Date: Sun, 3 Feb 2008 13:36:23 -0800 (PST)
From: John Gerald <connectwriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Connections 26

Thanks again for stopping by.  Your comments and emails are always welcome
and appreciated.  I hope you continue to enjoy the story.  J.



More than most years, both of the guys were looking forward to Christmas.
Not only because it would be their first one together, which meant a lot
just by itself.  But also because it had been such an overwhelming past few
months, both from a personal and an academic point of view.

They had both put in their graduate school applications, which took not
only the effort of preparation but also gave a big haircut to their savings
accounts.  But the competition was fierce and they wanted to give
themselves as much of a chance as possible.  On the surface, they both
agreed that they would attend the best school that each could get into,
even if it meant different schools.  And they each assured the other that
they could make it through the 2 academic years that they may might be
separated, thinking that it would be best for the other.  But secretly,
each dreaded the thought.

It had also been a time for Brad to catch up with his family.  Both his
Aunt and Grandfather sometimes did the one-hour drive to see the guys at
school, and the guys reciprocated as much as possible.  Somehow, they
squeezed everything in, but every day was life at full speed.

Brad's grandfather and Aunt opened up a whole new world to him.
Mr. Campagna, though retired, took time to explain his businesses to Brad,
how they worked, how he made decisions and what it takes to run a company,
small or large.  To everyone around him, in fact, Mr. Campagna seemed to
get a new lease-on-life[C. M.1] with Brad.  Jill was especially impressed
with the change, although at the same time she could see his age asserting
its presence, too.  He even talked of starting another business, maybe, he
thought, his grandson would like to be part of it.  But even if it didn't
happen, just the act of planning for the future, rather than dwelling on
the past, was a big step forward.

				   *****

Brad had convinced Mike that they could wait to have the rings resized.  He
wasn't surprised that Mike was enthusiastic about getting the ring on as
soon as possible, but It was going to cost a fair amount of money, money
that they both had to invest in their future.  For now, they each kept
their rings in the top dresser drawer, in the same box that Robert Campagna
had bought them in.

A few days before Christmas, the Kovars invited Brad's and Kurt's families
for dinner.  It wasn't a really fancy affair, just a hearty buffet prepared
by Brad and Mrs. Kovar.  They bought a honey baked ham, plus prepared some
traditional Czech Christmas foods along with a few American staples, such
as sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie and steamed green beans, though Brad always
added a twist, such as a home-made whipped cream with cinnamon for the pie.

It was also an opportunity for the elder Kovars to meet Kurt's dad, which
they'd been looking forward to for a long time.  Anyone who could raise a
kid to tame their daughter had their respect, plus for them he was like
Brad's aunt and grandfather -- a chance to add a new member to the
family.

The Hanna connection and interest was so strong, in fact, that they had
actually forgotten that he had lived in Bohemia for a short time and that
he spoke Czech.  When he first arrived and greeted them in Czech, Mr. Kovar
was momentarily speechless.

"Welcome, so much Mr. Metz.  We've waited so long to meet you!"  Mr. Kovar
finally replied, resisting the temptation to speak Czech because of the
other people around.  But in the European style, without thinking, he gave
Mr. Metz a kiss on each cheek, and received the same in return.  Feeling
exhilarated at the welcome, Mr. Metz gave Mike's mom an equally
enthusiastic welcome.

After dinner, while everyone else had repaired to the living room and were
talking and laughing, Mr. Metz approached the elder Kovars, who were still
in the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked, thinking that perhaps he was
still hungry.

"No nothing at all," he replied.  "Dinner was absolutely delicious, but I
think I've had about all my stomach can handle," he said, "I haven't had
those sausages since I was in Prague."

"They're not easy to get here, but it's important for this time of year, so
we like to do it."  Mrs. Kovar said, as she put a final glass into the
dishwasher and shut the door.  "Neither of us are religious, but we just
can't deny ourselves the food and the fun!"  She said smiling.

"I wanted to mention something to you and Mr. Kovar," he said, sounding
somewhat ominous.  She wiped her hands and motioned that the three of them
should maybe sit down, but he gently shook his hand that he was OK
standing.

