Date: Thu, 8 Jan 2015 00:23:33 +0100
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: Finding My Brother

FINDING MY BROTHER


Prologue

I knew from a very early age that I was adopted.  As an only child, I didn't
lack for attention and love.  My curiosity was aroused when my aunt
became pregnant and gave birth to a baby girl.  If my mother didn't give
birth to me, who did?  I asked her.  "We don't know, Johnny.  All we
know is that we waited for almost two years before the adoption agency
called to say they had a baby we could adopt."  The answer was not what I
wanted but with the mind of a five-year-old, I accepted it ... as I accepted
the fact that my parents loved me even though they were not my "real"
parents.  It was just one of many mysteries that I didn't worry about.

The mystery lay dormant in my mind but emerged when I entered high
school.  By then I was continually agonizing over my fascination with and
attraction to other boys.  A chapter on genetics in my biology text
prompted a question: Could I have inherited some rogue genes from my
biological parents that caused my obsessive interest in boys' bodies?  My
search for an answer took some astonishing turns.


PART ONE

The Quest

Before the explosive growth of the internet and affordable personal
computers my only sources of information were books in the high school
or public library.  Neither was any help.  A few explained what little was
then known about genetics but none mentioned homosexuality.  That left
me with two possible conclusions—no genetic basis for homosexuality
had been discovered or, if it had, the relationship to sexuality that was
condemned by religions and society had been deliberately excluded from
publically available resources.  The latter was, in my opinion, more likely.
How then could I solve the mystery of my unusual attraction to others of
my gender?  (Many called it abnormal and abhorrent.  I was unwilling,
however, to accept the implication of depraved, deviant, or pathologically
sick.  So I regarded it as merely unusual.)

Soon after entering college, my quest for information was rewarded.  The
university library had uncensored information that I could access.  I spent
hours pouring over textbooks and scientific journals ... without finding any
indisputable link between homosexuality and genetics.  (Even today, as I
write this, there is no conclusive link between biology and sexual
orientation.  Instead, there are only speculations about a complex interplay
of biological and environmental factors that influence sexual orientation.
And, of course, there is an abundance of divisive and politicized
arguments about causes and about morality.  Those arguments are all heat
and no light.)

Undeterred, I continued my part-time research while suppressing what the
poet Lord Alfred Douglas called `the love that dare not speak its name.'

I learned about biological differences between straight and gay
individuals—primarily brain structure.  There was no lack of speculation
about intrauterine environment and childhood influences.  But a complete
answer to my question, "Why am I different?" remained elusive.
Increasingly troublesome was the discouraging reality that, because of
religious and societal values, I would never be able to satisfy my need for
male companionship.

Early in my junior year of college, curiosity about my birth parents
peaked.  Although I no longer believed that the genes I inherited was the
single explanation for my strong attraction to men, I wanted to thank them
for bringing me into the world and assure them that I had been placed in a
home where I was well cared for.

My parents tried at first to discourage me from finding my birth parents.
However, after becoming convinced of my need to know, they relented
and became as supportive of my efforts as they had been for years with
virtually all of my activities and ambitions.  Their support was not merely
words of approval and encouragement.  They actively assisted me in
navigating the bureaucratic barriers erected by Children's Services.  After
a year of denied or ignored requests and frustrating dead-ends, we finally
learned the name of the woman who gave birth to me.  With only a
minimal amount of research, we learned that I was born at a hospital in
Dearborn and not far from where we lived in Ann Arbor.  AND, there was
a startling revelation.  The woman delivered TWINS.  I had a twin
brother!

The scope of my search expanded.  I had to locate my birth mother AND
my twin brother.  I knew my birth mother's maiden name and married
name.  It was a simple matter to find her address.  I could contact her but,
if my brother had also been adopted, it would be yet another challenge to
find and contact him.

My parents, who had helped me in my quest, began to question the
wisdom of contacting my birth mother.  They suggested the possibility
that putting me up for adoption was emotionally painful.  Reminding her
of the circumstances might be equally painful.  It was something to think
about but I reasoned that to learn her son had been placed in a good home
would outweigh whatever grief she might feel.


Reunion

I decided it would be better if the first contact was a face-to-face meeting
rather than a phone call.  After dinner on a Tuesday evening, I drove to
Dearborn, having first carefully thought through what I should say when
we met.   The neighborhood consisted of small, frame, 1950's era houses,
nearly all of them well-kept.  I found the house where my birth mother
lived.  A ten-year-old Chevrolet pickup truck was parked in the driveway.
My new Camaro seemed like it didn't belong in the plat.

I parked at the curb, took a few minutes to gather my courage, walked to
the front door, and rang the bell.  A middle-aged woman with long blond
hair and wearing an apron over her modestly cut dress opened the door.
Upon seeing a stranger, she said, "Whatever you're selling, I'm not
buying."

"I'm not selling anything, Ma'am.  Are you Ann Carter?"

"What if I am?" she asked confrontationally.

Ignoring her muted animosity and eager to continue the conversation
before she slammed the door in my face, I asked, "And did you give birth
to twin boys in the Dearborn County Hospital twenty-one years ago?"

She seemed stunned by the question.  Her face paled.  Her shoulders
drooped slightly.  But she didn't reply for a long time.  Eventually, she
recovered and forcibly asked, "And who the hell are you?  Why are you
asking me personal questions, anyway?  Get lost before I call the cops!"

She started to close the door but I said, "Please, Mom.  I just wanted to
meet you.  I have something important to tell you."

She just stood there staring at me for a while.  I think it was my calling her
`mom' that left her speechless.  The silence was awkward so I said, "My
name is Jonathan Simpson.  I'm one of the twins you brought into the
world.  I felt you had a right to know that I was placed in a loving, happy
home.  And I want you to know how grateful I am for being my mother."

Tears of happiness  came to her eyes.  She grabbed me in a very tight hug
and cried on my shoulder.  I hugged her back.  "Come in," she finally said.
"We have a lot to talk about."

Our conversation lasted for almost two hours.  She peppered me with
questions about my life, my adopted family, and my future plans.  She
listened intently to my answers and, it seemed to me, was pleased with
what she heard.  Well over an hour into the conversation she said, "Thank
you for finding me.  Thank you for coming to see me.  You don't know
how I've wondered ... and worried ... about what happened to you and
your brother."

That was the opening I had been waiting for and I said, "It was a surprise
when I found out in my search that I had a twin brother.  Do you know
how I might contact him?"

Her smile faded.  "No, I'm afraid not.  But there's something I need to tell
you.  I want to apologize.  Giving you up for adoption was the hardest
thing I ever had to do.  But I was sixteen years old.  My parents wouldn't
let me get an abortion and laid guilt on me for months.  They insisted on
giving up the baby when it was born.  I was a teenager.  With TWO
babies!  I was dependent on my parents for support.  I had no choice.  I'm
sorry, Jonathan.  I didn't want to do it.  But I had to.  And I've regretted
the decision ever since."  She broke into tears again.  This time they were
tears of intense sadness.

I put my arm around her shoulders and said, "I'm sorry, Mom.  Sorry for
the pain you've had to live with."

When she regained control of herself, she looked into my eyes and said,
"Please, Jonathan.  Please keep in touch.  Please."

"I will.  But I hope you can take comfort that at least one of your sons has
had a happy home.  And that he loves you."

It was getting late.  We hugged again and I left, glad that a lonely, guilt-
ridden woman had been able to meet her son.


A Second Quest

My parents eagerly listened to my report on meeting my birth mother and
were pleased.  I concluded my account by saying, "Yes, I think it went
well.  But now I want to find my twin brother."

