boys' things to hang his clothes. Roy knew he was avoiding going out into the great room, but he needed some time to assimilate the sight and smell of sickness. He lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating Dels' death, the divorce from Sharon, her baby, and Laurie's parting shot. Would he be able to say when he died that he had a legacy half as wonderful as Del's? He was considering the same about his own parents when Scott came into the room.

He quietly unpacked his own bag, then sat on the edge of the bed next to Roy. Scott said nothing for a few minutes, but he absently stroked the jean-clad thigh next to him, waiting.

Roy looked over at Scott. "I don't know what to say to him."

Scott looked into Roy's eyes. "Just remember that the old Del is still in there," he tapped his temple with his other hand, "but he's changing. His focus has shifted and it's not just the painkillers. This is more than just *a* change; it's the Big One. He's very busy in there, making his peace with himself. Laying things to rest. You'll see flashes of Poppy, but his conversation is going to be a little fragmented, older memories will surface. It won't be easy, but just give him what he needs. I think you'll find it ends up being what you need, too."

Roy nodded absently, but didn't say anything. The two of them stayed together like that for a moment longer. The gesture was a very human thing, the need to touch and reassure in time of stress. The large hand that smoothed over the denim comforted Roy; but he ignored the truth in that touch.

Scott finally slapped Roy's knee, and stood up. "Come on, Gonzer. Let's go see what's shaking out there." He held out his hand to Roy, who took it and easily rolled to his feet.

The meals' remains lay scattered on the table. The younger children had taken off for the camper parked next to the barn to arrange their evening adventure as soon as they'd scarfed down their dinner; but John, the oldest of the four, stayed at the table. The chance to sit and listen to his uncles was too alluring. Roy, Scott and Weezy were swapping tales of some of their mis-adventures as teenagers, and it was a revelation to him to hear them laugh about their embarrassing foibles.

"Scott, my god, have you no shame? I'll never live it down. My image as a mother has been permanently shattered!" Louise wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes with a clean corner of her paper napkin. "God, I needed that, I'm so glad you came home." Roy smiled at that; he had forgotten what it was like to feel at home again.

The phone rang, and it broke the spell at the table. Louise went to answer it, and John began to pick up the dishes.

Roy gave his nephew a pat on the back. "I know your mom appreciates the help. It's probably no fun though." John was quiet, and more sedate than he had been last time Roy had seen the teenager, and he wondered if the carefree child he had known would ever return.

John shrugged. "I get to do a lot of things she didn't let me do before. I got a hardship license to drive, so I could take us all to school and stuff."

"Wow, driving and everything. That's pretty cool." Roy drained the last of the St. Genevieve burgundy in his glass and started to help John with the table.

"How's high school?" Scott began to stack the dishes and silver that lay around him.

John replied in the overly philosophical manner of a teenager. "Being a freshman sucked, but I'm a sophomore now, so it's a little better."

"I can relate to that, I found high school particularly difficult; though with my friends I managed to get through it." Scott looked at Roy, who glanced up to meet his eyes. The years of their shared history passed between them in that swift glance.

Louise had just hung up the phone when they all came into the kitchen bearing plates and glasses, and she looked at Roy a little uneasily. "That was Sharon."

His face tightened slightly, and he pressed his lips together. He knew what he was about to hear. He put his hands on the edge of the sink and leaned into it slightly.

"She called to say that she's coming in tomorrow, asked if someone could pick her up at the Austin airport about noon. I said someone would be there."

No one said anything for a minute.

Roy cleared his throat; he knew they were waiting for him to say something. "Is she coming alone?"

Louise snorted at that. "Asshole can't break himself away, so it's just her and the baby." Apparently Sharon's second husband hadn't made a very good impression on Louise.

He turned the water on and began to pile the old, familiar plates into the sink. There was nothing to say, and he wasn't going to pretend it didn't bother him.

Del chose that moment to wake up again, and Louise went to check on him. Roy looked up from the sink and saw that both Scott and John were watching him expectantly. He smiled weakly at them. "I guess I wasn't as ready to hear that as I thought I was."

"I can't say that it'll be okay, but you'll get through it." Scott only had to deal with his feelings about Del; Roy had a whole host of issues to deal with-he knew that this weekend was going to be a trial by fire for his oldest and dearest friend. "You know what they say; that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

"God, Scott! Enough with the platitudes; say something useful!" Roy cocked his head sideways and gave Scott perturbed look.

Scott wordlessly accepted the chastisement for the failed humor. Roy's posture as he leaned over the sink was screaming 'tense'.

Louise back came into the kitchen. "He's awake now, wants to see his boys. I'll finish up in here." John made a move to follow them; his mother put a staying hand on his shoulder.

Roy dried his hands, pulled himself together and went to see his dying friend, as dear to him as his own father. Scott was right behind him.

Del's pale eyes were watering as the two came into view. He lifted his arms briefly, and Roy leaned in, gathering up the weak man in a gentle hug.

It was too much. The pent up emotions that Roy had been holding in broke open, and he began to cry. The tears soaked the plain hospital gown Del wore; his puny arms held Roy, trying to comfort him. He whispered in a voice that was faint and thin. "I love you, son."

Roy his pressed his lips against the cheek in a damp kiss. "I love you too, Poppy." Roy disentangled himself from the wet embrace, wiping his eyes and nose with the tissue that Scott had placed by the bed, while Scott took his turn in hugging the man that had provided him with a safe haven during trying times.

Scott pulled up another chair next to the bed, took a Kleenex and gently wiped the withered face dry of the shared tears.

"Why did you wait so long to tell us?"

"I spent a long time coming to it. I almost didn't want to see you, wanted you to keep me in your heart the way I used to be." Del turned his head slightly to look at them. "But, I'm a selfish old man, and I wanted to see you a last time."

"I'm glad you did." Roy surprised himself with that. The fear and revulsion he had felt earlier was gone, replaced by an instinctual tenderness. He wanted so badly to be able to make it all magically disappear, to change fate.

"I knew that you would never forgive me, or yourself, if I didn't give you that chance. It's hard knowing that everyone is going to go on without me."

Scott answered softly. "We'll never be without you, ever."

"It's enough for me that you're here now."

The evening and late into the night was spent in fitful conversation, as Del drifted in and out of awareness, until finally he gave up and reached for the control to his subclavian morphine drip. "I'm going to go to sleep now. You boys get some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

That was the only reference he had given to the future, all else had been ranging into the past.

In the morning, Scott volunteered to make the drive to pick Sharon up from the airport and took off a little early so he could pick up the few things on the list that Louise had given him.

Roy pulled a more comfortable chair over by the bed, and he watched the slow rise and fall of Del's chest, concerned that his breath seemed to falter.

"It's normal, Roy. Scary to think that maybe it just won't start up again."

He turned to look. Her calm nature had seemed almost callous yesterday, but sadness showed in her today. "It's been hard for you." Roy stated the obvious, but it was all he could think of to say.

"It's been difficult, but I wouldn't have done it any differently if I'd had the chance."

Del rustled slightly. In a falsetto British accent he said, "I'm not dead yet." His eyes were still closed, but he was smiling.

Louise and Roy laughed; this was what Scott had meant. The wicked humor that was part of the Del he knew and loved was still lurking there, under the surface.

"Weezy, would you get me something to drink?" Del opened his eyes, and gave her a steady look. "Don't hurry."

Roy looked at Del as Louise took off to the kitchen. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"You. Scott. Sharon. Laurie."

"Laurie and I parted company last week. She pushed too hard, wanted more than I had to give. I should have made that clear to her a lot sooner."

Del considered this for a moment. "That's not exactly true, is it?"

Roy twitched uncomfortably in his chair. "Uh, well."

"What you really meant was, more than what you wanted to give."

"I guess."

"I know you and Sharon spent years tearing each other apart, but it's not always like that. You have to give yourself a chance to trust again."

"Just seems like the part that attracts them isn't the part of me that I want them to love." Roy had spent a lot of time thinking about where his failures lay.

"Closing yourself off, son. You should look to someone that already knows who you are and loves you."

Roy's look glanced away nervously, towards the kitchen. "I don't think that Louise and I have that in common." Roy had a feeling he understood what Del was telling him, but it was a picture that refused to come into focus.

Del snorted a dismissal. "Leave yourself open, son."

Roy stared at Del in confusion. "I don't think I can, Poppy."

"Don't wait too long though, life has a funny way of taking advantage of you."

Roy was more than a little annoyed by the fact that Del always had a way of getting to the crux of the matter with a minimum of effort. "It's just not fair."

"Nope, never is."

Louise returned with a small array of things to drink. She never knew from one minute to the next what Del's dulled taste buds and queasy stomach would find palatable. He took a couple sips from one or two glasses then waved her away. None of it appealed to him, and he was disgusted by all of it.

