Fireworks

Chapter 1

“Hey Brian, come out to the front for a minute,” John called out from the path by the side of the cottage.  Brian had just cleaned off the last picnic table and opened the umbrella.  His garden was ready for the descending horde which were already descending.

“Be right there,” Brian replied as he stood, stretching out the kinks in his back and looking skyward.  The day was sunny and warm with a pleasant breeze.  The sky was a vivid blue but with just enough fluffy clouds to make it interesting.  Brian could hear the beginnings of a soccer game in the nearby field and the clanging of grills.  It was only noon but the lane was almost filled to capacity with family and guests.  He shook his head and wondered if they’d have to get one of those signs you see in restaurants that informed all about the maximum capacity allowed.  He’d have to ask John.

“Bri!” Brian heard John call him again.  He stopped his mind from meandering and focused on John.  “I have a surprise for you,” John said as soon as Brian rounded the cottage.

“I think I’ve had enough surprises for one day,” Brian grumbled.  Between esthetically pleasing port-a-potties, dozens of added guests, and Gus turning up early, Brian’s day was already very, very full.

“No worries; I think you’ll like this surprise,” John assured his brother with a pat to Brian’s back.  John led Brian to the lane.

“What am I looking at?” Brian asked as he walked up to a table that was placed on the other side of their long driveway.  Each side of the lane had been dotted with rectangular tables and colorful umbrellas.  The tables had one long bench on each side.  The benches looked familiar but newly finished with smooth wood and a high gloss shine.

Brian ran his hand over the wood.  “Where did these come from?”

“Liberty Avenue.”  That caught Brian’s attention.  “The city decided to replace the old wooden benches with modern stainless steel.  I caught wind of it directly from the City Council.  We salvaged the benches and had some of Hunter’s kids refinish them.  We got permission to reinstall a few benches along the street of the Jason Kemp Center and theater.  But the rest…”

“You brought them here.”

“Is that all right with you?” John asked. 

Brian looked a little dazed.  “The rainbow paint is gone,” Brian observed.

“It was peeling off.  The benches hadn’t been cared for in years.  I debated repainting them but when we stripped them down to the base wood, it was too beautiful to cover up with paint.”

“So you finished them off with varnish,” Brian observed. 

John nodded.  “Do you like them?  We don’t have to keep all of them, maybe one or two on each side of the lane?”  John asked expectantly.

“Yeah, maybe,” Brian said softly as he sat down on one beautifully finished bench.

“Are you all right?” John asked as he sat next to his brother.

“Fine,” Brian said as he again ran his hand over the wood.

“Talk to me,” John prodded as he bumped shoulders with his brother.

“You know, I don’t recall if I ever sat on one of these benches when they were on Liberty.  I do know old Joanie rested on one when we all marched in that parade years ago.  I knew they were there but it’s like background noise you tend to ignore.”

“So is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

Before Brian could answer a car pulled up and discharged two passengers.  They walked up to the brothers.

“These are new,” said Tom.

“Are they permanent?” Todd asked.

“We haven’t decided,” John replied.  He explained the reclamation.

“I can see you keeping a few benches, maybe one in that clearing near the stream,” Tom said wisely.  That suggestion made Brian smile.  “I wouldn’t mind one in our garden,” Tom added.

“John, I’ll take the rest,” Todd stated.  “After the party, I’ll take the rest of them for the garden center.  We can sell some or rent them out for parties,” Todd said reasonably.

“That’s a good idea,” Brian stated as he stood, shaking off any morose feelings that tried to overtake him.  He grabbed at his brother’s wrist noting it was just after one.  The lane would be overflowing.  “It’s show time,” Brian announced with his usual snark as he walked back to the cottage.  John caught up with Brian.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” John asked with concern.

“I’m good,” Brian said.  Just then a few of John’s burlier men walked by carrying one of the benches.  They were heading for the stream.  “I’m real good,” Brian purred with admiration.

“You never change, do you?” John asked with exasperation.

“Fuck!  I hope not.  To quote a very special therapist who is spending the summer on the lane with his head shrinking partner, I’m married not dead.”

Brian followed the guys down to the stream.  John stood there for a moment shaking his head then it dawned on him that he was also “not dead.”

 

*****

 

Justin was greeting family and guests as a good host should when movement toward the path leading to the stream caught his eye.  After giving a hug to family he hadn’t seen in a while and making sure they were settled, Justin headed for the stream.  On his way, he passed four of John’s men heading back to the festivities.  Justin gave them a flirty smile as they exchanged salutations.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Justin said as he saw Brian sitting on a newly installed bench.  It was in the small glade with a good view of the stream but close enough to a large shady tree.  Brian slid over to make room and patted the seat.