Dad grinned and replied, "I figured you would.  What can we do to help?"

His response did not surprise me.  "Thanks a million," I said.  "That's
another reason why I love you both so much."

Battling the bureaucracy at Children's Services a second time was
considerably easier, perhaps because their primary focus is protecting the
identity of a birth mother; they were not too hesitant about shielding
siblings.  Or perhaps they realized that I would pester them until I got
what I wanted.  Whatever the reason, only two months passed before I had
the name and address of the couple who adopted my brother.  I drove to
the address and rang the doorbell.  A very old man opened the door.
"Excuse me, Sir," I said.  "I was looking for the Andrews family."

"Nobody here by that name," he growled.

"Perhaps they moved.  It's been several years since I visited them."

"I've lived here fifteen years," he said, his tone softening somewhat.
"You must have been a little boy then.  Are you sure this is the house you
want?"

"Quite sure," I replied.  "I wanted to return something the Andrews' son
loaned to me.  I just found it among my things and knew it meant a lot to
him.  Do you know where they moved?"

"Sorry.  I don't.  All I know is that the house had been vacant for three
months before I bought it and moved in."

The trail had turned suddenly cold.  All I could do was thank the old man
and leave.

I scanned the telephone directories for cities throughout southern
Michigan, northern Ohio and Indiana and found sixteen listings for
Norman Andrews, the adoptive father's name.  I began calling numbers
and asking, "Did you adopt a baby boy about twenty years ago?"  After
about ten `no' answers, my disappointment mounted.  But then I got the
answer I hoped for, "Yes.  Why do you want to know?"

My hopes were reignited.  "Let me explain.  My name is Jonathan
Simpson.  I was adopted as an infant.  Recently, I wanted to meet my birth
mother.  After a very long search, I learned her name and was able to
locate her and talk to her.  I also learned that she gave birth to twins.  But
they were adopted by different families.  I'm now searching for my twin
brother.  I'd very much like to meet him.  Did you know that the baby you
adopted has a twin brother?"

There was a pause.  "No."

"It's true, Ma'am.  I'd very much like to meet him, to get to know him.
But that depends on whether or not he knows he was adopted."

"Yes, he knows he was adopted ... but not that he has a twin."

Does he still live with you?"

"No.  He's a student at Michigan State."

"Thank you.  I'd like to contact him.  May I ask his name, phone number,
and mailing address?"

There was an uncomfortable pause.  "Before I give that information, I'd
prefer to contact him myself to see if he's interested.  If he is, I'll let you
know.  What's your phone number?"

I gave her my phone number and she promised to let me know her son's
decision.

A week later, I had all but given up hope.  But Mrs. Andrews called.
"David was `blown away' by the fact that he had a twin brother
somewhere.  And he's eager to meet you."

"How can I contact him?"  She gave me his first name, David, and his
phone number.  "Thank you ma'am.  I really appreciate your help."


First Encounter

My next phone call was to David Andrews, my twin brother.  There was
no answer.  I left a voice mail giving my name and phone number and
concluding with, "Please call me.  I'd like to meet you.  I think we have
something special in common."

In the late afternoon of the next day he returned my call.  "This is David.
Is what you told my mother true?"

"Without a doubt.  I've seen the records from the Dearborn County
Hospital and from Children's Services.  I won't bore you with the time
and effort it took.  I've met with our birth mother and everything she tells
me corroborates the fact that we're twins.  I'd like to meet with you so we
can get to know each other.  How about it?  Are you as interested as I am
in getting together?"

"Absolutely!  I understand you live in Ann Arbor.  Would you be willing
to come to East Lansing?"

"Of course.  What's the best time for you?"

"My days are quite full ... what with school work and a part time job.  But
Saturday afternoon is my free time for R and R."

"That works for me.  Should I come to the address your mother gave me?"

After a short pause, David said, "No.  My roommate will be there.  I'd
prefer to talk privately.  Let me think a minute."  After a short pause he
continued, "I've got it.  There's a great Mexican restaurant—El Azteco—
I've been there often.  The lunch crowd thins out by half past one.  Why
don't we meet at one, have lunch, and then hang around to compare
notes."

"Sounds fine with me.  You say it's called El Azteco?"

"Right.  It's at 215 Ann Street.  If you get lost, just ask anybody for
directions.  They're sure to point you in the right direction.  Oh, by the
way, so you can recognize me in the crowd, I'll wear black jeans and tee
shirt and have a book bag slung over one shoulder."

"See ya at one on Saturday, Bro.  I'm really looking forward to it."

Because I misjudged the travel time to East Lansing or perhaps because of
my eagerness to meet my brother, I arrived at the El Azteco twenty
minutes before one.  David must have been just as eager.  He was standing
near the front door scanning the people entering the restaurant.  I walked
over to him and said, "David?"

"Yeah!  Jonathan?"

"That's me."

He shook my hand, holding on for much longer than customary, while
saying, "Thanks for coming.  Thanks for finding out about us.  As you can
imagine it was quite a shock to learn that I had a twin brother.  But I'm
glad to know that.  And even more glad to meet you."

"I know the feeling, Bro.  I was also surprised.  And just as happy to get
together."

A vague mental image of what my twin brother might look like had been
taking shape in my mind—dark hair like mine, similar facial features, and
about six feet tall.  David matched my image in several ways but the
differences struck me in ways that aroused long-suppressed emotions.
There was his infectious smile that seemed to evoke a carefree personality.
And a somewhat muscular, solidly built body that was accentuated by his
tight tee shirt.  I felt the urge to check out his package but, by strength of
habit, resisted.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Yes.  For food and for information."

He chuckled.  "Me, too.  Let's go inside and eat.  And talk."

While eating we shared stories of our early lives but, as if by unspoken
agreement, did not mention anything that might be overheard by others
about the circumstances of our birth, separation, and reunion.  The
similarities of interests and ambitions were eerie.  His major in college
was psychology; mine was sociology.  His goal was to become a high
school counselor (owing to what he said was a substantial impact on his
life by a counselor in his high school); mine was social work so I could
help marginalized people overcome their impoverished lives.  Neither of
us had a consuming interest in sports although we both attended pep rallies
and games while in college in order to "fit in" with our peers.  Our
questions came unscripted and spontaneously; our answers (or, for sure,
mine) were honest and uninhibited.

An immediate bond had formed between us, which was due less to the fact
of our being twins than to the easy, rewarding banter of our conversation.
Before we knew it, we had chatted for more than an hour.  Still, we had
more to share so we continued talking.  With the relative privacy of a
nearly empty restaurant, he asked about how I was able to track him down
and about our birth mother.  I filled him in on the details of my search and
my conversation with our birth mother.

Eventually, he said, "It's been fabulous to meet you.  Thanks again for all
the work you've done to make it possible.  I'm afraid I have to go now.
Can we get together again?  And again?  For the rest of our lives?"

"Absolutely!" I said emphatically.  I was sorry to have our time together
end but elated over the prospect of continuing contact.

We argued over the check but I insisted on paying.  We walked outside.  I
was reluctant to say goodbye and he seemed to be also.  On the sidewalk
outside, he grabbed me in a tight hug, which I returned.  We stood there,
oblivious to what bystanders may think, for several minutes.  One of the
onlookers startled us by shouting, "You BASTARD!"  We broke the hug
and looked at the source of the disruption—as did several other people in
the vicinity.  A young man stepped toward us and launched into an angry
tirade.  "You said you were going to the library.  You lied!  You wanted to
meet your other lover.  We promised each other to be faithful.  That was a
lie, too!  Does his cock taste as good as mine?  When you fuck me are you
imagining that it's him?  This is the final straw!  It's over with us!"

