Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2002 16:21:35 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 26 of "Ambush"

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

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 26
Afterglows and Beginnings

Jeremy had awakened early, folded around me, his flesh warm, his scent
arousing, his love genuine.  He'd hugged me hard.  "Good morning, Dad."
He kissed my cheek and then sighed.  "I promised Ed, my manager, that
I'd help with day-after Christmas sales and gift returns.  I have to get
there before the hordes.  Just want you to know how happy I am, how
wonderful yesterday and last night were."  I turned in his arms and
kissed him softly on the lips, but I started giggling before I could
finish.  "Damn, I can't kiss you for grinning - I'm a DAD!" I shouted,
sitting up and raising my arms in victory as Rocky Balboa did on the
steps of the Philadelphia library.

Sitting up and throwing his arms out in victory, Jeremy echoed, "I'm
Evan's SON!"  We both laughed, hugging each other again.  Then we grew
quiet, basking in our good feelings.  "Ah-oh," Jeremy groaned, leaning
back to look into my face, eyes rolling.

"What?" I asked, growing concerned.

"Well, Dad, you know what this means, don't you?"

I'd been so "up" that I couldn't think of anything "down" at this point.
"No? What is it?" I asked, beginning to worry.

His eyebrows arched.  "This means we are about to be visited by one of
our friends."

We looked for a moment into each other's eyes.  "LaRonda!" we said in
unison, laughing.

"Wanna bet when the visit will occur?" he asked, eyes alight.

I paused for thought.  "Some evening this week . . . after dinner," I
replied.  "How soon LaRonda will hear that I'm adopting you will depend
on how many of her contacts are in town and when she sees them. . . .
She'll know you'll be home from work and available after dinner. . . .
And if you're here, Kenny will probably be as well.  He better be here
so that she can secure the fullest information possible or she'll be
nailing him to the wall at school."  We both shook our heads in
agreement.

Groaning, Jeremy rolled out of bed, walking out the door to his room,
giving me a good shot of his proud morning wood and his svelte ass.  I
heard his shower turn on.  I arose, pulled on my bathrobe, and crutch-
walked to the kitchen to prepare a quick breakfast for Jeremy.  After
fifteen minutes he came in, his hair damp, wearing jeans, Nikes, and a
red sweatshirt bearing the school's name.  "Hey, where'd you get the
sweatshirt?"

"A Christmas gift from Troy and Susan.  I think they were feeling sorry
for me because we'd talked several times about how unhappy I was with
Mom."

"They consider you a close friend, too, Jeremy.  You surely aren't
discounting that."

He shrugged his shoulders, but I knew he believed that he had a special
relationship with them.  "I still owe them a gift.  I told them because
of my mom's situation, I couldn't spare any money for gifts for friends
- well, except for Kenny and you.  They understood, so I said I'd owe
them.  Just one more thing Mom cheated me out of - giving my friends
Christmas gifts."

"If you need me to stake you so that you can get something, let me
know."

"First I have to figure out what to get the perfect couple.  What can
you get a couple who love each other?  They've already got what's
important."

"Give them something that speaks to their particular couplehood, to that
beauty they've created.  I have three ideas."

"Shoot," he directed.

"Check out sales at your store today - DVD or taped movies if Troy and
Susan have a favorite - couples in love often do - 'their' movie, you
know.  CDs for a couple's favorite song, things like that.  If you come
up empty on that, you can visit with Marcie Randall at the mall - "

"Who's Marcie Randall at the mall?" he broke in.

"The young woman who helped us when we were buying your clothes.  You
remember how much she and Susan hit it off.  She was a great help when I
bought your Christmas gifts.  And she likes us."

"Oh, yeah.  She was nice."

"Third, you could allow me to throw in with you and we could give Susan
and Troy a candlelight dinner for two at Francini's or Club Eleven.
Maybe Kenny would want to throw in too.  Even Cody if they haven't
already done something. Whatever suits you."

He cocked his head to the side, pushing his lower lip up against his
upper lip in thought.  "Might be a plan.  I'll think about it today at
work and we can discuss it this evening."

"Deal." I replied.  "Is the gift you gave Kenny a secret?"

He pulled down the neck of his sweatshirt, revealing a thin gold-link
chain.  "I gave Kenny one and I have one."

I smiled.  "Nice.  What did Kenny give you?"

Jeremy grinned.  "I told him the only thing I wanted was to demonstrate
my love for him and have him show me how much he loved me.  That's what
we were doing in my bedroom that night after we came back here from Club
Eleven.  It was sweet, Evan, so hot."  He grinned devilishly again.
"Want to hear about it?"

I shrugged my shoulders - two could play that game.

"The minute we met to go to Club Eleven, it's like we had this unspoken
agreement that this was going to be a date to remember.  For once we
didn't chatter a lot on the way there.  Instead, we gave each other
these hot looks.  While I was driving, he reached over and ever so
softly ran a fingertip around the edges of my lips, then up to my ear,
and then gently massaged my ear lobe.  I reached over and ran my
fingertips lightly around his kneecap and up the inside of his thigh.
Even though it was only light petting, by the time we arrived at Club
Eleven, we were both hard as rocks.  We had to sit in the car to let our
cocks go down.  But you know us.  They wouldn't go down!  So Kenny got
the idea of taking turns describing the worst turn-off we could imagine.
He described what it would be like trying to get it on with Price, Mom's
boyfriend.  We would throw in details that made it awful," he said,
sporting a dopey grin.  "That cooled us off pretty quickly."

"During the beginning of the meal, we kept shooting these hot looks at
each other. Then we just spontaneously started mentioning little details
about what each one of us was going to do to the other when we got in my
bed.  Man, we got so hot. When we reached my car in the Club Eleven
parking lot, Kenny got so carried away that he grabbed me and threw me
back onto the lid of the trunk.  He crawled up on me and began kissing
me with his legs clasped tightly about me as though he were a wrestler
trying to pin me to the mat.  We must have looked hot.  Still, I'm glad
nobody saw us.

