Date: Fri, 7 Mar 2008 03:35:29 -1000
From: S turner <scotty.13411@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Fork in the Road," 14

FORK IN THE ROAD
By Scott Turner
Chapter 14

"If you come to a fork in the road, take it."
-Yogi Berra

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that occasionally contains rather
graphic depictions of sexual activity between consenting adult men.  If
that's not your cup of tea, or if it is illegal for you to possess or read
such material, then please go elsewhere.  This story is copyrighted, 2008,
and may not be reproduced, reposted or published without the expressed
permission of the author.



Scott had just hit `print' for the final draft of a group project in his
sociology class.  All he needed to do was pay for the pages at the desk,
have some copies made for the other three in his group, and then brave the
snow and wind on his trudge up the hill.

The woman behind the desk was a dowdy, mousy looking little thing whom he'd
never seen smile.  The semester was winding down, the holidays were
approaching and he was in a great mood.  He was suddenly on a mission to
get a grin out of her.  After collecting his printed pages, he handed her a
ten and asked her to break up some of the change into coins for the copy
machine.  She frowned but she obliged.

He beamed.  "Thank you very much.  And have a very Merry Christmas!"

She bit her cheek.  "Not necessary young man.  And please don't assume that
I worship or even recognize Christian superstitions."

"Sorry, ma'am.  Didn't mean to offend."  He noticed her wedding ring and
saw a couple of framed photos with her and two young children next to her
computer.  Glancing over his shoulder, he was happy to see that there were
no others waiting in line behind him.  "Must be a relief and save you a
bundle this time of year.  No gifts to hassle with, no travel or cooking
and all that hullabaloo to take up your time."

She handed him the change.  "Well we do buy presents and all that...well,
not that it's any of your business."

His eyes widened.  "And I can assume that if I come by at four p.m. on the
24th or nine a.m. on the 25th, you'll be here, right?"

She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips.  "Of course not.  We're
closed."

His eyes widened.  "Closed?  Why?"

Her look back at him said, `You frickin' moron!'  "The holidays of course."

Scott smirked.  "And I'm sure you've complained to the administration or to
the Regents about the flagrant celebration of Christian superstitions at a
public university, right?"

She said nothing.

Scott lightly slapped the desktop.  "We have to do something about this!"

She huffed.  "It's not up to me."

"But you haven't bitched to anyone the way you just did to me?"

Nothing.

He pocketed the change.  "Okay, then.  I'll just wish you a Merry
day-and-a-half off with pay.  I'm guessing you do celebrate that.  For me,
I'm going to have a very Merry Christmas, and I'll tell you again that I
hope you and your family will do the same."  He turned and strode to the
copy machine with a smile on his face.

About three hours later he was in the WSA office reading the itinerary for
an upcoming student government workshop in Chicago.  It was ironic.  On the
one hand, Scott wondered why anyone would schedule a conference in Chicago
in December.  On the other, it served his purposes rather well.  The phone
rang.  "Hey, Radar!  What's up?"

"Our friend Senator Lyman is on his way up."

Scott sighed and grinned.  "Well, a day without Elliot is like a day
without sunshine.  Thanks for the heads up.  Hey, have you had a chance to
look over the stuff from the Chicago conference?"  He was going to keep
Walter on the phone for a few minutes, just for fun.  Lyman appeared in the
doorway and Scott waved him in, pointing at a chair.

The clerk was enthused.  "Yeah!  Looks like some good stuff there, enough
to keep me out of trouble anyway."  Elliot was already shaking one foot
impatiently.

Scott worked to avoid a grin.  "I like the looks of the session on
upgrading and modernizing internal communications and the one on
inter-governmental relations."

The clerk snorted.  "That `cuz you want me to get better at contacting
folks whenever you want, and you want to schmooze with more people in high
places."

"You know me all too well, Radar.  I think it'll be fun and we'll bring
back a lot of stuff for the good of the cause."  Elliot was picking at his
nails now and looking around the room impatiently.  `Perfect,' Scott
thought.  "Well, Elliot's here.  I don't want to keep him cooling his
heels.  Better hang up and find out what's up."

Walter chuckled.  Yeah, right.  Whatever you say.  Okay, boss.  Later."
Scott hung up the phone.

"So, Elliot, what's up?"

Lyman slammed the announcement on Scott's desk.  "This is unacceptable."
Scott had re-scheduled the December meeting from the second week in
December to the third week, blaming the Chicago conference as the reason
for the change.

Scott looked up and stared at him.  "It was necessary.  The WSA president
AND its clerk will be in Chicago attending a national conference on
university's student governments.  Plus,k four or five of our Greek members
have notified me that they're attending a similar national conference in
the Twin Cities that week.  I thought it best to change the date."

"But that's finals week!  Who knows how many won't attend the WSA meeting
because of final exams?"

Scott shrugged.  "They've had ample notice.  I guess it all depends on how
important it is to them.  We're all free agents, Elliot with the power to
plan and choose.  But to try and hold a meeting the previous week would be
insane.

"You can't do this.  You know we won't have a quorum on the last day of
final exam week."

Scott leaned over and propped his elbows on the desk.  "Quite to the
contrary, Elliot.  I can do it and I have done it.  The president has the
unbridled power to schedule and reschedule meetings, both regular and
special ones.  In addition, he or she can set the agenda and manage the
discussion and debate.  The December meeting will be on the 20th, and I
hope to see you there.  Like you said, we need to have a quorum to get
anything done for the good young men and women of the UW.  Given that, your
attendance will be much appreciated."

