Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2012 00:42:19 -0600
From: Jonothan Wolf <jwolf24450@gmail.com>
Subject: The Funny Thing Is... Chapter 21

	... I Never Thought it Could End That Way

**Standard disclaimer applies. This is purely fiction (if based only
slightly on actual events). Don't read if you shouldn't because you're
under 18 or live in a backwards area. This is a continuation of The List.
It isn't necessary to read The List, but it would help in understanding
characters and references. I appreciate any and all feedback, so please
email me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Enjoy the story!

	As humans, we process tens of thousands of decisions a day. Some
are trivial; what to eat for breakfast, which route to take to work,
whether or not to call your mother. Others are more substantial and require
much more care and thought. When making those decisions, we see an end to
our choices. We way the final destinations, and make our decisions based on
which outcome would be best. I had made a ton of bad decisions up to that
point, readers. But never did I think the outcome would turn out that way.
       I've been a writer for a very long time, and there are no words for
me to describe exactly what I felt as I drove away from St. Mark's School
that afternoon. Anger, sadness, surprise. None of those words came
close. Disappointed only began to scratch the surface.
	I knew I couldn't drive home. Chase wouldn't be out of afternoon
practice for a few hours, and the thought of meandering around an empty
apartment until then only made what I was feeling worse.
	Instead, I drove to the house of a friend I knew would be
available.
	"Coop, buddy. Come on in."
	"I need a drink," I announced, following Spencer into his loft and
hearing the door click behind me.
	"Um. Okay. Yeah. It's two-thirty in the afternoon. Everything
okay?"
	"It will be. After a drink."
	Spence gave me a knowing look and led me straight to his fully
stocked bar.
	"We have the usual suspects. Vodka, scotch, tequila."
	"Vodka," I said.
	"Vodka it is," he replied, pulling two short glasses and pouring
Belvedere straight. "Twist?"
	"No," I said. I put my hand out to take the glass from my friend
and immediately inhaled a sip.
	"Cooper, you're shaking. Is everything okay?"
	"No," I said, shaking my head. I brought the glass up to my lips
and took a long sip. "In fact, nothing is okay. Nothing is going the way
that it should."
	"What happened?"
	"I told CJ that he was going to Chicago and he flipped out. I tried
to talk to him at school today, and he basically told me to shove it. In
front of a secretary."
	"Ouch."
	"What am I going to do? I can't lose my kids forever; I didn't sign
up for that."
	"That really sucks, buddy," Spencer said. He poured more vodka into
my glass and topped himself off. He walked around the bar and I followed
him to a seat in the living area. "What are you going to do?"
	"I don't know. I thought it would be easier to put all of this on
myself. I thought if he got mad at me, then he wouldn't be mad at Devon for
the move, or Lizzy for basically deciding without his input."
	"Take one for the team."
	"Yeah, but now I want to take it back." Explaining to Spencer
exactly what was happening should have helped. Getting it off my chest
should have helped, but it didn't. Instead it made me feel like the
ultimate failure. I had failed at my marriage, and now I was failing as a
father.
	"Ceej will come around," Spencer said confidently. There was no
sarcasm or snarkiness in his voice. He was serious for once in his life and
I took notice. "Trust me. I know the kid. He will come around."
	"This time, I don't think that he will."
	Like any good friend that knows when to let something go, Spencer
didn't say anything else. He simply raised his glass towards me, tilted his
head, and took a drink. Two minutes and one bottoms up later, we refilled
our glasses and waited for the liquor to hit us.
	"You know what just kills me?" I asked an hour into our
mid-afternoon bender, party of two. "Is Devon didn't even want to have
kids. She wanted to wait."
	"I mean, y'all got married when you were like five years old. I
wouldn't have wanted kids then either."
	"That's not the point. I'm the one who put everything on hold and
stayed home. I'm the one that was with them every single
day. She's... she's..."
	"A bitch."
	"She's a bitch!" I echoed. I let out a chuckle. "She's a raging,
cheating, fucking bitch!" The laughter tapered. "And she's raising my
children. In Chicago!"
	"Cooper." Spencer reached out and took a hold of my glass. A minute
later, he sat back down with two full vodka and tonics.
	"And I know you were right. And Sebastian was right. And Kyle was
kind of right, even though... whatever. I mean, I get it. I know I
shouldn't have kicked things off full throttle with Chase. But we'd wasted
too much time. I'm an idiot. I'm a fucking idiot."
	"You're not an idiot." I gave Spencer a look. "Okay, you're an
idiot. But are you kidding? Any of us, Bass included, would kill for what
you have. You're in love, and you always will be. My guy can't even take me
out to a restaurant because he doesn't want anyone to see us together."
	"He won't what?"
	"We order in, Cooper. When we go out, it's to sports bars and I'm
his new `buddy' who's helping him get into real estate." Spencer looked
genuinely hurt telling me about the complexities of his relationship with
Troy. Here I'd been so self-centered, I didn't even realize that my friends
had relationship issues of their own. Any time we got together, it was my
drama on the table.
	"He's scared," I counseled. "He's probably not used to feeling this
way."
	"Yeah, well, I'm not used to feeling any way. If he doesn't get
used to it soon, he's out."
	"Spencer, you like this guy. Give it time. He'll come around."
	More drinks led to more drunken talking. It wasn't until I puked at
nine o'clock that we put the bottle down. It wasn't until I puked again an
hour later that we decided it was time for me to go home.
	"I'll drive you," Spencer said.
	"No way. You are drunk. I'll take a cab."
	"And what? Leave your car here?" he asked.
	"I'll get it tomorrow."
	"I'll drive you tonight in your car and I will take a cab back."
	I looked Spencer in the eye. He seemed fine to make it, so I
resigned. There was no use arguing. He was always the guy that drove. I
handed him my keys, grabbed my coat, and followed him to my car.
