Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2012 07:12:28 +1100
From: Marcus McNally <marcusis32@live.com.au>
Subject: Love On The Rocks - 34

This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this
nature offends you then you should not read this story.  If you are under
18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no
duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web
sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.

*************

Even though there was no knock on the door from Frank the next morning, I
woke early; it quickly becomes habit on a farm.  I wanted to turn over and
go back to sleep but I had an urgent need to piss.  I jumped out of bed,
pulled on my boxers, and padded down the hallway.  I could hear a tap
running and some quiet humming.

I reached for the bathroom door but before I could turn the doorknob the
door swung open and when he came face-to-face with me, I thought Scott was
going to have a pulmonary seizure.

"Fuck!" he yelled, jumping backwards.  "You frightened the crap outta me!
You're not supposed to be here!"

"Sorry mate," I smiled.  "I ended up not going to the Coast.  I thought
you'd have known that I didn't leave with everyone?"

"I wasn't here when they left," he replied.  "I said goodbye to Mum and Dad
before I left the house.  But why didn't you go?"

"Well," I sighed.  "Um, well ..."

"It's Ty, isn't it?"

"Yeah.  We had a confrontation and I said I wasn't going with him.  I then
drove around for a while and came back here.  I went to bed before you got
home."

"What's his fucking problem?" Scott urged.  "I'm getting the cold shoulder
too, and I haven't done anything wrong."

"Gotta piss," I said as I squeezed past him to the bowl.

Scott remained in the doorway.  "So what's gonna happen?" he asked.  "With
you two?  Like, you guys never fight ..."

"I don't know, Scotty," I sighed as I flushed the toilet.  "He's so angry
at the moment I think we're just better spending a bit of time apart.  If
he wants to talk, I'm just a phone call away.  If he doesn't ... he
doesn't."

Scott frowned.  "I remember when I was 12, Ty got like this with Lachie
when he wanted to join the Army, wouldn't talk to him, yelling at him.
Only this time it's way worse."

He scratched his head before adding, "Let's have some breakfast."

"Yeah, great idea," I smiled.  "Some muesli for me, and some toast, orange
juice, and coffee."

"I was thinking you'd be making it!" Scott giggled.

"I'm having a shower, mate!" I chuckled as I pushed him out of the bathroom
and started to close the door.  "Keep the toast warm.  Wrap it in a napkin
..."

Showered and dressed, I wandered into the kitchen to find Scott had done a
good job of throwing breakfast together although it was a toasted bacon and
egg sandwich for him in preference to cereal, toast and juice like he'd set
out for me.

We talked about Ty's behaviour and I filled Scott in on the pressure his
brother was under from the record company and the media.

"I don't get it," Scott shrugged.  "Like he's the most famous rock star in
the country and he's flipping out because everyone wants to interview him
and photograph him.  Man, I'd be lappin' it up!"

"It's not all it's cracked up to be, Scotty," I confided.  "The whole media
thing can be relentless.  But it's more that Ty wants to talk about his
music, not all the bullshit that women's magazines fill their pages with.
I do understand that.  But then again, he signed on for it.  If he didn't
have that contract he signed, agreeing to all of this, I'd go to bat for
him more."

"He's also got his tits in a tangle because he thinks I'm seeing someone
and he's not across it."

"And are you seeing someone?"

"I might be."

"You wanna talk?"

"Not ready yet, Mike," Scott said honestly.  "I need to be sure myself
before I talk about it to anyone here."

"Cool, mate," I smiled.  "But I'm here if you ever want to chat."

"Thanks Mike," Scott replied, bumping fists with me before grabbing his
keys.  "Gotta go."

"Where are you going?"

"Well Mother, it's like this ..." he began, before I hurled a scrunched up
tea towel at him.

"Go, have fun!" I grinned.  "Don't take boiled lollies from old men ..."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'll just hang around here and feel sorry for myself ..."

"Catch ya later, sad sack!" he smirked before scampering out the side door.
I poured myself another coffee as Scott's blue Mazda disappeared down the
driveway.

**********

The first few days were relaxed for me, although my mind was much consumed
with the problems between Ty and me.  He hadn't rung me, and I hadn't rung
him.  I heard from George two or three times and was pleased to know that
Dot and Frank were having a wonderful time.  Ty was doing all the right
things to keep them entertained and well fed, but according to George there
were several instances where a phone conversation with Vince would
completely change his mood.

Frank had tried a couple of times to talk to Ty, about the way he was
behaving and to ask questions about me, but he was headed off at the pass
every time.

I also had a few texts from Lachlan and Ellie, who were having the time of
their lives in Bali.  I worded my replies in such a way as not to make it
obvious I wasn't on the Gold Coast.  The last thing I wanted to do was give
the honeymooners anything to worry about.

A couple of nights Scott stayed home.  The first night we had steak and
salad on the verandah, and the second night I took him to the local for a
pub meal and some beers.

I hadn't contacted Steve because I knew he thought I'd be on the Coast.  He
had a long list of things to complete around the house before Lachlan and
Ellie got back and I didn't want to distract him.  More to the point, I
wanted to delay for as long as possible being grilled about why I'd stayed
behind in Stanthorpe and what was going on between Ty and me.

It was a matter of finding the courage to face it.  One evening, I decided
I'd just drop in at Sugarloaf Road and surprise Steve after his busy
working day.  I parked and walked up the steps to the front door, which had
been left unlocked.

I walked in and was about to call out to Steve when I heard a wailing sound
from somewhere close by.  It took me a moment or two to focus before I
realised I was hearing the sound a woman being pleasured, and that clearly
Steve was busy getting off.  Never one to have sex in silence, Steve was
telling his girl exactly what he was doing to her and how good she was
making him feel.

I tiptoed out of the house, started the car and wondered all the way back
to the farm whether those strangled cries of "OH GOD! ... yes! yes! yes!"
were coming from Frances.  As if I didn't know ...

I called Steve the next morning during his morning break.  He was pleased
to hear from me, but totally surprised when I told him I was still at the
farm.  "I thought you were on the Coast?" he questioned.

"Nah, I ended up not going," I said simply.

"But why?  Is everything OK?"

"Yeah, it's a bit of a long story, mate," I replied.  "You got time for a
coffee?"

"Sure, you wanna come over here?"

"Nah, meet me at Bella Rosa's on Granite Belt Drive at 11?"

I cleaned up the bedroom and bathroom and washed the breakfast dishes
before jumping in the car and driving to the tearooms.  I parked, headed
inside and found Steve already waiting for me at a quiet table.  I ordered
Devonshire tea for us both before joining him.

"So how come you've been so quiet since the others went to the Coast?"
Steve asked tentatively.

"Just needed some time to myself, mate," I replied.  "I did try to drop in
and see you last night ..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, dropped by and the door was open I came inside, but ... um, let's
say I realised you were busy!"

Steve's face broke into a grin.  "Yeah," he said a little sheepishly.
"Little brother's been catching up on what he's been missing out on!"

"I assume it's Frances?"

"Yep!"

"You move quick, mate!  Hasn't she just broken up with that guy ... Casey
isn't it?"

"Well, they just broke up recently, but the relationship's been on the
rocks for a while," Steve explained.  "He's a full-on computer boffin and
apparently he's been neglecting his duty for quite a while!"

"So you've just been picking up the slack?" I smirked.

"It's been my pleasure!" he chuckled.  "And there's nothing `slack' about
Frances, if you get my drift!  Man, she's been hangin' out for it as long
as I have!  Mate, that first time! – it was like the New Year's Eve
fireworks!  And she's not a once-a-night kind of chick either, praise the
Lord!"

"Well good on you, mate!" I laughed.  "No more beating up Bob and the
twins!"