“This is beautiful,” Justin exclaimed.  “It’ll certainly be more comfortable painting out here.” 

“So tell me what you really think, Sunshine?” Brian snarked.

“I think this is a perfect place for a bench.  Where did it come from?”  Justin sat, gently caressing the finely finished wood.

“All the way from the land of Liberty,” Brian stated then fully explained the origin of the bench and the other benches along the lane.  Brian slowly draped his arm around Justin’s shoulder and drew him in closer.  Justin turned and lifted his head; his intentions were clear.  Brian obliged by bestowing a deep kiss.

“We have guests,” Justin murmured when they came up for air.  Brian nodded with a sigh.  They leaned on each other, touching foreheads.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  Really,” Brian added when Justin remained unconvinced.  “Overwhelmed?” Brian said.  Justin nodded.  “We have so much…”

“Yes, we do and we also do our part to give back as much as possible.  This is not a day for you to worry about things that don’t exist or that you can’t change.  We have hundreds of people out there all waiting for Brian fucking Kinney.  Don’t disappoint them,” Justin commanded.

“Yes, dear,” Brian teased.  Justin knew Brian was almost back from whatever cave his thoughts had wandered into. 

It was beautiful in the glade with its fragrant flowers, the dappled shade and the sound of the water flowing over the rocks in the stream.  And the occasional frog.  It was a perfect place to make love.  With one sweep of his arms, Brian had Justin sitting on his lap.

“What are your intentions, sir?” Justin coyly asked as he waggled his eyebrows.

“What would you like my intentions to be, Sunshine?” Brian replied with a question.  He arched a brow as he smirked.

“Right now, just a kiss with a promise of more when our guests have gone and the lane is quiet again,” Justin stated wisely.

“Your wish is my command,” Brian murmured against Justin’s lush lips.  Brian kissed Justin, pouring his heart and soul into the kiss and the promise of many, many more.

“I love you, Justin,” Brian whispered as he kissed the tiny scar hidden under golden locks.  “I’ve always loved you and always will.”

“I love you,” Justin said, his eyes misty with tears of joy.  “Always have and always will,” he repeated.

The lovers kissed and made promises to visit the bench often but for now they had a lane filled with hungry people.  Brian lovingly patted Justin’s bottom before gently pushing him off.  The boys got themselves together before strolling back to their garden.

As they passed the Wendy house, Justin made an observation.

“Did you know Ben was bringing a guest?”

“No, I didn’t.  Tell me he didn’t bring that French fry of his,” Brian growled.

“Okay, I won’t but don’t be surprised when you see one more Frenchman in our yard.”

“I guess today there might be more fireworks than we had originally planned,” Brian commented as he scanned the yard.  Justin could only nod.

 

*****

 

"Daddy!  Dada!" Bree called as she saw the duo emerge from the path to the stream.

"What is it, Squirt?" Brian asked.

"Everybody was looking for you."

"Were we lost?" Brian asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bree giggled.  "We thought you were.  Nobody knew where you had gone."

"Didn't Uncle John tell you?" Brian asked.

"I haven't seen him.  I think he's at the B&B making sure his men have everything they need."

"We were down at the stream," Justin said with a sunny smile for his husband.

"How come?" Bree asked.

"Uncle John brought a bunch of benches and your Dada decided to place one down by the stream," Justin explained.

"Where did all those benches come from?" Bree wanted to know.

"Do you remember the rainbow benches on Liberty Avenue?" Brian asked.

"Sure, Gamma Joan and I sat on them when she got tired during the parade."

"You have a great memory," Brian said with a lump in his throat.

"I remember everything about Gamma Joan.  I miss her so much."

"You and me both, Squirt," Brian said with tears forming in his eyes.  He pulled his daughter into a warm hug.

"She would have loved to sit on that bench by the stream," Bree whispered.

Brian nodded and swallowed hard before he released her from the hug.  "I guess we better go see what damage the riffraff have done while we were gone," Brian said after clearing his throat.

Each man took one of Bree's hands and the small family made their way into the noisy yard behind the conjoined cottages.

 

*****

 

Debbie had her head stuck in the refrigerator in the kitchen of the conjoined cottages, rearranging bowls of food so that she could add one more that had just been brought by someone. 

"Maw," a voice said.

