Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2008 20:13:41 -0800 (PST)
From: John Gerald <connectwriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Connections 29

He just laid there on the living room floor, not even moving to the foot of
the stairs in the middle of the night like he normally would.  Listless,
indifferent.  And most telling of all, he didn't want any food.

Mike was right next to him, performing the ritual rubdown that Tony always
enjoyed so much, but there was almost no reaction from the black and white
and brown fur.  His knees were to one side, both on the wooden floor,
leaving Tony to the entire rug that he seemed to claim as his last
possession.

Until he felt Brad's knee gently dig into his back Mike was in a world of
his own. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion.  He was even able to
separate out the whoosh of inhaled air one takes just before the words come
out.

"You OK, pup?"  Mike heard, as familiar fingers gently brushed his neck.

The response was subdued, as Brad expected.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  I think...I
think it might be time...maybe..."  He couldn't complete the sentence.

"I think it's time now, too.  We need to take care of him."  Brad said,
completing the thought that Mike couldn't.  There was no response at all
this time, but he still waited before speaking again.

 "We need to do this as soon as possible, babe, OK"

"Maybe we can just see if he rallies again, you know..."  Mike said, his
voice starting to shake.

Brad got down on the floor beside him. Mike didn't take his eyes off of
Tony, but did move over ever so slightly to give Brad some space.  "He
wants to go Mike.  He'll be happier when we help him do that."

Mike just kept looking down, motionless, before weakly shaking his head in
acknowledgment.  In spite of this, Brad was surprised how relaxed he
looked, with none of the tension that he'd seen when Tony's steep decline
had started.

With his eyes reddening, Mike wiped them with his sleeve.  "Yeah, we should
take...care...of him." He voice was now really beginning to break as he
spoke, his accent more apparent.

"l going to go call the Vet."  Brad said as he started to get up, his hand
squeezing Mike's shoulder.  "Do what you can now, Pup.  I'll be back, OK?"

" `K."  was all Mike could get out.





				*******

Mr. Campagna collected their cups from the table as Brad and Jill were
about to leave his house, but then very conspicuously cleared his throat.
It was in a manner that Brad suspected, and Jill knew, meant that he had
one more important thing that he wanted to talk about.  It had only been a
day since Jill's news, and things were going so fast, with the surgery,
surrogate search and everything else that Brad almost couldn't keep track.

"I'd like to talk to you about how you're going to swing this financially,"
his grandfather said.  He had wanted to bring it up earlier, but knew that
Brad, like his own son, was adamant about making it on his own.

He just looked back and smiled again at his white-haired grandfather.
Unlike his own late father, who would get angry at these offers, part of a
long-running series of personal battles and misunderstandings between
Robert Campagna and his Dad, Brad just wanted to make it on his, or it
should be said, their own. Him and Mike.

"Thanks again, Grandpa," he said.  "But you know how I feel about this.  I
make pretty good money, and Mike is doing OK, so I think can make this
work."

"But you've got a lot happening right now" his grandfather quickly
responded.  "You need to get a house and furnish it and also pay for all of
the surrogate expenses, plus you want to take time off when the baby comes.
Your firm is giving you the time off, of course, but your income is going
to drop, and drop a lot, until you go back to work full time," he said,
looking at Jill who nodded in agreement

 "And besides that, I'd really like to help."

Jill kept her eyes on her Dad.  She remembered the same discussions, years,
ago, but in a much more manipulative and harsh atmosphere.  But she could
see a different look on his face now.  He had learned a lot.

"I know you want to help, Grandpa.  There might be a time when you can, but
I'm not sure it's necessary right now."

There was a quiet moment in the room, with no immediate response from
Mr. Campagna.  He just stood next to his favorite chair, leaning into it
slightly to support himself.  But Jill could see his sharp mind at work.
Unlike the anger he had when he'd argue with Robert years ago, an anger
that made him say things that he didn't want to say, these pauses were from
a chastened man – now calm and controlled but still determined about
something he wanted to do.  Not a good person to be negotiating against.

"Brad?"

"Yes," he replied, casually putting on his jacket.

"I've got a question to ask you."

"Go ahead," Brad said as he reached for his jacket.

"How are you going to feel if you get a call from a nanny or babysitter
that your child just took his first steps but you couldn't be there because
you were at work in some dumb meeting?"

There was no immediate reply from Brad.  "Um, I don't think I'd like that,
but I think I'll be there a lot, I mean, I kind of would like to be part
time instead of full time, I mean, um, for a lot longer than a few months,"
he said stumbling for words, "but with all this coming so fast, we need a
house and a lot of other stuff real fast...but we'll manage," he continued,
avoiding a direct answer.