I suddenly realized that more than one couple had really let go in the
parking lot after dinner at Club Eleven - Robert Martin and Lisa
Wemberly, Jeremy and Kenny.  Was it the atmosphere?  Was it the food?
Was it the freedom to anonymous?

"We made it to your house in record time, and once we knew you weren't
there, ran down the hall tearing off our clothes.  But I realized that
there was always the chance you might not come home alone, so we ran
back and picked our clothes up and dumped them in a pile in our room.
That's why we came out to talk to you in our briefs.  We were hot and
sweaty and didn't want to sort our clothes out and put them on."

I grinned, cocking my head back and looking up at the ceiling.  "Let's
see - did I complain?"

He chuckled.  "In my room, I started undressing Kenny so slowly, licking
and kissing his face, ears, neck, right on down to the goodies.  Evan, a
man tastes so good - everywhere - when you're in love with him!  I kept
my hands on that luscious ass, just clasping, massaging, stroking,
caressing it.  Oh!  I love that ass."

"It's a classic," I agreed.

"Then Kenny started undressing me.  But when he got my pullover off, he
pushed me back on the bed and tied into me like a hot little tiger.
"Ha-che-wawa!" he exclaimed, eyes closed, smiling.  "Did that ever feel
good."  Jeremy looked in my eyes.  "He wanted me, Evan.  I could feel
the power of his wanting me!"

"Ha-che-wawa?" I asked.

"Remember, that's what that little Ewok says in the third "Star Wars"
movie. He's just surprised Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia, who were
hiding behind a log.  The little Ewok pops up and stands on the log
behind which they are hiding in the redwood forest.  The three study
each other warily.  Then a stormtrooper hidden somewhere in the forest
shoots at the Ewok with a blaster, hitting the log and startling him.
That's what the Ewok exclaims."

"Oh, yeah - I remember now.  Ha-che-wawa!  Pretty good."

"Ha-che-wawa!" Jeremy echoed playfully.

"Well, Kenny got my pants off, pretty much eating me alive everywhere.
What a little carnivore!  He grabbed the lube I kept in my nightstand
and lubed himself and then me.  You wouldn't believe it, Evan.  He
started out sitting on my dick. What that man can do with his ass
muscles and hips!  It was like a dance!"  He looked at me in puzzlement.
"He must have had a lot of practice, or he's just a natural bottom.
Then he grabbed me and slowly rolled backward, pulling me on top.  We
fucked like that for a while.  I don't think I've ever had so many parts
of my cock sending me pleasure:  the top, middle, and bottom of my shaft
- even the place where my shaft joins my body.  And my balls!  They were
so stimulated, sometimes I thought they were inside Kenny too.  Then we
fucked on our sides, then doggie style.  I don't know how many ways we
tried it.  For our final ride, Kenny wanted on his back.  So I crawled
between his legs and slid my cock in him.  Then he started doing things
with his legs and feet as his ass muscles that really gave my dick a
workout.  He climaxed just a little before me.  So hot, Evan!"  He
looked out into the family room, remembering.  "What a Christmas
present," shaking his head in wonderment.

"Don't forget who inspired Kenny."  He looked at me, caught it, and
laughed.

He gobbled down his breakfast.  "I better head out, Evan.  The day's
moving on." Jeremy donned his old coat and was off after another good-
bye hug.  "Sorry, Evan, you're going to have to put up with a lot of
hugs for a little bit.  I just can't believe all the good stuff that's
happened."  That mischievous gleam arose in his eyes.  "I'll probably
get tired of you in a couple of weeks, so you won't have to put up with
it too long."  I reached around and pinched his butt hard.  "Ouch! Child
abuse already after only a few hours!" he laughed.  "See you this
evening."

I sat at the kitchen table, enjoying my cup of coffee, running Jeremy's
account of his Christmas present from Kenny across my mental screen,
growing hard in the process, then reliving yesterday's and last night's
events, basking in the afterglow. I arose, showered, made the bed, and
poured a cup of coffee in a capped thermal mug to carry to the sunroom
without spilling.  With no plans for the day, I thought I ought to make
some.  I was mulling the logistics of taking down the Christmas tree,
the approach of New Year's, remembering that classes would begin again
the day after New Year's.  I frowned.  A quick check-up with Dr.
Sorenson saw me still on my crutches.  He'd not been fully convinced
after the exam that I was quite ready to toss them.  I assured him I
was.  He had firmly assured me that I'd probably be rid of them after
New Year's.

Suddenly, Alan Frazier's face arose on my mental screen, not an
unpleasant prospect.  How remarkably that whole short visit in my
classroom had played itself out.  I already regretted that Alan and I
would never be friends.  Tim certainly wasn't worthy of Alan.  Given
what Alan knew about Tim, why did he stay with him?  Immediately, I
remembered the hot sex scenes Tim and I had shared.  Yeah, that's why.
I guess Alan and I both liked Tim's body.  Tim was hot.  A young fellow
Alan's age had to be flattered that a guy like Tim came after him and
even dumped somebody else for him.

Why in the world did Alan seek me out?  Could cause trouble with Tim if
he found out.  Brokering an understanding with me on Wendy's behalf just
wasn't a convincing motive.  Wendy possessed a sure enough sense of
herself that she was quite capable of effecting an understanding between
us on her own.  And while Alan's explanation that he was curious about
me seemed some kind of justification at first for his appearing at my
classroom door, it wasn't sufficient in the last analysis.  No, there
was something else there, something that had not been spoken, not been
addressed.  Hm-m-m-m-m-m.  A mystery.  Well, I would probably never see
it resolved because our paths would never cross again.  I wondered what
he and Tim had worked out about Alan's remaining behind in college.  A
distance relationship?

A more sobering question arose - how long before Tim dumped Alan too?
Alan intimated that he knew his time with Tim was limited.  Odd.  He
seemed okay with that.  Either he was stronger than I, or he and Tim
hadn't reached a point where each had invested that much in the other.
Or maybe I was desperate when Alan wasn't.  Ouch!  That stung.  Just so
Alan wasn't hurt.  I wouldn't want that.

