Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2011 18:02:45 -0500
From: Odin <belsport09@gmail.com>
Subject: Second Shot Chapter 14 Hurricane Barbara

Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real
people are entirely coincidental.

Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references

Copyright, 2010, Quonus10

I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: belsport09@gmail.com


This story will continue to be posted on Nifty. It is COMPLETED, however,
and can be found also at
http://www.gayauthors.org/story/quonus10/secondshot


14. Chapter 14: Hurricane Barbara


Jason stopped by the Java Shack after dropping Peter off. Contrary to what
he insinuated to his brother, all they did last night was hold each
other. Correction, Peter held him. If Peter was disappointed by that, he
never let on.

Jason smiled when he thought how safe he felt in his arms; even going home
didn't bother him. They spent the night in his bed, in his apartment. That
still shocked him. Hell, everything about being with Peter shocked him. The
fact he had a boyfriend, that his brother and best friend knew about it,
that they spent the night together - at his place no less. A few months ago
he would never have believed it. He sent his dad a text letting him know he
was coming home to speak to them and he would call once he dropped Wendy
off. No mistaking it wasn't a social visit.

Jason ordered a large coffee and a double mocha for the trip. The mocha was
for Wendy who messaged him before he was awake saying she wanted to ride
with him for support. Hesitant at first, he relented when she said she
hadn't been home since Christmas.

Aside from Darryl, there was no one else he could imagine opening up to if
things went as bad as he thought. For all her attempts to win him over, he
never resented her. How could he when his issue caused the problem?

No, that wasn't totally accurate. Even straight he didn't think he'd have
dated her. Then again, being gay he couldn't say that with any certainty.

Before he drove to get Wendy, he found a couple green Starbucks splash
sticks in his center console. Putting one in each drink, he put the bag
with muffins on the seat beside him. Normally he would never let anyone eat
in his car, but he was grateful for the company and he was sure she hadn't
eaten.

Wendy looked tired when he picked her up. She never offered and he didn't
have the guts to ask how she slept, but he assumed not too well.

"Thanks for coming, Wendy," he told her when they finally left campus. "I
know this can't be easy for you."

"I'm okay, Jason." She didn't look at him, but didn't sound mad either. "Oh
and thanks for the mocha and muffin. You always were thoughtful about this
kind of stuff."

"Yeah look at me, world class gentleman," they turned onto the main road
leading to the highway, "oh wait, I am really a lying asshole who can't
even be honest with the people he's closest to."

"Ouch," she said. "Being a bit harsh on yourself there aren't you?"

"You of all people should agree with me. Of everyone, I think I owe you the
biggest apology."

"Is that why you agreed to let me ride with you?" she asked.

"No." Jason never took his eyes off the road. "You said you wanted to go
see your parents. Otherwise I wouldn't have said yes."

"So you don't want someone to talk to?"

"Honestly, Wendy? I'm embarrassed to talk to you about it. I knew how you
felt but I never told you the truth."

"That's not entirely accurate," she said. "You never lied to me about your
feelings. Maybe you didn't tell me the whole truth, but you were being
honest when you said we were only going to be friends."

"Does it help knowing why finally?" Tightening his grip on the steering
wheel, he shifted gears. Would she ask the, `what if,' question?

"Yeah, a bit." She took a drink and looked in the bag. "Am I really allowed
to eat this in your car?"

Jason nodded. "Yes, there has to be some reward for giving up your Saturday
morning to ride with your pathetic friend who couldn't be straight with
you."

Wendy snickered at first, then started to laugh.

He didn't laugh with her. "I'm not sure I meant to be funny with that
statement."

"That's because you didn't hear what you said." She giggled again. "You
said you couldn't be straight with me. Really? Would your being gay have
anything to do with that?"

Jason snorted at first then joined her laugh at his comment. "Am I going to
have to watch what I say from now on?"

"My friend Brian, who is out loud and proud . . ."

"Yeah, I remember, the one I told to bugger off," Jason cut in.

". . . He always corrects me when I say things like go straight or be
straight with me. He'll say things like, `I can't do anything straight.' Or
`I go gayly forward not straight.' Your comment made me think of him."

"Great." Jason shook his head. "Now I remind you of Tinker Bell, the campus
home coming queen."

"Jason! How can you say things like that?"

"C'mon," he said. "He's the classic stereotypical fa . . . gay man."

