Date: Fri, 25 Dec 2015 09:20:59 -0500
From: CJ Abello <cjabello1997@gmail.com>
Subject: CJ: Autumn: Chapter 6: For You

CJ: Autumn: Chapter 6: For You

This is a work of fiction set in the real world. Certain living individuals
make appearances in the story; all other characters and the events in which
they all participate are the creation of the author. Any resemblance of the
fictional characters to actual individuals is purely coincidental.



Saturday, 31 August 2013 - continued

"Why? What did I do?"

"Nothing bad, CJ. Trust me, it's all good. Tom's kinda emotional right now,
mates. Just wanted to warn you. He had a friendly e-mail from his
ex-wife. She mentioned Tom's parents returned to Boston early this morning,
and quickly organized a family meeting. They complained about not being
allowed to visit their son, who they thought was dying, by some snot-nosed
little fag.  She said if a teenager was able to stand up to Frank Kennedy,
maybe it was time she and her sons did the same. She asked Tom to e-mail
her when he was up to talking on the phone. He did so immediately. He's
waiting for a call from her, countin' on a miracle."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT ME, I CAN HEAR YOU..." Tom Kennedy's booming voice
startled CJ, his dads, and JP.

"Bloody hell, I thought he'd dozed off. Come on, guys, let's get in there
and talk about him in front of him." JP led them inside the room with a big
smile on his face; his husband screaming at them was a good sign. The cop
must be feeling better.

"Hi, Uncle Tom. You doing okay?"

The detective spread his arms out, motioning for CJ to come to him. "I will
be as soon as you get your skinny ass over here and give me a hug."

"Skinny ass? Hell if that boy's skinny. You should see how much our grocery
bill has risen since-- ouch! What you spank my butt for?" Brett asked,
surprised by his husband's move.

"Stop bitching about the food bill, Jarhead." Cesar's reply was accompanied
by another slap to the marine's ass. "You eat just as much as the kid
does."

"If the two of you can't afford to feed him, send him over to us. JP and I
would be happy to have him."

"Hello... can we stop talking about me as if I wasn't here? Why do y'all
keep doing this with me?"

"Listen, CJ. I wanted to tell you if you're a snot-nosed little fag, like
my father called you, I sincerely hope my kids turn out to be the same. I
am so proud of you, I don't really have the words to express it." There was
a tenderness in the detective's voice which spoke of a deep affection for
the boy; moistness was noticeable in his eyes. "I've seen you deal with
rejection by part of your family, and bounce back stronger and more
determined to be your own man.  You've adapted to a new environment, and
become an integral part of a group of older men who all respect you."

CJ fidgeted, he seemed unable to focus his gaze on anyone or anything. His
fathers sat smiling, nodding their heads in assent. Clearly, they were glad
someone other than them was acknowledging the type of man their son was
turning out to be.

"You came to the aid of a stranger, a young man being picked on. You tried
to reason with the bully, and ended up having to defend yourself when he
attacked you. In the process of trashing that asshole, you showed everyone
being gay doesn't give anyone the right to walk all over us.  That many of
us are able, and willing, to defend ourselves. You've impressed
politicians, military officers, and world famous athletes. I heard how you
stood up for me last night."

"But I did nothing, Uncle Tom." The boy was blushing, gazing at his hand
being held by the detective, still avoiding looking at anyone.

"Bullshit! I was told in great detail how you stood up for me in a
respectful way, until once again you were threatened. And then, without
violence, you beat down a self-righteous Catholic priest. And if that
wasn't enough, you put a couple of old, bigoted idiots, who don't know the
first thing about love or respect for others, in their place." The injured
man held CJ's hand in his own a little tighter; the gentle squeezing
motions visible to all in the room. "You did the right thing not allowing
my parents near me. Them leaving after finding out I wasn't going to die,
is proof they had no real concern for me. I am so glad you've come into our
lives. I look forward to having you as my friend for many years to come. I
love you, son."