David, clearly upset, said, "You've got it all wrong, Rex.  This is my
brother and....

Interrupting, Rex shouted, "Bull shit!  Another lie!  You don't have a
brother.  And you don't have me as your fuck-buddy anymore."  He
stormed off without any interest in hearing an explanation of the hug he
witnessed.

Clearly shaken, David quietly said, "I guess it's pretty obvious now that
I'm gay.  That was my roommate.  He moved in with me about six weeks
ago.  At first I thought it would work out but he's interested in nothing but
sex.  No long-term, committed relationship.  But we didn't get along ...
more and more arguments.  Breaking up was inevitable.  I'm just sorry it
happened this way.  I apologize for your being a part of it."

I put a hand on David's shoulder and said, "Based only on what I saw of
him, it sounds like you're lucky to be rid of him."

"True enough," David said.  "That's the good news.  The bad news is that
you know your brother is queer."

I couldn't help it.  I laughed.  He looked at me incredulously and said, "I
guess that means you won't want anything to do with me."

"Quite the contrary, Bro.  If anything, that's another bond we have."

He backed away from me slightly with an expression of either confusion
or amazement.  "What does that mean?" he asked.

"Simple," I replied.  "I'm gay also.  The only difference between us is that
you have a partner ... or HAD a partner ... but I'm a virgin very deep in the
closet.  You're the only one who knows my secret.

He stared at me before saying, "Are you serious?  Or just trying to be
nice?"

"Quite serious," I replied.  "I've known it for years but didn't have the
cajones to tell anyone ... or do anything with anyone.  My only relief is
with my fist.  My only partner—if you can call it that—is in my fantasies."

"This is incredible!  What were the chances of meeting a brother I didn't
know I had?  And the chances are nearly nonexistent that we're both gay."

"All the more reason to stay in touch," I grinned.


The Last Barrier Falls

My parents were happy for me when I told them about my meeting with
David.  They would have been upset and disappointed if I had told them
about the confrontation with Rex.  They were not virulently homophobic
but were more than moderately religious, which is one of the reasons I
kept my sexual interests secret.

David and I talked by phone frequently during the next two weeks.  Each
time, it seemed, one or both of us mentioned a desire to get together.  But
our only time together was when my parents invited him to dinner one
Saturday night and I was invited to meet his parents for dinner the
following Saturday.

That opportunity to be together without parents present came
unexpectedly two weeks before graduation.  David called to say, "My
parents are giving me a graduation present—a five-day vacation to
Mackinac Island State Park.  They figure that I need some relaxation time
after months of a part-time job and attending college."

"That's terrific.  I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"There's more," he said brightly.  "They want to know if you can join
me."

"Does that mean...?."

"Yes!  They want both of us to enjoy the vacation.  Together.  I guess my
comments about how much I liked you influenced their offer.  How about
it?  Can you come along right after graduation?"

"I'd be happy to.  Thanks.  And be sure to thank your parents."

The first two days on the island were filled with sight-seeing.  And there
were plenty of places to explore.  It was pure delight.  Except when the
day ended and we returned to our room in a lodge to go to bed.  We shared
a room (separate beds) and we were both discrete about shedding our
clothes.  I have no clue about David's state of mind but mine was chaotic.
Seeing him nude except for his boxer shorts inspired awe and invigorated
my repressed yearnings.  I can't say how he felt but I guessed he had no
such feelings.  We were equally discrete about showers in the morning
(separately).  I was again aroused by images of him totally naked in the
bathroom.

On the third day, we were sitting on the lake shore watching the sun set.
Little was said.  Each of us lost in our own thoughts; both of us
comfortable with the silence as only two very good friends can be.  As the
last glow of the sun faded from the horizon, David asked, "Shall we go
back to the lodge and turn in early?  It'll be dark soon and it's a long
walk."

Half way back to the lodge, I asked, "Whatever happened to Rex?"

"He moved out the day after his tantrum.  I haven't seen or heard from
him since.  Which suits me just fine.  He's not the kind of guy I want to
spend my life with."

"And what kind of guy are you looking for?"

David stopped walking.  I turned around to face him.  He just stared at me.
I feared my question was insensitive or inappropriate.  I was about to
apologize when he said, "I'm looking at him right now."

The enormity of the implication stunned me, so much so that I blurted out,
"Me?"

"Yes!  You!  In the short time we've known each other my admiration for
you has grown.  You have all the qualities I would ever want in a partner.
You're bright.  You're sensitive to others' feelings—mine in particular.
You're fun to be with.  You've got initiative and ambition.  I could go on
and on but the point is this.  I can't imagine being anything but happy with
you by my side."

"I could say the same things about you, Bro.  And I'll admit that I've
given thought to living with you.  But I discounted the possibility because
I was afraid I was thinking with my dick instead of my head.  If you're
suggesting that we become gay partners—with all that goes with it—I'm
afraid I'll have to give it more thought.  And please don't take my
hesitancy as anything more than just needing a little time to absorb what
you're suggesting."

David grinned.  "You have until tomorrow morning.  And you'll have to
endure the attention and affection I lavish on you in bed tonight."

His `threat' was extraordinarily tempting.  It was what I wanted and
needed for far too long.  But I had to ask, "Are you thinking with your
dick right now?"

"Yes and no.  I'm horny and you're desirable.  But make no mistake.  I've
given a lot of thought—using my head—to living with you.  And the
inescapable conclusion is that I want you as a partner.  The sex is
enjoyable for sure.  But it's infinitely better when it's an expression of
love and not just two bodies with orifices and appendages seeking
physical gratification."

David put into words what I had concluded earlier.  Sure, there were times
when lust drove my interest in another guy.  But my deeper need was
companionship with someone with whom I could share every facet of my
life.  Still, I hesitated to fully commit.  "We agree on the essence of a
partnership.  And I welcome your suggestion of having sex tonight.  But I
still want some time to think it through."

David introduced me to the ecstasy of sex that night.  Aware that I was a
virgin, he proceeded gently, patiently, and skillfully.  It exceeded my
expectations.  We then cuddled together with our naked bodies
intertwined.  It was period of unimaginable bliss.

David fell asleep long before I did.  I had the experience of a lifetime and
spent a very long time reflecting on the out-of-this-world sensations.  And
at least an equal amount of time contemplating the possibility of being in a
committed gay relationship.  With my twin brother!

By morning, even before showering (together) and a prolonged encore of
the previous night's sexual activities, I had made a momentous decision.  I
had found what I desperately wanted or, more accurately, what we both
wanted.  I would give my body and soul to David for as long as he would
have me.

And thus began the happiest chapter of my life.


Part Two


A Problem to Solve

By the final day of their five-day vacation on Mackinac Island, Jonathan
and David had seen all they wanted to see and done all they wanted to do
as tourists.  There were far more important things on their mind.  The most
immediate need was to enjoy each other by exploring the delights of
intimate coupling in various forms and to cuddle together with their naked
bodies locked in a physical bond until their very beings merged into an
increasingly strong emotional bond.

A second need, however, loomed.  Both young men were aware of the
problem they would face living together as a gay couple.  But both seemed
willing to delay addressing the practical, yet significant problems they
would inevitably face in the future.  Immediate issues must be resolved.
And soon.  However, the unparalleled joy of the present must be savored.

It was mid-morning.  They had skipped breakfast to prolong their time in
bed together.  Reluctantly they got out of bed and dressed, skipping a
shower because the hotel's maid was due soon.  Having ordered lunch in
the restaurant, they sat largely in silence because what was on each of their
minds could not safely be discussed when surrounded by other diners.  As
the silence became awkward, David said, "I know what you're thinking."

