Date: Sat, 13 Jan 2007 16:20:04 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood:chris-and-beyond-112

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.

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


                                    "BRIARWOOD"
                            Copyright Ritchris, 2006/2007

                                  A dramatic saga

                                        by

			         Ritch Christopher


                                    <><><><><>


		   	             BOOK TEN


                                "CHRIS AND BEYOND..."


                                     *  *  *  *

                               "Maybe there's a chance
                                  For me to go back
                            Now that I have some direction.
                               It sure would be nice
                                   To be back home
                           Where there's love and affection.
                                   And just maybe I
                             Can convince time to slow up,
                                Giving me enough time
                                In my life to grow up.
                        TIME, BE MY FRIEND...LET ME START AGAIN!


                              Suddenly, my world's gone
                                And changed its face,
                           But I still know where I'm going.
                         I have had my mind spun around in space
                           And yet I've watched it growing,
                         And if you're listening, God, please,
                                Don't make it hard
                        To know if we should believe the things
                                   That we see.
                           Tell us, should we try to stay,
                         Should we run away, or would it be
                           Better just to let things be?

                         Living here in this brand new world
                                   Might be a fantasy,
                               But it's taught me to love.
                             So it's real, real, real to me
                                  And I've learned
                          That we must look inside our hearts
                                       To find
                                 A world full of love
                                      Like yours,
                                       Like mine,
                                      Like Home,"

                                 Lyrics by Charlie Smalls
                                  from the B'way musical
                                      "THE WIZ"
                                    copyright 1975

                                     *  *  *  *

                                     Chapter 112



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


	Brad didn't question the reason for Chris asking for ten-thousand
dollars. Chris could have asked for a million dollars and that still
wouldn't make a difference to Brad---he would never ask Chris to repay
him--all the while knowing that the house and all of Ed's assets had been
left to Chris in Ed's will. Chris hadn't touched a cent of Ed's estate
because, when he returned home from Europe after Ed's death, Chris had told
Walter, Ed's attorney, to keep the sum total of cash in escrow for a full
year in case some distant relative of Ed's wanted to contest it. Ed had
never mentioned any relatives to Chris, but usually when someone leaves a
legacy the size of Ed's fortune, distant cousins or some aunt or other on
his mother's side, whom he had never met came crawling out of the woodwork
to stake a claim on the fortune.

	After the telephone call with Chris, Brad walked from room to room
in the newly remodeled and redecorated mansion. Jay and Roger's contractors
and their workers had done a magnificent job, completing the transformation
in less than thirty-six hours. Brad knew that Chris would be surprised,
hopefully PLEASANTLY surprised. Brad went into the study in which Ed always
had kept his logs and progress notes from the Institute, plus a collection
of diaries explaining the medical advancements he had made toward the cure
for HIV and AIDS.

	Brad selected several volumes of Ed's works from the bookshelves
and sat down to read them. He became totally absorbed in the day-to-day
accounts of the life of Ed Middleton.  No wonder Ed was so highly regarded
in the medical profession and scientific studies. Brad, being a successful
author, could read between the lines to see what a caring, dedicated, and
loving man Ed must have been. The words left little for Brad to understand
why Chris had fallen in love with Ed...God! The man was not only a genius
but a glowing human being!

	Brad quickly picked up the phone and spoke with Roger and then with
Cliff, asking if he could have a private interview with them to talk about
Ed, to get their unbiased thoughts and impressions of the man. Both Cliff
and Roger agreed, but, at the moment, they assumed merely that Brad was
curious about Ed, in his role as Chris' former lover. Perhaps it was Brad's
intention to see how he, Brad, measured up against the late esteemed
Dr. Middleton. Neither Roger nor Cliff had an inkling of Brad's real
motivation. Brad told them that he would explain when he saw them in
person.

	His third phone call was to the Briarwood Florists to order a dozen
bouquets of solid white roses. Brad hoped that they would please Chris as
they had been Brad's favorites ever since he pledged Sigma Chi in college.

	For the next two hours, Brad sorted all of Ed's writings into
stacks, according to his own view, of importance, both clinical and
personal. Then he reared back in the chair behind the desk and said,
"Dr. Ed, you were famous when you were alive, but now I'm going to make you
legendary!"