"But my last final is on the 19th.  I was going to be back in Reedsburg by
the 20th."

Scott shrugged.  "Like I said, we're all free agents with choices to make.
Be there or don't.  It's your call.  But give my warmest wishes to your
family for a very happy holiday season whatever you decide" He wanted to
flip the spindly little weasel off with both hands, but resisted the
temptation.

Just as Elliot opened his mouth to speak the phone rang.  Scott was happy
for the interruption.  It would allow him to dis' Mr. Lyman a little more.
He held up a finger saying `hold that thought' and picked up the phone.
"Hello.  Scott Turner."

"You're fucking brilliant."  It was Sonja Weiss.

Scott smiled.  "Well not sure I'd go that far, but I have my moments."

Despite her outward masculinity, she was almost giddy.  "Just got the
notice of the date change."  She giggled.  "No way in hell we'll have a
quorum on the 20th."

Scott smiled.  "Well, we'll see.  Hey, let me call you back okay?  I have
somebody here in the office."  He looked up at the seething Elliot Lyman.
"Okay.  We're almost done here anyway.  Call you in a few, okay?"  He hung
up and leaned forward on the desk again.  "So, Elliot, the meeting date is
set.  We either will or will not have a quorum, and I can't affect that one
way or another."  He smiled and raised his brows in a question.  "Is there
anything else?"

Lyman shook his head and Scott stood.  "Well, then, I appreciate your
stopping by to express your concerns.  If it could get done another way,
I'd do it, but the original date was so very impractical."

Elliot stopped at the door and looked back.  "This is sleazy, Turner.  It's
just dirty."

Scott shrugged again.  "You'd be the one to know sleazy and dirty, Senator
Lyman.  It is what it is.  The meeting will convene on the evening of the
20th.  Have a good day."  Elliot stormed down the hall, down the stairway
and out the door.

Scott shook his head.  "Fuckwad," he muttered.  Then he smiled and sat back
down.  He borrowed from an old Mel Brooks movie.  "Some days it is good to
be king."  He picked up the phone and called Sonja back.  "Senator Weiss!
Glad you called."

"Great move, Mr. President.  There'll never be a quorum on the 20th."

"Weeellll...that remains to be seen.  The notice just went out yesterday.
Walter's going to tally the responses, and the only two I've heard from are
you and our good friend Elliot Lyman.  He was the one in my office when you
called, and he's having a hissy fit."

She snorted.  "Probably condemning you to Hell as we speak."

"Well, something tells me that his God and my God are not the same guy.
Maybe they'll have to toss a coin for my soul."  She laughed.  "Anyway, I
might need to call you in another week and have you make sure that four or
five of your folks stay home that night.  We need to be sure that the
attendance is fifteen or less."

"Well, I'm not gonna miss it, but I can locate that many who will stay away
if we need it"

"Okay.  Either I'll call you next week or Radar will give you a call with
the expected attendance, and you can make any necessary adjustments."

"Gotcha.  This is gonna work."

"But with no January meeting `cuz of the winter break, we're gonna have to
be ready to act on this once and for all by February.  You gotta have
sixteen votes in line by then."

"Not to worry, Scott.  We'll have them."

Scott chuckled.  "You go girl.  I gotta get to class."

"Later then.  Have a good one."

"You too.  Buh bye."

He hung up and grinned.  "Yes, it is good to be king."



It made the front page of practically every daily newspaper in the state,
and would hit the small town weekly editions in the next several days.
Brown County, the home of Greens Bay, was building a new courthouse.  This
was made possible in large part by the expert legislative maneuvering of
Senator Cletus VanderHoeffel.  "Concrete Clete," as he was affectionately
known, was quite a character.  He never met a road or building project he
didn't like, especially if it was in his home district.  The man was a
legend due to his phenomenal ability to bring the pork home to Green Bay
and the surrounding area.

So, naturally, the good senator was in the front ranks of local, county and
state dignitaries that afternoon when they laid the cornerstone of the new
Brown County Justice Center.  He was beaming as he pressed the flesh in the
crowd.  It was a clear, not too cold December day and Clete reminded the
folks that this was sort of his Christmas present for the good people of
Brown County.  As the officials stood near the construction fence, a huge
crane lifted the one-ton block and the time capsule embedded within it, and
slowly swung it above the crowd to align it with the target spot below.
Everybody looked up, shielding their eyes from the afternoon sun.

And then it happened.  For reasons that would be investigated and litigated
for the better part of the next two years, the chain that cradled the
massive stone snapped.  People gasped, some screamed, and poor old Clete
just wasn't quick enough.  It was a gruesome sight.  VanderHoeffel's blood
and bones spread out several feet all the way around the stone and his
crushed body.

Scott was saddened as he read the article.  He had genuinely liked the
jovial old guy.  Still, he couldn't help thinking that it was wildly
ironic.  `The poor gentleman made a political career out of paQXvement,
bricks and mortar.  I s'pose if it was his time to go, it might as well be
under a huge chunk of marble paid for by the good people of the State of
Wisconsin.'  He immediately felt a pang of guilt from such a callous
thought.

He left the apartment early so that he could drop by Maureen's office.  Her
secretary wasn't in yet, but her office door was open.  He rapped on the
door and peeked in.  Maureen was just hanging up the phone and she waved
him in as she wiped her eyes.

