Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 15:52:25 -0800 (PST)
From: Mark Stevens <rustynail920@yahoo.com>
Subject: In the Direction of Happiness - Part 3

The following is property of the author.  Permission to post
is granted to Nifty Archives.

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction.  Any similarity to
individuals, living or dead, is pure coincidence.  Do no read
this story if you are offended by man-to-man romance or
sex.  Do not read if you are underage according to laws in
the country, state/province, county, city/town/village or
township where you live.


This is a love story.  I've attempted to create a tale where
the characters are involved in living life to its fullest.
Although sex is part of this story, so are romance, pain and
self-realization.  I hope you enjoy it.

I like to receive e-mail and will attempt to answer all
messages.  Mail to: rustynail920@yahoo.com



IN THE DIRECTION OF HAPPINESS - PART 3


Chapter 7 - Gary

  I decided that the course of wisdom would be to bury
myself in my new and exciting job.  Later that morning, I
was in the greenhouse taking cuttings from various
perennials, when Dan walked in.  The kiss that he'd
witnessed the night before came to mind.  I felt
embarrassed and was certain that he had come to quit.

  "Mr. Houston, do you have a minute?  I'd like to talk with
you."

  "Yes Dan, I'd like to talk with you too.  I'll be right with
you."  I wiped off my cutting knife and walked over to
Dan.

  "Let's go to the house and have a cup of coffee while we
talk."

  Dan took a seat on the porch and I poured us each a cup.

  "Please call me Steve.  We're about the same age and Mr.
Houston doesn't sound quite right."

  "Steve, about last night, it's cool.  I was surprised, is all.  I
know I must have looked totally stupid with my mouth
wide open and staring at you."

  "No Dan, you didn't look stupid at all, but I sure felt
stupid.  I didn't know that anybody was still here.  I don't
usually go around kissing men, or women, for that matter.
I'm really sorry if it was awkward for you.

  You will be seeing a lot of Mark around here.  We've been
friends for years.  We met in college and we've been close
ever since.  I love him very much, simple as that."

  "Steve, it's fine with me.  Mark and I talked before you
got home. He's real cool and I like him.  Actually I'm
envious.  I wish I had somebody special in my life.  I
haven't had a girlfriend for over a year and I'm lonely.  But
anyway, that isn't what I want to talk with you about.  I was
just wondering if there is any possibility of getting some
more work?  I love my job and would be happy to help out
more.  Mr. Martin kept a real tight budget and always had
his kids to help him.  With you being by yourself, I thought
you might need some more help."

  "Dan, you must have read my mind.  That's what I wanted
to talk with you about.  I'm hoping to publish a mail order
catalog and I'll need to spend considerable time putting it
together.  How many hours can you work weekly?"

  "Full time is fine with me, at least for now."

  Over the next few weeks Dan and I became pretty good
friends.  We'd work together all-day and then go out for a
drink in the evening.  There's a tavern nearby that we really
enjoy.  We'd often go there for a beer and to play darts.

  Between work and Dan's company, I kept myself
occupied and didn't dwell constantly on Mark's absence.  It
was about that time when I got involved with the Connie
Latham ministry.  As negative as that turned out, I
remained busy.  It's also about the same time that I met
Gary.

  Sunday morning I decided to attend church.  There is a
small Lutheran church a short distance from my house.
Brought up in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of
America, a rather moderate synod, I was mildly
apprehensive when I learned that this congregation was part
of the fundamental Missouri synod.  My fears were
unfounded and I soon felt comfortable with the familiar
liturgical setting.

  I was warmly welcomed by many in the small
congregation and I stayed for the potluck lunch following
the service.  Most everybody knew of the Martin Nursery
and they were pleased to meet the man who bought the
business and property.   Several young women approached
me and I was invited to an upcoming social event.
Evidently the congregation was joining with several local
churches for an ecumenical picnic that would be held at
Hart Park the following Saturday.  I wasn't sure if I wanted
to attend so I didn't commit.

  One of the women who approached me seemed
determined to become better acquainted, so I decided to sit
with her while we ate.  Her name was Patti and she was
very pretty.  Although I'm certainly not the typical male, I
sometimes behave like one.  I couldn't take my eyes off her
tits.  They were beautiful, not large, but round and full.  I
could see the outline of her nipples through her blouse and
I fought the urge to stare.

  Patti was quite chatty and seemed to know a little bit
about everybody in the congregation.  Somehow she felt it
was her mission to share all of the gossip with me.  I tried
to appear interested but soon regretted my decision to sit
with her.

  "Excuse me Patti, but I have some business to discuss
with our young visitor.  I'm sure he will be happy to join
you shortly."

  I looked up to see a handsome man, probably about 40
years old, smiling at me while extending his hand.

  "My name is Gary Thompson and I thought you might
need rescuing.  I apologize if I was mistaken."

  "Thank you," I said gratefully.  "She's very nice but she
sure can talk.  I'm Steven Houston and I'm pleased to meet
you.  I recently purchased the Martin nursery and I'm
looking for a church home."

  "Well I hope you enjoy Saint Luke's.  I'm not a member of
this congregation.  I'm visiting as part of the Lutheran Lay
Renewal program.  My membership is at Trinity Lutheran
in Pasadena.  My first visit to Saint Luke's was last Sunday,
when I too was cornered by Patti.  I glanced in your
direction several times and saw you looking increasingly
desperate, so decided to give you a hand.  I also noticed
you struggle as you tried not to stare at her breasts," Gary
said with a wry smile.

  "Was I that obvious?" I asked.

  "Probably not to anybody else.  I enjoy observing people
and their behavior.  I'm a writer and it goes with the job."

  I liked Gary. I could tell that his faith was deep and
genuine. We talked at length about the church and its role
in society.  Gary questioned the viability of any institution
that stressed obedience to rules, at the expense of a living
faith.  He feared that was the road our more fundamental
brethren were taking these days.  He's also a liberal thinker
and I could tell he probably found himself at odds with
many aspects of Christian dogma.  We sat talking until the
custodian appeared and told us they were ready to clean up.

  I was hoping I would see Gary at the next service but he
told me this was his last week visiting Saint Luke's.  He
must have felt the same way about me because he invited
me to his home for dinner the following Saturday.  I
decided to visit Gary instead of attending the church picnic.

  Gary lives in Pasadena.  The moment I walked into his
house I felt a sense of peacefulness.  His home is tastefully
decorated, with beautiful paintings, etchings and
lithographs displayed in each room.  Dinner was delightful.
I soon learned that he had a flair for cooking.  He prepared
Beef Wellington, asparagus with cream sauce and baby red
potatoes.  He served the finest Pinot Noir I'd ever tasted.

  Dinner conversation was mostly about the church.  Gary
felt that the simple redemptive message of the gospel was
being perverted by televangelists who were replacing God's
grace, with man made rules designed to manipulate the
faithful.  Salvation was no longer based on faith in the
finished work of Jesus Christ, but by following spiritual
steps and good works.