	We logged ten more minutes of Devon bashing on the way up town,
using the back roads and avoiding I-75 at all drunk driving cost. When we
got to the apartment, I noticed Chase's car in the drive.
	"He's here, so... If you want to wait for a cab out here, I
understand."
	"Cooper, you've said it before. He's in your life. I can wait
inside."
	I looked at my friend to see if he was serious. I shrugged.
	"Alright. Call a town car or whatever and come on up."
	I gave Spencer the address. He dialed as we pulled ourselves up the
stairs to my front door.
	"Ugh, he better not use that fake French bullshit while I'm here,"
Spencer said hanging up and knocking. He crossed his arms and waited. A
second later, the door light clicked on. A second after that, Chase
answered the door in nothing but running shorts.
	"Gamin," he said.
	"And there it is," Spencer breathed under his breath. I laughed.
	"Gamin, where have you been? I've been calling you for an hour,"
his voice sounded strained and concerned.
	"He was with me," Spencer said, following Chase into the living
room. "We were having a therapy session."
	"And my phone was off. Or off me. Or something. I don't know, I
didn't hear it."
	"Well you should have heard it," Chase replied. "I was calling
because your son is here."
	"What?" I immediately snapped out of any traces of drunkenness I
was feeling. "Where is he?"
	"He's asleep upstairs. I told him you'd wake him up when you got
home."
	I couldn't believe what he was saying. The same son I had seen
earlier that afternoon who had wanted nothing to do with me was sleeping in
the room I'd picked out just for him. It didn't add up.
	"What's he doing here?"
	"I don't know. He said he needed to talk to you and that he'd wait
until you got home."
	I looked at Spencer. He blinked his eyes at me.
	"Go talk to him."
	"Are you okay? Here... with..."
	"We're adults, Cooper. I won't slug him, so go."
	I nodded, and moved towards the stairs, hesitating at first and
then moving more quickly. I could only imagine how awkward those two would
be in the living room while I was upstairs, but I didn't really care. He'd
come to talk to me and nothing was going to stop me from explaining the
situation to him.
	"Coop," Chase called from down below. I stopped, turned and looked
at him, just in time to see a pack of gum whizzing towards my face. I must
have still had traces of vodka vomit on my breath, even after brushing
three times.
	The sight of my son sleeping peacefully on his side, in his clothes
from school, curled up and facing the wall just like I had when I was his
age took away any lingering bits of alcohol in my system. I sat at the edge
of his bed and shook his shoulders.
	"Hey, buddy," I whispered. "You awake?"
	He turned slowly, rubbed his eyes, and yawned awake.
	"Dad," he yawned, sitting up and leaning on the wall. He brought
his knees to his chest and hugged them.
	"Yeah," I replied. "What's up? Chase said you came by earlier and
it was important."
	He looked me in the eye for a second before looking down. I could
tell he was tired.
	"I, um... I wanted to apologize for earlier at school. I was pretty
pissed."
	"Yeah, you were. And I don't blame you. You have every right to be
angry at me, son, but I just want you to..."
	"I know that what you did wasn't easy." The way he said it warmed
me from the inside out. I didn't imagine for a second that he completely
got it, but he must have on some level for him to realize that I only had
my kid's interest at heart in making my decision.
	"CJ, you have no clue how difficult it was."
	"You didn't have to pretend like I was going to ruin your life if I
stayed."
	"I know. And I should have explained everything honestly from the
very beginning. But I didn't want you to blame your mom or your sister for
all of this."
	"Yeah, I know. That's what mom said."
	"Yeah?" I asked.
	"Yeah," he replied. I couldn't help myself. I leaned in and gave my
son a big hug. I swallowed hard, trying to keep whatever was welling up in
my eye from falling down my cheek and onto the top of my son's head.
	"I love you so much kiddo," I said softly.
	"I know, Dad. I love you too."
	"We'll talk in the morning, okay?"
	I let him go, repeated how much I loved him, and told him to get
out of his uniform and go to bed.
	Spencer was gone when I made it back downstairs and Chase was in
the kitchen pouring boiling water into the coffee press.
	"How is he?"
	"He's fine," I replied. "He's, um... I don't know. He keeps
surprising me. Is that even possible? For a kid his age to surprise me?"
	"You did an awesome job with him. Both of them. They're good kids."
	"Yeah," I said. I walked around the bar and pulled Chase into a
close hug. "You would make an amazing dad, too."
	"You think so?" he smiled, his eyes firmly on mine. I nodded. "You
planning to knock me up, Carpenter?"
	I laughed. For the first time in a long time, I let out a real
laugh. I could see light somewhere far down at the end of the tunnel. I
could see a world in which my kids didn't resent me, Chase didn't abandon
me, and my friends and I all got along.
	"If I could knock you up, Pal, I would have done it a long time
ago," I laughed. He leaned in and gave me a quick peck.
	"I'm not 100 percent convinced you can't," he replied, kissing me
again. "We should put it to the test."
	Another kiss and I was ready to put it to the test. He leaned in,
put his hand on the back of my head, and held our lips together in a long
and passionate kiss. His embrace was warm, and strong. It was much more
intoxicating than anything Spencer could have served me. I would have
melted in his arms right then.
	Instead, I pushed him back, wiped his saliva off my lips, and
looked him deep in the eye.
	"I would tonight, but... he's right upstairs. And... I don't know."
	It was a reflex I hadn't expected. I hadn't thought about how I'd
feel having sex with Chase while my kids were in the apartment. It wasn't
something I'd faced until then, and being faced with it, my body bypassed
my brain and made the decision on its own. It wasn't happening.
	I could tell he was slightly disappointed, having revved up, even
for just a second.
	"I get it," he said, trying not to show his disappointment. But I
could see it in his face. It was a face that concealed nothing, especially
from me. After all this time, he may as well have written his emotions on
his forehead for how well I could recognize them.
