Date: Tue, 02 Nov 2004 05:10:10 -0800
From: Mike <thornado5@netscape.net>
Subject: A Thousand Rainbows 23

Welcome back! Thanksgiving Day dawns, bringing a feast for all the senses.
We'll get re-acquainted with Deputy Sean Ludwig. And when dinner is served,
we'll meet someone from his past.

This story deals with adult themes, primarily same-gender sexual
relations. Such relations have their basis in love and commitment, rather
than sex for the sake of sex alone. In some cases they will use protection;
at other times they will not. You and I should always use protection
because we do not live in the world of fiction.

If you are offended the idea of homosexuality or if you are under the age
of consent or if you reside in an area where such things are considered
illegal or immoral, then you should seek entertainment elsewhere.

Comments may be directed to the author at thornado5@netscape.net

This story is copyright 2004 by Mike Williams. All rights reserved. Thou
shalt not steal.

-0-


A Thousand Rainbows
by Mike Williams

- 23 -

Brian and Bjorn were enjoying their first cup of coffee when the sun rose
over Bridgewater on Thanksgiving Day; they loved the sunrise, especially on
those days when they could spare the time to enjoy it. It would not be long
before the whole house would be filled with activity and the wonderful
aromas of the feast to come. Bjorn had just popped the turkey ...  a
20-pound bird ... into the oven, and nine of Brian's apple pies were set
out on the counter. Three would be delivered to the retirement home, and
another three would be delivered to the rescue mission.

Their chairs were turned toward the large sliding glass door that faced
south, overlooking their backyard. As the gloom of twilight gave way to the
dawn, they held hands in silence, lost in their own thoughts of gratitude
and thankfulness on this holiday.

-0-

It was nearly nine o'clock when Will and Sarah emerged from their
bedroom. They were greeted by the smells of fresh coffee and oatmeal
muffins which Bjorn had baked earlier that morning.

"Good morning, sleepyheads," he greeted them, looking up from his biscuit
dough.

"Good morning to you," Sarah chirruped, and she leaned over to give Bjorn a
peck on the cheek.

"Morning, Will," Bjorn teased with a smile.

Will was already at the coffee-pot, trying to shake the sleep out of his
head. "Nine o'clock already?" He cast a sleepy eye toward the bar where
Bjorn was preparing dough for biscuits.  "Oh, yeah, good morning, Bjorn. We
don't usually sleep so late, even on weekends."

"Well, you're on vacation," Bjorn assured his friend. "Enjoy the extra
rest. Brian and I have been up since about six, watching the sunrise and
doing a few last-minute preparations for dinner."

"Speaking of which," Sarah asked, "where is your partner in crime?"

"He should be back in a few minutes," Bjorn answered. "He had to deliver
some pies to the retirement home and the rescue mission, and then a quick
stop at the grocery store for those last-minute things that we always seem
to forget."

Will noticed the silence of the house, broken only by the sound of their
quiet conversation and the classical music on the stereo. "Where are the
boys?"

Bjorn continued kneading. "Well, I guess they were up pretty late last
night, playing video games. I seem to recall the smell of fresh popcorn
waking me up around one o'clock this morning." He glanced at his
watch. "But, if I know our boys, then ..."

"Morning, Bjorn. Breakfast on yet?" Jason was just descending the spiral
staircase, and he walked over to the bar to give Bjorn a kiss on the cheek.

Josh was right behind him and let out a wide yawn. "Morning,
Bjorn. Morning, everybody.  Coffee?"

It was obvious that the boys had not taken much care in dressing, and
neither had combed their hair. Bjorn returned the boys' kisses, and they
wandered over to the counter where the coffee was waiting. Looking like the
walking dead, the twins sat at the breakfast bar with their eyes barely
open, much to the amusement of the adults.

Josh opened one eye and looked around the room. "Where's Todd?"

Before anyone else could answer, Sarah replied, "Probably still asleep
after your late-night video-game session."

"No," Jason said, staring into his coffee cup and yawning. "He fell asleep
in our room about one-thirty. But he was gone when we woke up."

"We checked his bedroom before we came downstairs, and he wasn't there
either," Josh said with a yawn.

Sarah looked at her husband with concern. "Will ..."

"Relax, everyone." Bjorn calmed their fears. "Todd was up early; he had
some coffee, and then ..."

"Morning, everybody." Todd entered the kitchen from the garage and kissed
parents before heading straight for the coffee-pot. He looked at the twins
with an amused look on his face. "Morning, you sleepyheads."

