Date: Sat, 3 Apr 2004 17:59:14 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 22 of "The Crew"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you are offended
by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it is not
allowed, please depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about
yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.
EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 22
Accountings

After breakfast with Max and Kenji, Hal had driven home to shower and
change into work clothes.  He'd hopped back into his pick up and was making
his way to the Haynes home with Jimmy sitting in the passenger seat, taking
in the passing scenery.  Jimmy had startled them all early that morning when
he'd pulled back the sheet and nipped Max on his butt.  Max had rolled over,
expecting to see Kenji trying to wake him up.  When he saw Jimmy, he just
grinned, remembering Hal's account about how Jimmy awakened him in the
morning for his "business" walk.  Max arose.

Kenji rolled over, a confused, sleepy look at his face.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.  My buddy just needs to take a walk," Max answered as he pulled
on a tee and cut-offs, sliding his feet into sandals.  It secretly delighted Max
that Jimmy had chosen him as his walking companion.  As they walked along
through the neighborhood, Max would comment from time to time to Jimmy
about something they were seeing.  Panting as he trotted along, Jimmy would
look up, his eyes shining.  Occasionally, he'd venture off, following the trail
of some scent.  When Max finally started walking on, Jimmy would bound
away to catch up with Max.  The last block, Jimmy stopped, pawing the air,
begging to be picked up.  Max cradled him in his arms.  Jimmy put his head
back on Max's bicep, basking in the big guy's attention, allowing him to carry
him home, feeling totally loved and dreaming dog dreams.

Hal's evening with Kenji and Max had turned out to be way more than just
dining with friends although that alone would have been enough to mitigate
the loneliness and guilt - at least for a while.  Those hours with Kenji and
Max affected him more than he'd ever have thought possible.  He'd expected
to be reminded of losing the two former lovers and Brett.  He was surprised at
the peace that came from reconnecting intimately with Max, his first lover
among the crew.  Max's kisses and caresses had momentarily driven away the
fog of failure that Hal had drawn down on his life.  Making love to Max had
taken him back to the early days of Winston Construction Company, a
simpler, more innocent time, full of promise and hope.  Joining with Kenji had
reminded him of how incredibly satisfying it was to make love to and hold
someone smaller.  Sighing, he decided that in some ways he'd never grow
beyond Richie and his days in the orphanage.

More than that, Max and Hal's simultaneous fuck of Kenji had left an imprint
of healing, cleansing, and fulfilling intimacy on his soul.  As their combined
seed flowed into Kenji, they were bathing their young lover in acceptance,
allowing him to forgive himself.  The intensity, passion, and yet sweetness of
their joining called forth memories of when he had loved Drew - until Brett
came along, that is.  He snorted in anger - at himself for believing he could
turn time back to his days with Richie, at his loss of control, at his treatment
of Drew, at Brett for being a two-timer.

After the three-way, Hal couldn't get Drew out of his mind.  He relived the
days they had been together, especially the crew's helping him connect with
Drew.  He even chuckled, remembering the pile-up on the track at Murphy's
Gym.  He rather frantically kept pushing away images of his cock buried in
Brett's golden ass, images that persistently tried to control his mental field.
It told him that his Richie/Brett addiction hadn't entirely passed.  Would he
take Brett back if he presented himself to Hal?  Then his memory flashed an
image of Drew with the big guy at The Iron Lock, and his spirits plummeted.  Hal
didn't miss the fact that Drew had even taken an unprecedented step in that
direction by seeking out a gay bar by himself.  The old Drew would never
have done that alone.  Hal knew somewhere deep inside that every passing
day without his reclaiming Drew made it easier for Drew to get over him, to
reject him, to give himself to someone else - a look-alike of Hal, like the
brute at the bar.  Meaning that it was Hal himself that Drew was really seeking.
The realization warmed Hal's heart - and chilled his soul.  If Drew found a
satisfactory Hal stand-in, it was all over for Hal himself.

Weary of that emotional loop, Hal remembered Angie's encouraging him to
get Drew back by offering him more than he'd taken from him.  How could he
do that?  Hal realized there was no gesture that could now substitute for the
words that needed to come from him to balance those that he'd thrown in
Drew's face.  He just didn't have them.  A mere "I'm sorry" wouldn't do.  It
would sound phony - as though all he had to do was pitch that common
expression in Drew's lap, and he would immediately come round.  'What are
the words?' he asked desperately.  'There are plenty of words.  Which ones
will mean something to Drew, convey to him how much I need him?  Keep
me from sounding like a phony?'  He softly pounded his right fist into the
steering wheel.  Jimmy's head shot around to check the noise out.