	I leaned in for another kiss, this time only barely letting our
lips graze together.
	"Maybe we just keep it extra quiet," I whispered. He pushed into me
firmly. I grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom. A minute later, I
was on my knees in front of him, giving him a silent blowjob so that my
son, who was approximately 30 steps away wouldn't hear.
	Ten minutes after that, Chase wordlessly gave me a load of cum that
was as sweet as it was silent. And ten minutes after that, I fell asleep in
his nook.
	I woke up earlier than usual the next morning. I had two classes to
lecture and a ton of work to catch up on. I had papers to grade, edits to
make, and bosses to avoid. But before all of that could start, I had a son
to console.
	I woke up around six a.m., my head throbbing and my stomach
turning. I started with one bottle of water and two ibuprofen, followed by
another bottle and a cup of coffee. I took a quick shower, and then hit the
kitchen to make waffles.
	Chase woke up just as I finished the first batch.
	"Will you grab Ceej, please? He needs to get up so we can talk
before school."
	Chase lethargically bound up the stairs and knocked on CJ's door. A
minute later, the two of them, both as lazy as zombies, crawled down the
stairs and sat at the bar. I put up two plates of waffles and warm maple
syrup.
	"This is good, Dad," CJ mumbled.
	"Anyone want some fruit?"
	"When did you become Betty Homemaker?"
	"Are you kidding?" CJ answered. "Dad makes the best breakfast. It's
pretty much all he can cook, but still. Waffles, pancakes, quiche."
	"My quiche is pretty good."
	"It's amazing. I'll miss it," CJ added, stuffing a huge piece of
waffle into his mouth.
	"Speaking of, I wanted to talk to you this morning," I said.
	"Should I go?"
	"No, you can stay," CJ answered for me before I had the chance to
politely say it would be better if he took a shower. I let it go, and
pressed on.
	"I know that this whole thing is screwed up. And I want you to know
that I didn't mean what I said the other day. I'm not tired of you hanging
around. Chase and I aren't starting a family to replace you guys."
	"I know. That's what Mom said."
	"She explained that to you?"
	"Yeah," he said.
	"What else did she say?" I was curious what my ex wife had told our
very volatile child to get him to soften enough towards me to seek me out
and apologize.
	"She said that you were taking the bullet for her and Liz. She said
that you would rather have me mad at you than at them. She said that you
tore this family apart enough, and you didn't want to do it anymore, so you
were willing to let us go off and be a family without you. It was some
pretty dramatic stuff, Dad, even for her."
	"Wow," I replied. I made a note to thank her at some point before
they left. I wondered what would prompt her to say such nice things about
me, after everything I had done. "Do you have any idea what made her say
that?"
	CJ didn't respond. Instead he took a huge bite out of his waffle
and shrugged. It made me slightly suspicious of what he might have done or
said to get her to sit him down and explain the situation. Maybe she heard
about the St. Mark's incident and thought enough was enough.
	"In any case, your mom is right, kiddo. It was stupid, but the
other day, I thought it would be easier to have you upset with me than with
your mother or sister."
	"It's not your fault they want to move to Chicago."
	"I know. But it is my fault that I'm not going with them. And
you. That much is my fault."
	"I guess. I just wish we could all stay in Dallas and live like we
are now. It's not so bad taking cabs to and from your apartment. And in a
couple years I can drive. It would just be easier if we could stay."
	What could I say to that? That this town was too small for his
mother and me to both live in it? That Chicago wasn't that far away. He'd
still be able to see me? Things would change beyond what they already had.
	"I know you want to stay here, but that's impossible as of
now. Right now, you need to embrace Chicago and starting over. It'll be an
adventure."
	"I guess," he said, totally unconvinced. I looked to Chase for a
brief reprieve of support. He shrugged.
	"I need to get ready for work, kiddo, and you need to get dressed
for school."
	He nodded, silently finished his waffle, and then slugged his way
upstairs. I hopped in the shower, intending a quick rinse, but was joined
by Chase just as I was lathering up.
	"I don't have time for anything this morning," I said.
	"Okay," he replied. "How do you feel?"
	"About?"
	"Your son."
	"You know how I feel," I replied, turning away from him and hogging
the stream.
	"I want you to tell me. Just in case I have it wrong."
	"I feel bad for making him go through this. I feel awful because of
all four of us, he's getting the biggest shaft. I just... I wish I could
take it back."
	I turned around. Chase was looking at me intently, reading exactly
what was in my eyes.
	"You're a good man, Cooper. This will pass, and you will realize
that you are a good man, and a good father."
	I looked at him, finding it hard to believe his words. A good man
doesn't put his family through hell. A good man doesn't punish all of those
around him because of his impulses. A good man grins, bears it, and
endures. I wasn't a good man, and I knew it. But there was a good man
looking at me, believing in me. And even if I couldn't be a good man, I
could try.
	"Thank you," I said. I stepped out of the shower, got dressed in a
flash, and called for CJ upstairs. Making the morning detour to make
waffles for three had really set me back, and I was running late.
	"I'm almost ready, Dad," he said.
	"Hurry, please. Traffic on the Tollway is going to suck," I called.
	Just as I was picking up my shoulder bag, I heard Chase exit the
bedroom in his towel and walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
	"Hey gamin, if you need to get to work, I can take CJ to St. Mark's
with me."
	"I thought you didn't have to be there until this afternoon," I
replied, fishing for my keys.
	"Actually, I was planning to go in early and do a few reps while
the pool was free. It's not a problem at all."
	 I looked at Chase and then up the stairs. It was a good idea, I
thought. The two of them were comfortable around each other, and I
appreciated that.
	"Ceej! Chase is going to take you to school, okay?"
	"Okay, I'll be down in a minute," he replied. I turned to Chase and
thanked him.
