Date: Fri, 09 May 2003 15:01:21 -0500
From: A. Janes <aj2637@earthlink.net>
Subject: Now Let Me Get This Straight, part 3

Now Let Me Get This Straight, part 3
By Austin Janes

Edward fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow and towards dawn
began to dream. He seemed to be in the park watching two squirrels chase
one another. The agile creatures were undulating like sine waves as they
sped to and fro. As sometimes happens in dreams, the perspective changed
mysteriously, and it was now Edward himself who was being chased by another
man. Try as he might, he couldn't make out the other man's face. Edward
could feel the adrenaline pumping as he tried to outrun his pursuer. He
tore around the corner of a building in the park and suddenly found himself
at a dead end. Paralyzed now against a wall, he saw the man approach him
casually, masterfully. He could only watch as the man came up to him,
pressing his body against Edward's, the man's hands flat against the wall
on either side of Edward's head, pinning him. He could feel the warmth of
the man's breath. The man then lifted up Edward's chin and brought his lips
gently to Edward's. Edward couldn't resist the kiss. He felt the man's
tongue penetrate his mouth, demanding submission. He pressed back hungrily,
trying to lose himself in the man's embrace...

Edward's eyes popped open. His hands, which had been resting on his chest,
moved down gingerly to inspect the warm wetness in his crotch. "Oh,
yuck..." he thought, as he threw off the covers and stumbled his way to the
bathroom. He switched on the lights and was momentarily blinded. Then,
shedding his soiled boxers, he wadded them up and threw them in a
corner. Naked now, he cleaned himself up as best he could with a cold
washcloth before stumbling back to bed. As he started to drift off to sleep
again, he thought "I haven't had a wet dream in years..." Then, just at the
moment of sleep, he was startled back into consciousness by the sudden
realization that the man in his dream was--Mr. D'Arcy! Panic gripped
him. His heart raced, and it was more than an hour before he could finally
fall asleep once more.

Years of regular habits made it impossible for Edward to sleep much past
eight o'clock. He and Josh had agreed that because of their late night at
the opera ball, they would go to the eleven o'clock service at St. Sciurus
instead of the one at nine. Nevertheless, as soon as he got up Edward
showered, trimmed his beard and dressed for church, albeit more casually
than usual. He was still bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, but managed to
notice the three inches of snow on the ground when he went out to get the
newspapers. He started the coffee brewing and sat down in his favorite
chair ready to start the New York Times crossword puzzle. After filling in
the first few words his mind wandered back to his dream.

In the bright morning light, Mr. D'Arcy no longer held the same power over
him. He was sure he could put him back in the box of forbidden sexual
thoughts and file it on a shelf in the far reaches of his
libido. "Mr. D'Arcy's not even gay," he thought. "He's just some homophobic
rich guy who likes opera. That's all."  But what about his friendship with
Mr. Bingley? How could Mr. D'Arcy be homophobic? "Well, Mr. Bingley is
another rich guy, so Mr. D'Arcy could conveniently ignore his sexual
orientation." And in a like manner, Edward continued to convince himself
that Mr. D'Arcy could be safely ignored.

Meanwhile, in the morning room of a large mansion on Portland Place,
someone was thinking about Edward. Caroline Bingley, too, had awoken
earlier than she had wanted to. The housekeeper had Sunday off, so
Ms. Bingley thought there wouldn't be any coffee when she came downstairs
in her thick terrycloth bathrobe, but someone--probably her brother--had
programmed the coffee maker to come on automatically in the large, newly
renovated kitchen, and she was able to help herself. As she sat with her
legs crossed under her in an overstuffed armchair near the window, coffee
mug in hand, looking out over the snow-covered grounds, she missed entirely
the bright red cardinal perched on a nearby branch chirruping his morning
song. She was deep in thought.

Mr. D'Arcy might think himself to be cautious, but he was no match for
Ms. Bingley's perspicacity. She had noticed him watching Edward. Her
suspicions were somewhat allayed by his caustic remark about the poor man,
but Mr. D'Arcy's continuing interest in Edward was readily apparent to
her. She had no doubt that Mr. D'Arcy was gay. She even surmised that he
had had an affair with her brother, although she also could tell that the
relationship had cooled off. But she was damned if she was going to allow
Mr. D'Arcy to waste himself on someone like Edward. She had other plans for
Mr. D'Arcy.