The doorbell rang, and Roy answered it. A pretty Latino woman stood there with a large bag over her shoulder. "Hi, I'm Angie Cordoba, the hospice care nurse." She moved toward the door, and Roy moved aside.

"Hi, I'm Roy. Come in." He said it as she walked past him and into the room.

"Thanks." She gave him a bright smile and then went straight to work, efficiently stripping off the light hospital gown. It was apparent to Roy that he was more of a hindrance than a help, and he wasn't sure he wanted to watch this particular ritual. He went out on the verandah. The weather had turned cold, rain drizzling from the sky.

Roy stood on the protected porch, leaning against the rough rail. Could life get any more screwed? Facing the future had never been so difficult. It seemed the simple joys that had lit his past were being extinguished one by one; the days ahead were dim and grey.

There was no doubt he was at a crossroads, and the paths he saw ahead were all rough and full of pitfalls. God, he hated being an adult! Was this the reason for faith? That one could turn your troubles over to a higher power, abrogating personal responsibility?

'That was a mean train of thought, Roy', he said to himself, though the pending arrival of is ex-wife and her baby with his gay best friend to watch over the death of her father made him fervently pray to God.

The temperature was dropping rapidly and the wind was coming up. The light rain was going to be sleet soon. He never got over how fast the weather changed in Texas.

He wiped the rain from his face with his hands, and went back in the house. The nurse had bathed Del, the sheets were clean, and he lay very still in the bed. She locked the medication chamber on the morphine pump after refilling it, then put the empty in her medical bag. She'd turned in the chair and was talking to Del in a soft voice, delicately stroking his forehead. Angie picked up a comb, and swirled his few fine hairs into little curls against his temples, murmuring comforting words all the while.

In that instant Roy had spun a fairy tale life for the two of them. He'd move to the farm, and they would have lovely children with dark eyes. Roy wanted her to stroke his forehead that way and care for him until they passed beyond the dark veil. He shook his head; this fantasy was a symptom of his disturbed psyche grabbing at straws. Or so Scott would say, anyway.

Angie turned towards Roy, and smiled as he walked towards the bed. He stood next to her, inhaling the faint smell of perfume in her dark silky hair.

"Even though he's under the influence of the morphine, he can still hear you, he processes things in a way. More emotional than empiric though."

"Yeah?" He'd heard his mother talk about stuff like that before, patients under anesthesia hearing what surgeons were saying.

"So, are you family to Mr. Cullen?" Angie inquired politely.

"I am. I was. I - uh - mean, I was married to his daughter Sharon for twelve years, but we got divorced a few years back. I've known him since I was fifteen though."

"Oh, that long?" She laughed at her own joke; the sound was irresistible and pulled him along into laughing with her.

"That was an uncalled for low-blow." He was still smiling.

"I think you needed that laugh."

"Probably. Said ex-wife is on her way in from the airport."

"I'm glad she made it. It had been a little touch and go with the baby and getting a travel release."

"So, you talk to her often?" Roy he felt a little jealous, the family had continued to go on without him.

"On the telephone, she's the one that asks all the technical questions." It was an answer, but a little evasive. Angie glanced at her watch with a thoughtful look. "I have to go. I'll come back another day to chat with her, maybe tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll be sure and tell her, she'll appreciate the gesture." Roy wasn't at all certain what Sharon would or wouldn't appreciate, but it sounded polite enough.

"Thank you. I'll see myself out. See you tomorrow."

Angie left, and Louise came in the back door a while later. "Did Angie leave?"

Roy had sat in the chair next to Del with a magazine from the stack on the coffee table. "Yeah, said she'd be back tomorrow."

"Good. I'm going take the boys out to the hay shed in the far pasture, check on the feed out there, and see if I can't wear them out some. They'll probably be camping on the den floor tonight."

"I'll keep Del company and hang out here."

Louise was shrugging into a padded flannel jacket. "I know we're both glad for that. There's some stuff in the kitchen for lunch if they come in before I get back." She went out the back door, leaving Del and Roy in silence.

The faint thump of car doors sometime later signaled the arrival of Scott and Sharon. The dull, cranky feeling he'd been entertaining in his gut all morning ratcheted up into actual cramps. There had been very little amicable about their separation or divorce, and the last seven years of their relationship had been hell.

Roy was certain that he could maintain a civil air-it would be rude to Del and Louise to do otherwise. If it were too bad, he would gracefully pack up and leave so unlike his behavior in their former relationship. His refusal to accept defeat had kept him there long after it was obvious to everyone else that it was over.

Scott came into the house first, hollering before he even got in the door. "Hi, Honey, we're home!" Grinning, he gave Roy a reassuring look. Engulfed in his arms, the tiny infant looked like a doll. Scott was perfectly at ease with the child cradled on his arm, sleeping peacefully through the racket. Sharon was on his heels; she looked torn between worry about the baby being out of her control, and relief from the same. Scott showed no sign of giving up the girl child anytime soon.

Roy stood as they came into the great room. "Hi, Sharon." He felt like an interloper, that he didn't belong here anymore, that this was all horribly wrong.

"Hi Roy. How are you?" she stood in the living room tensely waiting for him to make the next move.

"Pretty well. You look good." Small talk. Yeah, small talk.

"Thanks." It seemed as if she had another comment to make, but held it back.

Roy could just imagine what it was that she had not said. "How was your trip?"

"It was horrible. My flight got delayed out of Santa Barbara, and they almost didn't hold the plane at DFW. Almost had to do an OJ, but they got me some assistance, and we made it after all. Not something I recommend doing with a ten-day old infant, I'll tell you that."

"Does sound awful. Would you like a drink or something?"

"Hey thanks, a glass of water would be great," Sharon replied casually, as she walked over to Del's bed and kissed his forehead. She looked at her father appraisingly, as if she was taking inventory of the changes since she had last seen him.

Scott finally completed his circuit of the room, and he stopped next to Roy as he returned with the bottle of water. "Can you believe the airline tried to delay this little angel?"

Roy looked at Scott like he had lost his mind. "Uh, no-not really, how dare they?" His only resort had to be humor. He leaned over to look at the angel in question, when Sharon involuntarily stepped forward and reached for the child. "I need to ask you to go wash your hands before you pick her up."

Scott's face said it all. 'Yes-I-had-to-go-wash-my-hands-in-the-airport'. He said very seriously, "she's only 10 days old, after all."

"I was *just* going to look at her." Roy was a little terse, and already on the edge; the exchange annoyed him. He took one step toward Scott, who held her up for viewing, and Roy dutifully looked at the baby for a minute. Cute baby. He refused to speculate on might-have-beens, and the odd dynamic of Laurie and Sharon's biological clocks. "Gimme the car keys, and I'll go get the bags out of the car." He turned to Sharon, and handed her the forgotten water. "Del's been asleep for a while now. Louise took the boys out to check on some cows or something. Left some lunch in the kitchen for you for when you got in."

His duty dispensed with; he took the keys dangling from Scotts' hand and pulled on his jacket as he went outside. The sleet had lightened up, but the temperature had plummeted. He opened the trunk of the Lincoln and was appalled at the mountain of belongings. Portable crib, stroller, bags, diapers, suitcases, and the spoils from Scott's shopping trip were all wedged tightly in the huge trunk. Now he understood the need for the airport assistance.

He picked up the crib and stroller and was heading towards the house, when Scott passed on his way to the car to assist. "My god, it's incredible."

"Just think-women used to walk around with the child strapped to their chest with a piece of cloth. Oh for the good old days." Roy laughed.

They were on their fourth and final trip, when Louise drove in. The two older boys jumped out of the bed of the pick up; the last of the packages were handed to them, and they ran after the two younger ones that had beat them to the front door.

"So how was the reunion?" Louise fell in step with them as they followed the boys.

"Pretty anticlimactic compared to the build up I gave it in my head. I think I can be objective. I just have to forget the last decade or so!"

Scott objected to that idea. "Don't forget the past, just learn from it and move on."

"You know for a smart guy, you don't seem to have much useful information." Roy shot a glowering look at Scott.

"Just doing my best to cloud the issues."

Part of the afternoon was spent in Roy forging an uneasy truce with Sharon. He figured that this was the moral equivalent of a watering hole. He didn't want to leave, and she needed the time to deal with her father. And it seemed much easier now-she had changed, maybe they both had changed; but mostly she seemed to have a different perspective and attitude, said she had discovered new depths in herself she'd never thought she had. He found that he was glad she was happy with her new life. It took the guilty pressure off, that he had been the cause of so much misery for her.

While Sharon attended her father, Louise had taken over the care of Adelaide. The chance to fuss over a sweet baby girl was a rare opportunity, since her oldest was fifteen, the youngest was seven, and they were all boys. Sharon hadn't been able to travel for the last few months, and though she'd had frequent telephone conversations with her father it wasn't the same as getting to be physically close.