"What is it? she asked.  "is everything OK?"  Mr. Kovar too, looked
concerned as he stepped closer.

He just smiled at them.  "Everything is fine and good.  What I wanted to
say is that, well..."  He got a bit of a wistful look on his face, sad and
happy at the same time.

"I just wanted to tell you how much your Hanna has done for my Kurt," he
said.  "That boy was just just devastated about his mom.  There were times
that I wasn't sure he would ever recover.  He just had this somberness
about him, ever since his mom died."  For a moment, Dr. Metz looked pretty
somber himself.

"But Hanna has just made him come alive.  He's just got everything back
that he had as a kid, and more.  He was always so much like his Mom, such a
lively kid, not a bore like me," a gross exaggeration but at the same time
a tribute to his wife. "Now he shows that spirit again, and I think I've
got Hanna, and how you raised her, to thank for it.  Thank you so much."
He held Mrs. Kovars hands in his own.

"It's us who should be thanking you" Mr. Kovar said, as his wife nodded in
agreement.  "I wasn't sure she could be tamed by any guy, she just chewed
them up and spit them out," he said, not exactly proudly.

"Yes, she's had that problem.  But he doesn't take any grief from her."
Mrs. Kovar said, in an understated way that made Mr. Kovar laugh.  "But she
worships Kurt.  He's done something to her, we don't know how, or what, or
why, but she's a changed person around him."  She said.  "I think she just
respects him so much, how he handles himself, his goals, intelligence,
ambition, but at the same time his kindness."

"He was raised well himself, and it shows."

"Thank his mother for that," he said, continuing his self-effacing manner.
"They couldn't help but take after her." He gave all the credit to his
wife, but it wasn't hard to see the other influences, too.

Like Christmas at many homes, the evenings leading up to it were crazy with
activity, with visitors and coming in and out often during the evening.  So
it wasn't any surprise when they the doorbell ring, though the quick
succession of rings was a little startling.  It was almost like someone was
pounding on the doorbell.

Brad got up from the couch were he had been lounging with Mike, first
peeking out the window.  Hanna and Kurt, who were also loafing around after
eating a huge dinner, both saw a big smile on his face as he first opened
the inside wood door then the outside storm door and finally squatted down
to greet some mysterious little visitor.

"Hi Niko!  Merry Christmas!"  Brad yelled and gave a big smile, as the
little 8 year old neighbor boy, the one who he almost hit with his truck
the previous summer, launched himself into his arms.  His given name was
Nicholas, but the only place a person could find that name was on his birth
certificate.

"Hi Uncle Brad" he said as he stretched over as far as he could to give him
a big hug.

Brad looked up at the adult who was right behind Niko.  "Come on in, Sarah.
Merry Christmas!" he said to the boy's mom.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," she said.  She gave a friendly wave to
everyone else around, with way too many of them to make individual
greetings.

"He brought a present for you and Uncle Mike.  Didn't you, Niko?"

"Yes!"  the youngster cried out.  "Here, Uncle Brad.  I hope you like it,"
he said as he pressed a garishly wrapped, thin package, more of an
envelope, into Brad's hands.  Mike bounced off the couch and immediately
joined them.

"Thank you!" Mike said, as he, too, got down to look Niko in the eye.
"this is really nice of you!"  Thank you so much!"

"Your welcome," he said as he gave Mike a big hug, too.

Sarah was a single mom who had just moved into the neighborhood last
summer, and Mike and Brad had become a sort of surrogate Dad for the young
boy, whose own Dad had split last year.

She was extremely tall, just a little above Brad's height, and her husband
had been a big person, too.  It showed with Niko, who was half a head above
all his classmates.  He loved learning sports and playing with his
`uncles,' both who thought that he was destined to be an extremely talented
athlete.

"Thanks so much for all you guys did for him this year.  He thinks the
world of you both!" she said, after Niko had ran off to the kitchen when
Mrs. Kovar called him to come for some treats.

