Date: Mon, 29 Aug 2011 14:10:33 -0500
From: terry@thestorycloset.org
Subject: Climbing the Hill - Chapter 7 - Wake-up Call

The following story is fiction and may contain sexual content and
situations between males of various ages.  If it is illegal for you to view
such content then please leave this page immediately.  All characters and
names are figments of my imagination and are not meant to resemble or
portray any person in real life - past or present.

All work is copyright protected by the author, me.  No reproduction is
permitted without explicit permission from me.

Enjoy!

========
Seven - Wake-up Call


"mmmMMMMMmmm"


God, I hate waking up, even if it is the weekend.  I want to go back to the
dream!  This isn't fair!

Maybe I'll just lay in bed all day.  Heh, with mom around that's about as
likely as me winning the lottery.

Throwing the comforter back so I can get out of bed I realize I don't have
my sleeping shirt on.  Glancing around I realize it's not where I normally
leave it, either.  Guess mom must have put it in the laundry.  I may as
well get the day started, though I'd prefer just to crawl back under the
covers and close my eyes.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed and stepping down on the hardwood
floor I take one step and the next thing I know I'm falling face first
towards my night stand after slipping on the previously missing shirt.
Luckily I got my hands out in front of me and stopped myself before doing a
near-perfect face-plant, full force, into my grandmother's favorite reading
lamp.

"This is NOT going to be my fucking day," I growl to myself as I gingerly
sit back down on the bed.

"Todd Conlon!"

"Sorry Mom!"  Guess I said it louder than I thought.  She has to have bat
hearing or something.

While bending over to pick the shirt up off of the floor I hear my bedroom
door open.  Guess it's time to get chewed out by mom for dropping the
`f-bomb.'

"Toddy?"

As a cold chill runs down my spine I slowly turn my head towards the door.
The first thing I see is a pair of bare feet standing in a small puddle of
water.  As my eyes drift up, a pair of nicely sculpted lower legs comes
into view.  Further up is a forest green towel wrapped around a set of trim
but curved thighs and terminating at a slim waist.  As my eyes continue
their trek upwards a lightly muscled, yet well-defined abdomen comes into
view - perfectly framing a light trail of hair running from the top of the
towel to a perfect navel.

"Todd?"  I hear - snapping me out of my trance.

Looking up, my eyes lock on to two beautiful green pools framed by a very
handsome face that's looking at me with concern.

OK, so I guess I did win the lottery.

"Toddy, is everything ok?" Scott asks, looking even more concerned.

"It is now," I respond - grinning sheepishly.

"I thought I heard something fall in here, and then I heard you curse so I
came running," Scott said.

"It was just me pulling a `Scottie'," I said grinning. "I almost fell on my
face getting out of bed."

Scott then proceeds to turn around and walk back through the door while
saying "Well, I was going to have you wash my back for me, but I wouldn't
want you to risk falling on a wet floor and hurting that hard head of
yours."

I, immediately, jump up and dash towards the door.  I get to my door just
as he is walking in the bathroom door.  He turns around, sticks out his
tongue and shuts the bathroom door behind him.  I can hear him laughing his
ass off on the other side.

Mom picks this time to walk down the hallway.

"Todd, clean that water up off of the floor!  Sometimes you make such a
mess," she says while shaking her head as she walks by.

I can still hear Scott laughing in the bathroom as suddenly the bathroom
door opens and a towel flies into my face and the door slams shut again.

As I'm drying the floor I hear mom yell up from the bottom of the steps,
"Todd, you two boys should come down soon.  I called and asked your father
to stop over this morning after breakfast.  He may be able to help sort
this situation out.  Breakfast will be ready in 15 minutes."

"I'll be down as soon as I get my shower, mom," I respond.  Then, as I
realize what she said, I add "You what?"

"Todd," my mom begins, "He's your father and he loves you.  I know that
sometimes he doesn't really act the part, but he does love you.  Not to
mention that he's an attorney.  We need whatever help we can get to get
this situation settled as soon as possible."

As a strange feeling of dread washes over me I notice that things are
totally silent in the bathroom.

**********

Breakfast is a quiet affair.  Each of us seems distracted or lost in our
own thoughts.  The food, though, is excellent as always.  And, me being me,
I am not about to let good food go to waste.  Looking over at Scott I see
that he must have the same thoughts.

Mom finally looks up and sighs, "I'm sorry guys.  I should have talked to
you about this last night.  But you had gone to bed and, the more I thought
about it, I realized that we could use some help.  If it bothers you that
much I'll call and cancel."