Sunday, 1 September 2013

"You did good, CJ. Dontcha worry, Bubba, I ain't going to embarrass your
ass again. But sheeet, I ain't never seen Tommy John get so fucking
emotional. When I walked back in the room it was like... I don't know what
the hell it was! "

After a light breakfast at home, and a short two mile jog with his dads, CJ
sat next to Dr. Matt Calhoun at Farmers Fisher Bakers, on the Georgetown
Waterfront. The teen and his two dads, having no plans for the day other
than visiting their friends at the hospital, had called Doc and asked him
to join them for brunch. They'd walked to the restaurant, stopping by Doc's
place on the way, to pick him up.

"Thanks, Uncle Matt, but can we please talk about something else?"

The late summer day didn't carry with it the oppressive heat and humidity
which had plagued the previous three months. Walking around didn't leave
one sweaty and sticky. Autumn was on the way and CJ looked forward to
seeing the leaves change color. It would be the first time experiencing a
real change in seasons since he had returned to the United States from
Germany.

"I have an idea for a different conversation topic." Brett nudged CJ in the
ribs, getting his son's attention. "Let's tell Doc about our lunchtime chat
yesterday. You know, about you getting a tattoo, and about being distracted
by your spotter at the gym."

The four men were sitting outdoors, enjoying the weather, with a great view
of the Potomac River flowing on the other side of the concrete dock. They
were all dressed alike: deck shoes or sneakers, shorts and polo shirts for
the adults, a t-shirt for CJ. This one was dark teal; 'carhartt' was
written across the chest in white, followed by the company logo in light
orange.

"Shut up, Papa. Don't you dare!"

"I swear, Doc, I think my fifteen-year-old son is more mature than my
husband the Marine Corps Captain!" Cesar shook his head; a look of resigned
suffering accompanied the gesture.

"I'll let that one pass for now, CJ. But I want details later on. How's
this for a different conversation? Hell if I ain't had a call from Cristina
Pereira yesterday night."

"Chip's daughter? You shitting me!" Brett had been fooling around with CJ,
poking each other, giggling, acting as if they were little kids. At Doc's
comment his head snapped up, surprise on his face.

"I sure as hell ain't, Jarhead."

It was Cesar, not CJ this time, who brought the conversation around to the
meal. "You guys wanna get some food before we hear about the call? And I'm
ready for an adult beverage."

"Yeah, Dad, let's go get food. I'm starving." From having previously eaten
at the restaurant, CJ knew their brunch layout was great--one of the best
he'd experienced in DC. Reading up on the place, he'd learned it was owned
by the North Dakota Farmers Union. It used lots of fresh seasonal
ingredients, and the sustainability practices had earned it a certification
as a green restaurant. Plus, he thought it looked real cool.

Doc and Cesar loaded their plates with grilled vegetables, scrambled egg
whites, and yogurt topped with granola. Brett went for the pork tacos, the
guacamole, and the sushi being passed around by servers. CJ piled up two
plates: breakfast jambalaya, ham, bacon, french toast, cheesy grits, and
before he was done eating, he'd also accepted Eggs Benedict from the
traveling trays.

"So, the girl tells me Chip called her and her brother this last Friday,
and asked them to join him for lunch on Saturday. Neither was aware of the
break-up, or that their father had accepted a transfer to a PNC branch in
Tampa."

"WHAT? He left Washington without saying a word to anyone?" Cesar asked,
staring at Doc. CJ and Brett were both too busy eating.

"Y'all ain't even heard the best part yet. While eating, his son asked why
we'd broken up, and Chip admitted to cheating on me. Seems Chipper didn't
cozy up to that very well. According to his sister: he stood up, loudly
told his dad he was an asshole, walked to the curb, and jumped in a cab
headed home. What's up with all these teenagers being so self-righteous?
Here I thought they had no maturity, their brains having been fried extra
crispy by silly reality TV shows and video games."

"Hey, watch it, Uncle Matt. How old is this Chipper guy anyway?" CJ had to
swallow a large piece of his french toast, washing it down with a sip from
his glass of milk, before being able to speak.

"Same as you, Bubba. And I was just messing with you 'bout the fried
brains. Cristina is a bit older. She's eighteen and about to start her
freshman year at NYU. She asked me to let her know next time I went up to
the city. Said both she and her brother wanted to see me and spend some
time with me."