"Do you blame me?  It was magnificent ... far better than I imagined it
would be."

"It was for me, too," David ginned.  "But something else is on my mind.
What do we do tomorrow ... and all the tomorrows after that?"

Jonathan frowned at being forced to think of the problems they would
soon face.  After a pause, he said, "We'll work it out."

Their meals arrived, affording an opportunity to talk about the food and
their activities on the island during the previous few days.  Upon finishing
their meal, David suggested, "Let's walk down to the shore, enjoy the
natural beauty, and relax for a while."

Jonathan comprehended the underlying meaning.  It was isolated and an
ideal place to talk about their future.

Having settled down on the rocky shoreline, David said, "Forgive me for
bringing up the past but I want you to know how much better sex with you
is than it ever was with Rex.  For him, it was all about physical
gratification.  But with you there's another, deeper sense of satisfaction.  I
think it's because of a profound affection for you.  It's as if our souls are
merging and not just our bodies.  That's a feeling I've never had.  And it
surpasses the physical.  It's almost spiritual.  And infinitely more
satisfying than pure sex.  Don't get me wrong.  Sex with you is terrific.
But it's the...  How can it put it?  It's the contentment of meeting a need
that transcends erotic sensations.  Shit!  I'm not making any sense."

"Perfect sense, David.  Every word you spoke describes what I feel.  But
maybe understates how I feel.  That's because I've never had sex with a
guy.  So my euphoria is a product of both the physical and the emotional.
Being with you goes way beyond my expectations.  The sex is better than
I imagined in my wildest dreams.  But I didn't anticipate how much
another guy would mean to me.  I'm talking about how much I respect and
admire you ... and about the honor of your choosing me as a partner."

David picked up a small rock and threw it into the water.  He sat pensively
for a few moments and said, "I think what we both mean—without using
the word—is love.  Do you think so?'

"Yes.  It's often thought that true love takes time to mature and that `love
at first sight' is a myth.  But in our case ... at least in mine ... I was
attracted to you the first time we met.  And it wasn't only lust although
that was definitely a part of it.  The more we saw each other, the more I
wanted you as a friend, a very good friend.  How much of that is due to
our being twin brothers?  I don't know.  But I know one thing for sure.
Life won't be nearly as complete without you in it.  Love?  Yes!  But more
than brotherly love ... much more.  It's a powerful combination of
brotherly love and romantic love—each strengthening the other.  It's a
love that implies a strong desire to make you happy, to support you in
times of trouble, and, perhaps most importantly, to do whatever it takes to
earn your love in return."

"Elegantly said," David replied.

"Maybe." Jonathan grinned.  "But what I said is the result of a lot of
thinking last night after you fell asleep."

"Whatever!  Just to be clear, I agree with everything you said.  I DO love
you ... both as brother and as a very important part of my life."

Jonathan glanced around.  Seeing no one, he passionately kissed his new
life-mate to tangibly affirm the bond of love between them.  Breaking the
kiss, he said, "I'd like to do more than kiss you but I think we need to talk
for a while.

"About our future.  Right?"

"Yes." David replied.  "We can be sure of only one more day and night
together.  Tomorrow we go back to our families and our former lives.  We
need to conjure up some way to be together.  Got any ideas?"

"I've given it some thought.  Not a lot because everything has been
happening so fast.  So far I haven't come up with anything."


Problem Solved (for now)

They sat quietly for a long time until David said, "You've got a job lined
up in Detroit.  When do you start?"

"In three weeks."

"I'm not so lucky ... or paying for my own stupidity.  I've applied to
several school districts for a high school counselor's position.  They all
require a Master's Degree or a Teaching Certificate or both.  I shoulda
checked that out sooner but I thought a degree in psychology would be
enough to qualify me.  So here I am ... a college graduate with no job
prospects."

There was another long period of silence until Jonathan said, "I'll be
moving to someplace close to Detroit.  I'll find an apartment closer to
work than Ann Arbor.  The Social Services Agency I'll work for is huge
with a lot of departments.  And it always needs people.  Here's my idea.
You can get a job with the agency and we can share an apartment.  It all
depends on whether you're interested in helping the homeless, single
parents, the elderly, troubled youth, and other folks who have problems.  I
know it's not what you really want to do.  It's just an idea."

David silently considered the possibility and said, "I'm not sure about that
kind of job.  But I couldn't be more sure about the chance to live with
you."

"Okay.  Here's another idea.  If you don't like the job at the agency, you
can look around for other jobs more to your liking.  That's an option I'm
keeping open for myself."

"That's certainly a possibility.  And it's essentially the position I'm in
now—looking for a job.  But I have to be honest, Jonathan.  Helping the
needy isn't high on my list of priorities.  I don't have your compassion.'

"Wouldn't you be helping the needy as a high school counselor?"

"Touché, my friend!  But I'm sure you see the difference and understand
what I mean."

"Of course I do."

"I'll give it some thought.  In the meantime, maybe one of us will think of
another possibility."

The two young lovers spent much of the day exploring ways to live
together with the dominant priority being able to live together.  A few
ideas were potentially promising but most were discarded for one or
another reason.  As dinner time arrived, Jonathan's first idea was at the top
of a short list of possibilities although David was not yet ready to fully
commit to working at a Social Services Agency.

Jonathan suspected David was not completely forthcoming in explaining
his hesitancy so he asked, "Is there some reason for your reluctance to
help needy people?"

David's typical pleasant attitude seemed to evaporate.  He though for a
few minutes before saying, "I'm not sure.  Maybe I'm just scared of
getting into a completely unfamiliar territory.  I have absolutely no
experience dealing with..."  He struggled to find the right words.  "...with
down-and-out people.  My whole life has been spent in Birmingham, an
affluent suburb with upscale homes, over 95% white, and no poverty.
Single parents usually hire a nanny/housekeeper.  There are no homeless
people.  I'm not sure I can relate to the clients of the agency.  And see the
world as they see it.  And understand their needs.  Right now, all I have to
go on is a vague notion of what it's like to be poor or feeble or constantly
made to feel inferior.  If I'm honest with myself ... and with you ... I'm
afraid my perspective is based on rigid stereotypes that are subtle but
always present ...  and powerful in the world where I grew up."

"For what it's worth, David, I think you're underestimating your ability.
One of the things I admire in you is your capacity to listen to other people.
You don't just hear.  You LISTEN.  I've often seen you talk WITH
people, not TO them or AT them.  That skill, however it developed, is
precisely what will help you help others."

"Thanks for the complement.  I'll consider your assessment in my
decision."

After dinner as they again watched the sunset over the lake, David said, "It
looks like your first idea is the best alternative.  Who knows?  I may like
the job.  If not, I could find a different job.  Or we both might.  What's
important is that we can be together."


Joy Ends, Loneliness Begins

Their time together in bed that night gave them two types of immense
pleasure.  There was the physical—erotic stimulation leading to an intense
explosion of primal gratification.  Both were magnified by their affection
for each other.  That was followed by a period of emotional and quasi-
spiritual connection.  This was the period when they cuddled with arms
and legs entwined in a state of euphoric bliss.  Their mutual affection
would more accurately and assuredly be called love.

Their morning love-making was equally enjoyable physically.  It was
drawn out because they knew it was their last opportunity.  Although
neither voiced any thought about their impending separation, both had the
same concern. Beginning later that day there could be no intimate
coupling nor giving and receiving loving attention.  It might be for a long
time that would have to be endured.  Only when Jonathan found an
apartment in Detroit could David join him and the painful separation come
to an end.