"It's ok, Mrs. Kathy," he begins, as mom smacks him on the top of the head.
Grinning sheepishly he continues, "I understand that there will probably
have to be some legal work done.  And it makes sense to have Todd's dad
help with that, if he will.  It's just - well.. I'm broke.  I don't have
any money to help with this.  And I really don't want you to spend a bunch
of money to help me."

Scott's statement makes me sit back and think.  I hadn't thought of the
financial aspect of this.  Lawyers and courts are going to cost money.
Yeah, if my dad helps it will probably be less money - but still.

Mom glances up at me and then turns to Scottie, "Hun, you let me worry
about that, ok?  We aren't broke.  You have, pretty much, been a member of
our family for the past year.  If you hadn't noticed, I'd been preparing
meals that I know that you and Todd both like - for months.

"You've helped keep my baby boy much happier - and less moody - for quite a
while now, prior to your leaving, that is.  I'm not even sure that Todd had
noticed it.  But, we mothers notice these things. Anyone that keeps my
eldest happier is worth it in my book."

Eldest?  What the fuck?!  Just as I'm turning to mom to ask what kinds of
drugs she's on she turns, winks at me, and then turns back to Scott.

"Scott, did I not welcome you to the family last night?  I meant what I
said.  YOU are one of my boys.  And we mothers are very protective of our
brood!"

Looking over at Scottie I notice that he's starting to tear up.  Reaching
over the table I grab his hand. Just as I'm about to get up and wrap my
arms around him we hear a car door slam out front.

As Scott is pulling his hand back from mine, in walks Mark Theodore Conlon,
Esq. - my father.

No knock, nothing - just walks right in.  Yup, that's my dad.

"So Kathy, what is so important that you wanted me here before my noon
tee-off with the Judge?" dad asks in a rather self-important voice.

No small talk, no nothing - just gets down to business.  I can definitely
tell that he's not happy to be here.

 It's funny, though.  Why can't he just say he was playing golf with my
grandfather?  It's as though he always feels that he has to impress people
with who he knows, or is related to.  We're all family here - well mostly!
And he's met Scott on several occasions.

Mom just sighs and looks up at him, stating in a rather strained voice
"Mark, you'll be out of here in plenty of time to play golf with Teddy.  We
just have a bit of a situation with Scott, and since he's a very good
friend of your son's I thought maybe you could give some guidance or help
out - as I stated briefly on the phone last night."

Dad appraisingly glances at Scott - and then me, takes his jacket off,
smooths his already impeccable clothes, and then sits down at the table -
facing Scottie.  Looking up at Scott, he begins "Young man, before we
start, I just want you to be aware that for me to be able to provide any
assistance in this I am going to need to know all of the facts regarding
the situation.  I know that some of it may seem rather personal, but, if I
am to represent your interests properly, I'm going to need to know all of
the facts I can.  So, why don't you start by telling me what happened to
put you in your current situation."

Glancing at Scottie I can see that he's gotten a few shades paler.  Scott
looks over at me with a questioning look on his face. Not really knowing
what to do, I put a slight smile on my face and nod at him lightly.

Scottie then turns to mom, who reaches over and pats his shoulder and says
"Go ahead, hun."

Scott spends the next 25 minutes explaining the situation to my dad.  Dad
occasionally stops him to get some clarification or to ask questions of his
own.  I `m familiar with most of the story since I had just heard a lot of
it last night.

I can tell that this is really stressing Scottie out; but there's not
really a lot I can do.  And if I'm not really careful I could inadvertently
out myself to my dad.  I'm not sure I can do that right now.

After a few minutes my dad stands up and says "Let's take a break for a
while."  Looking over at mom he asks "Can I talk to you in the living room
for a few minutes?"

With a questioning look towards my dad, my mom stands up from the table and
they both head into the living room.  As soon as they're out of the kitchen
I reach over and grab Scott's hand.

"You did fine, Scott.  I know it was tough but dad needed to hear it all if
he's going to be able to help you.  I'm sure he'll let us know what he
thinks when he and mom are done talking," I tell Scott.

Just as Scott is about to reply, the phone rings.  I get up from the table
and walk over to the counter to answer it.  Picking up the cordless I say
"Hello, Conlon Residence."

"Hey, kiddo!  How you doing?"  I hear in a gruff voice that can only be my
grandfather.

"Pretty good, grandpa.  How are things with you?" I respond.

"Not too bad, Todd.  Not too bad at all.  Todd, I'm in a bit of a rush.  Is
your father there?  He called me earlier, on his cell, and told me he was
heading there prior to us playing golf this afternoon.  I just tried
calling him but then remembered that you have rotten cell coverage out
there."