"It's nothing, Sarah," Brad said, speaking for them both.  "He's a great
kid.  I just wish we had more time.  He's one of the reasons we came back
from school a lot of weekends this semester.  He's so much fun to play
with, and I think he's going to be a great football player.  And I can say
I was his first coach."  Brad said with a laugh.

"That's if he doesn't pick soccer instead," Mike chimed in, giving Brad a
punch to the shoulder, not yet willing to concede Niko's career choices.

"You should know that you guys have really saved me, and him.  I wasn't
sure what would happen to him after his Dad left.  He had become so down,
and I couldn't blame him."  She said quietly.  "But you guys have been a
big part of his recovery.  I just wish we could thank you more, get you
something really nice, but money is a little..."

Brad interrupted her.  "Sarah, whatever present he gave us, I'm sure it's
great, but in the end, it doesn't matter how big or small.  I've had the
kind of fun from him that money can't buy."

"Uncle Brad!"  NIko called out as he raced back from the kitchen.  "Will
you open my present now?"  he said right before taking his first bite of
kolachy.

"Of course we will, if you want us to. But right now?"  Brad asked.

"Right now!" he said, continuing to munch.

Brad handed the package to Mike.  "Do the honors!"

Mike took it and carefully remove the wrapper, placing it neatly on the
coffee table as he held up the present to Brad.

It was a children's sketch of the two guys, leaning against each other,
with big crayon labels underneath saying `Uncle Brad' and Uncle Mike.'  The
were standing next to a snow man.  The drawing was signed, `Love, Niko."

Brad looked at it, then looked down at Niko, who was staring up at him.  He
picked him up, no, swooped him up of the ground and put the little boy into
another big hug.  "Oh it's so nice Niko, Did you draw it yourself?

He shook his head in the affirmative, as he continued on another piece of
Christmas pastry.

Brad gave him a big kiss to the cheek.  "Can I have a kiss, too?" he said.
"That will make it perfect."

Niko demurred for a second, looking sideways and giggling, then bent over
and gave Brad a big, wet, smooch to the cheek, leaving crumbs on his face.
Straightening back up again, he looked at Brad's cheek and started giggling
again.

"Oops, sorry, Uncle Brad!"  Niko said rather unconvincingly as his impish
smile lit up the room.

                                                           ******

"Are you going to pick a name soon?"  Mike asked, rearranging presents
underneath the tree in order to add some late arrivals.

Brad was sitting on the couch, staring at the fire.  "gosh I don't know
yet.  I'm not sure what name to use, Stewart or Campagna. The only thing
I'm sure of is that North has to go," he said with an emphasis on the last
phrase.  Any more suggestions, Pup?"

"No, not really.  It's not an easy decision, though it's the right thing to
do.  You want to honor them both, but I guess that you want to keep it
simple, too." Mike said, as finished placing he final present.  "Like I
said before, I guess you try to ask yourself what they would have done if
things had turned our differently."

"Whenever I try to do it that way, it usually comes down to Campagna, they
way most people do it, with the guys name as the family name.  I just don't
want to fee like I'm shortchanging my Mom."

Mike wanted him to make the best decision, but he also didn't want him to
dwell too much on it.  "That might be the simplest way of doing it, babe.
Maybe we just think of another way of honoring your Mom, like naming one of
the kids after her, or giving them her last name as a middle name."

Brad was quiet for a moment, deep in thought.  He really felt great when
Mike talked about their kids, even if they were way off in the future.
"That might be the right way to do it.  I think we'll have lots of people
who we'll want to name them after, but if we could reserve this one, I
think that would be great."

"Done."  Mike said, as he returned to the couch.



When it came time to open the gifts, they at first argued about who should
open first, until they decided by flip of the coin.

"You dog!"  Brad teased, as he handed Mike his present.  They both laughed
as Brad pulled an envelope out from under the tree.

"What's this?"  Mike asked, as he held it up to the light, trying to figure
out what was inside.  Brad laughed again, but then became serious.

"Um, it's not a lot pup, I mean, I wish I could have done more, but..."

Mike put his hand over Brad's mouth.  "Whatever you get me is great,
because it's from you."  Pulling his hand off of Brad's mouth, he then
twisted his nose.  "got it?'  he said.

