Date: Sun, 2 Mar 2003 15:14:49 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 41 of "Ambush"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If
you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in
a location where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed
in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to
other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 41
Redemption and Absolution

Ron Hamilton was leaving Francini's Restaurant after dinner with
Tim Minor. He was still amazed at Tim's genuine apology for
dumping him years ago.  He not only felt vindicated; he also
felt a little uplifted.  Some former friends of Tim's had
stopped by their booth to catch up with what was happening in
his new life.  Since Ron wanted to attend Templeton High's
basketball game that evening, he politely took his leave with
both Tim and him promising to keep in touch.  Ron still felt
warmed by the pleading look in Tim's eyes about maintaining
contact.  As Ron reached the foyer, Tony Francini hailed him
from across one of the dining rooms.  Ron waited while Tony
hustled over.  "What's up?" Ron asked.

Tony began without preamble.  "Evan stopped in for dinner this
evening.  I told him that Tim and you were dining together
here."

Ron frowned.  'I'll bet Evan's demons are dancing now,' he
thought.  "Is he still here?"

"No, he shot out the door when I told him."

"Did he say anything?"

"No. . . . thought maybe you two would want to connect."

"Yeah," Ron said, pondering what he ought to do.  "Thanks, Tony.
I'll take care of it.  I appreciate your telling me."

"You know Angela and I care about you guys, right?" Tony asked,
his brows raised in question.

"Yes, we know."  Ron smiled reassurance to Tony.  "Talk to you
soon," Ron said as he turned to leave.

Since he wanted to make the ball game, he decided he'd hustle
over to Evan's. He didn't want Evan tearing himself down any
longer than necessary.  Ron's intimate experience with Evan
assured him that Evan was presently engaged in that very
activity.  Maybe he could lure Evan to the ballgame.

As Ron was driving the route to Evan's home, he tried to figure
out what Evan was thinking so that he'd know how to reassure
him.  When Evan answered the door and saw Ron there, his head
cocked to the side as though to say, "I can't believe this."
Ron noticed that the customary smile was missing.  Evan opened
the glass screen door.  "Hey.  Come in."

Ron moved inside and into the sunroom.  Evan followed.  Ron took
a seat. "Tony told me you'd come by for dinner."

"Oh . . ." Evan said, "of course.  I should have known."

"Don't read conspiracies into this, Evan.  Tony told me because
he wanted us to talk."

Evan's chin had raised a little, both of the men recognizing
that Ron had correctly identified Evan's mindset.  "I have to
observe the irony here," Evan began.  "We hardly talk about
anything anymore.  But let Tim Minor come to town, and we NEED
to talk.  I feel no compunction to discuss Tim."

Ron decided not to reply to that remark.  "You never returned
Tim's call a few weeks ago."

"I didn't see that we had anything to discuss."

"He wanted to tell you about the conference his office was
holding here in town."

"I'd already heard about it.  Mary Ellen Branson gushed it out
one day in the Main Office."

"Tim didn't know that."

"I also had a feeling that the conference wouldn't be the only
topic of conversation.  I didn't need any more of Tim's barbs,
tricks, or witticisms."

"He's changed, Evan.  I saw it at dinner this evening."  Evan
couldn't block the skepticism that moved over his face upon
Ron's announcement.  Ron realized he'd have to start stepping
carefully.  This conversation was a minefield.  "He's actually
different, Evan."  Before he could react, Ron held up his hand
to stop a retort.  "I know what you're thinking and feeling.
I've been there too.  That's why he really wants to talk to you.
He cares a good bit about this conference, but what he
really wants to talk to you about is the way he's changed."

"I don't put much stock in sudden conversions experienced by
certain types of people."

"Please, Evan, hear him out.  I don't ask for him although
you'll be doing him a good turn if you listen to him.  I know
you may not be interested in doing Tim ANY good, but later you
will be glad you two met this weekend to talk.  I'm asking for
you.  You may be touchy, temperamental, and impatient . . ." At
this point Evan's head reared back:  what Ron said was true, but
he didn't like having it pointed out.

"Gee, thanks for the compliment.  Why do I feel chastened?  Oh!
How stupid of me!" Evan postured.  "Circumstances always run
amuck when Tim's around." Ron frowned.  Evan looked so damned
cute, tossing his head defiantly like that. Ron knew that, given
the events at the restaurant, in Evan's mind it was Halsey
against the world, prompted by fear.  Finally, when it was clear
Ron was not going to reply to his challenge, Evan relented.
It seemed that all the fire and life had gone out of him as he
melted back into his chair.

"I was going to say that you have a good heart.  You crave
justice and practice fairness, so let them come visit you in the
person of Tim."

"So you're recommending that I see him?  He hasn't even called
me since he got to town."

"He will.  I don't know when, but he will.  See him, Evan.  You
won't be sorry. Can't you tell by my behavior that it was good
for me to hear what he had to say? He ditched me the same way he
did you, you know."

"Yes," Evan said emotionlessly.  "I have to ask.  Tim and you
aren't starting up again?"

Ron frowned.  Yeah, the demons had been dancing, and Evan had
joined right in with the drum beat.  "You know better than that.
I love you, Evan, not Tim.  How can you imagine that I would be
interested in Tim after all this time and after you?"

Evan looked humbled.  "Sorry."  He said, looking off into space.
"You know that there hasn't been much going on between you and
me.  To be honest, I feel that what we had is slipping away.  So
it's easy for me to believe the worst."

Ron jumped up and walked to Evan, lifting him out of his chair
and pulling him into a gentle but fervent kiss, his hand holding
the back of Evan's head.  He broke the kiss, looking into Evan's
eyes, which had taken on a dreamy look.  Ron smiled, especially
after Evan's complaint.  "Horny, are we?"

Evan's eyes fired immediately.  "You phony prick!" Evan said
accusatorily, stepping back out of Ron's arms and away from him.
"There's a sheen of sweat above your upper lip that wasn't there
when you arrived.  You're just as horny as I am."  Ron saw Evan
attempting to block a smile that wanted to be born.

"Really checking me out closely, aren't you?  Damn, I love you,
Evan."  Ron grabbed Evan none too gently, pulling him into a
tight hug and mashing his mouth on Evan's.  Then he broke the
kiss as rapidly as he started it.  "I have hormones, you know.
You turn me on!  But Evan . . . Evan . . ." he said with
increasing softness, "I love you, man.  I love you!  You!  It's
not just sex anymore.  It's way beyond that.  We're almost
there.  Can't you feel it?"

Evan sucked in a breath.  "When you talk to me like that I do,"
he said, a little breathlessly.  "Maybe we need to talk more
often.

"That's a two-way street, you know.  In that vein, come to the
game with me.  Templeton plays Pratt.  It'll be a good match.
It'll be good to be together."

"I know about the game.  I had dinner with Miles and Jim at the
cafeteria.  They were eating before the game.  I'd love to see
it, but I'm bushed.  Too much baggage from this evening.  If I
did attend, I might actually tune in to a third of the game - if
I were lucky.  And if I saw Tim there, he might want to talk.  I
wouldn't want to do that at a ballgame.  How about the next
game?"

Ron could tell that Evan wasn't just begging off.  He was being
honest.  "Okay, Babe.  Next game.  I'll hold you to it."  He
stood and walked to the front door. Evan followed.  When they
paused, Ron pulled Evan into another gentle, warm kiss.  They
held it so long Ron could feel Evan trembling a little.  'Yeah,'
he thought, "it's" working for us.'

				***

Evan had retreated to the sunroom with a glass of Shiraz to
contemplate the evening and try to sort out his feelings.  It felt
as though he'd been on a roller coaster.  He was out of sorts with
himself because he'd summoned that roller coaster and climbed on
himself.  'Damn,' he mused.  'If I follow this line of thought,
I'll be hating myself in ten minutes.'  He heard a knock on the
front door.  'My word,' he reacted mentally, 'this was supposed
to be a solitary evening at home.'

He walked to the front door and opened it, frowning before he
could catch himself, for Tim Minor stood on the porch, offering
him a dazzling smile.

Pausing for maybe ten seconds as though deciding what to do,
Evan slowly reached to open the front door.  Tim Minor missed
none of these signs of reluctance.

"Yes?" Evan said evenly.  He decided he didn't owe Tim a
greeting even under the rules of hospitality.

"Hello, Evan.  Thank you for talking to me.  I understand that
you'd rather not, but I need to talk to you - if you'll allow
it.  I think it can help us both.  And just so you know, I've
already said to Ron what I'm going to say to you."

Evan stood back, saying tonelessly, "Come in.  Why don't we go
to the sunroom?  I'm having a glass of Shiraz.  Would you care
for one?"

