Date: Fri, 5 Aug 2011 12:23:45 -0500
From: Jonothan Wolf <jwolf24450@gmail.com>
Subject: The Funny Thing Is... Chapter 5

**Standard disclaimer applies. All rights to this story belong to the
author. 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!

       The Funny Thing Is... I was prepared to give anything, but I wasn't
prepared to lose everything.

       When Chase came back into my life, I would have given anything to be
with him. There are those certain loves that change you so much, you would
do anything to keep them close. When I assessed the damage I had done, and
the walls began to crumble, it became perfectly clear I could lose
everything in the process. Even though I was prepared to give it up, I
never thought I would lose it all.

       **

       "Hey there, babe," Devon said walking into the office I'd just spent
too much money renovating. It was serene and calm. I could almost get the
voices of my editors from Knowles out of my head while I was in
there. "What are you doing?"

       "I'm writing," I said, taking my glasses off and looking up at
her. She nodded. She knew what writing meant. Three years prior, `writing'
had brought our marriage to the brink of collapse. I was writing again.

       She took in a deep breath. She looked tired and wilted, but even
without my reading glasses, I could see the beautiful face I'd fallen for
in college. She approached me slowly, wrapped a warm Oxford clad arm around
my chest and smelled my hair.

       "I will leave the master to his work," she whispered. She gave me a
kiss on the forehead and walked out. That night, I'd started writing The
List.

       Two years and twelve thousand edits later, I stared at the
manuscript at my desk at SMU. The manuscript itself had been shuffled back
and forth a dozen times. Whole sections had been stapled, ripped out,
reattached, taped over, marked out. Anything you can do to a piece of cold
hard paper had been done to my manuscript.

       And the first seventeen chapters were done. To me, they were
perfection. They were my story, whittled down to the core. The anecdotes
were hot. The emotions were real. The passion was transparent.

       The last six chapters still had every original editing note from my
team at Knowles. The publisher's notes were bookmarked by green sticky
notes. My editor's comments were marked with blue. Everything I needed to
change was highlighted in a nauseating pink highlighter. The first
seventeen chapters were done. The last six, however, hadn't been touched
for two years.

       My phone rang, startling me out of whatever trance I had been
in. Simply getting the manuscript out again was enough triumph for one
day. I'd work on opening the damn thing after the phone call.

       "Coop, we really need to talk," Kyle's voiced boomed before I could
even say hello. He still had lawyer voice on. "How soon can you be here?"

       "I get out of class at 3:50," I said, not taking the time to figure
out what had Kyle so riled up. "I can be there by quarter after, depending
on traffic."

       "Good, that's perfect," Kyle said. I could hear him typing, probably
clearing everything out after four.

       I hung up, nagged by what was so urgent that Kyle had to call me and
cancel his whole afternoon. It surely couldn't be about our reunion the day
before. He'd closed the book on talking about that, at least for the time
being.

       I ran through the motions for my writing seminar class and then
hustled through my lecture for Intro to LGBT Lit, shaving a couple minutes
from my morning time. I was anxious to get to Kyle's to see what he wanted.

       "Let's meet in here," Kyle said when I arrived at the pristine
offices of Wriggs and Streck. Kyle ushered me into the firm's legendary War
Room where the top billing lawyers talked strategy with their clients and
negotiated ball busting settlements from their opponents. The room wasn't
large; it could comfortably seat six around a rectangular table. What made
it so intimidating were the two large Sigma placards on the wall.

       The one on the left had the Emeritus seal and was just slightly
bigger than Kyle's on the right. The Greek wall hangings peppered many of
the offices at Wriggs and Streck, but these two were larger and much more
significant than any of the rest.

       "Have a seat," Kyle said, his face serious. His jacket was off and
his sleeves rolled up; I could tell it had already been a long day.

       "What's up?" I asked, sitting down and putting my briefcase on the
table.

