Date: Mon, 21 Nov 2005 02:11:38 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: all-my-tomorrows-8

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


                            "ALL MY TOMORROWS"

                         Copyright Ritchris 2005

                      sequel to "As I Remember Him"

                               A story by

			    Ritch Christopher

                                <><><><><>

                               CHAPTER EIGHT


<><><><><><><><>

	Following the confrontation with Jerry, David went into his bedroom
and cried himself to sleep, but Jerry didn't get much sleep that night. He
kept asking himself over and over, 'Why in the name of sanity did I act the
way I did? Was I jealous? Why should I get upset if David and Richard
wanted to have sex? It IS in their nature, but not mine! Maybe sex is what
David needed and Richard was just there to supply David's need!'

	Granted, Jerry had held David in bed on two occasions, but just to
'hold' him. There was nothing wrong or unmanly about that. David had made
no attempt to instigate sex between Jerry and himself. There had been no
touching, no feeling, or kissing. Apparently David and Richard had done
nothing more than masturbate and, let's face it, Jerry was guilty of that
action nightly...usually while fantasizing about Jenny's big tits. Jerry
had seen Jenny in a bathing suit one day at the River Oaks Country
Club. She had long, perfectly shaped legs, but she didn't bother to wax or
shave the tiny pubic hairs stretching from the crotch of her swim
suit. Jerry must have been at least fifteen feet away from her, but his
eyes were drawn to her scantily clad vaginal area and he had experienced an
instant erection.

	Jerry was filled with envy and anger when he learned that David had
been inside Jenny, but hadn't been satisfied with the very thing Jerry
wanted most. NO! David had suddenly decided he liked dicks better than
Jenny's pussy. 'God! How stupid WAS David? No wonder gays were called
"queer"!'

	However, since Jerry's outburst at Richard and David, Jerry
discovered he felt too guilty to become aroused later that night after he'd
gone to bed. Was it because he had interrupted David and Richard or was it
because Jenny had practically given Jerry the 'big turn-off'? Jerry had
never gotten a chance to say the things he wanted to tell Jenny. He
remembered during their earlier telephone conversation, he and Jenny made
an agreement that neither would discuss David...or even mention his
name...BUT DAVID had been almost the only subject of their entire chat on
the porch.

	Now with David planning to move out to God knows where the next
morning, there would never be a reason for Jenny to ever visit Jerry's
house. Jerry decided he must be a bigger idiot than David. He had really
fucked up. He began to wonder just how big a man he really was. Could he
ask David and Richard to forgive him? Did Jerry have the balls to ask
Richard to come back and continue his nightly shifts with David? Then, too,
if David REALLY wanted to have sex with Richard, then he shouldn't have any
desire left to be with Jenny, should he?

	Jerry leaned over to his bedside table to see his digital clock
reading 2:47AM. He reached to the floor to get his white Hanes briefs and
socks and put them on. He wanted to check on David, but he would not go
into David's room in the nude. Then he walked down the hall and heard the
sound of David's television and tapped on the door before opening it.

	"David?"

	There was no reply.

	"David?"

	"What do you want?"

	"Can I come in...?"

	"Are you carrying your gun?"

	"No...why should I?"

	"I...I just wanted you to feel safe if I said it was all right to
enter. I...I wouldn't want to make the wrong move and get shot if you
thought I was trying to molest you!"

	"NO, I DON'T HAVE MY GUN! I...I don't need that with me to
apologize."

	"Is that the reason you came to see me?"

	"Actually, yes."

	"Then come on in...but, DON'T try to apologize. I...I'm not in the
mood to forgive you."

	Jerry tried to open the door but it was locked. Realizing this,
David got out of bed naked, but grabbed a pillow to cover his genitals
while he unlocked the door. David backed up to get into bed to hid his
nudity when Jerry entered.

	"What are you watching?" Jerry asked, giving a slight glance at the
TV.

	"You'd better not look. It's the LOGO channel."

	"LOGO channel? I never heard of it. What is it?"

	"It's the gay and lesbian channel on cable. I came across it one
night this week while I was channel surfing."

	"There's a gay and lesbian channel on Comcast Cable...here in River
Oaks?"

	"Does that shock you?"