"Yes, I would.  Thank you," Tim replied.

If anything, Evan's emotions were more atumble.  Tim looked even
better than he had when Evan had last seen him.  And, damn him -
he could still turn Evan's crank, for Evan's cock had started
hardening when he spied the full tonsure of black hair framing
his bald head, his astonishingly broad shoulders, his slim
waist, his tall body and long, shapely legs.  He never knew
another man who could make bald look so hot.  Tim had noticed
when Evan turned to go to the kitchen for the Shiraz that he had
a bulge in the front of his slacks.  But rather than snickering
about it or feeling superior, it humbled him to know that Evan
still had enough feelings for him that he was responding to his
presence.  The old Tim would have taken advantage of the
knowledge in some way.  The new Tim wanted to do something for
Evan.

Evan set the wine glass on a table by Tim's chair.  "Thank you,
Evan.  I'll bet you know I had dinner with Ron this evening."

"Yes, Ron stopped by afterwards."

"Good."  Not pausing a moment, Tim plunged in.  "I owe you so
many apologies, Evan, that I don't feel I can do justice to you.
I've caused harm, done mischief, embarrassed, and hurt you
greatly.  In honest confession, I have to declare that I
behaved as I did because I was falling deeply in love with you.
I was losing control.  Even though you never intended it, you
were exerting so much pull on me through your love and your need.
Your being injured compounded it because you really were relying
on me.  The sex was sweet and exciting.  And your having Jeremy
living here was too much temptation.  It could easily have
turned into a family for me.  I've always wanted a family, at
the same time knowing I could never keep one.  I'd be one of
those guys who run away from that."

Tim paused, blushing.  "I was one, wasn't I - one who ran off?"
Evan didn't answer.  "You loved me Evan, and I feel honored by
that.  Jeremy would have loved me too.  Both of you were so
needy in your own ways.  And I was finding that I was needing
you in ways that were frightening me.  Oh hell, Evan, you're
smart.  You've figured all this out.  Right?"

"Yes," Evan said softly.  "Doesn't make it hurt any less to have
figured something out.  It only takes away the mystery so that
one can begin to study the root causes."

"I ran.  Ran like a coward, Evan.  Right to Alan.  The sex -
hell, the romance - with you was so good that I couldn't
abstain cold.  I needed someone to take your place who would
ultimately be impossible as a romantic partner for me.  Before
you say it, allow me to admit that I used Alan.  He's a nice
guy and didn't deserve it. I know he's told you about Jacob
Vance, his lover.  They're good for each other, Evan.  Alan's
far better off with Jacob than he would have been with me.
And this point brings me to one of my reasons for talking to
Ron and you."

Tim continued:  "I was counting so much on Ron's being your
Jacob, the guy who was a thousand times better for you than I.
You'll have to admit that I went to some lengths to set you
two up.  So what happened?  You owe me no answers, but I
have to ask because, by my reckoning, you two are perfect for
each other."

Evan was looking levelly at Tim.  No smile.  "We got off on the
wrong foot. Everything for us revolved around sex.  That was
fine to start with, but there wasn't anyplace for the
relationship to grow.  Sex alone can be a dead end.  It's only
when it extends from love that it can cement, energize and build
a relationship.  In itself, sex as a foundation is no more
stable than the next guy's body, cock, and balls.  We wanted
more.  Ron realized that we had to start over to head in the
right direction.  That's what we're doing now."  Evan gulped.
"At least, I think that's where we are now."  Again he paused,
studying Tim.  "It would be incorrect to take what has happened
with Ron and me as a failure of your redemptive scheme."

Evan's last sentence wrapped itself around Tim, making him
admire again the link between Evan's intelligence and language.
Damn!  That could be sexy too. He doubted Evan thought so.
Probably just as well.  Evan didn't need a big head like the old
Tim had.

"I'm glad.  Really. I can't do with words what you can, Evan,
but maybe you can read me analytically enough to realize that
I'm being entirely truthful."

Evan stared at Tim for the longest time.  "Yes," Evan finally
said.

Evan's short replies told Tim that Evan was listening but not
trusting.  Maybe that was the price he had to pay for past
behavior.  "As Brandon's lover, I'm in the best position I'll
ever know, Evan.  That's not to diminish what I had with Ron or
with you.  If you weren't stellar guys, I wouldn't have been
attracted to you.  It was just that I wasn't the guy to do you
justice."  A look into his eyes told Evan that Tim was speaking
from the heart.  "Brandon Parker is the guy for me.  I believe
Alan told you about Brandon and me.  I support the homosexual
side of Brandon's make-up, and because I fear deep
entanglements, he knows I won't make problems for his marriage,
family standing, or political career. We're ideal for each
other."  He paused, looking down.  "I was never the guy for you,
Evan.  That's why I connected you with Ron.  He's a guy who's
perfect for you."

Evan's eyes flashed.  "How do you know who's perfect for me?
You couldn't even stick around long enough to really get to know
me.  What we had could have changed you as Brandon has."

Tim paused.  "I deserved that.  At the same time I have to
observe that I was around enough to know you too well.  Maybe
even better than you know yourself."

Evan just stared, but Tim knew Evan was examining the statement,
for it was a challenge to him, and Evan knew Tim meant it to
challenge.

"So what do you know about me that I don't know?"

"The same things you credit Susan Connolly with knowing about
you."

Evan's eyes widened.  The talisman, Susan, had been invoked.
"You spend way too much time fearing rejection.  You give so
much of yourself, but you don't ask for nearly enough from
others.  You just gratefully lap up what they decide to offer
you."  Evan turned a bright red.  "You don't like yourself even
as much as I like you."  Evan's color deepened.  "Your feisty
nature is entirely defensive; in fact, you hide behind it.  You
can't rise above your past enough to move into a really
distinctly new future.  But you expect that from everyone else
with whom you connect."  Evan's chin and shoulders sank a
little.  "You want to be protected by those who love you, but
you can't even let them in, close enough, for them to really
protect you because you are constantly defending against future
betrayals."  Tim saw tears beginning to glitter in Evan's eyes.
"You never expect anything good that happens in your life to
last long.  You think that once Jeremy graduates from college,
you'll be history unless he needs something from you. You
believe the students who love you will move off into lives of
their own, to which you will be an oft forgotten footnote.  I'm
suddely realizing that you believe that what's happened with
you and Ron is a natural progression for relationships in your
life.  You're afraid of growing old alone." Tim heard a small
choking sound in Evan's throat.  Evan looked away.  Tim could
have gone on, but he'd made his point.  Evan wasn't up to
hearing more.

"You unmitigated bastard!" Evan croaked, trying valiantly not to
allow the tears in his eyes to spill.  "Why is time spent with
you so wrenching?"

"Not time spent with me," Tim replied softly, "time spent with
unacknowledged truths."

"Well here's a truth:  tell me whom I allowed close who then
ditched me.  Who contributed to these fears, taught me that I'd
be crushed if I didn't defend against them.  Tell me, damn it!"

"I'm one of those people, of course," Tim said lightly.  "I'm
not proud of it. That's why I came to apologize to Ron and you.
I CAN'T earn redemption if I don't acknowledge these past
injuries.  In addition, if I didn't care anything about you at
all, I wouldn't possess such intimate knowledge of you.  If
nothing else, it should verify the love I felt in the past and
feel in the present for you. . . . I'm not your enemy, Evan.
When you count on the fingers of your hands the people who
believe wholeheartedly in you, I will be one of those."

Evan turned away so that Tim could not see his face.  Tim arose
and knelt before Evan, pulling him into his arms.  Evan
reluctantly allowed himself to drawn into Tim's arms.  Tim could
feel silent tremors moving through Evan's body.  He gently ran
his hand over Evan's back.

Eventually, Evan pulled back, looking at the floor so that
neither Tim nor he could look the other directly in the eye.
"That hurt," Evan whispered.

"Healing sometimes does," Tim said softly.  "The truth often
hurts, for we spend a lot of time ignoring and hiding from it,
so that when the truth outs, it hurts."

Tim slowly ran his hands up Evan's arms.  Then he arose, resumed
his seat, and took a sip of the Shiraz.  Perhaps a minute passed
while Evan collected himself.

"Am I forgiven?" Tim asked softly.

"I don't know what good it does, but yes," Evan said softly.

"It does a world of good for you and for me."

"You have your exciting life, your job, a promising future, a
lover.  What more do you need?" Evan asked, not looking at Tim.