Having grown up in a middle class environment, Ms. Bingley yearned for
better things. Her older sister, Louisa, had settled for her high school
sweetheart, Tommy Hurst, who had gone right from high school to a job at a
casino in Atlantic City. He had worked his way up to blackjack dealer, and
the couple now had the prescribed 2.3 children, a Ford Windstar minivan,
and a golden retriever named Max. Their brother's unexpected success was
Ms. Bingley's ticket out of mediocrity--or so she hoped. His influence got
her a job at one of the premier art galleries in New York, Soba Nudla in
SoHo, something her art history degree from Hudson County Community College
would never have done. Her relationship with her brother also allowed her
to take time off frequently from her job "because Chaz needs me". It was
doubtful she was much needed around the gallery anyway. But the
disadvantage of her brother's company was that the men she met through him
tended to be gay.

When Mr. D'Arcy arrived on the scene, she easily figured out his
relationship with her brother. She could also see how hard Mr. D'Arcy tried
to conceal his sexual orientation. Though she would not have read the
article in The Gayzette, she knew instinctively that someone in
Mr. D'Arcy's position and at his age would be looked upon as suspect if he
remained a bachelor. Ms. Bingley thought Mr. D'Arcy was in need of a
wife--and she herself was the perfect choice. She was pretty enough, thin
enough and, with Mr. D'Arcy's money, would be rich enough to be the ideal
trophy wife--or beard, to be more exact. She was even convinced that, given
time, Mr. D'Arcy would also find her sexually fulfilling. To her way of
thinking, a gay man--especially a rich, handsome one like Mr. D'Arcy--only
needed the right woman to restore him to heterosexuality. And even if that
didn't work, there were lots of things worse than being married to a gay
Mr. D'Arcy. He would have his peccadilloes and she would have hers. It
could be an arrangement beneficial to them both.

At the same time, her brother was her fallback position. She considered
herself indispensable to him, and acted more or less as his social
secretary. She could put up with his ridiculous do-gooding notions because
of the parties and other social events they brought with them. What she
could not tolerate, however, was some geeky upstart like Josh Bennett
replacing her in her brother's life. She had plans for her brother, too.

Mr. D'Arcy's half-brother, Stan, was still a bit of an "unknown quantity"
to Ms. Bingley. Mr. D'Arcy didn't talk a lot about him, but reading between
the lines, she had determined that he must be gay, too. She knew Chaz had
met him and seemed to like him, so why not get the two of them together? If
this "gay business" was kept in the family, her dream bubble of wealth and
fame was much less likely to be burst by some sordid scandal. At present,
the Bennett cousins were not an immediate threat, as she perceived it, but
they would bear watching.

While Caroline Bingley drank the last mouthful of coffee in her mug, hoping
against hope her brother would be up soon to make breakfast, the geeky
upstart was descending the staircase over at the townhouse on Laclede
Avenue. He found the pot of coffee with two empty mugs beside it, filled
them both up and brought them into the living room, where his cousin was
ostensibly doing the crossword puzzle but rather seemed to be staring off
into space.

"Tough clue, Eddie?" Josh asked.

Edward looked up from his daydreaming. "What? Oh, the puzzle! My mind must
have wandered off."

Josh handed him a mug of coffee and sat in the chair beside his
cousin's. Edward noticed he was wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and hiking
boots.

"Aren't you going to church with me this morning, Josh?"

"Whadda ya mean?"

"You're wearing jeans and boots."

"So are you, dude!" Josh countered with a quizzical smile.

Edward realized he, too, had on a flannel shirt, jeans and boots. He
colored and quickly explained, "It's kinda messy out there this
morning. The sun is melting the snow, and I thought the walk to church
might be sloppy."

"Bingo!" replied Josh. He was amazed at how easily Edward blushed--and
often for the oddest reasons. "Eddie, you are like a major space cadet this
morning! What up, dude?"

Edward was reluctant to mention Mr. D'Arcy. "I'm just tired from last
night, I guess. How 'bout you? You look raring to go!"