	"Shock? No...but I AM surprised. Is it gay porn?"

	"No, simulated, but it's mostly PG-13 gay movies, comics, and soap
operas. It even has CBS gay news."

	"You're kidding?"

	"No, gays DO have a few things in the world strictly for them. You
know, there's a BET channel for African-Americans, and a few Latino
channels, plus a new AZN channel for Orientals. Of course, there's Fox News
for George Bush ass-lickers! Why shouldn't cocksuckers and cuntlappers have
at least ONE channel out of five hundred?"

	"I'm sorry, David. I didn't mean to sound so judgmental."

	"If you like, Jerry, I can turn it off...IF it's going to offend
you!"

	"No...it's just that I...I couldn't sleep and I thought I'd look in
on you and see if you were all right."

	"I...I've already packed my three suitcases, so I can leave ASAP in
the morning."

	"Any idea where you're going?"

	"I'll leave that up to Luke's lawyer. I'll see where he wants to
house me."

	"You know you have Luke's lawyer over a barrel. He's ready for the
loony bin."

	"How so?"

	"George is scared shitless you're gonna sue Luke's estate for a
couple of million."

	"That hadn't really occurred to me. I couldn't do that to Luke's
memory anyway."

	"It'd be a lot better if you got it. Otherwise the state of
Virginia could step in and take over all of Luke's unclaimed assets."

	"I could never do that!"

	"You don't have to...just make George believe you're GOING to."

	"That's underhanded. I'm too honest to scheme and connive for ANY
amount of money."

	"That's your problem, David. You're too fucking honest for your own
good. You're the only person I know who doesn't know how to lie."

	"Why should I start now?"

	"I hope you won't be offended, but your honesty is what got you
kicked out of your dad's house."

	"And was it my honesty that got me kicked out of YOUR house?"

	"I didn't kick you out. I...I asked Richard to leave...not you."

	"Jerry, for over a week, Richard has been my right arm. Kicking him
out was like kicking a part of me out!"

	"OK! So, I'll ask Richard to come back. I...I don't want to be the
cause of any more grief or trouble for you."

	"Jesus Christ, Jerry! Richard and I jerked off! What was the big
deal? Didn't you ever jerk off with a friend when you were a teenager?"

	"Actually, no..."

	"Being honest, neither did I! I guess I was just doing with Richard
what I should have done ten years ago. I'm just a late bloomer in all
aspects of sex."

	"Not all aspects. You made love to Jenny, didn't you?"

	"No, I had some kind of unsatisfying sex with her, but I didn't
make love to her."

	"David, I just don't understand. Jenny is so damned beautiful. God,
if I could ever have sex with someone like her...I'd probably have an
orgasm before I could pull my pants down."

	"Jerry, if you want to fuck Jenny...you have my blessing. But don't
say I didn't warn you if you're disappointed. To put it crudely, 'Jenny is
a lousy lay'!"

	"I'll bet if I DID ask her for a date, you'd change your mind..."

	"GO AHEAD! ASK HER! I couldn't give a flying fuck who she
dates...not even you!"

	"OK, just suppose I DID ask her for a date...say, like earlier
tonight...and things got hot and heavy between her and me...and I brought
her back here to go to bed with me. How would you feel THEN?"

	"If you were in YOUR bedroom with Jenny, I'd surf the TV channels
until I found a Brad Pitt movie or one with Colin Farrell and jerk off and
make louder noises than you and she!"

	"You could jerk off looking at Brad Pitt?"

	"Any normal guy would...except YOU!"

	"Is that your idea of 'normal?"

	"Is fucking Jenny Fairbanks YOUR idea of normal? I've been
there...done that... and have no desire to go back for more. Before I met
Luke in Atlanta and discovered my true sexual desire, I used to wonder why
I wanted to marry Jenny! So, she has a hole between her legs. You put your
dick inside it for a couple of minutes every night until you get off...turn
over and fall asleep. You do that for the first month...then, it's three
times a week instead of seven! Another month or two and it's ONCE a week!
Then once a MONTH...and for three minutes a month, you have to strap
yourself down financially and give up half of what you earn out of every
paycheck. Plus, if you even look at another woman, you have hell to pay and
you wind up fussing and fighting EVERY night and STILL have to go to the
bathroom to jerk off before you can get to sleep."