       "Okay, Coop, I don't want to freak you out, but I looked at the
packet that you sent over this morning," he started. I listened intently,
positive this was about to enter legal jargon territory and I'd need every
wit about me in order to keep up. "Evidently, Devon isn't just filing for a
divorce."

       "What else does she want?"

       "Coop, she's requesting a restraining order on you for the property
in Highland Park and one against you for CJ and Liz."

       The words hit me like a ton of bricks. What did that even mean? How
could she get a restraining order on me? I wasn't dangerous. I had done
nothing to put my children or my home in harm's way.

       "This is ludicrous," I said, picking up the blue backed forms and
pretending to understand what the underlined words Temporary Divorce Order
meant.

       "It's not typical, but it isn't totally unheard of," Kyle
said. "Basically, what Devon is asking for when you appear tomorrow is for
the judge to grant a temporary divorce settlement. It'll lean heavily on
her maternal rights, but basically, she'll argue to keep you away from the
kids and the house until everything is hammered out and finalized."

       "And how long does it take to hammer things out, Kyle?" I asked,
aware that my attitude was directed at the wrong person.

       "Usually, when these things are filed, it's because the other party
wants a long and thorough process," he said. He bit his top lip and let
that sentence sink in. I didn't want a process, I thought. I wanted to sign
a paper and be done with everything. Devon could have it all; even I knew
she deserved it. I wasn't interested in fighting over things. But I wasn't
going to sit back and let her keep me away from my kids for God knew how
long.

       "What does she want?" I asked, my voice even, but my blood boiling
hotter than none other.

       "I wish I knew," Kyle replied. "I spent all afternoon talking to our
divorce specialist here at the firm and he hasn't seen a filing like this
that didn't involve a custody blood bath."

       The look in Kyle's eyes was more than a warning. He knew what sort
of fight I was in for even if I couldn't quite grasp it yet. All I knew is
that Devon was out for blood, and if she thought I was going to cower with
my tail between my legs, regardless of what we'd been through, she was dead
wrong.

       I took in a deep breath. "Kyle, what the hell do I do?" I asked, my
eyes big and my heart beginning to race.

       "Tomorrow is not going to be pretty, I can tell you that," Kyle
said, leaning back. "These things almost always swing the petitioner's way
if they can prove even the slightest cause that you'll be a problem during
the divorce. The catch is, if they get this thing passed tomorrow, you'll
be starting at a deficit when we go into final arbitration."

       The words were getting bigger and my mind was growing smaller by the
second. I could usually keep up with the legalese whenever Kyle got going,
but that afternoon, I was too upset to translate. All I saw was the
doomsday look on my friend's face and it scared me.

       I stood up with a start, freaking Kyle out enough to scoot back in
his chair.

       "Where are you going?"

       "To see Devon," I replied. I wondered what my face looked like
then. Probably splotchy with bloodshot eyes and saliva dripping from the
corner of my mouth. Whatever I looked like, it wasn't pretty.

       "That would be a huge mistake," Kyle said standing. In a small guy
maneuver, he sidestepped me and cut me off from the door.

       "Kyle, I will remove you," I promised.

       "Coop, if you go over there, not only will this temporary injunction
be justified, but this incident will go at the top of the discovery stack,"
Kyle said. "You have got to play carefully from now on."

       I looked down at him. He was only a couple inches shorter, but in my
state, it felt like he was a midget. I was angry enough to swat him out of
the way and have a heart to heart with my soon-to-be-ex-wife, but he was
right. I couldn't give her any justification over this. She would look like
an idiot when a judge saw how opposite of dangerous I was.

       "Kyle, tell me what do then," I said.

       "Here," he said, handing me a key. "Have a bath and eat something. I
will finish up here, figure out exactly what to do tomorrow and I'll be
over later."

       He smiled up at me, put his hand on my arm and said, "Coop, it's
gonna be alright, okay?" It was a complete one-eighty from the last time we
met to discuss my divorce, and I was glad about it. I went in slightly,
clearly for a kiss, and Kyle turned his head towards the door and pulled it
open. I nodded to myself at the gesture, and slightly embarrassed, but
still reeling with rage, I walked out of the impressive law offices of
Wriggs and Streck.