"You got that right!" Steve grinned.  "Anyway, enough about my awesome sex
life.  What's going on with you?  I thought you couldn't wait to go to the
Coast?"

"Well, it's like this mate," I began, before pouring my heart out about Ty
and the doubts I had about our relationship.  He got the lot; the record
company, the media, pressure to be seen with chicks, his anger over his
perception of me not taking his side, his issues with Scott ...

Steve remained quiet, but quietly shocked I think, through my whole
unburdening.  Once, when I was in danger of losing it, Steve reached out
his hand and held it on my forearm, steadying me.

When I'd finished, Steve stayed silent for a few moments, collecting his
thoughts.  He lifted his head and looked me in the eyes.  "Mike, I don't
know what to say," he said.  "It's kinda hard to believe.  You and Tyson
are like, well ... you know ... Mr. and Mr. Perfect.  I've watched the two
of you ever since I knew, and you've been so ... I dunno... solid."

"That's what I thought," I sighed.  "We were.  And then it all ... turned
to shit.  I feel bad dumping it on you like this, but I just had to talk
about it with someone outside the Hill family ..."

"I've dumped on you so many times over the years, mate," Steve said
sympathetically.  "For once in my life, I can be here for you.  But just to
rule it out, I gotta ask ... do you think? ..."

"There's somebody else?" I asked, finishing the awkward question for him.
"Honestly, no.  It's just not Ty's nature.  What I'm sensing is ... it
feels like he hates me.  Or at least resents me.  And I just don't know
why."

"Instead of letting him brush you off, maybe you should have pushed the
issue a bit more? Steve shrugged.  "And I don't just mean just suggesting
you both sit down and talk.  Like, push it."

"I'm a lawyer, Steve.  My default is always discussion and resolution.
I've never lost it with him, I'm just not the type to initiate a blow up
..."

"Maybe that's part of the problem, Mike," Steve replied, his hand gripping
my arm.  "I don't mean this as a criticism, but you never go ape-shit over
anything.  You always suck it up.  Like with me, you just put up with all
my shit for all those years.  You just kept bailing me out when you really
should have punched my lights out.  I mean, you'd probably have got a
bloody nose in return, but it might have been an earlier wakeup call for
me."

"It's not the way I deal with things, Stevie," I explained.  "I could never
punch your lights out.  Or Ty's.  That's assault, for a start.  A fist
fight might occasionally clear the air, but it doesn't solve the problem."

"No, but like me, Tyson maybe thinks you feel guilty because you don't
fight back.  You don't ever say `Enough!'."

I pondered Steve's comments for a while and caught him glancing at his
watch.

"You go," I said.  "Sorry, I've probably held you up."

"It's just I've got a tradesman turning up in 15 minutes and I need to show
him what has to be done," Steve replied.  "Let's talk about this some more?
Are you up for dinner tomorrow night?"

I smirked.  "You reckon Frances will let you out of bed?"

"Got a plan," he winked.  "I've got three hours off in lieu for doing some
work last Sunday.  So I'll take that tomorrow afternoon and let Fran
benefit from a couple of other tricks I have up my sleeve!  By the time I'm
ready to leave for dinner, she'll be exhausted and she'll want to sleep!"

"Good plan!" I laughed.  "Thanks Steve.  I feel good that I've verbalised
all this shit."

"Mike, I never want to see you unhappy," Steve said.  "You've always been
the happiest guy I know.  Right now, I'm not thinking good thoughts about
Tyson Hill, I can tell you ..."

"Don't let this colour your opinion of Ty," I replied hesitantly.  "He's a
beautiful guy.  I'm just floundering to find out what's caused the closed
door."

"I've gotta go, Mike," Steve said.  "Come over anytime you like.  Just ring
first!  Otherwise I'll see you for dinner tomorrow night. How about Anna's,
the Italian place on Omara Terrace?  Lach and Ellie go there a bit, they
reckon it's great."

"Done!  We'll make it 7.30."

We stood.  "See ya then mate!" he smiled as he hugged me.  "And call me any
time."

I smiled as Steve walked out of the tearooms, focused on getting back to
Sugarloaf Road and doing an honest day's work.  I sat for a while longer
over my tea, trying to formulate a plan for when Ty returned from the Gold
Coast, but nothing was falling into place.  I needed to know exactly what
was weighing so heavily on Ty's mind before I could even think about fixing
it.

I went to settle the bill only to find Steve had taken care of it!  I sat
in my car for a few moments in Granite Belt Drive before taking off towards
Wallangarra Road.  I stopped at the lights at the corner of College Road
and did a double take.

To my left I saw Scott strolling down the driveway of a block of units,
walked to his car by an older guy; an older guy who just happened to be
Andrew Wall, the one-time pastor of St Michael's Church ...

**********

As a lawyer I have learnt the art of not letting my face register my
thoughts.  But alone in my car, I was suddenly aware that my jaw had
dropped and I was watching them with my mouth open.  Scott was with the
former man of God?  Seriously?  This was something I wasn't expecting...

When the lights changed I pulled over and parked a distance from them on
the other side of the road.  They were too engrossed in their conversation
to notice my car and, as Scott prepared to leave and he and Andrew
embraced, I started my car, did a U-turn and high-tailed it back to the
farm.

I expected Scott would arrive home just after me, but it was actually
several hours before he turned up, just in time to ensure he'd get some
dinner.  I decided to play it cool.  Scott had a shower when he got home
and turned up in the kitchen whistling, wearing shorts and a singlet.

"What's cookin'?" he asked with a grin.

"Pasta," I replied as I hauled the boiler on to the gas jet.  " We're
having Penne with mushroom, zucchini and chicken, with basil pesto and
crumbled goat's cheese."

"That sounds pretty fancy!  You've been spending waaaay too much time with
George!" he giggled.

"How was your day?"

"Yeah, good.  How about yours?  What did you do?"

"I had a coffee with Steve this morning."

"How's he?  Did he end up nailing Ellie's sister?"

"I believe he did, as a matter of fact!" I chuckled.  "After I caught up
with Steve, I drove down Granite Belt Drive and when I got to the lights at
College Road, I could have sworn I saw you getting into your car ..."

"Oh," said Scott, suddenly flushing.  "Yeah, well I was ... er, visiting a
mate."

"Andrew Wall's a mate?  You only met him at like, Christmas?"

Scott got defensive.  "Jesus Mike," he said crossly.  "You're starting to
sound like Ty.  Who? What? When?  Where?  I feel like I'm being stalked."

I put down my cooking utensils and grabbed him into a hug.  "Sorry mate," I
said as I ruffled his curly hair.  "It's none of my business, and I'm not
checking up on you.  I just happened to be driving by.  But I'm a bit
surprised, that's all.  I mean, I wasn't expecting you'd hook up with a guy
just out of the ministry, who's like, six years older than you."

Scott took a couple of steps back and looked at me intently.  "Whoa!" he
exclaimed.  "Fuckin' hell.  Look Mike, we really need to have a talk.  I
don't feel ready to have this talk, but I think we've gotta do it."

Over two helpings of my (excellent!) pasta, the story of Scott's recent
life unfolded.  I had regained my unreadable lawyer's visage, but inside I
registered surprise several times. We moved into the lounge and I let Scott
continue talking it all through without interruption.  He laid everything
on the line and when he was done, all I could do was open my arms and let
him scurry in for a cuddle.

I told him we'd sleep on it and talk about it some more tomorrow, which
gave him breathing space to enjoy the rest of the evening watching a movie
with me, snuggled under my arm.  Not long before the movie ended I realised
he was asleep.  I extricated myself, cleaned up and then woke him and
steered him down the hallway to his bedroom.