"Damn, Doc, I don't know what to say. Maybe the kids turned out okay in
spite of any defective paternal genetic material which may have been passed
to them at conception." Cesar looked at CJ and winked at him before
finishing his comment. "It happens, you know? Look at CJ, he takes after my
side of the family. Sounds as if they want to maintain some sort of
relationship with you."

"Wait a minute here, Dad. Did you just brag about yourself? And did you
just call Chip a... a jerk? Using all kinds of fancy words? You can't talk
in code around me anymore, old man." CJ decided to say jerk instead of
asshole. There was a young girl at the table next to theirs, paying close
attention to everything he did and said. "Also, didn't Uncle Tommy tell me
he had a son my age? And now I find out Chip does too? Damn, I'd love to
meet those two guys. Just imagine how much fun y'all would have with the
three of us around you all the time!"

"May the force be with us. Unfortunately, none of us have ever met Potus'
kids--they live in Boston. There may be a better chance to meet Chipper. It
sounds like he likes Doc here better than he does his own father." Brett
pushed his plate slightly away from him, folded his napkin and placed it on
the table, before leaning back in his chair, contentment written on his
face.

"Guys, let's plan a trip up soon." Cesar was aware CJ had not traveled much
outside Florida; he was interested in showing his son other parts of the
country. "The four of us can head up for a weekend, I know there's plenty
of room at the apartment. We can catch a show, do a little shopping, and
maybe sightsee some too. That was good food. I don't know where you put it
all, Brett. CJ we already know has a hollow leg."

"What have I told you about your lame jokes, Dad? Anyway, I've never been
to New York. I'd love to go. And I've never seen this apartment you guys
have been talking about all summer long." CJ was excited about the
possibility of traveling up to the big city. "Columbus Day weekend I'll be
in Chicago visiting the family, so we can't go then. And Thanksgiving we'll
be in Miami. How about Veterans Day? Christmas? Maybe January? I haven't
seen snow in a while either."

"That could be a fun time, let's talk about it later. And I'd love to see
Sean again if it's ok with you, Doc. I ended up liking the man."

"That'd be fine with me, Emperor. He and I still need to talk, I may head
up on my own for a couple of days in the next few weeks." Feeling lazy
after their meal, the guys hailed a taxi for the ride over to George
Washington University Hospital.

X X X

They popped into the Tomassi room, surprising Adriano and the twins. The
kids immediately swarmed over CJ, insisting on showing him their
drawings. Doc checked Adrian's monitor readouts, did a quick exam, and
promised he'd be going home the next day.

The twins had returned to their house with their grandparents the previous
evening. They were back at the hospital soon after finishing breakfast;
they wanted to be with their dad. The death of their mother had not yet
entirely registered in their young minds.

Adriano explained to them that God wanted their mommy to do some special
work, so she'd gone up to heaven to help him. Part of her new job would be
to watch over the three of them, since she would no longer be living at
their house. Quiet sobs were soon followed by desolate crying, with plenty
of tears also being shed by the father. The children repeated over and over
they didn't want their mommy to go away. After tiring themselves out, they
dozed off in their father's bed. Adriano prayed the explanation would hold
for a bit. He knew it wouldn't be long, before they had to discuss their
mother's absence again.

"Hey, Mom, would you and Dad please take the twins for a little walk? I'd
like ten minutes alone with these guys."

"Come on, kids, let's go check out the rest of the floor while our dads
have a grown-up talk." CJ picked up Emmanuel, ready to step outside with
the little ones.

"Please stay, CJ. You should be part of this conversation. You kids be good
for Nana and Popo, okay?"

"'Kay, Daddy." Both kids said, as each held onto a grandparent while
leaving the room.

"Guys, Danno came by last night, and we spent some time discussing my
future. I know my parents will try to convince me otherwise, but I'd like
to stay in DC, if possible. I'll continue to receive my salary for the next
thirty days. Short term disability insurance will kick in and take care of
most of our needs. I have plenty of savings to cover any shortage, so we'll
be fine."

"Sounds like you'll be okay, Adriano."