"You need to lose the `f' word from your vocabulary." Her face turned red
as she spoke. "If you use it in a derogatory way toward other gay people,
what right do you have to be upset when people like Jordan use it toward
Peter?"

She was right, Jordan's use of the word made him out himself. "I know. I
tried to catch myself before I said it."

"Try harder. It has to hurt him enough when straight people tease him. I
can't imagine how he would feel if other gay people put him down."

"Why can't he be more normal?" Jason asked. "Then people wouldn't pick on
him so much."

"Normal?" Wendy stared at him. "You mean act straight like you and Peter?"

"I'm not acting straight. Neither is Peter. We're just being who we have
always been."

"And you think that you should be allowed to be who you are and not have
people discriminate against you just because you're gay, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do." Of course he did.

"Then why can't Brian be who he has always been without his own community
picking on him?" Jason stared at her until he realized he wasn't watching
the road.

"Wow." He was as bad as Jordan. Worse, he was gay doing it to another gay
person. "Nicely done, Wendy. You're right, of course."

"Is Peter this down on other gay people?"

"Honestly? I've never heard him talk like I just did." Peter never made an
anti-gay comment about anyone.

"Good, learn from him." Wendy sat back, turning her attention to her food."

"How did we go from my apologizing to you about us, to you lambasting me
about being a gay homophobe?" he wondered out loud.

"I'm good, that's how."


****


The rest of their drive improved. Wendy was noticeably more at ease with
him than she had been in a long time. They even managed to not get too many
crumbs in his car.

With little traffic, he had Wendy home a tick before 11:00. He promised to
call when `it' was over.

His dad's text confirmed his parents would be home. Jason wasn't surprised
his dad didn't ask for details. He wondered if they pumped Dean for
information. Probably not, he decided as he called his dad. Dean would
probably still be asleep until he got home.

"Hey, Dad," he said when his dad answered the phone.

"Good morning son, you're really up early."

"Wendy wanted to get home sooner than later," he lied. Well only
partially. Had Wendy not wanted to leave early, he would not have left much
later. Peter had to teach class so he had to get him home too.

"You mother and I are awake. We can talk when you get home." Again his dad
did him a favor by not asking what this was about. His parents probably
figured out if Jason wanted to talk on the phone, he would not have driven
two and a half hours to speak to them in person.

"Thanks, Dad, see you in a few."

"Bye Jason." His dad hung up.

Clicking over to his text icon he found Peter's name. He'd be at work by
now and wouldn't get his message until his class was over. `Almost 2 the
Lions den. Wish me luk.'

Wendy's house was a good twenty minutes away from Jason's. They didn't live
in the same town; in fact, he was reasonably sure they didn't live in the
same county. According to her, Jason and Darryl live in Shangri-La on the
Susquehanna. Driving the streets close to her house, he understood her
comment. She and Peter had two things in common, he realized. They were
both interested in him romantically and both were on scholarship. Make that
three things, they both worked to pay for some of their expenses.

For the first time in his life, he arrived home much faster than he
wanted. Pulling into the driveway, he parked next to the old Volvo wagon
that was his first car. His mom's car, he thought. When he turned 16, she
got a new Saab convertible and `gave' the station wagon to Jason along with
the duty of shuffling Dean and himself to and from their various
activities. Now it was `regifted' to Dean, minus the taxi cab detail for
his brother.

"Batten down the hatches, a mighty nor'easter is about to strike." He joked
to himself.

Keys in hand, he walked around the garage toward the back. His own green
mile, he thought with a snort. Would it really be that bad? Part of him
said, `yes,' the logical half. The hopeful side said, `no.' One side was
about to be proven wrong.

He let himself in through the mud room; the best room in the house his mom
used to say whenever he or Dean would come home from soccer caked in
mud. Seated at the table, his parents reading the paper, half empty coffee
cups in front of them. Dean, still in shorts and a tee shirt was rummaging
through the cabinets getting his breakfast.

"Hey guys," he said as cheerfully as he could manage. His mother's forced
smile told him he was probably too late. His dad stood up, hugging him as
he always did when he got home. He walked over to kiss his mom who gave him
a cheek.

"Hello Jason." Her voice, cool and formal, made his flinch.

"Yo Jase," Dean called, a bowl in one hand, a box of fruit loops in the
other. "You're here sooner than I thought."

"Wendy wanted to get an early start." Looking at his mother avoiding him he
asked, "Any more coffee?"

"There is some in the pot," his dad said. "I just made a fresh pot for my
coffee connoisseur son."