Upon arriving at the trailer office, Hal opened the door softly because his
namesake might be asleep.  Jimmy preceded Hal in the door, walking over for
a pat from Angie, who was sitting at her desk working.  She smiled at Hal,
who raised his eyes with a question.  Jimmy didn't wait for an answer.  He'd
already raised his nose in the air, reading the scents.  "Little Hal is sleeping
in your office," she answered.  Jimmy was already trotting into Hal's office to
check on his little buddy, his claws ticky-tacking on the tiled floor.

The first time Jimmy saw Hal holding his namesake and cuddling him, Jimmy
let out a little woof.  Hal recognized the Green-eyed Monster lurking behind
that "Woof!"  He carefully knelt, then sat on the floor.  He called Jimmy to
him.  Rather than his usual trot, Jimmy ambled over to Hal, standing a bit
away.  Hal kissed Little Hal and then he leaned way over and kissed Jimmy.
He pronounced his own name, pointing at himself, then the baby's name.
Then he pointed alternately at the baby and Jimmy and then back at himself,
saying "My boys."  Jimmy moved forward, crawling up on Hal's feet and
knees to look down at the baby in Hal's arms as though he were really studying
him for the first time.  Jimmy lowered his head to sniff gently at the baby,
raised his head to look at Hal, who smiled, saying, "My boys."  Jimmy then
lowered his head to lick delicately at the baby's cheek.  From that point on,
if Little Hal were sleeping, Jimmy lay down by his infant seat, sometimes dozing
himself.  At the least whimper from the baby, Jimmy would spring up and prance
to Angie's desk, whining softly that Little Hal required tending.  If Kenji were
tending to Little Hal, Jimmy dogged his steps.

"How was dinner last night?" Angie inquired nonchalantly, but Hal could tell
she'd been eagerly awaiting his arrival to find out about Kenji.  Angie and
Kenji were another of those remarkable pairings in the crew.  Though they
joked about it, they actually felt and finally accepted that they were big
sister and little brother.  If it was possible that some people should have been
born in earlier times, some of them should also have been born as siblings.
Kenji loved holding Little Hal, even changing his diaper, trying to draw a smile
from the infant.  But he was also happy with the little one's puzzled stare
when he held him.  "I'll get you to smile one of these days," Kenji said to
Little Hal.  "I'm saving my really funny faces until you are a little older and
can appreciate them."

It warmed Angie's heart to hear her little brother acknowledging her son's
importance.  Sometimes, as Kenji let his mind drift while he was holding
Little Hal, he would convince himself that he was caring for Yuki.  The rest of
the time, it felt as though he were caring for a nephew.  Bobby recognized the
connection between his wife and Kenji, promoting it himself.  The first time
he called Kenji "Little Brother-in-law," Kenji had had to fight back tears.
He'd been reminded of the loss of his family, especially Yuki.  But Bobby had
slung an arm around Kenji's thin waist, pulling him against Bobby's solid hip.
He'd even given Kenji a peck on the cheek.  Kenji threw his arm over
Bobby's shoulders.  The two guys were solid after that because they tacitly
decided they really were going to be brothers-in-law.  Angie felt that Kenji
almost filled the void left by her brother Randy's escape to Europe.

Leaving out the details about their sexual marathon, Hal related events of the
evening at Max and Kenji's to Angie.  He told her he'd accepted an invitation
to stay the night.  Her eyes twinkled.

"Did you find out what put Kenji out on the streets?"

"Yes.  I imagine, now that he's told Max and me without our stepping away
from him, he'll tell his big sister too."

"It's wonderful, isn't it Hal?  Kenji, Bobby and I were on our last leg, but you
took us in, cared for us, healed us, made us family."

"It feels like family - especially after the recent madness?" he asked almost as
though he were a wide-eyed little boy.

"All the time.  You're among the luckiest people, Hal," Angie stated.  "You
chose the members of your family.  That's why there's such harmony, peace,
and love - most of the time.  Why can't you let go of that notion that you're
no one if you weren't born into a conventional family?  At the heart of it lies
some fear of yours.  If you identify what it is, you'll be able to let go of
that illusion and completely accept YOUR family.    What IS that fear?"