Brian was right behind him, carrying a small sack of groceries. He smiled
at the crowd gathered in the kitchen. "Good morning, everybody." He rounded
the breakfast bar and paused to give Bjorn and each of their boys a kiss
before depositing the grocery sack on the counter where Bjorn was
working. He noticed the looks of concern on Sarah's and Will's
faces. "Something wrong?"

"Well, nothing, I guess," Sarah replied. "It's just ... well, the boys just
told us a moment ago how Todd wasn't in his room, and they didn't know
where he was."

"It's okay," Brian replied. "Bjorn and I were sitting here having our
coffee, starting to plan for the day, and Todd insisted on helping me
deliver the pies and then pushing the grocery cart around the store. It was
really good to have some company."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Todd apologized. "I know I shouldn't have gone anywhere
without telling you first."

Sarah looked with fondness at her son. "I might have known you'd be out
doing your good deed for the day." And she leaned in to give him a kiss on
the forehead.

He nodded toward the twins with a big smile. "I guess I was going
stir-crazy waiting for these two lazybones to get their backsides out of
bed."

Will was still too sleepy to give his son a solid scolding. "Well, just
remember, son, always tell us where you're going."

"I will, Dad. I promise it won't happen again."

Sarah smiled at Brian, remembering the trip into town from the
airport. "Brian didn't murder any more classical music in the car, did he,
sweetheart?"

Todd had just taken a sip of his coffee. "No, Mom, he didn't. In fact, we
listened to the country station the whole time. Did you know Dylan Cruz has
a new CD coming out soon?  And he's giving a concert in Eugene this
weekend."

Bjorn raised an eyebrow at his partner. "Brian, country music? You?"

Brian put his arm around his lover's shoulders and effected his best
Southern accent. "Not to worry, darlin'. Just broadening my
horizons. Besides, this Cruz guy is really talented."

Todd was incredulous. "Brian, that Mozart fellow was talented; all those
longhairs you listen to were talented. Dylan Cruz is just the best of the
best."

Jason and Josh had been trying to follow the conversation. "Who's Dylan
Cruz?" Jason asked, looking up from his coffee.

"Uh oh," Will said quietly.

Todd turned to face his brothers, his face not hiding his disbelief. "Who
is Dylan Cruz?  He's only the hottest thing to hit country music since the
guitar was invented. What rock have you boys been living under?"

Josh turned a sleepy eye to his brother. "Y'know, Jason, we really need to
get out more."

Jason yawned as he reached across the breakfast bar for a muffin. "You're
right as always.  But it'll have to wait until after breakfast."

Todd smiled smugly and made a mark in the air with his finger. "Round one
to the cowboy in the black hat."

Just then the phone rang; Brian answered the call as he was closest to the
phone. "Connor, Larkin, Sterling and Becker," he said, sounding very
official. "Just a moment, please." He turned to his partner. "I didn't get
the name, but I think he said something about the sheriff's department."

Bjorn was puzzled for only a brief moment as he reached for the phone, then
realized Sean was the caller. "Hey, Sean ... just making some biscuits for
dinner. You know, there's always some last-minute things before a feast
like this ... Sure, we'd love it ... Alright, see ya in a few ... yeah,
2410 West Brunswick ... Great. See ya then."

Leaning back against the breakfast bar, Todd pushed his cowboy hat up and
looked innocently at his brothers. "Uh oh, the sheriff is on his way
over. You guys are busted now."

There was general chuckling around the kitchen.

Jason looked up from his coffee. "Whatever it is ..."

As usual, Josh finished his sentence, shaking his head. "We didn't do
it. We were asleep."

"You two still are asleep." Bjorn turned to his partner. "Actually Sean
wanted to know if he could contribute a little something to dinner. Seems
his dad's claim to fame is his secret salad dressing recipe. And he's going
to whip up a batch for us." He paused to glance at his watch. "That, and
the first of the day's football games starts in a few minutes."

Just the mention of that word was enough to light up the boys'
eyes. "Football? We're awake now," Jason said.

"We'll save you all a seat," Josh said as he grabbed his coffee cup and
another muffin and headed for the family room.

Sarah smiled and gave Todd a nudge. "Go on." Then she patted Will's
arm. "You too, mister. Leave the kitchen work for the kitchen people."