It was clear that I was moving through the transition away from Tim at a
rapid clip.  Alan's visit had clearly helped in that process.  No way
Alan could have known that - although he was a nice enough guy that he
might have paid a visit if it would help.

Oh!  I suddenly saw it - what would be revenge against Tim if I were at
all interested in revenge - and I wasn't.  What was dismaying was the
irony that Tim would levy his own revenge against himself.  Like me, he
wanted a man in his life, an intimate relationship.  He wanted love too.
But that vicious push-pull dynamic he'd gotten himself into would
forever rob him of that goal.  The more he was pulled toward his dream
man, the closer he came to pushing himself away from that dream man out
of fear that he couldn't control what would occur.

Did that mean that in his heart of hearts Tim was afraid of himself?
What could he fear so much about control that he'd throw away what was
so alluring?  Throw away some great guys?  And what a contorted view of
a loving relationship he had if he believed it rested on who was in
control.  Too many people think that way.  I flashed on the discussion
of control issues Jarod Paine and I had had weeks ago outside the school
when he and Valerie Cunningham were on the outs.

Why didn't Tim know that sometimes giving up control was an aphrodisiac?
It was one of the reasons I was turned on when Robert and Kenny bound me
during the first ambushes.  Tim was imaginative enough to understand
this point about giving up control.  No, I suddenly realized.  He was
too afraid.

I could see it playing itself out over the years ever more dismally.  As
Tim grew older, he would be less attractive to most young guys Alan's
age, who were usually interested only in men around their own age.  So
he would make himself into bait for the scavengers, grabbers, and users,
who would be out to get the most self-benefit that they could.  Tim
wouldn't have to push them away.  They'd leave as soon as they tired of
him or found someone better.  As Tim aged, his trouble would be keeping
them around long enough to fool himself that he was approaching a real
relationship.  Finally, he'd have to settle for the predators. What a
dreadful prospect!

Even before he became bait for predators, Tim would have to field a lot
of self- delusion just to keep going, just to keep himself even with the
world.  I wouldn't wish his future on my worst enemy - had I one.  He
could escape it only if something extraordinary shook him out of the
track he was in.  I didn't believe it would happen.

I suddenly remembered that I needed to call Miles Forbisher, my
attorney, about the adoption.  After my divorce, I had told Miles that
his wonderful name would have made me his client for that reason alone.
He was a highly competent attorney, safe-guarding me every step of the
way through the divorce and in other legal matters.  When others
rehearsed their divorce woes, I realized that Miles had saved me a lot
of grief.

I phoned Miles's office.  His secretary, Rosamond, a motherly type,
answered.  I started to explain my situation since she already knew me,
but she interrupted. "You can speak to Miles himself, Evan.  He's in the
office today.  I'll put you through. You need to come by the office one
of these days to say hello."

Miles hailed from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, so he was Southern hospitality
personified.  'True Southern gentry,' I mused.  I wondered why he had
left the South.  I'd have to ask him sometime.  He still had a trace of
a Southern accent so charming that I couldn't help smiling every time I
heard it.

"Evan Halsey!" Miles boomed out in joyful greeting, letting me know I
was still esteemed by him.  He was a big man, tall, brown hair, nice
shoulders, good body (he was a jogger), auburn eyes, hot ass.  More than
once he'd caught me studying it in his office when he was turned the
right way, earning a grin from him.  He had never married.  I always
wondered if that meant what I sometimes suspected.  We liked each other
from the first meeting.

"Happy New Year!" he continued.  "I hope this call means that you
discovered that you were missing your attorney, so you called just to
check that he was still around.  No trouble, I hope."

I chuckled.  "Well, now that you mention it, I guess I usually bring you
trouble when I call.  But no, this time it's something good, a dream
come true."

"Oh-h-h-h?" I could hear his interest piqued.

"I'm going to be a dad."

"Evan, you dawg!  Been sowing your wild oats, huh?"  He paused.  "Got
kind of a late start, didn't you?  Oh hell, why am I complaining?
Finally I get to deal with a case that might be lurid.  My practice has
been boring lately.  My lawyer friends think I never have any
interesting cases.  But I find it strange to use the words 'lurid' and
'Evan Halsey' in the same breath," he teased.  "What is it?  That lounge
singer who sat on your lap in that bar in Amarillo?  Now an adult child
from her shows up?  Or was it some dance hall queen you made happy?

"No - nothing like that.  I'm going to adopt one of my students."

He didn't answer immediately, for I could hear the "lawyer gears"
kicking in. "A student?"

"Yes, Jeremy Wilder.  He's 18, by the way.  He's never really had
supportive parents.  His dad's run off from irritating city life to the
wilds of Wyoming - nobody knows exactly where.  I hope that's not going
to be a problem for us, by the way.  Jeremy caught his mother impressing
him into labor with stories of financial hardships when she was actually
hiding quite a nice little nest egg.  She has a new boyfriend who
doesn't cotton to Jeremy.  The feeling's mutual.  This all came out on
Christmas Day.  Jeremy had been living with me before that because his
parents had kicked him out.  His mother drew him back with a pity play
after her husband ran away.  However, Jeremy moved back to my place on
Christmas Day when the denouement finally presented itself - with some
prompting from Jeremy."

I wondered if I should mention Kenny's place in Jeremy's life.  I
decided that was none of my business or anybody else's unless Jeremy and
Kenny chose to make it so.  Sharing information about Kenny was up to
Jeremy, for it was his life, not mine.  And I was pleased that I
harbored no urge at all to divulge the information. The fact that he was
going to become my son didn't mean his life belonged to me even though
we'd decided we belonged to each other.

After I'd drawn the vignette that had played itself out over Christmas,
Miles was silent.  I knew he was pondering all the details and their
ramifications, looking for potential problems.  "He's 18, you say?"

"Yes.  Please resolve a bothersome question for me now, Miles.  Since
Jeremy's now 18, we don't need his parents to write-off on this, do we?"

"No, Jeremy's his own man now," Miles answered.  "Sounds like he wanted
a dad?"