Royce even managed a smile. Jason walked over to his brother on the way to
get a cup and gave him a hug. "Did you tell them?" he asked softly.

"No," Dean whispered.

Coffee in hand, he took a seat on the side of the table he and Dean used as
kids. He tried to make eye contact with his mother again, but she sat with
her lips pinched tightly together.

"Someone called already," he said, forcing her to look up.

"Evelyn Minger said she got the strangest call from Rebecca Colmar." Her
words caused Jason's heart to stop beating. "Evidently Jordan told his mom
you and Darryl had a big argument with him last night."

Royce's face was unreadable. "Sorry mom, I wanted to tell you myself before
it got back to you."

She slapped both hands on the table, rattling the cups. "So it's true?!?"

"Yeah." Jason couldn't swallow, the lump in his throat was so big. "It is."

"Do you know what it feels like knowing everyone is talking about our
family like this?"

"Barbara," Royce interrupted. "That's not the issue right now."

"So the embarrassment of Rebecca Colmar spreading gossip about us is of no
matter?"

"Yeah I'm fine, mom, thanks for asking," Jason snapped back. "I appreciate
the concern."

For his remarks, he got what he and Dean called `the look,' or "the BTL,'
short for Barbara Tellerman Look.

"Jason, don't be disrespectful to your mother,." The reprimand sounded
almost perfunctory as Royce barely looked up from his coffee.

"You are the reason this is an issue," she said. "Don't expect sympathy for
what you did to this family."

"What exactly is it I did to `this family,' mom?" He found a measure of
strength in his anger.

"Don't talk to me like that Jason Henry Tellerman," she said. "You know
very well what you did."

Jason stole a glance at his dad who still had almost no reaction on his
face. "Sorry mom, I really don't know what I did other than be who I am."

"So now you are telling me you were born this way?" she asked. "Meaning
it's your father's and my fault."

"It's no one's fault mom," he said. "It just happened."

"Just happened?" Her voice raised an octave. "Overspending your credit card
just happens, forgetting your books at home just happens, telling the world
you are gay is a choice. A choice you made with no regard for how it would
affect THIS family."

There, she said it. With those last two words Jason knew he lost his
mother. It wasn't his being gay that made her made, it was someone found
out. Even though he expected it, the sting and emptiness felt like a punch
in the chest. Staring at the table he said, "You mean how it would affect
you don't you?"

His voice was low but steady. When he looked up he saw Hurricane Barbara
brewing in her eyes. Here it comes, he thought. Stealing a glance at his
dad, Jason couldn't understand the silent, unfocused expression his dad
wore.

"No young man, I mean this whole family." Her voice was cold and measured.

"Mom." He tried to dial down his anger. It was clear they moved beyond his
being gay. "I'm sorry, really. I never meant for anyone to find out."

"Really? That's odd." She gave him a mock look of surprise. "From what I
hear you screamed it in Jordan Colmar's face. Right after you flaunted your
boy . . . boyfriend. That doesn't sound like you were trying to hide
anything."

"Jordan was being an asshole," Jason started. "He was calling Peter all
kinds of names, calling him a faggot and worse. What was I supposed to do?
Just let him say that shit?"

Surprisingly, no one chastised him for his language.

"Peter is it?" she asked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised he has a name."

"Mom," he tried again. "If you only knew how much I struggled with this. I
have known since I was twelve, but kept hoping it would go away."

"Twelve?!?" Her voice was nearly shrill. "You've been doing this since you
were twelve?"

She wasn't listening to him. How could she deal with this if she didn't
understand him. "No, I said I knew when I was twelve."

"This is unacceptable Jason." Her lips pursed so tight he almost couldn't
see them. "Completely unacceptable."

"Sorry mom, I can't change what happened or who I am."

"You mean you don't want to change, don't you?"

"No, I mean I can't," he said gently. "I tried and it didn't work."

"We'll get you some professional help."

"No mom, I don't need professional help," he said. "I need my parents to
accept me as I am."

"Oh is that what I'm supposed to do? Accept you as you are because you say
so?"

"No mom, accept me as I am because I'm your son." He felt like he was going
to vomit, or cry or scream or all of the above at once.

His response silenced her momentarily.

"How long have you known Peter?" Royce used the silence to speak up.

"About five months," Jason replied.

"Five months?" Her voice rose again. "That's all? You did this for someone
you know five months?"

