Justin pulls his apron off after clocking out at the diner he works at. Wearily, he scrubs a hand down his face, then goes to pick up his check. Tips hadn’t been too bad this week, so he was able to deposit $25 in both his savings and his checking, with almost enough to visit home and spend some time with Brian. He’d spent his mornings each day painting for a couple of hours then pounded the streets until heading to work. He was off the next two days, so he had to figure out where to go to try to get his art hung in a gallery. One picture in five months didn’t cut it, though he made $450 after the gallery’s cut. He was low on big canvases but had some smaller ones he cut into thirds managing to seal the cut edges. He made a series of connected pictures. Four making a set. One set was the four seasons. The next set was holidays: New Years’ with the ball dropping, Easter with the Cathedral on Church Boulevard, which was actually a private drive, Fourth of July with Lady Liberty, and Christmas with the tree in Rockefeller Center. The last set was the one that the research took the longest. This version was of Thanksgiving; the first one showing the first Thanksgiving, then one was of a prairie town and how the town comes together on the schoolhouse grounds. The next, a family eating with Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on the TV in the background. The last was a homeless shelter with the smiling faces of those getting to eat all the trimmings of a Thanksgiving dinner.

He snapped pictures with his phone and placed them on his laptop. He got a call from a gallery that a picture had sold. He made $315 after their cut. So after Cynthia assured him Brian would be home, he bought an airline ticket, and flew in for a visit. But after returning to New York, he couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed being with Brian, but he had to admit that Brian had seemed quieter than usual.

After fretting about it for a week, his text was at least answered, though Brian fussed about it. He was painting out his feelings, his subject, the man in question causing them. Finishing, he got on his laptop and went over the galleries he hadn’t gone to yet. And that’s when he noticed it; a gallery in the village that had a history link. It was started in the 1940s and was now owned by the great-granddaughter of the original owner. There was a picture of the owner included. She was middle-aged, wearing very colorful clothing: long skirts, jewelry, and long hair. His first impression was a hippie, but upon looking closer, it was definitely more Bohemian.

The next day he put on the suit that his mom purchased at the mall for him. Nothing fancy, it wasn’t even fitted, but it still looked good. The lady from the computer site greeted him, and he told her what he was doing. She asked if he had any pictures on his laptop and he went to her office and showed them to her. He was quite pleased to have her take all the sets he had done, plus the one that was an abstract of Brian. She selected six other paintings, and then they arranged a time for her to come to his studio the next day to get them.

“Justin, have you heard of these new artists?” Ms. Penelope LeClair handed Justin a list to look at.

“Yes, I have heard of Rachel Robertson and Jean Luc Mensard. They have gotten to the point that they can concentrate their time on painting.”

Just then the door opened, and the two young people came in. Ms. LeClair gave them their receipt for what was deposited from their latest sales and shows.

“Justin, are you going to let Ms. Pen handle your career?” Jean Luc asked him.

“You won’t regret it,” Rachel added.

Justin signed a six-month contract with her three days after he had received word from Brian’s lawyer that it was an exceptionally good offer.

Justin’s paintings were hung in the Olde Town Gallery. Within three weeks, he had paintings in four other galleries as well.

A week into this new venture, he punched the code in and unlocked the loft and entered. He checked the cupboards and fridge then called the grocery store, and after talking to the meat and produce departments, he had some food ordered for his visit. He also got some microwaveable containers in single-serving sizes. By the time Brian pulled the door back, Justin had a big roast with potatoes, carrots, parsnips, celery, and pearl onions ready. A loaf of sourdough bread was warming in the oven, having had fresh butter slathered on one half of it.

“Justin! You’re here!” Brian called out before he could stop himself. Justin ran over and jumped in Brian’s arms, covering his face with kisses.

“You take a quick shower and I’ll put dinner on the table,” he said, getting out plates and silverware. A nice burgundy had been chilling, and Justin poured it in the glasses as Brian came back dressed in sweats.

“This really smells good. You’ve fixed the parsnips and pearl onions that I like. Good, you’ve also left one half of the bread for me to butter. You know you have to help me work this off, Sunshine.” He cut a piece of his roast and closed his eyes in enjoyment. “How is the art business? Ed said you had him go over a good contract. Olde Town Gallery owned by Penelope LeClair?”

“It’s going great! Ms. Pen gave me the go-ahead to quit my job. She is acting as my agent and has a list of artists she’s helped over the years. She’s tucked away in the village, a beautiful stone and wood building. Her great grandfather started the gallery in the forties. I had to check it out, and I’m so glad that I did! I’ve sold paintings in her gallery, plus four other galleries. All of them are quite lucrative businesses that are located in out-of-the-way places. They’ve been doing business for years. I made just under $10,000 this month. I can stay for two weeks. I’ve finally been able to quit my job and rely completely on painting.”

At the end of his visit, things were going well, but Justin could sense Brian holding himself back. He had cooked a bunch of meals and froze them in microwaveable containers. Brian should easily eat well for two weeks.