"He did.  When they kicked him out, he was living in his car and
sleeping nights in the school gym sometimes.  He's a good man, Miles.
HE asked me to adopt him.  I feel so honored by that request."

"I'm guessing that no pressing reasons are prompting this decision, that
you two just want it for your own reasons.  Of course, being Evan
Halsey, you've probably got the kid thinking you can part the waters."

"Hey!  Don't turn nasty now," I warned, faking umbrage.  He laughed
heartily. Like Jeremy, he probably thought he'd pushed one of my
buttons.

"Well, I'll have you talk to Rosamond to set up an appointment.  I want
to see you and Jeremy together.  I want to meet your son-to-be.  Have
you considered what other decisions this action may entail?"

I thought for a few seconds.  "I'm guessing you mean my will.  Yeah.
He'll be my heir.  I need to change my will too.  Actually, the only
change I'll make is to name him heir to my estate.  And I'll change the
references to the charity and my church included in my will to
percentages of the estate.  Why don't you suggest what you think is
reasonable because I've only just now thought about it.  But I want the
bulk of the estate to go to Jeremy."  I thought a moment.  "He's a
sensible young man, but I don't want his mother doing another pity play
on him so that he hands anything I leave him over to her.  Perhaps you
and I should discuss whether a trust is necessary before Jeremy and I
come over.  Oh, yeah - do we need to put his name on the deed to this
house?"

"Do you want to discuss this in front of him?  It might upset some
kids," he mused.  "And give other kids unsavory ideas!"

We both laughed at that.  "Not Jeremy.  Yes, I want him to know."

"I think we can write the codicil in such a way that a trust won't be
necessary. Are you planning to continue with me as executor?"

"Of course."

"I think a trust won't be necessary then.  I know what your wishes are
in regard to sharing any proceeds with his biological parents.  We'll
express that as a clause in the codicil such that no transfer of
proceeds to another party from Jeremy can occur without my approval
until, say, Jeremy is 30 years old."

Miles paused a moment.  "What about his surname?  Is he planning to
change that to yours?"

"Hm-m-m, I don't know.  We'll talk about it before we see you."

He shifted me to Rosamond, who helped me set an after-school appointment
for Jeremy and me.  I told her I was bringing someone special to meet
her and Miles.

"Evan, another mystery!  You not only love to read them but also love to
create them.  I guess I'll have to wait until next week for this one to
be solved."

We said our good-byes.  As I hung up, I felt that something in my life
had finally fallen into place rightfully.

                          *     *     *

After a light lunch, I decided the best course of action was to remove
all the ornaments and lights from the Christmas tree.  Then I'd pack
those away.  This plan would require less moving about.  It was slow
work, but I was making some progress when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" I yelled.

Kenny pushed the door open.  "Hey, Kenny.  What's up?"

He walked over, bent down, and kissed me.  "Hey, Daddy-in-law," he
greeted me with a loving smile, an acknowledgement of the new level to
which our relationship was going to move.  He was certainly referring to
me that way a lot. And I realized that he was genuinely pleased, another
instance of his and Jeremy's sharing something intimate.    "Guess what.
LaRonda called to see if I was going to be with Jeremy this evening.  I
told her I was.  She wanted to know where.  I said here.  So then I
called Jeremy.  He was really cracking up.  Do you know why?"

I grinned.  "Jeremy predicted this morning that LaRonda would come
calling as soon as her vast network of contacts alerted her to Jeremy's
imminent change in status.  You just proved that he has the abilities of
a seer."

"But why does she want me here?"

"To extract the fullest degree of information possible from the most
directly involved sources.  You are the 'color' interview.  Hey!  That's
the occupation LaRonda should consider.  Journalism."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I'll suggest it when the moment is right."

Kenny took his jacket to Jeremy's room, snagged a soda from the
refrigerator, and started unwinding and removing the lights from the
tree.

As Kenny and I worked at undecorating the tree, we chatted about school,
his family, college, the spring semester.  But we would take breaks too,
especially when the conversation became substantial as it did when he
asked me questions about my earlier life.

After about an hour, we heard a car pull into the driveway.  Jeremy came
bounding through the door, walked over to Kenny, pulled him up and into
a loving clinch and kiss, which they held so long I wondered if I could
resuscitate two people at the same time.  Finally, they broke, looking
into each other's eyes. Then Jeremy turned, looked at me, walked over,
fell down on his knees, and kissed me.  When he broke the kiss, he
hugged me tightly.  Then he arose.

"Okay, guys, what's the plan here?"

We explained what we were doing and Jeremy joined in.  Not 15 minutes
had passed when we heard a car pull up at the curb.  Some seconds later
we heard two car doors close.  The three of us looked at each other,
smiling, for we knew who the visitors were.

A knock at the door brought Jeremy up off the floor and over to the
door.  When he opened it, LaRonda shot through the door and into his
arms, hugging him and squealing, "Oh Jeremy, I'm so happy for you."
Clifton just stood back, smiling, watching his two friends.  LaRonda
pulled away, wiping tears from her cheeks. "I can't help it," she
explained a little breathlessly.  She headed toward me, so I arose just
in time to catch her in my arms.  My!  She WAS happy.  Meanwhile,
Clifton hugged Jeremy, congratulating him, then hugging Kenny.  Finally,
LaRonda shot over and hugged Kenny.  Clifton greeted me, "Evan, how ya'
doin'?" while he hugged me.

When LaRonda realized the nature of our labors, she directed Clifton to
sit on the floor and help out.  Then she asked Jeremy for a recitation
of the story of the adoption.  While working quietly, she concentrated
on the details as Jeremy related the same account he's shared on
Christmas afternoon.

At the end of the tale, Clifton observed, "It sounds like a real
Christmas story.  I bet you guys will always remember and talk about the
Christmas of 2001.  I wish there were more stories like these at
Christmas.  I don't think there are better presents than the ones you
guys are receiving," he concluded.  "Just think, Jeremy - when you were
going through all the bad stuff, you didn't know the good stuff was just
around the corner."