"I didn't plan to tell anyone. We were supposed to be careful."

"Where is he from?" his dad asked.

"Roy, who cares where this Peter is from or what he is like?"

"I do," he said. "If this were Jason's girlfriend, we would want to know
things about her."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this." She stared at her husband who
surprising didn't back down. "You are condoning this, this whatever it is."

"Barbara," Royce reached out for her hand. "We should talk alone before we
continue."

"Roy, I don't need to talk about it," she told him. "I am clear in my
thoughts."

"Perhaps you are," he said firmly, "but we should be clear on our
thoughts."

Something passed between his parents, something he didn't understand.

Did he imagine it? Was his dad standing up for him? Painful as his mom's
reaction was, he expected it. Certainly he hoped for better, but never
thought it too likely. A part of him expected his dad to follow her lead;
she was always the more emotional of the two. Yet, his father asked about
Peter. Asked about him with interest no less. Did this mean he understood
Jason couldn't change who he was?

Trying to read his dad's emotions proved impossible. Jason's mind wouldn't
focus no matter how he tried. He needed space to sort things out. Was he
just imagining his dad's reaction because he desperately wanted to be
accepted or was it real?

"Jason, why don't you and Dean go get some coffee or breakfast." Royce
pulled out his billfold and handed Jason twenty dollar. "Take Dean to the
diner."

His dad's voice ended his internal debate. For a few seconds he stared
blankly at his dad. When he looked for Dean, he noticed his brother was so
caught up in what was happening, he never poured his cereal.

"It's clear Dean knows more than either of us," his dad said. "Why don't
you let your mother and I talk about this alone? Come back after Dean `the
human eating machine' has finished cleaning out the diner."

The smile his dad gave him was part sympathy, part amusement at his other
son's eating ability.

"Sure, Dad." Jason stood up and motioned for Dean to leave. "C'mon Dean,
get dressed."

Almost dropping the bowl and box still in his hand, Dean quickly followed
his brother from the kitchen area.

"Roy . . . .," his mother started.

"Wait until they go, Barb."

Jason heard his dad get up before he climbed the stairs. "Get dressed,
Dean."

"Be done in a second bro," Dean said from his room.


Jason walked around his bedroom, looking at things as if they were the
first and last time he would see them. He sat on the first bed. Darryl
probably used this bed more than anyone, with all the times they slept over
each other's house. The thought of his best friend, still his best friend
even after he found out, brought a momentary smile to his face.

Scanning the room, his eyes fell on various items; photographs of him in
his uniforms, with Dean when they were kids, one of the four of them last
Christmas; trophies on his dresser; his collection of books, mostly sci-fi
with the odd classic. He got up when he noticed thee. Running his hand over
the collection of six old classics he fondly remembered the day grandpa
Henry gave them to him when he expressed the mildest of interest. They were
front and center, on the shelf. These he would take with him no matter what
happened.

"Done." Dean appeared in his door wearing jeans, a sweat shirt and a
Graydon baseball hat Jason gave him for his birthday.

Touching the books one last time, Jason smirked at his brother. Leaving his
bedroom he knew it would be a long time before he stayed here again..

"Diner? iHop? Denny's? What's your pleasure?" Jason asked.

"What do you want?" Dean asked. "I'm good with any of them."

"Dean, dad only gave me a twenty," Jason said. "I might have enough left
over to get myself a cup of coffee."

"Shut up." He punched Jason in the arm. "I don't eat that much."

"Yes you do. But then so do I when I don't feel like throwing up." They
both laughed.

"Let me drive," Dean said.

"Your car or mine?"

"Yours?" Jason shot him a `you have to be kidding' look. "Okay mine. This
will be the first time I drive you somewhere."

"Finally." Jason said. "My turn to be scared shitless in the passenger
seat."


*****


Breakfast turned into lunch when Dean felt like a hamburger and fries. They
avoided talking about what happened in the kitchen and only touched on the
reason Jason was home. Much as he wanted to sort out his feelings, he knew
he needed to be alone to do that.

Instead they talked about the past soccer season, how each other's
respective seasons went and what the next year held. Dean asked about every
goal his brother scored leaving Jason feeling guilty because Dean's
repertoire as a defender didn't leave him with near the glory.

Their interaction improved his spirits. Dean was still Dean; they were
still going to be tight. He knew this before, but this drove it home. It
was as if nothing changed between, which was true; nothing had. His
brother's excitement at being together hadn't diminished in the
least. Jason didn't want to ruin it by thinking of his mom.