Scott put his hands in his pockets.  "Tough news about Senator
VanderHoeffel."

Maureen blew her nose and nodded.  "That was his wife I was just talking
to.  She's just devastated."

"I'll bet.  What a shocker.  I didn't know him all that well, but he seemed
like a sincere, good-hearted guy."  Maureen wiped her nose again and
nodded.  Scott sat down and crossed his legs.  "I don't mean to be crass or
insensitive, but how do things like this play out around here?  What
happens now?"

Maureen cleared her throat and pulled herself together.  "Well, Governor
Hackett will order flags at half staff, probably for the rest of the week.
We'll pass a proclamation honoring all the hard work that Clete did for the
people of Brown County and of Wisconsin, and then we'll get through the
funeral."

"And what about the vacancy?"

"Well, with something so sudden like this it depends on the timing.  Other
than the budget we'll haggle over this spring, we won't have a lot going on
until the new legislature is convened next January.  And with a stronger
majority now there's no political reason to schedule a special election.
We can manage the budget issues even with one seat vacant if need be.  But
that'll be up to Ted Hackett.  I'll advise him to leave it open and
schedule an election for the regular spring Election Day in April.
Municipal offices, school boards, county supervisors and judges are already
scheduled for spring elections.  You get a better turn out than if you
schedule `a special' in the middle of winter in Wisconsin.  Plus, there's
no additional cost to the state.  They just add another few names to the
ballot.  And that would still give any interested candidates enough time to
mount meaningful campaigns."

Scott nodded.  "Any idea who might replace the good senator?"  He was stung
by another twinge of guilt with all these questions about a replacement
when the man hadn't been dead for much more than 36 hours.

She rolled her eyes.  "Tough to say.  It's a real swing district.  Might be
hard to hang onto."  She scoffed.  "I'm sure Senator Frick is already
working on a short list to recruit.  He and Clete never got along all that
well anyway.  So, I doubt he's crying in his coffee this morning."  She
glanced up.  "And that's not to be repeated."

Scott smirked.  "C'mon Maureen, Senator Frick doesn't really `get along'
with anybody.  He tolerates other lesser mortals and wants us all to be
afraid of him."

She just shook her head and sighed.  "Such a tragedy."

He nodded as he stood and reached down to pat her hand.  "Well, I'm sorry
for your loss.  Let me know if you need a shoulder to cry on.  I'd better
get downstairs.  I'm sure the place will be abuzz this morning."

She forced a smile.  "Thank you, Scotty.  You're such a dear."

"Take care now.  I'll see you later."  He quietly made his exit.



The December WSA meeting lasted all of ten minutes, just as Scott had
hoped.  Radar called the roll and then turned to address the chair.
"Mr. President, only fifteen of thirty-one members have answered `present.'
I'm afraid we lack a quorum."

Scott looked disappointed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I appreciate your making
the time to be here tonight.  Unfortunately, lacking a quorum, there's
really nothing we can do here. As you know, with the winter break upon us,
there will be no meeting in January.  This body will assemble again the
second week of February.  So I guess all there is to do is to wish you all
happy holidays and entertain a motion to adjourn."

Sonja was on her feet.  "Move to adjourn, Mr. President."

It's been moved that we adjourn until the second week in February.  Is
there a second?"

A voice from the back of the room shouted "Second!"  Walter knew the voice
and continued typing for the record.

Scott went on.  "Moved and seconded for adjournment.  All those in favor?"
Fourteen voices muttered `Aye."  "Those opposed?  Elliot Lyman bellowed
"Nay!"

The gavel went down hard.  "Whack!"  Scott looked at Elliot.  "Motion to
adjourn passes."  As he walked toward the door, he mumbled out of the
corner of his mouth, "too bad you had to delay the trip home, Elliot, all
for naught."

Elliot scowled.  "You're in a hurry to leave.  Have some sheep waiting for
you at home?"

Scott flashed a broad smile.  "And a very Merry Christmas to you too my
brother.  May the blessings of Jesus Christ be abundant to you and yours."
He then turned and left the room.



Scott and his mom were working together wrapping presents at the dining
room table when the phone rang.  Suzanne was closest so she put down the
tape and took a couple steps to grab the phone.  "Hello?"  She
laughed. "And a Merry Christmas to you too, Marty!"  Scott smiled and
continued to make the right folds and tape them down while his mom chatted
with his buddy.  "How are you dear?  Oh, that's wonderful news!  I'm so
happy for all of you!"

Scott paid attention to her end of the conversation; happy to hear his
mom's reactions to whatever Marty was telling her.  He recalled Marty
coming up from Rockford over the previous year's break and getting drunk at
the nursing home with his grandmother, Evelyn.  Evelyn had liked Marty.
Everybody liked Marty.  He put a bow and a label on the wrapped package and
set it with the rest of them.

Suzanne shook her head.  "No, dear.  We're going to my brother's house for
a bit, but it will otherwise be a fairly quiet, lazy day around here."  She
listened for another few seconds and giggled.  "Okay, dear.  He's right
here.  You enjoy the holidays and our best to Jill and the kids."  She
hesitated.  "Well thank you.  Here he is."  She was still smiling when she
handed Scott the phone.

"Ho ho ho!  What's up buddy?"

"Aw, shit, Scotty.  Things are friggin' great!  Jill had to go through
another one of those sadistic marrow biopsies the other day, but she's
showing cancer free right now!"