"Yeah," said Jeremy with some venom, "I can hardly wait to go to Mom's
and tell her that I have a better parent and home, someone who loves me,
cares for me, doesn't use me, and is going to be my real parent."
LaRonda shot me a glance that spoke volumes, for we both knew that that
behavior wasn't consistent with Jeremy's character.

"May I suggest something?" I interposed.

Jeremy looked at me.  "Shoot."

"Think twice about going to your mom's house to express your feelings.
In fact, consider not even expressing them to her at all."

He was studying me.  "But Evan," he spoke softly, "she kicked me out,
then asked me back only to use me."  There was a slight catch in his
voice.  "She has no love for me."  LaRonda looked at Jeremy, her eyes
warm with care, love, empathy.

"I need to explain something about the rules of hospitality," I started.
"I'm telling you this because I admire and respect you.  In many ways,
you're my hero."  He looked up at me, surprised at what I'd just
admitted.

Clifton and Kenny paused in picking ornaments off the tree, extracting
the hanging hooks and dropping them in a little box, and putting them
away in their boxes.  They were studying Jeremy and me.  Only LaRonda
continued as though nothing of any import had been said, but I knew she
was listening carefully; in fact, she probably knew the gist of what I
was about to say.

"According to traditions of hospitality, one does not enter another's
home and then put him or her down, for that person enters as a guest, no
matter how unwelcome.  Nor does he invite another to his home to put
that person down, for that person is a guest there.   It's inhospitable.
It isn't decent.  If such words absolutely need to be said, they are
spoken in a place neutral to the two parties."

"A more important way to frame the issue for proper consideration is to
ask this question:  Is putting your mother down justice enough for what
she did?" I asked gently, looking him in the eyes.  Clifton had quietly
gone back to work, but he too was attending to this exchange.  Kenny was
focused on Jeremy, frowning, his brow wrinkled with worry.

Jeremy continued gazing at me, but he was weighing, struggling, hurting.
This discussion was necessary to ending the hurt so that it didn't
become a wound that would never heal.  "I don't think so.  What's
justice for rejecting a child?"

"At the end of earthly life," I began an answer, "when a person is
called to judgment for stewardship of the gifts given him or her, what
can a parent say who wantonly rejected a child?  Just to be fair, I'm
not talking about biological parents who find that it's better to allow
a child to go to someone who's ready to be a better parent.  Not every
human is meant to be a parent.  And I'm not talking about parents who
turn to Tough Love, assuming that that's the final resort.  I don't mean
those parents.  I'm talking about your parents, Jeremy, on whom I should
not sit in judgment.  I don't need to.  Their judgment will happen in
its own time at the seat of Providence.  And the justice meted out to
them?  Don't even think about it.  It's horrible.  Like the worst
torments, it will occur inside them, but there will be no agency to
provide relief, for they threw away the gift they had been given.  And
there will be no one to offer solace to them.  They will be closed off
from anyone and anything.  And they will yearn to return to that fatal
moment to turn away from their error, but that moment will never be
revisited.  They will see how other possibilities existed, but they
blinded themselves to them.  Now what can anyone say to them that will
be greater punishment than that?

"That's why in this instance, as in so many others, the best justice is
your success right here in this home, and in your own home when you
reach that point in your life, and in the rest of your life.  The best
revenge is always success!  You never have to reproach those who have
injured, reviled, or hurt you, for your good circumstances speak loudly
in their own right.  They cannot be rebutted.  And you have not
diminished or demeaned yourself by putting another down.

"If you were to read your mother off, you would find it a hollow
victory.  You would be shocked to discover how quickly after blurting
out your feelings that you felt no satisfaction, no contentment, just
emptiness and major frustration. People in your mother's position have
to subscribe to your values and feelings for your words to have any
effect on them.  But their behavior has already made it clear that they
don't share those values and feelings.  If they did, they would not have
rejected you.  Thus, you will never secure the reaction you want.

"Even more, trying to get even with your mother could lead to your
carrying regret around on your shoulders the rest of your life.  NOT
pleasant!"  I swallowed hard, reviewing my life.  "I'm not talking about
little regrets.  Just the big ones.  There's an acid edge to big
regrets.  It sears the soul.  I don't know of any antidote for it.
That's why those who are wise do not want regret ruling their lives.
And I want to save you from that, Jeremy."

"Like what kind of regrets are you talking about, Evan?" Kenny asked.

I was concentrating on placing little carousel horse ornaments behind
elastic string in a special box that protected their fragile beauty, but
I was really looking back down my life.

"For anyone, such regrets might result from mistakes made, ill treatment
by others, certain decisions, failings, disappointments, I guess," I
smiled, still not looking up.  "I'm not talking about bank robbery or
any behavior as egregious as that."

"I can't imagine Evan Halsey having regrets," Clifton observed.

I smiled, intent on my task.  "He's human, so he's going to have them,"
I replied.

"You talk as though you have big regrets you're carrying around.  So
like what are your regrets?" Jeremy asked.  They weren't going to let
this point pass by quickly.

"Trusting too quickly, giving too freely, expecting too much, not giving
enough credit to the darker side of human nature, caring more than
others wish or need, focusing too much on the ideal."  I was suddenly
aware of the sound of only my voice in the room.  A glance up from my
labors revealed all of them staring at me. I blushed.

"Though its causes may be manifold, in the end regret is a parasite,
sapping one's spirit, stealing energy, starving the soul.  You're too
wonderful, too strong, too sensible, too caring, too wise, Jeremy, to
allow that to happen to you."

They had all stopped their work, just looking at me.  I blushed again.
"Really pompous there, Evan," that inner voice said.  'No,' I replied in
my mind to the voice; 'just inviting the initiates into wisdom.'

Jeremy arose, walked over to me, knelt down, leaned forward and hugged
me. "Okay.  I've always known you loved me, Evan," then he looked at the
others, "loved all of us."

He returned to his tasks on the floor.  "Did you call your lawyer,
Evan?" "Yes, you and I have an appointment to meet with Miles early next
week.  Before then, we have to reach some decisions."