"What?" Debbie asked in surprise.  She reflexively jerked her head up whacking it on the shelf of the fridge just above where she had been placing the bowls.  "Shit!" she moaned as she turned around rubbing the spot that was now throbbing on the top of her head.  "Michael, are you trying to fucking kill me?" she demanded as soon as she realized it was her long lost son standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Of course not," Michael retorted.  "I came in to say hello to you."

"Well, you might have waited till I took my fucking head out of the fridge before you shouted at me."  She continued rubbing the sore spot on her scalp.

"I didn't shout at you," Michael retorted.  "I merely called you 'Maw'."

"It's only taken you six months to call me, so thanks a fucking heap!"

"It has not been six months!" Michael objected.  "Stop exaggerating and making everything sound worse."

"It might as well be six years when your son doesn't even call in forever!" Debbie said, her voice increasing with each word.

"Now it's gone from six months to forever?" Michael practically shrieked.  "Give me a fucking break!"

"Like you've given me?  Never returning my calls, never a thought for your poor, old mother who bore you and raised you all by herself!"

"You ... You're unbelievable," Michael yelled turning on his heel and marching out the front door of the cottage.

"Michael!" Debbie called, instantly regretting many of the words she had just uttered.  She stopped rubbing her head, finding that the sting of her bumped head was much less than the sting of her son walking away from her.

"What's all the shouting about?" Emmett asked as he came into the kitchen carrying another bowl of salad.

"That goddamn son of mine!"

"Michael's here?"

 "He was.  Caught me by surprise.  We had ... words," Debbie admitted.

"I'm surprised he came at all.  None of us has had much contact over the last weeks."  Emmett managed to find space in the refrigerator for the latest contribution to the mighty meal that was being assembled for later in the afternoon.  "When did Michael get here?"

"Who the fuck knows!  And he's gone again anyway."

"Gone?  Where?"

"Probably down to that rambling monstrosity of his at the end of the lane."

Emmett chuckled.  "You better not let Michael hear you call his log cabin a monstrosity."

"Why the fuck not?!  It is."

"That's beside the point," Emmett said.  "Should I go down and talk to him?"

"Do whatever you fucking want," Debbie said crossing her arms on her chest in a manner very much like the one Michael used.

Emmett heaved a big sigh before going out the front door of the conjoined cottages and heading down the lane to Michael's log cabin.

 

*****

 

"Grandma Debbie?" a little voice said.

"What?" Debbie snapped.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm ... I'm fine, Bree," Debbie said exasperated.  "That son of mine is going to drive me to an early grave."

"Uncle Michael?"

"Yeah, Uncle Michael," Debbie repeated with great disdain.

"What happened?"

"He ... he just doesn't get it."

"Get what?"

"That I miss him and wish he could man up and call me instead of hiding away and refusing to talk to anybody."

"Did you tell him that?"

"I never had a chance," Debbie said.  She leaned heavily on the counter.  All of her strength seemed to have left her.

"Come and sit down," Bree said as she observed that Debbie didn't seem to be herself at all.  She took Debbie's hand and led her to the kitchen table where she pulled out a chair for her grandmother to sit.

Debbie flopped into the chair and closed her eyes.  "Could you bring me a glass of water, sweetheart?" Debbie asked in a small voice.  Bree quickly got her one and then sat down at the table with her.  Debbie sipped the water and some color seemed to return to her face.

"What happened?" Bree asked again.

"Michael came in and called "Maw" while I had my head in the fridge.  When I heard him I jumped and hit my head on one of the fridge shelves.  It hurt like a mother fu... mother."

"And then you two got into a fight?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Uncle Michael wanted to try to make things up to you today," Bree stated.

"He did?  How...How do you know?"

"I've talked to him.  He told me he's trying to make changes in his life."

"Why is he telling you that and not me?" Debbie demanded.

"Because I talked to him.  He's really starting to make some changes.  Coming here today was a big step for him."

"And I had to whack my head and yell at him," Debbie sighed.

"You could give him a second chance," Bree suggested.

"Yeah, but will he give me a second chance?"

"There's one way to find out," Bree said with a smile.

"You think I should go talk to him?"

Bree nodded her head.  "Talking is good."

Debbie chuckled.  "You could be right, but Michael hasn't wanted to talk for months."

"But he's turning over a new leaf."

Debbie raised an eyebrow.  "Are you sure?"  Bree nodded again.  "I wonder if Emmett is getting anywhere with Michael."

"Auntie Emm?"

"He went after Michael when he stormed out of here," Debbie explained.

"Oh."

"What?"

"Maybe you should go after him too," Bree said without looking at her grandmother.

"Me?"

Bree nodded.  "I don't think Uncle Michael will come back on his own, so it's kind of up to you."