Hal examined his feelings.  "I guess, never having really had or been in a
family except for Richie and the boys at the orphanage, the great fear is that I
won't be successful making one.  Look at the crew now with this divide
between Drew and me.  You're all feeling it."

"But good things have happened too.  I won't go into the details, but because
of his connection with all of you, Bobby was able to tell me about private
parts of his life before I came into it."

"You mean about Bobby and guys?"

"He told you too?" she asked, her surprise apparent.

"No."

"How did you know?"

"I didn't absolutely know.  But as I thought about it after those first nights
you two spent with Drew and me in my home, it was the only possibility that made
any sense.  Bobby was stand-offish because we were reminding him of his
earlier life, and he clearly didn't want to be reminded.  But as the evening
wore on, he loosened up.  When he became our work and gym buddy, he
didn't feel threatened anymore.  He accepted us without reservation.  So it
wasn't a gay issue."

"Bobby's always been friendly.  But after he told me about a couple of guys
he was involved with in the army and learned that I didn't think ill of him
because of it, he relaxed and really started becoming a buddy of the guys," she
explained, "and a big brother to Kenji.  None of this could have happened if
we didn't feel genuinely loved by everyone in the family, if the trust common
in a successful family wasn't there."

"Well, I destroyed whatever trust there was."

"It was more Brett than you, Hal.  Trust in you became an issue only to the
extent that you allowed Brett to run you, leaving several feeling threatened.
Some would argue that it wasn't Brett you were seeing - it was Richie.  Besides,
now that Brett is gone, I think you and the guys are centered again."

"I'm glad you think so.  I wish I were centered with Drew again.  I've been
wracking my brain, trying to think of the words to approach Drew so that he'd
allow me - just as you suggested - to give back more than I took.  But I keep
coming up empty."

"Wel-l-l-l-l, maybe that's because you haven't arrived at the proper starting
place.  Whenever I'm finding it hard to begin a process, the cause is my
choice of a starting point.  It's not the proper place to begin.  So I back up
and consider other starting points.  After that false start, I usually locate
the proper starting point on the second try."

"Meaning?"

"Maybe it isn't words you start with.  Maybe it's deeds.  You know the old
saying:  'Deeds speak louder than words.'"  Hal stared at Angie.  She could
see that he'd already listened, had an idea that he was turning over and over,
examining carefully.  A smile began to form at the edges of his mouth.
Suddenly, it was crowded out with a frown.  "Oh, that's dorky," he whispered
to himself.

"Share!" Angie demanded.

Hal frowned.  "Drew owns his home, right?  I mean he doesn't rent?"

"He owns his own home."

"Drew was always carrying on about how he wanted a sugar maple on his
property.  I believe he knows every stand of sugar maples in the city, the
parks, and the countryside around the city.  During autumn, he told me he
drives around every weekend viewing all of them in their autumn colors.  You
should hear him emote about red, gold, and orange sugar maples in autumn."

Angie smiled.  "You'd have a nursery plant a sugar maple?"

"No, I'd plant it myself - by the sweat of my brow.  I know just the place in
his backyard."  He paused.  "Oh, I know how corny and sentimental it sounds."

"When big events occur in our lives," Angie replied, "we often plant a tree to
commemorate them.  In fact, you've given me an idea:  I think we'll talk to
our parents about planting a tree in their yards for Little Hal."  Her smile
widened into a grin and then she laughed out loud.  "Sweat of your brow?
Guess that means you'd show up in work boots and cutoffs.  As the day warms,
you'll have to take your shirt off."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be expecting anything to happen.  I know Drew."

"It just might open the door a little," Angie observed.  "Drew is almost
maniacal about finding out the cause of big events, so he'd be that way with
your planting that tree.  It wouldn't be what he'd expect of you.  That alone
would jolt him out of what he's already decided about you two - and you
KNOW he's made some decision.  But he'd want some validation of his
reasoning - from the source!"

"I'll think about it," Hal said.  "I know it won't be anything more than a
beginning point.  Finding that alone would make me hopeful."

Later that day, Hal was seen huddling with Ted and Levi.  Levi left them,
walking to the trailer.  After about five minutes, he rejoined the huddle and
there were more low-voiced deliberations.  While the other crew members
monitored the exchange, they couldn't detect that Levi had called the nice
secretary in Drew's office to see when he might be tied down at work or over
lunch so that he wouldn't be returning to his home until the end of the work
day.  That way Hal could plant a tree before Drew could protest.