"No shit?"  There was an immediate lump in this throat.

"No shit, bud!  We're not out of the woods by any stretch.  She needs to
stay this way for a lot longer, and she ain't a hundred percent, but she's
feeling a lot better.  She even took Ashley down to the Y to let her go
swimming.  A month ago, that wouldn't have been imaginable.  I'm hunkered
down here with little Scotty for the day."

"How's the lad?"

"Mostly the same...eat, sleep, poop, but he's jabbering a lot more and
getting bigger every day.  Of course, everybody's going to spoil him rotten
next week, but he won't even know it.  In a lot of ways gifts are wasted on
newborns and toddlers."

Scott smiled.  "Well I mailed mine this morning.  Hope they all fit."
Scott had sent a pair of Green Bay Packer jammies, a Badger jersey and a
little baby's foam cheesehead.  He was pretty sure the boy would hate
having the wedge of cheese on his head, but hoped for a picture anyway.
"But that's great about Jill!"

"And there's a little more.  She's feeling well enough to travel.  Right
after Christmas a bunch of her girlfriends want to take her up to Chicago
for a couple days of shopping the sales and doing God knows what.  And her
folks want to take the kids up to Wisconsin Dells to an indoor water park
resort kind of place.  Ashley's beside herself on the idea.  Thinks she's
gonna teach Lil' Scotty how to swim.  So, I'm going to be bacheloring it
for a few days.  Thinking about a quick road trip up to Mad Town."

Scott nodded and grinned.  "Great timing.  We part-timers at the Capitol
are on optional status during the break.  But I was gonna come down anyway
and do a little work for the WSA, and maybe put in a few hours with the
caucus."  He thought about the card taped to his computer screen.  "Let's
plan on meeting at the apartment on the 27th.  We can have a few cocktails
and then head over to The Avenue and pig out.  Then I'll whoop your ass in
backgammon."

"In your dreams, professor.  Well, the little one calls, so I'd better run.
He's got me wrapped around any one of his tiny little fingers and he knows
it."

"Well, you can't keep my boy waiting.  Get on it.  Call my cell on the 26th
or during the day on the 27th and we'll nail down times and places and all
that crap."

"No prob.  I still have a key to the apartment, so if you'll be out and
about, I'll just make myself at home."

"Sounds like a plan.  Talk to ya' later."  He shut off the cordless,
returned it to the cradle and went back into the dining room.

Suzanne looked up.  "Sounds like things are going pretty well at The
Andersons."

Scott smiled and dug his hands into his pockets.  "Yeah, really good!
Marty's on top of the world.  It's about time."

Suzanne grinned again and nodded.  "What a wonderful Christmas present for
them."

"No kidding!  Now Jill just needs to stay this way.  From what I've read,
that beast could still return.  Something about her age and this kind of
leukemia that makes it really hard to treat or cure."  He sighed and
thought about it for a minute, then thought again about the coming meeting
in Madison with Marty.  "Hey, mom.  I need to fire off an e-mail.  I'll be
back in a couple of minutes to help you finish up."  Suzanne just nodded
and waved him away.

He bounced up the stairs to his room.  The computer was already up and
running.  He dug around in his book bag and found his little personal
directory.  "Let's see now."  He was grinning.  "Did I enter that under
`Kip' or `Monmouth?'  He giggled.  "Marty's going to freak."



A week later, Scott and Marty walked in the back door of The Avenue a
little after seven.  As usual the place was packed.  They both had a mild
buzz on already from the cocktails Scott had prepared while they were at
the apartment.  Scott tapped Marty on the shoulder.  "I gotta pee.  You're
legal and I'm not.  You go to the bar and order a couple of drinks.  I'll
tap the bladder and get our name in for a table."

Marty flashed a thumbs up. "Gotcha.  Catch you back by the bar in a few."
Scott hit the men's room, then the hostess's desk and ambled back toward
the bar, suppressing a grin.  Marty handed him a drink.  They tapped
glasses together and sipped in unison.  Scott looked just above his buddy's
eyebrows and forehead.  "Good to have the hair coming back?"

Marty shrugged.  "I was gonna keep buzzing it off, but Jill doesn't want me
running around this time of year with a naked head.  So, it's cool."  He
rubbed the short brown hair on his scalp.  "Takes a bit of getting used to,
and it was a hell of a lot easier in the morning.  Used to `wash my hair'
with some soap, a washcloth and then dry off the noggin.  Done."

Scott winked.  "I like you better with a pelt on top.  If you want, though,
we can shave your ass when we get back to the apartment."

A minute later one of the waitresses, Allison by her nametag, came up to
them.  "If you gentlemen would follow me?"

Marty's eyes widened.  "That fast?  You must know somebody here Scotty."

Allison smiled.  "Actually, your friends got here about twenty minutes ago.
They're waiting at the table.  Just follow me."

Scott fell in line and Marty swatted his shoulder.  "Our friends?"

Scott waved him off.  "Just relax.  You're about to shit in your pants."

As they exited the short hallway into the large and busy dining room Kip
stood up and waved.  Glenn stood up as well.  Marty stopped in his tracks.
"Holy good God damned shit!  Kip fucking Monmouth!"  He looked down at a
young, scowling mother and her two little kids.  "Sorry ma'am.  I have
Tourette's syndrome.  Can't stop it sometimes."  He looked at the kids.
"You two know you shouldn't talk like that right?  That is, if you can help
it?  It's wrong."  The mother looked unconvinced.  The kids just giggled.
Marty caught up with Scott about halfway across the dining room floor.
"You S.O.B.!"