"I thought you said he was trying to change."

"He is, but it sounds like you cut him off before he got started."

Debbie's mouth dropped open, and she bit back the retort she had been about to make.  She remained silent for a minute.  Bree began to wonder if she had said too much.  Debbie opened her mouth like she was about to speak, but immediately she snapped it shut again.  Bree waited, reminding herself to breathe.

Abruptly Debbie stood up.  "I'm going down there," she said emphatically as she headed for the door.

"Be ... gentle," Bree said hopefully.

"We'll see," Debbie replied before closing the door behind her.

 

*****

 

As Debbie approached the log cabin, she could hear raised voices from inside.

"Be reasonable, Michael.  You know what your mother's like," Emmett said.

"Unfortunately I do," Michael replied.  "She didn't give me a chance to say anything, so what's the point of going back to listen to more criticism."

Debbie stopped in her tracks.  She was just feet from the front door, but she had heard clearly what was said, and if she was honest with herself, what Michael said was true.  She had not given him a chance.  It made her regret even more what had happened.

"Don't leave, Michael," Emmett pleaded.  "Give us all a second chance.

"What the fuck for?!  The outcome's always the same."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Have you been talking to Bree?"

"Bree?" Emmett asked.  "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Never mind.  Just get out of my way.  I'm going back to Pittsburgh."

"Not until we talk," Debbie commanded as she marched into the house.

"Maw, I have nothing more to say to you," Michael retorted crossing his arms on his chest.

"I have things to say to you, and I promise to listen when you speak," Debbie pledged.

Michael stared at her.  "You do?" he asked warily.

"I do."

"What do you want to say?"

"The first thing is that I'm sorry I was such a bitch when you came to Brian and Justin's.  I hit my head and it hurt like a bugger."

"Is it okay?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, I rubbed the hurt out."

"Like you used to do when I'd fall down and hurt myself."

"Yeah, just like that."

"Want a Pepsi?" Michael asked.

"That sounds good."

 

Emmett smiled as he went out the front door.  They had forgotten about him, but that was okay.  At least they were talking to each other.

Fireworks

Chapter 2

While an impending explosion was brewing in the log cabin, the Sarah Kingsley was experiencing a personal problem.

“Sharon, dear,” Sarah began, leaning over to her daughter with effort to be discreet.  Unfortunately the winter had not been kind to our Sarah.  Before she departed to warmer climes, Sarah had slipped on a patch of ice fracturing her hip.  She obeyed her doctors and therapists which helped her to heal well, but on uneven pavement or lawns, Sarah still felt a little unsure of her footing. 

“Yes, mother,” Sharon dutifully replied.

“Would you escort me to the restroom,” Sarah whispered.

“Of course, mother.”  Sharon assisted her mother up out of her chair, handed her an elegant looking walking stick then walked with her to the nearest port-a-potty.

“What is this?” Sarah demanded to know.

“It’s a restroom,” Sharon explained as she opened the door.  The port-a-potty, aside from its pleasing exterior, had a spacious interior that included a sink and all necessary accoutrements.

“Sharon, dear, I will not do my business in this shack!”

“Oh Mother, please, it’s not so bad.  The soap is rather nice and there’s a nice selection of hand lotion.”

“I don’t care how nice the soap is, I will not use this, this…”

“Hi, Mrs. Kingsley, what’s wrong?”  Bree noticed the commotion and decided to find out what was going on.

“Briana, dear, where did you come from?” Sarah asked, slightly startled.  Bree seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“I…” Bree began but was cut off by Sarah Kingsley who was becoming desperate.

“Briana, I really need a restroom,” Sarah stated. 

Bree glanced at the port-a-potty then back at Sarah.   Taking a chance, Bree held out her hand.  “Please come with me,” Bree said gently as she led both women into the conjoined cottages and directly into Bree’s own bedroom.  “Mrs. Kingsley please use my bathroom anytime you wish,” Bree graciously offered.

Sarah looked around the cozy bathroom all tastefully done in varying shades of pink and purple and not a speck of dirt or dust to be found.  

“Oh, thank you so much, my dear dear child.  And please call me Grandmama Sarah,” Sarah gushed as she quickly closed the door.  A moment later, Sharon and Bree heard Sarah’s muffled command.  “Sharon, you will wait for me.”

“Of course, Mother!” 

Sharon and Bree exchanged a smile before Bree offered Sharon a seat then left her to deal with her mother.

Bree continued smiling as she left the cottage, proud of how she helped to defuse that particular bomb.