"I think so, Brett. There'll eventually be auto and life insurance payouts
from the accidents, which should provide a good amount of money, most of
which I plan to put aside for the kids' future. When King was here
yesterday, he told me the trucking company will most likely jump through
hoops to keep me from suing. Their insurance company will probably offer me
some sort of settlement, since their driver was clearly at fault. I asked
him to represent me when that comes up. I don't wanna deal with those
people."

"That's a smart move on your part. I've had clients in situations similar
to yours, the other side often tries to get you to sign off on something
right away, while your mind is on other things.  King can be your attorney
and handle the legal side. I'd be happy to serve as your accountant.  If
you need any financial advice you let me know."

"I'll definitely need help handling the money; you'll be hearing from
me. Financially, we'll be comfortable, if not better off than before. But
the money won't make the pain go away. I'm bottling up a lot of emotions
right now because of the kids. I know I'll have to deal with the loss,
sooner or later, but it'll have to wait. The twins are my priority now more
than ever."

"You have family and a group of friends who'll stand by you, and offer a
hand whenever you need help. All you have to do is ask. Brett, CJ, and I
will be expecting you to do so."

"That's true, with people like you and Brett around, I think I can get
through this. I want to express my gratitude to the three of you for your
generous offer. The boss passed along your message. I'm not really sure I
know how to thank you."

"You just did, wouldn't you say so, Jarhead?"

"Yup. Just remember: we have the resources, we consider you family, if
anything comes up, even if it's on a temporary basis, you give us a call."

X X X

"Good afternoon, Detective. How are you feeling today?" The cheerful
greeting was uttered by Doc as he strolled into Tom Kennedy's hospital
room, closely followed by Cesar, Brett, and CJ.

"And a good afternoon to you too, Dr. Calhoun. What's up with the
formality, Doc? New bedside manner? You gonna start being nice to your
patients now? Hey, guys." A light and airy tone with an undercurrent of
happiness in the cop's voice, was quite a change from the sluggish,
sometimes slurred speech heard the previous day.

"Fuck you, copper. My bedside manner's just fine. How the heck are you,
Bubba?" Doc pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of his white lab coat,
and looked at the clear bag hanging by his friend's bedside, connected to
his arm by a fine plastic tube.

"Feeling great, Doc. Fit as a fiddle. That's for a man with a giant bruise
on the chest, and a plugged hole in the leg."

"Any headaches, or pain?"

"Nope, neither. But from what I understand that bag you were just looking
at has been carrying some happy juice."

"Yeah, that it has. But each time the bag has been changed, the amount of
painkiller has been reduced. Right now it's just enough to take the edge
off, and it'll be completely gone by tonight.  If you're pain free in the
morning, and you remain that way for twenty-four hours, you get to go home
on Tuesday, Wednesday at the latest. There's no sign of infection in the
area of the wound, that's always a concern after surgery. But you have to
be honest, Bubba. If you get even the slightest headache you have to let
the nurse know."

"Sir, yes sir. I promise."

"Good, then I'll leave these three ruffians here and go check up on a
couple more patients.  Guys, y'all have a nice visit, I'll come back when I
get done. Thanks for a great meal!"

"We'll make sure he stays out of trouble, Doc!"

"Yeah right, Jarhead."

"Damn, it's good to see you guys and not be all drugged up. Park your asses
down, we've got lots to tell. Wanna start it off, JP?" The detective's
husband had reclaimed his spot on the bed's edge he had vacated when the
visitors arrived.

"What's up, Uncle JP?" CJ sat at the foot of the cop's bed while his dads
took the two chairs in the room.

"Did you guys watch the news on TV this morning?" JP absently ran his hand
around the spot where the bullet had entered his mate's thigh as he spoke.

"Nah. We went for a run this morning, then the rents and I met Uncle Matt
for brunch, before coming to the hospital."

"The ABC station came on earlier with one of those breaking news crawlers
under the image. It kept repeating 'Suspected shooter of Detective Thomas
Kennedy has been found dead'." That made all three visitors sit up and pay
attention. "They eventually broke in with a live report.  When the news
anchor was shown on the screen, there was a picture behind him of a good
looking, African-American guy with a tattoo of a tear drop below his left
eye."

"What's the tattoo mean? asked CJ.

"Tom told me it's a well-known gang symbol, mate. Most of the time it means
the person with it has killed someone."