They had lunch, checked out of the lodge in mid-afternoon, and walked to
the long-term parking garage where Jonathan had left his car.  The
relatively short drive to David's home was filled with conversation,
mostly chit-chat, except when Jonathan pulled into an empty parking lot,
stopped the car, and said, "We're almost there.  But I wanted to tell you
how much I appreciate your inviting me to share your vacation.  And ... to
reaffirm my love for you.  We won't be able to express our love for each
other for a while but it will be worth the waiting."

The two lovers impulsively and passionately kissed each other for a long
time.

They arrived at David's home in the early evening.  Both got out of the
car.  "Are you coming in?" David asked.

"Yes.  I want to thank your parents."

Entering the house, they heard Mrs. Andrews squeal, "David!  Jonathan!
I'm so happy to see you."

"And we're happy to be home, Mom." David replied.

Jonathan quickly added, "I wanted to let you know how much I
appreciated being included in David's vacation.  It was a splendid week."

"Come in." the woman said.  "Sit down.  Both of you.  I want to hear all
about it."

For nearly an hour the two young men recounted what they saw and what
they did—with, of course—some obvious omissions.

"If you don't mind, Ma'am, I think I should get home.  My parents will be
looking for me."

"Of course, dear boy.  But come to visit whenever you have time."

David escorted his lover to the car.  Both of them regretted that their
companionship was being interrupted for even a short time.  They parted
with promises to stay in touch by telephone.


One Message, Different Reactions

David's disclosure to his parents that he was applying for a job with a
Social Services Agency in Detroit was met with complete surprise.  "You
can't be serious!" his father exclaimed.

"But I am," David replied.  "Jonathan, as you know, will also be working
there.  During our week at Mackinac Island we had plenty of time to talk
about it.  I became convinced that it is more than being a `do-gooder'.
There are plenty of people who haven't had the benefits that I have.  If I
can help them, it will be a very rewarding experience."

"Places like that don't pay well," his father countered.  "You'll never be
able to live comfortably."

"I know that," David said.  "There's nothing wrong with living
comfortably but there's nothing wrong with making a meaningful
difference in other people's lives.  If I can't have both comfortable wealth
and the satisfaction of helping others, I'll choose to help others in need."

Exasperated, the man turned to his wife and said, "Help me out here, Ann.
Your son is making a big mistake."

"OUR son, Norman," the woman corrected.  "And I think he's smart
enough to make the choice and I admire the choice he's made."

The disagreement devolved into an argument between the father holding
fast to his opinion on the one side and the mother and son using reason
(unsuccessfully) to convince the disappointed and disgruntled father who
eventually stormed out of the room.

"I'm sorry, Mom.  I hate being the cause of trouble between you and
Dad."

"Don't worry about it, Son.  He'll cool down.  He always has.  He may not
change his mind but he'll accept your decision sooner or later."

Jonathan's parents had long ago reacted similarly to his choice of a career
but, being more familiar with the plight of needy people, they initially
limited their comment to questions that would test Jonathan's awareness
of what lay ahead.  Ultimately, they supported him just as they had when
Jonathan was determined to find his birth mother.

The two young lovers compared notes over the phone about parental
expectations and their offspring's aspirations.  Jonathan agreed that he was
fortunate to have the parents he did but encouraged David to be patient.
"Your father may come to accept your decision.  Even if he doesn't, he
will still love you."

The two sets of parents had eerily similar reactions when their sons
announced they would be sharing an apartment in Detroit.  The notable
difference was that David's father was more subdued in his objections and
Jonathan's parents were extremely pleased that the twins would maintain a
close relationship.  They didn't know, however, just how close the
relationship had become.


Part Three


What is Truth?

At David's request, Jonathan arranged a visit to Ann Carter, their birth
mother.  He said nothing about bringing along his twin brother because he
wanted to surprise her.  They arrived at the woman's modest house and
Miss Carter opened the door before her visitors had a chance to ring the
doorbell.  She seemed confused by having not one but two guests or,
perhaps, by their striking similarity in looks.

"Hi, Mom," Jonathan said.  "I'd like you to meet my twin brother and
your son, David."

The dumbstruck woman is speechless.  Her eyes begin to tear up.  After a
few moments to comprehend the significance of meeting BOTH her sons,
she impulsively seized David in an embrace.  It was then David's turn to
be surprised.  The immediate sign of affection was unexpected but he
recovered quickly and hugged his birth mother in return.  They held each
other longer than David would have liked but Miss Carter eventually said,
"Come in!  I want to hear all there is to know about you, David."

It was almost an hour of questions and David's answers.  The woman's
mood changed when she mentioned the painful experience of giving up
her babies for adoption.  "I know that," David said.  "It must have been
terrible for you."

"And ever since ... for years," she replied.

The conversation resumed but suddenly, the shock of seeing BOTH her
"babies" who had grown into handsome men diminished and she gasped,
"Jonathan!  David!  Praise the Lord!"  The visitors were confused by the
sudden outburst but only momentarily because she continued, "I've prayed
to the Lord since the day you were taken from me.  I pleaded with God to
make sure you would go to good homes and turn out to be honorable men.
I've wondered and worried about you for twenty years."  Raising her
voice slightly, she continued, "Your names!  It's a sign from God that my
prayers have been answered!"

"Our names?" both young men answered in unison.

"YES!" she triumphantly exclaimed.  "Just like in the Bible!   Jonathan
was the son of Saul, king of Israel.  David slew Goliath so Saul made him
part of the royal family.  David and Jonathan were then like brothers and
became very good friends.  Don't you see?  David!  Jonathan!  Very good
friends.  Just like you two."

Neither of the young men wanted to dispute what she felt was the divine
significance of having the same names.

As they drove away, the two lovers reflected on the visit, including her
outburst of thanksgiving to God.  David remarked, "The similarity of
names is nothing more than coincidence.  But if it gives her any comfort, I
suppose it can do no harm."

"True," Jonathan replied.  "But I don't want you to go out looking for a
Goliath to slay."

David laughed.  "One thing about the Bible story and ours is weird."

"Oh?"

"Yeah.  David and Jonathan in the Bible were very good friends.  So are
we.  Do you suppose....?"

"Don't even go there!" Jonathan interrupted.  "There are, of course,
various interpretations of the Bible story.  But all of them are based at
least in part on pure conjecture.  Many say they were just good friends.
Others claim there was more to their friendship—romantic love or even
sexual desire and possibly sexual contact."

"So you know about the Jonathan-David relationship in the Bible?"

"I do.  But only because we had a lecture in one of my classes.  The prof
used the story—among others—to warn us against drawing conclusions
from limited details.  Without more definitive evidence, we can't draw
unjustified conclusions because they would be tainted with conjecture—
conjecture that conveniently fits some preconceived bias.  Some use
ambiguous wording in the Bible to reinforce and validate their beliefs."

David thought about that for a moment and said, "Yeah.  I had a psych
prof who used several examples of people filtering what they heard or
read, blocking or rejecting anything that conflicted with their
preconceptions but remembering whatever might reinforce their beliefs."

"Happens all the time," Jonathan agreed.  "I always remind myself of
something George Bernard Shaw said. `Beware of false knowledge.  It's
more dangerous than ignorance.'"

"Yeah, I've heard that one," David replied thoughtfully.  "It sounds
reasonable but how can you tell when the knowledge is false?  Take any of
a number of examples from religion.  Look at the wide variety of religions
in the world that have conflicting views of truth.  Or politics.  Activists
take one position or its opposite on an issue, each convinced that their
reality is the true one.  Even scientists who brag about logically deriving
the truth from factual evidence argue that their theory is right and others
are wrong.  So how can you ever be sure that knowledge is true or false?"