Sometime later that afternoon the Sarah Kingsley smiled beatifically at Bree and reminded her of her Grandmama status.

 

*****

 

“Why is he here?” Lindsay whispered to Mel as the two of them tried hard not to stare at Ben and his 'friend'.

They failed.

“How should I know,” Mel grumbled back trying to ignore the obvious sparks between Ben and Armand.

Both men were tall and with stunning good looks.  They appeared to be made for each other.

“What are you two doing?” Brian asked as he stuck his head in between the women.  Both jumped with a gasp. 

Mel swore as she spilled some of her iced tea down her t-shirt.  “Fuck, Brian, wear a bell, will ya!” Mel growled.  Brian smirked as he handed Mel a bunch of napkins.

“We were uh, just wondering if, um…” Lindsay wasn’t very eloquent at the moment.

“No they’re not fucking,” Brian stated flatly.  He lent his glare to Mel’s.  “I have a feeling this may not end well today.”

“Why?” Lindsay asked.

“Michael was planning to stay a few days,” said Brian.

“Yeah, so what’s the big deal?  He’s staying with Debbie, right?” Mel asked.  Brian shook his head.

“Oh.  Oh!” the ladies said together.

“Yep.  I don’t think Ben was planning to stay overnight but…”  Brian shrugged his shoulders.  “Well, ladies, I have to go mingle.  Keep an eye on them for me and have plenty of ice water on hand.”

“Why?  I didn’t think it was going to get too hot out today,” Lindsay commented as she looked up towards the sun.

“Not that kind of heat,” Brian snarked as he moved on to another part of the garden.

“Oh.  Oh!”

 

*****

 

“John, we all set for tonight?” Brian asked his brother referring to the fireworks display that was turning into a lane annual tradition.  Brian caught up with John in the yard of the B&B.

“Yup, all set.”

“Something simple?”

“More dignified than simple but I’m sure you’ll like it,” John said with a smirk.

“What?” Brian asked with suspicion.

“You do know you’re just a big old softy,” John said with a wide grin.  Brian had started this little tradition after Candy lost her mother.

“Two of my all time favorites words,” Brian grumbled as he pinched his nose.

“Which are?”

“Old and soft,” Brian complained making John laugh.  Brian walked faster in order to get away from his annoying brother.

“I’m on to you, you know,” John called out to Brian’s back.  John received a one finger salute for his troubles.  That only served to make John laugh harder. 

“Hey, what’s going on?  I just bumped into Brian who mumbled something about pain in the ass older brothers.  I’m assuming that’s you,” Bobby said to his recalcitrant spouse.  He reached up on his toes to peck John’s lips.

“Just pulling his chain.  He was asking about the fireworks show.”

“It’s becoming an annual thing.  Not that I’m complaining, but he only started it because he wanted Candy to feel more at home with the family,” Bobby said reasonably.

“I know, I just called him out on it.”  They both chuckled.

“You just like playing with fire, don’t you,” Bobby commented.

“It’s my job to keep him on his toes.  That’s what older brothers do,” John said smugly.  They kissed again just before walking back to the yard.

 

*****

 

Michael and Debbie were sitting at the kitchen table in the log cabin.  They had mostly made small talk since Emmett had scuttled away.  Debbie took a sip of her Pepsi and Michael did the same.

Finally Debbie drew in a deep breath.  "Michael, what the fuck is going on with you?" she demanded.  They really needed to sort this out.

"I...I'm trying to make some changes in my life," Michael said hesitantly.

"About fucking time," Debbie mumbled to herself.  "I hope these changes include Ben.  He's the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You didn't think that when I first met him."

"I know, but then I got to know him."

"And he's just perfect and ... and I'm not," Michael stated.  His face showed some of the distress that he was feeling.

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Because that's what you were thinking.  Don't deny it."  Michael waited for his mother to deny any such thing, at least that's what he hoped she would do.

"Well Ben is pretty damn close to perfect," Debbie said with a chuckle.

"See, I knew that was what you were thinking.  You think I'm not good enough for him anymore," Michael accused.  The hurt in his eyes was obvious to anyone who looked.

"I always thought you were too good for Ben.  He was ... is HIV positive.  That's a lot to take on, and you were willing to do that," Debbie said softly.  "You're a good man, Michael."

Michael stared at his mother.  He was holding back what he really wanted to say.

"What?" Debbie asked.  "You look like you're going to explode."

"You always do that," Michael spat out.

"Do what?  What are you talking about?"