Scott looked over his shoulder.  "Surprised?  I figured it was about time I
threw a curve ball your way for once.  Now, be nice."

"Gotta admit, Kip's looking good.  Who's the hottie with him?"

"His partner, Glenn.  He's from Melbourne.  Met him once.  Seems like a
nice guy."

Kip's hand was out before they reached the table.  Scott grabbed it and
reached with his left to squeeze Kip's upper arm in a manly sort-of half
hug. `Damn,' he thought, `the guy's been working out."

As they greeted each other, Marty stuck out his hand to the stranger.  "Hi.
I'm Marty.  Marty Anderson."

Glenn's smile was wide and very engaging.  "Aha!  Kipper's talked about
you.  You're the one who..."

Kip cut him off.  "If it was bad or painful or just plain annoying, then
he's probably the one.  Bane of my existence my last two years here."  Kip
smiled and stuck out a hand.  "How the hell are you, Anderson?"

Marty took the hand.  "I am well, my good man.  Very well indeed."  They
took their seats as he continued.  "I have a wonderful wife, a beautiful
step-daughter and a newbord son who is living large right now down in
Rockford."

They sat.  Kip sipped his drink.  "Married?  Really!"  He waved a finger
across the table at both of them.  "I came to think that the two of you
were...well...that you were..."

Marty waved him off and he chuckled.  "Stranger things have happened,
Kipper.  I ain't saying yes, I ain't saying no.  Neither, I think, is
Scotty, but that's up to him.  Think what you want."  He put a hand on
Scott's forearm.  "We're still best buds.  Brothers from another mother,
him and me.  Thick as thieves."  Kip just smiled and nodded.

Scott chimed in.  "So Kip, Melbourne University, huh?"

Kip offered up the plate of chicken wings they'd ordered as an appetizer.
Both Scott and Marty plopped three wings on their plates.  Kip nodded
enthusiastically.  "Beautiful place.  Oldest and most prestigious
university in Victoria.  Great MBA program.  Outstanding public
transportation, so we can get by with just one car.  He laid his hand on
Glenn's, on top of the table, and squeezed.  Glenn blushed a bit.  "We're
living large ourselves."

Marty looked at the Aussie visitor.  "And what about you, Glenn?  Still in
school?"

Glenn chewed and swallowed the bit of chicken wing he'd been munching on
and nodded.  "Yeah.  In my last year before I get the degree and teaching
credentials.  Hope to land a job in a classroom next year."

Scott nodded.  "Teaching what?"

Kip cut Glenn off.  "The happy bastard can teach anything.  He's a real
Renaissance man.  History, Geography, Geology, Math, Computers...you name
it.  There's nothing he isn't curious about and very little that he can't
master."

Glenn blushed.  "You're too kind, love."

Gwen, who had waited on Scott before at The Avenue, came by to take their
orders.  Scott and Marty both opted for the red meat, top sirloins.  The
guys from down under went for the fish.  Glenn opted for lake perch and Kip
for the cod filet, a poor man's lobster with plenty of lemon and butter.

Scott took a drink of water and looked across the table.  "Good Christmas
you guys?"

Kip grinned and rolled his eyes.  "Un-fucking-real!  Glenn's dad's family
was all there.  More like a tribe, actually.  Had to be, what?"  He looked
at Glenn, "about seventy people there?"

Glenn grinned.  "Yeah, that'd be about roit."

Kip grinned.  "I love it what he says `roit.'  Dontcha just love that
accent?"  He laughed and continued.  "Of course they all took a shining to
me right away.  Obviously a clan of outstanding judgment."  Scott and Marty
exchanged glances, seemingly reading each other's minds.  `Who is this guy
and what has he done with Kip Monmouth?  The guy who was just about the
coldest prick on the planet is now just plain giddy!'

Glenn snorted and swatted Kip's arm.  "Treated him like some damned prince,
they did.  At times, it was like I wasn't even there."

Kip snickered and sipped his water, then looked back at Scott.  "Seen Kelly
lately?  How's she doing?"




Scott coughed.  "Uhm, haven't seen her in about a month, but it looks like
she's doing great. I'll probably see more of her this summer.  She's
planning to live with her Aunt Maureen a lot of the time while she works on
Maureen's and my dad's campaigns."

Kip's face questioned.  "Your dad's campaign?"

Scott nodded.  "Maureen McCarthy is running for Attorney General, and my
old man is running for her seat.  He has her support, so I'd guess that
makes him the leading candidate to replace her."

Kip's face lit up.  "Good for him, and for you."  He took a drink and
motioned to Gwen for another round.  "We're going back to Brookfield
tomorrow and staying `til just after the New Year.  I wouldn't be surprised
if we ran into Kelly.  She and I went to different high schools, but pretty
much traveled in the same crowd in that area of the Milwaukee `burbs.  A
couple of small reunions are on the agenda this week, so I'll bet we run
into her.  I'd like Glenn to meet her."

Glenn scoffed.  "Gimme a glimpse of what you used to sniff after around
here, ay?"

Marty couldn't resist.  "Don't kid yourself, Glenn.  Ol' Kipper here used
to sniff around a lot more than Kelly."