Scott and Roy sat at the other end of the room, reading and watching a movie on television, resting up before the main event. The ingredients for large amounts of homemade pizza had been Scotts' idea; he and Roy were going to make sure Louise had a night off. The boys were excited-pizza was a rarity being so far out in the country, and they had been promised they could help make it.

Del was again awake late at night, and so was Miss Addy-tude, as Scott had dubbed her after a major crying jag during dinner. Roy was sitting at the table, having a last beer with Scott as they talked about plans to re-varnish the woodwork on Seabird and watched Sharon introduce Del to his last grandchild. He wasn't really strong enough to hold her, so she lay on the bed between Del and Sharon, while he talked to her and petted her. They couldn't hear what he was saying, but it didn't matter, for it was inconsequential nattering. Adelaide had calmed down and was staring at him intently. It was obvious from her fuzzy, dark blue gaze that she was uncertain of what was going on, but the attention was welcome. Del tired quickly, though he seemed pleased to have her beside him.

Roy found himself tearing up at the significance of the scene. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and took another drink of beer as he again thought of his parents. He was the only child of Dr. Major Allison and Dr. David Altenloh. David Altenloh was a plastic surgeon with a private practice, Allison was a cardiac surgeon in the Navy, and her dual-career had consumed more and more of her time as Roy had grown older. Roy had led a privileged childhood of country clubs and housekeepers but hadn't felt real acceptance or warmth until he had met Del, and subsequently his daughters. Del had taught him the value of family.

Scott snapped his fingers in front of Roy's face. "Hey, where did you go?"

"I was just thinking about Mom and Dad. I was going to call yesterday to tell them about Del but didn't. I know Dad will be upset."

"You've been pre-occupied. Why don't you call them now?"

"It's like one am in Maryland!"

"Doesn't matter, you'll feel better, and they will too."

Roy went to the den where his coat was hanging to retrieve his cell phone. Louise was watching the boys perpetrate digital mayhem on one another with Goldeneye, the sounds of gunfire and music underscoring their cries of defeat and victory.

He dialed the number and his mother answered the phone almost immediately.

"Hi Mom, it's me."

"Well, hi you. What's the matter?"

"I'm in Texas at Del's house."

"Oh dear. That bad?"

"Yeah, I got here yesterday. Dell called and wanted me to come visit, at the last moment it seems."

"Scott's there with you?"

"He is."

"That's good, kinda comes full circle, then"

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guess so."

"Your father wants to talk to you, here."

Roy heard his mother relate the bare details of his news as she handed David the phone. "So, this is it?"

"'Fraid so, Dad. I got here yesterday, and I've had a couple of chances to talk to him, but it's..." Roy was surprised to find himself choking up, and the tears threatened again. He left the den, walked down the hallway to give himself a little privacy and let the tears come. "I just can't believe it, in a way. I keep expecting him to jump out of the bed and tell me this is all some horrible practical joke." Roy managed to gasp out the details to his father, including his break up with Laurie, and seeing Sharon, her baby and Del, and his father just let him run out of things to say, only making concerned, comforting comments until Roy was done.

"This is a tough time for you, son. I'm glad you called. I'm sorry you're hurting." David was used to Roy calling and pouring out his heart, it was now a ritual for them. "Is Del awake, you think I could talk to him?

Roy wiped his face and nose on a tissue he got from the bathroom, and went out to the great room to check. The conversation hadn't lasted very long, but he found that Sharon had picked up Adelaide and moved to the recliner. Scott had taken her place next to the bed and moved aside as Roy approached, taking in the red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face. It was to be expected.

Roy stroked Del's arm in a waking gesture. "Hey, are you awake? Dad wants to talk to you."

Del turned his face toward Roy, and nodded slightly. Roy put the little cell phone up to his ear, and Del made a 'hello-ish' sound but didn't say anymore. He listened, and when it looked like the conversation was over Roy put the phone to his own ear.

"I think he went back to sleep, Dad."

"It's fine, I just wanted a chance to say good bye. I'm glad you called, Roy, and shared that with me. I know he has meant a lot to you."

Roy couldn't really reply to that, he just cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"Call me in a day or two, and let me know how you're doing, okay?"

"I will. I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, son. Say hello to Scott for me."

"I will. Bye, dad."

Roy hit the end call button, put the phone on the table to finish his now-warm beer in a single, easy swallow, and found that Scott was watching him. "I'm going to take a shower, I think."

Scotts' dark eyes were still focused on his friend. "That sounds like a good idea, maybe you should get some sleep, too." Roy's anguish mirrored his own, and the distress he felt showed on Roy's face too.

"Maybe. I'm sorry, Dad said to say hello— I didn't think to put you on the line."

"Don't worry about it, that's fine. I'll call and chat with him another time."

Roy nodded, then leaned over to Del, putting his hand on the cool forehead then kissed him again. Del had always been free with physical affection, and Roy thought he would miss the fatherly pats and caresses the most.

Roy showered briefly; the odd smell of the well water wasn't conducive to staying in there very long. He brushed his teeth and dressed in the sweats he'd been using for pajamas while he was there. He was tired, but didn't feel very sleepy, so he went back out to the living room and sat on the long brown leather couch. He stretched his long legs out, and spent a minute watching Sharon and the baby.

"My hands are clean." He didn't say it very loudly, but Sharon heard him.

She smiled; it was a smile he hadn't seen in a long time. "That's good. Would you like to hold her, so I can go take a quick shower?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like to." The reassurance that there was life after death in the form of children appealed to him very much at that moment.

Sharon handed him Adelaide. "Hold her like this, keep her head from falling back. Yes, that's good." She tucked the flannel blanket around Adelaide a little, then retreated to the bathroom, leaving Roy in charge.

It was odd, holding the child that could have been his, if time and circumstances hadn't said otherwise. Though asleep, she clenched his finger when he stroked the palm of her hand. She squirmed slightly, turning her head towards him, and the tiny, perfect lips made sucking motions. He leaned in to look at her more closely, taking in the pink, perfect skin, the pale blonde wash of hair, and the faint matching eyebrows. The potential in that miniature countenance struck him; the days of swings, dolls, school, and boy friends ahead of her instilled a little awe in him.

He hadn't felt this way when he'd seen Louise's infant boys, but then he hadn't been very much interested; nor had he been on the edge of one of life's precipices. He thought to himself that maybe this is part of what Del had asked him to do, to let himself open up and let life into his heart.

He was still sitting there contemplating Adelaide's life, hoping she might find someone like Del to show her the ropes, when Sharon returned from the shower.

"I'll never get used to that smell, god. You okay there or you want to give her up?"

"I think we're fine. Until she wakes up."

"Oh, that's when they are the most fun." Sharon said that half jokingly.

Louise came in from the den, and looked around the living room. "I guess no-one seems to be very sleepy." She looked at Roy and Adelaide; "you look comfy."

Roy smiled at her. "Weird, huh?"

"Very weird, but cute. Seems to suit you. The boys wanted some brownies; I figured I'd indulge them a little. I'm going to put some coffee on, would you like some?"

"That would be good, yeah I would."

Sharon and Scott both thought dessert and coffee would be a good idea, and Sharon went to help Louise.

Scott left Del's side and came and sat down in the chair next to Roy. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"I never figured you as a sucker for babies, Scott." Roy wondered that someone he had known so long would still have some surprises left in him.

"One of the drawbacks I guess. I do like kids, but it's going to be difficult to have any, considering."

"It would be. I suppose Sharon might lend us one every now and then."

It was Scott's turn to be surprised. "That's a very strange remark."

Roy looked over at him, and suddenly realized what he had said. "No, it's fucking bizarre. Where the hell did that come from?"

Scott shrugged. "I guess we're her uncles in an oblique way."

"I can just see the look on her husbands' face when Sharon tells him her ex-husband and her gay best friend from high school want visitation rights to their first born."

That set them off, and they laughed hard at the mental image they had created. Neither of them had ever met Sharon's new husband and the father of little Adelaide, but it was just too much.

Adelaide woke up, the sound of deep laughter was strange and her face screwed up threatening to cry. Roy shushed her and petted her a little, and she didn't break into tears.

"Deftly done, my man. You seem to be a natural at this."

"Huh."

Sharon and Louise came back and sat down. "So what are you two goofsters laughing about?"

Scott, of course, had no shame. "We were just calculating the odds on the possibility of getting visitation rights to Miss Addy-tude here. We didn't think the ex-husband and his gay friend would have a very good chance in court."

Roy colored immediately; he hadn't expected Scott to really say what they were laughing at.

They teased him about blushing, and for a moment it was just the four of them laughing and talking as it had been in years past. It felt good, a little weight in his heart lifted.