"'Raring to go'?" Josh smirked. "You are too weird for words sometimes,
Eddie!"

"What? It's a legitimate expression," Edward said, affecting a look of
offended dignity. "Despite what you think, Josh, I'm not an antique yet."

"No, you just play one on TV!" Josh shot back.

Edward looked for something to throw at him. Failing that, he took a noisy
slurp from his coffee mug trying hard not to laugh. The pair then sat in
silence for a few minutes each lost in his own thoughts.

Finally Josh began, "I had a really good time last night, Eddie."

"I gathered that," replied Edward with a wry smile.

"But you know that 'lost half' thing I was telling you about? I don't think
Chaz is my lost half, after all."

Edward was suddenly very concerned. He looked at his cousin
carefully. "Josh, what happened?"

"Oh, nothin' really. It's just...Chaz is so awesome! He was like totally
nice to me and everything, but I got to thinkin', what the fuck does some
git from Geekville like me have to offer to a superstud like Chaz Bingley?
As Charlotte said, he's way outta my league."

"As you will recall, Charlotte said that the opera ball was way out of your
league--not Charles Bingley. And she was wrong about the ball. You fit in
beautifully!" Edward was quick to defend his cousin from his own
self-doubts. He waxed eloquent, extolling Josh's many virtues: his
consideration and generosity to others, his cheerful temperament, his
killer good looks and even his humility. Edward finished his encomium, "In
many ways, Josh, you're like too good for that Bingley dude!"

Josh laughed at Edward's imitation of his speech patterns. "You're just
saying that 'cause I'm your cousin."

"And who should know better than someone who's watched you grow up,
witnessed your triumphs and failures and even knows which nostril you pick
first?"

"Hey, dude! I don't pick my nose!" Now Josh was looking for something to
throw.

When Edward stopped laughing, he said, "Look, Josh, it was obvious even to
me that Chaz likes you a lot, and how can you argue with the opinion of a
superstud? I can't tell you that some meaningful relationship is going to
develop between you two. But so what? Enjoy what you have now and let the
future take care of itself."

"Que sera sera! Thank you, Miss Doris Day!"

"How does a mere infant like you know who Doris Day is?"

"Hey, Eddie, ever heard of the AMC channel?" Josh thought the acronym stood
for "Antique Movie Channel". "She's starred in mucho movies with Rock
Hudson, and gettin' it on with him is like my all-time favorite jerk-off
fantasy!"

"Ooh, Josh, let's not go there! Don't we have a church service to go to or
something? Why don't you go grab your coat and the bag of canned goods for
the food pantry donation, and I'll turn off the coffee pot."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It being the season of Advent, Father Clarence's sermon was about what it
meant to wait in hope for the coming of a Savior. Believing that the mind
can only absorb what the seat can endure, Father Clarence never spoke for
more than twenty minutes. And in that twenty minutes, Edward listened
carefully relating what the aging priest said to his own
circumstances. Edward, too, seemed to be waiting for something or someone
to come into his life. Could some sort of other worldly Savior really fill
the void that was inside him? It certainly hadn't happened to him yet. And
how do you continue to wait when all hope seems to be gone? Edward decided
it was best not to think too much about those things.

Josh, Edward and Charlotte always sat together near the front of the
Tudoresque church. After the final hymn was sung, the trio turned about to
file out with the rest of the congregation. They quickly noticed
Mr. Bingley who was in the last pew signaling to them. Josh's countenance
lit up as they approached their new friend. Edward was impressed to see
that Mr. Bingley had dressed in a black wool turtleneck--probably
cashmere--black slacks, a black lambskin bomber jacket and black leather
boots that had obviously never encountered a rain drop much less slushy
snow; Mr. Bingley was one hot commodity that morning, and his explanation
that he had decided to try St. Sciurus after Josh had recommended it so
highly the previous night was transparently false to at least two of the
people he was addressing. Indeed, Mr. Bingley had not darkened the inside
of a church since he was thirteen and that was to attend an Easter service
at Mount Springfield United Methodist Church in Nutley, New Jersey.

With Josh and Mr. Bingley in front and Charlotte and Edward bringing up the
rear trading knowing looks and smiles with each other, the four went out
into the vestibule to greet Father Clarence. The priest, of course, warmly
welcomed Mr. Bingley and urged him to come again whenever he was in
town. To Edward, he said, "You're looking very well this morning!"