Kip kicked him under the table and Glenn laughed.  "I know, I know.  Don't
think there's much he hasn't told me about the good old days at the UW.  He
can go on, and on, and on, and..." Kip swatted his arm.

They joked and laughed about the `bad and the good old days' when Scott and
Kip were at each other's throats.  Kip blushed more than once, even though
Glenn had heard his version of all of it at least once.  The four of them
shared two desserts, cheesecake and an enormous slab of apple crisp and
they sipped strong coffee.  At Kip's request, Scott filled him in on
current goings on within the WSA.

Scott launched into a twenty-minute diatribe.  "Jesus!" Kip said as he
slowly chewed on a bit of cheesecake.  "Sounds like this Lyman guy's a
bigger pain in the ass than I ever was."

Scott smirked.  "Wouldn't have thought it possible.  But, yeah, he is.  And
he plays hardball.  I'm being raked across the coals by `The Herald' and am
being greeted by protesters outside the office.  It's a fucking zoo."  Then
he smiled.  "But I got his goat when I rescheduled this month's meeting."

Kip grinned.  "Better you than me, buddy."

Marty shrugged.  "Besides, Scotty.  It's not like he's really playing
dirty.  Free press.  Free speech and all that good stuff.  C'mon, it's not
like slashing tires or anything."  He winked at Kip and Scott shot him an
elbow before changing the subject.  He swallowed a forkful of the apple
crisp and sipped his coffee.  "So, good to be back, Kip?"

Kip's eyes lit up.  "In Madison?  Are you kidding me?  I love it here!
Freezing my ass off, but yeah it's great being back."  He paused and
thought.  "My dad's clearly on edge, and I had to enlist big bro' in
bringing the old boy around to play nice with me and Glenn.  Not hard to do
these days when I remind dear old Chas of a certain disk full of pictures I
have."  He looked at Marty.  "Scott knows this already, but me and Glenn
and Chas had a bit of a party one night, Glenn's a techno-weenie, and we
got Chas in all his glory."  He snickered.  "Took a page out of your
playbook, Anderson, and I still have Chas by the balls."  Kip had a series
of very compromising pictures including his pitiful lawyer brother, himself
and Glenn.  It had been a pretty good time and the pics had paid off big
time.  "I'm guessing you'd understand, Marty."

Marty laughed and slapped the table, then raised his coffee cup. "I believe
I would understand completely."  Then he pointed at Kip.  "Don't say I
never taught you anything!"  Marty had played the same blackmail game with
Kip twice the previous year.  At one point it had caused a serious strain
in his friendship with Scott, but they'd worked though it.  His smile faded
into an inquisitive look.  "So, you really came out to your folks?"

Kip's smile was wistful.  "Well, first I had to come out to myself.  Then I
realized that if I was ever going to be fully comfortable in my own skin, I
had to stop hiding."  He put his hand on Glenn's forearm.  "Glenn helped a
lot.  But the reason for hiding was the irrational fear that somebody could
hurt me if they find out the truth.  When you come out and admit who you
are, you've disarmed them.  They can't hurt me now."  He drained his coffee
cup.  "Don't get me wrong, it's not like some folks don't try with hurtful
words and shit like that.  But I just consider the primitive and ignorant
source of the comments and move on living my life.  It's really very
liberating."

The plates were empty.  Kip leaned back and stretched, rubbing his tummy.
His sweater wrapped his torso just right.  He looked fantastic.  Both Marty
and Scott judged Glenn a lucky guy.  "Well, gentlemen, we're going to get
up early tomorrow.  Weather's supposed to be nice, so I'm going to show
Glenn the Arboretum with a bit of a hike before heading back to my folks'
place."  They split the bill four ways with a very nice tip for Gwen and
then headed for the back door.

The two pairs of guys exchanged handshakes and hugs in the back lot, said
their good byes and split up to head for their vehicles.  They'd taken
Marty's car, so he drove.  After both he and Scott slammed their doors he
started giggling.  "Never, ever, not in a million years would I have
thought that that would ever have been possible!"  He looked at Scott.
"You, sir, are a fucking miracle worker.  Me having dinner with Christopher
Ulysses Monmouth."  He started the car.  "I think this is one of the signs
of the Apocalypse, you know."

Scott grinned in satisfaction.  "Nah.  You and the Almighty aren't that
close.  Besides, Kip's really not a bad guy these days, ya' know?  He was a
son of a bitch of the highest class once, but he's not anymore.  Didn't you
get the sense of satisfaction and serenity he was throwing out?"

Marty nodded.  "In a big way.  That was there in spades.  And I guess
you're right.  He's not the motherfucker I always wanted to believe he was.
Not anymore anyway.  Who'da thunk it?""

"Like I said, Marty, he was.  But we're all evolving all the time.  Each of
us is a work in progress.  I don't think it ever stops."

Marty just nodded as they parked the car.  They hiked down the sidewalk for
a half a block to the apartment. Scott said, "Let's see, when we get up
there you can either take the dog out for a pee, set up the backgammon
board or make a couple of drinks.  Your call."

Marty laughed.  "Brett told me you can only call him `The Dog.'

"That's what he is.  He's a dog.  He's an adorable dog with an obscene
name."

"Brett does have a point.  I think it's kind of funny.  `Mr. Free Speech'
is all bent out of shape `cuz of a dog's name.  There's a bar up in
Wisconsin Dells called `Nig's.'  It's a lilly-white community that fills up
with lilly-white tourists and Nig's is a local landmark.  I have one of
their t-shirts.  `Have a Swig with Nig.' Nothing racial about it."