	"Not a problem." I could tell by the grin on his face that he had
taken my words the night before seriously. I wasn't sure if he was trying
to prove something to me, or live up to my assertion that he'd make a good
dad, but something about him, and how he'd volunteered to drive CJ, seemed
different.
	I drove to work, avoiding the interstate traffic by taking the
Frontage Road all the way up to University. By the time I found parking in
the faculty lot and hauled myself into the English building, I only had
seven minutes to spare before my lecture.
	I immediately opened my email, and just as I was opening Professor
Kinnear's response to my message, I heard a knock on my door.
	"I was hoping to catch you this morning," Kinnear said, stepping
into my office. "Can I come in?"
	"Sure thing," I replied. "I was just about to open your email."
	"Yeah, it just says I'll be at a conference in Houston tomorrow. I
wanted to catch you though. Your email sounded urgent."
	I sat up and took a deep breath.
	"Yeah, I um. I know the powers that be are still making their final
decision about what to do with me, and I just wanted to let you know that I
changed the manuscript."
	"Oh you did?"
	"Yessir," I said. "It's completely different. It lacks
the... intimacy of the one you read. More in line with All Cooped Up."
	I tried to read the response on his face, but Kinnear betrayed
nothing.
	"That's a relief," he finally sighed.
	"Okay... so we're good then?"
	"Get the draft of your new manuscript to me as soon as you can," he
said, returning to his urgent tone.
	"It's done," I said. I had it pulled up on my computer and could
have it sent before my first class.
	"Good. I'm not sure how far up this decision has already gone, but
I'll definitely make it known that you're making changes. We'll see if we
can save your job."
	"That's all I'm hoping for."
	Kinnear left, and I took a deep breath. I composed myself, fixed my
tie, pulled on a blazer and left my office for class.
	Eight hours and three lectures later, I left SMU feeling like all
hope wasn't lost. Maybe I'd get to keep my job. Maybe not. It was
definitely looking up at that point, but I wasn't going to get my hopes up
until I heard one way or the other from the department head or the dean. I
loaded up a stack of response papers to take home and grade. They should
have been done a week before, but distractions I considered justified had
gotten in the way.
	My phone rang as I loaded the papers and my bag into the
passenger's seat of the car.
	"Hello?" I answered as I stepped in and buckled up.
	"Hey, Cooper. Are you off work?" her voice sounded tired and worn,
as if she'd been on it all day.
	"Yeah, I am. What's up?"
	"I... um... I wanted to talk to you. Liz is at Sebastian and
Britney's house. CJ left me a message saying he and Chase were going to get
dinner together after soccer. Which is perfect because I was hoping you
could stop by the house so we could talk."
	"Yeah," I replied. "I'm just leaving the office now. I can be at
the house in five."
	"Okay, perfect," she said. I noticed the relief in her voice, as if
the hard part was over. Calling me was the difficult part. Whatever she had
to say from here would be easy.
	It took one look at Devon when I pulled into the driveway to
realize that what I'd initially thought was completely false. She didn't
look like the hard part was over. On the other hand, she looked as fatigued
as ever.  To any normal naked eye, she was still radiant. Her hair was
pulled back, her clothes hung neatly off her frame, and her glasses
concealed any emotion in her eyes. But I could tell that she'd lost weight,
even since our last custody meeting. Devon only ever pulled her hair back
when she was too stressed to straighten it properly, and I could see the
tiredness clear through her reading lenses.
	"Hey," I said, trying my best to be cheerful as I walked up to the
open door.
	"Come in, Coop," she said, just as determined to not be warm
towards me. I watched her take a seat at the breakfast table with half an
eye. The other half scanned the living room, wondering where all of our
stuff had gone.
	Most of the small things we'd collected over the years had been
packed away. Books, lamps, pictures on the wall. The place was bare, except
for the large bookshelf and the sectional couch. The kitchen was even
worse. The pots and pans that normally hung above the island counter were
gone. So were any small appliances. The space looked deserted, as if Devon
and the kids were squatting.
	"I can see packing is coming along," I said. I knew that Devon
planned on leaving soon, but I didn't know that soon meant packing had
already started.
	"Yeah," she replied. "We started putting things away when Liz and I
got back. Movers are coming for the big things on Saturday. Everything else
will be shipped after us next week."
	I heard the words, and my mind instinctively began doing the
calculations. If the small stuff was moving after them sometime next week,
that meant they were leaving before sometime next week.
	My face betrayed my conclusion almost as soon as I reached
it. Devon tilted her head, put a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed.
	"You knew we were leaving soon."
	"How soon?"
	"Tuesday afternoon," she replied. It was Thursday. My kids would be
gone in less than a week.
	"You're kidding me."
	"Cooper..."
	"Were you just going to sneak out of town in five days without
telling me?"
	"That's why I..."
	"Tuesday? Jesus Christ, Dev. When am I even going to get to say
goodbye."
	"What? Were you going to throw a going away party?"
	"Maybe," I replied firmly. "I would have liked the chance."
	"Well you have until Tuesday. I start work the following Monday,
and I'd like time to get settled in."
	I rolled my eyes. I knew why she was leaving so quickly, and it
irked me.
	"Oh, you need time to settle in. A whole week?"
	"There is a lot to do when we arrive," she said, her voice
even. She wasn't being defensive, rather she spoke as if I was being the
ridiculous one. No, I thought. Leaving without giving me proper notice was
ridiculous. I suddenly had no desire to speak to her. I wanted to be
anywhere in the world but near my ex wife.
	"Did you need to tell me something, or was this house call simply
to inform me that you were halfway out of town already?"
	"I understand your frustration," she began to rationalize.
	"No, I honestly don't think that you do. I was here two nights ago
and everything was intact. You couldn't tell me my kids were leaving in
less than a week at that point? Our divorce isn't even final yet."
	"The papers will be out on Monday."