"Decisions like what?"

"For openers, what will your name be?  Will you keep your name or change
it"

"You're going to be my dad.  What do you want me to do?"

"Jeremy, this is your call.  This issue is too personal for someone
other than you to decide."  I smiled to reassure him.

"But don't you expect me to take your name?"

"Jeremy, you'll be my son.  What more could I want or ask?  Besides,
I've always liked the name 'Wilder.'"  I grinned devilishly.  "Now a
name like 'Clifton Washington III' is a challenge."  Though puzzled,
Clifton grinned.  LaRonda turned her head slightly aside, lowered her
chin, and looked at me as though to ask, "What mischief are you up to,
Halsey?"

I continued, "Imagine the woman you'd have to find to do justice to a
name like that!  Why, you could hunt a lifetime the world over and never
find the woman suitable to such a noble name."  Clifton and Kenny
snorted in glee, for LaRonda had narrowed her eyes looking at me."

"The hunt's over, Bub!  The wo-o-o-man's done been found!  No lifetime
needed," she stated moving her head and hips with attitude as she spoke.
I roared. Jeremy smiled, amused.  Kenny was cracking up.

Clifton tried to stifle a laugh as he crawled over and kissed LaRonda.
"Baby, you took the very words right out of my mouth!" he stated
charmingly.  She melted, smiled, giggled.

"Jeremy James Wilder Halsey.  That's a mouthful," Jeremy said.  "Jeremy
James Halsey.  Jeremy Wilder Halsey."  He was trying them out.  "Hey
Love," he said, looking at Kenny.  "If you were to marry me, what name
would you want?"

Kenny contemplated the issue for the first time ever in his life, I
imagined.  "I don't know.  If guys marry, do they change their names?"

Jeremy looked at me.  I shrugged my shoulders.

"What other decisions?" Jeremy quizzed me.

"About my estate and what happens when that becomes an issue."

"Evan, I've just gotten you.  I don't want to think about losing you."

"I've had a will for several years, you know.  At the time that it
becomes active, you won't want to be dealing with a lot of big
decisions.  In addition, part of loving you is ensuring that you are
properly situated for your own future, which means some slight changes
in my will need to occur.  Such discussions need not be painful; they're
just annoying.  Besides, it gives me the greatest of pleasure to look
out for you in any way I can.  If I am ever to move into the Super
Parent Track, you have to allow me to do this."

"If we have to talk about this, must it be on an empty stomach?" Jeremy
asked sassily.  But his eyes were glittering more than usual, which told
me he'd have spilled tears if the conversation continued.  LaRonda was
smiling as she was tucking little wooden ornaments in their box.  She
looked up at me and winked.

"Pizza time!" I popped off.  We decided what we wanted and ordered it
delivered. Clifton and LaRonda agreed to stay and help us polish the
pizza off.  We were nearing the end of our labors, so while I went to
the kitchen to order the pizza, LaRonda marshaled the crew into storing
the boxes away until next year, moving the tree to the porch for
recycling, and vacuuming up the dry needles.  Christmas was officially
over.

                         *     *     *

The first day of school after New Year's Day found
me in my classroom early, which is exactly where Wendy Fielding located
me.  As soon as I saw her I knew she'd come to class early to talk to
me.  "Mr. Halsey.  All the news I'm hearing tells me you had a great
holiday.  You're going to be a father!

I grinned like an idiot.  "Yeah, I guess you heard that I'm adopting
Jeremy.  I imagine everybody thinks it's weird."

"No, they don't.  Strong parents aren't something Jeremy's had in his
life, but now he's going to make it happen.  Everybody thinks it's
typical of the kind of can-do person Jeremy has turned into.  Quite a
change in just over four months. He's like Prince Charming, turning a
dream into reality.  First he saved Kenny. Then he went after you for a
dad.  They also think you are a perfect father for him.  More than a few
are envious.  I guess they believe you two will spend all your time
joking and teasing the way you do in class."  I just chuckled.

"They haven't stopped to think about Jeremy's being under Evan Halsey's
dreaded eye," she continued.

"Hey, I'm not that bad!"  Boy!  People were poking fun at me of late.
Then I realized that it indicated how securely they knew they were held
in my good will.

"And your break was pleasant?  Probably filled with a lot of Shane
McComber?"

She smiled.  "Oh yeah.  Very nice.  Shane and I are a perfect fit. . . .
Mr. Halsey, Alan Frazier told me about his visit with you.  That is, he
passed on your message that I should come see you.  I was feeling bad
about that class period when I asked why you didn't attend Tim Minor's
party.  Alan said he explained why I asked that."

"Yes.  I hope he relayed my comment that I knew you had been set up,
that you haven't a mean bone in your body, that everything is okay with
us."

"I'm so relieved," she responded.

I noticed students filtering into the room.  I decided to continue
chatting with Wendy so that students would see that we were okay with
each other.  I asked for details about her family's Christmas.  I found
a place or two to joke with her so that we could be seen laughing.  It
wasn't lost on those in the classroom, who were studying our
interaction.

It was easy to tell that the students were just back from a vacation,
for they were chattering away.  As Wendy walked to her desk, I noticed
several students smiling and speaking to her.  I was glad that she
wasn't going to be frozen out.  I used the time to take roll.  "Mr.
Halse-e-e-e-e-y.  Don't you have something you want to tell us?"
LaKeisha asked, stopping just short of batting her eyes at me. 'Oh
brother,' I thought.   The room immediately grew quiet - LaKeisha was on
stage.

Okay.  We could play a little.  I cocked my head to one side, looking up
at the ceiling as if in thought.  "Oh yes.  Happy New Year. . . I missed
you all. . . Glad to see you back. . . Let's get to work!"

"No, no, no," I heard a vehement protest - from otherwise quiet, demure
Angela Walker!  Everyone turned to look at her - as surprised as I.  The
most surprised among us appeared to be Tony.  For the first time ever I
observed him so caught off-guard that his jaw dropped.  What an image!
I'd never forget it, for I doubted one would very often see Tony so
surprised.  Angela blushed upon realizing how strongly she had protested
and how much attention was focused on her.