  He was particularly concerned about the alliance between
the fundamental voices within the church and the political
right wing.  Pat Robertson and Jesse Helms were wolves in
sheep's clothing, according to Gary. He foresaw a powerful
church state that would dictate morality through legislation.
He repeatedly voiced his concern, that the strides made by
minorities and women would be, "sacrificed on the altar of
imposed morality."

  After dinner, we moved into the living room.  He asked
me if I would like to sample his collection of after dinner
liqueurs.  I was amazed.  Most of the libations I'd never
heard of.  Over the years I would end up trying them all.
That night I enjoyed a strong scotch based liqueur called
Gleva.  Gary explained that it was made by combining a
good single-malt scotch with fermented honey.

  Gary turned the conversation toward me. He was very
curious about my business and was quite knowledgeable
about horticulture.  He wanted to know about me
personally.  If anybody else had asked me the questions he
did, I would probably have been offended.  But I felt
comfortable with Gary, and found myself opening up to
him.  I knew his curiosity was genuine, and talking with
him felt good.

  "Do you have a special person in your life?" he asked.

  Before I could answer, he told me that he had just ended a
long time relationship with a lover.  He didn't say divorce,
so I assumed he had not been married.  I also, although I'm
not sure why, felt his lover was a man.

  "It was the most traumatic thing I've ever endured.  It will
be a long time, if ever, before I'll do that again," he said.  I
could see pain in his eyes.

  "I'm very sorry Gary.  Love and pain seem to walk hand in
hand, but I think I'll take it over loneliness," I said.  "I do
have somebody special in my life, but it is very
complicated and frankly, I don't know if I can talk about it
yet."

  "If you ever need an ear to bend, I hope you'll consider
mine.  I feel a special kinship with you."

  "Thanks, I feel the same way.  I'm very comfortable
talking with you.  Don't take this the wrong way, but you're
like a loving father or, maybe, a good pastor."

  "I hope you're not saying that just because I'm so old," he
said smiling.

  "No, not at all.  I say it because you're kind and genuine.
Two characteristics I value highly in people.  I don't have
many friends, by choice.  I thoroughly enjoy my work,
which takes up most of my time, and when it comes to
relationships, I'll take quality over quantity any day.  I do
consider you my friend."

  It was getting late, so I thanked Gary for both his
hospitality and friendship.  He surprised me by giving me a
warm hug before walking me to my car.  We promised to
stay in touch, with plans to meet at my house in two weeks,
for a tour of the nursery and dinner.  I warned him that my
cooking skills didn't extend past the barbecue, but he
assured me that would be fine.

  My friendship with Gary is very important to me and
remains strong.  He has always made himself available to
me and we've shared our deepest thoughts, hopes, and
fears.  He's taught me so much about genuine spirituality
and living life to its fullest.  Through him I eventually came
to understand that, "sin is anything you allow to come
between yourself and God."  It has nothing to do with a set
of religious beliefs or cosmic do's and don'ts.  He also
taught me to enjoy single malt scotch.  On both counts I'll
always be grateful.



  Mark and I spoke on the phone everyday since our
memorable night together.  On Tuesday flowers arrived
with a note that said, "To the love of my life."  On Friday a
parcel was delivered by U.P.S.  The small box contained a
pair of white boxer shorts covered with little red hearts.
The accompanying note said, "for the next time we're
together."

  I knew Mark was struggling with this, the most important
decision of his life.  Yet through it all, he did everything
possible to assure me of his love.  Finally, after two weeks
had passed, I couldn't take the suspense any longer.  I
called him at work.

 "Mark, do you have a minute to talk."

  "Hi Stevie, yes I do.  What's up?"

  "Mostly I just wanted to hear your voice.  I miss you.
How are things with Barbara?"

  "I've made a decision.  I've wanted to talk with you, but
I've been afraid of how you will react.  I can't imagine what
will happen to me if you don't understand my decision."

  There was a long and awkward pause.

  "You told me to do what is best, for myself.  I hope I've
done that."

  "Good.  Whatever you've decided, you needn't worry.
Nothing has changed with me.  I can only be truly happy if
I know that you are following your heart.  Do you want to
tell me now?"

  "I guess I should.  Steven, I'm doing what I believe is
right, for me.  That does not mean I'm following my heart.
There is a difference.

  My heart would have me move in with you.  My heart
tells me that I don't need anything that you can't give me.
My heart tells me that there is nobody in this world for me,
apart from you.  My heart tells me that I'm hopelessly in
love with you, forever.  But, I know if I abandon my child,
I will be haunted the rest of my life.  Living with that kind
of torment, I would run the risk of ruining any chance of
happiness we would have together.  I'm not willing to take
that chance.  I'd rather live a life of loneliness than do
anything that would hurt you Steven.

  Barbara has quit her job at the Base.  She has accepted an
executive secretary position for a real estate development
company in Idaho.  Her job starts in three weeks.  She's
told me that she will stay in California, and allow me to be
part of our child's life, but only if I marry her.  Otherwise
she will leave and do everything she can to prevent me
from ever seeing my child.  She's tightened the screws and
has left me with little choice.  I've agreed to marry her.
Romantic, huh?"

  I wasn't surprised, yet my heart momentarily failed.  Mark
was left with little choice.  Being the man that he is, I knew
he couldn't live with himself if he failed his child.

  "Mark, I understand and I respect the decision you've
made."

  "Stevie, I'm in love with you, not Barbara.  I still want to
get together.  I hope nothing has changed in your heart.
You promised me that nothing would change.  We vowed
that we would continue to make time for each other and
express our love physically - just like we did the other
night.  Please tell me nothing has changed."

  "You'll soon have very important responsibilities to meet.
I won't stand between you and those obligations.  But I will
always support you and love you.   Nothing has changed
between us, but the situation has changed."

  And that is how we left it.  We both knew that nothing
would ever compromise our love, but we accepted the fact
that we would be apart.

  Mark and Barbara married two weeks later.  It was a
simple civil service and I was on hand as the witness.  On
March 3, 1990, Patrick Steven Williams was born.

  Mark was the poster child advocating fatherhood.  Pride
was written across his face.  The love he felt for his son
was apparent in everything he did.  It's a good thing.

  Although Barbara loved young Patrick, the real reason for
his birth was painfully clear.  His conception, birth, and
young life, were orchestrated attempts to control and
manipulate Mark.  The only way she knew how to keep
Mark was to manipulate his conscience.  It was very hard
for me to keep my mouth shut and allow them to be a
family, dysfunctional as it was.  Gary was an enormous
help during those difficult times.

  One evening, several months after Mark and Barbara were
married, I desperately needed to talk with somebody.  I was
deeply depressed and losing interest in my work.  Dan and
Karen noticed the change and were concerned.  They both
spoke with me about it but I didn't feel I could open up with
them.  I think Dan had an idea what was wrong with me.
He stayed close by, and went the extra mile to help me out.