"Have you had the prescription for your glasses checked recently, Father
Clarence?" Edward replied with puzzlement. "I look like hell this morning!"

Father Clarence giggled in a most unpriestly way, "Perhaps I wasn't talking
about your physical self, my dear Edward. You have a most healthy spiritual
glow about you!"

"Now I know you're going blind!" Edward laughed. "But I did appreciate your
sermon."

"Thank you, Edward. I know I can always count on at least one member of the
congregation to stay awake. So, are you and your friends off to meet your
father at Nikko's?"

"Oh, my Go...sh!" Edward quickly caught himself. "I forgot all about my
father! We better run..." Almost every Sunday since his father's
retirement, Edward, Josh and Charlotte would walk from church to Nikko's
Cafˇ for a late breakfast with Mr. Bennett. Edward had forgotten,
however, to tell him that they would be attending the later service that
morning, so he worried that his father would have been sitting there
waiting for them for over an hour.

As they hurried out of the church, Charlotte had the foresight to ask
Mr. Bingley if he would like to join them for breakfast. He begged off,
temporarily at least, saying that he needed to take care of some things at
home. He did offer to drive them to the cafˇ, but when they got to his
BMW Z4 "Maldives blue" roadster, it was glaringly apparent that it would
only accommodate two people. In an amazing show of gallantry, Josh urged
Charlotte to take the passenger seat, but it didn't take much persuading by
her and Edward to send off Josh with Mr. Bingley. Edward and Charlotte then
took off at a quick pace to traverse the necessary four blocks.

Nikko's Cafˇ was run by a family of second generation Greek-Americans
and was a Central West End institution known especially for its fabulous
breakfast food. Edward had a particular weakness for the gyros omelet and
ordered it frequently. The place was buzzing with people when Charlotte and
Edward arrived, and it took a few moments for them to spot Josh and
Mr. Bennett seated at a table for eight in a far corner. With them were two
men and a young woman. One of the men was Colonel Foster and next to him
sat his new wife, Madison.

Colonel Foster was the commander of the U. S. Army Recruiting Battalion in
St. Louis and a regular patron at Nikko's. A man in his middle fifties,
still fit, with a full head of graying hair and a bushy moustache to match,
the perennial bachelor was presumed by most people to be gay, although
heavily closeted--the military being what it is. Many eyebrows shot up,
therefore, when Colonel Foster first brought a young woman less than half
his age to the cafˇ one Sunday in the October just past and announced
that she was his bride.

Seated across from Colonel Foster and next to Mr. Bennett was an attractive
man with strawberry blond hair and twinkling blue eyes also in military
uniform whom Edward had never seen before. Introductions were made and
Edward soon learned that the man had been transferred recently from the
Recruiting Battalion in New York to the one in St. Louis. He was Sergeant
First Class Henry Wickham, but he insisted that everyone call him Hank.

Edward apologized profusely to his father for not telling him they would be
late getting to Nikko's, but Mr. Bennett simply replied, "Ed, my boy, you
worry too much! I've been having a great time swapping war stories with
Hank and the Colonel. I didn't even realize you were late 'til Josh came
running in here with his ass on fire." Everyone laughed except Edward, who
never did understand his father's sense of humor. He also wondered what
"war stories" he could have been swapping, since Mr. Bennett had never been
in the military--he'd been too young for the Korean War and too old by the
time the country became mired in Vietnam. Edward sighed and sat down in a
chair that Sgt. Wickham had pulled out for him.

The sergeant had an engaging charm that put everyone immediately at
ease. His lively inquiries about St. Louis and the neighborhood soon made
Edward feel like he was talking to an old friend. He couldn't help but
notice that the sergeant was paying a lot of attention to him, and after
surreptitiously establishing that there was no wedding band to be seen, he
began to wonder if just perhaps Sgt. Wickham was coming on to him. Unlike
the tumult of emotion set off by Mr. D'Arcy, the prospect of a little
harmless flirting with the soldier sitting next to him seemed quite
agreeable. Their conversation was interrupted, however, when Edward chanced
to overhear a remark his father was making to Colonel Foster.