	"And why is it so different with someone like Luke...or any other
guy?"

	"A guy knows what the other guy wants because it's usually what HE
wants. He feels what you feel and vice-versa. He wants to please you as
much as you want to please him...but with a woman, you never know whether
you've satisfied her or not. OH, Jenny is an expert at faking orgasms. I
KNOW I never got her off ONCE. I don't think any man is ever sure his wife
or girlfriend isn't faking it. But with a man, you can see, touch, and
taste when he's ejaculated. You KNOW he's been satisfied and he knows when
YOU'RE satisfied."

	"Damn, David! You learned all this in less than a month?"

	"Jerry, since I found out I was gay..I've began to wonder why ALL
men aren't gay!"

	"Well, the human race does have to procreate."

	"You mean during that 'three minutes per month'?"

	"There's more to it than that, David."

	"Go see for yourself. Ask Jenny out. Bring her home and fuck her
brains out, but you'll be through in less that five minutes while she lays
there making you feel like an inadequate jerk because she didn't get her
jollies!"

	"Are you serious? I mean you wouldn't care if I asked Jenny out?"

	"I won't be here, but if I were, I'd be delighted. I'd sit back and
watch you make a fool of yourself!"

	"Then if you REALLY don't mind, I think I will ask her out."

	"Lord knows I don't mind!"

	"David, I'll make a bet with you."

	"I don't have any money to bet."

	"You won't need money. If I can bring Jenny here and have sex with
her, and you DON'T get jealous, I won't object to your leaving. But if you
DO get jealous, you have to stay here until I say you can go."

	"Thank God, I packed my bags because I WON'T get jealous. I'll up
the ante. If I DON'T get jealous, then you can't have any say about Richard
or any other male I wish to have sex with while I'm here...BUT, you have to
apologize...not to me, but to Richard and have him report at 2:45 as usual
this afternoon. IS IT A BET OR NOT?"

	"I...I'll call Richard at seven o'clock and have him here this
afternoon."

	"OK...and if you walk in from work and find us having sex, you
won't say a thing?"

	"All right...but you're NOT moving out! OK?"

	"If Richard comes back...I won't leave!"

	"It's a deal!"

<><><><><><><><><><><>

	Richard Sawyer had felt humiliated and embarrassed that afternoon
as he left Jerry's house after the blow-up. He was angry, not at Jerry, but
at himself for letting his emotions overpower his ethical work standard. He
tried to compare the scene in the bed with David with the two predominant
cases in the past where he had actually fallen in love with his
patients...both times, he knew they would end tragically, as the other two
had advanced AIDS.

	But this time, the person in his care didn't have a terminal
condition. David's diagnoses were treatable and curable. David would
eventually return to a life as a normal healthy individual. Richard
couldn't read David's thoughts or guess the reason for David having asked
Richard to kiss him. Was it passion or had it been just a release for
David's grief, frustration, and loneliness? Even though they had been
together for just over a week, Richard honestly felt a bond forming between
them. David had no one in his life and, in reality, neither did Richard.

	For almost a year, Richard had worked with Hospice Inc. where he
knew EVERYONE to whom he was assigned would more than likely die within a
month or less. He accepted this fact and tried to keep his emotions in
check and become hard-nosed about his patients' final days before giving in
to the grim reaper. At least that had been Richard's objective or goal. He
wouldn't, or couldn't, get involved in such short-termed relationships, but
this attempt at a defensive attitude was futile for Richard. He was too
kind-hearted for his own good. It only took him a few days working at the
hospice to learn that what his cognitive patients really needed was simply
knowing that someone cared for them.

	The mere fact that the patients were in a place designed to be a
respite before death made their need for instant love even
greater...especially the AIDS patients, the ones who had been rejected or
abandoned by family and friends. It was difficult for Richard to comprehend
that after the thirty years since AIDS became a topic in the news and
conversation, the general public was still so blatantly misinformed, so
wrapped up in blind ignorance concerning the virus.