       Forty minutes and one stop at Whole Food's later, I let myself into
Kyle's apartment in Victory Park carrying a frozen pizza and a bottle of
Pinot Grigio. It felt better than going to my new place, which I knew was
completely empty. At least at Kyle's, I had the spirit of someone else
around me. My new apartment was haunted by the Ghost of Chase Past and his
stupid apology flowers.

       I sat on Kyle's plush bed, sipping a glass of wine, and thinking
about my latest predicament. How dare Devon paint me out to be an unfit
parent? I knew that what I had done wasn't ideal, for anyone it turned out,
but there was no way she could demonstrate that I wasn't a good father.

       In as long as I had been a dad, my kids had always come first. Not
once did I miss a karate showcase or a football game. I was at every single
one of their talent shows and awards days, most times I was the
embarrassing parent who cheered too loud and had an outdated digital 2D
camera. Those things counted, and Devon couldn't take that away from
me. Whatever fight she was gearing up for, I wasn't going to fade away that
easily. I may have been a shitty husband, but I was a good dad.

       One bath and a bottle of wine later, I took my pity party of one to
Kyle's bed and snuggled in. I peeked at the clock noticing it was well past
midnight, and he wasn't home yet. I felt bad that my case had fucked up his
work load so much. Balancing my thoughts between my kids and Kyle, I dozed
off almost as soon as I hit the goose down hay.

       I didn't wake up until morning when I hazily saw a naked Kyle pull
on a pair of underwear and slacks. He hadn't shaved since last night and
his five o'clock stubble grew in sexily on his face.

       "Morning, sleeping beauty," he said to me as I sat up and massaged
my temple. My piercing headache required water, aspirin and a run, in that
order.

       "What time did you get home last night?" I asked, aware of how I
phrased the question.

	Home.

       "I actually, didn't come home last night," Kyle said. He slipped on
a crisp white shirt from his immaculately organized closet. My first
instinct was that he'd stayed at the office working all night. A pang of
guilt flashed over me.

       "Kyle you didn't have to stay up working—"

       "I went to Winston's after work and fell asleep," he said, turning
and facing me. He pulled a red tie down from his tie hanger and
nonchalantly did the first knot. "Are you going to say anything?"

       I shook my head. "What is there to say?" I stood up and walked to
Kyle's bathroom. I stood there peeing, the whole time willing myself not to
be upset. I had no right to be upset whatsoever. I was Hurricane Cooper. If
anyone should have been upset, it was the innocents that were getting
destroyed and dumped in the wreckage.

       But it wasn't that simple. I was upset. I was upset that Kyle was
being so nice about this whole thing. I was upset that I had misinterpreted
that niceness. I was upset that I was the fragile one and he was the one
with his emotions in check. I was used to being in control of my
feelings. This whole tailspin, courtesy of Chase, was new territory for me.

       "Are you mad?" Kyle asked peeking in. I focused on my stream of
urine instead of looking up at him.

       "No, not at all," I replied convincingly. I shook it off,
figuratively and physically. "I guess you had to go over there and explain
the other night, right?"

       "Yeah," Kyle said noncommittally, like he hadn't heard my
question. We met at the sink. "I'm thinking of keeping the shadow. What do
you think?"

       Was he really asking me about facial hair in the same breath he
mentioned a sleepover with his hot and cold boyfriend?

       "You're already dressed, so you obviously won't shave it now," I
replied shortly. I turned and walked back into the master bedroom,
continuing my string of un-upset thoughts. I thought about picking an
argument for argument's sake. It would make it easier to be upset over
something justified rather than being upset over Kyle's rightful boyfriend
and the fact that he'd spent the night with him. I wanted to slap myself in
the face for being so stupid and sleeping with him in the first place. I'd
held out for twenty years, why was the other night so difficult?