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

	Chris walked through the lots of Carl's Bike Shop to look at every
motorbike Carl had to offer.

	"Are you looking for a bike for yourself?" Carl asked.

	"Sorta, but what I really want is the best bike you have that still
has a 'used' look to it."

	"You don't want a new one?"

	"I'd like to buy a new one, but the one I want HAS to be as good as
new, but must have a slightly 'pre-owned' look," Chris replied as he went
from bike to bike,

	"I DO have a couple of repossessions!"

	"Aha! That's what I'm looking for. May I see them?"

	"Sure, I have them in the garage out back. I was going to polish
'em up and make 'em look brand new...of course, when a potential buyer sees
the odometer, he'll know that it's actually used."

	Carl led Chris to the garage where two bikes were parked...a red
one and a black one.  Chris knew nothing about motor bikes or motorcycles,
but he WAS familiar with the name 'Harley-Davidson'

	"Are those motorbikes?" Chris asked.

	"Actually, no. Motorbikes are smaller. These are motorcycles."

	"And how much are you asking for each of them?"

	"Well, they ARE used and they both have quite a few miles on them,
but they'll last two-hundred thousand more miles before they break
down. The..uh..red one, I can let you have for twelve thousand five hundred
dollars!"

	"And the black one?"

	"There's a couple of dents in the back fender which I was gonna
knock out, but 'as is', I can give you that one for eight-thousand-dollars
flat."

	"What if I pay you in cash?"

	"Cash, huh? I...I'll knock another five-hundred off it."

	"I don't know how you operate your store, but would you put a
'sold' sign on the black one and I'll return in about half an hour with
seventy five hundred dollars in cash...I...I'll have to go to the bank to
make a withdrawal."

	Carl's jaw dropped for a second. "You're not bullshitting me about
the cash, are you?"

	"This clerical collar I'm wearing is for real. It's not a
costume. So I hope you'll take the word of a priest!"

	"Sure...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Father...it's just,
in all the years I've had my shop...NO ONE has ever paid cash. Usually I
get a check from a bank or a finance company..."

	"That's quite all right. Since I've never driven a motorcycle OR a
motorbike, would it be possible to have it delivered?"

	"Where to?"

	"About ten or twelve blocks from here...on the main street of
Riverwind..."

	"Sure, that's no problem!"

	"You see, actually, it's a gift to someone who's not expecting to
receive it."

	"Are you sure you don't want a brand-new one? For seventy-five
hundred--"

	"No, the used one will suit my purpose just fine! I'll be back as
soon as possible."

	"Take your time, Father! You've made my day!"

	Chris got back into the taxi which was waiting for him and went
back to the hotel to see if the moneygram had arrived.

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

	After packing his shoulder bag and changing into 'civilian'
clothes---jeans, t-shirt, and a jacket---Chris went back down n to the
hotel lobby to find out that the moneygram had arrived.  He paid his hotel
bill and asked the desk clerk where the nearest bank was where he could
cash his moneygram since the hotel didn't keep that much cash on hand. The
bank was only one block down the street, he learned. Chris thanked the desk
clerk for his southern hospitality and left to walk to the bank.

	He had no trouble cashing the check and asked the teller for
one-hundred, one-hundred dollar bills. He called a taxi, only to find out
that the same driver picked him up once again. This was their third meeting
and were getting to be 'old friends' by now. Chris instructed the driver to
take him back to Carl's Bike Shop and to wait for him. Then he went inside
to see Carl and paid him cash for the motorcycle. He wrote down the address
where Carl was to deliver the cycle and asked if Carl could wait for about
one hour before delivering it. Carl agreed and happily took Chris' money
and locked it in his safe immediately.

	Thanking Carl, he left to get back into the taxi.

	"Where to this time?" the driver asked.

	"There's a diner about two blocks from my hotel..."

	"Oh, I know that place. I eat there about three times a week. Good
home-cooked meals!"

	"Have you ever tried their country ham?" Chris asked.

	"TRIED IT? Hell, I've gained forty pounds eating it over the past
ten years!"

	"It sure leaves you thirsty, doesn't it?"

	"Only if it's REAL country ham...and, boy, their ham don't come any
'countrier'!" Chris laughed as the driver drove down the street to the
diner. "You want me to wait on you or do you plan on eating there?"