"Shit! What else did they say?"

"According to the reporter, the description given by eyewitnesses to the
shooting matched the man found. He said at the time they only had a gang
related name for the guy, Indio. The teardrop tattoo, reinforced the
likelihood of gang affiliation." JP lowered his voice slightly, as if he
was sharing a secret. "The man was found a few blocks away from where Tom
was gunned down, behind a dumpster. He'd been shot several times in the
chest."

"Any ideas on who shot him?" Typical of a fifteen-year-old boy, once he'd
known his uncle would be okay, CJ's fascination with guns, shootings, cops,
and criminals bubbled to the surface.

"Nothing so far. We know a few reporters have called the hospital trying to
speak with Tom. All have been told he's unavailable. Some asked to speak
with the officer's husband. They were told I wasn't available either."

"So that's the first piece of good news we have. The motherfucker who shot
me is gone. No need for drawn out court shenanigans and lots of taxpayer
money wasted. My thanks to whomever took him out."

"Probably one of your brothers-in-blue, Uncle Tommy."

"Hush, CJ. No need to start any rumors. And you need to stop watching so
much Law and Order on TV. Here's the next piece of good news: my ex-wife
called after you guys left yesterday. We had a very long and pleasant
chat." The man's facial expression changed along with the topic of
conversation; it appeared softer, more relaxed as he left behind the
subject of his shooter.

"Damn good news, Potus. This could be the opening you've always hoped for."

"That it is, Cesar. My kids weren't at the family meeting my father called
when he returned to Boston. They'd left early on Friday to spend the
weekend at the Vineyard with friends. So they weren't exposed to the
vitriol my dad--and most likely my brothers--spouted, about the events down
here. The ex promised to give them as honest a recounting as possible,
mentioning what happened to me, what my parents and the priest wanted to
do, and how CJ stopped them. She said it would be up to them, but if they
wanted to call me when they returned to the city, she wouldn't object." Tom
finished as tears had started dripping down his face, he quickly dissolved
into sobs. JP handed his husband the small box of tissues supplied by the
hospital, while the three visitors remained silent.

"That... is... sick!" CJ had to break the emotionally charged moment. He
wasn't one to deal well with extended melodrama. "We were just talking
about this at lunch when Uncle Matt told us Chip's daughter had called him
and he mentioned there's also a son. Turns out that kid, your son, and I
are the same age. Wouldn't it be great if we all got to hang out together?
That would be freaking insane!"

"Bite your tongue, CJ. I just turned thirty, I'm too young to start getting
gray hairs." Brett ran his hand over the short blond stubble on his
head. Freshly cut into his usual high-and-tight, noticing any gray there
would have been next to impossible.

"So far all I've heard is good stuff, Potus." Cesar and the cop had been
friends for a long time, he was happy the man was getting some good
breaks. "You'll be going home soon, the asswipe who shot you is out of the
picture, and the wall your father erected between you and your sons has a
crack in it."

"Yeah, and that crack's there thanks to your son. Listen, guys, JP and I
have a proposal for the three of you. Wanna tell them, honey?"

"What's up?" Brett asked with curiosity in his voice.

"Mates, like most cop's spouses, I always carry the fear something bad will
happen when Tommy leaves home in the morning. This weekend it happened, and
we got lucky it wasn't worse. Once his thinking got clearer yesterday, we
started talking about trying not to put things off in the future, 'cause we
never know what may happen when he straps that gun on every day."

"Hey, I could just as well get hit by a bus on my way to school." CJ chimed
in.

"That's true, mate. The shooting just made us more aware we shouldn't put
things off unless there's a good reason. Like there's no good reason we
shouldn't spend Christmas in Australia.  Tommy's never been to Oz, he met
mum and dad once when they came to visit, and he met Spencer this
summer. The rest of my family, and it's a big one, have never seen his ugly
mug in person."

"Watch it, buster!"

"So... we're going to spend two weeks in New South Wales at the end of the
year. We'd like to have the three of you come with us. You guys are as much
a part of our family as any of the people down there."

"YES! Fucking A. That sounds awesome. I wanna go surfing when we're down
there. Can we go to Manly Beach? The place has to be full of hot guys." The
exuberance of youth made them all chuckle. CJ had clearly shown where his
interest lay: sports and men.