"Excellent argument, David.  But I have some knowledge that is
undeniably true—not a hint of falseness in it.  I love you.  I love you more
every day."

David grinned.  "Let's hope it never becomes false.  Tomorrow, next year,
not even when we're old and gray."


The Good, the Bad, the Ugly

A week later, David answered the phone and received the news he had
been waiting for.  "David, it's me.  Great news!  I've rented a furnished
apartment.  It's not luxurious but it's comfortable.  I can't wait until you
come."

"That IS great news," David gushed.

"Wait.  There's more.  I got a list of several job openings at the agency.
You'll have your choice of which to apply for.  I'm confident you'll get at
least a few offers so you can pick the one that suits you."

"Can I come see your apartment?  Tonight?"

Jonathan laughed, "You want to see my apartment?  Not to see me?"

"Of course I do, smart-ass.  In fact, I'll tell my parents I may stay a few
days for job interviews.  How does that sound?"

"I was hoping you would."

After giving David the address and directions, the conversation ended.
Both young men were delighted that their painful separation was over.
David then broke the news to his parents.  His mother accepted it
gracefully in spite of the fact that her `little boy' was leaving the nest.  His
father, however, still harbored a festering disappointment and disapproval
of his son's choice of jobs.  All he said was, "You're making a huge
mistake.  And you'll regret it."

David wisely chose not to dispute his father's prediction.  Instead, he
packed a bag with a few changes of clothes, said goodbye, and left.

The reunion was joyful.  After a quick snack in lieu of dinner, the two
wasted no time in demonstrating their love for each other.  In bed. Until
nearly midnight.

In less than two weeks, David had three job offers.  He accepted the most
appealing: a case worker in the Social Services Agency.  After several
weeks of training and accompanying an experienced case worker, his
duties would include periodic visits to foster homes to assure that there
were no problems and to investigate the background and living conditions
of those who applied to take in a foster child.  Jonathan underwent a
similar period of training and shadowing an experienced worker,
eventually working solo to help clients with a wide variety of services,
occasionally counseling but more frequently referring those in need to
available resources—health care, job training, substance abuse, housing,
financial aid, and more.

Both David and Jonathan found their jobs to be challenging but each
derived a lot of satisfaction from helping others.  Their salaries were not
generous but their combined income was ample to provide for basic needs.
Their days were busy and sometimes hectic but they were happy, mostly
because of the evenings and nights when they compared notes, exchanged
ideas, and simply enjoyed living together.  Their love-making capped each
day.  Their devotion to each other steadily grew.

By tacit agreement, they kept the true nature of their relationship secret.
Neither was ashamed of being gay but did not want to risk the persecution
that might conceivably cost them their jobs.  They maintained periodic
contact with their parents who accepted the unusual but acceptable
situation of their sons sharing an apartment.

Their private lives together were jeopardized when David's father stopped
by the apartment.  Jonathan answered the knock on the door.  "Mr.
Andrews," he exclaimed, his expression revealing his surprise.  "Come
in."

"Sorry to come unannounced," the man said.  "But this package for David
was delivered to my house by registered mail and I thought it must be
important so I decided to drop it off on my way home from work."

The man handed Jonathan a large manila envelope.  Jonathan took it and
put it on the kitchenette counter.  "Can you stay for a little while?  David
isn't home yet but I expect him soon."

"Only a little while."

"Good.  Please have a seat in the living room.  I'll just turn down the heat
in the oven.  We're having a casserole for dinner tonight.  There will be
enough if you care to join us for dinner."

"No thanks, Jonathan.  Mrs. Andrews and I are meeting friends for a late
supper."

Jonathan checked the casserole and turned off the oven.  Busy with the
oven and with his back to the door, he didn't hear David come in.  Turning
around to go back to the living room, he was stunned to see David beside
him.  Before he could say anything, David seized him in a hug and kissed
him on the lips.  Jonathan quickly broke free and haltingly said, "David ...
uh ... your father ... is in the living room."

"Oh, shit!" David muttered almost inaudibly.  He tried, unsuccessfully, to
compose himself as he turned around, saw his Dad scowling menacingly,
and said, "Hi, Dad.  This is a surprise."

Mr. Andrews stood and replied, "A surprise for me as well.  And a very
unpleasant one at that."

"Dad, I suppose we'd better have a talk."

"No talk is necessary, David," the furious man growled.  "Nor would it
excuse what I've witnessed.  It's eminently clear that you two are perverts
... living in sin.  I don't care to hear any phony bull shit about queers being
normal or being in love.  I'll be on my way now ... to get some fresh, clean
air."  He strode toward the front door.

"Wait, Dad!  Can't you even listen to what I have to say?"

There was no reply.  The door slammed behind the infuriated man.


Recovery

David collapsed on the sofa.  His tears came in torrents.  Jonathan sat
beside him with one arm around his partner's shoulders and the other
across his chest.  David shifted toward his lover, returned the hug, and
buried his head into Jonathan's shoulder.  For a long time, no words were
spoken.  None were necessary.  Holding tightly to each other was the best
comfort the distraught young man could receive.

Several minutes later, David was able to control his sobbing.  He looked
into his partner's face and said, "Well.  I certainly screwed things up,
didn't I?"

"It's not your fault," Jonathan said soothingly.  "You shouldn't feel guilty.
You were just being you.  Expressing the love that you feel.  Your dad is
another matter.  I guess he was just being what he is.  A loving father
disappointed with what he regards as an unacceptable form of love.  And
reacting with emotions before thinking about the hatred in the words he
used.  I know how they hurt you.  But you can count on me to be at your
side forever."

The love-making that night consisted only of tender words of support and
abiding love while clinging to each other in a tight embrace.

In the morning, over breakfast, Jonathan said, "I'll be home late tonight.
Right after work, I'm going to talk to my parents.  I think it's better that
they learn about us from me rather than take the risk of your father telling
them.  Will you be all right today?  I should be home by nine or so."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Thanks for offering but if you ... or anyone else ... is present, it could
prevent my parents from expressing their real feelings.  Will you be okay
... at work today and in the early evening?"

"I'll be fine.  Well ... maybe not fine.  I'll be sad that Dad found out about
us the way he did.  And that he erupted in anger.  But two thoughts will
carry me through the day.  The first is that I know you'll come home and
we can get on with our lives together.   The second is that compared to the
clients we work with I'm a helluvalot luckier than they are.  That's two
things to be thankful for."

"Oh!" Jonathan said.  "Your dad was here because he wanted to deliver a
package that came to the house for you."  He retrieved the envelope and
handed it to David.

David opened it and said, "I'll be damned.  It's my wallet that I lost on
campus."  He inspected the contents.  "And everything is still in it ...
except for about ten dollars.  Of course it's useless now because I replaced
all the ID cards and driver's license.  In a way, I'm sorry it was found and
returned to me.  Otherwise, Dad would not have stopped by last night and
... you know."

"It was a bad break," Jonathan agreed.  "But done is done.  We can move
on.  Together!"

They kissed passionately before going their separate ways to work.

Just before nine that evening, Jonathan arrived back home.  The greeting,
hugs and kisses, were longer and more deeply moving than usual.  "So
how did it go with your parents?" David asked.

"Better than expected.  Both were surprised at the news although Mom
said she suspected there was more to our friendship than brotherly love.
She said she based her assumption on the way we looked at each other and
a few other subtle cues.  I guess it's true that women are more perceptive
of others' emotions than men.  Dad made it clear that he strongly
disapproved of gay relationships.  But, toward the end of our conversation,
he said something that made me feel good.  `I don't like it, Son.  But it's
your life to live.  If you're going to hook up with another guy, David is the
kind of guy I'd want you to be with.'  I cringed at the `hook up' part.  It
ignores the genuine love we have for each other.  But taken as a whole, his
words seemed to say that he accepted our relationship even though he
doesn't approve."