"If I leave wreckage strewn in my wake, I look like a shit
. . . . I don't know how to put it.  That's the image that
leaps to mind now - a past strewn with debris.  So the job,
future, and lover don't mitigate that past.  I should have been
smarter. The present is informed by the past, follows it like a
shadow, extends into the present.  If I want that to work for me,
I have to try to clean up my past.  I came to understand this
life principle in an usual conversation Brandon and I had."

Tim paused, taking another sip of wine.  "A couple of months
ago, Brandon and I had been apart for almost two weeks - too
long for us.  When we were able to be together, we made hot
passionate love - not sex, love.  The afterglow was powerful.

We couldn't keep our hands off each other.  And we started
talking. As I stated, it was an unusual conversation.  Brandon
is careful to keep his two lives separated.  We sort of have an
unspoken rule that we just don't talk about his marriage or
family and he doesn't ask about my former lives.  But this time
he asked me how many guys had really made an impact on my life.
I told him there were really only three, but one of those was a
college student for whom our being together was just hot sex, as
it was for me.  We both knew that from the get-go.  Brandon had
met Alan, so he knew of whom I spoke.  He'd already chewed me
out for staging it so that Alan would find us in bed, so he said
nothing at that point."

Tim looked off a bit. Then his eyes swung back to Evan.  "So he
wanted to know who the other two were.  Before I knew it, I was
telling him all about Ron and college and you and Templeton High
School.  When I finished, he lit into me for the way I ended my
relationship with Ron and you. He was even angrier on this
occasion than he was that time I ended it with Alan. Well, no,
that's not correct.  He was angry for the way I didn't end it
with you two.  Just hit and run, so to speak.  Brandon is
actually one of those noble folks.  I don't know how he can stay
that way and remain in politics, but he has."

"So you are doing this to get back in Brandon's good graces?"
Evan stated, a caustic tone in his voice.

"I know it seems that way, but believe me, Brandon's the sort
that won't allow you to worm your way into his 'good graces,' as
you put it.  What I've been hoping is that somewhere down the
line he could meet Ron and you."

"Trot your trophy in front of us, you mean?" Evan asked.

"Damn it, Evan.  NO!" Tim exclaimed, arising and walking about
the room.  "I know I've caused your skepticism.  Tell me what to
do to allow you to see that I really want Ron and you to be in
love.  I really care about you.  Whatever it does or doesn't do
for me with Brandon is beside the point.  I want you guys happy.
I WANT it for you!  And I'd like for Brandon and me to have some
quality buddies."

His vehemence made Evan lean back a little in his chair.

Tim returned to kneel in front of Evan, placing his hands just
above Evan's knees.  He took a breath.  "There are four guys
who've been important to me. You have figured largely in my
experience, my thoughts, my memories.  You've evoked the best
from me.  You make me who I am.  You think Ron, Alan and you
aren't in my thoughts many times a week? You are!  I neither can
nor want you out of my life.  Your presence honors me, confers
dignity and worth. THAT'S WHY I'M APOLOGIZING," he said firmly,
gripping Evan's legs.  I want to purge the ugliness I caused but
hang onto the goodness all of you represent.  If I don't have
some kind of relationship with you, I'll be a . . . pygmy.  And
if you are important to me, you know Brandon is too.  I'd like
to bring all that together sometime.  It has nothing to do with
trotting out trophies. It has everything to do with sharing
treasures."

Evan and Tim were looking into each other's eyes.  Tim leaned
forward, slowly closing his eyes and touching his lips chastely
to Evan's.  He felt a quick intake of breath from Evan.  They
backed off.  Then Evan moved slowly forward and returned Tim's
chaste kiss.  Tim squeezed Evan's legs before arising and
returning to his wine.  He sat again on the sofa and took a sip.
"Can't we honor each other?  Be friends?  I'd like that, Evan.
I need it.  I have no right to ask it. But I shall because I
know your good heart.  I know you'll grant it."

Evan stared at Tim for the longest time.  "I understand," Evan
said softly. "Okay," he said with a little resignation, "we'll
be friends although I don't know exactly what that means.
You're at the capital and we're here."

"Opportunities will arise, or we can create them," Tim said.
"I've already told Brandon I'd like him to visit here with me.
There would be legitimate reasons for him to pay a political
visit here.  We could have maybe even a week together. So I'd
want him to meet you guys - if you agree, that is."

"Okay," Evan replied, a little bewildered by the turn of events.

"I'll never dishonor our friendship again," Tim whispered.
"It's one of the most important foundations in my life."  They
must have sat like that for five minutes before Tim announced
that he had to be getting back to the hotel.  As Evan walked him
to the front door, Tim pulled him into another embrace, one that
warm friends would share.

				***

On Monday, Troy and Cody had started psyching themselves up for
the game against Pratt Senior High School, a heated cross-town
rivalry for generations.  By Tuesday, they included team members.
Troy started:  "Hey Jim, wouldn't it be great if Pratt's power
forward fell for the feint you pulled with Rockford's forward?
Remember how it felt executing that great maneuver?"  Later,
Cody joined in:  "Gabe, think you'll get another great steal
against Pratt the way you did from that Woodrow Wilson High
guard?  Remember how that unfolded in your mind?"  Before long,
all the team members, including the stringers, were playing
"What If." Overhearing snatches of the exchanges, Dave Hernandez
could barely hide a killer grin.  He knew what Troy and Cody were
doing.  And he was going to stay out of it so that the important
team vibes the Dynamic Duo were inculcating could occur unimpeded.
He even thought that if he were visited by the flu before the
ballgame, Troy and Cody could coach the team to victory against
Pratt.

The night of the game, when Templeton grabbed the opening tip,
the magic started.  Troy and Cody were so attuned that they
commanded the court, communicating by glances and smiles, moving
down the court, weaving in and out of bodies, modeling poise as
they shot the ball to the basket effortlessly.  But they also
shot smiles to each other and slapped each other on the butt if
they were nearby.  Before the end of the first quarter, the team
was heir to the magic, so in sync that members anticipated each
other's moves perfectly.  On offense, they often seemed a
choreographed ensemble - no hesitation, no stalling, no frantic
haste, no awkward moves.  At that point, Troy and Cody were
laughing out loud with joy as the net burned with their shots
and those of their teammates.  The Templeton fans were abuzz,
energized by the magic on the court.

The Pratt players were flummoxed, thrown out of step.  They just
couldn't do anything right.  They couldn't even control the
ball, so Templeton was grabbing rebounds and shooting the
majority of the time.  When Pratt called a time out, the first
words out of Dave Hernandez's mouth in the huddle were "What are
you guys on?  Tell me so I can lay in a supply of it."  They all
laughed uproariously, catching the attention of the opposing
team and the fans in the stands.  Back on court, the laughter
was infectious so that the team was joining in with Troy and Cody.
Dave Hernandez was laughing too.  He had caught the magic in the
air. They were all amazed that no words needed to be spoken.
They understood the joy that pervaded them all.  It was
beautiful, aesthetic, exciting - bodies moving in harmony and
concert with each other, but minds as well.  It was all there -
muscle intelligence, cognitive intelligence, spatial
intelligence, emotional intelligence, maybe even a kind of
spiritual intelligence.

The entire team played that night, for Dave Hernandez wasn't a
coach who was into "poll politics," piling up points just to
capture top votes with pollsters.  He doubted polls ever helped
a team do much more than get big-headed and make mistakes.
Besides, if Templeton was a good team, they would prove that
eventually.  He never allowed the city or league polls to be
posted in the locker room, and he had his assistant coaches
actively discourage any discussion or focus on them.  Roy
Morgan, Troy's father, had snorted in derision when he had first
heard this.  Winning was everything!  It was one of the reasons
he had no respect for Dave Hernandez.

With the final buzzer, the team moved to celebrate with Coach
Hernandez and the team members on the bench.  They barely had
time to beat the fans, who rushed out of the bleachers to mob
them.  It was joyful pandemonium, time for the fans to join with
the team, share a little in their glory.  When Cody saw Jonah
Stedman standing alone, watching all the back-slapping, smiling,
happy to be just up close, he walked over to him and hugged him,
sweaty as he was, lifting Jonah off the floor and whirling him
around.  Jonah didn't care.  He'd never felt so accepted before.
When Cody set Jonah down, there was Burt Graham and his buddies,
Austin, Chad, and Rex.  Burt grabbed him in a hug.  Austin,
Chad, and Rex each shook his hand, offering congratulations
for a win.  Cody saw Greg Dunwoodie and Denton Cooper
congratulating Troy.  It felt great to Cody to spread it around
with these guys.

After the game, Susan was to attend a slumber party at the home
of Rosalie Rodriguez.  She would have preferred enjoying the
afterglow of the victory with her two men, for she knew they were
especially ardent on the occasion of a victory, making certain
to draw her into their magic.  But Rosalie was one of their
circle of friends, and she was counting on Susan's presence to
make it a slumber party to be discussed for the next week.