She swallowed, beginning again.  "Mr. Halsey, we've all spent half a
school year together.  We're kind of like a family.  When something nice
happens, you're supposed to share it with members of the family.
Otherwise, you suggest that the family members aren't important.  That's
what LaKeisha means."  Both LaKeisha and LaRonda turned to look at me,
their eyebrows arched as though they were saying in chorus, "See, we
told you; listen to our sister."  Susan's was hiding her smile behind
her hand, but she gave me a small nod of encouragement.

I arched my eyebrows and lowered my chin, accepting the challenge.
"Very well. . . . Ladies and gentlemen of Halsey's Ramparts, even now
the wheels of justice have been set in motion, auguring to make . . ."
and here I paused for effect, looking at Jeremy and breaking out in a
grin to be matched by his.  Kathleen Burge pushed her door open wider as
she stood out in the hall with a clear view of my classroom.  Apparently
she'd heard LaKeisha and Angela and anticipated what I was about to
announce.  Jim Belton happened by, stopping by Kathleen, looking in.

" . . . even now auguring to make one of your own, Jeremy James Wilder,
my son, which of course means . . ." a huge smile broke out on my face
as my eyebrows rose . . . "I'll be his dad."  I don't know where it
started first, but Kathleen was clapping and so were Susan and Troy,
Angela and Tony, Beth and Paul, Wendy.  I heard it picked up by
Kathleen's students in their classroom, even though I couldn't see them.
It grew in my room too and echoed down the halls.

Byron Okata looked around at everyone as though he couldn't figure out
what was being celebrated.  As the clapping diminished and ended, Byron
muttered quietly, "Poor Jeremy," but not quietly enough that it wasn't
heard.  Laughter leapt from my students' throats.  Kathleen walked to
her door, relaying Byron's words to her class, and the laughter spilled
out of that classroom.  I could imagine teachers and students down the
adjacent long hall looking at each other, wondering what insurrection
was afoot at our end of the hall.  I knew an account of it would be
common knowledge among the general school population by the end of the
lunch period.  Kathleen looked back and waved, walked into her
classroom, shutting the door.  Jim Belton smiled and gave me a little
wave and went on his way.

Tony turned to Byron.  "Don't you understand, Man?  Jeremy's a shoo-in
for the Honor Roll now.  The 'A's will come rolling in."  Byron looked
at Jeremy and then back at Tony, not quite certain if he should take
Tony's remark seriously. Snickers occurred here and there around the
room.

Jeremy took all his classmates in during a sweeping glance, catching
everyone's eye.  "He gave me a 'D' on my last essay," he told them.
"He's still the same old Evan."  A groan or two accompanied Jeremy's
news.  I frowned at him. "Ooops!" he jumped in.  "Sorry, sorry, sorry.
I EARNED a 'D' on my last essay."  My frown ceased, I smiled a bit,
nodding my head at him.

"And as you have observed," I began archly, "Jeremy's still the
irreverent, cheeky b- " I caught myself just in time, " - buckaroo he's
always been."   Troy, Jeremy, and Tony snorted like buffalos, trying to
stifle laughter, for they knew the slip I'd about made.  They started
the class off laughing again, with Byron joining this time.  By gosh, we
just might teach Byron to loosen up and have a little fun.  I caught
Susan's and then Troy's eyes, directing them to Byron.  I raised my
eyebrows as though to ask, "What do you think?  Can we help Byron a
little?" Susan gave me a little affirmative nod, which Troy caught, and
then he winked at me.  The liberation of Byron Okata from rigid
formalism and exactitude was underway.

                         *     *     *

At the end of the last class that day, Jim Belton did one of his
pop-ins as I was putting away papers and books on my desk and making
certain that my calendar was in my attache.  "I was glad to hear
the good news today," he started, no smile. "That boy was due for
some good luck.  Plenty of talk earlier in the fall among the kids
about Jeremy's bad luck at home.  You know, I discovered that Jeremy
was sneaking in the gym at night for a warm place to sleep.  I guess
I could have been fired for not ratting him out, but I knew that boy
was carrying a heavy load on his shoulders.  He wasn't going to hurt
anybody or anything catching a few winks in the school at night.  So
I kept an eye on him but let it pass.  I know lots but tell little."

"I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one concerned about Jeremy.
You're a good man, Jim.  Thank you for helping Jeremy that way."  Jim
never acknowledged compliments.

 "You seen Tim Minor's new replacement?" he asked.

"No.  But you're right.  With the semester beginning right after New
Year's, we'd have to have this person on board now.  Man or woman?" I
asked.

"Dunno," he replied.  "I'll be running into whoever it is one of these
days."

Jim continued to stand there watching me finish restoring my desk to
order.  I looked up at him now and again.  'He wants to say something,'
I thought. 'Must be tough because he's taking a lot of time to work up
to it.'

Jim swallowed.  "Know any lawyers, Evan?"

"I know mine, Miles Forbisher.  I like him a lot.  He's also very good
at what he does.  Jeremy and I will be meeting with him this week about
the adoption.  But I don't really know many other lawyers."

I was silent, allowing him time to determine his next step.  "My wife
and I are splitting."

I stopped my packing.  "Jim, I'm sorry.  No matter what the situation,
divorce is an unpleasant experience.  I'm sorry you have to go through
it."

"I need a good lawyer.  I don't want to lose my farm in the settlement.
The farm's been in my family for generations.  My wife doesn't care for
it, but she might like the money a sale of the place would bring.  If I
lose the farm, it'll cut a big chunk out of my heart," he said in the
longest confessional I'd ever heard from him.  And the disclosure!  Jim
NEVER revealed much at all about his personal life.  He must be really
worried.

Nothing was said for a bit.  "Would you like the address of my lawyer?
If you don't want him for an attorney, he would be happy to suggest
others to you.  And he wouldn't feel bad if you went to one of those
other lawyers.  Here, let me give you his address and phone number.  If
you decide you need help, call him. Believe me, you'll feel comfortable
with him."