Brad just shook his head.  "OK, Well, we'll see what you think."

Mike got up and retrieved knife from the kitchen, wanting to open the
envelope as carefully as possible. He came back into the living room and
sat down cross-legged next to Brad.

Gently slitting open the envelope he pulled out a single folded sheet of
paper, which said, `LOOK IN THE GARAGE"

He looked up and smiled.  "Come with me!" he ordered Mike, as he pulled him
up off the floor.  He continued holding Mike's hand as he dragged him along
behind, anxious to get there as soon as possible.

When they finally got in , though, all that Mike saw was the empty garage.
His parent's car had, unusually, been left outside.  In fact, he rarely
went into the garage in the winter since he didn't have any use for summer
gardening equipment.  The only thing he saw was some object in the corner
with a dark grey blanket draped over it.

"Is that for it?' Mike asked.

"Uh huh."  You can lift up the blanket now." He said, then tried to temper
the expectation a little bit.  "You can use it more in the future, but I
thought you might want to start collecting some now."

At first, Mike just peeked up underneath it, afraid to jar what was
underneath.  Then Brad heard "oh wow!!!"

It was the kind of present that only a woodworker or builder would
appreciate.  It was a 10" table saw.  Used, but in very good condition.

Mike looked back at Brad, dumfounded.  "Babe, how did you afford this?
It's a really nice one, and it probably costs 2000 bucks!"

"Well, it's not new and I didn't buy It with cash, I bartered for it." He
explained.  "Remember this past semester when you were late in the wood
shop a lot and I told you I was doing my `President of the Intramural
League' stuff?"

"yeah?"

Well, I was doing that, but I as also tutoring one of the guys on the team.
He was pretty desperate to pass his Revolutionary Period history test, and
needed, let's say, a lot of assistance.  Anyway, his Dad sells this stuff,
and instead of cash, we worked out a deal," he said.  "And just to be on
the safe side, my Grandpa helped me check it out and make sure it was OK.
He was a contractor, you know, and he understands these things a lot better
than me," he said with a laugh.

Mike ran his hands gently across the table, then lightly brushed his
fingertips along the blade "wow, It's great!  Looks like carbide!"  he then
smiled a little sheepishly.  "I must be the only gay guy in the world who
is happy he got a table saw for Christmas."  He put his arms around and
gave him one of those kisses that set Brad's head spinning.

"We can keep it in storage until we build a house, or do remodeling."

After looking it over several more times, he tugged on Brads shirt.  "OK,
time to go in.  Now it's my turn to give." Mike said with a big smile, as
he pulled Brad back into the living room.  Moving them both onto their
knees, he pulled a red box, about 12" by 12" square, out from underneath
the tree.

"Open!"  he ordered.

At first, Brad just shook the box.  "hmm...no moving parts...what could it
be?"

Mike teased back, "You won't know until you open it, will you?"

"Well, OK.  Here goes!"  He placed the present on the floor and started to
unwrap it, first removing the white ribbon and then carefully tearing away
the simple red wrapping paper.  After removing the ribbon and paper, he
came to a custom made cardboard box.  He used the knife that Mike had
earlier retrieved to slowly slice open the tape holding the box together,
removing one side and then another.

When he had finally revealed the object, he wasn't exactly sure what it
was, except he did notice it had draws, very thin ones.  He looked closely
and saw that each drawer had some writing.  Looking closer he realized that
each was a different date.

Scrutinizing each thin draw he discovered that the dates were in
succession, from top to bottom, each date slightly later than the
other...then he realized the year of the dates...it was about 20 years
before...

He just looked at Mike, dumbfounded.  He rapidly blinked his eyes to avoid
tearing up.

"You've just been keeping those letters in that damn box of your
stepmother's.  I thought they deserved something better," Mike said.

Brad wiped his eyes, still struggling to keep them dry as he sniffled.
"When did you do this, Pup?"

"Well, mostly my work-study time in the woodshop.  I made sure that I
helped everyone, did my duty and all that, but in reality not a lot of
people use the shop.  So I had time during my so-called working hours.
Then I just squeezed in some other time as I had to."