Rosalie felt her social cachet needed a boost.  She and Luis
Mendoza had broken up.  Luis had found a woman older than
Rosalie.  He was gentlemanly about it, meeting with Rosalie to
tell her what had happened.  Still, it had hurt.  She made the
mistake of asking who the woman was.  Luis took it as a pretext
to recount ALL her attributes glowingly.  Rosalie could hardly
miss seeing how enthralled he was.  She doubted he'd remember
her at all in a year.  Finally she could take it no longer, so
she arose and walked away, fighting back tears.  Luis He kept
on talking for a while, not realizing that Rosalie was leaving.
He yelled after her, but she kept on her way without turning back.

Susan had been looking for possible replacements for Luis.  The
weekend Troy's brothers had visited had given her a lead.  She
just had to figure out a means for connecting Rosalie and her
next beau - Susan hoped.  As Susan left for the party, the guys
kissed her hotly, promising her that Saturday night was their
night together.  Since Troy and Cody were on their own.  They met
Jeremy and Kenny and others after the game at a diner where they
liked to hang sometimes.  As the evening wore on, Troy leaned
over to whisper to Cody,   "Hey, Hot Stuff, I want you in my bed
tonight.  Call your folks and tell them you are staying
overnight with me."  Cody's grin was immediate and lascivious.

The second Kenny spotted Cody's grin, he punched Jeremy.  "Hey
Jeremy, Cody's got that grin on his face.  Somebody's getting
lucky tonight."  He and Jeremy chuckled.  Cody punched Kenny
playfully on the shoulder as he went to find a phone.  Troy
smiled companionably.  "You can always join us, you know. We'll
be at Evan's.  Plenty of room."

"We're tempted," Jeremy replied.  "But we told Kenny's parents
we'd stay there tonight.  I have to work tomorrow, and Kenny
promised to help Joe, his dad, early in the morning with a
spring cleanup of the yard.  Besides, it means kinky role-
playing in little Kenny Walters' childhood bed," Jeremy leered.
Kenny's grin was so wide it almost cracked his face.

Troy wagged his eyebrows.  "Another time then, Dudes."  At that
point Cody returned, so Troy arose to leave.  They bid their
assembled friends good night and hustled out to the car and
home.  They let themselves in quietly so as not to awake Evan
and quietly moved to Troy's bedroom.  They were so busy ripping
off their clothes that they didn't bother to close the bedroom
door.  They stopped at their briefs, studying each other.  "Hey,
Man," Cody exclaimed, "when did you start wearing boxer briefs?
You look hot in those.  They're putting iron in my dick."  Troy
did look hot.  The leg bands and cotton they finished were
stretched tightly around his well-developed legs.  Cut short,
the waistband just above his hips; the white cotton briefs fit
his beautiful ass like a glove.  His confined cock formed an
obscene bulge in the front.  Cody slid one hand slowly over that
mound, finding that even his big hand didn't cover it
completely.  He used his fingers to gently test its rigidity,
causing Troy's breathing to speed up a bit.

"I just decided to try out a pair," Troy said, extending his
hands around Cody, sliding each one over a cotton-enclosed ass
cheek, massaging them slowly, enjoying the steel muscles that
lay beneath the taut cotton.  He bumped his cock mound into
Cody's equally respectable bulge.  Troy slid a hand under the
elastic band in the back of Cody's tighty-whities, slowly
closing his eyes and moaning as his hand absorbed the warmth
from the smooth skin.  Soon his other hand joined its partner in
caressing Cody's ass.  With tantalizing slowness, Troy pushed
his index finger into Cody's crack as his other hand slid up the
curve of Cody's ass.  His skin felt dry and smooth, so when Troy
moved his hand back the way it came, he pushed two fingers
deeper into the crack, delighting in feeling light sweat there.

Brazenly, Cody slid the fingers of one hand straight into Troy's
crack, meeting sweat immediately.  "You're really wet.  I love
the feel of your sweat.  Makes me feel like I'm enjoying your
real essence."

Troy nuzzled Cody's face.  "It's you, Man, you - you get me all
hot and bothered.  This evening on the court was just foreplay.
Before the end of the first quarter, I knew I was going to fuck
you tonight, to claim you again."

Cody pulled his fingers to his nose and sniffed loudly.  "I love
the smell of your ass, Bro. . . . It WAS foreplay, wasn't it?
Almost as good as this," and he held his fingers to Troy's nose
for him to sniff.  "I wanted you all evening.  I wanted you to
fuck me.  We played as one on the court; now I want us to be one
in love," he said, leaning into Troy's lips, gently licking
them, teasing the outer surfaces with his tongue as Troy tried
to trap it between his lips.  Cody moved a hand around the front
under Troy's briefs, ever so gently caressing the big flared
head of his dick.

Troy pulled him into a passionate embrace as they ground their
cocks against each other.  When he broke the long kiss, Troy
pulled the bedclothes down in one grand, sweeping gesture. With
one arm he grabbed Cody about the waist, and whirled them onto
the bed, where they fell into another passionate embrace and kiss
with Troy on top.  "All evening it's felt as though I inhabited
your body and you inhabited mine.  Now I want that physically.
Oh, Cody, it felt so good tonight!  I was hard most of the
game."

Cody snickered.  "I know.  I saw that you were when you were
dribbling down the court, bending low.  From the back there was
a distinct bulge between your legs.  Couldn't see it from the
front, only the back.  Your dick must have been down and
sticking out of the bottom of your jock."

"It was.  You did that, Lover.  A couple of times when the play
was hot and when we were moving fast so that my legs were
rubbing the head of my cock, and I was looking at you - I
thought I might cum - that's how turned on I was.  I love you so
much, Brother Lover!" he said, kissing Cody hotly.

Their murmurs restored the excitement of the evening, so Troy
couldn't help rubbing his body all over Cody's.  They pulled
each other's briefs off, dropping them on the bed.  Both were
moaning, kissing, squeezing, pummeling each other - males in rut.
In no time, precum was seeping from their hard cocks.  Their
stomachs became so awash with it that their movements were
producing slick, squishing noises.  "Lover," Cody gasped, "I'm
so hot, but let's make this last. Let's make this special."

"We'll have to slow down, then," Troy whispered.  "I know . . .
wait a minute."

He climbed off Cody, walked out of the bedroom in the direction
of the storeroom.  Cody heard that door opened and a light
flicked on.  After a few minutes he heard the light flicked off
and the door shut.  Troy entered the room with pieces of rope.
Cody immediately laughed.  "Oh, Lover, tie me up.  Tie me down.
I'm yours."  Troy was grinning big time as he did just as his
lover requested, tying Cody's hand with a length of rope and
tying the other end to the headboard.  But after he tied the
rope around Cody's wrist, he kissed it softly. Then he started
slow cat licks up just the pads of Cody's fingers, making Cody
moan and his cock pulse faster.  Next he moved to Cody's
nipples, which he savaged painfully but pleasurably before
sticking his nose and tongue in Cody's pit where he sniffed and
licked loudly.  He repeated the process with the rope and Cody's
other hand.

"What about binding my feet?" Cody asked.

"Unh-unh.  I want those loose for . . . maneuvers," Troy
whispered throatily.  He threw himself on Cody, kissing him with
major tongue action.  Then he licked Cody's ears, passing his
tongue inside, nibbling on his ear lobes, drawing sighs. He
licked along Cody's jaw, loving the feel of the stubble there.
"You are such a stud," he whispered.  "You make my dick so hard
it hurts."  Cody made no reply; he was breathing heavily.  Troy
moved down to the hollow under Cody's Adam's apple, licking
slowly there, nibbling the edges, turning his head to the side
to watch precum flow out of the end of Cody's hard dick, which
was standing straight up, still beating time in the air.

Troy rose up, knee-walking to Cody's chest, stopping when his
knees were even with Cody's pecs.  He held his own pulsing cock
above Cody's lips.  When Cody raised his head for a taste, Troy
would move his cock away, making Cody whimper for his prize.
Catching the scent of Troy's hard dick, Cody tried to reach out
with his hands to grab hold of Troy's hot cock, but the ropes
held him back, making him moan in frustration.  Troy didn't
tease Cody long, for he himself couldn't forgo the pleasure he
knew Cody's mouth would give him. With a gleam in his eye, Cody
slowly drew the tip of his tongue through the precum on the
underside of Troy's cock, making Troy's ass quiver.  He repeated
the track of his caress, using his full, flat tongue to maximize
the touch for Troy. Taking up the challenge, Troy reached behind
him, using his hand to slowly massage the head of Cody's cock
with the slick precum there.  It had the effect he desired
because Cody was moving his ass in circles trying to avoid the
hand massage that was giving him almost too much pleasure.