	"Unbelievable," I retorted, hoisting myself up from my seat, ready
to bolt.
	"Cooper, sit down. Please." I looked her in the eye, half standing,
halfway leaning against the table. I blinked slowly and lowered myself back
into the seat. "There are a couple things I want to get out of the air
before we leave."
	I had little to no desire to let her explain why they were packing
up and getting out of Dodge so quickly. I squirmed in my seat, dug down and
sat there. I felt like I owed her that much. If she had things to get off
her chest, I'd let her. I'd make her feel guilty for giving me
approximately five day's notice later.
	"I was thinking about how this all started the other day. I was
packing up our old bedroom and I found your old Mustang shirt."
	"Dev..." If I wasn't uncomfortable already, I certainly was at that
point. I didn't think another trip down Sentimental Lane was
necessary. We'd been through this before, the both of us. I was ready to
move on, and clearly she was just ready to move.
	"Hey Carpenter," she said with a smile as I walked straight into
her bedroom, opening the door after a brief knock. "How was the date?"
	"You've been in that position staring at that same book since I
left," I answered, avoiding the question. "I'm not even sure you've turned
the page."
	"Yeah, yeah," she replied, scooting over in her bed and pulling the
cover so I could scoot in and sit next to her. I kicked off my shoes. "Some
of us came to college to learn how to do other things besides dissect
Haikus and take bong rips."
	"We do sonnets and drink wine, occasionally," I retorted with a
smile.
	"You're avoiding. How was the date?"
	"The same as the last six dates," I answered honestly. "He blabbed
for an hour, I got tired of him. Spencer called to give me an out, and I
walked around the promenade eating fro-yo."
	"Thinking about he who shall not be named?"
	I turned to her and pursed my lips.
	"You know, I'm starting to think no other guy will ever measure
up," I said. I lay down in her bed, reached over, grabbed her remote
control, and clicked the TV on. I heard her close her Bio book and crawl
down next to me. I clicked to Lifetime, almost as a reflex, just as a
commercial for `The Craig's List Killer' came on. I made a mental note to
watch it on Thursday at 8/7 Central.
	It was our ritual. It had been for a couple months. Devon and I
would hang out, watch cheap TV, and eat 100 calorie packs on occasion, all
while I avoided my recent heartbreak. We'd lie there next to each other
until one of us fell asleep and the other spooned in next to them.
	"At least you're getting back out there," she said, breaking the
routine for once. We talked, but never about him. And never about how sad
my life was. She turned towards me, propped her head up with her elbow, and
looked at me deeply. I kept my eyes peeled to the TV.
	"Eventually, you'll find someone who will erase every memory of
that guy."
	She was fond of calling him `That Guy'. That guy who broke my
heart. That guy who I loved and lost. That guy who disappeared and never
came back. I followed her lead, turned to face her and forced a smile.
	"I appreciate your optimism."
	"I'm serious, Cooper. You're a catch. And someone deserving will
realize that."
	"What if," I started slowly. "What if people only get so many
chances in their life? What if I've used up all of my chances on Chase and
Kyle?"
	"I doubt that," she replied with a smile. "But if you have, then
you'll die alone. Probably with a cat or two. And you'll have me, of
course. And probably Spencer. He's never getting married. And the three of
us, four if you count the cat, can sit around and watch reruns of Keeping
up with the Kardashians every Sunday. And we'll all be jealous of Sebastian
and Britney."
	"Naturally."
	I laughed out loud at the last part. Those two were always the
barometer, regardless of how dysfunctional they were. The
on-again/off-again. It was comical that everyone envied their relationship.
	And with that laugh, I felt better. I felt better about all of the
failed attempts to date again. I felt better about the future outlook. And
I felt better about being next to a straight girl when all I wanted was a
different boy, a million miles away.
	"You know what would be easiest?" I asked, my voice low and
unusually serious. It surprised even me, as I spoke without thinking. "If
you and I just got together."
	"Oh, come on."
	"No, I'm serious. We're both attractive. We get along
perfectly. I'm always here anyway. I would save so much money on fro-yo."
	She smiled a wide and hearty smile. One of those rare ones that
snuck through her usually composed demeanor.
	"Yeah, well, there's one minor detail that would make our union
celibate at best."
	I gave her a wicked grin, scooted in and pulled her close to me.
	"I don't know," I said flippantly. "I wasn't always into guys, you
know? I had quite the reputation in high school."
	"Oh, did you, lady killer?"
       "I did." I ran my hand up the inside of her shirt, jokingly at
first. Her skin was smooth and soft. Hairless. I'd seen her naked a million
times. I'd touched her delicate skin a million times. But even lying there,
joking with her about it, it felt different. Our eyes locked, I grinned
like a little kid about to reach second for the first time, and I let my
fingers graze upwards.
	I could tell that my touch had a different effect on her that time,
just like it did me. For being only half serious about it, the implication
was the same.
	What if?
	"It would never work," she whispered. She held my gaze without
blinking. I knew she was right, practically. But theoretically, it would
have. Instead of answering, I leaned in close, kissed her softly, and
leaned back for a reaction.
	Was that okay? I wanted to ask. She blinked at me, giving me no
indication of whether or not it was okay.
	"Are you drunk?" was her eventual response. I felt like an idiot at
first, but when she smiled at me, I smiled back and shook my head quickly.
	"Do you think we should be?"
	"Yes," she replied, jumping out of bed and dashing to her stash in
her mini fridge in the corner. She pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose, and I
met her at the foot of the bed. She took the first pull and we alternated
after that, discussing the implications of what would happen if we went
through with our anatomical experiment. She gave me brief rundown of what
I'd find down there, as a refresher course. Ever the science nerd, she
offered to draw me a map.
	"I think I'll be okay," I told her, refusing the map.
	"You're serious about this?"