	"I'd appreciate it if you could come back in about thirty minutes
to take me to the airport."

	"Shoot, that ain't no problem!"

	Chris paid the driver his fare and got out, closing the door to go
into the diner. Just as he hoped, Cindy hadn't left yet; she was still
there. Chris went back to his familiar booth and waited for her to bring
the usual menu, water, and silverware.

	"You must sure like this place!" Cindy said.

	"I...I've grown rather fond of it during the past few days."

	"What kin I git for you?"

	"I...I'd like you to sit down and chat with me, if you won't get
into trouble with your boss."

	"Heck, my boss is my uncle...my mother's brother. If he gives me a
hard time, I'll just tell my mother and she'll give him 'what for'!"

	Cindy sat down on the opposite side of the booth.

	"I...I have a slight problem, Cindy, and I'm hoping you can help me
out with it."

	"If I kin...SURE! What is it?" Her face showed her suspicion that

	"Well, you see, Cindy, I was born and raised right here in
Riverwind. I used to have lots of relatives here. Nearly all of them have
died by now or moved away. I...I had this cousin that I grew up with. We
were about the same age. He passed away about a year ago, and at the time,
I was busy and couldn't make it here for his funeral. I...I got word that
he had left me one of his prized possessions and this is the first chance
I've had to come back to Riverwind and see about it!"

	"Well...what was it that he left you?"

	"He left me his Harley-Davidson motorcycle. I believe that some
people call them 'hogs'!"

	"WOW! Are YOU lucky!" Cindy replied with her eyes widening.

	"The only thing is...I don't know how to ride a motorcycle. I
really have no use for it. I live in a place called Briarwood, and recently
I just bought a brand-new car. I was wondering if you and your boyfriend,
Bucky, might want it?"

	"Gosh! A Harley is SO expensive! We'd never be able to afford it."

	"What if I were to say that I didn't want to sell it, but wanted to
give it away?"

	"I'd say you're crazy!" Her smile was a combination of joy and
questioning.

	"Well, since it was given to me...I really wouldn't be out anything
if I gave it away! Didn't you tell me that you and Bucky were planning on
buying a motorbike to take you to California?"

	"Well, yes...but...why in tarnation would you GIVE the Harley to
Bucky and me?"

	"Well who ELSE would I give it to? I can't take it back to
Briarwood on an airplane. It would be a great favor to me if
you'd...well...take it off my hands. I can arrange for it to be delivered
here...?"

	Cindy could hardly believe her ears. "Uh, mister, could you let me
make a phone call and call Bucky to see what he says?"

	"Sure. You can even use my cell phone."

	"Shoot! I've never used a cell phone! I wouldn't know how to dial
it."

	"I'll dial it for you, Just give me Bucky's number where you can
reach him. Once he answers, you can take the phone outside to talk with him
privately, if you like."

	"Dang! You've got my head a'spinnin'!"

	Cindy told Chris what number to dial...which was actually Bill's
telephone number and soon Bucky was on the phone talking to her. Cindy
excused herself and took Chris' cell phone outside on the sidewalk of the
diner. Chris could see the jubilation on her face while she told Bucky the
good news. Then he heard her scream, 'YAHOO!', then she turned back into
the diner to see Chris.

	"Well, what did Bucky say?" Chris asked.

	"He thought I was jokin' at first. Then I told him about you and,,
y'know, your cousin?..." tears welled in her eyes, "and, well, we're
leavin' for California tomorrow night...just him and me on the Harley!"

	"That's wonderful, Cindy! I was hoping you'd say, 'yes', so I took
the initiative already and the motorcycle will be delivered to you here at
the diner in about half an hour."

	"Oh, my Lord! I don't know what to say! It's just too big to be
real! All of my dreams are comin' true...all at once! How can I thank you?"

	"You can dedicate your first song on 'American Idol' to me and WHEN
you win, you can call me in Briarwood to let me congratulate you! Now,
since I didn't know Bucky's real name, I had the title of the motorcycle
put in your name. The license tags and registration are already paid
for. Do you need any money for gas?"

	Her face showed her disbelief in her good fortune---hers and
Bucky's "I---don't think so---Bucky and I have saved quite a bit!"