	The endstage AIDS patients in the hospice were usually on morphine
drips and had little or no use at all for Richard's services. Practically
all of them died within a couple of weeks. But the ones who had just been
admitted were scared beyond belief. They knew where they were and why they
were there. Suddenly they were faced with the decision of accepting the
inevitability of heaven, hell...or nothingness. Richard learned very
quickly to hate all ministers, priests, and do-gooders. Most of them had
never known the patients prior to this final illness, but here they were,
trying to get the dying pitiful people to confess their 'sins' and finally
accept Jesus Christ as their saviour. Seeing the ugly picture, Richard
thought what they needed most was just someone to hold their hands and say,
'Hey, Buddy! I'm here for you, if you need me.'

	Usually, with what little physical strength the AIDS patients had
left, they would squeeze Richard's hand and reply with a sincere 'thanks',
even if it was only said in their eyes looking back at him. It was such a
temptation for Richard to lie down beside them and hold each and every one
of them for a final embrace...something they had missed for such a long
time.

	This was the reason Richard had fallen in love with his two
lover-patients with AIDS. One had lasted a year, the other nine months. He
had never had a hopeful relationship and perhaps that was why he had gone
too far, too fast, with David.

	David was mourning two losses, his lover and his brother, and
Richard couldn't be sure if David could ever really love him or if he would
be merely a palliative substitute for Luke. However, Richard was almost
certain he could easily fall for David once David had recovered completely
and could get to know him for whom he actually was, not just a stand-in
utility-man or a second-string replacement.

	Just before leaving Jerry's house, Richard wanted to shout to
David, 'You can move in with me. I'll take care of you!'...but he didn't
say anything, not even, 'good-bye'. Suppose David DID move in with
Richard--it was too soon to gamble whether David would ever return his love
and suddenly Richard would have a roommate, he'd have his space crowded,
with no future relationship.

	'Jesus Christ! All David and I did was jerk-off!' Richard kept
saying over and over in his mind. 'Was Jerry mad or jealous?'. After all,
Jerry had known David was gay before he asked him to move into his
house. In the erudite community of River Oaks, that in itself was proof
that Jerry was not homophobic or concerned about what his neighbors would
think of his manhood. So if Jerry was not gay OR 'bi', then why all the
ruckus?

	Richard thought the best thing for him was to put his name back on
the agency's roster and get as assignment to a new case as soon as
possible. Somehow he would put the incident with Jerry and his feelings for
David behind him and get another client, preferably one who was NOT
gay...maybe a ninety-year old CVA victim. After a cardio-vascular incident,
there wasn't much physical activity in the patient's immediate future.

	It was not quite 11:30PM when Richard left Jerry and David. He was
in a bad mood and didn't want to go home. He hated the taste of alcohol,
especially beer. He had no use for pot, coke, or any of the recreational
drugs. In spite of the stress from his work, he was on no medication for
depression, but he wanted or needed something to soothe his nerves. Perhaps
a bartender could make him a drink to hide the acrid taste of liquor...a
brandy Alexander, hell, even a Shirley Temple with vodka and extra
cherries. He had been to a gay bar a few times. The only such bar wasn't
that long a drive.  It was usually pretty crowded on weekends with the gays
from the college. This was still Saturday night and there just might be a
late crowd to cheer him up. So he got on the highway and headed north
until, an hour later, he arrived at "Le Cavaliers Gai" bar. Richard had
often wondered if the bar had been named after the UVA football team and,
if so, was it only a joke?.

	Even though it was after midnight, the bar was packed and
lively. Richard had never realized that there were so many gay guys at the
university...more puzzling, how many of them had girlfriends back at the
school, as David had had? The music was deafening with what looked to be
over a hundred guys dancing in the middle of the room. The booths, tables,
and the long wooden bar were all crowded. Richard's first impulse was to
turn around and leave. His second thought was that he couldn't see himself
going to the bar and ordering a Pink Lady or a Mimosa without getting
stared at, but he finally elbowed his way to the bar and ordered a Seven-Up
with Capt. Morgan's Spiced Rum...but only half a shot as he said rather
loudly, "Go easy on the rum, I have a long way to drive tonight."

	Once he sipped the sweet spicy rum with the sweetness of the soft
drink, he knew he would drink very little of it. It was all but sickening
to him. He decided one drink would be enough to last him the night.