       Kyle went to work without another word. I rummaged around his
fridge, had a bowl of cereal and then went out for a run. At noon, Mason
called to tell me that the powers that be at Knowles were one step away
from pulling the deal if I didn't get my edits back to my team immediately.

       "How about this," I replied over the phone, too agitated to
reason. "Why don't you go by my office on campus, take the manuscript and
take what I've done so far. It's only the end that hasn't been edited."

       "And when do you plan on editing the Chase chapters?" Mason asked, a
hint of bitterness in his voice.

       "I honestly don't know, Mase, but do what you have to, to get them
off my back, please. Thank you," I replied. I hung up without saying
goodbye.

       The impending hearing worked on my nerves like a hooker on Arapaho
and Plano Parkway. The picture Kyle had painted was worse than grim. What
if I couldn't see my kids until after the divorce? And even if then? What
if they grew up knowing a shadow of their father; a memory of who I was?
Remembering me as the guy who jumped and let some other man catch his fall?
I couldn't lose them for good. That wasn't an option.

       And while I sat around angry at Devon for what she was doing, I felt
something I hadn't felt in a very long time: regret. It was hard to believe
that this was all worth it. The court appearances, the moving, the feeling
like nothing I did was ever right. I resented Chase so much for sparking
this situation. And while I had been waiting for a catalyst for a long
time, this divorce was something I'd seen coming for at least three
years. Being angry at Chase was my escape from being angry at myself.

       Two hours and two outfit changes later, Spencer called just as I was
looking around Kyle's kitchen for my keys.

       "Come downstairs," he said plainly.

       "You're here?"

       "No Sherlock, I'm in Waxahachie," he replied sarcastically. "Come
on. You don't want to be late."

       I grabbed my coat, locked up Kyle's apartment and hustled
downstairs. Spencer sat, glasses perched, in his beautiful black drop top
Mercedes, a perfect summer car, and one that upped his sexiness level by at
least six points.

       "Did Kyle send for you?" I asked.

       "He told us the situation and we're here for moral support," Spencer
replied.

       "Bass too?"

       "He's meeting us at the courthouse. Between you and me, I think he
and Britney are taking separate cars there, if you know what I mean."

       I did. I swallowed a pang of guilt at the tension I must have
created in their household because I'd decided to tear mine down. I pulled
my shades over my eyes and sat silently as Spencer sped down Stemmons
Freeway towards the courthouse on Commerce Street.

       When I arrived, I was greeted by Kyle and Sebastian in a little room
off to the left of the main marble hall. From the little tiny window on the
side wall, I could see the top of the rotunda of the main courthouse across
the plaza.

       "Okay, Cooper," Kyle said with confidence. "This is going to be
fairly quick. The key from you is to not say anything. No matter how heated
it gets in there, let me do all the talking, got it?"

       "Okay," I said. "Are they going to call me as a witness or
anything?"

       "Absolutely not," Kyle said. "The judge might ask you a couple of
questions about the situation at home, but there won't be any real
testifying. Just whisper the answer to me, and I'll give you the go ahead
to respond. Otherwise, I'll tell the judge that you have no useful
comment."

       "Okay," I said, shaking my nerves.

       "You look good, buddy," Sebastian said to me as I tried to calm
down.

       "Thanks," I replied. "Thanks for being here." I stressed the word
here. He could have very well been across the hall and it would have been
much easier for him. I appreciated the support.

       "You ready?" Kyle asked, pulling me through the door by the small of
my pin striped back.

       I was surprised at how calm Kyle was, but I supposed this was his
element. I took in a deep breath, and few minutes later, I followed him
into a small chamber.

       I immediately disregarded everything I'd seen on TV or in
movies. The room we entered was a small closet with a large, imposing desk
to the far side. In front of the desk were four chairs. Behind those chairs
was a little standing area and then three rows of seating. The seating area
could be divided from the front area by a pull wall. Finally, there was a
water dispenser and little plastic cups to one side.