	"Why don't you take five-hundred dollars for expenses out to
California?"

	"Why would you give me money on top of the motorcycle?"

	"Let's just say I want to invest in your future! You're going to be
famous one day and I'll be able to sit back with pride to say that my
little five-hundred dollars paid off. I...I'm a gambler and love to play
the stock market. I make investments every day. Some pay off...other's
don't, but I'm certain that you're a winner that I want to take a chance
on."

	"You know, I don't even know your name."

	"It's Chris...Christopher Curtis."

	"My mother once gave me a medallion to wear around my neck. It was
a St. Christopher medal and it was supposed to bring me good luck. NOW I
know who the real St. Christopher is."

	"I'm no saint, Cindy, but I have spent most of my life helping
people like yourself."

	"Maybe you ain't no saint now, but one day you WILL be."

	"I would have to be dead to be a saint, Cindy."

	"Then I take back what I said...I certainly don't want you to die
on my account!"

	"I'm not going to die for a long, long time. I may be getting
married in December."

	"Well, all I kin say is she's ONE lucky girl!"

	"Believe me, Cindy, I'm the lucky one!"

	"Then, CONGRATULATIONS on getting married!"

	"Thanks, Cindy."

	"Heck! I should be thanking YOU!"

	"Cindy, just seeing you now, with that happy look on your face, is
thanks enough for me!"

	"Bucky's on his way over here. Please...please wait and let him
thank you?"

	"Uh...no. I have a plane to catch and the taxi driver is probably
outside the diner waiting for me now."

	"Kin I, at least, give you a hug around the neck?"

	"I'd be delighted."

	Cindy put both of her arms around Chris' neck and squeezed,
planting a kiss on Chris' cheek. He could feel her tears of joy wetting his
cheek.

	"Thank you, thank you SO much, Saint Christopher!" Cindy said.

	"YOU be a good girl, Cindy Lou Ledbetter and have a good life!"

	"I will! Don't you worry!"

	Chris left the diner, got into the taxi and headed toward the
airport. He thought about Bill all the way to the airplane and wondered
what Bill would say when Bucky announced he was going to
California. 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord', Chris thought, 'but
sometimes, vengeance is better than going to prison...'.

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


	LATER THAT SAME AFTERNOON, AT BILL'S HOUSE...

	"What do you mean, you're leaving me?" Bill asked with authority.

	"It's just time for me to go...that's all..." Bucky replied.

	"Look, Buck, we've waited all these weeks and months, waited so we
could be alone together. Did you forget that we just buried Carolyn earlier
today?"

	"Sure. I was there, wasn't I?"

	"Well---just WHERE do you think you're going?" His confusion
colored his thinking.

	"To CAL-I-FOR-NI-A!"

	"Whatever for? You have no friends or relatives out there."

	"I will though WHEN I get out there!"

	"Then you're implying that you're NOT going alone?"

	"Score one for you, Sherlock!"

	"Bucky, as long as we've been sleeping together and having sex,
don't you think I have a right to know just who my competition is? Is it a
boy from school?"

	"Hardly."

	"Some older guy?"

	"Nope!"

	"Not a kid, surely!"

	"Nope, not a kid!"

	"Then who, pray tell?"

	"Cindy!"

	"Cindy who?"

	"Cindy Lou Ledbetter!"

	"CINDY? FROM THE DINER?"

	"Score another one...right, Dr. Watson!"

	"You've GOT to be kidding. When did you start liking girls?"

	"Oh, when I was about six- or seven-years old..."

	"But you let me fuck you. You sucked my cock!"

	"That was just to get you to pay me more for helping you around
here while Carolyn was sick!"

	"And all the times you told me that you loved me and wanted to
spend the rest of your life making me happy?...they were all lies?"

	"Pretty good acting, wasn't it?"

	"I haven't paid you enough for you and Cindy to make the trip to
California without some kind of financial help. I know damned well that
Cindy doesn't make that kind of money in tips!"

	"We're gonna drive Cindy's new Harley-Davidson to California."

	"Now I KNOW you're joking. Where would Cindy get a
Harley-Davidson?"

	"Someone gave it to her!"

	"That's bullshit, Bucky! Do you have any idea how much a
Harley-Davidson costs? No one in his right mind would give a Harley to a
waitress at the diner."