Gradually, Troy moved forward, allowing his balls to come within
swiping range of Cody's tongue.  Not one to miss a sexual
opportunity, Cody immediately began sliding his tongue over them
to catch the salty taste he knew he'd find there.  Troy moved up
even more until his crack was over Cody's talented mouth and
tongue.  Cody took a loud sniff, moaning, "I want it," and then
he stuck his tongue right between Troy's cheeks, pushing his
face into the crack until his tongue hit Troy's warm hole.  He
was almost dizzy when the scent of Troy's ass hit his olfactory
senses, causing him to moan once again.

Afraid that he might blow from just the pleasure of Cody's
ministrations to his ass, Troy moved back down Cody, lifting his
legs and pushing them back against Cody's chest, peering
lecherously at Cody's winking pucker.  Cody was so excited that
he couldn't control the muscles there, for he knew what Troy was
about to do.  Troy lost no time rimming Cody, for he loved the
smell of Cody's ass too.  "Sometimes in class, when I need a
thrill, Bro," Troy spoke softly, "I call up from memory the
smell of your ass.  It always gives me a boner."  Cody moaned
softly.

Finally, Troy backed down, raised Cody's legs, and worked lube
around and into his hole.  He took his time easing in one
finger, then two, then three, all the while caressing, nibbling,
licking Cody's body, caressing his cock and balls, tweaking his
nipples.  He snickered because Cody was feeling so much pleasure
that he couldn't hold his ass still.  Finally, he moved the head
of his big cock up to Cody's ass lips, slowly pushing in.  When
he'd breached the ring, he stopped.  As Cody's muscles relaxed
around his cock, Troy slowly pushed inside, saying, "Bro, I love
you just as much as I do Susan. . . .I don't know when it
happened. . . . It's  like each of you completes a half of
me . . . so when I have the two of you, I couldn't be happier."
At this point, Troy was fully in Cody, so he began a slow pump.

Cody leaned up as much as his bonds allowed for a kiss to seal
Troy's words. After the kiss, Troy whispered, "I felt like we
were twins on the court tonight . . . two halves of the same
cell. . . . I guess it seems narcissistic, but loving you . . .
is like loving myself."

"I know," Cody said softly.  "I remade myself into you because I
love and respect you. . . . Yeah, Troy Morgan, Cody Saxon
respects you. . . . I don't respect many people . . . but I do
you.  I'm excited every second I'm with you. . . . And when we're
making love . . . it's like we merge into one."

Troy would pump until he knew he'd moved into the danger zone.
Then he'd lower himself on Cody, using his mouth to express the
love his dick had been communicating.  When Troy was pumping,
Cody would push back onto Troy, clasping his ass muscles tightly
around Troy's cock, making him moan and sweat.  "Play tonight's
game in your head," Cody encouraged.  The mental images ramped
up the heat of their lovemaking, causing more pauses.  "Troy . .
. Troy . . ." Cody finally whispered, "take us over . . . I need
for you to cum in me . . . I need to cum against you . . .
please . . . please, Man . . . I need you!"

Nerves and muscles at the base of Troy's spine kicked in, making
his big, fat dick a pneumatic drill, for he plunged into Cody
hard and fast, sending them both over the edge.  They moaned
loudly and exclaimed repeatedly, for the pleasure had been
building since the beginning of the ball game.

Coming slowly to a rest, Troy must have lain on Cody for ten
minutes, basking in the afterglow.  Cody had been giving Troy
little kisses around his head and face. "I missed Susan," Troy
whispered, "but I'm glad we had this time together, Bro. I love
you so deeply Cody," he exclaimed, kissing Cody hard.

Gradually, Troy arose, walking to the bathroom to get a wet hand
towel.  He came back to his brother-lover, cleaning him and then
himself with the towel.  He freed Cody from his bonds, gently
massaging his wrists and the muscles in his arms, then lying
beside him and pulling him against his body.  They lay like that
for at least ten minutes, nuzzling and caressing each other.
"I'm the luckiest man in the world," Cody whispered, "because
Troy Morgan not only is my buddy and brother, he's also my
awesome, hot lover.  And we share a smart, beautiful
girlfriend."

After brushing his lips against Cody's, Troy whispered, "It's so
hot being here in this bed with you, caressing these muscles
that worked just as mine did on the court.  Loving the jock who
scored so many points tonight.  You completed me tonight, Cody;
I'm not complete without you.  I don't know if Susan feels that
way about you.  I hope she does.  I want us to be a threesome
forever.  And I want the boys to feel that you are as much their
brother as I am."

"How could Susan, you and me be a threesome after college?" Cody
asked, sliding his tongue along Troy's lips.

When Cody had finished caressing Troy with his tongue, Troy
replied, "I've got some ideas.  We can make it work if we want
too."

"Like how?"

Troy decided that Cody's persistence was a positive sign.
"Susan and I marry, but you live with us.  As far as we're
concerned, we're each other's spouses. We're a family."

"Does that mean that only you and Susan have children?  I'd like
to have children too."

"No.  We'll truly be a family.  You have a child with Susan and
I have one with her, assuming she's okay with that.  I think she
will be.  She loves us both.  The children will be ours and
we'll be their parents.  No distinctions.  We'll all complete
each other just as on the court tonight."  He chuckled.  "I'm
talking about us as though we are Power Rangers!"  Cody laughed
as well.
				***

A few weeks after the boys' weekend visit with Troy, while driving
to work, Emily Morgan was assessing the state of her family.  She
knew when "it" had started. About a month before her husband Roy
kicked Troy out of their home.  Throughout their married life, Roy
had kept to a schedule as regular as clockwork, just as he expected
others in the family to do.  However, he had begun arriving home at
erratic times, claiming that late afternoon meetings at his
company had run overtime, going out to a bar with office staff
after work to celebrate someone's birthday, or taking clients to
dinner, which he'd never done in the past.  Roy was a manager in
marketing; the people in sales usually squired potential
customers around town.  It surprised her that he expected her to
buy that excuse. Sometimes he hadn't made it home until the boys
were in bed.  That was why he was still ramming around the house
so that he could overhear that fateful late night phone call
between Troy and Susan.

Their sex life had diminished to a third of what it was. That
change had started with Roy's using sex to try to force her back
into her former role and give him free reign in the family again.
She let him know that their bed was not an arena in which sexual
politics would be played out.  After that, their sex life -
she would no longer call it "making love" - really fell off.
Now and again, when Roy arrived home really late, Emily smelled
faint traces of perfume lingering on his dress shirts.  If he
hadn't been a chauvinist, he would have remembered that women
frequently have sharper olfactory senses than men, especially
when they abstain from smoking or are pregnant - though Emily
was not expecting.  What a disaster that would be!  More than
once, when Emily sorted the laundry, a task Roy would never
deign to assume, she saw dried threads of semen that had
dribbled onto the inside panel of Roy's briefs, shining when the
light caught them.  Another time, as he bent over to pull a
towel out of the bathroom cabinet before showering, she spied a
hickey on the bottom of his shapely left ass cheek.

No doubt about it.  Roy was seeing another woman.  Now that she
thought about it, he wasn't even being really careful to cover
his tracks.  In his narrow way, Roy could be cunning when he
wished.  So that had to mean that he wanted her to know he was
catting around.  Did he expect her to beg him to drop the other
woman?  She knew that it would come with a price - that he be
restored to his former position in the home with all that
tyrannical power he loved.  But if he was really caught up in
this woman, Emily's capitulating to his request wouldn't stop
the affair.  Roy was not one to sacrifice his deepest desires.
That was for others to do to please him.  She snorted
contemptuously at the prospect.

Emily was uncertain about what to do.  With Troy's departure and
her newly self-proclaimed role as family decision-maker, she had
been charting unknown waters. To complicate matters, the family
was too emotionally charged with issues at the moment for her to
push the matter of Roy's infidelity.  Even more, she'd really
been wondering whether she wanted to be married to Roy any
longer, no matter how good he was in bed and how much history
they shared.  She knew she had to answer that question in order
to decide how to proceed with Roy.  She asked herself what she
was hanging onto when she liked sex with Roy but found him
increasingly intolerable.