I fished Miles's business card out of my billfold, writing the pertinent
information on a notepad and handing the sheet to Jim.  When he took it,
I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed.  "If you ever need to talk,
I'm here for you."  I knew it was unlikely that Jim would take me up on
the offer.  If there were ever a type to suffer in silence, Jim Belton
was it.

Jim nodded.  "Thanks, Evan."  Then he walked out of the room, leaving me
there deep in thought about how bad this must be for him.  I didn't
think he was a man comfortable outside his well-established, narrow
habits, so the loss of his farm would be a devastating blow.  I hoped
his wife still cared enough about him to think about that.  There was so
much about Jim that I didn't know.  I felt that we had discovered
another Byron Okata.  I'd have to watch to see if Jim needed any
assistance.  He certainly wouldn't ask for it.

                       *     *     *

Classes flew by the next morning.  I didn't run into Jim anywhere.  I
didn't hear anything about Tim's replacement. During lunch, I was
sitting at my desk, eating the last of my usual fare, an apple, staring
off into space. Something big filled my left peripheral vision. I looked
over to see this massive man filling the doorway of my classroom.  My
cock jumped in my pants. A man's man!  He was huge, but he wasn't fat.
Just . . . gigantic and well built.  My first thought was that he was
lost, so he wanted directions.  But no one would get lost down the short
hall where my classroom was located.  So he must be the father of one of
my students. Parental interest in a child's progress in school?  A
complaint?

Not smiling, he strode into the room and up to the desk.  He stuck out
his hand. "You're Evan Halsey.  I'm Ron Hamilton."

"Hello, Ron" I said, shaking his hand.  As soon as I touched his hand,
an electric current shot up my arm to my heart, shortening my breath.
Like the man, the hand was massive, tough with muscle.  My hand was lost
in its warm expanse.  I was staring at him.  He still wasn't smiling.

Ron had to be as tall as Tim, shoulders just as wide, but he made Tim
look willowy.  It was his lats, which flared out.  This guy was all
beef!  He had black curly hair, which he wore short.  His eyes were wide
set, blue, and intense, made more so by heavy black brows setting off
even more the blue of his eyes, which were studying me intently.  His
nose was straight, broad, and long.  He had a strong, square chin.  Like
everything else, his mouth was sized just right for his face, and his
lips were full.  He had a heavy beard, his whiskers shadowing his cheeks
and squared chin.  He didn't have a bull neck, but it wasn't small.  He
looked like a hunky construction worker.

Though covered with a burgundy pullover, his massive chest made my pulse
quicken.  His pecs were big and round, and one could see his nipples
pushing against the cloth of his pullover.  If my hand hadn't been
clasped in his, I might have had to sit on it to keep from reaching out
and tweaking the nearest nip.  His arms bulged with muscle.  This guy
obviously worked out.  His stomach, area- wise, was big too, but flat.
No fat there.  His waist was smaller than the breadth of his shoulders,
but it wasn't willowy.  I couldn't see his ass, but I knew it looked
like a giant's ass.  The black trousers pulled tight across his legs
revealed thighs and calves big with muscle.  I stifled a moan all too
ready to slip out.  Even though it didn't, I blushed.

Finally, I saw the hint of a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth.
"Something about my hand that you really like?"

"What?" I asked, dazed.

"You stopped shaking it but you are still holding my hand."

I looked down dumbly at our hands as though I were only now discovering
that they were attached.  "Oh . . . oh forgive me.  I'm a little slow
today," I said, jerking my hand back as though it had touched hot metal.
"I - I - I 'm trying to connect you with one of my students," I
stammered, trying to cover my discomposure but highlighting it by
blushing.

He grinned.  "You won't be successful.  I connect with someone you know,
but not a student."

My brow wrinkled.  "Oh?  Who's that?

"Tim Minor and I are old friends."  My back stiffened, and I saw him
smile again upon observing it.  I made no reply.

"I took Tim's place in the Science Department here.  Rather, he talked
me into applying for his job here."

"Welcome, Ron.  I hope you like it here.  Where were you before?"

"At the high school where Tim moved.  In fact, we swapped jobs."

I noticed that students for my next class were entering the room.  "You
came here from the capital?" I asked, incredulously.  "Traded jobs?  Why
wouldn't you want to stay there if Tim moved there and you are friends?
Oh, wait a minute.  That's none of my business.  I apologize.  It's just
such an unusual turn of events."

"Yeah, it is.  How about letting me take you out to dinner Friday night
so that we can discuss it?  Maybe you can give me pointers about
settling into a new city. You know:  best cleaners, grocery store,
restaurants, politics here at the school, how to keep from strangling
Mary Ellen Branson," he grinned mischievously.

'Ah,' I thought - 'the head of the Science Department affects him the
same way she affects me.  The guy can't be all bad.'

"All bad?" that interior voice questioned snottily.  "Your erection,
breathlessness, and incoherency hardly testify to your finding him 'all
bad.'"

Ron's eyes lightened with an idea.  "Why don't you give me your address,
phone number, and directions to your house?  I'll pick you up at 6:00
Friday evening."

"Okay."  I wrote the information on a notepad, tore off the sheet of
paper, and placed it in his hand, my hands and fingers shaking.  His
meaty hand closed gently around mine.  He looked deeply into my eyes.  I
was mesmerized, lost in his blue eyes.  Slowly, he released my hand,
which plopped on the desk, robbed of strength.  I felt like an idiot.
He smiled at the effect he had on me.

"Friday night," he said, winking at me.  He turned and walked back to
the door. Oh man, that ass was big with hard muscles.  I would have
given a month's pay on the spot to squeeze it.  I stifled a groan.  When
the next class started, I had to continue to sit on my stool behind my
desk.  I had a visible erection that didn't want to go away because I
could still see Ron in my mind's eye.  My breath was still short!  What
the hell was going on?

(To be continued.)

Many thanks to Lawyer Gene, a true Southern Gentleman down Louisiana
way, for answering legal questions.