	"Well, Bill, believe it of not...SOMEBODY DID JUST THAT!...Plus he
gave Cindy money to buy gas with!"

	"When did you and Cindy get so close?"

	"About three years ago, when I first fucked her. I hate to tell
you, but she gives head a heck of a lot better than you! She's gonna be on
'American Idol' and win a million dollar contract. Then we plan on getting
married in California sometime soon..."

	"BUCKY! Will you answer THIS?"

	"What?"

	"Do you know the man who gave the motorcycle to Cindy?"

	"Not really. Well, I met him a few times, but I think you know him
much better than I!"

	"'I' know him?"

	"Well, since he's left Riverwind, I can go ahead and tell you that
it was the priest!"

	"CHRIS???"

	"That's THREE correct answers for you! Now you can pick any prize
you like off the bottom row!"

	"CHRIS CURTIS GAVE CINDY A HARLEY-DAVIDSON?"

	"Don't forget about the gas money!"

	"JESUS H. CHRIST! THAT SON-OF-A-BITCH! I never thought he'd resort
to an extreme measure like this to break us up!"

	"When you say, 'us', are you referring to you and me or you and the
priest?"

	"Why, you and me, of course!"

	"Bill, can you remember back a few months ago when you told me
about having gay sex when you were young? You mentioned Chris by name as
being your boyfriend. Then you told me that you felt sorta guilty when you
left him to marry Carolyn. I think you were using that metaphor to explain
unrequited love...You know, when you love someone and he or she can't love
you back. WELL, I think you finally know what Chris felt like. You see, all
the while that you've been loving me, I...I was playing you...just like you
were playing Chris. I don't love you! I never did!"

	"You inconsiderate, greedy little asshole!"

	"Oh, now...that sounds like you don't love me anymore..."

	"Does your mother know that you're driving Cindy on a motorcycle
all the way to California?"

	"Yep! And she gave Cindy and me her blessing! She hopes we'll get
married soon because she wants a grandchild before she dies like Carolyn
did."

	"Bucky, did Chris tell you about the motorcycle before he left? How
long had the two of you been planning this?"

	"I never saw Chris after the funeral. The motorcycle was a total
surprise to me when Cindy called me from the diner to tell me about our
good luck! Boy! Chris must be REALLY rich to give away a 'hog'!"

	"I've heard he has millions! It's too bad that you couldn't move in
with him and woo him with your lies to get a small fortune out of him
before you up and leave for California with your young whore!"

	"Bill, now you're starting to get nasty, so before I smash your
face, I'd better leave and go to my house and pack what I want to take with
me on my trip!"

	"I...I just can't believe that I cheated on my dying wife in the
next room while I was being taken for a sap by an ungrateful, lying,
seventeen-year-old punk!"

	"I guess it hurts, don't it?". Bucky went to the front door and
opened it to leave. "But you know the old saying, 'a man doesn't know what
he has until he loses it!' You had no way of knowing it, but you lost
Chris, you lost Carolyn, and now you've lost me. As they say in England,
'ta ta, old sport! Cheerio and toodle-oo!'" Bucky went out the door and
shut it behind him.

	Bill was too proud to cry in front of Bucky. It would have given
Bucky too much pleasure to see Bill heartbroken and crying in despair, but
as soon as the door closed, Bill broke down and wept. He sank to his knees
in the middle of the living room floor and cried out, "Oh, my God in
heaven! What have I done?"

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

	'OVERWHELMED', meaning overcome with emotions or perceptual
stimuli, is a gross underestimation to describe Chris' response when he
first saw the renovation of his house. Even though some his favorite items
were present, they all looked wonderfully unfamiliar to him. Knowing Brad
as he did, Chris was sure that Brad was not responsible for such a task or
undertaking. What Chris saw was even too much to expect from the talented
Jay. No, some wizard or miracle-maker was behind this project and that
someone could only be Roger Cole.

	Brad was almost out of breath, chasing Chris from room-to-room as
Chris hurried from one section of the house to the next...STILL not
believing what was before his very eyes!

	"My God, Brad...it's so terrific, so wonderful, so...I can't find
words to describe it."  Chris said.

	"It's not too irrational for you?"