That night, Brian calls him while lying in bed. While talking, Brian tells him he’s getting a glass of wine, an indulgence most of their friends don’t realize Brian likes to do before going to sleep. Justin hears the house phone recorder come on, and the voice message clearly through the phone line. It was Lindsey telling Brian that now that Justin had his start, he needs to let him go. Justin was furious! How dare she tell Brian that!

The next day, Lindsey called Justin and started telling him he needed to start going to bigger galleries. She felt he should ignore Ms. Pen and let her guide him. Well, that was it! He told Lindsey she shouldn’t worry about his career, and that he was doing quite well with Ms. Pen’s guidance. Also, as far as he and Brian were concerned, they were doing great just like they were, fuck you very much. He told her to stop trying to manipulate Brian to break up with him, and that she needed to keep her nose out of their relationship and worry about Melanie. Then he called Brian, and finding him free to talk at work, he told him about what had happened. He told Brian his paintings were selling more since Ms. Pen took over as his agent.

He painted steadily for three months and was able to upgrade to a decent place. Nothing fancy, but it was a spacious two-bedroom. There was a big living area with a bunch of windows at one end where he set his studio up. Brian stayed with Justin when he came on a business trip. Justin was pleased when he stayed for a week with him and gave his approval of his new place. But Justin noticed a weight loss on Brian’s part. He called Cynthia and she said Brian had just had a checkup and was doing good.

Justin talked to his mom and she, in turn, talked to Deb and Emmett. The four people conspired to feed Brian, leaving out that it was Justin’s idea. Brian came home to find Jennifer there stirring some jambalaya. She had a container with enough for a couple of days in the fridge. Plus, he could see single servings of other foods from her and Deb. Emmett dropped by with samples to taste for his catering parties. Operation taking care of Brian had commenced.

Justin was given two shows with another artist. Then he had a solo show at Olde Town and then at the Harrington Gallery. Brian came and proudly stood at Justin’s side. He was on his way. Ms. Pen looked at Justin when he picked up his check for $150,000 for the two shows.

“Justin, you have reached the place where you can start preparing to move home. You can paint as well there as here, and don’t let that entitled madam tell you differently.”

“Can you tell that to Brian? I mean, he and Lindsey have known each other since college. It’s ingrained in him to listen to her.”

“Kinnetik, did you say?” On seeing Justin’s nod, she said. “I’ll call him and have a little talk with him.”

Thinking it wasn’t going to be good, Justin listened while Ms. Pen talked to Brian.

“Mr. Kinney, I appreciate your talking to me. Oh? You’d be happy to do some advertising for me? I could see you on any day, Brian. On Friday at 10? I’ll see you then.”

“What are you up to?” Justin asked nervously, while glancing at Rachel and Jean Luc standing there with smiles on their faces.

“What is your fondest dream, Justin?” Ms. Pen asked, sitting back with her hands folded.

“Well, my art is selling great. I’d love to move back home and live at Britin. I’d fix up a fully equipped studio and paint there. I’d like to get Brian to take walks with me around our grounds too,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes.

That Friday, Ms. Pen sent Justin and Jean to the Harrington Gallery to hang more paintings. Both Justin and Jean’s paintings sold well there.

“Mr. Kinney, Brian, sorry. Come in, please. Justin will be back momentarily.”

“What would you suggest for our little gallery?” She asked.
Together they hashed out some TV spots and a few magazine and trade paper ads. Brian was impressed by the gallery; it wasn’t simply a little place tucked out of sight.

“Brian, what do you want for Justin? I’m talking about your wishes, not what you see as his dreams only.”

“He’s always wanted to be an artist. I want him to achieve his dreams. A friend of ours, Lindsey Peterson, was telling us what needed to be done.”

“Brian, may I speak bluntly? I don’t want to make you mad, but Justin has had a conversation every week with Ms. Peterson. In fact, she called me and tried to use her manipulations on me.

“Brian, Lindsey says things in a way that you end up doing what she wants. I told her the same thing Justin has every week, and that’s that she should move to New York and pursue her own dreams. Not try to tell Justin what his dreams should be or tell me how to guide him.”

Reaching out and taking Brian’s hands in hers, she went on, “Justin will achieve his dreams whether he’s here in New York, or in Pittsburgh, or even at Britin. His talent has been noted by the buyers of New York. Justin told me he wanted to be able to earn a living with his art. Plus his dream is you, Brian. That is number one for him. You are incredibly lucky to have that young man. He will stand by you no matter what.

“You have it in your mind that what you want doesn’t matter. You consider yourself in control of your life, yet you do what your best friends tell you to do.” Placing her hand on his cheek she says, “Think about the conversations you have with Lindsey. I had Justin ignore her one day until Lindsey called here. I recorded the conversation. Well, it was all her talking, Justin nor I got to say much.”