  I remembered Gary's offer to, "bend his ear," if ever I
needed to talk.  By then I had total trust in Gary and knew I
could tell him everything.  I called him and asked if he
could join me for dinner anytime soon.

  "Yes, I'd love to.  When?"

  "Any evening that works for you, the sooner the better."

  Right away he picked up on my need.  "What's wrong
Steven?  You sound troubled."

  "I am and I need to talk with somebody I can trust.  I
really want to talk with you Gary.  Do you mind?"

  "Of course I don't mind.  How about tomorrow, around
6:00 p.m.?"

  Gary arrived as promised.  I ordered a pizza.  I told him
everything about my relationship with Mark.  I explained
my confusion regarding my sexuality and voiced my fear of
spending the rest of my life alone.

  "I don't think Mark made the right decision," Gary said.
"Their marriage is designed to fail.  By being open with
their feelings, they both believe they are being honest.  But
they are being truthful in word only, not in deed.

  Real honesty begins in the heart and is displayed through
everyday actions and deeds.  That is love.  Mark doesn't
love Barbara and Barbara only thinks she loves Mark.  She
needs counseling, not a husband and child.  They may stay
together for a month, ten years, or who knows, maybe the
rest of their lives.  But they will never be happy, and the
child will ultimately pay the highest cost.

  Why did you let Mark get away from you?"

  "I thought he needed to make the decision himself, and I
didn't want to be responsible for regrets later in life."

  "You were right to let him make the decision himself, but
I see four people living their lives without God's greatest
gift - love."

  "Four?"

  "Yes.  Mark, Barbara, the child, and you.

  "What should I have done differently?"

  "I don't know.  Lord knows, I'm the last person to give
advice.  Look at me, I live alone and I'm afraid of giving
my heart to anybody.  All I know is this; you and Mark are
in love, and I sense that this is just the beginning of the
story.

  Do you feel like dating?"

  "No.  I can't imagine sharing that part of my heart with
another man."

  "What about a woman?"

  "Huh?"

  "Steven, you say you're bisexual.  You've already had
sexual relations with a woman.  The day we met, I watched
you staring at a young woman's breasts.  Do you think there
might be room in your life for sex, with a woman?  You
have sexual needs Steven.  They will need to be met.  Why
not a woman?  I wish I had that option."

  "No Gary, I don't think so.  On some level I'm attracted to
women, but my preference is for men.  My fantasies rarely
involve women and when they do, there is usually a man
involved.  I enjoy feminine beauty, but I rarely want it to
progress past appreciation.  I've never thought of myself as
Gay, but in all honesty, I don't want to have another
relationship with a woman.

  What did you mean when you said, "I wish I had that
option?"  I asked.

  "My lover's name was Greg.  We were together for 12
years.  I've never had sex with a woman and I've never had
the desire.  I'm Gay, totally and completely Gay.  I enjoy
women's company.  I find them to be sensitive and more in
tune with their Creator than most men.  They just don't
excite me sexually.  I sometimes wish I were bisexual."

  "For some reason I suspected that you were Gay, but
wasn't sure.  How do you reconcile your life style with your
faith?  The church is adamant in its stand against
homosexuality.  The Old Testament and even St. Paul's
writings are so homophobic.  It seems to me that the church
has scriptural authority supporting their views."

  "First off, I don't give a shit what the church or St. Paul
think of my life style. I'm not accountable to the church,
Paul or anybody else.  I'm accountable to God only.  This is
who I am, and I believe this is how God created me to be.
As I've said so many times, my only sin is that which
separates me from Jesus Christ.  If I pretend to be anything
other than who I am, then I'm lying to myself and to God.
For me, that would be the real sin.

  I don't remember a time that I wasn't attracted to men.
Even as a young child in the Midwest, I knew that I liked
men.  I loved looking at the young guys that helped on my
parent's farm.  By the time I was a teenager, I'd started
masturbating while fantasizing about the farm hands.
When I was 16, I had a totally satisfying sexual relationship
with one of them.

  Second, I believe that Scripture is one way that God
communicates with us.  It offers insight into God's patience
and long suffering for his people.  It portrays his amazing
love and introduces us to his Son.  It illustrates his personal
and redemptive nature, and offers hope.  But, it's not
infallible, and, it's not the only way God chooses to speak
with us.  There are other writings that also communicate
God's desire for his creation.  He speaks through science.
He speaks through nature.  He speaks to us through each
other.  But above all else, he speaks to our hearts.  And
Steven, I know in my heart, that I'm a Gay man who is
loved by the Creator of the universe."

 Gary's words have carried me through many dark and
questioning hours.  Although I remained unsure about my
sexuality, I no longer worried that God was mad at me or,
ashamed of me.  It was the beginning of a viable faith that
helped me during the difficult days following my dramatic
departure from Connie Latham and her ministry.

  Mark, who never went to church, and rarely said anything
about faith, probably had a better understanding of God's
grace than I did.  It took my love for Mark, years of self-
doubt, and the hypocrisy of the Connie Latham Ministries,
for my heart to finally understand the truth contained in
Gary's words.




Chapter 8 - The Darkness of the Soul

  Life marched forward.

  With the addition of the mail order catalog, my business
began to show a significant profit.  Dan and Karen proved
to be invaluable.  Karen, who wanted to be with her
children when they were out of school, volunteered to do
the monthly invoicing from her home.   Dan, who followed
me like a loyal and trusted dog, had the unique ability to
anticipate my needs.  On many occasions I would prepare
myself for a task, only to find that he had already taken
care of it.

  I would get together with Mark as often as possible, but it
was never enough for either of us.  Barbara was strangely
accepting of me and I was made welcome in their home.
We would take turns visiting each other.  Summer months
they would come to my place for barbecues and hikes.

  I grew to love Patrick and secretly wished that he and
Mark were living with me.  Just like his dad, he loves the
outdoors and nature.  He's always curious and full of
questions.  He wanted to know all about the plants in the
nursery and took great delight in feeding the chickens and
ducks that I keep.

  One summer, Mark and Barbara took a five-day vacation
to visit her parents in eastern Washington.  It was going to
be a fast trip and they asked if I would be willing to let
Patrick stay with me.  Of course I was thrilled.  Patrick was
only six years old but had the curiosity and intelligence of a
child much older.  He helped with the routine nursery
chores, fed the chickens and ducks, and together we
conducted simple science experiments.  We built a rain
gauge, which he took home and had dad install in their
small backyard.  Until they moved to Washington, Patrick
would call me after every storm, giving me a full report on
the amount of precipitation they received.

  Barbara developed an interest in horticulture.  Other than
our mutual love for Mark and Patrick, we finally had
something in common.  I got her involved in a horticultural
society that specialized in California native plants and
helped her begin a succulent and cactus garden in her
backyard.  Through our involvement in the society, we
developed many mutual friends and participated in the
same meetings.  I could sense Mark's happiness as the long-
time tension between Barbara and myself waned.  I actually
began to like Barbara.