Jill watched Brad squirm.  He was a smart guy, no doubt.  After all, he was
making a name for himself as a pretty good junior litigator.  But now he
was up against the master, one who'd learned a lot from his own mistakes.

"You can't plan those things or have your secretary put them on the
schedule Brad.  They just happen."

Jill watched Brad struggle with the zipper to his jacket, which he didn't
need to use anyway because the weather was unusually pleasant for a fall
day, A nervous detail her father no doubt also took note of .

"What about his first words?"  he continued. "You want him to call the
Nanny her name first before he calls you or Mike `Dad'?"

"No, Grandpa, but I think we'll see a lot of their growing up, I mean..."
There was an almost audible swallow at he stopped in mid –sentence.

"Is your job that important, especially if you have the ability to have a
choice?"

"Brad," the grandfather continued, but now in a much softer voice. "I'm not
talking about setting you up with everything that you need, you'll have
plenty to take care of and you'll probably still have to work.  And
besides, you're not getting all of my cash, not even most of it.  Most of
it's going to scholarships in your parent's name, in case you didn't know
that."

Brad didn't know that and looked straight back at his Granddad, now focused
on everything he was saying.  He had even stopped fumbling with his jacket.

"But let me take care of the big stuff.  Let me pay for this house. You
don't have to do let me do anything else."

Jill had just listened and watched, in a weird way enjoying this exchange.
"By the way," She said, having waited for the right opportunity to express
her own agenda. "I'm taking care of the in-vitro costs and the surrogate
mom expense too, Brad, in case that wasn't clear.  I have a stake in this
and every right to do it, and I'm not going to argue with you about that.
Got it?"  She said, in a way that presumed the answer she wanted.

There was a look of defeat on Brad's face, but it also looked like he was
trying to suppress a smile.  He drew deep breath before speaking.  "I need
to talk to Mike about this, OK?"

"Of course, Jill said,", plopping back in her chair after being on the edge
of it for the past few minutes, a reluctantly acknowledging her weakened
state.  "Then just come back with a `yes'."



				*******

"This whole in vitro thing will be ready in a day or two.  They've tried to
accelerate some of the fertility stuff so that she has as many eggs as
possible before her chemo starts.  I guess the question is, will we be
ready?" Mike said.

He then rolled over his back, talking into the ceiling as the laid in the
bed, his hands now behind his head.  "hmmm...It's funny, you know, but I
actually feel ready.  It's weird, I mean, I know we have a lot to do, and
it wasn't the way we had planned it out and all that.  But I actually feel
ready.  If it wasn't for the circumstance, I'd probably be really happy."

Both of them had torn feelings.  Seeing Jill's condition was devastating,
especially to Brad. In spite of the possibilities she had opened up, it
came with the kind of price that Brad was really not willing to pay.  Only
her almost desperate insistence pushed them to move ahead.

But he still wondered if this would always be cloud hanging over the
memories of having their first child.  What would it mean when they thought
back about this time?  He didn't question his love – he just always
thought that it would be pure joy, burdened by tragic circumstances.  Now
he understood somewhat how the surviving parent might feel when a mother
doesn't survive or is injured during birth.


Brad turned onto his side to face Mike.  Except for the light from the
bedside clock the room was dark, but Brad could sense his presence just
from the slight tip in the mattress from his weight.  "Yeah, I guess so; I
mean I know what you're saying.  Actually, her prognosis may not be so bad,
as least as far as her health goes.  She has a pretty good chance of
getting through this, if the surgery is successful."

"How's Grandpa doing through all this.  How was he when you saw him and
Jill today?"

"Generally OK, I guess.  I really don't think he can face bad news from
her, though.  We mostly just talk around that part, so I know it's really
where his head is at.  That's one more reason I hope she makes it through
things."

"Between everything else, he actually makes little comments about the great
grandson, and how he's looking forward to it," Brad continued, with obvious
satisfaction that he could do something meaningful for the old man.

"He's OK with the arrangements and all, too, I think.  I mean, I know he's
great about you and me, but actually having kids, and with Jill and all
involved, he's behind that, too."

Mike could almost see Brad's smile in the dark.  "Yeah, you know, I think
it just seems like just another natural step and all."

"Oh and one more thing about that."

"Yeah?"

"Well, with all that's happening, what with the baby and the new house, he
thinks we'll need some financial help."

"Well, what do you think?  You've never wanted to take money from him."

"I know, and he understands that.  He said I'm just like my Dad, who
wouldn't take money either."  Brad said with a chuckle.