Once Scott was asleep, I lay in my bed contemplating how Ty would handle
this latest turn of events. He'd flip out, for sure, and in a way I could
see where he'd be coming from.  Eventually I relegated it to the "Ty's
problem" basket, and only then could I sleep.

***********

As was now his pattern, Scott disappeared after breakfast, presumably to
see Andrew Wall.  Before he left I managed to casually ask him if he'd like
to join Steve and me for dinner at Anna's and he jumped at the opportunity.

I spent most of the afternoon lying on the couch trying to get my head into
how to handle things with Ty, but every plan of action I hatched ended up
fraught with complications.  I was frustrated at the irony of knowing my
skills as a lawyer more often than not brought swift resolutions to my
clients and the parties with whom they were in conflict, yet they were
letting me down when it came to my own relationship.

By the time I heard Scott's car coming down the drive, I had two things
resolved in my mind, yet sadly they were at odds with each other.  On one
hand, I loved Ty with all my heart and I truly believed that we were soul
mates.  But on the other hand, our relationship was falling apart and I
felt a sense of futility in the realisation that there was no immediate
means of fixing it.

I sighed and sat up as Scott walked in.  "How's your day been, mate?" I
asked.

"Great, Mike.  How about you?  Did Ty call?"

"No mate, he didn't," I shrugged.  "You worked up an appetite yet?"

"Man, have I ever," he giggled.  "I only had half a sandwich at Andr
... um, where I was!"

I smiled when he coloured slightly.  "It's your life Scott," was all I
wanted to say.  "I hope you know what you're doing with it." I said.

"For the first time in a long time, I actually do feel like I know where
I'm going," he smiled back.

"I'm happy for you, mate," I replied. "I'm just gonna grab a shower and
then we'll go meet Steve."

Scott wandered into the bathroom while I was under the shower above the
bath.  He took a leak and then brushed his teeth and I caught his eyes in
the mirror.

"You're not checking me out are you?" I asked, feigning shock.

"Well, maybe just a bit," Scott giggled.  "You've got an OK body for an old
bloke!"

He ducked when I threw a wet face washer at him and then scurried out the
door while I dried myself and dressed for dinner.

Scott wanted to drive me to the restaurant so I jumped into the passenger
seat of his immaculately clean Mazda 3 Maxx and relaxed as he drove very
skillfully to Omara Terrace.

"I'm pleased to see you're looking after the car," I remarked as we pulled
up near the restaurant.

"Yeah," he agreed.  "But I've been thinking maybe I should just give it
back to Ty and save up for my own car.  So I'm not obligated to him ..."

"Don't do that mate," I urged him.  "That'd break his heart."

"But it's OK for him to break your heart?"

"Don't let what's happening between Ty and me affect your relationship with
him, Scott."

"I don't really have a relationship with him at the moment, Mike.  He's
just ... I dunno.  Weird."

I put my arm around his neck and kissed his cheek.  "We're gonna have a
nice dinner and worry about all this shit some other time, mate!" I
grinned.  "Let's go eat!"

Inside the restaurant, Steve was already seated and he waved as we walked
towards him.  Before I could explain why Scott was with me, Steve had
welcomed him warmly and arranged an extra place setting at our table.

"You're looking really good Scotty," Steve enthused.  "Your hair looks
... I dunno, curlier than usual?"

"Yeah I got caught in a rain shower when I was in Toowoomba today.  My hair
goes mental when it rains."

"That's the same with Ty ..." I started, before trailing off.  "So have you
checked the menu, Steve?"

"I have!  French onion soup for me, followed by the crumbed John Dory."

I got Scott to order a bottle of white wine and some sparkling water while
I scanned the menu.  "This is nice," I said.  "I reckon I'll go with the
stuffed mushrooms and the scallops au gratin."

I handed the menu to Scott and as he perused, I added, "I already know what
you're going to order!"

Scott smirked and read the menu.  "OK smart arse, what am I having?"

"Prawn cocktail, followed by chicken parmigiana!"

"How do you know that?" he asked, surprised.

"Because you're a Hill boy, and I know what Hill boys like to eat!" I
laughed.

We ordered our meals, and listened while Steve proudly told us how well the
renovations at Sugarloaf Road were progressing.  Our entrees were served,
and we were just finishing them when I looked up and saw the former
Reverend Wall in the restaurant's reception area.

He noticed me at the same time and waved, before starting to walk towards
us.  I wasn't quite sure how awkward this was going to be, but I did notice
Scott's face light up.

"G'day Mike!" Andrew smiled broadly, as he shook my hand.  "Hey Scotty!"

I introduced Steve, who quickly invited him to join us for a meal.

"Thanks for the offer, mate," Andrew replied.  "I've got a bit of stuff to
do at home tonight so I've ordered some pasta to go."

The waitress signalled that his order was ready.  "I'm glad I saw you
here," he said to Scott, as he reached into his pocket and dropped a watch
on the table. "You left this at my place earlier."

"Oh ... thanks," said Scott, trying not to look embarrassed as he slipped
it back on his wrist.  We both stole a glance at Steve but his eyes were
following a shapely girl's arse as she returned to her table, and he
appeared not to have heard what Andrew said.

"Well, better be going," Andrew smiled.  "Nice to meet you, Steve.  Maybe
there'll be time for us all to catch up for a meal or a drink before you
head back to Sydney?  Tyson too?"

"Yeah, that'd be good mate," I replied.  "Ty's away at the moment, but
maybe when he gets back ..."

Andrew gave us the thumbs up, collected his food and left the restaurant.
"He's the minister dude, yeah?"  Steve asked.

"He was," I explained.  "He's left the ministry now."

"He probably just got desperate for some pussy!  Seems like a nice bloke."

"Yeah, he's a good man," I agreed, and was thankfully spared further
discussion about Andrew when our main courses were served.

The rest of the night was fun.  Steve deliberately kept things light,
sensing there was angst in the air.  He told jokes, listened to Scott's
thoughts about enrolling in Uni locally and encouraged him, and shared a
little too much information about his new girl Fran and how much she was
enjoying playing `let's hide Steve's sausage' ...

He laughed at our disinterest in his new love's sexual skills, and we
almost fell off our chairs laughing when he screwed up his nose at our
descriptions of the joys of hot and sweaty man-on-man sex.  By the time we
were served our coffee, we were lightly buzzed and completely relaxed.

I was surprised when Steve again settled the bill.  I thanked him for
dinner, and for lending me his ears when I needed to unburden myself.
"Mikey, you were always there for me, even when I was fucking you over.
I'm here for you now.  Don't get the `dick in the bum' stuff with guys, but
I want you to be happy."

There was a pause when Steve looked at Scott, unsure of whether to proceed.
He took a breath, looked at me and continued, "Little brother's advice –
punch the rock star in the nose!"

"Hey!" Scott objected, before he thought it through.  "Well, yeah.  Maybe.
Like, don't hurt him.  You could smack him on the back of the head, like
does with me ..."

Scott suddenly welled up and I grabbed him.  "It's OK mate," I tried to
reassure him.  "You haven't done anything wrong.  Ty's not in a great place
right now, but you know he loves you.  He's your brother."

He sniffed and hugged me back.  "You're more of a brother to me at the
moment," he snivelled.  "You know I love you Mike."

Yeah," I sighed.  "I know. And I love you too."

Steve's interruption with "Can you two get a room?" made Scott laugh.  As
we climbed into the Mazda, Steve asked if I wanted to have coffee again the
next day?

"Let's play it by ear, mate," I suggested.  "Everyone's home from the Coast
tomorrow, so I'll just see how that pans out."