  In early October 1999, the annual convention of the
Native Plant Society was to be held in Burbank. With
California native plants as my specialty, the nursery had
gained considerable attention within our organization.  I
regularly received requests for a tour.  Since Burbank is not
that far from my home, I decided to invite any interested
members to an informal tour of the nursery, followed by a
wine and cheese reception.

  The convention was scheduled to open Friday evening
with workshops and lectures on Saturday. The tour of the
nursery would be held late Sunday morning, with the
reception scheduled for 1:00 PM.  I mailed invitations to
every member of the society and was pleasantly surprised
when I received positive replies from 53 people.  Barbara
seemed genuinely thrilled when I asked her to co-host the
event with me.  This would be a great opportunity for her to
make some new and interesting friends.

  Barbara arrived at my home only moments before the first
guests arrived.  I knew that Mark would not be able to
attend, but I expected Barbara to arrive earlier.  I assumed
she got a late start, or perhaps she encountered unexpected
traffic.  I walked out to greet her as she was getting out of
her car.  She was as cold as ice.

  "What's wrong Barbara? I asked bewildered.

  "We need to talk as soon as this damn thing is over with.
What do you want me to do?"

  "Well, nothing much at this point.  Dan and Karen have
set up for the reception.  I was hoping you would help
conduct the tour.  With so many people coming, it might be
wise to divide the party into three groups.  Dan said he
would lead a group.  You and I could each lead a group."

  "Fine.  Let me know when you're ready."  She walked into
the house.

  The tour went well and I made many promising contacts
for future business.  Barbara and Dan each hosted groups of
15 people while I led a group of 18.  Thanks to Dan and
Karen, the reception ran smoothly.  I provided good wine.
A full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa County and
an oak flavored Chardonnay from the Central Coast.  The
large selection of cheese and hors d'oeuvres were well
received.

  After the last guest left, I approached Barbara.  I poured
each of us a glass of wine and asked her to join me on the
porch.

  "Barbara, what's wrong?  I'm very confused."

   I didn't know what to expect.  I certainly wasn't prepared
for what she asked me.  To her credit she maintained her
composure and never raised her voice.

  "Mark and I have been having serious problems lately.  If
he hasn't already, I'm sure he'll be talking with you soon.
Steven, I need to know something.  To what extent are you
involved with Mark?"

  "Involved?"

  "Sexually and romantically involved with my husband."

  Now I was really confused.  Unless Mark had told her
about our infrequent massage sessions, I didn't know what
she was getting at.  I played dumb.

  "Barbara, I don't know what you're talking about."

  "I know you're not a liar, so please be honest with me.
Mark confessed to me that you and he have been involved
sexually for the last nine years.  His exact words were,
'Steven is a hell of a lot better fuck than you are'.  Steven, is
this true?"

  "NO, it's not true.  I don't believe he said that to you.  I
mean, why?  It's not true," I repeated.  "I love Mark with all
my heart, you already know that Barbara.  The love we
share could, I suppose, be considered romantic.  But he
chose to marry you, not me.  I wouldn't violate the vows
you took.  Neither would he.  I haven't fucked Mark, or
anybody else, for that matter."

  "You know the conditions surrounding our marriage,
Steven.  You know how I forced him into marriage and I'm
guessing you know that he has never loved me.  I don't
know that he wouldn't cheat on me.  I was just surprised to
hear that you were involved."

  "I'M NOT.  I don't know what's going on here."

  She sat quietly and sipped her wine.  Finally she spoke.

  "I think I do," she said sadly.  "I'm sorry that I accused
you of this.  I know you're telling me the truth.  I need to go
now."

  She placed her nearly full glass of wine on the patio table.
After slowly standing up, she gently brushed my cheek
with her hand.

  "I'm really sorry if I've hurt you and spoiled the reception.
Mark will be calling you, I'm sure."

  She walked off of my front porch, got in her car, and
slowly drove down my long driveway.

  I went straight to the phone and dialed Mark's work
number.  It was Sunday, but I knew he would be working
the entire weekend.  There was no answer and his voice
mail didn't pick up the call.  That was odd.  I called his
home number and he answered the phone.

  "Mark, what the hell is going on," I asked.

  "Steven, I knew it would be you.  Has Barbara talked with
you?"

  "Yes, and I'm totally confused.  What is going on?  I
thought you were working today."

  "Can I come over and talk with you, face to face?"  I can
leave here in a few hours."

  "Yes."  I hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
Something was going on that involved me, and I was mad.
Little did I realize that what was about to unfold, would test
the strength of our friendship.

  Mark arrived at about 6:30 p.m.  I knew immediately that
he had been drinking.  I could smell alcohol on his breath
and his eyes were bloodshot.  He wasn't in any condition to
be driving, yet he'd just traveled 50 miles on the freeway.
What in hell was going on?  We went into the house and I
started a pot of coffee.  Mark sat down on the couch and
said nothing at all.

  "Did you drive all this way just to stare at me? I snapped."
Mark knew I was both angry and concerned.

  "I've done a terrible thing to you.  I lied to Barbara about
us.  I was angry and I lashed out in a way that I knew
would hurt her.  Oh shit, what have I done?"

  "I don't know what you've done, why don't you tell me
about it?"

  "My world is falling apart.  With all the gossip at work,
you know.... the changes going down.  I told you, right?
My job...I'm so on edge. Why is it so hot in here Steven?
What was I saying...?  I'm not thinking clearly.  Where was
I?  Oh yeah...Friday night... Barbara is acting nervous and
bitchy.  We need to talk..."

  There was a long pause as he stared at the ground.

  "I don't know what I'm saying Steven.... I'm so confused.
What's wrong with me.... Maybe I shouldn't have taken the
medicine..."

  I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol, worry, lack of sleep, or
a combination of all the above, but Mark was having a
difficult time talking.  His words were slurred and it was
hard to follow his thought process.

  "Mark, take it easy buddy.  It will be okay.  Just tell me
what's going on.  I've never seen you like this and you're
scaring me.  What medicine are you talking about?

  "I'm sick.  I've got Pneumonia and I'm on medication."

  "WHAT?  You're taking prescription drugs, you've been
drinking, and you're walking around with Pneumonia?
What the hell is the matter with you?

I placed my hand against his forehead and could tell he had
a fever.

"My God Mark, what are you trying to do buddy?"

  "I'm so unhappy Steven.  I don't know.  Everything is
falling apart around me.  Let me tell you what..."

  "Mark, stop talking for minute.  I'm very worried about
you.  When did you sleep last?"

  "I don't know."

  "You're exhausted.  I want you to get some sleep before
you tell me anything more, okay?"

  I didn't give him a chance to answer.  I led him to my bed
and helped him take off his shoes.  He agreed to try and get
some sleep and I covered him with the bedspread.  I leaned
over and kissed him gently.  I told him that I loved him.  He
managed a weak smile.



  The phone rang several times before Barbara picked up.