"When I really need to be honest and face things, you tell me I'm a good man and that effectively ends the conversation.  Well, not this time," Michael stated emphatically.  "I haven't been a good man this last year or so.  I've been wallowing in ... in self pity."  It was hard for Michael to say this, but he knew it was true.  This was one of the things Hunter had helped him face.  "You always encouraged me to go after what I wanted.  That isn't a bad thing until it takes over your life.  I became selfish - never thinking about anybody but myself."

Debbie's mouth hung open in surprise.  She had never heard her son express any such feelings.  She couldn't believe her ears.  "So now this is all my fucking fault," she practically yelled at her son.  "I screwed up your life, not you!  Well thank you very much for that fucking piece of information.  I'll make sure you never get any advice ... or  ... anything else from me ever again!"  Debbie stood abruptly overturning the chair she had been sitting on.  She stomped toward the front door.

"Maw," Michael called.  "I thought you were going to listen.  We need to talk about this."

"Go fuck yourself, you selfish little brat!"

Debbie slammed the door behind her, leaving Michael staring at the door in disbelief.  What the hell had happened?

 

*****

 

Bree and Ashley were sitting on the steps of the Wendy house.  Beau lay on the porch next to them.  They were watching the adults who were moving around the yard or greeting newcomers or drinking beer or laughing or having serious conversations.

"This is a pretty boring party," Ashley observed.

"Yeah," Bree agreed.

They watched people milling around for a little longer.

"Why do you think adults like beer so much?" Ashley asked.

Bree shrugged.  "I don't know."

"Have you ever tried beer?"

"No, have you?"

"I had a sip of my mother's beer one time.  It tasted yucky."

"Hm," Bree said.

"What?"

"Maybe we should try something else other than beer," Bree suggested.

"Like what?"

"Most of the ladies are drinking white wine.  We could try that."

"Wouldn't your dads be mad if they knew?" Ashley asked.

"Probably, but if they didn't know..."

Ashley giggled.  "...it wouldn't hurt them.  How are we going to get wine without them knowing?"

"They have a whole bunch of wine and beer in the fridge," Bree explained.  "We could go to the kitchen and wait till nobody's around."

"Okay," Ashley said with a grin.

Bree looked at her friend in surprise.  "You usually don't want to do anything risky," Bree observed with a frown.

"I know, but I'm tired of being a good little girl."

"Me too," Bree agreed standing up.  "Let's go."

The two girls made their way to the kitchen of the Kinney-Taylor conjoined cottage.  Nobody was in there so the girls grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge and headed for Bree's bedroom.  They went inside and locked the door.

"We should have got some glasses," Ashley said as they sat down on the edge of the bed.

"There's a glass in my bathroom," Bree suggested.

"But we need another one."

"Okay, I'll go back and get a glass," Bree offered.  Ashley nodded.  "Stay put till I get back."   Ashley nodded again.

Bree made her way back to the kitchen.  Just then Emmett came sauntering in.

"Hello, sweetness," he said cheerfully.

"Um, hi, Auntie Emm," Bree said hesitantly.

"Whatcha up to?"

"Up to?  Nothing.  Why do you ask?"  Bree hoped she didn't sound too guilty.  She wasn't good at lying, or in this case just fudging the facts a little.

"I thought you'd be outside enjoying this fine day," Emmett said with a smile.

"I was but ... um ... I got thirsty," Bree said using a bit of the truth to make her story plausible.

"What can I get you to drink, my lady?" Emmett asked.

"Um, just some water," Bree replied.

"Water?  That sounds pretty mundane.  I thought you would be after something more exotic, like a cocktail," Emmett joked.

"Oh, no, no cocktail for me - just water."  Bree was cringing.  Her Auntie Emm had hit too close to home with his joke.  She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up this pretense if he kept asking questions.

Emmett took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with ice from the fridge.  He was about to fill it with tap water when he remembered the pitcher of lemonade that  was in the fridge.  "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have lemonade than water?" he asked. 

"Oh sure, lemonade would be good," Bree agreed hoping this would speed things up.  Anything to get the glass and escape.

Emmett filled the glass with lemonade and handed it to Bree.  She took a big gulp.  It tasted great since her mouth had suddenly gone so dry.

"Where's your bestie?" Emmett asked.

"Huh?"

"Ashley.  How come you two aren't joined at the hip?"

"Oh, she's around somewhere," Bree said trying to sound casual.

"Is everything okay with you?" Emmett asked with a frown.  Something was definitely off with the little princess today.

"Everything's fine," Bree stated firmly.  "Um, shouldn't you be getting back outside to make sure that everything's going okay?"