Brad was quiet for a few moments before Mike heard, "it's the nicest thing
anyone's ever gotten me."

Without speaking further, he wrapped his hand on Mike's shoulder .  `God,
he has a beautiful neck!' Brad thought.  `kind of longer than most guys,
and very lean,' He could see almost every sinewy muscle in it.  Though he
had first seen Mike a year ago, and had made love too him too many times to
count, he still seemed to notice something new about him every day.

He anchored his hand on that incredible neck and pulled Mike into one of
his own killer kisses.

				*****

Before Hanna and Kurt left for the night to take Kurt's Dad home, Mike
corralled them into the role of family Christmas photographer.  After
taking various pictures of members of the family, and reciprocating with
Kurt and Hanna and Kurt's Dad, Mike explained what, to him, was the climax
of the picture session.

"I want to start a tradition for Brad and I, and you all should do it for
yourselves, too," he said, "Every year I want of picture of us at
Christmas.  Right now, it's just Brad and me and well, " he said, glancing
down at Tony, who was leaning against his leg, "maybe him."

He had thought a lot about how this would be staged. He and Brad would be
sitting on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, presents, just the two
of them smiling for the camera.  And in years to come, they would,
hopefully, add their kids in between them.  The camera would always be at
the same, height, the same distance away and the guys would sit the same
way.

Pulling Brad down beside him, they both sat cross-legged, right next to
each other but with their arms at their sides, or on their legs. It had to
look casual, yet be regimented enough so that the changes over the years
would be clear.

"Are you OK now?  Is this all right?" Kurt asked.

"I think so.  Does it look OK in the viewfinder?"

Hanna piped in.  "Yea, it looks fine.  You can always correct Brad in
Photoshop, too, you know.  So you're not stuck with his normal look."

"I get to take yours, Hanka," Brad said, having adopted the Kovar moniker
for her.  "But I'm not sure you'll show up on film." He said, using his
teeth to do a vampire imitation.

"Picture Please!" Mike ordered, as Kurt have him the OK sign and they both
smiled for the camera.

"CLICK!"

                                                     ***** "What do you
think of him, Dad?"  Jill asked.  She enjoyed time off at Christmas as much
as any harried executive, and spend a lot of it visiting her Dad.

Her Dad paused.  He always did that when he had a serious answer.  Looking
across the kitchen table from him, she only saw him put his coffee down.

It was very quiet for a moment, but finally he spoke. His voice quavered a
bit, a bit less steady than usual.  "I've only know him now for a few
months, Jill."  he said.  He paused again, but suddenly got his usual
assurance back.

"But I have to tell you, it astonishes me how much he's like his parents.
And their best parts, too.  He's got your brother's spirit and spunk, but
without his temper, or should I say, my temper, or a least my old temper,"
he said, with a slight smile.  "but he reins in the wilder parts with his
Mom's self-control and calmness."

"He gets his sports stuff from her, too, that's for sure!  She seemed to
play every sport, and was pretty good at all of them.  I actually think
that Robert met her when she was coaching the girl's soccer team at their
high school.  He was walking by the field on his way to his car, when he
just stopped to watch.  I remember him telling me how great she was with
the kids."  He started to falter, getting a little teary-eyed, but quickly
got himself back together.  It had been quite a while since Jill had seen
that happen.

"I think Brad gets the intellectual stuff from his Dad, who sure as hell
didn't get it from me," he said, managing another little chuckle. "Rob got
that from his Mom, though she didn't go very far in school.  She was always
interested in academic stuff, reading and politics and things like that.
She was so proud when he went to Williams, especially when she realized how
good a school it was."

"You get your brains from her, too," he said with a nod and a wink.

"Yea," Jill answered," but I get the sharp business side from you" she
added, as they both laughed.

"But there is one thing about him," he said.  "He seems anxious sometimes.
To most people I'll be he looks like a guy who could conquer the world.
But I can see he sometimes loses that, that confidence.  It's only brief
flashes, but I can sense it."  He said, sympathetically.