Scott dropped Steve at Sugarloaf Road before driving us back to the farm.
He switched on the television and we sat, but it was obvious he wanted to
talk some more.  I poured us each a bourbon and coke and I listened as he
once again detailed his dilemma.  This time, he asked for my input.  And
so, for the next hour, I told him what I thought.  I gave him every `worst
case scenario'.  I cautioned him strongly.  I made him aware of how his
family might feel.

He listened carefully to everything I had to say, nodding every now and
again.  Once or twice he leaned back on the couch and put his hands behind
his head with his feet of the coffee table; that's something Ty often did
when he was giving serious thought to something ...

When I finished, Scott scratched his head.  "Well, I'm making you my
lawyer," he said.  "And you can tell me what to do?"

"This isn't something a lawyer can solve for you," I replied, "Only your
heart can do that."

**********

Next morning I was woken from a peaceful sleep by a door slamming.  I
jolted, but kept my eyes closed until I heard a thundering "WHAT THE FUCK?"

I sat bolt upright and looked straight at Ty's fuming face.

"Ty!" was all I could think of ...

"What are you doing in my bed with my brother?" he demanded.

"What?" I asked, before turning around and realising for the first time
that Scott was in bed with me, and now very much awake.

"I didn't ..."

"You didn't WHAT?" he thundered.  "So what's happening now?  You've got the
whole legal control thing stitched up, and now you're working your way
through my family?

I was angry and I threw back the doona and jumped out of bed.  I was about
to yell back when Ty started in again.  "Oh great.  You're naked, too.
Naked, and in bed with my brother."

Scott, wearing Lachlan's boxers, jumped out of bed and screamed at his
brother.  "What the fuck's wrong with you, Ty?  I had trouble sleeping and
I came in here at about 3 this morning.  Mike didn't even know I was here.
I just needed to be with someone.  And guess what?  Lachie's in Bali, Mum
and Dad were on the Coast, and you've been living in Weirdsville."

Ty clenched his fists and said, between gritted teeth, "Well I'm glad my
naked lawyer could be there for you."

He turned and started stomping down the hallway and we both heard him
mutter something like, "Mr Fucking Wonderful ..."

After we'd showered and dressed, breakfast was a whole lot of fun!  Ty ate
while playing his mobile message bank over and over again, his phone
pressed to his ear so he didn't have to engage in conversation, Scott
skulked and I quietly fumed.

"Why are you here on your own?" I finally asked.  "Where are your mum and
dad, and George?"

Ty mumbled something about his parents arriving in Brisbane and deciding
they'd spend a whole day in the "big smoke" shopping in the department
stores, which I guessed was something they seldom got to do.  George had
volunteered to stay with them, probably to be out of Ty's company.  With a
three-hour drive ahead of them, they wouldn't be home until afternoon.

Scott wandered into the kitchen, ate some toast quickly and grabbed his
keys.  "I'm going out," he said, disappearing out the side door.  Silence
prevailed for a while, before I tentatively suggested, "Ty, we really need
to talk ..."

Ty looked at his watch and said dismissively "I'm meeting the plasterer at
Sugarloaf Road.  I've gotta go."  He grabbed his keys and headed out the
door.

"Can we make a time to talk when you get back?" I called after him from the
porch, but I got no reply.  Slumped against a railing post I watched him
roar off down the driveway.  That familiar gnawing feeling returned to my
stomach, the same feeling I occasionally got when, after a lengthy court
battle, I realised that I was going to lose the case.

I walked back into the kitchen and started cleaning up breakfast dishes
when I heard Scott's car returning and then his footsteps up the back
stairs.

"You're back early," I said.  "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, Andrew wasn't home.  I forgot he does volunteer work at the
community centre some mornings," he replied.  "I'll go see him this
afternoon."

He picked up his iPod and headed towards his room before doubling back and
asking, "Where's Ty?"

"Sugarloaf Road," I said.  "He was meeting someone."

"Did he apologise?"

My quick chuckle gave Scott his answer.

Scott had only been in his room for a few minutes when Ty's car came
screeching back down the driveway and I watched him stomp to the back door
with fury all over his face.  I braced myself.

He stormed into the kitchen and confronted me.  "What in fucking Hell's
name are you trying to do?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.

"Scott and that fucking minister from St Michael's?  YOU KNEW?"

"Knew what?"

"Don't fuck with me!  Your brother filled me in.  You went out to dinner
and Andrew fucking Wall turns up to give Scott back his watch.  You knew
Scott's been fooling around with him and you didn't tell me??"

"He's been going to Andrew's ..."

Ty cut me off as he yelled, "Are you INSANE?  Do you know how much this
would hurt my parents, to think their youngest son is fucking around with a
church minister?"

Before I could respond, I heard Scott hiss "Jesus fucking Christ" as he
literally thundered down the hallway.  The kitchen door flew open and
slammed so hard against the wall I thought it was going to come off its
hinges.

He stood in front of his brother and screamed, "THIS HAS GOT TO STOP TY!"

"You're out of your mind!" Ty spat back.  "That fucking cradle snatcher was
your local Pastor!"

"I'M NOT HAVING SEX WITH HIM, YOU ARSEHOLE!"

"Really?  Then what are you doing with him?  Naked Bible readings?"

"Well seeing you're so fucking determined to know everything I do or even
think, I'll tell you," Scott seethed.  "Simon Miller's back and he wants us
to get back together.  He's staying in Toowoomba and I've seen him a few
times.  We've talked, but I've been really confused about whether to give
it another go or not.  I got talking to Andrew after the Christmas service
and he could tell I had something on my mind, and he offered to talk things
through with me. That's it, Ty.  He's a great guy and he hasn't even looked
at me the wrong way.  He's just been there for me and he's listened and
he's given me advice.  And yes I eventually told Mike.  I would have told
you both, but I hate being in the same state with you at the moment, let
alone the same room.  It's time you just fucking backed off and let me live
my own life.  I'm an adult now in case you hadn't fucking noticed."

The two brothers stared each other down for a few seconds before Scott spun
on his heels and stomped back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Ty," I began ...

"You knew about Simon too?  And you didn't tell me?  Fuck me dead, I've
kind of become superfluous in this family since you wormed your way in," he
snarled, before picking up his keys.

As he started for the back door, I followed and lightly grabbed his
shoulder, but he spun back towards me.  "Please Ty, can't we ..."

That's as far as I got.  I knew I'd caught him off guard, but as he spun
around my world went into slow motion.  I saw his arm rise, I saw a fist
hurtling towards me and I felt the pain as it connected with my jaw.  I
heard a snap as my body reeled backwards and my head hit the cupboard, and
then I tasted my own blood.

Ty stood shaking in front of me, half defiant and half like a deer caught
in headlights.  I put my hand over my mouth and gently felt my jaw as he
walked shakily from the kitchen back to his car.  I stood at the sink and
used a wash cloth to mop up the blood running down my chin and my shirt.
Through the window I could see Ty slumped across his steering wheel for a
few moments before he started the car and roared off.

As I spat blood into the sink, I spotted a broken bottom eye tooth.  With
my tongue I felt where it had snapped, and I picked up the broken half and
put it in my pocket.  Sitting at the table with a handkerchief, I realised
my bottom lip was also cut.

My head was reeling and I was having trouble comprehending what had just
happened.  I had wanted Ty to sit down and talk to me, but he'd lashed out
and punched me in the mouth, breaking a tooth in the process.  Fuck!  He'd
punched me!

I was still mopping up blood when Scott suddenly strolled into the kitchen.
He took one look at me and gasped, "What the fuck?  Did Ty do that?  Jesus,
there's blood everywhere!  Are you OK?"

"I'm OK," I said, but when I looked at him face-on, he realised I had a
split lip and when I tried to smile, he noticed the broken tooth.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed.  "Did you smack him back?"