	"Only IF you had described it to me over the phone. I'm afraid I
would have been negative and asked you AND Jay NOT to go to extremes of
redecorating...but now that I've seen it, it's SO fantastic and I love
EVERY inch of it! How about you, Brad? Does this look like 'home' to you?"

	"Sweetheart, we could live in the old torn-down Dixie Hotel on
Forty-second Street in New York and I'd be happy as long as you and I were
there together!"

	"Brad, this is so exciting. I'm sure you have some idea of how much
I loved Ed and the wonderful life he and I shared and one of the biggest
doubts or concerns about us living together was that I was afraid that the
old decor would haunt you by thinking you'd moved into the middle of Ed's
and my life together...but THIS! This is ALL new and it can be OURS...YOURS
AND MINE...as we start the next chapter of OUR lives."

	"Would you like to see the goosebumps you just placed all over my
body when you said that?"

	"Come here, lover, and I'll warm you up and banish the goosebumps!"

	Brad walked toward Chris and Chris embraced him and kissed him
passionately.

	"God, I'm so glad you're back from Riverwind. I must've died a
thousand deaths thinking that you'd hook up again with Bill."

	Chris pulled his head back so as to look directly into Brad's
eyes. "When I told you how much I loved you over the phone, Brad, I meant
it. I could, and never would, go back to Bill."

	"There's so much I want to hear about your trip...about the
funeral...Bill...and the ten-thousand dollar act of charity!"

	"I'll tell you every minute detail over dinner. You DID say that
Jay was preparing us a special dinner, didn't you?"

	"IF you can call prime-rib, oven-fried potato wedges, and broccoli
au-gratin with white truffles a special dinner, then I guess Jay did."

	"My mouth is watering just hearing you describe it...almost, but
not quite, as watery as when I think about making love to you later
tonight."

	"Damn! Now you're making MY mouth salivate!"

	"Then, come on, let's eat so that we can hurry and go to bed."

	"I wish Jay had made a simple plate of cold-cuts now, just to keep
from prolonging our going upstairs for the evening."

	"You realize that Jay won't cook for us every night...and you just
might get cold-cuts when I fix dinner. I'm not much of a cook. For years, I
lived on soup and sandwiches served at the mission in Atlanta."

	"How short you memory is! Remember I have my certificate as a
culinary expert?"

	"You mean--you plan on cooking every night?"

	"As long as I'm married to a parson. I'll assume the duties of a
parson's wife."

	"Like hell you will! I've NEVER wanted a wife. You'll be a parson's
husband or nothing at all!"

	"That's right, I CAN be a parson's husband since the Anglican
Church has female priests!"

	"Brad, while I was away for a few short days in Riverwind, first of
all, the days were NOT short. They were some of the longest
twenty-four-hour periods, I've ever endured, being separated from you."

	"Everything you say to me, Chris, is from a plethora of dreams, the
things I've always wanted to hear from your lips."

	"Then let me add one more...I can't imagine a tomorrow without your
being in it."

	"Chris, it is 'I' that you're talking about?...not Bill or some
unfilled memory of Ed?"

	"I've never been so sure of anything in my life. As I said, when I
was away from you for the past few days, I finally got some small glimmer
of what you, apparently, have been going through for years...and that made
me feel ashamed and guilty. I have SO MUCH to make up to you."

	"Not by changing the past. Your love for Ed was real and you'll
have that treasure locked in your heart and mind forever and I'll NEVER be
jealous of it...but YOU! You big, handsome, wonderful lug, you have just as
much room in your heart and your mind for me, starting here, starting now,
starting always!"

	"At the moment, my life couldn't be MORE perfect, Brad. I have you,
this gloriously beautiful house...St. Genesius' is where God led me to
serve him...and along with that, God gave me Cliff, Roger, and the love of
the Briarwood Boys...and now, you! What more could I ask for in heaven and
earth?"

	"How about a puppy?"

	"I'd love it!"

	"How about a son or two?"

	"Dear God, you DID understand all my dreams! I'd love a houseful of
kids...boys, girls ...AND puppies!"

	"Didn't Walter arrange several adoptions for some of the Briarwood
Boys, as well as getting little Billy for Cliff and Roger?"

	"Walter's just the legal miracle that keeps all of us together! Oh,
you didn't mention Billy! Was he at home when you had dinner with Cliff and
Roger?"