  "Barbara, it's Steven.  Mark is here and I'm very worried
about him.  I've put him to bed.  Do you know that he has
pneumonia?  He's evidently taking prescription medication
and, he's been drinking.  I have no idea how he got here
safely.  He can hardly talk, and what he does say makes
little sense.  Please tell me what is going on."

  "No, I didn't know he has pneumonia.  He's been coughing
a lot lately, and hasn't looked good.  But you know how he
is.  He'll never complain or admit that he is sick."

  "Well evidently he felt bad enough to go the doctor.  He
has a fever too.  I'll keep him here tonight. If he's still
feeling bad in the morning, I'll drive him home myself.  He
said his world is falling apart and something is going on at
work.  Do you know what that's about?"

  "For several months there have been rumors about an
upcoming lay off.  I think that's what he is worried about.
He hasn't said much to me about it.  I don't blame him
though; I haven't been easy to be around lately.

  Steven, most of this is my fault and I owe you an
explanation.  I'd like to start at the beginning, if you have
the time?"

  "If you're comfortable talking with me, and if you don't
think it will upset Mark.  I'm pretty sure he's asleep, so we
have time."

  "Friday night, I told Mark some things that I should have
been honest about before I ever moved in with him.  I didn't
realize that he was so sick, or the extent of his concern
about his job.  Had I known, I would have chosen a
different time to talk with him.  Anyway, he reacted badly.

  I'll start at the beginning:

  I had only been in Southern California two weeks before I
met Mark.  As you know, I went to work in the civilian
division at the Base.  My dad's company, although based in
Spokane, has many military contracts, including Edwards
Air Force Base.  My father had prearranged the job.  I
needed to leave Spokane quickly, so dad pulled the
necessary strings.

  Three months prior to my departure from Spokane, I gave
birth to a little girl.  Her name is Melissa.  My high school
sweetheart is the father, and he promised to marry me. Two
weeks before I gave birth, he had a change of heart.  'I'm
too young, I need my freedom' was all he said to me.
Within twenty-four hours he was gone.  He never even
stayed around to witness the birth of his little girl.

  I loved Carl with all of my heart, and I thought he loved
me too.  Part of me still believes that he did, but the reality
of becoming a father was just too much for him.  In that
regard, he is just the opposite of Mark.

  I was devastated, and shortly after giving birth, I tried to
kill myself.  It was only a half-hearted attempt, but it was a
good indication of my mental inability to raise an infant.
My older cousin and her husband agreed to raise Melissa.
The family all thought it would be best if Melissa never
learned who her real mother is.  As soon as I recovered
from my suicide attempt, I was whisked away to California.

  I missed Carl and Melissa terribly.  Everyday was a living
hell and I often wished my suicide attempt had been
successful.  Then I met Mark.  You can probably put the
rest of the story together yourself.  I wanted a family.  I
wanted a husband who would take care of me and help me
forget about Carl and Melissa.  I quickly sized up the
situation and realized that Mark fit the bill perfectly.
Incredibly good looking, secure job, educated, great sense
of humor and so genuinely kind.

  We started out as great sex partners, but for me, it quickly
turned into what I thought was love.  When Mark told me
about his childhood, and how much he missed not having a
father, I saw my trump card and I played my hand.  I
deliberately got pregnant.

   I've known all along that Mark is not in love with me.
I've tried to convince myself that it doesn't matter.  I have
the security I've longed for and a man who, although not in
love with me, treats me wonderfully.  Mark is a fantastic
father, and he's great in bed.

  Nine days ago I received a phone call from my cousin.
She tells me that she and her husband have split up, and
under the circumstances, feel that Melissa should be
returned to me.  Not only that, they have already told her
the truth.   Melissa will be arriving in California next week.

   I dumped all of this in Mark's lap on Friday night.  All he
said, before driving off, was that he needed some time to
think.

  When he returned, about an hour later, he was sullen and
looked very tired.  He told me that he would never trust me
again.  That's when he told me about the alleged sexual
relationship with you.  He fabricated the story to hurt me.

  Steven, you have every right to hate me.  I've treated you
as unfairly as I've treated Mark.  For what it's worth, I'm
very sorry.  Just when you and I really start enjoying each
other's company, this had to happen.

  Please Steven, don't hold any of this against Mark.  It
wasn't his fault, and he'll need your love more than ever."

  It was a lot to absorb.  I could hear Barbara's pain and
believed her remorse was genuine.  Gary's words, about her
needing a counselor, came back to me.

  "Barbara, I'm not mad at you.  Thank you for telling me
the truth.  Of course I still want to be your friend.  I won't
hold anything against Mark, although I'm hurt that he used
me to get back at you.  In trying to hurt you, he hurt me.
He must be under tremendous pressure, and I can tell he is
feeling badly about the lie.  I'll talk with him when he feels
up to it.  Either he or I will call you.  Are you okay?"

  "I can understand why Mark is in love with you Steven.
Thank you for understanding.  I'm sorry for being such a
bitch this morning.  Please call me when you can."



  I was very hurt over what Mark had done.  I felt like
something special had been taken from me.   Making love
to Mark was something I dreamed about every day of my
life.  I couldn't understand how he could take something
that was so meaningful to me, and use it as a weapon to
hurt Barbara.   Unfortunately, the longer Mark slept, the
longer I had to feel sorry for myself.  By the time he
awakened, I was not only hurt, but also annoyed.

  He walked into the living room shortly after 11:00 p.m.
He had been asleep for nearly five hours.  "How are you
feeling Mark?" I asked.

  "Better.  The sleep helped."

  He looked bad.  I could tell he was physically hurting.
His breathing was labored and his cough was nasty.

"How long have you had pneumonia?"

  "A couple of weeks.  I saw the doctor on Thursday and he
told me it was pretty bad.  He wanted to admit me to the
hospital, but I refused.  I couldn't miss work, or so I
thought."

  I was torn between worry and self-pity.  Part of me
wanted to wrap myself around him and make all of his
problems go away.  The other part, the selfish part, wanted
to lash out at him.

  "Mark, don't you ever drink alcohol while taking drugs
again.  You asshole!  You scared the shit out of me.  What
do you think would happen to me if you had been killed
driving over here?  What would Patrick do without his
daddy?  I don't know if I want to kiss you or beat the shit
out of you."

  "Well, I'm hoping you'll kiss me," he said with that damn
grin that gets me every time.

  I sat beside him on the couch and pulled his body close to
mine.  I leaned over and looked into his beautiful brown
eyes, then kissed his waiting lips.

  "I love you Mark, but you really scared me.  When were
you planning to tell me about the Pneumonia, and what is
going on with your job?  I called Barbara while you were
sleeping and she told me that..."

  "What the fuck did you call her for?  Why didn't you just
ask me?"

  He was suddenly agitated and pulled away from me.  This
was very unexpected from Mark.  I hoped it was just a
reaction to the combination of drugs, alcohol, worry and
pneumonia.  That's more than enough for any person to
handle.

  "I'm sorry Mark, I was worried about you and I thought
she might shed some light on what's going on.  Besides,
she was angry with me this morning and made some
accusations.  I am somewhat involved at this point."