"You know, Colonel, I'd always wished that Ed had gone into the military."

"Oh, Dad, please!" Edward was beginning to get flustered. "You never told
me that before!"

"Well, I'm telling you now," Mr. Bennett continued. "It might've made a man
out of you."

Edward blushed furiously, but Sgt. Wickham came to his rescue.

"Sir, the military isn't for everybody. I intended to follow a different
career path myself, but..." Sgt. Wickham looked down as if he were
remembering a painful time in his life. "Well, it didn't quite work out
that way, and I found a home in the army instead." He then changed the
subject, and the arrival of the waiter to take the orders of the newcomers
spared Edward from any further scrutiny.

During the meal, Sgt. Wickham regaled Edward with tales of army life and
other adventures making him forget the incident with his father. The
sergeant was in the middle of a story about boot camp at Fort Jackson,
South Carolina, when Edward noticed Josh's expression suddenly become more
animated. Edward turned around to see Mr. Bingley and Mr. D'Arcy entering
the cafˇ. The two men quickly spotted the group in the corner and made
their way over to them.

Mr. Bingley greeted the people he knew and was soon introduced to those he
didn't. Mr. D'Arcy, after a brief hello to Edward, had determined not to
fix his eyes on him and had turned away when he noticed
Sgt. Wickham. Edward was astonished to see that both men clearly reacted to
one another, the one turning white, the other red. Finally, regaining his
self-composure Sgt. Wickham gave Mr. D'Arcy a mock salute and the other
looked away barely acknowledging the greeting. "What the hell was that all
about?" Edward wondered to himself and longed to find out.

Mr. Bingley apologized for not being able to stay for breakfast. Restaurant
business of his own beckoned him, even on a Sunday, he explained. But he
extended an invitation to the New Year's Eve opening of his restaurant once
again to the whole group.

"What kind of restaurant are you opening up?" Mr. Bennett asked him.

"Italian, Mr. Bennett. We'll be offering the specialties of Tuscany!"

"Well, I hope you do a good marinara sauce, Mr. Bingley. You can't make it
with an Italian [Mr. Bennett pronounced it 'EYE-talian'] restaurant in this
town unless you do a good marinara sauce."

Edward prayed for a hole to open in the earth and swallow him
up. Mr. D'Arcy was pointedly looking out the window. Mr. Bingley merely
laughed and replied, "I'll make sure we have the best red sauce you ever
tasted!"

The two men said their goodbyes and were just about out the door when
Mr. Bennett said to no one in particular, "Doesn't that Bingley fellow own
a razor? I know it's the weekend, but the man could have at least shaved."

Edward quickly responded, "Dad, not so loud! Mr. Bingley may have heard
you."

"What do I care if Osama bin Bingley heard me or not?"

"Dad, that kind of beard is fashionable right now for men."

"You're puttin' me on, Ed! No one would intentionally want to look like
that."

Realizing he was never going to win this argument with his father, Edward
asked Sgt. Wickham to finish his story about Fort Jackson. The sergeant
picked up the thread of his story again as if the recent interruption had
not occurred and soon had the group enthralled once more.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

As they were leaving Nikko's, Mr. Bennett pulled a piece of paper out of
his coat pocket and handed Edward a printout of an e-mail he had recently
received.

"Ed, you better deal with this. Your Uncle Ned forwarded it to me. It's
from some kook named Bill Collins. He claims he's related to your mother. I
also e-mailed it to you, but I know you don't check your e-mail very
often." This was a rebuke to Edward who was often taken to task if he
didn't answer his father's e-mails within the hour they were sent. "Sounds
like the guy is planning to come here this week and is looking for a place
to stay."

"Dad, Lydia is coming this week. I can't possibly put up anyone else."

"Well, don't look at me. I've just got the one bedroom."

Edward decided he needed to look at the e-mail himself.