She needed to talk to someone.  Certainly no one in her family.
She was loath to open her life to anyone there, allowing it to
be the topic of conversation for the month.  She'd kept her life
"close to her chest" so long that it only ensured that confiding
in one of her sisters would set them all achatter and agog
during their nearly weekly phone briefings.  She sorted through
her mind, wondering to whom she could turn.  It hit her just as
she drove into her parking space at work.  Evan Halsey!  He was
settled, experienced in the world, had been married once, had
been through a divorce, was a parent now, was highly respected
at Templeton High, and had legions of parents as fans.  She
admired the cool, sensible, balanced way he handled the
discussion of finances when it was decided that Troy would be
staying at the Halsey home.  As soon as Emily reached her
office, she called Evan at school, leaving a "Call Back"
request.

At noon, Evan reached her.  She asked to talk to him about a
personal problem. He was silent for several moments.  She jumped
in to say that it was okay if he wasn't comfortable with her
request, for she knew they hadn't known each other long.  That's
why she thought he could help her.  Evan assured her that his
pause was due to wondering if one of the boys was experiencing
a problem. She assured him that such was not the case.  The
problem was hers.  They arranged to meet at Evan's on Saturday
morning since Troy would have the boys out for their "Morgan
Basketball Scrimmage" and Jeremy would be at work.

Come Saturday, Evan was bustling around the house, laundering
towels when Emily arrived (baskets of towels to be laundered
were a happy reminder that all the boys had been home several
nights in the week). In preparation for the visit, he'd had
the water on for tea, so he brewed Emily and himself her
favorite, Constant Comment.  "Pick your choice of where you'd
like to talk," Evan invited.  "Oh, the sunroom, please,"
Emily requested with a smile.

They settled themselves and observed the social amenities, asking
about each other's sons.  Emily had decided the best approach
with Evan was straight up and out.  "Evan, Roy is seeing another
woman.  I have thought about it enough to realize that I need to
sound someone out about alternatives at this point.  You were the
one I thought could help me best."

Evan's brow creased when Emily had identified her problem.
"Emily, I'm sorry to hear this," he commented, pausing a moment.
"I must confess that you have sought out the worst person to
serve as a sounding board.  My wife did the same to me,
compounded by a liaison with my father. . . . Double deception!"
Evan murmured bitterly, blushing a little.  "It's happened in
other relationships after my marriage ended."  Now he reddened
fully.  "So anything I would say to you would likely be biased
with bitter feelings that I still harbor.  Perhaps I could help
you identify a better confidant."

"Please, Evan, I've thought about this.  You've met Roy head on.
You know the state of our family now.  You know the boys.
You've come through fire yourself.  Please trust me to filter
out any bias.  I just need a careful mind, and I know you are
the best one for that now."

Evan sighed.  "I have misgivings about this, but I'll try my
best . . .Why do you believe Roy is cheating on you?"

Emily related Roy's changed behavior and the signs she detected
of his having an affair.  Evan didn't color when she related the
more intimate sexual details. When she finished, silence ensued.

Evan began.  "I have to observe that you don't seem as upset
about this discovery as some women would be.  They'd be in
tears, and I'd be hunting Kleenex for them by now, for they
would have a sopping handkerchief.  I don't know you well.  I
doubt that you are that kind of woman, but I'm not seeing any
signs that you are terribly disturbed by these tidings."

Emily thought a moment before replying.  "I don't know, Evan -
we've been through so much at our home.  Frankly, Roy's cheating
doesn't feel nearly as bad as awakening to find that Roy had
kicked Troy out of our home.  I'm suddenly realizing this
instant that that affected me more than finding out about Roy's
wandering."  She thought again.  "I guess I'm not as upset as
one would expect. It's good to know that," she said, looking off
into the Norfolk pines.

"So what are you thinking about doing?" Evan asked.

"That's what I hoped to realize myself.  I have to decide if I
want to save the marriage or step out of it."

"What are the positives of maintaining the marriage?" Evan
asked.

Again, she moved into deep thought.  "One would think a stable
home for the boys, but with Roy's presence the past few years,
it's been anything but that.  His rashly kicking Troy out of our
home has left a void there for the other boys and for me.  They
seem a little more resigned about Troy's absence since their
weekend here, but I'd be fooling myself if I believed that their
feelings about home are settled now.  Since I declared
independence, Roy pouts around the house a lot.  He barely holds
in his fuming other times.  On those occasions he's sharp with
the boys.  It makes for a stressful home life for them.  We've
all sort of given him wide passage when he's like that."  She
thought some more. "Certainly a more stable financial base for
the family, but as comptroller at my corporation, I make quite a
good salary, more than Roy actually.  Life might be tighter
economically if we were no longer married, but we'd get along
okay without Roy's income."  She thought more.  "Actually, Roy
doesn't behave like a mate now.  I honestly can't say that I'd
be losing all that much if our marriage ended."  She laughed
ruefully.  I'm supposed to be enumerating positives of being
married, but it sounds as though I'm really addressing the
positives of being divorced."

 "In the interest of looking at the complete picture, what would
the negatives be of divorcing Roy?"

Again she paused.  "I can't think that there would be anything
but positives for the boys.  For me, I know that at some point
I'd miss a social life with a husband or a man I wanted to be
with.  I'd have to learn to tolerate loneliness.  I could throw
myself into the girlfriend thing, for I have divorced women
friends, but I just can't see that accomplishing a lot for me.
I'd miss the love of a man, for I know even now as I'm saying it
that I need a man to love in my life."  She smiled
apologetically.  "It's a common feeling among women in my
family."

She was silent for a while.  "It would be best for the boys to
have a father figure in their lives.  Roy isn't much of one now,
and if we divorce, given the way he's withdrawn from us, he
won't be much of a father then."  She tilted her head to the
side, looking off into space, pushing her lower lip out a
little:  "I'm not certain that I'd want him to be much a of
presence in their lives if we divorce.  I know the kind of woman
he'll end up with.  She'll be younger, smitten with Roy. With
all that attention from her, he'll be feeling like a god.  It's
what he craves. She won't want to be sharing him with the boys.
I doubt he'll want them around much as reminders that he's older
than she wants to see him as being.  I doubt she'll be too much
older than Troy - probably post-college."

More silence and thought on her part.  "No, I realize just this
second that I don't want to remain married to Roy."  She sat
there, shaking her head in the negative, still thinking hard.
"No, Roy is not at all flexible.  He will never be comfortable
with the new Emily Morgan.  I feel guilty now that I allowed the
former Emily to exist as long as she did.  But I'm not going
back to what I was.  Roy should have a woman with whom he can be
comfortable. . . Gee, I don't feel like crying at all. I just
feel very sad - as when an elderly aunt who was a favorite in
one's growing up years dies. . . How odd!"

"But how liberating to have realized your true feelings," Evan
said softly.  "So what do you intend to do now?"

"I'll have to talk to Roy.  I think before I do that, I want to
consult a lawyer.  I'm not going to file on him without our
discussing it first.  I just want to find out what the important
legal considerations are.  Can you recommend a lawyer?"

"Well, I like my attorney, Miles Forbisher.  He's a Southern
gentleman.  He's not into macho divorce law."  She looked a
little puzzled at Evan's remark.  "Miles is not one who sees a
divorce case as a chance to one-up and arm wrestle another
attorney.  He doesn't do verbal fisticuffs or shouting matches.
He represented Jim Belton, a staff member at our school, in his
divorce.  It ended to the satisfaction of both Jim and his ex-
wife, Brenda.  In fact, I think both would claim to still be
friends - and that was in the face of Jim's nearly losing the
farm that had been in his family for generations so that a
settlement with Brenda could be reached.  I can't promise that
your situation will be anything like Jim's and Brenda's.  In
fact, I think you may see a different Roy emerge when he knows
you're divorcing him.  Still, Miles would be good in that
situation.  The first half hour of your first consultation with
him is free.  If you decide you need an attorney other than
Miles, he'll happily recommend another to you without feeling
any slight at all.  Let me give you his contact information."

Evan went to his study to write down the particulars.  Upon
Returning, he handed a slip of paper to Emily.  "Feel free to
use my name if you like."  Evan sat down again.  "What do you
plan after you've talked to a lawyer?  If you'd like Troy to
bring the boys over here for a movie-pizza evening while Roy and
you talk, they would certainly be welcome."

"Thank you.  I'd like that.  I don't think it wise for them to
be there when I talk to Roy.  I'll ask Roy to move out.  When
he's done that, I'll tell the boys.  I'll want Troy there when I
tell the boys, which brings up another issue.  Would you be
offended or upset if I reclaimed my son partially?  He would be
a great help if he were living at home again."