"Yep, he's here Gramps.  Give me a few and I'll take the cordless to him,"
I respond.

"OK, Kiddo."

Looking at Scott, I gesture to let him know that I'm going to take the
phone in to dad.  Just as I'm about to leave the hallway that connects the
living room to the kitchen I hear a conversation that rivets me to the
spot.

"Kath, I do NOT want one of `them' living under our roof with our son," I
hear my dad say in an angry voice.

"One of `THEM'?  You don't even have the balls to say what you really mean?
A fag? A homo?  And what the hell is this about `OUR' roof?  You only ever
show up here when you think you can gain something from it.  This hasn't
been your home since that short time that you stayed here when you were
booted from your apartment just after law school.  You have no claim to
this house.  And I'm really beginning to think that you have no claim to
your son - other than the small amount of DNA that you contributed. Todd is
definitely a lot brighter and caring than you ever were!," mom fires back.

In a poisonous tone my father responds, "You do realize I'm an attorney?
You do know who my father is?  It just may be that there is a way for this
to be MY house when all is said and done.  Some judges may not think that
my unfit ex-wife, who lied through our entire divorce, should be taking
care of my son."

What the fuck?!  Who does he think he is?!  Just as I'm about to stomp into
the kitchen I hear mom start up again.

"Mark, dear.  You may not know this, but your father handled all of the
legal paperwork regarding the disposition of this house and the rest of my
parent's estate. You can NOT take this house away from me, no matter how
you try.  I don't own it.  This property, and all of its grounds, was left
in secret trust, by my parents, to someone they loved dearly as well as
someone whom they knew would always love and cherish it. Todd owns this
property and much more."

I drop the phone.  I was too shook up to care.  My grandparents left this
to me?

After a short pause my dad tries a different tack, "Kath, how would it look
with a . a fag living here?  What would people think?"

That's it!  I've had enough!  Just as I round the corner into the living
room I see mom look at me and start to raise her arm to point me back
towards the kitchen.  But then she looks at my face and drops her arm.

As I hear my dad clear his throat as though to say something, I round on
him.  "Father, you needn't worry about what people may think about a FAG
moving in here.  A FAG has lived here for 16 years!  And would you like to
hear something else interesting?  YOU spawned him!"  I say in the most
vicious voice I think I've ever heard myself use.

"WHAT?!  What the hell." he starts to respond.

"Stop!  You have NO right to come in here and preach or make demands of
anyone.  You're only interested in me when it may make you look good to a
client, or a lay, that you have an offspring.  I know this first hand - I
lived with you for a few years.  I can see now that my choosing to live
with you was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made.

"And as to Scott, he WILL stay here if it takes everything I own to make
sure that it happens.  I love Scott.  And I will NOT let you make that love
sound like something dirty or unnatural in my presence."

Just as I'm taking a breath to continue, I hear a rustling in the hall
behind me.  Turning I see Scottie, face white as a sheet and wet with
tears, pulling on a jacket and heading towards the door.  I rush over and
throw my arm around his shoulder and turn him towards me.  I reach up and
lift his chin so that he's looking at me with those green eyes of his and
tell him gently "You aren't going anywhere, Scottie."

Pulling him by the arm behind me, I walk into the living room and up to my
father.  Looking my father square in the eye.  In a very quiet voice I say
"Just you try to take Scott away from me.

"Remember those "secrets" that you made me swear never to tell anyone back
when I lived with you?" I ask with an evil glint in my eye.

My father stutters a bit, and then I raise my voice and continue, "This is
Scott's home.  You, on the other hand are NEVER welcome here again.  You
will get the fuck off of MY property NOW or I will call the sheriff and
have you removed.  Just think how that report will look in the morning
paper."

Dad just backs away from me, grabs his jacket, and quickly leaves the
house.  Just after he leaves, I turn around, look at mom, then pull Scott
into as tight a hug as I can manage.

About that time the adrenaline surge is over and the tears start in
earnest.  Mom and Scott quickly move me over to the chair before I totally
lose it.  Just as Scottie kisses me on the forehead I faintly hear someone
calling my name.

"Todd!  Todd Theodore Conlon!  Kathy!  Someone pick up this damn phone!


*********

Thanks to Kevin and Jay for providing feedback and a quick glance over.
==============

This is my first attempt at writing a story.  Please feel free to contact
me at terry@thestorycloset.org with any comments or feedback.  A few newer
chapters and updates of mine, and other author's stories, can be found at
http://terry.thestorycloset.org .  Chapter 8 is currently in progress at
the above website.

===============