"You're telling me to go watch football?" Will said, as he wiped an
imaginary tear of happiness from the corner of his eye and choked back a
fake sob. "Oh god, I love this woman." He kissed his wife, refilled his
coffee, and was gone.

-0-

A black sports car pulled up to the curb in front of the Connor-Larkin
home, and Deputy Sean Ludwig paused just a moment before switching off the
stereo. He had driven across town listening to Dylan Cruz' newest CD "Pony
Days". The song playing at that moment made him remember something he
hadn't felt in a long time. He removed the CD from the stereo and gently
replaced it in its jewel case. A faint smile crossed his face as he looked
at the picture on the front cover, four ponies at play in a corral with a
man perched on the fence looking on. Then he remembered where he was and
got out of the car carrying a few things he would need to make his father's
salad dressing recipe.

Bjorn greeted him at the front door. They exchanged a hug, and they made
their way to the kitchen where Brian was preparing some homemade vanilla
ice cream and Sarah was combining ingredients for a salad.

"Guys, I'd like you to meet Sean Ludwig." Bjorn introduced him to Brian and
Sarah. "He's just moved here from Southern California."

As Sarah shook his hand, she asked, "Whereabouts in Southern California?
We're from San Diego."

"Most recently, Lakeside. I'm originally from Sacramento," Sean
replied. "But I heard there's better fishing up here."

"That would be Lake Monroe," Brian said as he continued to churn the ice
cream maker. "I think you'll find Bridgewater a lot quieter than Southern
California. We'll see what we can do to drum up some business for ya."

"Thank you kindly," Sean smiled. "A deputy needs some excitement every now
and then.  But right now I'm here to make my daddy's secret salad
dressing. Can I borrow a small pan, say, about this deep?" He indicated the
dimensions.

Brian reached into a cupboard and retrieved a small pan which he handed to
the deputy.  "I've never heard of a salad dressing that you have to cook."

"Well, it's not that you have to cook it," Sean explained. "My dad's secret
ingredient is a certain wine, and we just like to burn off the alcohol. We
don't need anyone getting tanked on Thanksgiving."

Sarah snickered. "Sean, remind me to tell you later about my husband's
grandmother and her bridge club's annual Thanksgiving celebration." She
turned to the others. "If you boys will excuse me for a few minutes, I'm
going to go freshen up." And she went back to the bedroom she shared with
Will.

Sean looked around the kitchen before setting about his task. "I really
like the way this place is laid out. And that spiral staircase is just
great."

"Thank you," Bjorn said. "When we built the house, we felt it fit the place
more than a conventional staircase. Brian, why don't you give that ice
cream a rest and show him the rest of the house? I'll keep watch on the
wine and the ice cream."

"With pleasure. C'mon, Sean, you can meet the other inmates of our little
asylum. I think they're wrapped up in a football game right about now." And
he led the way down the hall.

-0-

Through the dinner the conversation was lively and light, touching on such
diverse subjects as the fishing conditions at Lake Monroe, whether or not
anchovies should be allowed on pizza. As Brian's apple pie a la mode was
served for dessert, the topic turned to everyone's favorite music.

"Well," Will began, "I guess I'll always be partial to the seventies; the
music really had a beat you could dance to."

"No way, Will," Sarah said with a smile. "The eighties is where it's
at. Big hair, skin tight pants, screaming guitars. That's when music really
came of age."

"Dancing is okay," Brian mused, "even fun sometimes. But give me anything
jazz. And I really like this trend in smooth jazz. Some of these new
artists aren't afraid to experiment with new forms. That's what jazz is all
about. How about you, Bjorn?"

"Classic rock all the way," Bjorn said emphatically. "The three-day rock
festivals, the superstar bands. Sixties right through the nineties. A lot
of those bands are still around today."

A cell phone rang just at that moment. Instinctively Sean reached for the
device at his waist.  He glanced at the caller ID. "Sean here, be right
with you," he said into the mouthpiece. The he turned to his hosts. "It's a
private call. Is there somewhere I could take it?"

"Come with me. I'll take you to the den." Bjorn offered the privacy of the
same room where he and Brian had befriended two young men just the previous
evening.

Sean smiled into the cell phone when he was sure he was alone. "Greg, it's
great to hear from you. Where are you? How did you know to find me here?"

A familiar voice came through the line. "Would you believe me if I said I'm
just taking the Bridgewater exit off the interstate? I just finished a
concert in Portland last night, and I've got a show in Eugene this
weekend. So I'm taking a couple days off."

"So how did you find me?"