"But?"  Mike asked, sensing there was more.

"He kind of worked on me..." Brad said, as he then related the story of
their conversation.  When he was finished, he asked Mike about taking the
money.

Digging his head back into his pillow before he spoke, Mike half smiled at
the grandfather's strategy.  `That old S.O.B. really knows how to get at
Brad,' he thought.

"He was adamant about no strings attached, and really did seem like he
wanted to this pretty badly..." Brad said, filling the temporary silence.

"We should take it, if you're OK with it Babe."

"Really?"

"Yeah"

"Why do you say so?  I mean, I don't disagree, but why do you think so?"

"You know, from what you described of the conversation, I'm not sure this
is for us."  Mike started, not exactly sure how to say the complex reaction
in his head.  "I mean, it is for us, or course, but it's for your folks,
too.  And for him.  I think he felt like he really blew it with his own son
but you're the chance to make that up.  It sounds like he tried to control
your Dad with money and failed.  He just doesn't want to make the same
mistake with you."

"You know, it's kind of strange, huh?"  Mike continued, shuffling around
enough in the bed that he pulled the covers slightly across Brad, who felt
the sheets drag smoothly over his skin.  "Tony passes, but then Reese picks
up the baton," Mike said, covering as best he could the emotion that Brad
knew was there.  "And now Jill, with us having the Baby, though I hope she
doesn't follow Tony's example."

He felt the slight movement of air as Brad's hand reach over and stroked
through his hair.  "Me too.  And I'm glad you're OK with the money thing.
It really will help a lot."

After lying together silently for a few minutes, Brad got up and went
downstairs to the bathroom.  After he came back upstairs' Mike noticed that
he just sat on the edge of the bed.

"Pup?"

"Yeah?"  Mike replied, half asleep.

"Do you think I'll be an OK dad, I mean to you think I can really do
this. I know you can, but I'm kind of ..."

The bed shook as Mike bolted up.  "What's the matter?"

There was a pause before spoke.  "I am really excited and all, but...I
guess...I guess I just wonder how I'll be as a Dad.  I mean, I didn't
exactly have a good role model, and I've never done this before, but I
really do care, I just..."

Brad felt a hand on his face, forcing it to turn toward Mike.

"Will you listen to me?"  Mike asked, but not in a plaintive tone at all.

"Yea, of course, but..."

"Listening?", Mike said, cutting off the Brad's thought.

"Uh huh," Brad finally said, surrendering.

"Here's what I think.  I think that you'll be the best Dad ever.  It has
nothing to do with how you were treated, or what's going on in our lives.
It's because you care.  You care so much.  And that's the most important
thing in becoming a parent, that you put that person first."

"But what if I make mistakes?  What if I do something that really screws
them up?"

"No one is perfect, Babe, and certainly no one is a perfect parent.  And I
don't think it's one thing that hurts a kid, at least not from people who
truly love them.  It's the overall life and love you give them, and you're
a guaranteed success in that."

Brad's hands were now resting on his stomach, fingers crossed together.  "I
hope you're right babe.  I really want this, but it still scares me."

Mike scooted over on the bed, getting even closer to him, finally wrapping
his arms around Brad, who intertwined their fingers together.

"It scares me too, babe, believe me.  But I know you'll be great at it."
He said, but continued speaking, not allowing Brad to interrupt.  "And you
know what else?" he said, his voice getting even more firm and direct.  "I
can't imagine a better person to do this with than you."



         ******* "What does it say about the surrogate process and all the
other stuff?" Mike asked.  "I mean, how are they described?"

 It was late in the evening, after a long day of their full-time jobs of
Architect and Lawyer and part-time jobs of house-hunting and family
planning, and they were sitting together on the living room couch, talking
over the day like they always did.  Brad could smell Mike he was so close.
And he smelled great, at least to Brad.  Especially after a really long
day.

Brad, who had a stack full of books on the adjacent side table, told him
that the process didn't look too complicated, at least in the broad
outlines.  Basically, it looked like three main stages.  Selecting the egg
donor, inseminating the egg and finding a surrogate mother to carry the
egg.

They had the first one, and it looked like there were a lot of options for
the second and third.

"What do you think?  How do we chose the surrogate?"

"it's not exactly a decision you make on price," Brad answered, not able to
hide a smile, "but we have to do this right away, so I think we might need
to just do it on availability and who is convenient.  We should get some
references, first, though."  He almost laughed to himself again, seeing how
even something as significant, and even spiritual, had its practical and
mundane aspects"

After a little giggle himself, Mike got back to the serious issues.  "How's
Jill doing today?"