Adelaide chose that instant suddenly go rigid in his arms, nearly catapulting herself to the floor, and screaming at the top of her little lungs. She turned bright red and writhed in his arms, making it hard to keep a hold of her.

This wasn't common, but it had happened before, and Sharon scooped her up, rescuing a very bewildered Roy.

Scott looked worried, but Louise was calm. "What did you do, Roy? Pinch her?'

He looked shocked and started to defend himself. "I didn't do *anything*!" Then Louise smiled at him, and he realized he was being teased again.

The timer on the oven went off, and Louise went towards the kitchen to pull the brownies out, but the way Del was lying in the bed made her stop to check on him. The thready respiration had seemed to stop and she couldn't find a pulse. Del had passed, but he didn't look particularly peaceful. His death mask was a rictus of grim relief.

"Oh my God, oh my God, Poppy..." Louise wailed, then sat with a heavy thump into the chair and began to cry.

Roy, Scott and Sharon, still holding the screaming child, rushed over to the bed. They stood there, staring, as the boys ran into the room to see what the ruckus was about. The two little ones began to cry because they saw their mother crying— the death of grandpa was still a dry concept for them. John and Paul understood better, and for a few minutes everyone stood huddled together, the expected had caught them unawares.

Adelaide and Louise both proved to be inconsolable, the baby echoing the emotional charge as the rock of the Cullen family shattered and crumbled. Trying to calm the crying baby, Sharon was crying too. The stove continued to beep for attention.

Scott went to the kitchen, and retrieved the pan before the brownies burned, although any desire for the treat had been forgotten. Roy gave Sharon a hug, holding her and the baby in his arms for a moment, and then he took Adelaide from her a little awkwardly, though successfully. He took her to the bedroom and closed the door in an attempt to bring a little quiet to the scene. He walked up and down the aisle at the foot of the bed, crying on the blanket that enveloped her. Eventually they both stopped crying and after another half-hour he had wooed her back to sleep. Roy was greatly relieved as she cooled down after she stopped crying.

Taking a chance that she wouldn't wake up again, he took her back out into the great room. Louise was still rooted to the chair, and John was perched on the chair with her. Sharon had pulled the other chair up as well and the three of them were silent. Scott was in the den with the boys; they were all sitting together on the floor talking. Roy caught his attention and gave him a silent plea for assistance.

Scott nodded and took a minute to finish up the conversation. He extracted himself from them, and came to Roy's aid.

"What should I do with her?"

"Well, let's see if she'll go in her crib." Scott lifted her out of Roys' grasp and then set her down in the soft-sided, portable crib. She moved restlessly for a moment then stilled. "She'll be up in few hours. It's going to be a long day."

They stood there and looked at her for a moment, before Scott snapped off the lamp. They began to walk to the door in the dark, and Roy felt a touch on his arm. He turned towards it, and Scott's hands were on his shoulders pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around Scott tightly, consoling one another, but this time it was Scott crying on his shoulder.

Roy's back was to the door, so he didn't see the door open a crack, then close. Sharon wanted to check on the baby, of course. Scott released Roy, who dropped his arms until his hands caught Scott's. He gave them a light squeeze, then let go. Words were superfluous between friends; they both knew intimately what the other was feeling.

Together they went into the living room; Angie Cordoba had just arrived and was taking her coat off. She gave Roy a faint smile. "I guess I came back a little sooner than I said I would." She moved into the living room, greeting Louise. "I am so sorry for your loss, but I know that he's in a better place. We can be thankful that he's not hurting anymore."

After a few minutes of conversation with Sharon, Angie went to Del, and combed his hair again before she checked for a pulse and did a nervous system check. Roy and Scott took the boys into the kitchen ostensibly to get them brownies, but more to shield them a little from the stark necessities of death. Making a few marks in her patient clipboard, she began to remove the IV from the permanent shunt in his chest, then pack up the medications. Roy volunteered when Angie asked for assistance to help her take the stand to and the few other pieces of miscellaneous paraphernalia to her car. She came back in the house, and took her leave with warm embraces all around.

Everyone sat in the living room in silence, each alone with his or her thoughts. The boys were sitting close to Louise, seeking comfort by proximity. The tears had subsided, but all were deeply affected; each was reviewing their experience with Del. The doorbell rang, and Louise went to the door. A deputy from the sheriffs' office was on the doorstep.

"Evening Louise."

"Hey, Joe, come on in. what can I do for you?"

The deputy stepped into the foyer, hat in his hand. " I'm real sorry for your loss. Angie called, and gave me the official notification. This is just a regulation visit. Supposed to come out whenever someone dies at home, though everyone knew this was the way it was gonna be"

"Thanks, Joe. Come on in."

"The car from Schlitzbergers' will be here in a minute, so I won't be too long."

The arrival of the officer roused the group out of their stupor, as if they had been given permission to move around. Joe sat in a chair vacated for him, pulled a pen out of his clipboard, and asked the few redundant questions to satisfy the paper trail. It didn't take very long, and he accepted the offer of coffee while completing his task. They were still in the kitchen as the hearse from Schlitzbergers' Funeral Home arrived. It was an odd team. The hearse driver and his assistant were ill dressed, one a refugee from the Elvis 70's, and the other overweight and slightly greasy. Roy saw the pair from the kitchen, and stood close to keep an eye on them. It was obvious to him that Pseudo Elvis had a coke habit from the way he kept sniffing and rubbing his forefinger under his nose. Roy supposed that it *was* difficult to get hearse drivers. Neither of the two said very much, even the spokesman for the group 'Elvis'; they were a little nervous, and Roy got the feeling that they were anxious to escape the notice of Deputy Joe.

They carefully put Del's body on the gurney and covered him before pushing him through the living room. Dodging furniture and executing a slick turn to get through the front door, Roy followed the hearse driver and his helper outside. They managed to get Del off the porch and into the waiting vehicle without dumping him over and departed without much more fanfare.

He stood outside in the now nearly subzero air watching the tail-lights dip and swerve on the country road until they winked out of sight. The gaping hole in his heart left him empty and bleeding.

Roy called his father again that morning after a few, fitful hours of broken sleep. Most of the emotional content had been contained in the phone call from the night before, so today's conversation was short. He was numb and exhausted.

Scott hadn't fared much better than him; he had lain awake running through the inevitable checklist of life. They had talked a little back and forth while trying to sleep, but didn't want to waken John and Paul, who had taken the other two twin beds.

Neither of them had expected to require more than jeans and other casual clothes; Scott thought they would have time to procure something a little more suitable.

The mention of appropriate clothing made Louise think to check John's jacket-sure enough he had outgrown the sleeves beyond any letting them out. Unfortunately for Paul, the outgrown jacket fitted him. "If you're up to it, could you take John with you? He's old enough; he should dress up some. Paul can wear his cast-off, and there's no need for the little ones to dress up."

Roy looked up from the bowl of cereal he was just finishing. "Sounds like a plan to me, Louise. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, I don't think so. I imagine in a couple of hours the house is going to be busy, the neighbors will have heard by now, and there are some more phone calls to make."

Roy nodded, and went back to his cereal as Louise continued on with her task of getting the sick room equipment ready to be picked up. "I'm finished here, is there something I can help you with?"

"No, it's keeping me busy. You and Scott go on. It'll do John a world of good; I know he's been a bit lost for the last few months. I think he's going to hurt the worst of them all."

The drive to Katy Mills Mall was a grim, somber affair; the heavy gray clouds seemed to cling to the tops of the hills. No one felt much like talking, and the ninety minutes dragged. Shopping was an evil chore for Scott, but Roy knew it was the price to pay for looking sharp, so he had kamikaze buying honed to a fine art. Roy took John in hand in the store, and gave him a few tips while he chose a nice jacket, shirt and slacks for himself. He could probably have gotten away with a lesser purchase, but his reasoning was he could always use the addition to the wardrobe. The task was keeping him occupied, and he made an effort to cheer John.

"Okay John, let's get something for you." Roy had the salesman measure John, since he seemed uncertain about the adult sizes he might wear. After settling on a dark gray Italian suit and tie that happened to be almost the same as the jacket Roy had chosen, John started to backpedal on the selection.

"I don't know Uncle Roy. Maybe I should pick out another one instead."

"You picked out this one, was there another one you liked better?" Roy was a little confused by the change of heart.

"Yeah, I like it, but I'm not sure, I mean." John took a deep breath and sighed. "It's more than what Mom gave me to spend." He looked embarrassed by the admission.

Roy nodded sagely. "I see. What did Weezy think that a jacket and slacks were going to cost you?"

John was intently studying a flaw in the carpeting. "She gave me seventy dollars for a jacket."