	"Devon, you could be out with any guy right now. Any night of the
week. But you always wait here for me. And I doubt that I will ever be in
love with a guy again. Maybe, you know... this is how it was meant to end
up."
	And even at the time, I only partially believed what I was
saying. Instead of waiting for a response, I took one last sip, and then
went in for a second kiss. This time, it wasn't brief. I didn't look back
and ask for permission. I went in. I tested my theory. And contrary to what
she predicted, this time, it worked.
	Devon took a deep breath. "I want you to know that I'm not mad at
you anymore. I'm not filing our marriage away as a waste. The time we had,
I think that we were pretty lucky. And so, I want you to know that I am
leaving here, and I'm not angry with you anymore."
	I felt a pang of guilt. I had come in expecting the worst, and here
she was, for the first time since this whole thing began, laying it out and
expressing that she didn't totally and completely hate me.
	"I appreciate that." I answered. I ran my tongue over my top row of
teeth "Thank you for telling me that."
	We sat there, looking at each other for an uncomfortable amount of
time before either of us said anything.
	"Was that all you wanted to..." I asked, trailing off. I would have
rather left right there, on a good note, but I had to be sure there wasn't
ore.
	"No, um... actually. Did CJ talk to you last night?"
	"We talked this morning. About what you told him. How you explained
everything I was trying to do. That was really noble of you. Thanks for
that."
	Devon rolled her eyes upwards and swallowed. She pursed her lips
slowly and pulled an invisible strand of her hair behind her ear, as if her
pony tail wasn't already perfect. This was her routine any time she was
about to deliver a statement she didn't want to. It was her routine any
time something threatened to embarrass her, or puncture through her
porcelain exterior.
	"He didn't say anything else?" I looked at her, wondering what the
hell she was talking about. "He didn't tell you why I all of a sudden
pulled him aside and told him what I thought your reasoning was?"
	"No. He just said you sat him down and told him that the Chicago
move was going to suck and that I was trying to keep him from getting mad
at you and Lizzy. Why? What happened?"
	I could tell she was about to say something that made her highly
uncomfortable and I braced myself. What could have possibly prompted Devon,
who here-to-fore was ready to pack the kids up and head out of town like a
bat out of Texan hell?
       "I walked in on your son masturbating, Cooper."
	She looked at me deeply, her eyes wide. It took me a second to play
back exactly what she'd said, and when I did, I could only muster up one
reaction.
	"Stop laughing, it was... it was awkward."
	"Devon," I choked, cracking up. "Wait. Wait a second." I couldn't
stop laughing, as hard as I tried. Finally, after catching my breath, I
croaked.
	"Okay... so you had this heart to heart with Ceej because you
caught him... choking the chicken?" I erupted into uncontrollable laughter
after the words escaped my mouth.
	"Wah... I decided after walking in on him punishing himself, that I
had no clue what I was dealing with. He's... he's at that age, Cooper. What
was I supposed to tell him?"
	"I don't know."
	"Well I sat him down and told him all of the reasons why he should
forgive you and then I sent him over to your place. He was supposed to talk
to you about... that."
	"He was asleep when I got home last night," I confessed. "We didn't
talk until this morning, and even then it was just about the move fiasco."
	"Well... I was over my head on that one. And I knew that I'd be
over my head on a lot of things. Lizzy I can figure out. I was a teenage
girl, I get what she's dealing with. But CJ, and that situation, I
just... I'll have no one to send him to in Chicago."
	I read her face, complete with every implication written on it. My
laughter, inside and out subsided as the gravity of what my very soon to be
ex wife was saying hit me. The look on my face must have indicated how
little I believed in what she said. There was no way I was reading her
right.
	"He needs his father, Coop. Right now, more than ever. He needs his
father."
	I blinked at her, unable to form a response. There was a pain in
her eyes that I hadn't seen until then. It wasn't the pain of someone who
had lost a husband. It was the pain of something I completely understood,
all too well. It was the pain of someone who was about to do the right
thing no matter how much it hurt them.
	"As much as I would love to come between that and have him move to
Chicago with me and Lizzy, I just... I can't. I can't win this one. He
needs his father."
	The flash of vulnerability I caught in that epiphany quickly
subsided as Devon returned to her pragmatic way.
	"I thought about it today, and I think he should finish the
semester out here. If things are going well, maybe the year. Graduate
junior high with his class. I don't know."
	"What?"
	I was stunned. I had a million thoughts swirling through my head
and not a single one of them landed. Part of me wanted to celebrate, but
part of me couldn't help but think it was a mistake. I'd offered the deal
to the judge for a reason. Separating the kids wasn't an option.
	"I know what you're thinking," Deon said, clearly reading my
confused expression accurately. "And as much as I agree with you, I don't
think letting him finish out the year here with you would be the worst
thing. It'll give him a chance to get acclimated with the idea of
Chicago. He can come visit a couple times, as many times as he needs. And
he can start high school there. He and Liz aren't going to fall apart over
six months."
	I heard the words, and they sounded reasonable. She continued to
deliver her case, rapid fire, clearly afraid that I'd stop her again.
	"I looked into this registry thing. You can get on a list with
American Airlines and they'll put you on any flight at any time with only
twenty-four hours notice. Overbooked or not. It's expensive, but I've
arranged to have you, the kids, and myself on it so that in any event,
we're only twenty-four hours away from each other."
	"I can pay for half," I said quietly, trying to digest everything.
	"Consider it a peace offering," she replied. "If we work together,
we can make this whole thing work."
       I had no clue what to say. I mulled everything around for a minute,
trying to find the right response to everything she had laid out. I thought
about it for what felt like an eternity, and I finally made the decision
not to make the same mistake again.
	"I'll talk to CJ about it. And Chase. And I'll let you know."
	"Of course," she nodded. "Talk to them. But don't pretend like this
isn't what you want. I think this is best, so..."