	A few years ago, Richard's college roommate had told him that the
way to get attention at a party or in a crowded room, was to nurse ONE
drink all night; speak to no one; make no eye-contact, but just stare
straight ahead in the distance; and soon everyone in the room would notice
you and try to come figure you out. Within twenty minutes, eight young men
had approached Richard, introducing themselves to him. Richard didn't tell
any of them his name. He just merely uttered, "Nice to meet you..." and
continued staring in his steadfast direction, not at them. Richard's
roommate had also suggested that this was a good way to sort out the crowd,
ignoring the ones that didn't interest you until the 'right one' came
along.

	By 1:45AM, the bar began to empty out as some dorms at the
university had a 2:00AM curfew on the weekends. Soon there were less than a
half dozen patrons standing at the bar. Richard turned around to see who
was left...anyone interesting? There were two couples plus Richard and one
other guy who was looking deeply into his glass as if he were trying to
read his fortune. The guy appeared to be 'student'-aged and Richard sensed
the guy was depressed as he was so familiar with the emotion...the feeling
went with Richard's profession. Richard had no sexual interest in him, but
being a good shepherd, he thought he would speak to the young collegian and
try to cheer him up a bit, if possible.

	Richard edged himself over near to the stranger and spoke,
"Hello..."

	"Huh? Oh, hi..." the young man replied, rather glumly.

	"One of those nights...?" Richard asked.

	"One of those weeks..."

	"Man trouble?"

	"You might call it that..."

	"Have a fight?"

	"No...I wish I had."

	"I...I'm Richard..."

	"I...my name is Thomas...or rather Tom..."

	"Nice to meet you, Tom."

	"Same here."

	"Do you go to UVA?"

	"Yeah..."

	"Are you gonna be late for bed check?"

	"Nah, no one looks in on me. I don't have a roommate and the 'H.M.'
just assumes I'm in bed as I hardly ever go out."

	"Oh, so you stay in and study a lot?"

	"Yeah, at least I used to..."

	"I hope you don't mind my saying it, but you look as if you need a
friend or someone to talk with."

	"I guess it's true what they say, you can be lonely in a crowd,"
Tom replied. "I've been here all night with hundreds of guys around me and
I haven't been aware of any of them. It's like I've been by myself all
evening."

	"Look, Tom, it's almost two o'clock. If you'd like, we could go
somewhere for coffee or an early breakfast. Whaddya say?"

	"Don't be offended, but I...really don't have anything better to
do."

	"Is there a coffee house or an all night restaurant nearby...and is
it quiet enough to hear each other's conversation?" Richard asked.

	"There's an IHOP about five miles down the road."

	"Fine. Do you have a car?"

	"Yeah."

	"Then lead the way and I'll follow you."

	"Do YOU go to UVA?"

	"Oh, no. I graduated a few years ago from William and Mary."

	"Then do you live some place around here?"

	"No, I have an apartment in River Oaks."

	"Then why...? Oh, yeah, they don't have gay bars in River Oaks."

	"You got it!"

	"Sure, I have a light blue Mustang in the parking lot. Just follow
me down the road."

	"Tom, before we go, this is just for coffee or breakfast...nothing
else. Understood?"

	"That's the way I want it. I...oh, hell, we'll talk later."

	"Fine."

	Tom might have been sitting in the bar all evening, but he was not
drunk, not even slightly tipsy. Richard had had a bad night, being fired
from his job with David and he didn't want to be alone. Tom looked as if he
was in the same frame of mind. He wasn't ready to go home either, and he
really didn't want to be alone...and so they left. Tom, in his Mustang, and
Richard, following in his Corolla.

	The IHOP was fairly empty for a Saturday night. There were plenty
of spare tables in all sections of the room which meant Richard and Tom
could talk privately. Richard didn't want to talk about the trouble at
Jerry's, but maybe getting involved with Tom's problems was just what
Richard needed.

	In the restaurant lights, Richard got a better and closer look at
Tom. Tom wasn't exactly attractive...he wasn't 'UN'attractive, just sort of
plain. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt, topped by a logger's jacket. He
didn't have the Calvin Klein 'preppie' look about him or his attire. Either
the heater wasn't working in Tom's car or he forgot to turn the heat on
because Tom's cheeks appeared to be blue and chapped from the cold night
air. Richard saw that Tom was in dire need of a haircut and his blonde
beard, which didn't show too much, was two or three days old. Richard
wasn't sure if Tom had enough money for breakfast so he told Tom that the
breakfast was HIS treat. Tom smiled and thanked him.