       When we entered, Devon, Britney, and Devon's lawyer Kimberly
Franklin were already there. I knew Kimberly from the time Devon was
setting up her practice. From what I remembered, the lady was a ball buster
in negotiations and a bitch as tough as nails.

       I smiled at Devon and she made brief eye contact before turning back
to Britney. She whispered something and the two hugged. I noticed Britney
carrying a few tissues in her hand and my heart sank.

       Kyle, Spencer, Sebastian and I filed in slowly and immediately
claimed the right side of the discovery chamber. There wasn't any place for
Kyle to set up shop, so he just pulled one of the chairs from the viewing
gallery and opened his briefcase on it.

       "Kyle Wriggs," Kim's voice boomed as if she was at a softball
game. "I'm surprised you aren't working on your angle towards city
hall. Slumming it here in county court with the rest of us, are you?"

       "It's good to see you too, Kimberly," Kyle replied, offering a
hand. Angle towards city hall? What did that even mean?

       "Tell Jason I said hello," she smiled.

       "Only because you asked me so nicely," Kyle replied. They shared a
strange glance right before the judge walked in.

       The judge was dressed in slacks and a shirt and had clearly visible
sweat stains under his arm.

       "Pretend this is on, folks," he boomed in a velvety southern voice,
shuffling passed us all and draping his black robe over the back of his
folding chair. He sat down, clicked through his electronic tablet and
scanned the docket.

       "So what do we have here? Mizz Devon Ward is filing a petition
against you, Mr. Carpenter," the judge said. He dropped the last `r' in
Carpenter, and if I hadn't been so terrified of him, I would have
swooned. I nodded feebly. "Let me start by saying I am terribly sorry for
this unfortunate circumstance. Having been divorced twice myself, I know
what you two must be going through."

       I looked over at Devon and she looked like she was at an estate
hearing. Her arms were folded, her lips were taut and she looked straight
ahead. Her skin was pale against a stylish black suit. Her hair was pulled
back so severely, I thought it probably hurt every time she blinked. She
looked beautiful but tough, a force to be reckoned with.

       "Now then, Mizz Ward, you are also filing for a temporary divorce
order. On what grounds are you filing this order, ma'am?"

       "Your honor, my client would like a temporary divorce order issued
because the defendant has shown repeated disregard for his children's
welfare and wellbeing and Ms. Ward anticipates his irrational behavior to
continue into the divorce proceedings."

       "I'll need to see proof of that before I issue the order, Mizz
Franklin, you know that," the judge replied.

       "Yes your honor," Kimberly proceeded confidently. "Right here I have
a truancy filing from Cooper James Junior's school. It appears that the
defendant withdrew Cooper James from class early this past Friday in order
to spend the afternoon gallivanting around town when CJ should have been
completing his science examination. Not only was CJ penalized with after
school detention, he also failed the test, your honor."

       "We weren't gallivanting," I whispered to Kyle.

       "With all due respect, your honor, one truancy incident doesn't
warrant a temporary divorce order, especially an order as severe as this
one. This incident was harmless," Kyle said in an effected voice. His
lawyer voice was confident and straightforward. It always amazed me.

       "I tend to agree with defense counsel, Mizz Franklin," the judge
replied. He peered at her through his glasses if to ask what else she had
up her sleeves.

       "Your honor, the defendant has also taken up residence with his
partner, Chase Pallendrino. Mr. Pallendrino was the defendant's lover
before the defendant even requested a divorce. Both Mr. Pallendrino and
Mr. Carpenter are local celebrities, your honor. My client believes such a
living arrangement is unsuitable for her children's well being," Franklin
replied. She gave me and Kyle a sideways glance.

       "Is she kidding?" I asked, louder than I intended.

       "I beg your pardon, Mr. Carpenter?"

       "Um, nothing, your honor," I stammered. "But, um, Ms. Frankel,
Franklin... over there... is completely wrong. I have not taken up
residence with anyone, let alone my lover or partner or whatever obtuse
phrase she used."