<<From: traiNED@cybernaut.com <<Date: Saturday, December 7, 2--- <<Subject:
Fwd: remembrances of things past...  <<To: Jbennett@valueking.com << <<Jeb,
what do make of this guy? How'd he find me in cyberspace anyway?  << <<Ned
<< <<<<From: Wmcollins@spiritnet.net <<<<Date: Friday, December 6, 2---
<<<<Subject: remembrances of things past...  <<<<To: traiNED@cybernaut.com
 <<<< <<<<To my distant cousin(s???), greetings from the ether of
cyberspace!!! Do not be afraid for I come in piece!!! I am searching for
Margaret Bennett whose grandfather was the brother of my great
grandfather. As you are NO DOUBT aware, there developed a rift between the
brothers Collins which generation after generation has failed to
mend. Having at this Easter past been ordained into the Episcopal Diocese
of South Carolina, and having the extraordinary blessing to be
distinguished by THE MOST GRACIOUS Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh, Senior Warden
of St. Cuthbert's Church, King's Island, and to be called to serve as
rector, I feel it is my duty as a Christian clergyman--and with this
Mrs. de Bourgh completely concurs--to offer an olive branch of piece to my
dearest cousins on the other side of this GREAT DIVIDE. I flatter myself
that my present overture of goodwill is highly commendable, and in order to
make amends, I propose to arrive in your fair city on Wednesday, December
11 on United flight 2317 at 4 pm and, if you have no objections, stay for
not more than 10 days. And lest you become apprehensive that my absence
from my Sunday duties will inconvenience or otherwise displease Mrs. de
Bourgh, please know that the dear lady herself has no objection whatsoever
to this trip provided I find a clergyman to replace me--which I have
already done. I look forward to SEEING YOU SOON!!!  <<<< <<<<Your
well-wisher and friend, <<<< <<<<The Reverend William Collins

Edward could easily see why his father had called the writer of the e-mail
"a kook".  "Olive branch of piece"? How could someone that illiterate
become an ordained priest? It was the most extraordinary e-mail he had ever
read. "Inconvenience or otherwise displease Mrs. de Bourgh?" Edward
thought. "What about the inconvenience to me?" To his father he said, "So
what did Mom's grandfather fight about with his brother, Dad?"

"Beats me!" replied Mr. Bennett. "Probably money, but that was a long time
ago. Your mother never talked about it. In fact, I don't think she knew
anything about it."

"This guy thinks Mom is still alive and living in Chicago?"

"That's what it sounds like. You better write to him and tell the idiot to
cancel his plane ticket."

Edward would have preferred not to deal with Mr. Collins at all, but in the
end felt sorry for the man. He sent off an e-mail that afternoon.

<<From: Edward@bennettdesign.com <<Date: Sunday, December 8, 2---
<<Subject: Re: Margaret Bennett <<To: Wmcollins@spiritnet.net <<
<<Mr. Collins, << <<I am sorry to inform you that my mother, Margaret
Bennett, died seventeen years ago in St. Louis, where she had lived with my
father for more than twenty years. Your trip to Chicago will therefore be
pointless, and I urge you to cancel your flight reservation.  <<
<<Sincerely, <<Edward Bennett

Edward thought that that would have taken care of the matter. Within the
hour, however, he got a response from Mr. Collins.

<<From: Wmcollins@spiritnet.net <<Date: Sunday, December 8, 2--- <<Subject:
Re: Re: Margaret Bennett <<To: Edward@bennettdesign.com << <<My dearest
cousin Edward!!! How VERY PLEASED I was to hear from you!!! It was no
trouble at all to change my ticket to one for St. Louis instead of
Chicago. You will NO DOUBT be pleased to know that I informed Mrs. de
Bourgh of my contact with you, and she was insistent--as am I--that the
breach between the two branches of our family be mended. You were VERY KIND
not to mention the breach, the results of which have allowed me the
independence to consider the re-booking fee of $150 for my ticket as a mere
trifle. ["Dad was right," thought Edward, "The fight was about money."]
Please expect me, therefore, on United flight 1734 arriving at 6:09 pm on
Wednesday, December 11. I look forward to GREETING YOU IN PERSON!!!  <<
<<With the greatest affection!!!  << <<The Reverend William Collins

What was Edward to do? He wrote back right away informing Mr. Collins that
whatever perceived breach had occurred, it was a relic of the past and need
not concern him now. To the extent forgiveness was needed, he, on behalf of
his mother, forgave Mr. Collins's side of the family--or conversely, asked
forgiveness of Mr. Collins on behalf of his side of the family if such was
called for. Mr. Collins visit was therefore totally unnecessary and was, in
fact, inconvenient so close to Christmas. In any event, Edward did not have
room to accommodate Mr. Collins in his small townhouse.