"I guess Mom doesn't shop at the same places I do, huh." Roy smiled, and draped an arm over the boys' shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"I don't expect this was what she was thinking of, no." John looked up at Roy with a sad look. "Maybe we should go to the place we usually go shopping at."

"I have a better idea. You give the cashier fifty of that, and I'll pick up the rest. That way Mom is happy, and you get what you want, and twenty bucks to boot. How does that sound?"

John didn't say anything as he thought it over.

"Just consider it an early birthday present, okay? I'll take care of Mom if necessary." Roy didn't think it would be a problem. "You have a dress shirt and shoes at home?"

"Yeah. We had to have them for the holiday band concert for school."

"So, then you're set, right?" Roy gave him a quick squeeze around the shoulders and released him. Roy was trying to lighten the mood a little. "Let's go rescue Scott. I'm sure he's managed to get lost in the Bermuda shorts department."

They spotted Scott lingering over the sale table, and Roy shot a conspiratorial "what-did-I-tell-you?" look at John, who laughed.

Scott looked at Roy with a long-suffering look. "Oh fine, I suppose you're done shopping for both of you?"

Roy lifted the clothes hanging off of his arm, and gave a little shrug. "What can I say?"

"Don't say anything, just don't say a thing." Scott glowered at him, the dark eyes shaded by his wrinkled brow.

With an over-exaggerated politeness, Roy asked, "Would you like some help, Sir?"

"Yes, please. Help." Scott acquiesced immediately, he was truly grateful for the assistance as always.

Roy turned to the racks of suits in front of him, and began searching through the size tags. "You know Scott, for a gay guy, you really are missing the clothing gene." Roy said it teasingly, the way he did every time he got commandeered to pick out a suit for Scott.

John blushed furiously as if some light had just come on in his head, but said nothing. Scott caught his reaction, and sighed inwardly. If John hadn't known before, he did now. He supposed there would be questions; it had to happen eventually. Scott had taken no pains to hide his preferences, but neither did he flaunt them.

Still oblivious to the after-effects of his careless remark, Roy handed Scott three conservatively cut suits in dark shades. "Here. Try these on. I can assume you don't need my help there as well?"

Scott looked stricken. "No, I think I can manage that, thanks." He took the suits and escaped to the dressing room, leaving Roy to deal with the aftermath of his careless remarks.

Roy moved to the rows of neatly folded shirts, and chose two for Scott, depending on which suit he ended up with. John followed him, standing next to him fidgeting. "Uhm."

Roy looked up, and noticed the discomfort settling around John like a hair shirt. "What's the matter?"

John whispered. "Is Scott really gay?"

It finally dawned on Roy that he had just accidentally outed Scott to his nephew, and he mentally kicked himself. Not because it was a secret, but because he knew that Scott would rather have done it another way. "Yeah, he is, buddy."

"Does that mean you're gay too?" John was looking at him with an embarrassed look on his face.

"Ah, uh, no that does *not* mean I'm gay, too. Why?"

"You seem really close, and all."

"Scott's my best friend, and he was my friend before he realized he was gay. I just didn't think that was a good enough reason to stop being friends." What he didn't say was the length of time it had taken for him to be at ease with it.

John seemed to still be absorbing the concept when Scott returned. "I like them all. I still want to know how you do that, Roy. I would have never picked these out." Scott caught Roy's eye, and gave him a stern look that had nothing to do with the suits.

Roy saw it and shook his head. "Sure you would have, eventually. But you would have been so pissed off by the time you finally got to them that you would've hated them, no matter what."

"I suppose that's true." As Scott replied, Roy mouthed the words 'I am so sorry'.

Scott gave him a nonchalant shrug in return, "So, are we done here?"

"Uh, wait-here; I think this shirt." He returned the other shirt to the display. "Okay, now we're ready. I need some shoes to go with this, how abut you?"

"Unless you want me to wear my boots?"

"You *are* in Texas, Scott. It's considered de riguer in some circles, but in this case let's not push our luck."

"So, how about we manage some lunch first?" Scott turned to John, who was watching them intently. "Are you hungry?"

John nodded vigorously. "Yeah, can we have burgers?"

Roy agreed. "I think that sounds good."

Scott took charge again. "Let's get out and go find a burger."

John was pensive during lunch, and spoke little as he devoured the double with fries. Scott and Roy were quiet, as they recalled the purpose for the trip. As he finished the meal, Roy remembered he needed to call Louise. He wiped his hands and mouth as he dialed the number on his cell phone.

"Hey, Weezy, it's me. Yeah. Already? What time? Uh huh." He glanced at his watch. "We should be there in a few hours. See ya." He ended the call and laid the phone down on the table. "The viewing is tomorrow night at seven."

Scott leaned back in the banquette and stretched. "Maybe we can get a little rest tonight."

"I know I need it. We should go."

A quick stop was made for shoes, and then they drove back in the heavier afternoon traffic on I-10 going west. The sun had elected to make an appearance for the day, as it glared balefully in and out of the clouds. Roy drove, John sat up front with him, and Scott stretched out across the back of the car and napped on the way back.

"Did it ever bother you that Scott is gay?"

Roy skirted the issue a little. "None of my fears ever amounted to anything except that, just fears."

"So, you didn't think that he wanted you for a boyfriend or anything?"

Roy chuckled at that, and glanced in the rearview mirror to check and see if Scott was awake. He looked asleep. "Well, I think that he keeps hoping that, yes. But it's like having a friend that's a girl-you think there might be a possibility that somewhere down the line that you'll jump in the sack together, but you'd rather just stay friends."

"Really? And that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, it's really okay. We joke about it, but I think we respect each others boundaries."

"How, what do you mean by that?"

Roy glanced over at John, it seemed there was more to this than just Scott, but he wasn't going to pry. "He doesn't bitch too much about the women I see, and I don't make any jealous scenes over his boyfriends." John was looking at him, jaw agape. "Uh, that was a joke. Really, it just means that when you have a friend, you just give them room to be themselves, that's all."

John let the conversation die off, though it was apparent that he continued to think about the subject.

The viewing was a quiet affair. A steady stream of people came in, paid their respects, and left. Del had been a well-liked member of the community, and he had made his mark here in the last ten years. Louise knew most of the visitors, and spent the time introducing Sharon and the baby, until Adelaide grew unhappy, and was making sure everyone knew it.

Roy felt like unnecessary baggage. He had chatted with the few people he knew from past visits, but they were in short supply. Scott was even more the fifth wheel, as he knew virtually no one but Angie Cordoba, and she had left after about a half-hour.

"Roy-I'm going to kidnap that baby and go back to the house. She and I are equally useful here."

"I'll go with you. Ask Louise if we should take the boys with us, too."

Louise agreed that the two little ones should go, and Sharon gratefully turned over Adelaide to Scott. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Any time, I know you want to be here, but she doesn't."

The rest of the evening was spent catering to the children, watching videos and snacking on the abundance of food that had been brought to the house. Once the boys and Adelaide had fallen asleep, Roy and Scott were left alone in the living room, television still on but the sound had been muted.

"It all seems unreal. I can't believe that yesterday in this time, we were sitting here talking, Del was here and even sick he had a presence here. Now, today there is just this big gaping hole."

Scott wiped his eyes with his hands. "He did cut a pretty big swath through our lives, and now it's just empty."

"It's just too strange, it's like some part of the foundation was pulled out from under a house, and though its still standing, nothing is the same."

"That's an interesting analogy. It is all out of kilter, isn't it?"

Roy shook his head. He'd managed to escape the house for most of yesterday, and today he had been busy making plans and answering the telephone. But now, here in the quiet, with the old familiar grandfather clock ticking away, it was empty and forlorn in a way, despite Scott's company. He felt like time had paused.

Scott reached across the back of the couch, and squeezed the back of Roy's hand; Roy gave Scott a sad smile of thanks.

The morning was spent in answering the telephone, accepting flowers and food from neighbors who stopped in to help and offer their condolences. The mood was tentative, as if the day should have been spent wailing and tearing out their hair.

Louise had asked Roy and Scott if they wanted to stand up and say a few words at the service. After agreeing, Roy had spent the day jotting down stray thoughts and looking through some books; Scott composed in his head, as he got dressed for the funeral.

John appeared before Roy in his new suit, shoes polished and tie undone. "I never had a tie I couldn't just snap on before, would you tie it for me?"

"Sure, I'll be glad to. Here, turn around." Roy positioned John in front of the mirror and reached around him and showed him a proper double Windsor knot. "Now, don't just keep it tied that way, it'll ruin the tie. When you take it off, pull the knot out this way." He slid it apart easily, and then guided John while he tied his own knot. "That looks great, buddy. You look great." He looked at his nephew in the mirror; John looked like his mother and Del, with their aquiline nose and a slight fold across the eye.

"Thanks, Uncle Roy, I do like the suit. It's very sharp. I'm glad you went instead of Mom."