"It all happened so quickly.  I didn't have time to do anything ..."

"This is like ... so wrong, Mike.  And it's not like Ty.  He never does
this sort of shit ..."

"Well he did this time, mate!" I smiled wanly.

"You need to get that mouth looked at.  I'll drive you to the dentist," he
said, grabbing his keys.

"No mate," I assured him.  "I'm OK.  It's only a flesh wound!"

"Come on Mike, you've gotta see someone about it."

"Seriously Scott," I cautioned.  "I'm OK.  Just leave me alone for a while,
I can clean myself up."

"Are you going to just let him get away with this Mike?" Scott asked, his
face a picture of disbelief.

"Just drop it Scott, please," I insisted.  "I'll be fine.  I just need to
clean up."

I gave him a quick hug as I walked past him and down the hall to the
bathroom.  Closing the door, I took a glass, filled it with warm water and
rinsed my mouth several times, alarmed at the amount of blood I was
spitting.  I used a mouth wash several times before the bleeding stopped.
I dabbed my cut lip with antiseptic and panted my way through the sting.

I sat on the toilet lid and leaned back into the cistern, trying to work
out my next move.  I thought about my best course of action for some time
before I made a decision.

I walked out of the bathroom and down to the bedroom I'd been sharing with
Ty.  I closed the door, grabbed my suitcase from the wardrobe and started
to pack.  Before shutting down my laptop, I jumped online and booked the
first available ticket from Brisbane to Sydney.  There was one flight -
departing in four hours and the seat was in Economy.  I paid for the
ticket, logged off, checked my wallet, keys and phone, and wheeled my
suitcase through the house and out to my hire car.

I was tempted to just drive off but I couldn't leave Scott worrying about
where I'd gone.  I strode back into the house and he walked into the lounge
room at the same time I did.

"I was wondered where you were?" he sighed, relieved.

"Mate," I began, before realising I was lost for words.  "Come here."

Scott walked towards me and I held out open arms for him to sink into.  I
kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back before pulling back and
looking him in the eyes.

"Scott, the best thing for me at the moment is to not be here," I started.

"You CAN'T leave!" Scott exclaimed.  "Ty has to face up to what he's done
..."

"Scott," I soothed.  "I'm doing what's right given the situation.  Yes,
something has to be done about this but I'm not going to deal with it here,
not with your parents arriving back soon after their first holiday in
years, and Lachlan and Ellie about to come home from their honeymoon.  It's
just not fair to have them all back home and having all this dropped on
them.  I'll just cut out now and go back home."

"Please don't go!" Scott pleaded, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I have to Scott," I sighed.  "I need you to do something for me.  I would
never encourage you to lie to your family, but I want you to promise me
that you'll tell them when they all get home that I had an emergency at the
office and was required back in Sydney immediately.  Please Scott?"

"I want to tell them that Ty's been treating you like shit and giving me
grief and that he punched you in the face and broke your tooth ..."

"Promise me you won't do that mate?" I urged.

"OK Mike," he reneged, tears filling his eyes.

"Mate," I said.  "I hate to walk out and leave you, especially when you're
trying to work out what you need to do with your own life.  Just remember,
the answer's never outside mate, it's inside.  My heart's telling me that
removing myself from the picture is the best thing for me right now.  You
need to look inside, and ask yourself whether getting back with Simon is
right for you. Andrew Wall can't tell you.  Ty can't.  I can't.  Only your
heart can."

I gave him a hug, kissed him on the top of the head and then lifted his
chin so he was facing me.  "See ya soon!" I whispered.

I picked up my luggage and walked out through the door, down the stairs to
my car.  Scott had followed and stood on the verandah, visibly upset.  I
felt like crying myself.  I started the engine, and before I did the U-
turn that would take me to the road, I wound down the window and called out
to Scott, "I love ya, mate!"

How I wished it didn't have to be this way, but I had to get out of
Stanthorpe ...

**********

I was knackered by the time I dropped the hire car off at the airport and
made my way to the terminal.  I took my place in the slow lane, got through
security and was then faced with sitting in the departure lounge aware of
how unkempt I probably looked, and clearly the recent recipient of a smack
in the mouth.

I was waiting for the flight to be called.  Opposite me was a fellow
passenger passing the time by absentmindedly turning the pages of the
latest issue of `Weekender'.  While he was holding the magazine up, I
mindlessly read the cover and spotted the tease `Celebrity Siblings:
including Natalie and Antonia Kidman & Tyson, Lachlan and Scott Hill'.  He
looked at me strangely when I said "could I just look at your magazine very
quickly?", but he handed it to me all the same.

I flicked through to find a double page spread of Ty and his brothers; one
full page of them in their dressed- up gear and several photos on the other
page of them as farm boys.  I handed the magazine back to it owner and he
went back to reading the horoscope.

When the flight was called, I sat back and waited for almost everyone else
to board before getting up.  As I wandered through the rows of lounge seats
I noticed a copy of the previous week's `Telegraph' which someone had
discarded before the flight.  On the cover was a huge photograph taken at
Lachlan and Ellie's wedding, with a smaller inset photo of Ty.  The
headline read `Tyson On Hand As War Survivor Brother Ties The Knot' and a
cover line pointed to a larger spread inside.

I snatched it up and put it under my arm until I was on board and buckled
up.  As the hostess went through her safety spiel, I flicked through the
newspaper and found the full page report of Lachlan and Ellie's wedding.
The slant of the article was as I'd expected it would be ... an injured
Aussie soldier marries the pregnant love of his life and his rock star
brother serenades them ... a few quotes about Matthew Burgess and Rodney
Maguire ... and more about Ty.

The accompanying photos showed Ellie and Frank about to walk down the
aisle, the boys waiting at the altar, Ty singing `The Wedding Song', Ty
accompanying Lachlan while he sang `Mama', Ty dancing with his mother, and
a shot of the whole bridal party.

I must have been studying the page for a long time.  The chubby girl
squeezed into the seat next to me leaned over slightly and said, "You think
he woulda married her if he hadn't knocked her up?"

I was taken aback, but managed to reply, "They look pretty happy in these
photos."

"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed.  "But if you were marrying into that
family, you'd be going for Tyson wouldn't you?"

"You reckon?" I asked.

"God yeah!" she laughed.  "He can park his boots under my bed any time he
likes!"

"Well, I hear he's single so you could be in with a chance!"

I folded the newspaper up and placed it in the seat-back compartment,
before terminating any further discussion by putting on my headphones and
closing my eyes as the news headlines were read.

No priority luggage for Mike this time!  I waited an eternity at the
carousel for my cases and finally jumped in my car and started driving
towards Point Piper, stopping on the way to pick up some Malaysian takeaway
and a bottle of wine.  Walking through the front door, a shiver ran through
me when I realised that I didn't feel as if I was returning `home'.

It was much later after I'd eaten and was sitting on the balcony nursing a
glass of wine that I realised I hadn't switched my phone back on after the
flight.  I'd missed two or three calls from Scott and one from George, but
Ty hadn't called me.  I sent texts back assuring them I was OK and letting
them know I would be having an early night.

I switched the phone off, watched the evening news and climbed into bed
where for several hours I tossed and turned, dealing with anger and sadness
in equal measure.  I eventually fell into a fitful sleep and woke late in
the morning, feeling like shit.

I sat around drinking coffee until I had the energy to face the day.  I
shaved and made myself look as respectable as I could, showered and
dressed, and then sat in the lounge and gave some serious thought to my
next move.  I knew I had to talk to someone ... but who?