       "Do you deny moving in with your little boyfriend, Mr. Carpenter?"
the judge peered at me, stressing little boyfriend in a way I knew wasn't
tolerant.

       I whispered `I deny it' to Kyle and Kyle repeated what I said to the
judge.

       "Anything else, Ms. Franklin?"

       "We have one other thing, your honor," Franklin said, reaching into
her briefcase and producing a manila envelope. "My client is not interested
in making an issue of her ex-husband's sexuality, however, we do have
records of several of the defendant's boyfriends. Here you'll see phone
records with salacious text messages to three different accounts, graphic
photographs with the defendant and three different men. We've learned that
the photographs correspond with the phone records, your honor."

       "Bullshit," I blurted before I could stop myself.

       "Counselor, control your client," the judge said flippantly, looking
through the stack. I caught a glimpse of a picture of me sitting in the
front seat of a car with a guy I'd randomly hooked up with years ago.

       "Those are ancient, Dev," I said across the room.

       "Cooper," Kyle said. Sebastian put his hand on my shoulder.

       "How long have you been preparing for this? How long have you been
waiting for me to screw up?"

       "Wriggs," the judge raised his voice.

       "Your honor, we'd like to submit the defendant's uncontrollable
temper as another reason to grant the order," Kim added sarcastically. I
rolled my eyes and fought the urge to call her a shrewish cunt.

       "You've got to be kidding me," I said instead.

       The judge slammed the file shut. "One more word out of you, sir, and
I will hold you in contempt of this court. I will not sit around and listen
to your outbursts. Now, Mr. Wriggs, either you control your client or we're
through here."

       Kyle turned to me. "If you don't shut up right now, they will take
your kids away and throw you in jail."

       I took in a deep breath. My lips quivered and I blinked slowly. I
looked across the room and shook my head at Devon.

       For the next forty minutes, I sat quietly and listened to Kimberly
Franklin, ball buster extraordinaire, share the details of my sex life, my
drinking habits, my work schedule and my lack of regard to any sort of
familial lifestyle. The clincher was her theory that as a local celebrity,
I would have paparazzi chronicling the divorce and putting the children in
harm's way.

        Kyle countered and denied. He stressed that my apartment was in
both kid's school zone so there was no reason I shouldn't be able to see
them during the week. He reminded Judge Sizemore that for several years, I
worked from home and was practically a stay at home dad, while Devon worked
70 hours a week to build a clinic. He also told the judge that I was a
local celebrity, yes, but Dallas wasn't exactly crawling with tabloid
magazines and dangerous photographers.

       I checked my emotions for the most part. I didn't lose it again
until the judge issued his decision.

       "In cases like this, where the press is likely to get involved, I
tend to err on the side of caution. Also, Ms. Franklin has demonstrated the
questionable lifestyle choices the defendant has participated in, in the
past. For this reason, I will issue the temporary divorce order, granting
Mizz Ward full custody of Elizabeth and Cooper James Carpenter."

       "No," I whispered. I heard Spencer take in a deep breath.

       "Mr. Carpenter will receive supervised visitation rights on the
second and fourth weekend of every month, to begin at five p.m. on Friday
and to end at five p.m. on Sunday, and only while Mizz Ward or a designated
proxy is present unless she chooses to waive this right."

       I put my hand to my mouth and swallowed hard. The swift arm of
judgment slapping me across the face hurt harder than any hit Chase could
have dealt.

       "Mr. Carpenter will refrain from contacting his children directly or
indirectly, whether it be at their home or school. Especially while they're
at school, Mr. Carpenter. I will allow council to reach an agreement on
child and spousal support for the duration of the proceedings upon
reviewing financial records. If said agreement cannot be reached by Friday,
I will issue another statement. Does everyone understand?"

       He finished talking and I sat there like I'd been punch in the
gut. Repeatedly. I wanted to roll over and die. And then I remembered that
this whole injunction was going to last until after the divorce.