"If the budget she gave you was any indication, I am too." He smiled at John. "Go show off your new threads, man. Be proud."

John left the room at a slightly undignified pace, and Roy finished his own tie as he silently rehearsed.

The large church was filling up fast, and soon it was standing room only. The lowering afternoon sun shone through the stained glass; a few larger wreaths stood on either side of the casket, and more flowers were scattered around the church.

Roy was standing on the side of the room near the front watching the people filing in and talking quietly as they waited for the service to begin, when his father entered the church and stood at the door, looking around the room. Roy couldn't believe it. He quickly walked towards him; his father spotted him and met him half way. Roy hugged him, and was held as tightly by his dad as he could ever want to be held.

"My god, Dad, why didn't you tell me? Man, am I glad to see you!"

"I'm glad to see you too, son. I've really missed you. Your mother wanted me to give you this." David hugged his son again, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "She wanted to come too, but just couldn't get free."

His mother and Sharon had gotten along like cats and water; and he wasn't at all surprised that she'd had other more pressing concerns. "It's okay, Dad, you don't have to explain. I've missed you too, Dad, I really have. Thank you, this means a lot to me."

"I didn't know if I was going to be able to get away, but I managed to head off one more collagen implant, and got on a plane this morning."

Roy led his father down the aisle to the seats reserved for the family. "It's really overwhelming, all of it." They sat at the end of the pew, and continued to talk. "Scott's in the back, you'd never believe it, but I think he's fallen for a girl."

A look of total shock fell across David's face. "You're kidding me!"

"Nope, but she's only two weeks old— Sharon's new baby, Adelaide. He picks her up every chance he can."

David laughed quietly; he wasn't sure if he was more surprised that Sharon had a baby, or that the baby had smitten Scott. "No, you're right— I would never have believed it. So, how are you holding up?"

"Shaky. One minute I'm fine, the next I want to break out in tears. I'm not sure if I am going to survive this, it's so hard to grasp all of it happening at the same time."

"I understand, son, I really do. Even though it's a lot to deal with you will carry through."

"Thanks, Dad."

There was a motion at the door, and Roy saw it. "I think they're calling me."

"All right son, I'll be here."

He gave his father another quick hug. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Roy."

Roy let go and went to the door that led to the rectory, where Del's immediate family had been waiting in the quiet until it was time for the service. He found Scott.

"My dad is out there, he came for the funeral."

"No shit! That's a nice surprise."

"Yeah it is."

The minister chose that moment to speak. He was a middle-aged man, with a graying beard and glasses. "I think that we should probably go ahead and start, if you would all go ahead and take a seat."

They filed out, and took their place in the pews; Louise and Sharon both greeted David as they sat down. They were all in place as the minister began his short sermon with a prayer and a few words of religious comfort. He finished, saying "Family and friends are that which binds us together, and gives us our joy on this earth, and now I leave you with those who knew Delbert Cullen best to share their thoughts with you."

Old friends and former co-workers each took a short turn, sharing some moment of laughter or pleasure they had shared with Del, or the honor and forthrightness in the way he had dealt with problems or tribulations. Soon, it was their turn, and Scott went ahead of Roy.

"As a very young man on the precipice of life, I had the good fortune to have been given the opportunity of being guided by Del Cullen. Among the lessons he taught me were how to win, how to lose, and all the gradients in between-it wasn't the game itself, but rather how you played it. Sportsmanship, courage, honesty, and if you did your best, then you could never be ashamed of the final result. Because of him, I learned my own self worth. The differences in us were to be celebrated— not stuffed into a closet. I've taken all of this advice with me through life thus far; and so I know that Del will be with me everyday of the rest of my life as well, for he left with me a piece of his heart."

Scott managed to get through with only tears running down his face, he had not taken a handkerchief or tissue with him. Roy had managed to maintain tight control through the testimonials, though most of the entire room was devastated by the time Scott finished.

Roy took as insurance the Kleenex that been handed to him as he rose to speak. Sharon and Louise had both declined to speak publicly about their father, as it would be too difficult, so Roy had the distinction of being last. He was nervous and sweating underneath his crisp, new shirt. His voice started off with a tremble.

"I too, had the honor and pleasure of being a young man under the tutelage of Del Cullen, and learning from him those things that made my life worth living: honor, respect, love. I had the privilege of truly becoming a part of his family, a bond that had no limits, as I am still learning today. I am grateful to Del for showing me how to love my own family and father, who joined me here today.

"When I was asked this morning to speak, I couldn't put into words what I was feeling, until I realized that the words I wanted had been written by Samuel Clemmons on the death of his daughter Jean." Roy unfolded a scrap of paper onto which he had copied a passage.

"'Has any one ever tried to put upon paper all the little happenings connected with a dear one — happenings of the twenty-four hours preceding the sudden and unexpected death of that dear one? Would a book contain them? Would two books contain them? I think not. They pour into the mind in a flood. They are little things that have been always happening every day, and were always so unimportant and easily forgettable before — but now! Now, how different! How precious they are, now dear, how unforgettable, how pathetic, how sacred, how clothed with dignity!'

Roy put the paper down, and looked out over the large gathering. He looked at his father and Scott, seated next to Sharon, and Louise with all the boys; and he felt a wave of warm emotion sweep over him. It was true; they were all really family in some way or another. "Thank you for letting me share that last day with him, and you. I was powerfully reminded that I had let circumstances interfere with the time I was able to spend with my father-in-law. I relearned the importance of family the last two days of his life. Even to the very end, he was concerned with the welfare of his family and those of us he considered his children. The legacy he created will live on as long as we remember him."

Del was to be cremated, so the minister concluded the service, and all were invited to pay their last respects to Del as they left the church, and to come to the house after the service if they wished. David briefly passed the casket, and offered his condolences before stepping into the fading light of the cold afternoon.

Small groups of people lingered outside the church and chatted. David waited outside for a moment, and Roy and Scott joined him. John was not far behind.

"David, it's good to see you." Scott gave him a warm hug.

"And you, too. I'm sorry the reason we got together was a funeral, but it is good to see you." He turned to Roy's shadow. "John I wouldn't have known who you were, if Scott hadn't told me. You have turned into a fine young man."

"Thanks, Uncle David. Roy helped me pick out the clothes yesterday."

"It's very nice, you two did a good job." He smiled at John; he'd thought he recognized his sons' influence.

John smiled a little shyly at David; they'd had few opportunities to meet in John's short life.

"Where are you staying tonight Dad?" Roy was anxious to spend a few hours with his father; it had been too long since their last visit.

"I have a room in Houston. I have a flight first thing in the morning, and I didn't want to make the drive at three am."

The funeral had marked an end to the reason for their visit, and it was a disconcerting feeling, as if time had suddenly resumed. "I guess we need to think about when we're going to go, too." Roy sounded reluctant to make the transition into real life.

Scott was equally disinclined, though he knew his patients were missing him. "We should probably stay at least until tomorrow, see if Louise needs anything done."

Sharon joined them on the steps to the church, and gave David a quick hug. "David, thank you for coming, it means a lot to us." Adelaide was still asleep in the little plastic carrier.

Her former father in law returned the gesture. "You're welcome, it was the least I could do. So is this the girl that has stolen Scott's heart?"

Scott grinned at Roy, with a look that said 'I am so going to kill you'.

"This is my daughter, Adelaide." Sharon lifted the bassinet a little higher, and pulled aside the flannel blanket so he could get a better look.

"Beautiful little girl, just like her mother." David smiled at her, and she smiled back. "How have you been?" He had always liked Sharon, which was probably why she and Allison hadn't gotten along very well.

"It's been a really difficult year for us all, but I am thankful for the gifts we've received as well."

The small group stood in silence for a moment; the truth in it was self-evident and needed no corroboration.

David turned to Roy. "That was a wonderful eulogy, Roy. Thank you for the mention."

Roy colored slightly, it had been difficult to stand and speak in front of a room full of mostly strangers, but once he had begun, it had been strangely cathartic. "You're welcome, Dad— I meant it."

Roy's father embraced his son, "I know you did."

Louise finally came out of the church, and they enlarged their circle to make room for her and the other boys. "It's too cold to stand out here, come join us at the house, David, and we'll all get a chance to catch up some."

The house was already in commotion. Some kind friends had come back early to set up an informal buffet line, and others were taking coats and greeting guests as they came to the door. It was warm; the flow and mingle of people talking, drinking and nibbling made the large room feel welcoming again. Roy got a drink for himself and his father and found a quiet corner to sit and visit. Scott was carrying Adelaide around like she was his own, and visiting with the neighbors. John had taken off his suit and returned to blue jeans and a sweater.

Roy looked up when John sat next to him. "Hey, kiddo. Did you get something to eat?"