As a lawyer it was difficult for me to accept that I was the one needing
counsel, but through a process of elimination it dawned on me that there
was only one person I could turn to in a crisis.  New Zealand was two hours
ahead, so it wasn't an unreasonable time to call.  I picked up my mobile
phone and dialed.

"Hello Dad?  It's Mike!" I tried to enthuse.

"Michael!  Son, it's good to hear from you!  How are things?"

"I'm good Dad, how are you?"

"I'm great Mike.  Still got a bit of a problem with the arthritis and the
doctor reckons my blood pressure's a bit high, but I'm not complaining."

"Dad," I said quietly.  "I'm not so good, actually.  I need to talk to you.
Is now a good time?"

"What's wrong, Michael?" he asked, the worry evident in his voice.

"I just need to talk to someone Dad, and this is not something you're gonna
want to hear I guess.  But there's nobody else who'll be honest with me
like I know you will be ..."

"Are you in trouble son?"

"No Dad," I assured him.  "I'm just troubled."

And for the next 30 minutes I blurted everything out, as Dad listened in
silence.  He knew I was gay and he accepted it, but he had never wanted to
know any details. He knew about Aaron but had never met him or even asked
about him.  He knew I had sex with men, but he'd always chosen to focus on
the success of my career and not the intimate minutiae of my sex life.

I started by telling him that I'd been in a relationship with Ty for more
than a year.

"You don't mean that rock singer?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, the very same, Dad."

"They play his stuff on the radio here all the time!" he exclaimed.  "I
think Kitty's got one of his CDs.  In the magazines here they reckon he's
beating the chicks off with a stick!"

"That's just media hype, Dad," I sighed.

I told him how I came to meet Ty, the wonderfully happy times we'd spent
together and the deep love we'd experienced – without sparing him the
details of how explosive our sex life had been - knowing well he couldn't
quite grasp it.  To his credit, he didn't gag.

I told him what had happened in recent days and I chokingly admitted that I
was now an emotional wreck with no idea of what to do.

For the next 30 minutes I listened as my Dad shared his thoughts.  Ten
minutes of it, of course, was the preface about how he really didn't
understand how I'd turned out gay, and how he needed reassurance that it
wasn't anything he'd done.  He was relieved when I assured him that he'd
been a great Dad and that I was very happy living my life as a gay man.
For the remaining 20 minutes, he talked me through the best advice he'd
given me in more than 30 years.

I thanked him for his patience and understanding, and he ended the
conversation telling me he loved me, something he'd rarely said even though
I knew it was true.  In doing so, he gave me the strength to move forward.

That night and all the next day I stayed in bed with the television on,
just for noise.  Sometimes I lay on my back with my hands behind my head,
remembering good stuff.  Other times, I curled up in a ball and fought back
tears as I reminded myself of the bad stuff.  I dozed on and off for more
than 30 hours.

It was only on the second morning that I awoke with any sense of clarity.
Dad, I decided, was right; relationships have their ups and downs but the
first act of physical violence is the First Bad Sign.  I knew he was right.
"And don't forget son," he'd cautioned.  "A leopard doesn't change its
spots ..."

**********

In boxers and a tee shirt I sat on the kitchen balcony – the site of so
many amazingly happy memories – with coffee and toast, gazing out the
sea and steeling myself for the days ahead.  I turned on my mobile and
flicked through the many messages; all of them I expected, but the one I
wished for most wasn't there.

I washed my dishes and put them away and then walked into the bedroom and
pulled two big suitcases from the closet.  I opened them and placed them on
the bed and then set about packing my clothes and my personal belongings.

I was doing pretty well.  I was foggily indifferent as I folded the
tee-shirt Ty had given me for Christmas – emblazoned with the lyric of
"Until You Came Along" – and sighed when I packed the many items of my
clothing that Ty had borrowed and worn so often.

It was only when I opened the bottom drawer of our dresser and was
confronted with our Batman and Robin costumes that I finally lost it.  I
sat on our bed and wept.  With my head in my hands, I cried it out for a
long, long time.  I choked with the sadness of what was actually happening
and allowed myself a rare foray into self- pity, a luxury someone with my
legally trained mind seldom gave into.

I eventually pulled myself together, gathered various knickknacks and
objets d'art and packed them in the car.  My furniture from Melbourne and
other items I'd bought for the house could stay.

I made a quick call to my dentist and arranged an appointment for the
following morning before scrounging around in the drawers until I found a
cigarette.  I smoked it as I sat on the balcony and called Adam, the real
estate agent who'd found us the Point Piper property.  I was reminded why I
didn't smoke as I coughed and spluttered my way through the call, but it
ended with Adam in no doubt that he needed to pull a rabbit out of a hat
for me – and fast.

I found the strength to walk around the house Ty and I had called home for
so long, making sure it was secure.  I stood in the lounge room and looked
at our view one more time and then turned, picked up my cases, and walked
through the front door without looking back.

Rather than be obvious and stay at the Intercontinental, I checked into
Sheraton on the Park, one of the few top Sydney hotels Ty and I hadn't
stayed in so far.  I unpacked my cases and headed to the nearest shopping
arcade.  I found a Telstra shop and bought a new mobile phone, and
registered a new number.  Back at the hotel, I transferred the address book
from my business phone to my new personal phone before disabling it and
packing it a small box.

Using the new phone, I called Adam and left the number, and then phoned the
office and asked for Max.  He wasn't at his desk so I got his crusty old
secretary Trish to pencil in his diary a meeting with me for 1pm.  That
gave me enough time to make a few calls to alter billing addresses, to
notify the post office of a redirection, and to order a small salad for
lunch.

At 12.30 I took a slow stroll through the city streets to my office, making
sure I was there right on one to avoid getting caught in conversation with
any colleagues.  I was shown straight to Max's empty office.  Trish told me
Max was just finishing up in the boardroom and would be with me soon.  I
was surprised when she offered me a cup of tea, even more so when she
sniffed the air and said, "What cologne are you wearing?  It's nice."

I laughed.  "I'd like to say Viktor & Rolf, but I think it's a combination
of Manuka honey soap and body odour!"

Max appeared in the doorway and also declined the offer of tea.  He closed
the door and sat behind his desk, shuffled some papers and then looked at
me.  "You don't look so good!" he smiled.

"Yeah, haven't shaved and haven't slept so well."

"Best case scenario?  You're here to ask for a raise, to finally be paid
what you're worth?"

I sighed and pulled the envelope from my back pocket.  "Worst case
scenario," I replied, tossing it on the desk, "I'm tendering my
resignation."

The lawyer in me desperately wanted to see the looked that registered on
Max's face, but I couldn't eyeball him.  I had my eyes focused on the edge
on the desk in front of me.  I must have been holding my breath because
when Max spoke, I exhaled sharply.

"You can't resign!" he exclaimed.  "You're the blue-eyed boy.  If this is a
roundabout way of asking for a raise, you can have it.  How much do you
want?"

"This isn't about money Max," I sighed, finally looking him in the eyes.
"I just can't do this right now.  I need to just ... lick my wounds."

"It's your personal life, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"When we had dinner I asked about it and you said everything was fine."

"I lied."

"You lied to me?"

"I'm a lawyer."

"And a bloody good one!" he chuckled.  "Seeing this is about your personal
life, can I ask you a personal question?"

I pondered.  "I guess so," I said.

"It's Tyson Hill isn't it?"

I think I stopped breathing for a while, like sleep apnea without the
sleep.  "What on earth makes you think that?"

"Well, let's see?  You remember the Christmas party when you turned up with
Tyson Hill?  You went in opposite directions as soon as you walked through
the door but all through the night, you could barely take your eyes off one
another. And then you both just ... disappeared."

"I was a lawyer looking out for his client," I replied indignantly.