"Yeah, I guess I should.  Ta ta," Emmett said as he exited the kitchen.  He glanced back over his shoulder to see Bree make a beeline down the hall.  Something was definitely up with that girl.

"What took so long?" Ashley asked as Bree flew into the bedroom.  She quickly closed the door behind her.

"Auntie Emm was in the kitchen and he was asking me all kinds of questions," Bree blurted out.

"Does he know what we we're doing?" Ashley asked with fear on her face.

"I didn't tell him anything, but he was kind of suspicious."

"Maybe ... maybe we shouldn't do this," Ashley said softly.

"I thought you were tired of being a good girl," Bree snapped.  She knew if Ashley backed out she would too.

"I am.  Let's see what wine tastes like," Ashley stated standing up straighter.  "I got the other glass out of your bathroom."

"Auntie Emm gave me lemonade and ice cubes.  Do you want to mix it with the wine?  We can split that and then fill the glasses up with wine?"

"That sounds good," Ashley agreed as they divided up the contents of Bree's glass.  The two girls struggled to twist off the cap of the wine bottle, but finally were able to get it open.  Bree filled up each glass.

"Cheers!" Bree said with a giggle as she clinked her glass against Ashley's.  That's what she had seen adults do with their drinks.

Each girl took a sip from her glass.  They looked at each other and took another sip.

"Do you like it?" Bree asked.

"It tastes like weird lemonade."

"Yeah.  Maybe we shouldn't have mixed them together."

"Let's finish this off and then try it without the lemonade in the glass," Ashley suggested.

"That's a good idea.  Then we can see what wine really tastes like."

The girls quickly emptied their glasses except for the remaining ice cubes.  Bree filled the glasses with wine from the bottle.

"I hope this tastes better," Bree said as she took a sip.  "Yuck!  It tastes worse."

"It's so sour.  It tastes like it's gone bad?  How come people like to drink it?"

"I don't know.  Maybe you get used to it after you drink enough," Bree suggested.

The girls each took another drink.

"It doesn't get much better," Ashley said making a face.

"Yeah, let's try one more mouthful and see if that makes a differench," Bree slurred.

"It still tastes awful, but not quite as bad as ... as it did afore," Ashley managed to get out.

They nodded at each other and took another drink.  They stared at each other for a couple of minutes.

"I think I've had enough," Ashley said as she put her mostly empty glass down on Bree's nightstand beside the bottle of wine and its remaining contents which weren't much.

"I don't feel so good," Bree said placing her glass beside Ashley's.

"Me either," Ashley agreed,

"Let's lie down on the bed and see if that makes it better," Bree suggested.

The two girls laid down on the bed side by side.  They stared at the ceiling trying to focus.

"If wine makes you feel like this, I don't get it," Bree said.

"Me either," Ashley agreed.

"I think we made a big mistake.  This wasn't a good idea," Bree stated.

She waited for Ashley to reply, but there was no answer.  She looked at her friend who seemed to have fallen asleep.

"Lightweight," Bree whispered.  She giggled to herself.  That was something she had heard people say about someone who couldn't hold their liquor.  Apparently Ashley couldn't hold hers.  That was Bree's last thought before she fell asleep too.

 

*****

 

"Have you seen Ashley?" Susanna asked Justin as they met in the yard of the conjoined cottages.

"I saw her a while ago sitting on the porch of the Wendy house with Bree.  But I haven't seen either of them for quite awhile."

"I don't know where they could have got to," Susanna said with a frown.

"I'm sure they're around here somewhere," Justin said.  "Maybe they went to the Thinking Rock or down the lane.  They'll turn up."

"I hope you're right.  I think I'll walk down to the stream and see if they're there.  I'll feel better when I know where they are."

"Good idea," Justin agreed.  "Tell them to get their butts back here when you find them."

 

Justin watched Susanna head past the Wendy house and down the path to the rock.  He had a vague sense of unease.

Fireworks

Chapter 3

Michael stared at the door contemplating his options.  His first instinct was to run after his mother to try to explain himself further, but deep down in his heart, he knew that Debbie wasn’t ready to hear him.  When she got that way, the best thing was to let her calm down before trying to reason with her.  Michael snorted.

“Sounds just like me,” he mumbled to himself.  While he was considering his next move, the front door opened.  “Ma?”

“Michael!  Uh, what are you doing here?” Ben asked.  Standing just behind Ben, looking over his shoulder, was a very attractive gentleman that Michael had never met.

“I live here,” Michael deadpanned.

“Gênant,” Armand mumbled.

 

*****

 

Brian was heading to the B&B with an extra case of beer when he spied Debbie stomping and cursing her way to the thatched cottage.