  "I didn't know I had pneumonia until Thursday.  I thought
it was just a horrible cold.  I knew you had the convention
and tour this weekend, so I decided I'd wait until Monday
before telling you.

  My job, well...I was laid off on Friday afternoon.  The
entire Aerospace Industry is suffering and the government
is closing military bases.  I'm just one of the latest
casualties.  That too, I was planning to tell you on
Monday."

  I could see worry in his eyes.  I knew he was frightened.
"I'm sorry Mark.  The timing couldn't be worse."

  "Yeah, tell me about it.  Well, since you've spoken with
Barbara, I'm guessing you know about Melissa."

  The more he spoke, the angrier he became.  His face was
red and he started pacing.  By his posture, I could tell that
tension was gripping his back and neck.

  "Yes I know about Melissa.  I'll help any way I can."

  "NO!" he snapped.  "There is nothing you can do.  There's
nothing anybody can do to help.  I'm out of work; my wife
is a liar; I have another child to support; and you're fucking
mad at me."

  "Mark I'm not mad at you, I'm worried about you."  My
tone was harsher than I intended it to be.

  "Steve, stop the crap.  I know you well enough to know
when you're angry.  You're pissed off at me because I lied
to Barbara about us.  I told her we were having great sex,
and have been doing it for years.  It was a stupid thing for
me to say, but I guess you'll never understand what it's like
to make a mistake.  You always do everything right.  Your
life is perfect."

  "No Mark, I wasn't 'pissed off' at you, I was hurt.  NOW
I'M PISSED OFF.  Is that what you really think about me?
Shit, I've stood by you through everything.  I make plenty
of mistakes and you know about all of them.  What's this
all about?"

  "You live a charmed life and I'm jealous."

  "Would you feel better if my world fell apart?  Let me tell
you just how `charmed' my life is:

  I've loved you since the day we met.  I go to sleep every
night dreaming of what it would be like to fall asleep in
your arms, yet I wake up every morning alone.  I long to
make love to you, yet I'm painfully aware that you're
fucking your brains out with somebody else.  I daily pray
for your happiness, while my own joy eludes me.  I've
supported your marriage to Barbara, while my own heart
breaks.  A real fairy tale life, don't ya think?"

  "You mean to tell me that you're not fucking Gary or
Dan."

  The moment the words left his mouth I knew he regretted
saying them.  He immediately looked at the floor and
stopped talking.  There was an awkward silence before he
finally spoke.

 "Steven I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.  I don't know why
I'm yelling at you.  I didn't mean anything I've said.  I'm
so sorry."

  I knew the apology was sincere, but I was so hurt.  I felt as
if I couldn't breathe.  Without saying a word I stood up and
walked outside.  I remember that the cool night air felt
soothing against my skin, as I walked numbly amid the
trees in the nursery.  I couldn't understand what had just
happened.  I felt as if our friendship had ended, and with it
any reason I could ever have for happiness.

  I don't know how long I walked before I heard the screen
door shut.  I looked in the direction of the house and saw
Mark getting into his car.  Before I could get back he had
started his engine and was driving down my driveway
toward the gate.  I knew he was in no condition to be
driving and I panicked.  I ran into my house and began
searching for my car keys.  I always keep them on a hook,
by the phone, but they weren't there.  Forcing myself to
think clearly, I realized that they were in my pocket.  I had
never taken them out.

  I grabbed my cell phone and dashed for my car.  Mark had
a good five-minute lead and I was fearful that I wouldn't be
able to find him. I made the assumption that he would be
going home, so I drove toward Highway 14.  Reaching the
highway I spotted his car, just starting up the on ramp.  The
only thing I could do was follow.  If he had any problems,
at least I'd be there for him.

  He was driving surprisingly well.  Other than some minor
weaving, he did fine.  I followed him all the way to the
Rosamond Blvd. off ramp.  Mark's home was nearby and I
knew he would be safe.  I used my cell phone to call
Barbara.  Without going into detail, I told her that I had
followed Mark as far as the off ramp, just to be sure he
arrived home safely.

  Arriving home at 1:45 a.m., I sat down on my front porch
swing and allowed my bottled up emotions to come out.  I
cried until daybreak.  The early morning hours were chilly
so I walked into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.  I
felt like a hollow lifeless shell.  What was I ever going to
do?  Until that moment, I had never understood why
anybody would consider suicide. But now, as a feeling of
total hopelessness washed over me, I understood.  The next
few days would prove to be the hardest times I'd ever
faced.

  At 7:00 a.m. Dan pulled into the driveway in his old
Chevy pickup truck.  I met him on the porch with a cup of
coffee.  He thanked me as he took the cup from my hand.
He knew something was wrong.

  "Steven, are you not feeling well?" he asked with genuine
concern.

  "Dan, it's a very long story.  I need to get away.  Can you
watch the nursery for a few days?  If you'd like, you can
stay here at the house, it's up to you."

  "Sure Steve.  Karen and I can take care of everything.
Where are you going?"

  "I don't know.  I just need to get away, to think.  I'm sorry,
I didn't sleep at all last night.  I must sound even worse than
I look."

  It didn't take me long to shower and get ready to go.  As I
was leaving my bedroom, I noticed a note on my pillow.
Evidently Mark had written it when I went outside, the
night before.


Steven, I'm sorry.  I know I hurt you terribly.  I
don't know what's going on inside my head.  I didn't
mean any of what I said to you. You mean more to
me than life itself, and if I've lost your love, then
I've lost the entire world.  Please forgive me.

I need a few days to figure all of this out.
I'll be calling you soon.  Steven, you are my life, my
love and my greatest joy.  I'd do anything if I
thought I could take back my horrible words.
Please remember how much I love you.

            Mark


  I didn't think there were any tears left to cry, but there
were.  I sat on the edge of the bed and sobbed.  I kept
repeating, 'at least he still loves me'.

  Mark was right.  He would need a few days to sort
through everything that happened.  He didn't need me
interfering.  It would be good for both of us if I went away
for a few days.  Besides, I could use a vacation.



Chapter 9 - Highway 58 Revisited

  Dan met me at my car and told me not to worry.  Dan and
Karen know the business as well as I do.  I never worry
when they're in charge.  As I opened my car door, Dan put
his hand on my shoulder.

  "We all love you Steven, please be careful."  He hugged
me as I said goodbye.

  One of my favorite spots is the Central Coast of
California.  The small communities that are nestled
between the coast range of mountains and the Pacific
Ocean are like shining gems.  Artists, musicians and other
creative spirits call this area home.  The climate is as close
to ideal as you will find anywhere in the world.  Because of
the wonderful weather, many of the nurseries that I supply
are located here.

  I decided that I would spend a few days wandering from
Santa Barbara, up the coast to Cambria.  Any other time
this would have been an exciting and satisfying trip, but I
was missing Mark and beginning a downward spiral of
self-doubt and low self esteem.