       Everyone stood around me in a sort of eerie quiet. Devon and Britney
hugged. Kim smiled at them like a fucking cheerleading whore. I turned
around to see sad faces painted on Spencer and Sebastian, and Kyle was busy
putting his files away. I was glad the judge had left so quickly because I
had half a mind to cuss him out.

       "Coop, I'm sorry," Spencer said quietly.

       "I don't even know what to say," Sebastian added.

       "Say something that'll get me my kids back," I snapped. I was
completely aware that I was in dick mode, but I didn't care.

       "Coop, come on," Spence said. He grabbed my arm and I began to
simmer down. I looked into Spencer's eyes with a pleading that I had never
experienced before. What the fuck was I going to do? I felt pressed into a
corner. Trapped and helpless. I needed him to say something, and no one was
saying anything. In that moment, I missed Chase immensely. He always knew
what to say.

       All of a sudden, I caught a flash of Devon out of the corner of my
eye and my blood boiled.

       "I hope you're fucking happy," I said before I could even think
about it. Britney and Kim led her toward the exit as she put her sunglasses
back on.

       "None of this makes me happy, you bastard," she said in an eerily
low voice. I saw Britney and Sebastian exchange a glance. He was totally
sleeping on the couch that night. His defeated shrug was another reminder
of a relationship I had a steady hand in fucking up.

       "You got what you wanted, Dev," I said, matching her tone and her
grit. "Take the rest, why don't you? Have it all."

       "Coop, you're way out of line, buddy," Sebastian said, reaching his
arm out to me.

       "You can leave me the fuck alone," I shouted. I was irate. Livid. I
was a thesaurus of words for angry. Never in my wildest dreams did I think
I would be standing there waiting on my wife to tell me when I could go see
my kids. "Just tell me one, thing. One thing, please. How long have you
been gearing up for this?"

       Devon bit the side of her mouth. She squared to face me full
on. Even with her smaller stature and sunglasses on, she looked
intimidating. This was a woman who didn't mess around.

       "Cooper James Carpenter, I am not a stupid woman, so get that out of
your mind right now," she said in a calm and collected voice that made me
want to punch a wall. "You had every single opportunity to make this
work. To help me build a home for our family and you walked out on that for
someone who walked out on you."

       I raised my hand and clutched it in a fist in front of my gritted
teeth. If I had been raised in an even slightly less refined home, I would
have been charged with assault that very afternoon. Instead I shook my red
hot head and gritted my teeth.

       "You know damn well that I always loved my children. I will always
love my children," I pled.

       Devon shrugged like she always did when she'd won and there was
nothing else that could be done.

       "You made your choice, Cooper," she said. "I don't know what you
want me to say. You chose Chase over this family and there is no turning
back."

       This had to be happening to someone else, I thought. This had to be
happening on a screen somewhere. It couldn't be happening to me. As the
trio dressed in black walked out of the chamber, I slammed my fist against
the chair I had been sitting in and it went flying.

       "Guys, I'll take him home," Kyle said, standing behind me and
putting an arm around my shoulder. "Let's go, Coop."

       I took in a deep breath as we all turned towards the door.

       "Bass, I'm sorry," I said. He turned to me and offered a weak
smile. "For everything."

       "I know," he replied.

       Half an hour and one pit stop at Wriggs and Streck later, I walked
up the stairs to Kyle's apartment. I was simultaneously wired and
drained. I had no idea what to do. I had no clue where to begin to feel. I
was pissed at everyone only a fraction of how much I was pissed at myself.

       "Want something to eat?" Kyle asked; they were his first words since
we left the courthouse.

       "What'd you say?" I asked.

       "Want something to eat?" his eyes widened as he undid his tie and
tossed it on the couch.

       "Coop, tell me what happened?" she asked. I was standing at her door
and it was pouring rain behind me. It was the first rain of the fall,
ending a near record three month drought. It was just my luck that it
rained on the night I told Chase I never wanted to see him again.

       "He's gone, Dev," I said, the water dripping down my face. "He left
for London and I swear he's never coming back."