	"Since Marc's show is out of town during tryouts, Rob and Tim asked
Roger and Cliff if Billy could accompany Marc for a week."

	"Did he go?"

	"Can you imagine Cliff or Roger denying their one and only son
ANYTHING?"

	"No, I'm sure they wouldn't!"

	"You still haven't told me about your ten-grand 'charitable'
investment."

	"I will, while we eat."

	Jay's feast was probably the best food Chris and Brad had ever
enjoyed in their entire lives. As Chris told of his experiences in
Riverwind concerning Bill, Bucky, Cindy Lou, and even Carl from Carl's
Bikes, Brad face would have rivaled Lon Chaney's 'Man of a Thousand Faces'
as Brad's brow furrowed, then changed to a broad smile...a look of
disbelief was followed by a glimpse of surprise...on and on until Chris
ended with his flight back to Briarwood.

	"Good God Almighty! You did ALL this, while arranging a final
unction AND a funeral within the span of two days?"

	"I had a little help from above. Yes, I did feel guilty about
breaking Bill and Bucky out of their relationship, but after I saw the way
Bucky had hoodwinked Bill and was taking him for the biggest ride to
nowhere in his life...not to mention the fact that Bill could have ended up
in prison and been branded as a child molester the rest of his life...I
thought about an old book, "In His Steps" where a whole town practiced the
mantra, 'What would Jesus do?'. I asked myself what Jesus would do in my
situation and I felt that my actions, good, bad, or indifferent, had been
divinely inspired and guided."

	"Chris, you did the right thing. Some day in the future, Bill will
come to his senses and thank you for it!"

	"I hope so, Brad! I really hope so!"

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

	"YOU'RE WHAT?" Cliff and Roger screamed at the same time, while
they both arose from their chairs, running up to Chris and Brad to embrace
them.

	Jay was sitting beside Troy, who looked astonished and delighted as
Jay said, "Oh, thank God, I can finally breathe. I've been bursting to tell
everyone the news about the two of you, I nearly exploded from the inside
out!"

	Whirling on Jay, the words tumbled out, "You knew about Chris and
Brad?" Troy asked Jay.

	"Uh huh..."

	"Why, you sneaky little National Enquirer reporter! And you didn't
say a word to me about it?"

	"I promised Chris and Brad that I would keep their secret until
they could tell everyone about it, themselves!"

	"Guys!" Roger whispered, hugging both Chris and Brad together, "I
couldn't be happier!"

	"Nor could I," Cliff added, his arms wrapped around all three. "I
think if ever there were two people who needed to be together, it's the two
of you!"

	"Thanks, Cliff...Roger!" Cliff replied.

	"That goes for me, too!" Brad echoed.

	"Hey, now! Wait a minute!" Cliff spoke up. "Does this mean that
you'll be leaving St. Genesius and move away with Brad?"

	"Are you kidding?" Brad interjected. "The way Jay, Roger, and
Roger's helpers fixed up our home, do you think we could leave it now? It's
a showplace, but on top of that, it's Chris' and my new home...the first
home I've ever had since leaving my parents years ago."

	"But your work, Brad...?" Cliff asked.

	"Cliff, I write...which means I can do my work in the back of a car
or sitting under an apple tree in the meadow, as long as I have a word
processor...and Chris. I keep all my work on data sticks and email it to my
agent in New York. He, in turn, has it transcribed and printed before it
goes to my publisher!" Brad explained.

	"I'd like to know more about the research you did this week with
Cliff and me," Roger said.

	"What research?" Chris inquired, looking puzzled at Brad.

	"Sweetheart, it's my wedding gift to you. It won't be ready for a
few weeks, but once it's completed, I hope you'll like it and approve."

	"What is it, Brad?" Chris asked, his imagination fired.

	"While we were admiring all the new changes and redecorations in
our home, I didn't know if you noticed the top of the desk in the study
very carefully."

	"The only thing I noticed was that everything looked organized and
stacked in neat little piles."

	"That's the way I prepare when I start a new book."

	"Then I'm MORE than curious why you were doing research with Cliff
and Roger. Is it a book of religious nature?"

	"No...more about human nature...well, actually about MORE than
human nature."

	"Tell me about it, Brad."