She reaches over and turns on her tape recorder and they listen to Lindsey as she gets madder and madder because Justin won’t agree with her that he needs to go to the bigger galleries and that Ms. Pen was not the right agent for him. Then an unbelievable conversation started.

‘You know, Justin, Brian would do better to sell the manor and concentrate on me...’

‘On you, Lindsey?’

‘I meant Gus, although I come with Gus. Besides, Brian will do anything I tell him to do.’

‘Oh yes, Lindsey, I know how you wasps deal with their husbands or pseudo-husbands. You look at Brian that way, don’t you?’

‘Well, I don’t know if that’s totally true, but we do have a child together.’

‘Did you forget that he shot into a cup, so that you and your WIFE could have a child? A son whom he loves dearly, but you and Melanie were only satisfied when he signed his rights away. I have to wonder if he had the dollar amounts of the money that he’s sent you verified, what would he see it was used for? Would it be for Gus, or you? He sends you $2,000 a month, and I know he has sent that much extra several times. I think this conversation is over. If you want to live a dream, it should be yours, not mine. I’m making a great living now, Lindsey. I no longer have to work an extra job to pay rent, utilities, and eat. I’m thrilled with that. My fondest dream now is to live with Brian at Britin. I want to set up a fully equipped studio there and spend my days painting and taking care of MY man. Tell me, Lindsey, are you a lesbian or bisexual?’

Brian heard the phone slam down. He sat there thinking deeply about what he heard. He looked at Ms. Pen with his brow wrinkled in deep thought.

“What has Justin told you he wants, Ms. Pen?”

“You heard what he wants on the recording. There are artists, Brian, that happily sell no more than what Justin does now. He wants to take walks with you around the grounds of your home. Brian, you are a generous man. I feel you want a life with Justin. Be selfish, talk to him about what the two of you want. You are ready to spend your life with him, aren’t you? Lindsey is an entitled little madam. You read me right, I don’t like her. She wants you for herself. She is jealous of Justin and seeks to destroy him by getting you to break up with him. Because without you in his life, he would be destroyed. His art would suffer and die. Now, I will keep this to myself. He won’t know what I’ve said to you. Brian, I do want you to do small business ads for me. Fax me the contract and I’ll sign. I’m very well off, Brian. I love taking young artists and helping them achieve their dreams. Justin’s selling some pieces for well into six figures now. His most popular pieces are the sets, specifically his seasons and holidays. They are more like pictures that tell a story.”

Turning her computer around, she shows him a collage of four pictures. “These all feature you, Brian. As you can see in each one, they tell a different story: heading out to work, playing pool, dancing with Justin at Babylon, and relaxing in bed after a long day. And in each, Justin has captured a very handsome sexy man.”

“So, you’re telling me that he’s ready to come home to me, live in our house, and still have a successful career in painting? I can’t believe Lindsey still thinks I’m a straight man pretending to be gay. I... damn her!”

“Brian, she was trained by her mother to make you and her wife, do what she wants. Justin didn’t tell me that, he didn’t have to. I’ll tell you what he hasn’t realized, Brian. I’m a wasp as well, and my mother was exceptionally good at manipulation, but she wasn’t a selfish person. Lindsey’s family is, I’ve seen that happen. You aren’t weak or a fool like you’re thinking. You can stop her by listening to your man. He’s no longer a boy. He knows what he wants. Live the life you desire with him. I may be wrong, but I think the club boy is fading away. It’s time, Brian, it’s time.”

Hearing voices, they turn just as there’s a knock on the door, and Justin, Jean Luc, and Rachel enter.

“Brian!” He leans down and gives him a hug and kiss. “I’m sorry, were you still talking business?”

“No, Justin. We’ve finished. I’m going to have a small business contract with Ms. Pen. She’s a very surprising person, and I’m glad you have her to guide you. Let’s go get some lunch so we can talk; we have a lot to discuss, as Ms. Pen has told me that you are well established now. We have a manor to paint and furnish. It’s time to create our home together.” He pulls his lips in and peeks at Justin through his lashes. A look that Justin adores, as it shows Brian’s shyness.

“I’d love to do that. Yes, Brian, I’m ready to come home. My paintings are doing great and I know Ms. Pen will handle my career for me. We can fly back when I’m needed here. You will come with me when that happens, won’t you?”

Getting up, Brian throws his arm across Justin’s shoulders and gives a squeeze. “Just try and stop me.” Turning suddenly, he looks at Ms. Pen, then goes over to her.

“Stand up, please. One question, my best friend, Mikey, pulls a similar trick on me, doesn’t he? He spent a lot of time with Lindsey before they moved. Come here you.” He pulls her in for a big hug, and kisses her soundly on both cheeks. “Thank you.”

Then giving Justin a big kiss and hug, they walk out with their arms around each other, and promising to let Ms. Pen know their plans for Justin’s move home.

And as they leave the office, Brian makes a promise to himself about making sure Lindsey understands his and Justin’s lives are off-limit.