  Santa Barbara is a beautiful community of remarkable
contrast.  Built around an early California Mission, the
community now extends from the coastline all the way up
the steep slopes of the mountains northeast of town.  On
some winter mornings you can stand at the shore and enjoy
the view of snow capped peaks not far away.  The town is
affluent, yet because of the favorable climate and tolerant
liberal attitudes, it's not unusual to find the homeless
camped outside the exclusive restaurants and shops along
State Street.

  I collect wine.  The Central Coast produces some of the
finest California vintages.  From Santa Barbara, I made my
way north, visiting the wineries throughout the Santa Ynez
Valley and Foxen Canyon.  I've always been partial to good
red wines, but on this trip I learned to enjoy Chardonnay.  I
bought several bottles of excellent wine.

  It's funny how we view experiences through the eyes of
those we love.  I would find myself saying things like,
'Mark would like that wine' or, 'Mark would really enjoy
that music'.  I spent the entire trip thinking about how much
I would love to have him with me.  If Mark were my life
partner, this is where I would like to spend our honeymoon.

  I ended my trip earlier than I anticipated.  After exploring
the coastline along Moro Bay, I decided to return home.  It
was just too painful wandering through this incredible area
alone. I wanted to share it with somebody.

  I took the long way home.  Highway 58 begins at the little
town of Santa Margarita, just north of San Luis Obispo.  I
decided to take this route because it tracks through familiar
territory and I was hoping it would trigger some good
memories.  As you travel east, the highway runs through
the Carizzo Plain, the place I met Kathy on the geologic
field trip years ago.  I stopped and explored some of the
sites we studied together.  I had heard that small herds of
Elk and Pronghorn Antelope had been reintroduced to the
region and was eager to see them.

  As I'd hoped for, wonderful memories of Kathy, college
and my new friendship with Mark came flooding back. As
successful as my life had become, I missed those wonderful
college days.  Laughter came so easily then.  Of course I
was as poor as any other college kid was, yet in those days
it didn't seem to matter.  When Mark was around it was
easy to have fun.  Mark never tried to have a good time; he
was a good time.  He would find humor in everything and
when I was with him, so did I.  And, it was never the kind
of humor that required a victim.  We never made fun of
anybody or anything; why should we?  When we were
together life was filled with joy, mirth and even the
mundane was perfectly satisfying.  Once again Gary's
words came back to me, "Steven, why did you let Mark get
away from you?"  I no longer had a good answer to that
question.

  Continuing east, Highway 58 crosses the Temblor Range
of mountains and drops dramatically into the vast Central
Valley of California.  Here, agriculture is king.  You can
drive for endless miles through orchards, vineyards and
here, on the west side of the San Joaquin Valley, cotton.
Oil is also a major industry in this part of the state.

  I stopped to eat in Bakersfield before I began the climb up
the west side of the Tehachapi Mountains.

  Arriving in Tehachapi, I stopped at the Tehachapi News,
hoping to find Tom.  I was lucky, he was there.  I hadn't
had many opportunities to visit with Tom since he helped
me move, years ago.  I missed his friendship.  Always
friendly and outgoing, he is the type of guy you would like
to have as a neighbor.  Tom is married to Marianne and
they have two children.  He seemed equally glad to see me.
We visited for about an hour and we promised to try and
get together more often.   I left a couple bottles of wine
with him.

  As badly as I wanted to see Mark, I was very
apprehensive to make contact.  I guess I was worried that
he would feel differently.  I reminded myself of the note
he'd left for me, but who knows what may have developed
as he tried to make sense of his life?

  Part of the reason I chose this route home, was because it
would take me through the small desert town of Rosamond,
where Mark and Barbara lived.  I knew that I needed to
stop.  I reached for my cell phone and was surprised to find
that I didn't have it with me.  Evidently in my distress and
hurry to leave home, I'd forgotten it.  I debated whether or
not I should just drop in on Barbara and Mark without a
phone call.  I decided to stop.

  Barbara came to the door. When she saw me, she burst
into tears and threw her arms around me.

  "Where have you been Steven, we've been so worried?
Mark is absolutely beside himself with worry, he's out
looking for you now."

  "I just took a few days vacation.  I needed to do some
thinking and clear my head.  Why didn't you call me?"  As
I spoke, I remembered that I'd forgotten my cell phone.

  "We did, constantly, and you never answered your phone.
Mark has spoken with Dan.  All he could tell him, was that
you left unexpectedly and that you looked totally lost.  He
said that you hadn't slept and that you appeared to have
been crying.  He and Karen are worried about you too.  So
is Gary."

  "Gary?  How did he get involved?"

  "Mark called him after he spoke with Dan.  Please Steven,
come in and sit down.  I'm so relieved to see you."

  I had never thought that my abrupt departure would cause
so much trouble.  I never thought it through.  I was too
wrapped up in my own grief to think about the possible
consequences.

  "I'm so sorry Barbara, I didn't mean to cause all of this
concern.  I forgot to bring my cell phone.  I also knew that
you and Mark had problems to work out and didn't need my
interference.  So I decided to take an overdue vacation.  I'm
really sorry.  I didn't mean for this to happen.  Where is
Mark now?"

  "I don't know.  I think he and Dan were going to meet and
try and figure out what to do.  Gary may have joined them."

  "Can I use your phone?  I need to call Dan."

  Dan picked up the phone right away and I got much the
same reaction from him that I did from Barbara.  If nothing
else, I certainly felt loved.  I was grateful for such good
friends.  After explaining what had happened, I asked about
Mark.

  "Steven, I think he is headed home.  He met Gary and me,
here.  We decided that if we didn't hear from you by
tomorrow morning, we were going to go to the police and
ask for help.  Mark is falling apart Steve.  He thinks you
may have done something stupid and is blaming himself.  I
think you better stay put and wait for him.  He left here
about 30 minutes ago.  Would you like me to call Gary for
you?"

  "Thanks Dan, I'd like that.  Let him know that I'm fine and
will call him tomorrow.  Dan, thank you for your friendship
and for caring so much about me."

  "I love you man," he said, and hung up the phone.

  In about 20 minutes Mark burst through the front door.
He evidently saw my car parked out front and wasted no
time getting into the house.  The weight of his body hit me
full force as he ran to embrace me.  I almost toppled over
backwards.  I became very self-conscious as he kissed me,
full on the lips, in front of Barbara.  When he finally
released me I looked in Barbara's direction.  She gave me a
radiant smile.

  "I'll leave you boys alone, you have much to talk about,"
she said, and left the room.

  I was reminded just how much she had changed over the
years.  She no longer resented me or my relationship with
her husband.  Not only had she accepted our relationship,
but was also encouraging it.  I made a mental note to talk
with her about it sometime.

  "Thank God you are Okay, you scared me so badly
Steven.  I thought maybe you'd..." his voice faltered and the
tears began to flow.  "I was worried that you'd..."

  "That I'd left you?"

  "Yes Stevie, or worse."  Why didn't you answer your
phone?  What would I have done without you?  Forgive me
for all of those horrible things I said.  Please don't ever
leave me again."