"A lawyer flirting with this client, I'd say," Max smirked.  "And the
client was guilty of mentally undressing his lawyer from across the room."

I felt embarrassed.  All I could think of to say was, "Making assumptions
isn't like you, Max.  In the gay community, they'd call that gaydar."

Max folded his hands in front of himself on the desk and thought for a
moment.  He looked up and said, "I should probably tell you something
Mike."

"Sure."

"Remember that time in the kitchen in the Melbourne office not long after
you started, when we were talking about your dirty weekend?"

"Yeah," I chuckled at the memory.  "You said `I hope you left him a
quivering mess!'"

"Well it was me who left the kitchen a quivering mess."

"What?"

"I realised you'd found someone, which meant I didn't stand a chance."

"What??"

"When you joined the firm, I thought you were the most gorgeous guy I'd
ever laid eyes on, and you were always so friendly.  I created this little
fantasy in my head that if I played it cool you might look at me twice ..."

"Are you serious?" I asked, my hand over my mouth.  "You were married and
the girls and ..."

"My marriage ended because I finally confronted who I really am."

"Max," I stumbled, "I never knew ... I mean, it never ..."

"Hey, it's OK," he laughed.  "That was a long time ago, and I grew up
enough to know that nothing could ever happen between us.  All these years
later I feel a bit like your Work Dad.  As well as you being a valued
employee, I want you to be a happy man, because you deserve it."

I could only shake my head.  "Max," I started.  "I ... I don't know what to
say.  This is ... wow, this is a head fuck ..."

"Let's go have lunch?"

"It's almost 2pm."

"Well, a late lunch then!" Max laughed.  "You're probably hungry.  You've
only had a salad."

I looked at him in disbelief.  "How do you know that?" I asked.

"Spinach," he smirked.  "Between your upper fourth and fifth ..."

**********

Max grabbed his keys and wallet and before we left the office he made sure
I noticed him dropping my resignation into his wastepaper bin.  He steered
me through the office and out into bustling Elizabeth Street.  We walked in
silence to George Street, and once again stood waiting for a table at the
Glass Brasserie in The Hilton.

Seated, Max asked me what I felt like eating.  I stared at the menu for a
while but couldn't seem to focus on it.  "Tell you what, I'll order," Max
said as he called the waiter over.  He asked for roasted lamb rack with
gnocchi to share.  When he ordered a 2005 Craggy Range New Zealand Shiraz,
I realised this was a serious business lunch.

We remained silent while the waiter poured our wine and it was only when he
moved away from the table that Max spoke.  "What's with the lip?"

I shrugged.  "I threw myself in front of a fist," I said.

"He hit you?"

I felt momentarily embarrassed and could only nod.

"That's not good, Mike," Max replied, shaking his head.  "Not good at all.
I know this is hard for you son, but it's time to talk.  And I'm a great
listener."

I sipped my wine quietly for a minute or two, as I struggled with whether
opening up to my boss was a wise thing to do.  But fuck it, Max had always
done the right thing by me, and I really did need to unburden myself, if
for no other reason than to hope someone else might make some sense of what
had suddenly turned my life upside down.

I leaned in closer to Max, drew a breath, and told him everything, right
from the very start.  I spared him most of the sexual detail but shared
with him more of the business side of our shared relationship than I had
with my Dad, knowing that Max understood it and was privy to all of it
anyway.

A couple of time I stopped and breathed through the threatened tears as I
was reminded of the idyllic side of my life with Ty.  God bless Max.  He
didn't sympathise or console.  He just maintained his serious but friendly
face and waited for the right moment to encourage me to "go on", as I'd
seen him do so often with clients.

By the time I filled him in on the events of the last few days, Max had
finished his meal and mine had barely been touched.  Max looked at me for a
while and then said "Eat!"

"You don't have anything to say?"

"You need to eat."

"I'm not really hungry."

"You eat, I'll talk."

I sighed, picked up my fork and speared a piece of gnocchi.  Max waited
until he was convinced I was going to eat my half of a hellishly expensive
meal before he shared his thoughts.  For 20 minutes he succinctly analyzed
his take on my relationship with Ty.  He was completely on top of the
professional side of Ty's unhappiness; as an entertainment lawyer he'd seen
all this before.  But his personal concern was for my welfare.

Having acknowledged that I really was hungry, I made quick work of the lamb
as Max concluded his observations.

"I'm not going to give you advice, Mike," he said.  "You're a smart boy.
Your ability to work it out is why I hired you.  And you need time to work
it out, which is why I'm not accepting your resignation.  I'm going to give
you three months suspended leave."

"No Max," I protested.  "I'm no good for the company at the moment.  I'm so
grateful for everything you've done for me, but it's wrong for me to keep
taking advantage of your kindness and the company's tolerance."

"Unless you've got another job that you haven't told me about," Max
responded, "you may as well accept the offer.  You won't be paid for 12
weeks, but you'll still be employed.  Trust me son, it's a lot better than
the alternative."

"Thanks Max," I said sincerely.  "No guarantees though.  I don't know what
I want to do at the moment."

"You'll call me any time you need to talk?"

"You bet," I smiled.  I reached into my jacket pocket, extracted the box
containing the company's mobile phone and handed it to Max.

"You can have the phone!" he laughed.

"I can't deal with all the calls I'm gonna get about this," I implored.
"You take it. I got a new phone today."

"I'll need the new number."

"You won't give it to anyone will you?"

"Of course not!  Where are you living?"

"I'm staying at the Sheraton, but I've got an agent finding me a serviced
apartment."

"Can you afford that?"

"Yes Max," I chucked.

"You can come and stay at my place if you like," Max offered.  "No strings
or anything.  Just somewhere to stay."

I was genuinely touched.  "Thanks mate, but I earn more than two hundred
thousand dollars a year plus bonuses, Max.  I think I can afford a serviced
apartment."

"You do what's right for you Mike," Max smiled.  "I need to know where
you're living.  I'll deal with the calls to your work mobile and if there's
something you should know I'm going to tell you.  I'll give you all the
time you need, but you're not going to stick your head in the sand."

"I've got a dental appointment tomorrow and then I'll come by the office
and sign a salary waiver.  But, er ...  who's going to take over as Ty's
legal counsel?  He could be headed for major trouble with the record
company ..."

"Leave it to me," Max cut in, holding up his hand.  "I'll take over.  Don't
worry, I'll get the contractual stuff sorted."

Max settled the bill and as we left the restaurant, I felt a huge sense of
relief.  We walked in silence back to the company car park and as we got to
my car, I couldn't resist.  "The most gorgeous guy you'd ever laid eyes
on?" I smirked.  "Really?"

"You bet!" Max smiled back.  "But that was then.  These days you're all
grown up, not the cute little twink you were then!  Besides, you mightn't
think so now, but you're in love."

I did something I'd never done before; I hugged Max.  "Thank you, Max.
Thanks for everything."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he shrugged.  "And by the way, you need to shave.
Your face is too handsome for whiskers!"

**********

Spilling my guts about everything that had been happening between Ty and me
had left me drained. As soon as I was back in my hotel room I showered and
climbed into bed.  I started watching an episode of N.C.I.S.  but gave in
to sleep before the first commercial break.  I woke at three in the
morning, the television still flickering in the room.  I took a leak,
turned off the TV, and slept for another four hours.

I woke feeling sad, but managed to perform the basic morning tasks
... shit, shower and shave followed by a light breakfast.

I took a call from my real estate broker Adam, who happily let me know he'd
found me a one bedroom serviced apartment in Castlereagh Street in the
heart of the city.  It met all my requirements – windows that open,
heating and air-conditioning, shower and bath, security entrance and
off-street parking.