"No, I'm not very hungry." The truth was that very little of what was on the table looked very appealing to his particular tastes.

"So, John, what are you into these days?" David took a bite of his sandwich at looked the teenager.

"I uh, I play the trumpet in band, and I suppose I'll play baseball again this year. I moved into the pony league last year." He was proud of the accomplishment.

"What position do you play?"

"Catcher, mostly. Though I was a relief pitcher last year, that was fun."

"Roy was first base when he played. He gave it up for sailing though. I guess you don't have very much of that around here."

"Nah. There's a lake that we go fishing on though."

Scott had relinquished the baby and joined them. "Fishing, the sport of lying."

Roy snorted. "Only because you never caught anything."

"Hey, I got a fish once!"

"Only hearsay. I had to cut it loose before we ever saw it. I bet it was a tire."

Scott dismissed that with a wave. "So John, what's the biggest fish you ever caught?"

"The large mouth bass over the fireplace, twelve pounds. My dad took me to the Ozarks' a couple of summers ago."

They all admired the fish, and congratulated him on the accomplishment.

Roy was curious, but the subject hadn't come up, and he wasn't sure how to broach it. "Do you see your dad very much these days?"

"He's been in Saudi Arabia on some drilling rig for the last year, said he was going to be there another eighteen months or so."

"Are you going to go and visit him there?"

"Mmm, don't think so. We hadn't talked about it."

"That's too bad; it would be interesting, I think. Maybe you could come out to California instead." Roy wasn't sure what had possessed him to make the offer, but he didn't regret the idea once he rolled it around in his head a little. Scott and David looked a little surprised.

"God, that would be great, Uncle Roy!" John looked excited by the idea. 'But, I'll have to ask Mom, she'll probably need me around here, though."

"Okay, we'll do that." Roy smiled at the light that had returned to John's eyes, and it made him glad that he had put it there.

Paul came over to the group, and told John that he was wanted in the old ladies circle where Louise was sitting. They chatted with Paul for a minute, before he got antsy and went to join the other children that were playing video games in the den.

"That was unexpected." David said casually.

"It was, surprised even myself." Roy sipped the drink in his hand, and looked up at his father. This weekend had pointedly illustrated to him the satisfaction in having children, and it had given him a new perspective on his own father.

"Could be fun, I hope he does." Scott saw the look that passed between them; he remember the oft-thought wish as a teenager that David had been his own father, but Del had more than made up for the lack at the time. A deep wave of grief washed over him, and he blinked away the tears that seeped into his eyes.

The evening wore on, and Roy reluctantly let his father go after he had visited with Louise and Sharon. Their history with David was long and warm, and had been nearly split asunder with Sharon and Roy's divorce, but they were all glad to find that it was only in a minor state of disrepair. Light promises to stay in touch and send baby pictures were made as David Altenloh took his leave.

Roy walked his father to the car. "I can't tell you what a weird day this has been. It's like all of us are walking around this huge crater that Del left, and no one is saying anything about it."

"Roy, you've got to understand. The only one surprised by his death is you; they've had months to deal with it. I know they are hurting, but there's a measure of relief that he's out of suffering. It can't have been easy for them."

"I understand that on one level, but the visceral part of me wants to scream and break something."

"It's hard, losing a friend like that. Especially one you idolized so much. The pain lessens over time, and you get over feeling abandoned. A little anyway."

"Do you still miss your father?" Roy's grandfather had died while Roy was very young, and was a vague misty memory.

"Every day I'll think of something, and say to myself, oh he'd like that. And it hurts to know that I can't share it with him. Maybe someday I'll have that chance again."

"Let's just hope it's a very long time from now, okay?" Roy gave his father a last hug. "I love you dad, I'm really glad to see you."

David laughed quietly. "I love you too, son. You've said that every thirty minutes all day. Maybe you should consider coming to visit more regularly?"

"I'll do that."

"Take care and call me when you get home."

"Bye, Dad."

"Bye Roy."

The fading tail-lights in the sharp night was too reminiscent of another set he had watched disappear. Roy stood under the stars in the clear night air, and cried until his heart was empty.

"Damn, you look like hell." Scott had been worried about Roy; he was now alarmed outright by his appearance.

Roy waved him into the dark apartment and padded over to the couch, pulling the blanket aside as he sat in the corner, and made room for Scott to sit down. The television was on, though the sound was turned down, apparently Roy had been asleep.

"So what brings you all the way out to the island?" Roy rubbed his face then energetically scratched his scalp until the short dark hair stood up in wild spikes.

"I'm worried about you. You've deflected me the last three weekends, I hadn't heard from you at all this week, and so I came out to see you. Maybe talk you into dinner and a moonlight sail."

"That's sounds good. It is a full moon tonight, isn't it?"

"Technically? It was last night, but it should still be great sailing."

"Huh. Why don't we pick up some sandwiches and just go?"

"That sounds good. I'll run by Neptune's and pick up some subs and stuff while you have a chance to wakeup."

"Nah, just give me a sec, I'll go with you." Roy went into the bedroom, threw on jeans and a sweatshirt, and pulled his foul weather jacket out of the closet, as he slipped into his deck shoes. "Okay, let's go."

Scott stood by the door as Roy locked it, then they walked to the parking lot where Scott had double-parked his Jaguar.

Roy paused by the low-slung car. "I should drive my car over-that way you won't have to trek back over the bridge to bring me home."

"Jump in, and don't worry about it. I want to. Let's take the top down, turn up the radio, and worry later." They climbed into the car as the top retracted into the back; Roy began to sort through the CD's in the folder Scott kept in the car. He picked out an old favorite of both of theirs and slid it in the player. After the sandwich shop, and a quick beer stop, they were headed back over the bridge to the mainland and the Marina in the light inbound Friday traffic.

Seabird was quickly prepared for sailing, and they shoved off, motoring quietly toward the channel before raising sails.

The conversation until now had been aimless, and as the black water lapped against the hull in the preternatural quiet, they spoke not at all. Sails were raised and adjusted with wordless teamwork. The moon rose behind them and the pale, cool light reflected off the white sails and cast gray shadows. The moonlight on Roys' face highlighted the tired look around his eyes.

Roy reached into the cabin, bringing up the bag from Neptune's, and the little cooler of beer. He retrieved Scott's sandwich and partially opened it before handing it to him. He slowly ate a few bites of his own, before putting it back into the bag, barely touched.

Scott's heart fell as he watched this. As a professional he knew that Roy needed to talk, but as his friend he had been willing to let Roy go his own way to a certain extent. It was obvious now that action was required.

They sailed on the moon-glittered dark water; the current tack had them following the moons' wake toward the harbor. A few blanched clouds that scudded across the chilly orb dimmed the night and personified their somber mood.

The late excursion in the night had been subdued, as neither one had wanted to sully the lunar spell with conversation. They decided to forgo the motor on returning to the slip-the wind had died almost completely and the boat was docked under sail with just a word here and there.

The drive to Roy's apartment seemed to lift the enchantment. Scott had devised an easily implemented plan in the last hour.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Scott glanced over at Roy, the streetlights illuminating his face in strobe-like flashes as they passed through the pools flooding the streets

"Uh, not really. Maybe go to the office. I hadn't thought about it." Roy had just been getting through each day, without thinking of the next.

"Let's start that varnishing project. The weather looks like it's going to hold up. We can strip it off tomorrow and maybe get the first coat on." Scott had felt abandoned while Roy had cocooned himself in sorrow; he needed to break through and bring his friend back into the light.

"Sure. Sounds fine. I've had to work the last three weekends to catch up, I need to get out of there."

Scott didn't need to ask if Roy had been sleeping, the strain of insomnia was written all over Roy. "Work is good, but it's not the perfect panacea. Why don't you spend tomorrow night at the house? I'll cook and we can catch up."

Roy gave a soft, growly chuckle at that. "You are so transparent."

"I'm worried about you. You look like hell, not eating, and you're throwing yourself into work to avoid things. Denial is a valid stage of grief Roy, but I think you need some help, that's all. I want to help."

Roy mouth was set in a taut line as he stared out the car window at the familiar scenery obscured by the glimmer of welling tears. He cleared his throat. "All right, it sounds like a plan."

It seemed like he hadn't slept but an hour or two when the doorbell rang. Roy opened the door, and squinted at the large bulky figure looming in the bright sunlight. "This is getting to be a habit, you waking me up."

"Time to rise and shine, old pal of mine-daylight's a-wasting." Scott boomed loudly, as he strode into the apartment. "Grab your bag and let's boogie."

"You are so annoying in the morning. Just stop being so.... *perky*, dammit."

"I like to think it's one of my best features. Go, get your stuff, and I'll make some coffee." Scott left Roy standing in the living room, and headed toward the small compact kitchen.