In another quick response, Mr. Collins begged to differ-- indeed he hoped
that this would be the only matter on which the cousins differed--and urged
Edward to consider that he, Mr. Collins, as a clergyman knew much more
about the exigencies of forgiveness and of breach mending than his cousin
did. As for accommodations, any bit of floor space would do for him to lay
his weary head.

Edward was at his wits end. He decided that it was probably better not to
respond at all this time. If Mr. Collins came to St. Louis, he could stay
at a hotel.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


The sun, which had nearly melted the snow on Sunday, had so warmed the
atmosphere that by Monday morning the city was covered in patchy fog. Josh
decided to wear his running shoes for their early morning walk in the park,
but Edward thought his hiking boots were a better option, it still being
quite damp even if the snow was gone. As they walked over a pedestrian
bridge into the park, Edward deliberated with Josh on how they were to
accommodate Josh's sister, Lydia, who would be with them on Wednesday.

"I guess I'll give Lydia my room," Edward began. "I can sleep on the
hide-a-bed in the living room."

"That's crazy, Eddie!" Josh argued. "You shouldn't put yourself out for my
dumb sister. She can sleep on the hide-a-bed."

"Now, Josh. That wouldn't be very hospitable. Besides, girls like a bit of
privacy, and you and I get up pretty early. We'd disturb her sleep, for
sure."

"That would serve her right!"

"Josh!"

"Okayokay! But I have a better idea anyway."

"Which is?"

"Which is she can have my room."

"Josh, you shouldn't have to sleep on the hide-a-bed."

"I wouldn't. I'd be sleeping in your room, dude."

"Which would leave me on the hide-a-bed again. How does that help?"

"No, no! You and me would both sleep in your bed."

"Josh, I've only got a double bed. It would be pretty tight sleeping
together, and I'm not sure I want to listen to you snore all night." Edward
was vaguely uneasy about the idea of sleeping with his cousin.

"As if! You're the one honking away all night, Eddie. I can hear you in my
room with the door closed."

"You can not..." Edward was interrupted by the approach of three men
jogging close behind them. He turned around to discover Mr. Bingley,
Mr. D'Arcy and a third man. Mr. Bingley greeted the cousins and introduced
the third man as his personal trainer, a Mr. Jackson Wycoff. This new man
was big and beefy, and Edward thought he looked suspiciously like one of
the security guards at the opera ball. He also seemed to have a bulge in
his pants that could only be a hand gun. Mr. Bingley asked the cousins to
join them in their run. Josh was, of course, eager to oblige. Edward, who
would rather slit his wrists than go jogging, begged off citing
inappropriate footwear as his excuse.

Edward expected the other four men to go off running, but Mr. D'Arcy, who
had been silent until then, announced--much to Edward's amazement and
apprehension--that he had developed a cramp in his left leg and would walk
a while with Edward!

"I'll catch up with y'all later," Mr. D'Arcy cried out as Josh, Mr. Bingley
and the trainer took off at a fast pace.

Edward's mind was awhirl. Why would Mr. D'Arcy want to remain behind with
him? Mr. D'Arcy certainly wasn't limping, so that story about the leg cramp
seemed unlikely. The only explanation Edward could come up with was that
Mr. D'Arcy must have a developed a morbid fascination for him--a kind of
"there, but for the grace of God..." Edward resolved that he would not to
be intimidated by the likes of Mr. D'Arcy.

The two men walked side by side for a number of minutes without speaking a
word. Finally, Edward could no longer stand the tension, and, determined to
break the silence, he began, "You know, Mr. D'Arcy, courtesy insists that
we at least say a few words to one another. I should make a remark about
how unseasonably warm it is today, and then you should ask whether I think
it will last."

"And do you think the warm weather will last, Mr. Bennett?" replied
Mr. D'Arcy with a smile.

"Given the nature of St. Louis weather, I would not be surprised if we had
a blizzard in the next five minutes."