Midway through lunch, Peter sent a text asking how things were
going. Peter's concern dredged up the morning's ugly moments. Succinctly as
possible, Jason recapped the tempest that only just started. By the end,
Jason lost much of his good mood. Not only did he miss Peter, he was
reminded of what awaited him when he got home.

When they pulled back in the driveway, Jason groaned. "Ready for round
two?"

"How many is this going to go? You weren't pulling your punches bro."

"You know I love Mom to death, but sometimes she is so self absorbed,"
Jason confessed. "I mean yeah, I did this just to fuck with the
family. `That's right mom, I really wanted to invite people to call me fag,
ass bandit, or cocksucker because you know that feels so special.'"

Dean laughed. "Yeah, I know."

"Sure you want to sit through Barbara vs. Jason round two?" He opened the
car door. "You don't have to, you know. Just get back in the car and drive
somewhere, if you like."

Dean shook his head. "No way bro. I'm your wingman today."

"Just figured I would give you a chance to back away without getting
covered in blood from the impending slugfest." Jason was only half kidding
about what lay ahead.

"Lay on Macduff, I got yer back." Dean's mangled Shakespeare set Jason
laughing.

Dean walked backwards, guarding Jason's back from imaginary foes. Laughing
the two walked inside. When he saw his mom sitting quietly in the family
room, the smile drained from his face.

"So, how much do I still owe you for breakfast?" his dad asked.

"Nah." Jason fished the change from his pocket. "I wasn't very hungry."

"Thanks." Royce motioned for Jason to come inside. When Dean followed, he
said, "Dean, would you leave us?"

"I told Jason I would stick around," Dean said. "I'm his wingman today."

They both snickered despite the occasion. Royce looked at Jason who
shrugged.

"Dean insists he wants to be here. I tried to talk him out of it, but I'm
fine with him being here if you are."

Their dad looked toward his wife who gave him the barest of nods. "Fine,
just try not to interrupt, Iceman."

Smiling back at their dad, they sat side by side on the couch across from
their parents.

Royce took the lead this time.

"Your mother and I spoke, obviously. While we are not pleased by this
. . ."

"I knew you wouldn't be Dad," Jason said. "I tried to keep it quiet."

"Perhaps if you let me finish you wouldn't have to justify as much," Royce
said. Jason knew from his tone to be quiet.

"Neither your mother nor I are happy about this news. It is not the life we
hoped for you. But we also don't blame you for it." He turned to Barbara
prompting a response.

"We don't." Her words lacked conviction, as if forced to agree with her
husband.

"What bothers us most is you thought you had to hide it from us." He looked
at his wife again, but didn't linger waiting for agreement. "I thought we
taught you that you could confide in us, in all things."

"Dad, do you have any idea how much I wished this was different?" Jason
asked.

"What have you tried to do to change it?" His mother asked.

"Barbara." Royce's shoulders slumped slightly as he spoke.

"No Roy." She stood up. "I don't agree we should be supportive, I'm
sorry. You can handle this your way, I won't interfere, but I am not going
to pretend I agree."

She left the room and Jason could hear her walk up the stairs. Even knowing
she was not going to react well didn't prepare him for the gut wrenching
loss he felt. He spent so much of his life trying to do what was expected
and now, for something he couldn't control she abandoned him with no more
thought than she gave leaving a bad restaurant.

Worse, he was the cause of a rift between his parents. Trying not to show
his hurt, he decided to leave.

"Sorry dad. I'll go. I don't want to come between you and mom."

"Sit down Jason," his dad ordered. "Any disagreement your mother and I have
is not your concern. Don't worry, we will be fine.

"As I said I am upset you waited to tell us until you had no choice," Royce
said. "I know I taught you better."

"Dad," Jason felt his emotions getting crazy. "Mom's reaction is exactly
what I expected. Yours is a complete shock."

"Really?" For the first time since he came home, his dad sounded
disappointed. "You didn't feel you could count on me to be there for you?"

Jason shook his head. "Sorry, Dad, I didn't; not for this. I have to be the
hugest disappointment of a son ever."

"Then I failed to teach you well enough," Royce said.

"No dad, you taught me well." Jason tried to control his tears. That his
being gay hurt them was one thing, he couldn't control who he was. That he
disappointed his dad by not trusting him pained Jason. "Before I met Peter,
I didn't want to truly accept it."