Evan visibly gulped, pausing a moment.  When he spoke, his voice
initially sounded slightly choked.  "Of course you'll need him
at home.  He will insist on returning, I can assure you.  He
loves you all very much, and the boys are just at that point in
their development where Troy's influence will be powerful and
beneficial.  I saw its immediate effects the weekend the boys
were here.  Troy is such a generator of love for all those who
come within his sphere of care.  He'll be leaving for college in
a little over a year, so the time between now and his departure
will be important for all of you."  Evan paused, blushing,
"Would you be opposed to the boys' coming over here for a
sleepover now and again?  It was so great having them here.  I
know they enjoyed the time out of their ordinary abode."

"Of course they can visit and do sleepovers.  I'll insist on it.
I don't want Troy to give up all his independence when he comes
home to live.  In fact, given Susan's, Cody's, and Troy's
unusual relationship, I think Troy will want to keep his bedroom
here if that isn't an imposition on you so that he can have time
with them and sleep here some nights.  I'm certain he'll be
speaking to you about it.  I know you've been tolerant of their
staying overnight here together, for Troy told me so.  It
wouldn't be fair for Troy to give up everything just to resume
his place in the family."

"That would be great," Evan exclaimed enthusiastically.  Emily
and Evan looked at each other, there seeming to be little else
to be discussed at this point.  "I'll say nothing to anyone
about this, Emily, including Troy and Jeremy.  The news should
come from you."

"Thank you, Evan."  She arose.  Evan helped with her coat.
"I'll keep you posted," she said as they walked to the front
door.  Emily quickly hugged Evan. "Thank you for giving me this
time.  It really helped.  I consider you a friend now, Evan."

"As I consider you," Evan said softly in her ear.

				***

About three weeks after the boys' weekend visit to Troy, Roy
had observed them hugging more, throwing an arm over the other's
shoulder more, fussing over Riley more.  He hadn't liked it,
further evidence that Troy's influence remained with the boys
even if he'd been kicked out of the home.  He'd tried to put a
stop to the planned weekend, but Emily had pointedly told him
the plans were made and they required no review from him.  The
boys were spending the weekend with Troy and that was that.

One evening, the entire Morgan family, excluding Troy, was at
home.  Emily was preparing dinner and running downstairs doing
laundry.  She'd fallen a little behind, for she'd become the
typical "soccer mom," chauffering the boys to sports events and
the like.  Roy regarded this as her responsibility, so he seldom
helped with it unless it was attending the boys' basketball
games.  Accordingly, she was trying to complete all the laundry
that evening.

Roy had come home extremely irritable.  'Apparently he wasn't
able to have some time with his chickie-boo,' Emily thought.
After he'd snarled at the boys a couple of times - out of
Emily's hearing - Drew and Justin had gone to their room to
complete their homework.  Roy had settled at the table in the
dining room, reading the evening paper.  Having finished their
homework, the two older boys and Riley were sitting in the
family room watching a soccer match on ESPN.  When Emily had
stuck her head in to ask Drew and Justin to set the table,
they'd immediately arisen, talking excitedly about a goal in the
match.  As they walked in the room, they High-Fived and then
bumped their hips together.  Riley had come in and climbed up at
his place at the table just to right of Roy, who was sitting
there with the paper.  "Damn!" he spouted off.  "Ever since you
boys stayed with Troy, you can't keep your hands off each other.
All this hugging and touching!  Did Troy turn you into a bunch
of fairies while you were over there? Besides, you don't get
excited about a soccer match.  It's a faggy European game."
Immediately, Drew and Justin cooled it, turning their faces into
somber masks.

Emily had come into the kitchen just in time to hear Roy coming
down on Drew and Justin.  She stuck her head in the door.  "Roy,
I'm not going to listen to grousing like that this evening.  If
you've got a problem, you take it somewhere else.  And I'll
thank you to remember what I said about slurs."  She saw his
face redden as he prepared to reply tartly.  To stifle him, she
added, "If touching other people is an issue you feel compelled
to address, then we'll talk about your extramarital 'touching,'"
she said, her eyebrows arched in warning.  Roy swallowed his
planned retort so quickly that he choked.  She stood there
holding her ground until she heard the dryer buzz that a load
was finished.  She went to the basement to start another load.

Roy ducked behind the newspaper, but he was furious,
intimidated, and a little worried.  He wished Emily didn't earn
the larger income.  That fact seemed to box him in.  Drew and
Justin arched their eyebrows at each other.  Riley sat
there, looking from Roy to Emily and then Drew and Justin.  He
was taking it all in, but who could tell what interpretation he
was giving it?  Drew and Justin weren't certain what
"extramarital" meant, but Drew intended to look it up in the
dictionary.  Roy was so steamed that he wasn't turning the pages
of the newspaper. He was whipping them over so hard that he tore
a page.  Mumbling, he laid the paper flat on the table and
continued reading.

It was too quiet for Riley.  There were too many people around
for it to be so quiet.  "Hey Drew and Justin," Riley called,
"I'm going to ask Troy if I can stay all night with him this
weekend."

"We can't go this weekend, Riley.  We're playing in the city
junior high basketball tournament," Justin explained.

"Evan and Troy said you don't have to go with me.  I can go by
myself."

Roy put his paper down.  "You are NOT staying all night with
Troy, and that's all I want to hear about it."

Noting Riley's crestfallen look, Justin spoke up:  "Troy and
Cody are teaching us to play basketball with them, Dad.  We're
going to be a team.  It's really helping."

"Oh boy, homo basketball!" Roy shot back.

Drew stood tall:  "I'm not a homo," he stated emphatically.
"Don't ever call me that again."  Roy's face flushed with color.
What had things come to:  he was being braced by one of his sons
in his own home!

Riley joined in:  "We love Troy and Cody, Dad.  All of them are
teaching me to play basketball with them.  That's why I'm going
to stay all night with Troy."

"No, you aren't.  I may be too late to stop Troy from being a
fag, but I can stop it with you boys."

Riley stuck his chin out, speaking with vim and vinegar: "I am
staying all night with Troy.  Mom, Troy, and Evan said I could,
so I am!"

"I'm your father, and I say you are staying home.  I don't want
to hear another word."

Riley's eyes began to tear up.  "Why are you always messing it
up for all of us?" Riley shouted tearfully at his father.

In less than the blink of an eye, Roy's hand swung around so
fast and hard that his backhand slap to Riley's head catapulted
Riley out of his chair and against the wall, which he hit with a
loud thud, the chair whirling about and falling backwards.
Riley's body immediately fell to the floor, motionless.  Roy
stared dumbly at Riley's little body as though he couldn't
figure out what he was doing down on the floor.

"Dad!  What the hell do you think you are doing?" Drew yelled
angrily as he and Justin raced to Riley's side.

"You keep your hands off Riley!" Justin yelled at his father.
Roy just looked startled.

Hearing the loud thump even from the basement, Emily recognized
it as the kind of noise a parent investigates.  She came running
up the basement stairs.  By the time she'd raced across the
kitchen to the dining room door, she saw Drew and Justin gently
rolling Riley over on his back.  Roy was standing up, his
startled look still in place.  "Riley," Emily yelled, rushing to
him.  "What happened?" she asked Drew.

"Dad and Riley were arguing."  Drew looked over at his father,
his face flushed with anger.  "Dad hit him so hard he flew out
of his chair into the wall.  You son- of-a-bitch!" he shouted at
Roy.  Emily gently picked Riley up in her arms. "Drew, wet a
dishtowel with cold water and bring it to me."  Drew arose and
shot to the kitchen.

Roy seemed to be returning to his senses.  "Damned kids arguing
with their father.  Calling him disrespectful names.  I'm tired
of what's been going on around here.  From now on, I'm calling
the shots again," he stated.  One look at his wild eyes signaled
to Emily how desperate he was.

"Think again, Roy.  You are never going to be in control of
events here if this is the way you are going to behave," Emily
stated forcefully.

Roy stomped over to them, looking down at Emily.  "Woman, I've
told you the way it's going to be.  Now shut up!" he said,
glowering at her.  She gently transferred Riley to Justin's
arms, arose, walking to the phone in the kitchen. Roy watched
her, surprised.  She quickly touched a few keys on the phone.
He couldn't imagine what she was up to.  Probably calling Troy.
Well, he'd take care of him when he arrived.

Suddenly Emily started speaking:  "I want to report a case of
child abuse.  I need a patrol car at 4908 Alford Drive as soon
as possible.  My husband is out of control.  He's hit one of our
sons so hard that he was thrown into a wall.  He's unconscious
now, and he may have a concussion.  You'd better send an
ambulance too.  Please hurry.  Things are getting out of hand,
and I'm afraid more assaults will occur."  She listened to talk
on the line.  As Drew passed her with the cold cloth, she handed
him the phone.  "Drew, you stay right here.  Keep listening to
the other person on the line.  Tell her whatever she wants to
know."