Brad raised his arms put his hands behind his head, causing Mike to lean
into him even more.  "Well, the prognosis seems a bit better, but she's
waiting on some more test results before they decide what kind of regimen
for the chemo. The deadline hasn't changed, though, for her to start on
something.  She needs to get going next week.  Grandpa and I will take
turns driving her to the Clinic."

"Let me know if you want me to drive, or if you need my Mom, she said she'd
be glad to help."

"OK, good." Brad answered as he watched Mike pull a manual off the top of
his pile.

"Gosh, there's just so much here, babe.  Do you need help doing all this?

 "No, that's OK, Pup, we can just keep going the way were doing it.  I'll
handle the baby side of things, since a lot of it's legal and contract
stuff anyway, and you do the house search which you can do a lot better
than me?"  Brad said, giving Mike a squeeze to the shoulder.  "Is that
still OK?"

"uh huh, sure."  Mike replied.  "Speaking of the house, the real estate
agent called and has couple places for us to look at.  I'll make a first
cut and then we can take a look at a couple of them with my folks."

"When do I need to make my deposit, as it were?"  Mike asked, unable to
hide another smile.

"No later than next Monday, I think.  That's when they'll want to take the
egg.  They can fertilize and freeze it, but we want to put that `bun in the
oven' as soon as possible."


					*****

"I just needed one deposit of sperm you guys," the fertility clinic
technician said, holding up the vial filled with Mike's viscous cum.  "This
looks like 3 or 4 deposits.  It's all filled up."  The tech declared.

They had picked the clinic because it was gay-friendly, in fact gay-owned,
but Mike was still a bit surprised by the informality of the chatty
technician.

"Um," he stuttered, surprised at his own reaction...that's just one,
um... one ejaculation."

The tech looked down at the vial then up at Mike.  "Holy crap!"  he said,
to Mike's embarrassment as Brad looked on, smiling with pride.

"But we'll have to see how many swimmers you got here," He added as took
the container with him through the simple metal door to the lab room of the
clinic. "We get a few gushers like this, but it's usually just compensation
for low sperm count," he said with a slightly smarmy tone as he regained
his composure.

"uh...OK."  Was all Mike could answer, as the tech retreated through the
`Clinic Personnel Only' door to a back room.

Brad reach over with both hands, stroking both sides of Mikes' arms. "Wow,
so far so good.  We got it out." Brad said as bent over and kissed Mike on
the cheek before they took their seats in the empty waiting room.  "You
know, I'm so used to volume of your cum.  You've always put out twice as
much as me."

"I guess so," Mike answered quietly, "but like he said, it might look like
a lot, but I hope I've got some real sperm in there," heeding the warning
about quantity versus quality."

A few minutes later the tech came out the door with a slightly dazed look
on his face.

 "You've not only got a ton of stuff here, but it's about the densest sperm
I've ever seen said as he then turned to Brad.  "I think if you ever want
to turn this guy out to stud that you could make some real good money.
High volume, high quality.  He's a smart successful professional, the kind
of great profile that sperm shoppers love.  Oh yeah, and way cute, too," he
added, with a knowing wink in Brad's direction.  "His stuff is white gold!"


      *******

The only person not looking forward to these new plans, was Niko, the
neighbor boy and the guy's unofficial `nephew.'  Normally an outgoing and
popular kid, everyone had noticed a certain withdrawal during the last few
weeks, especially when he heard about their search for a new house.

"Babe, what are we going to do about him?"  Brad said on a Saturday night,
propping himself up on the pillow.  Since it was a weekend night and Mike
could sleep in, he didn't feel anxious if he kept him up to talk.  He
almost didn't want to bring it up, what with all the things going on, but
Niko was important to both of them.

"What do you mean?"  Mike said, turning over quickly to face Brad. Mike
hadn't heard about a conversation that Brad had had with Niko's mother
earlier in the day, when she had come over to pick up some pastries from
Mrs. Kovar.

"He's been something of a problem recently," Brad said.  "According to his
mom he's gotten pretty withdrawn, not himself.  He doesn't say much about
what's going on in his head, but she's pretty sure it's because of our
move."

Mike laid[C. M.2] back in bed, now sitting up with his head against the
wooden headboard.  So many emotions tumbling about now.  Planning for a
child, but Jill's illness.  What to do about Tony?  Kurt and Hanna's
upcoming child – and theirs.

"What do you think we should do?"  Mike asked.