                         Brenden's Patio Restaurant

Plots had been hatched among the crew.  Rich and Angie had lured Drew to one of
their favorite retreats for lunch so that Hal would have an entire day to
perform his arboreal labors.  Brenden's Patio in good weather was one of the
"places to be," for the ambience was perfect.  Sunlight splashed in just the
right places, and shade pooled in nooks and crannies.  The patio was full of
shrubs and pots of flowers so that one had the sense of dining in a glade.
Though the patio accommodated a large number of diners, it seemed a hideaway in
the midst of a busy workday.  The three friends had just placed their orders.

 "Drew," Angie began, "on a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality
of Hal's contributions to your life?"

"Ten's best?" Drew asked.  She shook her head in the affirmative.  Drew
thought for probably a minute.  Rich caught Angie's eye, causing them both to
smile.  Though Drew was looking at them, he didn't note the smiles for he was
concentrating.  Their smile acknowledged what they knew:  like a bookkeeper,
Drew was weighing the positives and the negatives.  It owed to his insistence
on being fair.  "Do I subtract for the bad stuff?" he asked Angie, reclaiming
Rich's and Angie's attention.  Rich and Angie now had to fight to hide their
smiles, and they dared not look at each other or they would burst out laughing
over Drew's "accounting" behavior.

"No subtraction yet; just addition," she answered.

"Twenty-five."

Rich broke out into laughter, while Angie smiled hugely.

"What?" Drew asked Rich, his tone suggesting that he was miffed.

"One to ten, not more.  You will never allow yourself to bound by somebody
else's or the game's rules if you don't want to be, will you, Drew."

"I never have," Drew said quietly.  "Why should I be?  I'm quite capable of
deciding what's proper.  You play by somebody else's rules, you lose a lot of
the time.  Those rules are set up to favor them, often at others' expense.  Look
what happened to me with Hal.  I accommodated to his wishes entirely because I
was so flattered to be pursued by . . . such a sexy man. . . ."  He fell silent
for a bit.  "I don't often need someone setting rules for me.  Besides, in the
beginning Hal was awesome - good, kind, loving to me - a real 25."  Here Drew
tried unsuccessfully to stifle a smile.  "And he was a hot lover!"  It was the
first time Angie or Rich had heard Drew joke about Hal's and his romance.  Their
glances at each other acknowledged their joint awareness of Drew's movement
toward healing.

"On the same scale," Angie continued, "how would you rate the degree of the
bad stuff Hal has contributed to your life?"

"Fifty," Drew spat out without any preliminary thought.

"If you consider how he's acted toward you since Brett's departure, would
you stick with the same number?  Don't forget the 25 at this point."

Drew's lips pressed into a thin line, but he was thinking again, sifting,
weighing.

"He hasn't really acted any way toward me since Brett left."

"Please?" Angie asked.

"Twenty-five," Drew shot back.

"How would you rate your contribution to his life?" Angie continued.

Drew was somber.  "How do I know that?" Drew asked, irritation in his voice
detectable.  "It can't have been much.  He tossed me over in no time when
Badass Brett came along."

"Drew, please?" Angie pushed.  "Remember that as horrible as that night of
Hal's birthday surprise was for you, for all of us, he wasn't his usual self.
He was really drunk, and Brett had been working his wiles on Hal."

Drew sat thinking.  Angie saw the struggle in Drew's eyes.  His pride in being
fair was resulting in a monumental battle in his interior universe.  "Five."

'Wow,' Rich thought.  'He's being really tough on himself.'  He glanced at
Angie.  They both were harboring the same thought:  if Drew was being that
tough on himself, then they could count on his answers being sincere,
something they could build upon.

Drew finally became aware of their silent communication.  "It can't have been
more than 5 or he wouldn't have found it so easy to toss me over for Brett."

"And your rating for the bad stuff you contributed to his life?" she asked,
letting his explanation slide.

Drew looked really offended.  "Bad stuff?" he asked with attitude.  "Like what?
I almost worshipped the ground he walked on."

"Please?" Angie asked.  "You'll see how important it is."

Again, much thought.  "Couldn't be more than one."

"Now look at the numbers," Rich jumped in, double-teaming with Angie.
"What do you deduce from them?"