"So what's happening with the Point Piper place?" Adam asked.

"The guy I was sharing with is still there," I said quickly.  "For work
reasons I need to be in the city."

I arranged with Adam to inspect the apartment later in the day.  In the
likely event I'd be happy with it – Adam certainly knew how to give his
clients what they were looking for – I wanted to allow enough time to do
some grocery shopping.

I took a casual stroll through the city to the World Tower and took the
elevator to Mr. Hoffman's rooms.  Funny, he had been my dentist for the
entire time I'd lived in Sydney, and he was the only man I ever addressed
formally.  Everyone did, even his oral hygienist and his receptionist.

I took a seat and thumbed through the latest `Men's Health' magazine until
I was called.  Mr. Hoffman was all smiles and after we shook hands he
remarked that it had only been three months since my last checkup.

"I'm not here for a checkup," I smiled.  "I had a bit of an accident."  I
pulled my lip out and let him see my broken tooth.  At the same time I
reached into my pocket and pulled out the piece that had broken off, and
handed it to him.

He chuckled.  "When someone loses a finger in an accident it's useful to
pack the severed digit in ice and take it to the hospital immediately," he
said seriously, "but we tend not to just glue teeth back together."

I felt ridiculous.  The hygienist took my jacket and then clipped a
serviette around my neck.  Mr. Hoffman poked and prodded around in my mouth
for a few minutes, saying "hmmm" every now again.  He eventually told me to
sit up and rinse as he took his rubber gloves off.

He sat on a stool next to me and explained that the eye tooth had been
snapped by considerable force (tell me about it!) and that the tooth was a
little loose.  I had two options.  A crown would do the job but the tooth
would continue to loosen and I would probably get only two or three years
benefit from it instead of ten years.  Alternatively I could have an
implant, which would likely do me for life.

I asked about the cost difference and when I realised what an implant would
set me back, I whistled.  "Does it have a Cartier diamond in it?" I asked.
The oral hygienist giggled.

"Just as well I've got top dental cover," I said.

"I should warn you Mr Stewart, very little will be covered by your health
fund.  You'll get probably 20 percent of it back."

I sighed.  "Well, as long as you can guarantee I'll still have my smile, I
guess I'm saying yes!"

Again the oral hygienist giggled.  "Yes, Mr Stewart," she beamed, "you'll
still have that cute smile!"

I had a momentary thought I'd probably be quite successful at picking up
girls, and that made me think of Dad and how pleased he'd be!

"When can you do it?"

"I can do the x-rays and take a model of your bite straight away, and then
you'll need two visits for the surgery.  You can make the appointments with
Mrs Faraday.  Space them a week apart."

The preliminary work was done and a couple of hundred dollars later, I was
back on Liverpool Street.  I had time to kill so I found a busy patisserie,
ordered a coffee and flicked through some tabloids.  `Famous' magazine
probably wasn't the wisest choice.  Pages eight and nine were a pinup of Ty
and a story about how wary he was of committing to a deep and loving
relationship because he couldn't be sure if the girl was interested in the
`real' Ty, or just the trappings of his astonishing success.

All of a sudden I felt sad again.  I settled the bill and strolled to the
office.  Once again, Max was in meetings, but his secretary Trish let me
read and sign the paperwork in his office.  I was stopped by two colleagues
before I was able to leave the building.

I grabbed a cab to the apartment building in Castlereagh Street where I'd
arranged to meet with Adam and, arriving a little early, I did a quick
reconnoiter of the city block, to work out where everything was if I agreed
to take the apartment.

I arrived back at the building just as Adam was walking up the front steps.
He checked his phone as we rode the elevator to the 15th floor and he
fumbled with his key in the door of apartment 1512.

It wasn't Point Piper, but I was impressed.  It was clean, newly painted
and carpeted.  The bedroom was roomy with a small balcony and the bathroom
was more modern than I expected.  The kitchen and lounge rooms were well
equipped and tastefully furnished, and it was set up for cable television
and fast speed internet.

I told Adam I'd take it, and asked what the lease terms were.  Minimum
three months, maximum twelve he told me.  Not having any idea what the
future held for me, I opted for the minimum term of three months, hoping
that if I wished to extend, the fact the rent was paid and the apartment
was well looked after, the owner would be happy.

We arranged to sign the lease first thing the next morning, and I decided
I'd grocery shop then, after I'd moved my luggage from the hotel.

I bought a bottle of wine, some cheese, grapes and olives and returned to
my hotel room where I indulged my taste buds at the same time as I immersed
myself in two back-to-back `latest releases' from the in-house movie menu.

In the hour between the second movie finishing and the start of the late
news, I had a bath, and ordered some vegetable noodles from room service.

I'd kept myself busy all day but now, with a full stomach and nothing but
doom and gloom on the news, I found myself thinking of Ty; what was he
doing, how was he feeling, did he miss me as much as I missed him?

I turned the television off, curled into a ball under the doona and
wallowed for a while until, with a movie reel of the magic moments we'd
shared playing in my head, I fell asleep.

**********

As I lay on my back in the early morning quiet, it finally hit me that I
wasn't leaving a hotel today and going home.  I was leaving a hotel and
moving into an apartment by myself.

The `pause' button on the remote control of my life had been pushed and I
was in limbo.  I thought it through again.  I'd been shut down by Ty, I'd
walked away from his family without any kind of goodbye and I had no income
for the time being.  Way to go Mike!

I willed myself to remain positive and got up, showered and dressed.  I
repacked my suitcases ready to move out of the hotel and into my new place,
and then hit the street and headed to the nearest coffee shop for an
espresso and a croissant.

Ready to face the day, I walked to Adam's office, signed the lease, paid my
bond and all of the rent in advance and took possession of the keys.  Adam
walked me to the door and we shook hands.

Ten minutes later I grabbed a trolley and strolled into the supermarket,
trying not to be daunted by what I needed to buy.  I was effectively
starting from scratch.  I did the cleaning products first, then the
bathroom stuff, and then food and drinks.  It felt strange to be buying
beer at ten in the morning but I wanted it handy in case it was needed.

I paid for my groceries and then struggled to carry everything back to the
apartment.  I opened the door and walked in, dropping the bags of groceries
on the couch.  I opened the curtains and a couple of windows, and turned on
the radio for noise.  I moved the shopping bags to the kitchen, quickly put
away the perishables, and then took a brisk walk back to the hotel where I
grabbed my luggage and checked out.  It was too difficult contemplating
walking with three suitcases so I convinced a cabbie to drive me the short
distance to my apartment.

I had barely opened the cases and lined them up in my bedroom than my new
mobile rang, making me jump.  I briefly wondered if my number was no in
circulation, but was relieved when I looked at the screen.

"Hey Max!" I smiled.  "I'm just unpacking at the apartment."

"It's not Max, it's Trish.  Max needs to meet with you urgently.  He wants
you to meet him for lunch at Veranda on Elizabeth Street at 12.30."

"Oh.  I guess ... um, can I speak to him Trish?"

"He's doing a mediation at the moment.  He just said to say he'll meet you
there, and to stress that it's very urgent."

"OK Trish, thanks. I'll be there."

I hung up and my stomach sank, but I reasoned my way through the panic.  If
it really bad news, Max would speak to me face-to-face, not have his
secretary call me.  So that was a relief.  I knew nothing bad had happened
to Ty.

I looked at the oven clock, quickly changed from jeans and sneakers into
pants, shirt and jacket and good shoes, and made my way to Verandah.

I knew not to expect a disaster, but I was still feeling unsettled.  When
Max says something's urgent, it's usually not a good thing ...

**********

Always happy to have your feedback.  marcusis32@live.com.au