	It was then and only then that I appreciated how difficult a
decision this was for Devon. I tried to remember how hard it had been for
me to make the same conclusion, that signing the kids away was the best
decision. I didn't think for a second that it was any easier for Devon.
	We finished up our chat, and I said my goodbyes. I asked Devon if I
could take Lizzy to lunch the following day, and she agreed to let me do
dinner. Friday was her last day and we were both certain she'd want to
spend it with her friends. I thought about suggesting a going away dinner
with all of us, but I figured that might be pushing it.
	I spent the drive home wondering where this sudden olive branch had
come from. I knew that Devon was doing what she considered
best. Easiest. But I couldn't help but wonder why. She didn't chicken out
simply because she realized our son was going through puberty and it was
awkward for her. Was she feeling guilty about the move? Did she realize
that forcing CJ to go was a huge punishment directed towards someone who
hadn't done anything wrong? Did she worry about me and what I would go
through watching my entire family pack up and walk away?
	Regardless of her reasons, it wasn't until I was turning into
Lemmon Square that I realized she was probably right. We could do this if
we worked together. It would be challenging, stressful, inconvenient. But
it was doable.
	And at that point, I considered doable the light at the end of a
very dark tunnel.
	When I walked into the apartment, I was greeted by the smell of
Italian take-out and the sound of CJ explaining a game to Chase.
	"Okay, when you go for a dive, make sure you extend your hands
first and then step forward. Your guy will have better placement that way,"
he said.
	"Okay, I got it. Let's kick Terry/Rosedale's ass!" I walked into
the living room right in time to see the high five. I turned to the TV and
saw they were playing virtual sand volleyball on one of CJ's game
consoles. Chase looked absolutely ridiculous with the wrist controls
straining around his hand.
	"Hey guys," I said, stepping in and setting my bag down.
	"Hey Dad."
	"Hi Coop."
	"There's food in the oven for you. Lasagna," CJ said.
	"Great," I replied. "How about after this game--"
	"--Get it!" CJ shouted over me.
	"--We turn the game off."
	"Dad, we're one match away from the Malibu Cup title. You have to
let us finish." His protest was half hearted as he passed the virtual ball
to a virtual Chase, who slammed it across a virtual net right in between
the members of team Terry/Rosedale. It wasn't a perfect kill, but it did
the trick.
	Instead of arguing, I let them finish. I put my things in the
bedroom and pulled out a plate of Lasagna from eatZi's.
	By the time I warmed it up and sat down at the bar to watch their
game, they'd beaten Terry/Rose. Chase walked over and gave me a kiss on the
forehead. CJ looked anxious to get the next match started.
	"Can we play one more before we shut it off, Dad?" he asked.
	"You can play all you want when your homework is done."
	"Dad, I'm done with school here tomorrow and I don't start in
Chicago for a week and a half. There's no point in turning anything in."
	"He knows I'm a teacher, right?" I asked Chase, who smiled and sat
down next to me.
	"Chase, don't you want to finish the tournament?"
	"Don't answer that," I interrupted before Chase had the chance. I
knew he would say yes and I couldn't believe the two were pitted against me
already.
	"Listen, you probably should go up and finish your homework,
because if you're up for it, your mom and I want to give you the option of
finishing the semester here. Maybe for the year."
	"Wait, what?"
	"Chicago isn't going anywhere, last I checked. If you want, and
it's totally up to you, you can stay here while your mom and sister get
settled in. You can go visit them whenever, get comfortable with the city,
check things out, and then eventually you can join them up there for good."
	"Wait... you and mom agreed on this?" he looked skeptical.
	"Yes, kiddo, we agreed. Now, go upstairs. I need to see if Chase is
okay with it too."
	"He's okay with it," CJ said confidently. He took the control bands
off his wrists and pointed at Chase. "You're okay with it." His tone was
playful if not a little threatening.
	"I guess I'm okay with it," he shrugged with a grin.
	"See. We're all done here."
	"Upstairs, homework. Let's go. Y'all will win the Malibu Cup after
homework time."
	Chase and I sat in silence watching my spitting image bound up the
stairs, the happiest I'd seen him in weeks.
	"Wow, gamin." Chase was the first to speak. "Color me surprised."
	"You should have seen my face when Devon suggested it."
	"She suggested it?" I nodded. "Okay, now I'm really shocked."
	"Look, I'm not sure where helping me raise a kid fits in to your
overall plan, but..."
	Chase interrupted me with a forceful kiss that almost knocked me
back from my barstool.
	"Don't say anything else. We're doing this." I smiled, nodded, and
pulled him in for another kiss.
	"Your life will change," I said, his lips still firmly on mine. He
kissed me deeply again, prying my lips apart with his tongue.
	"Maybe I'm ready for my life to change," he breathed into me. I
felt his two big hands take my plate of food out of my hands and set it
down. A second later, he pulled my head even closer to his, if that was
even humanly possible.
	"Ready for carpools?"
	"Mhmm..." he moaned.
	"Teenage gaming parties?" I asked, pulling away slightly.
	"Sure," he said, pulling me back in. I let him kiss me strongly for
another minute, the passion building right there between us, on two
barstools in the living room. Just when I thought I couldn't take it much
longer without my cock physically poking through my slacks, I pushed him
back by the chest, licked my lips, and smiled at him.
	"Not making out in common areas?"
	"I can handle anything you throw at me," Chase replied
confidently. Seeing him take the news in such slick stride filled me with
more love for the guy than I could have imagined. I leaned in for one more
kiss, only instead of making lip to lip contact, my lip hit Chase's
forefinger.
	"No making out, remember?" he said with a smirk.
	I bit down on my tongue and raised an eyebrow at him.
	"Oh, I see how you're going to play that. You'll pay for that one,"
I replied, pulling my plate back and diving back into my dinner.
	"I certainly hope so," he whispered. He got up, poured us two
glasses of wine, and forced me to retell exactly what Devon had said.