Drew frowned.  His quick mind had already calculated the points inviting
interpretation.  "Hal's given me immensely more than I've given him."  He
looked tartly at Angie. "He's given me five times more than what I've given
him."  Here he fixed each of his friends in a steely glare before he continued.
"And he wiped it all out two times over."

"Drew . . ." Angie broke in.

"Okay, allowances for not being himself.  I never gave him even half as much
as he gave me."

"You're being too hard on yourself, buddy," Rich observed.

Drew blew air out of his lips in frustration.  "I never hurt him anywhere as
much as he hurt me.  In fact, I can't think of a time I ever hurt him.  I didn't
ask for that treatment, you know."

"No, you didn't," Angie added.  "Brett came along at the wrong time."

"But you know, Drew," Rich added, "IF Brett hadn't come along, Hal would
still be hung up on Richie.  The same thing that happened with Hal and me
could have happened to you two.  Another way to look at it is that Hal's
attachment to Richie was still so strong that there really wasn't room for
genuine feelings for you for any length of time.  The interlude with Brett both
proved and changed that."

Angie had seen Drew's eyes reflect his realization of the truth Rich had
uttered.  'Bulls eye!' she thought, shooting Rich a look of appreciation.
"Drew, aren't you even a little interested in seeing if, now that Richie and
Brett have been vanquished, there's a chance for you and Hal?" she asked.
Drew's head reared back.  The question had caught him on the chin, so to
speak.  "If he contributed so much to you back in that troubled period," she
said, "can't he contribute just as much if not more now that the field's cleared
for you two?"

Glaring, Drew answered, "The problem with this discussion is that all the
good thoughts are coming from you two," Drew commented.  Rich and Angie
exchanged a glance, celebrating the inroads that Drew's utterance "good
thoughts" indicated they had made in his thinking.  "You're my close friends.
You're going to 'gild the lily' when you talk about Hal and me.  You also
don't run the risk - very real risks - that I face.  But there is no reason to
believe his thoughts about me - about us - even approach yours.  Remember:
I thought I KNEW how he felt about me - before that night with Brett in his
bedroom.  You can't be my friends if you ask me to walk that path again.
Besides, I can't imagine that he thinks about the two of us anymore."

Rich and Angie started responding at the same time, their replies mixing into
noise.  They stopped in mid sentence, smiling at each other.   Rich gestured
for Angie to go first.  "You're wrong Drew.  He wants you back."

"That's news to me," Drew said.

"No kidding," Rich added.  "He's talked to all of us at one time or another,
regretting what happened, regretting losing you.  He's not a happy man.  I
even think that now that he has Jimmy back, thinking he'd lost him to Steph
forever, he wants you back too."

"Again," Drew said slowly with determination, "I'm hearing this only from
you two.  There's a missing party here, you know," he observed in his no-
nonsense mode.  He paused, blinking, his eyes squinting.  "Did you say he has
Jimmy back?  How did that happen?"

So Rich and Angie filled him in on their labors in buying Jimmy from Steph,
her supposed, coy interest in Little Hal, asking for pictures, but then
extorting a sum equal to several months' alimony for handing Jimmy over.  Seeing
an opening in Drew's defenses, they pushed ahead, bombarding him with Jimmy
stories and details.  Finally, Drew frowned.  "You're double-teaming me - for
the second time!"  Angie and Rich both laughed.

"But would you talk to Hal, sound him out, give him a chance to open his
heart to you?" Rich jumped in.

"Open his heart?  He did that in his bedroom in front of all of us.  You were
there!  You can't be asking me to go through that again.  I don't think YOU
want to go through that again.  We won't be friends again if you expect me to
subject myself to THAT again."  Rich recognized that they had pushed Drew
about as far as he would go.  He was digging in his heels.

"You've seen him since then.  Did you see that same Hal?" Rich asked
pointedly.

"Drew," Angie tagged on at the end of his utterance, "that was not the Hal
I've talked to even as recently as today.  That Hal is gone.  Brett Carter's
becoming Gwen Thomas's gigolo has seen to that.  That Hal will never return.
So would you give the new Hal a chance by talking to him?"  Drew's lips
compressed, signaling to his close friends that he didn't want to give the
answer the question immediately prompted.  "Dre-e-e-e-e-w?" Angie pushed.

"What you just told me is that, if Brett hadn't swapped Gwen for Hal, we
wouldn't be having this conversation!  Brett is still the choice of his heart.
Now you're telling me he's looking for second best, a replacement for his
precious Brett.  That would last just as long as it takes for the next Brett to
come along - another who will remind him even more of Richie."