"You're very fortunate.  You saw how my Dad reacted."

"Maybe you should give him a little slack ... a little time to get over the
shock."

"That's pretty much what Mom said.  There was a message from her on
the answering machine when I got home. It just said, "Please call me
tonight.  I love you.  Mom."

"Did you call her?"

"After I spent some time psyching myself up for the call.  When I called,
she urged me to be patient with Dad ... that it would take some time to
adjust to the situation.  And she must have said a half dozen times that she
still loved me."

After nearly an hour's more discussion of what happened and where to go
from here, the two lovers went to bed.  There, they reaffirmed their love in
both words and actions.


Part Four

An Opening

Two months later Jonathan and David had just finished dinner when
Jonathan went on a quick errand to pick up a six-pack.  David got a phone
call from his mother.  "David, your father's birthday is Friday and we're
having a little celebration ... dinner out and a birthday cake at home later.
We'd like you and Jonathan to join us."

"Are you sure, Mom?  When Dad was here it was not a pleasant visit.
Since then he won't talk to me when I phone.  I'm afraid there would be
an argument that would spoil the celebration."

"I know it's a risk.  But your father has had some time to cool down.  He
still disapproves of your living with Jonathan but he doesn't rant about it
anymore.  Besides, Aunt Meg and Uncle Hank will be joining us.  Your
father wouldn't dare expose what he considers dirty laundry in front of
them.  So here's my thinking.  With the imposed neutrality, it may give
him a chance to see that you're still the son he loved and was proud of."

David thought there was very little chance that his Dad had calmed down
much if at all but reasoned that if there were any chance of reconciliation
it had to include some first steps.  Moreover, his mother was no doubt
acting as a facilitator by extending the invitation to dinner.  "Okay.  I'll be
there.  But you said the invitation was for both me and Jonathan?"

"Yes."

"That may not be a good idea.  Jonathan is not family ... at least to Dad.
His being there would be a constant reminder of our relationship.  And I'm
afraid that would put a serious damper on the celebration of his birthday."

"Perhaps you're right, Son.  I included him because—to me—he IS a
member of the family now.  Please let him know that.  And the two of you
decide whether he comes with you on Friday."

When Jonathan returned home, David recounted the telephone
conversation with emphasis on the fact that both of them were invited.
"That was very kind of your mother," Jonathan said.  "But I agree with
you that my presence would probably inflame your father's anger.
Moreover, it's a family gathering and I'm a member of your family only to
your mother."

"I've considered not even going myself.  I'm afraid my being there would
only upset Dad when he should be celebrating his birthday."

After a brief consideration of the potential, Jonathan said, "I think you
should go.  And here's my reasoning.  One.  Your mother obviously wants
you there.  Two.  You owe it to your dad to honor him on his birthday ...
to show that you still respect and love him.  Three.  Sooner or later your
father will have to acknowledge that he loves you in spite of his
disapproval of homosexuality.  I think the birthday celebration can be a
first step—and there's sure to be more steps—toward his acceptance of
our relationship.  And finally, if you don't go, it may very well reinforce
his alienation toward you."

"You're right, of course.  In fact, I've considered everything you
mentioned.  But I don't look forward to going.  It may only upset Dad
more and widen the gulf he's created between us."

"That's a possibility, I suppose.  But look on it as a chance to prove to him
that you're still the same person you were.  I recommend that you BE that
person—intelligent, charming, and a master of social skills.  Your mother
and your aunt and uncle will admire you for that.  Even your father will be
sure to notice.  That could do a lot to make a dent in his attitude ... to help
him reconsider his opinion of you.  In short, for what it's worth, I think it's
up to you to begin the process of reconciliation.  It's far more likely to
succeed if you take the lead because your dad won't."

"I'll go.  But I must admit I'm a little fearful that it will be a disaster."

"Maybe.  Maybe not, David.  But it's worth the effort.  If it doesn't turn
out the way you hoped, you're no worse off than you are now.  But if
there's a chance—however slim—of beginning to break through the
barrier of your dad's bigotry, it's worth trying."


Hazards Faced

David arrived at his parents' house ten minutes earlier than he was
expected.  His mother greeted him warmly.  His father scowled and said
nothing.  "Happy Birthday, Dad," David said cheerfully.

"Humph," the man grunted.

Ignoring his father's sullenness, David continued, "You know this is a
special birthday for you.  You're forty years old.  In Germany any
birthday ending in a zero is called a round birthday and it's an occasion for
special celebration."

"That so?" Mr. Andrews snorted with a distinct tone of sarcasm.  "Well,
I'm not German.  I'm American.  My values are different."  He glared at
his son, paused, and added, "And you know what I'm talking about."

Mrs. Andrews sensed the direction the conversation was going and
interjected, "Good to see you, Son.  You're looking well.  How's the new
job?"

Following his mother's lead, David replied, "Very well.  I've been able to
find a foster home for a lot of children.  You wouldn't believe the lives
they had before settling in to a safe environment.  It takes some of them a
while to feel comfortable in a new home because of their background ...
deprivation, cruelty, neglect ... but it's a good feeling to be a part of giving
them a more normal childhood."

"I thing that's wonderful," the woman gushed.  "Don't you agree,
Norman?"

"I s'pose so," the man mumbled and immediately left the room.

When her husband was out of earshot, Mrs. Andrews said, "Thank you for
coming, David.  I'm delighted to see you.  I just wish your father felt the
same way."

"I do, too.  And I'm sorry that he's not willing to accept who I really am.
But I think you'll understand when I say I've been extremely happy with
Jonathan.  We love each other and want to spend our lives together.  Dad
may think it's disgusting but I think it's beautiful to be deeply in love."

"I don't pretend to understand your attraction to each other.  I mean he's
an admirable young man ... but he's a man.  But this I know for sure.  I
love you and want the best for you.  If you're happy then I'm delighted."

"Thanks, Mom.  I love you, too.  And I love Dad even though...."

The doorbell interrupted the conversation.  "Oh," the woman said.
"That'll be Meg and Hank."  She left to open the front door.

The evening's dining and animated conversation passed without incident.
David's Aunt and Uncle made several inquiries about his work at the
social services agency and expressed their admiration for the good he was
doing for children in need of a home.  David's father participated in none
of that discussion but remained uncharacteristically silent.  At one point,
Meg turned to Mr. Andrews and said, "You must be very proud of your
son."

"Yes," the man replied but changed the subject of the conversation.

"I understand that you and your twin brother are sharing an apartment,"
Hank said.

"Yes," David replied.  "It considerably cuts down on the living expenses."

David's father immediately summoned the waiter for the dessert menu.
"I'm told they have a killer carrot cake here," he said, successfully
derailing what he feared would be further discussion of the relationship
between the two young men.  Only David and his mother recognized it as
a tactic to prevent what the man regarded as shameful information from
being revealed.

Mrs. Andrews reminded her husband, "We have a birthday cake at home.
We can have that for desert.  The man frowned.  "In that case," he said,
"I'll pay the tab and we can be on our way."

After half an hour at the Andrews' home for cake and coffee, David
excused himself and stood.  "It's a bit of a drive home so I think I ought to
be on my way."

His mother rose, crossed the room, and gave her son a short hug.  "Thanks
for coming.  I hope you come to visit often."