	CJ claimed to have finished all the work due on Friday by eight
o'clock. He bound down the stairs, pulled Chase away from our chat, and
forced him back onto the game. I retreated to the bar, spread out a stack
of student response papers, and forced myself to block out the noise and
accomplish some grading. By the sound of the back-ground racket, the two of
them won the Malibu Cup with the newly formed CarPal team and were off to
the Miami Tournament.
	Almost two hours and two tournaments later, I told CJ he needed to
get his things so I could drive him home for the night.
	"Can't I stay the night here?" he asked. "I have clothes for
tomorrow."
	"Kiddo, it's your last week with your mom and sister, so no. I'm
driving you home."
	I braced myself for a minor fit, but instead, he curled his lip,
took off his wrist controls, and went upstairs to pack up. When I returned
from Highland Park twenty minutes later, Chase was lying in bed, talking on
the phone. I noticed that his hair was wet and he had the bed cover pulled
up haphazardly to his bare chest.
	He smiled at me and held up a one minute finger at me. Instead of
sticking around and eavesdropping, I walked straight into the master bath,
took my clothes off, and hopped in for a quick shower. The only thing I
heard was the tail end of Chase asking whoever was on the phone to explain
something one more time.
	When I got out of the bathroom, Chase was sitting up on the edge of
the bed. His face was pensive and I could tell that whatever news had come
from the other end of the line wasn't good.
	"What's wrong?"
	He looked up and noticed me standing in front of him. I could
easily see the wheels in his head turn as he mulled through whatever was on
his mind.
	"Nothing," he said finally, shaking it off and forcing a
smile. "Everything is fine. We need to celebrate."
	Without giving me a chance to respond, he pulled me down on top of
him and moved his legs in between mine. My towel didn't last more than a
second before he had shoved it to the side and his boxers came tearing off.
	The speed with which Chase went from zero to sixty would have
alarmed me had it not been so hot. I let him push me onto my back and
forcefully slide on top of me, grinding our dicks to together, and rubbing
his big hands over my chest. I was sure that I was going to get some sort
of carpet burn by how hard Chase ground our bodies together, not releasing
my lips from his for a second. Before I knew it, he grunted softly and
pushed his cock against the entrance of my ass.
	"Mmmm," he said, biting down on my bottom lip and tweaking my
nipple roughly. "Let me in, babe."
	I wasn't totally relaxed and ready yet, so I moved my hips up
slowly and let his dick slide across my ass, teasing me open without going
in.
	"Mmmm," he moaned again, putting his strong hand under the small of
my back and pulling me up towards him. A second later, he buried down, the
entire weight of his body pushing down on me. I took in a deep breath and
felt his dick bury itself down to the hilt of my cock.
	It was fast, furious, and at first, a little painful. I was used to
him taking his time, spreading me open, starting off slow. But this was a
different Chase. A powerful Chase. A horny Chase.
	It didn't take long before the initial pain subsided and I was
thrusting upwards to meet his forceful penetration. As quickly as he'd
turned me around and entered, Chase pulled out, pulled me to the very edge
of the bed, stood before me, and pulled my legs up to his shoulder. He
smiled down at me, a wicked smile, and a second later, he plowed in for
position two.
	"Oh fuck..." he moaned loudly. It took me another minute to adjust,
but again, when I did, I met his passion with a fierceness of my own.
	"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." I repeated, trying my best to match his
intensity. As good as it felt to have him thrust in and out of me,
something about his cadence and rhythm continued to throw me.
	"Oh fuck..." he repeated over and over, grabbing onto my ankles and
pushing in and out at a pace I'd never felt before. It was awesome, new,
and different. Had I closed my eyes and let myself go, it could have been a
complete stranger fucking me.
	"Oh, Coop..." he shouted, his thrusts growing slower and
deeper. "Fuck!"
	And just like that, with the same speed he'd done everything else,
Chase came deep inside of me. He stood there for a second, smiled down at
me as traces of sweat fell down his face. He grasped my cock in his hands
and squeezed it roughly. His dick was still hard and inside of me, and it
didn't take long for him to milk my orgasm out. Still, I was only half
paying attention to how good it felt to finish and have him collapse on top
of my pool of cum, his sticky dick still tickling the outside of my
asshole.
	The other half of me was wondering where that display had come
from. Without saying anything, I stood up, walked to the bathroom and wiped
up. When I got back less than a minute later, Chase was on his side of the
bed, covers pulled, facing away from the middle.
	I crawled in behind him and wrapped my arm around his arm, taking
his hand in mine and weaving our fingers together. He let himself scoot in
close to me as I rested my chin at the small of his neck.
	I knew he wasn't asleep, but I still hesitated at first. After a
minute of letting our bodies slow down and our breathing temper, I asked
the question.
	"What was that phone call all about?"
	It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Whatever news
he'd received had propelled him into a fucking frenzy, one we both enjoyed,
but one that couldn't be ignored.
	"I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly. He pulled my hand
tighter around his and brought both of us up to his lips. He kissed my hand
and finally rested them against his chest.
	"Are you sure?"
	"When you say you don't want to talk about things, do I ask if
you're sure?" The words felt like he was snapping, but his voice was so
even keeled, I couldn't tell. Still, I recoiled. I felt myself physically
stiffen up behind him.
	Chase must have felt my body go hard against his, because he pulled
me in closer and took a deep breath.
	"It was a call from Morgan's treatment center," Chase said. His
voice remained as even as ever; if my hand hadn't had been directly over
his heart as it began to beat faster, I wouldn't have been able to tell
anything was wrong.
	I wanted to say something, but I couldn't figure out what. All I
could do was wait for him to tell me what they'd said on the other
line. And he did. After four seconds and a hundred chest beats, he finally
said the words.
	"He's disappeared, gamin. They can't find him. They have no clue
where he is."