"Peter?" Royce asked. "Did he push you to do this?"

Jason shook his head drying his eyes. "No sir, he tried to help me keep it
secret. He had to deal with being outed too."

"I see."

Jason nodded. "I am sorry Dad, I should have trusted you." His eyes watered
up again. "You always supported me. I guess this seemed too big a deal."

Royce took a deep breath. "When your child is born you swear you will do
anything to keep him safe, provide for him, teach him right from wrong. My
child, right or wrong is an old expression. Then things happen that test
your resolve. I can't lie to you Jason. This is one of those moments that
tests me. Not because I don't love you, or care about you, but because I
know this is going to be hard for you and I want to fix it, and I can't."

His dad's words destroyed every attempt to stop his tears. "I know you want
what's best for me dad," he managed to get out. "But you can't fix me
because I'm not broken. Fucked up maybe, but not broken." He tried to
laugh, but it didn't help.

His dad let the curse go unmentioned. "I can understand why you would want
to keep this a secret, but in the end it made it harder."

His dad gave him a questioning stare.

"Yeah I guess so." Jason shrugged. "But I don't think it was ever going to
be easier, maybe just less messy. Jordan was still going to be an asshole,
just like his mom."

"Don't say that," Royce said.

"C'mon Dad." Anger did what nothing else couldn't do; quelled his other
emotions. "Jordan has no right to try to ruin my life like this. He's doing
it because as Darryl has been telling me for years, he's a worthless piece
of shit who's only happy when he can feel superior to someone else. Rebecca
is no better. She's trying to bring me down to hurt Mom and you because she
feels inadequate for having such a worthless son."

"You and Jordan were good friends," Royce noted. "Even as recent as a month
ago."

"No we really weren't," Jason said. "Darryl used to say I stayed friends
with him out of a misguided sense of loyalty. Jordan used me like he uses
everyone else; to make himself look better. When I was the team star, he
wanted to be my friend. Now that I'm damaged goods, he's still using me,
trying to look better than he is."

"He only makes himself look petty and small," Royce pointed out.

Jason shrugged. "I guess. But he might cost me being co-captain if not my
spot on the team and my scholarship."

"No way, Jase," Dean said. "They won't kick you off, you are too good."

"Dean." Royce shot his younger son a look, before turning back to
Jason. "What makes you think your spot on the team is at risk?"

"Who wants to play with a fag . . . a gay player?" he asked
rhetorically. "Face it, sports and gays are still oil and water."

"Have you talked to your coach about this?"

"I sent him an email asking to speak to him tomorrow," Jason said. "I
figured I need to deal with it now when he has a chance to fill my slot if
I am gone."

Royce nodded. The three sat in silence for several long moments. "Do you
plan to stay in school if you lose your spot and your scholarship?"

"I want to. I mean, if I can manage it." He really hadn't gotten this far
in his plans. Tell his family, tell his coach, tell his team. That was more
than enough to worry about at one time.

"What you mean is if you can get your tuition paid."

"Yeah," Jason wasn't sure what to say. If his outing himself cost him his
scholarship, he wasn't sure it was right to ask his father to pay for
it. "Probably have to transfer somewhere less expensive."

"Let's deal with that if it comes to that. Just don't leave school without
talking to me first."

"Yes sir." At least he might not have to leave school.

"I want to talk about Peter." His dad's statement shocked Jason back to
reality.

"Peter?"

"Did I get his name wrong?" Royce asked, sounding sure he had not.

"No, his name is Peter, I just didn't think you wanted to talk about him."

"I want to know more about him."

"Really?" Jason stared blankly at his dad. Why did he want to know? Was he
going to do something to Peter? "Why?"

"I'm your father, I want to know who my children date," he said. "I think I
have that right."

"Sorry Dad. You do. What do you want to know?"

"Where is he from, what is his background, what his parents are like, the
same questions I asked when you brought a girl home." His gaze told Jason
this was not a trick.

"He grew up near Graydon, went to the local high school. He got a full
academic scholarship, but has to pay room and board. Majoring in finance."
Jason mentally tried to run down the things his dad wanted to know. "He
was, is, a martial arts champion, competes on the school team. Works part
time at the martial arts studio he learned at to pay his rent and
stuff. His mom is an elementary school teacher, second grade, not sure
about his dad, they are divorced and his dad lives in Texas I think with
his new wife. He has an older sister, Erin, who works near school as an
assistant manager of a restaurant."