"I've been thinking about that." Brad said as he himself sat up in the same
way as Mike.  "We need to talk to him for sure, but I think we need to do
more than that, something to get him involved. And for sure let him now
that we aren't going to abandon him."

"Yea, not like that creep of a Dad that he had."

"Exactly.  That's probably what he's scared of, that we're abandoning him,
just like his old man did."

"So what did you have in mind" Mike asked.

"If this sounds OK, let's try this..." Brad replied, laying out his
strategy.

					*******

Got your seatbelt on, Niko?

"Yea, Uncle Mike.  But where are we going.  My mom just said I should go
with you," he said, his normally enthusiastic voice subdued.

"We're going to do some house hunting.  You and me."

Niko was quiet for moment, but Mike could see a quizzical look on his face
in the mirror.  "What do you mean?"

"Brad and I are both really busy now.  Between our jobs, looking for a
house and everything else (Niko's mom had tried to explain to him about the
baby, but he was still confused so Mike didn't want to get into that issue
right then) we have to divide up the tasks.  And since I'm an Architect and
I work with buildings, it's my job to look for the house.

"But what do you want me to do?  NIko was still subdued, but Mike thought
it was a good sign that he was at least asking questions.

"I need help.  A kid's point of view. I thought you'd be really good at it.
Plus, I know that you'll be visiting us a lot, maybe even staying over.  So
I'd like to see what you think of the places we look at."

Niko suddenly perked up. "Can I really come over? And maybe stay with you?"

Mike loved hearing the question, but just ached in his heart for him.  He
was a great kid, an excellent student, very popular and seemed happy on the
surface.  But would he always have this anxiety about being left behind?
`That fucking prick of a Dad of his,' Mike thought to himself.

"Of course.  We won't be all that far away, you could even ride your bike
if you're into a long ride.  Or your Mom could bring you over, or we could
pick you up.  We definitely want to keep you around.  Besides, you still
need help with your footwork!  Mike side, reaching over and tousling his
hair.  Mike wanted to coach kids someday, but right now only had time to
tutor Niko for his soccer club.

"Wow, yes!  this will be great he said, suddenly peppering Mike with
questions about how to get to this new neighborhood he was looking at and
what kind of places they would see.



						*******

"I thought you'd be ready for him now."

"Ready for whom?"  Mike asked, looking over some of the title documents for
the house they had bought, with a little help from Grandpa.

"Just look."

"It will be nice when we have the new place, with a little more room," he
said as the put the papers back on the kitchen table.  Turning his chair,
he looked over at Brad in the entry into the hallway, the archway over his
head, with a big grin on his face."

"What?" Mike asked just looking at his face.  The concentration on the
papers had been so intense he didn't notice anything at all unusual until
he followed those beautiful blue eyes that were looking down at the
floor. And a big smile came over Mike's face.

"Reese!"  He yelled, getting down on his knees to look him in the eye, just
like he did for Tony.

The dog was a bit shy at first, keeping near to Brad's leg, almost like a
little kid.  He warily approached Mike as he held out his hand, still not
exactly confident

Wearing a mischievous grin, Mike looked at the wary pooch.  "Just a minute,
Reesy," he said, already starting with the diminutives.  "I think I've got
something you'll like."

Without taking his eyes off of the dog, he got up and backed up to the
cabinet where they kept the dry food for Tony, who always insisted on a mix
of dry and wet mix of food in his bowl. Mike reached behind his back,
feeling his way to the usual food stash that hadn't been moved, even after
Tony passed.

He took out a couple of small pieces, looking down at them first, then
offering them to Reese, who immediately jumped toward him.

"Sit!"  Mike said, hoping, and praying a little, that the response would be
a familiar one.

Reese sat, but kept his eyes drilled into Mike.

"They said he was trained," Brad said, "But I wasn't sure if he'd know our
commands."

"I'm not sure he in fact does," Mike replied, his grin getting bigger, "
But he probably is just used to some kind of command or noise before he
eats, who knows, but it's nice to be already talking," he said as Reese
quickly devoured the snack, just like Tony would have.

The moment Reese finished he put his snout up to Mike, trying to push into
his crotch for the best scent as Mike gave the pooch a scratch to the head.

"Did he learn that from you?"  he said, looking up at Brad.

Thanks again for joining the story.  Getting busy again in real life, but
I'll try to get the next chapter out quicker.  Happy Holidays!



[C. M.1]It is usually, `in a daze' or `in a world of his own'

[C. M.2]I would spell this `laid', but I have seen this form so often that
I wonder if it has become an american variant.   My dictionary, which
usually shows such usage, does not include it but it may be more recent.