	"Chris, do you recall how Truman Capote wrote "In Cold Blood". It
was non-fiction, written in the style of a novel."

	"Yes, one of his best!"

	"I want to do the same thing, only write a fictionalized,
non-fiction account about the life story and work of Dr. Ed
Middleton...YOUR Ed."

	"Oh, Brad, you aren't...?" Chris said, choking up in his throat.

	"What a wonderful idea!" Cliff added.

	"Since I'm already a big fan of yours, Brad, I can think of no
other author who could write it better!" Roger said, smiling.

	"Do YOU like the idea?" Brad asked Chris.

	"No one could ever receive a more magnificent wedding gift than
that, Brad. Of course, I love the idea!"

	"My Lord!" Jay exclaimed. "If you send it to Brad Pitt, like your
other novels, he could make a movie from the book. Oh, Brad, I DO hope you
mention the Briarwood Boys in your book!"

	"I expect that there will be MANY chapters about the Briarwood Boys
in my book."

	"Dear God! I just wonder who'll play ME in the movie? Paul Walker,
maybe?"

	Troy rolled his eyes and replied, "Only if Bette Middler is too
busy to play you!"

	Everyone laughed. Chris embraced Brad and unashamedly kissed him in
front of everyone.

	"I DO love you, Brad," he murmured.

	"I've waited half my life to hear you say that in front of
witnesses, because that's how long I've loved you!"

	There was a long pause while everyone watched the new couple
exchange vows of love until Jay broke the silence.

	"Do you really think Brad Pitt would cast Bette Middler to play me
in a movie?"

	"Well, you know what a macho he-man Felicity Huffman played in
'Transmerica'!" Troy said.

	"That's right, she WAS butch...BUT I still think I look MORE like
Paul Walker!"

	"Jay, my darling, when you get ready for bed and I see you walk
naked from the bathroom to the bed, you DO look like Paul Walker to me!"
Troy replied. "I hope I'm not giving away secrets, but I'll even bet you're
hung better than Paul Walker!"

	"You'd better shut up before I get an erection for everyone in the
living room to see. Right now, I'm gonna serve dinner! I'll deal with YOU
later...after I cross from the bathroom to the bed."

	"That's my favorite time of each day, Jay!"

	"You'd better hush for real or I'll cry!"

	"Come here, 'Paul'!" Troy said, pulling Jay toward him. "I love you
more than all the Paul Walker's in the world!"

	"Are you saying that to drive me crazy? I assure you I can walk and
make it there by myself."

	"You drive me wild, Jay, so why can't I drive you crazy every once
in a while?"

	"I've said this to you when we're alone, but I've never said it for
others to hear. I thank God every day that you're mine and I'm yours. Years
ago, before I met you, I had no idea that such a person---so wonderful, so
handsome, so grand---would ever come into my life."

	"You took the words right out of my mouth because I can say the
same about you!"

	Troy kissed Jay and for one of the first times ever, Cliff and
Roger got to see Jay blush. When the kiss ended, Jay exclaimed, "What a
maudlin group, we are! Isn't anyone hungry?"

	"I'm starved!" Roger said.

	"Me, too, lover!" Cliff said, putting his arm around Roger's waist.

	"Well, then, as Perle Mesta often said, "DINNER IS SERVED!"...or
was that Elsa Maxwell?"

	"They BOTH said it!" Roger said.

	The three couples went into the dining room for Jay to serve his
feast.

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

Note from Ritch:
       A million and more thanks to Briarwood Boy, Ken, who has edited
"Briarwood" ever since I began the rewrite of "Whence Cometh My Help" for
the tiresome, countless hours he spent keeping me on track with the
story. I could never have written it without his help. His knowledge of the
Anglican Church has been a tremendous help, but most importantly, his
friendship has been so great I cannot find the words to describe...
especially since we have never met, nor even talked over the phone or
AIM. He wrote to me when I removed "Whence" from the Nifty archives and
asked if he could help with "Briarwood"...the new version. I'm sure he
didn't know how much work he was getting involved with...but I want him to
know just how much I appreciate his generous endeavor.  Ken is a bit under
the weather and I apologize to him and to my regular "Briarwood" readers
for any errors in this chapter which I edited myself.

			     Ritch Christopher
			       January 2007