"Does he know about your trust fund?"

"Peter isn't after money, Dad." Jason realized he sounded defensive.

"How do you know?"

"He practically won't let me pay for anything, not even half of something,"
Jason said. "I mean he is really defensive any time the issue of money
comes up, insisting he can take care of himself even though he has no money
to speak of."

"So he knows your finances?"

"I didn't lie to him," Jason said. "We talked about my situation. I'm not
ashamed of it or you and told him that. When I told him about my trust
fund, he almost seemed mad. Said he couldn't be my equal. After I explained
to him I can't touch it for another 5 plus years we agreed it didn't
matter."

"As well it shouldn't," Royce agreed. "But you also can't deny you come
from different economic situations."

"I think that matters more to him than me," Jason explained. "I try to
scale back my lifestyle to fit his."

"Which explains the extra money in your account."

"Yeah." He almost looked away from his dad, but then added. "We eat in a
lot, he is trying to teach me how to cook. It definitely saves me money."

"Fair enough, I'm not finding fault. I understand now that is all."

After another long pause, Jason spoke. "Is there anything else you want to
know?"

For a moment Jason wasn't sure his dad was going to speak. When he did, the
words came slow and deliberate. "Are you being safe?"

"Yes, dad," Jason promised. "Peter is the same way."

"You know that how?"

"We talked about it before we did anything." Jason squirmed in his
seat. "Also, he has never suggested we do anything unsafe."

"Good to hear. See that it stays that way." Nodding, his dad stood
up. "That's all I have to say. Give me a minute to go speak to your
mother."

"Sure."

Jason looked at his brother once their dad left.

"Damn, Jase, I hurt for you listening to that."

"Yeah, I feel like I just played 90 with no break." Jason put his arm
around his brother, pulling him closer. "Thanks Dean. Your being here meant
a lot."

Dean's smile helped ease the sting of his mother's rejection. "You know it
Jase, you're my brother. Nothing's changed."

His brother's unconditional love reminded Jason he would always have a
family, no matter his mother's decision.

"Dad seemed cool," Dean said before Jason could say anything.

"Way better than I expected, but mom's reaction was worse than I figured,"
Jason said. "She is going to be really unhappy for a while I think."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Wish I could say I thought different."

The brothers sat down, waiting like two school boys for the head master to
discipline them. When Royce returned, his looked tired.

"Your mother doesn't want to add anything."

"Sorry Dad." Jason stood up. "I really am. You have no idea."

Royce smiled weakly. "I think I do son. I can see it in your eyes."

Jason's gaze flicked to the doorway behind him. "Will she be okay?"

"It's going to hurt for a while," Royce conceded. "Rebecca Colmar's actions
will only rub salt in her wounds."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Let me deal with your mother." He wrapped his arm around his son. "You
worry about you, okay?"

Feeling like the worst was over, he smiled. "Thanks Dad. For everything."

His dad squeezed him once more before letting go. "We are a family, we will
see this through."

When Jason looked over, Dean smiled encouragingly. "Thanks again, Dean, I
so owe you."

"Does this means I can come visit this spring?"

"You could have before, doofus." Jason punched his arm. "You got wheels
now."

Dean smiled before punching back.

His dad interrupted their banter, "How long are you staying Jason?"

"I'm going back tonight, but not before 6:00." He thought about his
schedule. "I don't want to rush Wendy."

"Would you mind taking your brother to dinner?" Royce put his hand in his
pocket.

"I got it dad. I'm under budget, remember?" He laughed.

"Take it anyway." He handed his son a hundred dollar bill. "Your mother and
I need some time alone."

"Go shower," he told Dean. "Be quick and I'll let you drive my car."

"Be down in five." Dean nearly bowled over his dad.

"You got ten," Jason called after him.

When it was just the two of them, Jason turned to his dad. "I really don't
know what to say." He felt himself getting teary again. "I'm just blown
away."

Royce put his arms around his son.

"Don't mistake my love for you with my being happy this is your path,"
Royce said. "I almost said choice, but I know that's not what it is. Just
remember I will always be here for you. I'm your father and you're my
son. That won't change.

"One last thing." Royce put a bit of space between them. He looked right at
Jason. "You are not a disappointment, not now, not ever. We will get
through this."

"Thanks Dad." He had no other words to express his feelings. "I think I'll
wait for Dean down here."

Royce nodded before leaving.