"Who is it?" Drew asked.

"The 911 operator," Emily replied, taking the wet dishtowel from
Drew's hand and moving quickly toward Justin and Riley.

Roy's mouth had dropped open, and his face had lost its color.
Suddenly he came to.  "You Bitch!" he yelled, charging at Emily.
She watched him approach. When he was about upon her, she kicked
out with her foot, catching him right in the crotch and taking
the wind right out of his mouth, not to mention "his sails." He
grabbed his crotch as his mouth opened soundlessly, registering
his pain.  He fell to the floor, doubled up.  Emily's eyebrows
shot up briefly as she observed him, motionless on the floor.
Now it was Drew's and Justin's jaws that had dropped open when
they saw their mother swing into action, felling their father.
Emily walked over to Justin and Riley, kneeling, placing the
cloth on Riley's forehead and examining the side of his head to
determine if he was injured.  She noted that his cheek was red
and swelling.  Suddenly, Justin's head turned to the window, for
he'd heard sirens approaching.

"Justin, go to the door and let the emergency personnel in,"
Emily directed calmly.  "Bring them here to the dining room."
Justin shot off, giving his father a wide berth.  The sirens
were loud now, pulling up in front of the house.  She heard
car doors slamming.  Justin had opened the front door, directing
someone into the dining room.  Police officers were the first to
enter, quickly scanning the room, noting Drew telling the
operator that they were there now and hanging up. They saw Roy
on the floor groaning and Emily sitting on the floor holding an
unconscious Riley.  Drew immediately dialed Troy's cell phone
number.

"What's going on, Ma'am," a young police officer asked, kneeling
down by Emily while the other officer stood near Roy.  "My
husband was arguing with my son, who was sitting in that chair.
He struck him so hard he flew out of his chair against this
wall.  He's been unconscious since then."  At that point,
paramedics came through the door, looking at Roy and Riley.
"What happened to him, Ma'am?" the officer asked, pointing to
Roy.

"When my husband realized I'd called 911, he called me a bitch
and charged at me.  I kicked him where it counts," she said
mildly.  "The boys can corroborate this account."

At that point, Drew had joined them.  "That's right officer,"
Drew said.  One of the paramedics asked Emily to gently lay
Riley on the floor as he began checking him over.

"Yeah," Justin added.  "Right in the nuts," he said in
wonderment.  The female officer stifled a smile.  The paramedic
checking Riley swiped the back of his hand across his mouth to
hide a grin that popped out.

The other paramedic went to Roy, who sat up and pushed the woman
away, snarling, "Get away from me, bitch."  At that point the
police officer standing nearby reached behind her back, grabbed
her handcuffs, knelt down behind Roy, pulling his arms behind
him and snapping the cuffs on his wrists - to his amazement.
"Sir," she said, "I'm placing you under arrest."  Then she
started reading him his rights.  When she asked if he understood
his rights, he just stared at her.  "Sir, you have to answer."

"Yes," he snarled.  At that point, the two police officers
pulled Roy up and walked him out the door.

The paramedic who was tending to Riley had been talking on a
phone.  He turned to Emily.  "Ma'am, we're worried about the
little fella's not regaining consciousness.  He may have a
concussion.  We're taking him to the hospital.  You'll need
to accompany him.  You can ride in the ambulance in case he
comes to.  He'll want you there if he does.  Your consent will
be required for us to treat him."

Emily looked around, confused.  "Drew and Justin, you'll have to
stay here. You'll be okay won't you?"

"Yeah, Mom, we'll be okay," Drew replied.  "I called Troy.  He's
on his way over here.  He'll probably bring us to the hospital.
We're worried about Riley too."

"Of course, dear.  Which hospital?" she asked the paramedic.
Drew and Justin listened carefully to his answer.  The
paramedics brought an ambulance cart over near them and placed
Riley's still body on a "back board," placing a foam ring around
his neck and strapping him down.  Emily put her face in her
hands and started crying.  Drew and Justin dropped to the floor,
putting their arms about their mother, consoling her in
whispers.  It was as though the family, burdened by the
heightened emotions of the past months, was now burdened by shame
so that their comments to each other should never be heard by
others.  As they covered Riley with a blanket, strapping him
down again, the three arose, following the cart to front door.
Justin grabbed a coat for his mother.  She told him to get her
purse, which he did.

Emily hurried to the ambulance, for they had just placed Riley
inside.  "I'll see you boys in a little bit," she said as she
rushed to the ambulance.  One of the police officers intercepted
her, telling her that they were returning to the police station
with the suspect, but that they wanted to take a statement from
her and the boys this evening.  She gave them her cell phone
number so that they wouldn't have to track her down.  She knew
that if Riley had to spend the night in the hospital, she was
staying with him.  As she glanced around, she saw neighbors out
in their yards, watching all the action.  'Oh dear,' she
thought, 'Alford Drive has never seen such excitement.  We'll
never live this down.'

The ambulance moved out with its lights flashing but no siren
sounding.  The officers climbed in their car and drove off with
Roy sitting in the back, slumped in the seat, his head on his
chest.  He'd been cowed by the crowd of neighbors standing out
in their yards up and down the streets.  Alford Drive was a
neighborhood of upscale homes set in big yards, but everyone
knew everyone. He wouldn't be coming back here many more times,
he decided.  He heard echoes of Evan Halsey's warning to him
when he stood defiantly on the Halsey front porch, a warning
that news of his behavior would find its way into his workplace
and his circle of friends.

Drew and Justin had gone back in the house.  They went to the
kitchen, where they turned off the burners under the pots and
pans and turned off the oven that held what was to have been
that evening's dinner.  Then they entered the family room,
where they flopped down on the sofas, looking at each other
but saying nothing.  They were still trying to process the
rapid events that transpired and the shocks they'd received.
In a matter of minutes, they heard a car in the drive.  They
heard running footsteps, and then Troy entered the house,
yelling for Drew and Justin.  Drew yelled to Troy that
they were in the family room, where Troy shot like a bullet, his
face full of fear.  "Are you guys okay?" he asked.  The door
was suddenly filled with a breathless Cody and Susan.

"Yeah, we're okay," Drew answered.

"Dad didn't do anything to us," Justin added.  Susan went over
to sit by Drew, squeezing his shoulder.  Cody went to sit by
Justin, throwing his arm around Justin, pulling him against
Cody's solid body.

"Guys, tell us slowly what happened," Troy requested pacing in
the middle of the room.  And they did, haltingly at first, one
making a statement, and the other following with another
sentence.  When they'd finished their account, Justin, wide-
eyed, asked Troy what was going to happen to them.

"Nothing, guys.  You're going to be okay."

"What's going to happen to Dad?" Drew asked.

"He'll make bail and then  . . . go someplace.  He'll be warned
not to return here." Troy answered.  "At some point he'll have
to go to court to deal with the charges against him."

"What charges?" Justin asked.

"Assault and battery against Riley, child abuse, assault against
Mom, to begin with," Troy answered.

"He didn't hit Mom," Drew pointed out.

"Doesn't make any difference," Troy explained.  "He made motions
to do so. That's assault."

"Will Mom be arrested?" Justin asked, clearly worried.  "She
kicked Dad in the balls.  Oh," he blushed, "sorry, Susan.  I
shouldn't have said it that way."

She just smiled at him.  "No Justin," she answered, "your mother
will not be arrested.  She was merely defending herself from a
blow if not a beating.  That's self-defense.  That's not a
punishable offense."

Pondering something a second or two, Drew turned to Susan.
"What does 'extramarital touching' mean, Susan?"

Susan looked startled.  Cody, Troy and she traded glances.
"Literally it means 'outside of marriage.'  It means that
someone who's married is getting romantically involved with
someone who is not that person's husband or wife. Why do you
ask?"

Drew and Justin related their mother's warning to their father
that they could talk about his extramarital touching if he
continued to make an issue of the boy's touching each other.
Troy's face looked crestfallen.  "Does that mean Dad is involved
with another woman, Troy?" Drew demanded.

"Sounds like it," Troy said.  "You know Mom doesn't make wild
claims."   He thought a moment.  "Mom must have been under a lot
of pressure lately.  She never said anything.  You guys
obviously didn't know about it.  I'm sorry she had to go through
that alone," he said grimly, his jaw set.

"I bet that's where Dad goes," Justin said.  "To his honey's
place."

"Well, he might if she's not married," Cody added.

The room was silent while Troy, Susan, and Cody swapped looks.

"Guys, let's go to the hospital and check on Riley and Mom.  We
can decide there what we'll all do."

( To be continued.)