  "Mark, I didn't leave you.  How could I possibly leave the
source of all my happiness?"  I just needed to get away for
a few days and deal with my own issues.  I was hurting,
badly.  I thought you no longer loved me.  I didn't answer
my phone because I stupidly forgot to bring it with me.

  Mark, we need to talk."

  "Okay. Let's sit down."

  "You accused me of never making mistakes.  You're
wrong Mark.  I once made an enormous mistake, and it
haunts me every day of my life."

  "What is it Steven?"

  "I let you get away from me.  That night in Red Rock
Canyon, in your tent, I almost asked you to make love to
me.  Instead of listening to my heart, I succumbed to fear,
and said nothing.

  Now it's too late, and I'll pay the price for my timidity the
rest of my life.  I'll never break up your family, Mark.

And while we're talking honestly - your sister is the only
person I've ever had sex with.  Not any of the girls I dated,
not Dan, and not Gary.

  Gary is Gay.  I think he would be willing to go to bed with
me, but I've never pursued that.  And it's not because I don't
find him attractive.  He's very attractive and he appeals to
me.  But Mark, you are the only person, male or female,
that I want to be with.

  Dan is a good friend, and in truth, I love him too.  That
doesn't mean that I want to have sex with him.  Mark, if I
can't make love to you, then I'd rather not make love to
anybody.  I hope you know how serious I am about that."

  "I know that Steven.  Let me tell you why I said what I
did."

  Mark's eyes clouded over and I could sense the depth of
his pain.

  "I'm so afraid of losing you, Steven.   You spend a lot of
time with those guys.

  You have so much in common with Gary.  You share a
faith that I don't understand and he can offer you so much
that I can't.  Don't misunderstand me, I really like Gary.  I
want him as my friend too.

  I'm jealous of the time you spend with Dan.  You work
together everyday, and at night you go out drinking
together.  I want to spend that much time with you too.  Do
you know that Dan would go to bed with you if you asked
him to?

  "No way."

  "Yeah, it's true.  I can see it in his eyes when he looks at
you.  He loves you and I don't blame him one bit.  Gary and
Dan are both single, they're both handsome and I'm so
afraid I'll lose you Stevie."

  "Mark, that will never happen.  Let's not do this to each
other again. Just know that with or without sex, you are the
only person for me."

  "I can't expect you to live your life without sex.  I know I
couldn't.  Barb and I talked about that last night.  Do you
know that she cares for you very much?  So much so, she's
willing for the three of us to have sex.  She would welcome
you into our marriage bed.  What do you think of that?"

  "Well, I've come to care for Barbara too.  She's had a
rough road to hoe and she's grown a lot.  Although I don't
agree with what she did, I can understand why she
manipulated you into marriage. I can also understand why
she didn't tell you about Melissa.  She's been hurt badly and
she reached out for love and security the only way she
knew how.  But Mark, I can't be part of a threesome.  It just
wouldn't work for me."

  "I know, and I told her you would say that.  Barbara
knows that you're the love of my life.  I love her too; we've
been through a lot together.  But she's accepted that my
heart belongs to you.  If I asked for permission to have sex
with you, she would probably say yes.  She is actually quite
remarkable."

  "I know she is Mark. but please don't ask her that."

  A momentary look of disappointment crossed his
handsome face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile.

  "As long as you love me, it doesn't matter," he said.
"Don't ask me why, but I know our day will come."

  With that said, he leaned over and kissed me long and
passionately.  He took my hand and placed it under his
shirt, directly over his heart and said,  "Sweetheart, this
belongs to you alone."



  One month later, Mark, Barbara, Patrick and Melissa
moved to Deer Park, Washington.  Barbara's dad arranged
for Mark to go to work at his firm.  Mark is an excellent
aeronautical engineer, but with the numerous military base
closures and cutbacks in the aerospace industry, he couldn't
find work in California.

  Mark was struggling with unemployment.  I'm convinced
that there is something genetically built into the male
psyche that equates self worth with financial success.
When the opportunity for work opened up for him in
Washington, I was the first to encourage him.

 They purchased a home on five acres of land, and I felt it
would be an excellent location to grow shrubs and trees that
do best in a four-season climate.  Lilacs, many fruit trees,
and certain bulbs require a winter chill factor that I cannot
adequately provide in Southern California.

  Barbara had become quite knowledgeable in ornamental
horticulture, and I suggested that she partner with me in the
nursery.  Since I was now online with my catalog, this was
the opportunity I was looking for.  It would also ensure that
we would visit frequently and my fear of losing contact
with Mark was somewhat appeased.

  Mark settled into his new job while Barbara created a
scaled down version of the nursery.   Barbara and I
communicated via e-mail and Mark and I spoke on the
phone, almost daily.  Patrick too, would call his "Uncle
Stevie" to discuss weather fronts, volcanoes, the Columbia
River and the flora and fauna of Eastern Washington.
Patrick is destined to be a biologist.  He has his father's
natural curiosity and keen scientific mind.

  Dan, Karen and Gary kept me busy. They are absolutely
the best friends anybody could ever have.  But I wanted a
lover.

  Once again I began questioning my sexuality and self
worth.  I knew that either Gary or Dan would sleep with
me, but I couldn't get past my love for Mark.  I even knew
that Mark would understand if I had sex with either of
them, but that was little consolation.  I just couldn't do it.

    Gary completely understood how I felt.  He never pushed
me into sex, but gently let me know that he was available.
Dan, like Mark, is probably bisexual and he too let me
know, in subtle ways, that he would not refuse me.

  One evening in late October 2000, I received a phone call
from Barbara.  She asked if it was possible for me to come
to Washington for a few days.  I could tell by the tone in
her voice that something was going on, but she wasn't
telling me what.

  "Is something wrong Barbara?" I asked.

  "No, nothing is wrong, but it's important that Mark and I
see you.  It isn't something that I would be comfortable
discussing over the phone.  Besides, November 14th is your
35th birthday and it would be nice if we could celebrate it
with you."

  Even though she tried to assure me that nothing was
wrong, I knew something was going on, and of course I
imagined the worst.  I was worried that there might be a
serious health problem with one of them.  I hadn't taken a
day off since my hasty trip to the coast following the
argument, so I agreed to go.  The plan was to fly into
Spokane on November 13th and stay with the Williams' for
one week.



  "The pilot has turned the seat belt light on.  We are
starting our descent and will be landing at San Francisco
International Airport in ten minutes.  All passengers are
asked to return to their seats, bring their chairs to a full
upright position, and fasten their seat belts."

  The voice of the flight attendant brought me back to the
present.  Lost in my memories, the flight to San Francisco
seemed to have taken no time at all.


To be continued


Thank you for the generous support.  I've received many
messages of encouragement and I'm sincerely thankful for
each one.  I feel as if I've made new friends, all over the
world.

I'll try to answer every message as quickly as possible.
Please e-mail me at: rustynail920@yahoo.com

Mark