"I'm going to take a shower, help yourself."

"I always do!"

Roy disappeared into the bath and Scott scrounged through the refrigerator and came up with the makings of an adequate, if modest breakfast. The last of the bread and eggs went into making Egyptian egg sandwiches, and with a bit of orange juice and coffee, it would be fine.

The smell of food met Roy as he emerged from his brief shower, and he realized he was *hungry* this morning. He threw on his jeans and a T-shirt and was met at the kitchen door with a cup of coffee. "Hey, smells good, thanks." He smiled at Scott, a little slyly. "You'll make someone a wonderful wife, someday."

Scott laughed. "No, I'm always the bridesmaid, never the bride. And I look terrible in white lace."

Roy glanced up from his coffee. "Yeah I noticed."

Chuckling together over the old joke, they sat at the table with the quick sturdy breakfast. "I already had the varnish and stuff, so it's all in the truck. I figure we'll go together, and then I'll bring you back home tomorrow night."

"You know, I *can* drive." Roy remarked dryly.

'I know, but I just feel like it." Scott replied lightly.

"You mean you don't want me escaping."

"If I didn't want you escaping, I'd use rope. Coupla good bowlines, about a three foot leash, yep that would be just about perfect." He turned serious, his dark eyes holding Roy firm. "Look, I need to do this, just let me, okay?"

Roy's eyes flickered down and away, but he agreed. "Okay." He finished the eggs and toast and drank down the orange juice, then rinsed his dishes and stashed them in the dishwasher. "I'll get my bag."

The sun was high and hot. Roy was covered in dust, wearing a filter mask as he ran the orbital sander over the bare wood to remove the last of the stripper in preparation for the new coat of varnish. His hands were numb and sore from the vibration of the sander, and the monotonous work had allowed his mind a little space to breathe. Scott was amidships sanding the rails too small for the sander with small strips of sandpaper.

The early dusk of winter only let them get so far, but the next day would begin with applying the varnish in thin coats. The freshly cleaned wood was smooth and golden next to the white fiberglass, and they were satisfied with the results of the hard days' work as they sat drinking the last beer.

The marina had been busy all day, a late January Saturday with perfect California winter weather. The neighbors that had gone sailing early in the day returned, raucous and laughing. They hollered back and forth over the finger pier between them. An invitation to join them for dinner was offered, but both feeling filthy and tired, they declined with the request for a rain check on another weekend. Scott didn't particularly want to share at the moment, and Roy had taken Scott's lead, since he had already promised to have dinner with him tonight.

"I can't believe you wanted to chauffeur me around all weekend."

"It's not that far, shut up and enjoy it for a change."

"Aye, aye Captain Ahab."

The very expensive condo Scott had bought a few years back for the tax break was in a fashionable part of town only a few miles from the marina. It was, of course, too large for a single person, but Scott didn't care, he liked the location and the neighbors weren't nosy.

Roy had taken over the guestroom; he was basically the only one that used it anyway. A shower and shave later, he felt much better, though tired from too little sleep, and the day's labor. It felt normal this fatigue, not enervation.

He left the bedroom dressed down for comfort. The open style kitchen was empty; Scott must still be in the shower. Peering into the full refrigerator, he couldn't tell what was on the menu, so he fixed drinks and knocked on Scott's door. "Hey you decent in there?"

"Yeah, come on in."

Roy handed Scott the drink, then sat in the recliner. "I thought this might be in order."

"Yeah, thanks." Scott took a deep drink as he stretched his legs across the bed, leaning against the headboard.

"I looked in the fridge. It looks like you are planning to feed the local football team. What did you have planned for dinner?"

"Comfort food-how does lasagna and Chianti sound?"

"Great, I think I'm famished."

"I am honestly glad to hear that. Shall we repair to the kitchen?"

The lasagna was ready to cook, and the luscious warm smell of baking cheese filled the kitchen as Scott prepared garlic bread and a salad. Roy poured the wine and pulled plates and silver from the cabinets.

"So, Scott, who did you con into making that lasagna for you? Stouffers?"

"Not a chance, buddy. You think I would allow something so bourgeois into my kitchen?" Scott pretended to be miffed, but he was glad for the company, and especially glad that Roy seemed more like himself. He handed Roy a plate piled with steaming lasagna. "Here, eat and weep, my friend."

They fell upon the meal, dispatching it efficiently until only the barest remains were left.

"Did I mention you were going to make someone a great little wife?" Roy said it casually as he drained the glass of Chianti.

Scoot looked at him sourly. "Oh one or two *hundred* times. Makes me think you're volunteering..."

Roy laughed. "No way, uhm I mean I love you, I just don't *love* you."

"You'll never know what you're missing...." Scott sighed with a mostly mock wistfulness.

"I think I've heard that a few hundred times, too."

"So, we're like even, then." Scott said the line in perfect Valley-Girl.

"Yeah, I think we're even." Roy grinned, Scott always knew when to make him laugh

"Okay then. Change of topic. Were you serious about having John come out to visit this summer, or was it a blow off?"

"I certainly meant it at the time, though I hadn't thought about it since then. Why?"

"I think it would be a very good idea, for so very many reasons, and I'd be interested in participating if you wanted to pursue it with Louise. Make the arrangements now, before summer gets here. We'll have lots of time to make plans and get things together."

"Shouldn't we have some sort of plan before we invite him? I mean, what if we invite him and then we can't find anything to do?"

"Nothing to do in San Diego in the summer? Surely you jest."

"I guess we could do all the tourist traps, Seaworld, and the zoo. He would probably like to go to a Padres game, too."

"Not to mention sailing, going to movies, maybe a trip to Disney Land, and the tourist traps in L.A. like the La Brea tar pits and Hollywood and Vine."

Roy made a rude noise at that last. "Oh right! That would be sure to make Louise send out the Morality Police."

Scott laughed out loud and refilled their glasses with the last of the bottle. "If it was anyone but Louise, I'd have to agree with you."

"She is certainly not anything like Sharon." Roy considered his ex-wife and her sister. "You know, I thought Del was trying to fix me up with Louise when you went off to pick up Sharon, but I asked him if that was what he meant, and he said no."

Scott rolled his wine around in the glass and said nothing for a moment, while Roy appeared to be equally engrossed in his glass. "We haven't talked much. I've been worried about you these last few weeks or so. You've been withdrawn, and from what I saw on Friday night, not eating or sleeping very well."

"I just. Uh I mean, it's partly work, you know? I had to fight my way back onto the new project, and I've been working horrendous hours."

"Are you working those hours to avoid having to be home alone? So you don't have to think about it?"

"Ahm, some. I just, well, dammit— I don't have anything to look forward to when I get home. It's not that I went over to Laurie's all that much; she was a worse workaholic than I am. But I always knew I *could* if I wanted to. Then Del dying right on the heels of that, and seeing Sharon again, with infant in tow. It's like I have too much, you know? I just want to stop thinking, I don't want to find out that I've just been a waste all these years."

Scott set his glass down and stirred a lonely scrap of lettuce in its puddle of dressing, before he looked up at Roy. "You are not a waste. I have done nothing but think." He paused as he gathered the words and courage together. "I can't get over you. I have tried for nearly twenty years; every man I meet gets compared to you, then fails the test." It had been many years since the last conversation like this, and he held his breath slightly as he waited for Roy's reaction.

Roy leaned back in his chair and grabbed another bottle of wine. He opened it and poured each of them another full glass, while he crafted a considered reply. "Damn it, Scott. You think I don't see that? I try to give you what I can, but..." Roy gave Scott a hopeless shrug.

"But isn't that the problem? You just only let things go so far, and then shut them down. It was the same with Sharon and Laurie. Maybe you trying to maintain that balance with me is what caused those relationships to fail—there's a brick wall you barricade yourself behind out of fear. I'm here for you, and I am never going to hurt you, or ask you go any place you don't want to go. Roy, please don't shut me out, I need you more than ever."

Roy's face was in his hands, elbows propped on the table. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, then relaxed back into his chair and gave Scott a wry grimace. "I can't say that I ever blamed you for those failures, Scott. I managed those on my own." He stopped while he struggled to find the words to say exactly what he meant, and he realized that some of what Scott had said was true, there was a part of him that did belong to Scott. "You know that I love you, but I'm not in love with you. Scott, I just don't see myself that way."

Scott reached over and took Roy's hand. "I'm not asking you to change, I just don't want to find that I've been left behind when you decide what to do with your life-I want to be part of it, although I can't ever stop hoping you *will* change your mind."

Roy gave the hand in his grasp a reassuring squeeze as he considered what Scott had said, and he didn't think what he was asking was too much. "What did I do to deserve a friend like you?"

"You're just lucky that way." Scott gave his old friend a reassuring smile, and began to clear the table in a time worn comforting routine.

Finis

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