"I know. I've been there with Big Scott.  And the dog's name isn't `Nig.'
Brett's just being a smart ass, as usual, which is one of the reasons I
love the guy, but the dog's name is just beyond the pale.  I just can't say
it."

The dog met them at the top of the stairs.  His tail was thumping and his
eyes begged, `I gotta to go out!  Now!'

Marty grabbed onto collar.  "Come on boy.  Uncle Scott's gonna feed you and
the fattest cat, then make us a couple of drinks and set up the backgammon
board so that I can give him a lesson."  He led the dog down the back
stairs.

Marty rolled a six to win the start of the game.  Scott grabbed the remote
and turned on the TV.  After hitting several lame sit-coms and a couple of
movies in which things were being blown up or people were being hacked to
death he paused.  "Oh, shit!  I forgot this was on here tonight.  It was
"The Wizard of Oz."  "I love this fucking movie!"

The evil Mrs. Gulch was dumping poor little Toto into her picnic basket,
and Auntie Em' was about to give the old hag a piece of her mind.  Marty
rolled his eyes.  "Jesus Christ.  Here we go."

"Dude!  Best cast ever!  Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, Bert Lahr, and the
beautiful Judy Garland."

"Yeah, for starters."  Marty rolled the dice and moved his tiles.  "And
don't get going on me Mr. Trivia. I already know, thanks to you, that
Margaret Hamilton, the wicked witch, was the only one in the cast that
treated Judy Garland with any civility, and that Buddy Ebsen was originally
cast as the Tin Man, but that the silver makeup almost killed him.  You're
a fucking `Wizard of Oz' encyclopedia."

The house had landed on the wicked witch's sister, Glenda to Good Witch had
come and gone, and Scott was humming and mumbling along with three `little
people."  "We represent the Lollipop Guild, the Lollipop Guild, the
Lollipop Guild."

They were into their third drink after dinner and finishing a third game of
backgammon. Ray Bolger had sung "If I Only Had a Brain" and fallen on his
ass.  Jack Haley had squeaked his way through "If I Only Had a Heart" and
now Bert Lahr was growling through "If I Only Had the Nerve."  Marty
finished the game in a rout and grabbed Scott's wrist, and then began to
sing to the same melody, although not very well.

"If we kept it just between us I would gladly suck your penis And take it
in the can."

Scott choked on his last sip of his drink.  Marty wiggled his brows.

"You can bend me fully over You can even call me Rover `Cuz I need some man
to man."

Marty stood up and pulled him toward the hallway, reaching to shut off the
lamp on his way.  He did a foolish little jig as he led Scott to the
bedroom, and continued singing as he danced,

"I will tell you you're Adonis Since our lust if full upon us And you know
that I'm a fan I can tell from your bulging That you're ready for indulging
And I need some man to man."

Scott roared.  The fattest cat in the world ran under the bed.

Oh, IIIIIIIIIIIIII Won't wonder why My thighs and glutes are sore It's cuz
I really was Begging for this He grabbed Scott's tool through his khakis
And then some mooooooore

They got to the bedroom and Marty closed the door.  Scott was still
snickering and marveling as Marty unbuttoned his shirt.  He was about to
speak, but his buddy continued.

"You will lick me and you'll suck me And then you'll fully fuck me
Completely as you can."

He grabbed Scott's biceps and pulled him close, and then kissed him hard
before finishing.

"You'll forgive my helpless moaning While I love your sweaty groaning `Cuz
I need some man to man."

The cat ran to the closed door and looked completely panicked.  Marty
giggled and cracked the door open for the fattest cat to waddle out, and
then he shut it again.  Scott cackled while Marty worked on his belt
buckle.  "My god, you're such a manipulative slut.  You spent all day
thinking that up,"

"Nope.  And that doesn't rhyme professor.  `Slut' and `up' don't quite
rhyme.  Try to keep up with me, will you?  And I just made it up on the
spot.  I oughta be doing improv."

"Your whole life has been improv."

Marty leered.  "Let's see what else I can make up to surprise you."  He
pushed Scott back on the bed.




Scott stirred because of the sudden sound of a door closing in the
distance.  Then he smelled coffee and heard soft footsteps.  He squinted at
the visage of Marty returning to the bedroom wearing his robe.  "Jesus,
nobody around here ever wakes up before I do."

Marty grinned and shrugged.  "Have a baby and you'll learn what it is to be
a morning person."  Then he added, "And a 1 a.m. person and a 2 a.m. person
and a 3 a.m. person..."

Scott yawned and sat up.  "Gotcha."

Marty sat on the edge of the bed and patted Scott's thigh.  "Both of the
beasts have been fed, the dog has dutifully peed, the cat is cleaning his
face and the coffee's on."

Scott rubbed his eyes.  "Oh, that was what I heard, the back door closing
when you let the dog in."  He was nearly awake now.  "Damn, you can come
and visit any time you want."

Marty scooted up the bed and leaned against the headboard on top of the
comforter.  "Dude, I know I can come and visit when I want.  I have a key,
remember?"

Scott's cell phone went off and Marty got up to grab it off the desk.
Scott looked at the clock.  "Who the hell is calling at eight in the
morning on a Saturday?"

Marty looked at the screen and grinned.  "It's Greg."  He tossed Scott the
phone and said, "I'll go get the coffee."  He lingered in the kitchen for a
few extra minutes, scratching the dog's ears, trying to give Scott some
time on the phone.