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes more. Edward then began
again. "It is your turn now to say something, Mr. D'Arcy. I talked about
the weather, so you should make some remark about the winter landscape or
the number of Canada geese in the park."

Mr. D'Arcy laughed and assured him that whatever Edward wished him to say
should be said.

"Well, I guess that'll do for now," Edward replied. "In a bit, I shall
probably ask you if you've seen any good movies lately. But for now we can
be silent."

"I didn't know there were such strict conversational rules for walkin' in
the park."

"Well, it would seem a little odd if we didn't say anything to each other,
don't you think? And this way, we can say as little as possible."

"And is that what you really think, or are you just saying it to gratify my
feelin's?"

"Yes to both questions," Edward answered with a mischievous smile. "I
suspect you and I are a lot alike, Mr. D'Arcy. We are each of us antisocial
by nature and wish to speak as little as possible, and then only if our
words end up as a sound byte on CNN."

"I gotta tell you, Mr. Bennett, you say the queerest things! [Edward
blushed.] I can tell you aren't the least bit antisocial. As for me--well,
I can't really judge myself, but you obviously think you've painted a
pretty accurate picture." Mr. D'Arcy flashed Edward a warm smile that
caused him to turn an even deeper shade of crimson and nearly sent him
running despite his hiking boots and his aversion to jogging.

Edward was right about one thing--but for the wrong reasons: Mr. D'Arcy was
fascinated with him. Edward was quite unlike the many other men and women
with whom Mr. D'Arcy had had to deal over the course of his thirty-eight
years, the main difference being that Edward didn't seem to want anything
from him. For his part, Edward was trying to be confrontational but was
utterly incapable of offending anyone deliberately. Instead, he was
unknowingly charming the pants off of Mr. D'Arcy--perhaps not literally
although a certain stiff member of Mr. D'Arcy's anatomy was at that moment
testing the very limits of his jockstrap--and was being charmed in turn,
despite himself.

Afraid of becoming mired in his own self-consciousness, Edward blurted out
the first thing that came to mind. "Was Mr. Bingley's trainer carrying a
gun or was he just happy to see Josh and me?"

This sudden twist in the conversation took Mr. D'Arcy by surprise. Catching
himself, he answered with a laugh, "Of course he was happy to see y'all!
Can you blame him?"

Mr. D'Arcy's gallantry now caught Edward off guard. "I, uh...thought
perhaps he might be a body guard. He looked like one of the men I saw at
the opera ball screening people as they came in. I can imagine
Mr. Bingley... No, wait. I actually can't imagine what it must be like to
live in the public eye the way he does." Mr. D'Arcy made no response, so
Edward continued, "Shouldn't you have a body guard, too, Mr. D'Arcy?"

"You think I need one? Should I be afraid of you?" Mr. D'Arcy couldn't
resist putting his arm around Edward's shoulder and giving him a
squeeze. The physical contact sent electric shockwaves through Edward's
body ending in his cock.

Edward was now hopelessly adrift in a sea of emotion. "I,
uh... Yes...uh... No, I mean, no..." Finally, sighing with a sense of
having made a perfect ass out of himself, he said, "I'm sorry
Mr. D'Arcy. It's really none of my business."

"Hey, there's nothing to apologize for, Edward. Look, I know I'm supposed
to be some kind of an ogre, but couldn't you see your way to callin' me
Will?"

Mr. D'Arcy's smile was almost completely disarming, but Edward couldn't
quite let go of his fear of the man. "N-no, I couldn't do that!" Edward
said with alarm.

"And why not?" Mr. D'Arcy was beginning to get angry.

Edward looked Mr. D'Arcy straight in the face. He saw the passion
smoldering in Mr. D'Arcy's eyes, and his mind went blank. Wave after wave
of conflicting emotion broke over him: lust, fear, longing. He finally
managed to stammer, "I... I don't know why. I just can't."

Mr. D'Arcy was disgusted and felt like a fool. They had come to the Union
Avenue entrance to the park. "I think this is where I need to turn off,
Mr. Bennett."

Edward was still in a daze. "Yes, of course. Uh, thank you for walking with
me."

"Yeah, sure. Bye." And off Mr. D'Arcy went at a quick pace without any sign
of a cramp in his left leg.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


To be continued ...

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