David recognized the underlying message—keep in contact, your father
will change his attitude.  "I will, Mom," he replied and then walked
toward his father who did not get up from his chair for a hug.  When
David said, "Happy Birthday, Dad," and extended his hand, the man
returned the gesture and shook his son's hand if only for appearances in
front of his brother and sister-in-law.  But, significantly, he said nothing.

Upon returning home, David told Jonathan of the evening's events and
concluded by saying, "I'm afraid Dad is locked into an opinion that is
resistant to any change.  His prejudice doesn't allow any contradicting
perspective.  It's as though—like Alice in Wonderland—he's fallen into a
rabbit hole and is lost in the Queen's Garden, cursing everything above
ground."

"Perhaps," Jonathan mused.  "But it's still possible that your aunt and
uncle's high regard for your achievements and your goal of helping others,
together with your mother's influence, will have an effect.  I think you
should be patient ... and continue trying to break the shackles that distort
his thinking.  I know it won't be easy.  I know it may take a long time.
And you should know that I'll support you in whatever you decide to do."

"Thanks, Luv.  I don't think I could manage without you."

They kissed.  It was late so they went to bed where they reaffirmed their
union by making love before falling asleep in a contented embrace.


Confessions

A short time later, the two Mrs. Andrews—Meg and her sister-in-law
Janice, David's mother— met for a shopping trip to the Mall and late
lunch afterwards in their favorite Italian restaurant.  After a delicious
meal, the restaurant was nearly empty but they lingered over a cocktail to
continue their lively conversation.  Meg commented, "That was a lovely
birthday party for Norman.  I thoroughly enjoyed hearing about David's
work at the Social Services Agency.  You must be very proud of him."

"I most certainly am," Janice gushed.  "And I'm very pleased that he
seems so happy in the job.  It came as a bit of a surprise when he took the
job.  He had never mentioned to us that he wanted to do that kind of work.
But the important thing is that he's happy."

"I've been wondering—you might even say worrying, Janice.  Norman
didn't seem to be himself during dinner or at home when we were
enjoying the birthday cake, which was delicious, by the way.  Was
something troubling Norman?  If it's none of my business, just say so."

Janice paused to consider how to answer Meg's question.  Was she willing
to explain the reason for her husband's sullenness?  "Why do you ask?
Norm is Norm.  He has his ups and downs."

"I understand that.  But it seemed like there was something strange about
his behavior.  Partictularly, his interactions with David.  They were very
few and ... well ... appeared to be forced and strained."

By this time, after a second cocktail, the usual social inhibitions of both
women had faded away.   Meg led up to her real question with another.
"David and Jonathan are not only twins but are good friends.  Is that
right?"

"Yes.  They hit it off together the moment they met."

"Very good friends?" Meg asked.

"That's right."

Meg leans toward her sister-in-law and asks quietly, "Are they gay?

Janice was shocked by the bluntness of the question.  She paused for
several seconds before nodding her head and answering, "Yes.  That's
what upset Norman at the birthday dinner.  And afterwards at home.  He
just can't accept it.  He tries to contain his distress but it obviously shows
if you noticed something."

"And how do you feel about it?"

"I can't honestly say I like it.  But he's still my son and I love him.
Moreover, since he's gay, I can't think of a better person than Jonathan for
him to be living with.  I'm quickly beginning to love Jonathan.  And quite
willing to accept him as part of the family."

Meg expected a denial and was stunned by Janice's candid and obviously
honest disclosure.  She sat back in her chair to absorb the news for a
moment before asking, "But Norm doesn't share your opinion of the
situation?"

"No.  He can't accept it.  He has this notion that homosexuality is
disgusting.  He refuses to talk to David.  Or even talk to me about our
son."

"For what it's worth, dear, I think that what's disgusting is his bigotry and
turning his back on his only son."

"Thank you for understanding, Meg.  Of course you realize that what I've
told you is confidential ... at least until the boys decide to reveal their
relationship."

"Of course!  But it's a shame that Norm isn't living in the twentieth
century.  For heaven's sake, it's 1970!  Not the Victorian age.  I'm just
glad Hank and I share the same attitude about sex."

"Oh?  And what's that?"

"Haven't your realized that after so many of our hints that we're
swingers?"

"Swingers?  Whatever do you mean?"

"All right.  You've been honest with me.  I can only return the favor.
Hank and I enjoy all kinds of sex.  With other people.  We go either
way—threesomes, foursomes, orgies with a half dozen like-minded
people.  I'm surprised you haven't recognized the hints that we've
dropped over the years."

"Doesn't that affect your marriage ... I mean do you still love each other?"

"More than ever.  We both look on our occasional escapades as nothing
more than recreation.  With no expectation of a long-term, emotional
consequences.  If anything, our extra-marital flings have taught us new
ways to satisfy each other in bed."

Without thinking, Janice replied almost absent-mindedly, "Norm could
benefit from learning a few more techniques."  Suddenly realizing what
she said, she added, "But of course he would NEVER consider doing what
you do.  For that matter, I'm not sure I would, either."

Reaching across the table, Meg placed her hand on Janice's, grinned, and
said, "If you ever change your mind, let me know.  There are married men
AND women who come alone to our parties."

Janice briefly considered the possibilities and replied, "Not likely.  But if I
do..."  She caught herself before finishing the sentence.

Meg smiled and said, "Any time, dear."

Janice could think of nothing else as she drove home.


Epilogue

Two old men sat on the shore of Mackinac Island, enjoying the sunset that
cast a golden glow on the natural scenery to match the glow each man felt
not only from the idyllic surroundings but from the pervasive satisfaction
of being together and the intensely rewarding feeling of loving and being
loved by his life partner.

Their conversation was sporadic with occasionally long pauses that were
completely comfortable silence.  After forty five years together, neither
felt the need to maintain an active conversation.  Or expected it from his
partner.  It was also fragmented.  An eavesdropper would often have
difficulty following the men's train of thought.  Again, this was because
each man knew his partner's thinking well enough to fill in the blanks.

"Look at that," said the first man.  "Just as breathtaking as when we first
saw it.  Some things never change."

"Indeed!" the second man replied.  "A few details perhaps.  But it's been
many years."

"That was a glorious time, wasn't it?"

"And followed by many more over the years."

"A few bumps on the road."

"Yes, but we overcame the difficulties.  Together!"

The men fell into a long silence, each recalling his life's many twists and
turns.  After several minutes of contemplation, the first man said, "I have
only one significant regret."

"I know."

"He was a good man.  But like all men he had a few flaws."

"You tried.  Too bad he never understood us."

"That final gesture of rejection was no surprise—bequeathing his entire
estate to his church.  I didn't need it.  That is, WE didn't need it.  All I
ever wanted was some expression of love.  Or just acceptance."

"He DID love you.  I think you know that."

"But he never SAID it."

"He couldn't.  It would endanger his core belief system."

"In the Queen's Garden."

"Exactly.  Lots of people live there."

"Like O'Toole.  It was wrong to fire you.  On fake charges.""

"I thought so.  But he hated queers.  It was a lucky break."

"You really excelled in your next job."

"As did you."

The men fell into a prolonged silence again.  Several minutes later, the
first man said, "The sun's gone.  It's chilly.  Wanna go back to the lodge?"

"Okay.  Know what else I want?"

"Of course."

Settling into bed, the two men repeated their first experience nearly five
decades before.  With three differences.  Their actions were driven less by
lust and by satisfying an unfulfilled yearning.  Their bodies did not
respond as quickly to stimulation.  But their coupling was more significant
because it was buttressed by enduring love.

"Thank you, David, for making my life a joy."

"And I thank you, Jonathan, for the same reason."

The end




Acknowledgement
Gerry Young contributed skillful editing and valuable ideas to this story.