	The waitress didn't ask, she automatically brought a carafe of
coffee and two IHOP mugs with the menus. She told Richard and Tom to take
their time and she'd be back soon.

	"Are you hungry?" Richard asked.

	"Not really. I guess I SHOULD be! I...I haven't eaten all day."

	"Then whaddya say that we fill you up? How about a western omelet
and a stack of pancakes?"

	"Sounds good to me."

	"Good, we'll make it two orders when she comes back."

	Richard gave the waitress a nod, at which she promptly returned and
took their order. Richard took the liberty of pouring two cups of coffee
and set one in front of Tom, who reached for the little cow-shaped milk
dispenser, followed by three heaping spoonfuls of sugar. Richard drank his
coffee black.

	"So, Tom, what year are you in at the university?"

	"Senior..."

	"And your major?"

	"General Ed. I...I still don't know what kind of work I want to
do."

	"Hadn't you better decide?"

	"I...I might teach...maybe junior high...but there's always the
chance someone will find out I'm gay and, well, you know how parents are
about letting gay people teach teenagers."

	"Why tell? You don't look gay...whatever that means..."

	"I suppose I could keep it quiet. Heck, I had the same roommate for
three years and he doesn't know."

	"That can put an unneeded stress on you when you need privacy."

	"Oh, we had an arrangement when it came to masturbating. We both
knew it was necessary for sheer sanity, but we agreed never to do it while
the other was in the room. He'd go out for a walk at night to give me a
chance to relieve my tension, then, when he came back, I'd go for a walk."

	"You couldn't do it together?"

	"No, he was super-straight...which meant, while I was around him, I
had to be super-straight as well."

	"Did you both date college girls?"

	"He did. I...I always told him I had a girl back home. So when it
came time to socialize, I'd always pretend I had to study."

	"You're talking about him in the past tense. Is he no longer your
roommate? Did he graduate?"

	"No, he was a senior, but decided to quit and go to another college
to get his degree."

	"Was there something wrong that he didn't stay for his senior year
at UVA?"

	"I don't know what the problem was...he just left."

	"Can I ask a personal question?"

	"Sure..."

	"Was he YOUR problem?"

	"He was and yet, he wasn't..."

	"Meaning...?"

	"It was so stupid. I'm twenty-two years old. I'm not a child, but
around him, I acted like a fumbling school boy-kid."

	"You are gay and he wasn't...?"

	"Exactly."

	"But you had a crush on him...?"

	"It was more than a crush. When each school year was over, I
couldn't wait for the summer to end so we could share the room
together. Hell, I knew it was hopeless. If I had even mentioned the word,
'gay', he'd have knocked me into the next county."

	"He was homophobic?"

	"He WAS...and he wasn't. His parents had brainwashed him concerning
faggots, but I never heard him say anything detrimental toward known gays
on the campus. He tolerated them as he might have tolerated me, had he
known I was gay. But I'm sure he would have moved out for appearance sake."

	"You don't think he even suspected?"

	"I'm sure of it. He was so damned good-looking...great
personality...he was my secret Prince Charming...only he had met his own
Cinderella and asked her to marry him. I think that's what hurt me
most. That bitch wasn't good enough for him."

	"You feel you'd've made a better mate for him?"

	"Sometimes when he got back from taking a shower, it was all I
could do to keep from licking him dry from head to toe. I would have walked
through fire or swallowed ground glass if he'd asked me to. There's nothing
I wouldn't have done for him."

	"Tom, since you accepted the fact that your relationship with him
had no future or was doomed from the 'get-go', why did you torture
yourself? I'm sure you knew lots of gay guys on the campus. I mean, you
were surrounded by them at the bar all night."

	"I'm like my sister."

	"What do you mean?"

	"When she met her guy, she vowed she'd be a one-man-woman the rest
of her life... and that's the way I felt. I was a one-man-gay-guy and he
was the only man for me."