When he returned with two mugs, Scott was frowning and nodding.  "Greg,
relax.  It's no big deal.  Just e-mail the address and any directions I
might need, and I'll be there.  It'll be fun.  I'm really looking forward
to it."  He paused and took the mug from Marty.  "Good enough.  Sounds like
a plan.  Take it easy, okay?  I'll see you then, but I really have to go.
I'll call on Monday when I'm getting close.  Bye."

Marty sat back down on the bed and leaned back.  "Cabin plans?  Didn't you
say you were making a trip up to the north woods this coming week?"

Scott slurped his coffee and nodded.  "Yeah, Monday `til Thursday.  The
original plan was for Greg to borrow his brother's car for a few days and
we were going to meet at the cabin.  He called to say Jesse was suddenly
being a prick...again...and had changed his mind about the car.  So, I'm
going to drive up to his dad's place and pick him up.  The cabin's a little
over an hour from there, I guess."

There was a full minute of silence, and then Scott cleared his throat.
"Okay, Mr. Special Advisor.  Advise me.  Just what the hell are we doing
here?"

Marty smiled a soft smile and wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulder.
Scott accepted the embrace by leaning into it.  "Oh, shit, Scotty.  I don't
know.  I try not to think about it and just give into certain pleasures of
mine from time to time," he tapped Scott's chin, "and some of yours too."
He looked down and squeezed Scott's shoulder with his arm. "But I take it
you are thinking about it?"

Scott pursed his lips and nodded.  "I have to.  I'm hanging with Greg
whenever I can, but don't really know where that's headed."  He sighed and
looked up.  "And you...well, you're..."

Marty squeezed him again.  "And I'm a married man with two loving children
and you're worried that you're aiding and abetting my infidelity."

Scott nodded quietly and a smile slowly crawled across his lips.  "Well,
when you sing and dance for me, how can I not?"

Marty slid down a little further so that their eyes were at the same level.
"Scotty, I've thought about it too.  I love Jill with all my heart.  If
it's possible, I might even love the kids a little bit more, but I doubt
it.  They're what I work for, what I live for.  It's not that I don't love
you too, but it's not the same thing."

He took a breath and scratched his chin.  "But like I said, I've thought
about it. I'm absolutely convinced that our friendship would be just as
solid even if we kept our clothes on all the time."  Then he frowned
slightly.  "A lot of people would condemn me to Hell for this, but I've
become comfortable with the notion that the time we spent bumping and
grinding last night was just another wonderfully comfortable expression of
our friendship.  I don't believe it really compromises or undermines my
devotion to my family."  He winked.  "I mean, ya' know I love ya', but I'm
not going to leave my wife and kids for you."  Scott smiled and Marty
rapped the back of his hand.  "I mean, you're good, but you're not that
good."  Then he set his coffee mug on the bed stand and half turned onto
his side.  "And then there's you and Greg...?"

"Yeah.  I just don't know..."

Marty took Scott's hand.  "Professor, you remember the first time we `did
it?'

Scott looked at the ceiling.  "How could I forget?"

"But we hardly knew each other at the time.  The physical stuff between us
was born out of selfish, horny, lusty pleasure seeking.  And it was spur of
the moment."

Scott chuckled.  "You practically raped me."

Marty tossed him a `fuck you' glance and gazed into his eyes.  "But, Scott,
the friendship emerged and grew later, and I have no doubt that it would
have happened if we'd never had sex."  He shrugged.  "I'm lucky to have you
with or without the sex.  You're lucky to have me with or without the sex."
He wiggled his brows.  "But I'll always prefer it with the sex."  They both
laughed and nodded again before Marty sighed once more.  "I guess that's
going to have to be up to you, if or when you ever decide what's up with
Greg.  As for me and Jill and the kids, it's all good with me.

"You've got two issues, professor.  One is you and me, and I'm trying to
put that to rest.  The other is you and Greg, and I can't put that to rest.
If you're wondering how I figure into your other situation, and I think you
are, then you're on your own.  For about the first time since we've known
each other, I'm not going to pretend to advise you on that one.  I can live
with any way you decide to handle it."  He patted Scott's thigh again.
"We're always going to be best friends.  You're not going to be rid of me."
He chuckled softly.  "You'd never survive."



Author's Note: This was a fun chapter to write.  I really enjoyed bringing
Kip and Glenn back.  If you haven't read "Strange Bedfellows," then you're
out of the loop on those two.  Kip was the bad guy in most of that first
installment of this ongoing story.  Some of you who've written expressed an
attraction for him, so I thought I'd toss him back into the mix just for
fun.

I'll thank Kory, Scott and Peter for their feedback and proof reading.  You
guys are invaluable.  I wish I'd had your assistance from the beginning.  I
still appreciate the feedback so many of you provide.  Many, many thanks to
all of you who are taking to time to read and write back.  I hope you're
being just as generous with the other authors you are enjoying.

FYI--92" of snow so far in Madison, for those of you who keep asking.  More
than twice what they've had in Mpls/St. Paul, smashing the old record of
just under 80".  And, yeah, I made dinner for Marty, Craig and his wife and
son and a few other friends last week.  Life ain't bad.

But...I'm mourning Brett Favre's announced retirement.

Questions comments and complaints are gleefully received at:
scotty.13411@hotmail.com

Be Well.