       Of the water on my face, I'm sure she couldn't tell which was rain
and which was tear.

       "Come inside," she said, physically pulling me inside her apartment
she shared with three other Kappas. "You look a mess."

       "What am I gonna do?" I asked her, dripping all over their floor. I
saw Britney peek out of her door and then close it quickly once she saw it
was me.

       "I don't know what you're gonna do tomorrow or the day after, but
you're gonna stay here tonight," Devon said. She turned away from me and I
followed like a sick wet dog. "Go to my room and get out of those
cloths. My Peruna sweats should fit you."

       I slowly did what she said. As I entered her bedroom, I heard her
call, "Cooper, do you want something to eat?"

       "No I'm fine," I told Kyle.

       "Coop, this is far from over," he said reassuringly. He was down to
his slacks and undershirt, and even I had to admit his stubble looked
cute. "I know you don't see that now, but let me tell you, what. This is
far from over."

       I nodded once. Kyle took a step towards me. I nodded again. Another
step and Kyle was right in front of me. He wrapped his arms around me and
pulled me in. I felt like a statue, unable to move, and with no real desire
to anyway.

       "Come on," Kyle whispered after a solid embrace. He pulled me by the
wrist to his bedroom. I stopped just inside the door.

       A million things raced through my mind. I wondered where CJ was at
that moment. It was after five on a Tuesday, so he probably had cross
country practice. Liz was no doubt at cheer practice, if not already home
going over her routines with Gil or all by herself.

       Kyle peeled my jacket off and tossed in the general direction of his
closet.

       "Everything is going to work out," he whispered directly into my ear
as he lifted the back of my shirt out of my pants. I continued to stare
straight ahead, as slowly, one article after another, Kyle stripped us both
down to our boxers.

       "Cooper, nothing has to happen tonight," he said, using the term
`night' loosely. The sun was still a couple hours from setting, but I was
ready for the worst day of my life to be over.

       "Kyle," I said, my first words in ages. I ran my hand up his front
and rested it on his chest. I looked really deep into his eyes, trying to
assess if this is what he wanted or not. If I had seen even a hint of
hesitation in his eyes, I would have said no and gone to bed.

      Instead, I leaned down and I kissed Kyle for the third time in as
many days. It wasn't exactly what I wanted. I didn't want Kyle to file me
away in his `Careful' file or to be doing it with me because of my tragic
state. I didn't want to need him. But my sheer hurtle into onset depression
made it impossible to let go of him.

      The kiss itself was electric. Even after all of these years, he knew
exactly what buttons to push to pull me in and get me over. We took a step
back and I landed directly over Kyle. My hair, which had been neglected for
one too many weeks, hung just over my forehead. Kyle pushed it back and
smiled at me. And that's when I saw the entire message in his eyes.

      "Kyle, babe, can we just go to sleep?" I asked softly.

	He nodded.

	"Thank you," I said, lying down next to him. This wasn't how I
wanted it to go. If, indeed, I was planning on doing this with Kyle, I
needed to claw my way out of his `do not trust' pile and make a solid
effort. I didn't want the only times we made love to correspond with life's
biggest tragedy. He deserved better, and I was determined to give it to
him.

	He scooted in next to me and put his hands behind his head, facing
the ceiling. I would have given every penny in the world for just one of
Kyle's thoughts.

	"Kyle."

	"Yeah?" he asked, turning his head to face the back of mine.

	"Would you hold me, please?"

	"Of course, babe," he whispered. A minute later, I felt Kyle wrap
his small but hard arms around me. Instinctively, he found my fingers and
intertwined them with his.

       I fell asleep seconds later while Kyle played with my fingers and
matched my breathing.

	 It was the first time all day I felt like things might actually be
alright.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. More to come next week. As always, comments
and reviews are the only currency for Nifty writers, so your feedback good
or bad would be greatly appreciated. Also, let me know if you'd like to be
included in the mailing list. Contact me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Thanks
again for reading my story!