	"Now that he's gone, are you just gonna grieve for him the rest of
your life? I mean, you DO have a life without him."

	"It took me nearly two days to believe he was gone and for the rest
of the week, I lay in bed trying to think of ways of killing myself."

	"Do you still feel that way...even now?"

	"If you're asking if I'm 'over him', then no, I'm not. I won't ever
be!"

	At this point, the waitress brought their food and Richard and Tom
didn't talk for a few minutes while Tom dived into the omelet as if he had
been starving for a week. Richard was glad Tom was eating, but even happier
that Tom had stopped talking which gave Richard a chance to delve into his
therapeutic psyche and decide what to say to his troubled new friend. If
Tom was suicidal, Richard couldn't leave him in this psycho-situation.

	Tom was the next to speak, "Would you mind passing that blueberry
syrup?"

	"Sure," Richard replied, handing the small pitcher to Tom.

	"I...I guess I was hungrier than I thought." His voice held a
slight embarrassment.

	"Well, you SHOULD be if you haven't eaten all day."

	"I could use some more coffee, too."

	"Your wish is my...whatever," Richard said, taking Tom's mug and
refilling it from the IHOP bottomless coffee pot. Then, without being
asked, Richard pushed the milk and sugar toward Tom.

	"Thanks!"

	They continued eating until Tom's plate was empty while Richard had
hardly eaten anything as he was still concerned about Tom's mental dilemma
and how he might help Tome solve it.

	"Aren't you gonna finish your breakfast?" Tom asked.

	"No, I've eaten all I can eat. Would you like to finish my plate?"

	"Sure you don't mind?"

	"Not at all, I like to see a guy with a hearty appetite."

	"I can't believe I got so hungry all of a sudden," Tom said as he
reached for Richard's plate and raked the leftover food onto his own plate
and began diving into the second omelet and pancakes. Richard sat there
almost amused, watching Tom eat another breakfast. Soon, Tom saw to it that
both plates were cleaned and he sat back in the booth with a satisfied
sigh.

	"Feel any better since you ate?" Richard asked.

	"Much...thanks. I mean, thanks for buying me the food."

	"You're more than welcome."

	"So, you're headed back to River Oaks?"

	"I suppose so...however, I would like to continue with our earlier
conversation for just a bit longer if you don't mind."

	"No, go ahead."

	"Tom, I'm a rehab therapist. I deal with private clients who need
exercise, counseling, recreation, and so forth. I spend my days and nights
trying to get people to feel better...physically, mentally, and
emotionally...and I'm afraid I got a little disturbed when you spoke of
wanting to kill yourself."

	"Oh, that's nothing new. I've been thinking of ways of doing that
since I was about fifteen, when I realized I was gay."

	"Beside the feeling you have or had for your roommate, have you
ever had a boyfriend?"

	"No..."

	"Crushes on other boys when you were younger?"

	"Crushes, yeah, but I never got to do anything with them. I kept
them a secret, just as I did with my roommate."

	"But you HAVE had sex, haven't you?"

	"Oh, lots of times."

	"With guys?"

	"Sure."

	"In high school or at the university?"

	"No way."

	"Then where?"

	"Truck stops, bathroom glory holes, adult book stores, you know,
places where you don't get to know anyone's name...you just meet long
enough to get off or get them off and then leave...usually without saying a
word."

	"Tom, you mean you've never spent the night with a guy in bed?"

	"Nope."

	"But surely, there've been occasions...like some of the guys at the
bar?"

	"They all live in the dorm...so I dismissed that idea completely."

	"I realize I'm asking a lot of personal questions...some might even
be painful for you to answer, but, Tom, I'm really trying to help you."

	"More than likely, I'll never see you again, so I don't mind
answering your questions."

	"Have you ever kissed a guy?"

	"Only in my imagination while I was jerking off...but never a real
guy."

	"And no one has ever held you closely in his arms?"

	"That's what I used to dream about the most with my roommate."

	Richard paused and thought for a minute before saying, "Tom, I know
what I said when we left the bar...you know, about our meeting here was
'just for breakfast', but...would you like to come home with me and spend
the night? I mean what would happen if you didn't return back to your
dorm?"