"Just dumb luck, sweetheart," Greg explained. "I thought you'd be at your
Dad's for Thanksgiving, so I called there first, and he gave me your cell
number."

"I always said you should have been a detective," Sean said.

"Um, Sean, I know this is a little presumptuous of me," Greg said, "but
could I see you? It's been a long time."

"It's been too long, Greg." Sean took a deep breath. "Look, I'm at a dinner
party right now, and I have to work tonight. Hold on." He exited the den
and returned to the dining room.  "Bjorn, could I speak to you for a
moment?"

Bjorn rose from his chair and accompanied Sean back to the den, leaving the
door open.

Sean spoke in a low voice. "An old friend from college is passing through
town; we haven't seen each other in a while."

Without a moment's hesitation Bjorn said, "Give him directions. We'll be
happy to fix him up a plate."

"Uh, wow, that's really generous of you, Bjorn. Thank you."

"No need to thank us. Brian and I wouldn't have it any other way," Bjorn
assured his guest.  "Just don't be on the phone too long. Your pie's
getting cold, and your ice cream's getting warm."

He smiled broadly and left Sean to finish the call.

-0-

When Sean returned to the dining room, the conversation was still centered
on music. He resumed his seat and thanked his hosts and the other guests
for their indulgence.

"Let's see, we got seventies, eighties, jazz, classic rock. Sounds like you
all agree to disagree, I guess." Sean was fascinated by the diversity in
music taste and, yet, the unity in this family. He turned his attention to
the twins who sat on either side of him. "What about you guys?"

Jason thought for a moment. "I guess we like everything, but classical
music would have to be our favorite."

Sean raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute here. You guys are, what, thirteen,
maybe fourteen years old. And you're telling me you're into stuff that was
written hundreds of years before you were born?"

Josh took up the thought. "Most composers today have no appreciation for a
Haydn symphony. Maybe once a year somebody drags Handel up from the
basement so their church choir can perform `The Messiah' at Christmastime."

"Composers today," Jason continued, "all they know is a bass line that goes
`thump, thump, thump', and the same four chords over and over again, and a
few meaningless words."

"But the masters," Josh said, "well, they really understood form and
structure, and how to put it all together. And they did it without all the
technology we have today. Jason and I are writing our music while we study
the things that made their music great."

"And so we will perform two of our own compositions for your enjoyment this
afternoon," Jason announced.

There was applause throughout the dining room.

Sean looked Todd in the eye. "What about you? You've been pretty quiet
through all of this."

"Country music is where it's at," Todd replied confidently. "No offense to
these others, but it's the music that was invented in America."

"Country music," Sean mused. "A man after my own heart. Who's your favorite
singer?"

"Gotta be Dylan Cruz," Todd said without hesitation as he got up from the
table to bring his dishes to the kitchen.

"Good choice. He's my favorite too," Sean said with a smile. "I've got all
six of his CDs."

Todd poked his head back into the dining room. "But he's only released five
CDs." Todd paused and thought for a moment. Then the implications of what
Sean had said hit him, almost causing him to drop the dishes he was
carrying. He looked at the deputy with awe.  "But he's got a new CD coming
out, and you've got an advance copy."

Sean said smugly. "Actually, I've got an autographed advance copy."

Todd couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No way. What are you ... like,
president of the Dylan Cruz Fan Club?"

"No, that's his mom," Sean looked around the room with a big smile. "I'm
the vice-president."

"Get out!" Todd was almost to the point of laughing at the discovery of
another Dylan Cruz fan.

"Well," Brian began, "we listened to some of his music while we were out
running errands this morning. And I really liked what I heard. It was kind
of uplifting, not like a lot of the other stuff out there."

His statement was interrupted by the doorbell. Todd was the only one
standing. "I'll get that."

And he walked down the short hall to the front door. He opened the door and
saw a dark green SUV on the street behind the deputy's sports car. Before
him was a tall man dressed in blue jeans and a black vest over a blue dress
shirt, the top three buttons of which were open, exposing a portion of the
man's firm chest. Todd's eye caught the glint of a gold chain around the
man's neck. He wore a black cowboy hat, and his long straw- colored hair
was pulled into a ponytail. But Todd was most captivated by the man's
bright blue eyes.

"Oh my god. You're Dylan Cruz."

"Howdy." The man offered Todd his hand. "I was told I might find Deputy
Sean Ludwig here."

-0-

to be continued in Chapter 24