"And I can tell you exactly why.  Because of those people who raised him.
Total, son-of-a-bitch bastards!" he said, raising his voice.  "I'll bet he
hasn't told us half the things that happened to him there.  Even for a kid
with all the natural confidence in the world, no one can go through that
kind of upbringing and not be affected by it."

"But you know what, Jill?"  he asked, not waiting for any answer.  "I never
see that hesitation when Mike is around.  He's so calm when they're
together.  I can see the difference.  Another thing like his Dad.  When
Veronica was around, he was a new man."

"I even notice that Mike pokes him sometimes. I don't think that's an
accident." Jill always knew that her Dad was a sharp guy, but was
continually surprised by his awareness of the subtle gestures, especially
emotional ones.  Growing up, she thought he was only tuned to the loudest
frequencies.

"Jill, I don't get how guys like guys, I can't understand it.  But I can't
deny what Mike does for Brad, and what they do for each other."  He looked
genuinely perplexed.  "They both just seem so, um, normal," he said.

"What did you expect Dad?" she paused.  "Oh, forget I asked that question!
Never mind!"  She laughed as he smiled back.

"In fact, Mike is quite the handy guy in the woodshop," he said, referring
to his own work shed in the back of the oversize garage.  "You know, when
those guys came over, I think I spend almost as much time with Mike out in
the shop as I spent with Brad.  And I've enjoyed it just as much."

"And Brad made us such good lunches, too, really tasty ones.  What a chef!"
he said with a laugh and not a little pride.

There was a pause in the levity, however, as Mr. Campagna collected his
thoughts, not able to forget what had happened to his grandson.

"But to go back to those bastards," he said, "Jill, from all that Brad has
told me, I originally thought the neglect was sort of a case of the wicked
stepmother who is forced to take on some burdensome family duty, bitching
and moaning all the way, but doing it anyway."

Jill could now see that he had gone from his reminiscing mode to his
calculating, analytical mode, the thinking process that had made him so
successful.  "But there's something not right in him being hidden from us.
I couldn't figure why they would do that.  But when Brad told me last week
that they got insurance money, well, that got me to thinking."

"Wait a minute, Dad, I'm not sure you want to go there." she said, having a
vague sense of where this line of reasoning was headed.

She was incredulous, but he didn't flinch.  "Maybe it was a windfall, I
don't know.  But maybe it wasn't so passive.  Maybe they saw something they
wanted and went after it."

"I don't know, Dad, that sounds kind of extreme.  But there's a lot of
things that don't make sense with that.  For example, why keep him hidden
from us?"  She asked.

Getting up from his seat, he started to pace the room.  "It would have been
pretty obvious who the Dad was, and maybe they thought that the Dad's
family could make things difficult, maybe they would demand some kind of
visitation or custody or compensation that would cut into their loot", he
said, with a sarcastic emphasis on the last word.  "Not to mention just one
more interested party who might ask some uncomfortable questions."

Jill challenged his reasoning.  "That Mrs. North wasn't the most friendly
person I've ever met, and not really the brightest either, but I can't
picture her as such an avaricious beast," she said, not completely
convinced of her own conclusion.

But Mr. Campagna wouldn't be dissuaded. "If it was only her, maybe not.
Veronica was her cousin, after all, and I think that she may have had some
emotional connection with her, at least at one time.  But did you ever
think about her husband?"

"Yes, I kind of remember him," she responded.  "I have to say that he kind
of gave me the creeps when I saw him that one time when we went to their
funeral home.  He was sort of short and quiet, but seemed to give funny,
strange looks to people. I sort of thought he was paranoid.  But to be
honest, I had other things on my mind and didn't dwell on it."

"Well like I said earlier, Brad doesn't say much, but Mike has told me some
things," he said, "and he's described some pretty interesting spending
habits of Mr. North when Brad was young.  Brad was just a kid at the time,
but when he was growing up he saw some of the rusted hulks of a white
collar spending spree by a blue collar guy."

He paused, silent again.  He knew he had to be very careful.  But he also
knew that the possibility could not be denied.  Or stated. "People have
done worse things for money, Jill."



[C. M.1]In the UK this would be `lease of life' but it may have changed in
the US.