	"Nothing. The HM would probably figure I had signed out to go home
for the weekend and just forgot to tell him."

	"Does that mean you'd consider going back to River Oaks with me?"

	"I might...I mean, you DID buy me breakfast."

	"It wasn't my intention for you to reimburse me financially or
otherwise."

	"You...you wanna have sex with me...is that it?"

	"I would, but I'd rather show you what it feels like to make love
with a guy in a bed...the full show. You can stay all night and the rest of
tomorrow if you like. I just want to get to know you better...whether we
have sex or not. It's not like we're going to fall in love or enter into a
relationship...I had a rather 'trying' evening myself, and I think a little
holding and hugging would be good for both of us."

	"I...I haven't bathed or shaved all day."

	"That doesn't matter. You can shower and shave at my place."

	"Are you sure there are no strings attached?" Tom asked.

	"Positive."

	"Then, all right...but this time you'll have to lead the way and
I'll follow you in my car."

	"Fine...but don't ride my bumper by following too closely...and NO
speeding."

	"How can I speed if your car is in front of mine?"

	"I...just want us both to drive carefully."

	"OK, let's go."

	Richard left a nice tip for the waitress and paid the check and
soon the two were driving in series toward River Oaks. It was nearly an
hour before they reached Richard's apartment. Both parked their cars,
locked them and went inside the apartment building, then up the stairs to
apartment 3G. Richard turned on the lights and took Tom's jacket to hang it
in the front closet by the door. He then asked Tom to have a seat in the
living room while he got Tom some towels and a razor to clean up.

	Tom walked around the living room to look at Richard's books,
DVD's, and CD's, and yelled to Richard in the bathroom, asking if it would
be all right to play a CD. Richard said, 'yes' but not to play it too
loudly. Richard was also very curious to see what kind of music Tom would
select. Richard was more than astonished when he heard the voice of Barbra
Streisand singing, 'The Kind Of Man A Woman Needs', a song she had recorded
from the Broadway musical, 'The Yearling'. Tom, in the living room and
Richard, in the bathroom, stood still, listening to the lyrics of the
song. It almost like a hymn as Barbra sang...

				"Handsome, no, my man ain't handsome,
                         But there's a trace of a wondrous grace
                         In his weary face.
                         Life has done its best to break him,
                         But his strength and courage
                         Make him just the kind of man a woman needs.
                         Tender, he ain't always tender,
                         But in his eyes something warm and wise
                         Lifts me to the skies.
                         If his heart ain't always showing,
                         It's a comfort just to know him.
                         He' s the kind of man a woman needs,
                         Sometimes he'll grow angry
                         At some foolish things I do,
                         Than he'll forgive to spare me pain.
                         Times he'll know I'm troubled
                         So he'll laugh to cheer me through,
                         Till my heart is light
                         As summer rain.
                         Youthful, no, my man ain't youthful.
                         That time's gone by,
                         But his head is high
                         And his dreams won't die.
                         Though he's had his share of sorrow
                         He looks forward to tomorrow.
                         He's the kind of man a woman needs."

	Halfway through Barbra's ballad, Richard's phone rang. Either
Richard was ignoring the phone, didn't hear it, or was ignoring it. After
the tenth ring, Tom decided to pick up the receiver. It was after 4:00AM
and Tom thought the call might be important.

	"Hello?" Tom said.

	"Richard?" the voice asked.

	"No, this isn't Richard, but would you like to speak to him?"

	There was a pause.

	"Tom? Is that you?" the voice said.

	"Yes, but how did you...who is this?"

	"Tom, this is David...David Stanley."

	"DAVID! MY GOD! WHERE ARE YOU?"

	"I suppose I should be asking why you're at Richard's?"

	"Oh...well, he...he and I..."

	Richard came into the living room.

	"Did the phone ring?"

	"Yeah, and I picked it up."

	"Who is it?"

	"It's my ex-roommate, David..."

	All three were speechless, not knowing what to say to whom.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

(To be continued in Chapter Nine of "All My Tomorrows".)

"The Kind Of Man A Woman Needs" Lyrics by Herbert Martin
Music by Michael Leonard
from the Broadway musical,
"The Yearling"
Copyright 1965 by Barbra Streisand.