"Down, surfer boy. Don't you think Papa and I have a say in this matter?"

"But, Daaad..."

"But dad nothing. You think you can take the time off, Jarhead?

"I'm sure the Colonel will give me leave whenever I ask for it. What about
you?"

"Even though it's a busy time for me, it shouldn't be a problem. I haven't
taken much time off all year and my billable hours are very high."

"Great! Well what are we waiting for? Let's start planning! It'll be sooo
cool to spend New Year's Eve in Australia." The fifteen-year-old teenager
made an appearance once again. The rapid fire comments conveying the
excitement he felt. "Oh shit, I need a passport, don't I? I wonder if
mine's still good."

"Get me some valid passports, I'll take care of the visas once I go back to
the embassy next week. Find out if you guys can take the time off and we'll
figure out the exact days after you do." Rising from his spot on the bed,
JP ran a hand over Tom's head, smoothing out his husband's short hair. "I'm
starving, mates. Anyone want something from the cafeteria? I'm going to get
me a sandwich."

"Take Brett and Cesar with you, honey. I want to chat with CJ for a few
minutes in private. Oh, and bring me a couple of donuts and a cup of
coffee, please?

"Fucking stereotypes always have some truth to them." Brett's quip made
them all smile.

"Shut up, Jarhead. Anything for you, CJ?

"Just a bottle of water?"

"Be back in a bit if we can keep my husband--the big, bad marine--out of
trouble."

"Asshole!" replied Brett to Cesar. "Matilda, let's waltz out of here." JP
rolled his eyes at Brett's reference to the well-known Aussie tune.

"Have I told you how much I love your dads, CJ?" Detective Kennedy asked
the question as he patted the spot on the side of the bed his husband had
been sitting on, inviting CJ to move there. "After your confrontation with
my parents, I felt you needed to hear more about my background so you could
completely understand why I'm estranged from them."

"You know I was born in Boston, dad was a cop and very strict with all us
children. Mom took care of the house and her men, cooked, and helped keep
us on top of our schoolwork. Any free time she had, she spent in church. In
high school, I was an average student but I was a great football player,
made All-State my senior year. Even back then, I was more interested in my
teammates than in the cheerleaders, but I knew I had to keep those feelings
to myself. I dated some but never for long."

"I think things have changed a lot since then, Uncle Tommy. Today you could
probably do whatever you wanted. Especially if you were so big other guys
couldn't pick on you."

"Maybe so, but I'd still have to deal with the family. And being big didn't
guarantee I'd be safe, if a group of guys got together and tried to hurt
me. You better remember that part."

"I know, just had that conversation again with the 'rents this weekend."

"Anyway, I graduated with no idea of what I wanted to do, so I enlisted in
the Army. Four years surrounded by men, in an environment with testosterone
constantly in the air, wasn't a picnic. I kept to myself, did my job, and
survived. Returning to Boston, I started seeing a girl I'd dated before
leaving. I was picking up odd jobs here and there, I still had no idea what
I wanted to do.  Two years later I got married to her, and right afterwards
entered the Police Academy. Ten months later, Bradley was born. He's the
same age as you, will turn sixteen next month. Paddy came along when his
brother was a two-year-old toddler."

"I hope I get to meet them sometime..."

"I hope so too, CJ. Anyway, I was still fighting my attraction to men. The
following years saw me slip into depression. I could no longer-" The
ringing telephone interrupted Tom Kennedy mid- sentence.

"I got it, Uncle Tommy." CJ picked up the phone so the injured cop wouldn't
have to stretch for it.

"Hello? Detective Kennedy's room." CJ scrunched up his face as he listened
to the caller.

"This is CJ, I'm the detective's nephew. Who's calling?" The boy's face lit
up in surprise hearing the response to his question.

"No shit? Dude! He's really gonna flip! Hang on." CJ held the handset out
to the injured cop, "Uncle Tom, it's your son Bradley... for you."

----------

Copyright 2015 CJ Abello
Edited by: Mann Ramblings

I'd enjoy hearing what you think. Please email me at: cjabello1997@gmail.com

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