Angie groaned.  Rich growled at Drew.  "What!" he said with attitude.

"Has anything we've said seeped into your rock-hard skull?" Rich asked with
attitude.

"Rich, I have to be careful," Drew explained with some vinegar in his attitude.
"I can't survive being hurt like that again.  I WON'T be hurt like that again.
Call my skull adamantine if you must, but it won't cause me to lower my
defenses.  Besides, you have two hunky lovers.  That means you've already
forgotten."

"Forgotten what?"

Drew looked away.  "The abyss."

Rich immediately knew to what Drew was referring.  'This can't go on much
longer,' Rich thought, 'without causing permanent damage between the three
of us.  I wonder if Angie has figured that out.'  One look at her countenance
told Rich that she had, but they weren't quite at the breaking point yet, so she
was going to press right to that point.  'Guess she thinks we'll never have
another chance like this.'

Seeing another opening, Angie asked, "If you think it's truly over with Hal,
why do you need defenses."

Drew pursed his lips, realizing that he'd been speared by his own rejoinder.
"You're doing it again," he said.

"What?" Angie asked in apparent, injured innocence.

"Double-teaming me."

Both his companions laughed at Drew's complaint.  "So," Rich began, "given
all we've told you, does Hal seem like the guy who rejected you?"  Drew's
mouth set stubbornly.  "Please?" Rich responded quickly, "the gift of an
honest answer, the greatest gift one friend can give another?"

Drew tossed his head back, blowing out an exasperated sigh.  Then he looked
at Rich and Angie.  "No, I guess if all you have said is accurate, he doesn't
seem to be that Hal.   However, I haven't seen it with my own eyes.  And I
have no indication he desires anything from me.  I'd be a fool to imagine
otherwise after the treatment I received.  A man doesn't do that to those he's
called to him.  What is that?  Claim and destroy?  And don't kid me:  you all
felt dumped to some degree or other too that night when we found out about
Hal and Brett."

Deflecting Drew's "right-on" rejoinder, Rich said, smiling, "Hey, that's an
unusual slip for you, dude.  Did you notice that, when you began to enunciate
a principle, you just shifted your inclusive 'person' to 'man'?" Rich asked

Drew blushed.  "Sorry, Angie."

Laughter bubbled up out of Angie.  "Drew, you are so politically correct."

"So?"

"So nothing.  It's just so cute sometimes."  Drew's brows clouded, for he
couldn't fathom what she meant.  "But let's not miss the significance of your
unconscious shift.  When you said 'man,' you meant Hal.

"So what?  It's all over.  It was over when he threw Brett in my face with all
that Richie history backing him up.  You yourself taught me, Rich, that I can't
compete against a ghost.  You refused to do so.  Pretty much your very words
to Hal as I recall."  Rich gulped.  Damn, that Drew was a clever scrapper, using
Rich's own words to defend himself.

"And that's the last word on it," Drew said rising.  'Sorry.  I have to get back
to my office."  He paused.  "Look, I know what you two are trying to do.  I love
you for it.  It tells me you have feelings for both Hal and me.  And I don't
want you not to have feelings for Hal.  It sounds to me as though he needs all
the good will and love he can get from you guys.  But nothing is going to happen.
What he did was too hurtful, destructive.  He shut me out!  I'll never give that
much of myself to ANYONE  ever again.  When someone gets that close, they learn
how needy you are and turn it against you . . . Never again," Drew said as he
strode away.

Rich and Angie watched his retreating form.  "Well," Angie said, "that didn't
go as well as I'd hoped."

Rich grinned.  "It went swimmingly.  You just aren't allowing for testosterone
politics."

"What's that?"

"He announced several times that he knew we were double-teaming  him.  No
matter how much he may have wanted to, he wasn't going to cave here with
us today."  Angie looked mystified.

"Not even for me?" Angie asked, her question imbued with a little pique.

"Not even for you, my dear," Rich replied charmingly.

"Why not?"

"Testosterone. . . "It's a guy thing!"  In response, Angie huffed out a breath
of contempt - to Rich's amusement.

(To be continued.)

This week, my other brothers and I lost our older brother.  I'll be traveling
across a couple of states to join them in bidding him farewell.  I regret
that some time will pass before the next chapter is posted.