“Shit, this can’t be good,” Brian mumbled to himself.  He put down the beer then sprinted over to Deb.  She had steam rising from her ears and flames shooting out from her ass…

“Assuming that for once this has nothing to do with me, what’s wrong?”

“Why the fuck do you think anything’s wrong?” Debbie snapped back.

“Hmm, let me think,” Brian snarked as he struck a thinking pose.

“I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful,” Debbie shrieked.

“True, but then you didn’t raise me at all.  However, you did raise Michael.” 

“He’s an ungrateful little shit just like you!”  Debbie pointed a sharp finger at Brian’s chest.

“Put the weapon away and tell me what he did now,” Brian said as he stepped back from the offending digit.

Seeing all the fight in Debbie suddenly leeched out, Brian redirected her to one of the tables John had set up on the side of the lane.  He waited for Debbie to speak as they sat.

“Where did this come from?” Deb asked when she realized where she was sitting and what she was sitting on.

“One of my brother’s little side projects.  Now stop deflecting and tell me what happened.”

“Since when did you get to be so pushy?” Debbie asked.

“Since Bree was born and I had two Taylors to contend with.  Now spill.”

“Michael invited me to the cottage to talk,” Debbie began.  Brian waited.  “And I thought I was paying him a compliment,” she said as she looked up at Brian.  “He made it sound like it was all my fault.”

Brian rolled his eyes as he shook his head.  After forty some odd years, it never got any easier with the Novotny’s.  Making a giant leap, Brian attempted to decipher the Debbie/Michael puzzle.

“He wanted to talk, to tell you how he’s really been doing and feeling.  Instead of just sitting back and letting him get it all out, you jumped in and that’s when it all went south,” Brian hazarded his guess.  He knew he got it right when Deb’s face turned a similar shade of red to the wig on her head.  Brian waited for the retaliation.

“How?” Debbie started to ask.  Brian arched a brow. 

“Should I go back and try to reason with him?”  Brian narrowed his eyes.

“You’re right, that’ll only make it worse.”  Brian’s eyes relaxed.

“He needed me, he needed his mother and I turned into a screaming shit.”  Brian’s eyes reflected love and sympathy.

“I should have known better.  JR and Hunter have told me about some of the changes he’s been making.  You know he’s been volunteering at the Center.  Some of the kids don’t read very good…well, I mean.”  Debbie corrected herself when she saw a twinkle in Brian’s eyes. 

“Michael brought over some of his comic books.  He lets the kids choose their favorite superhero and then helps them read if they get stuck.”  Brian’s Irish eyes were smiling.

“Why do we always argue?” Debbie asked.  Brian thought it was obvious.  “Wait, let me guess, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” Debbie concluded.  Brian kissed her cheek.

“You’re a good man, Brian Kinney,” Debbie automatically said.  Brian stayed quiet.

“That’s what I told Michael before he blew a gasket.  I couldn’t understand why.  I thought he needed my faith in him.”  Debbie searched Brian’s soulful eyes.

“He needed more than me just saying words; he needed me to listen.”  Brian’s eyes took on a look of determination.

“I should go back to the cabin, right now,” Debbie stated as she began to slide herself off the bench.  Brian’s brow slightly arched.

“No, you’re right, we both need a little time to cool down. Besides, I have more salads to put out.  This is a very hungry bunch,” Deb exclaimed as she pointed toward the yard with her thumb.  Brian wore an amused smile.

“You really are a good man, Brian Kinney.  And I love you.”  Debbie kissed his cheek then gently patted it before hurrying back to the cottage.

Brian sat for a few minutes, smiling until his face took on a look of horror when he remembered the beer.  Nothing worse than warm beer.  He quickly slid off the bench then returned to the task at hand.

 

*****

 

“Where are they?” Justin growled.  “When I find her, I’m going to hug her then I’ll ground her for a year!”  Susanna agreed.

Justin had placed a fresh pitcher of lemonade on a nearby table when Brian showed up.  “Where have you been?” Justin snapped at his spouse.

“Whoa, easy thar, pardner,” Brian drawled.  “What’s the problem?” he asked seeing Justin and Susanna so frazzled.

“We can’t find the girls,” Susanna explained.

“They haven’t been out front,” Brian declared, pointing toward the lane.  “That’s where I’ve been spending most of my day,” he grumbled, not bothering to explain.  At that moment Sarah carefully walked over.  She couldn’t help but overhear the dilemma.

“I know where they are,” Sarah quietly said as she turned to Justin.  “Your daughter offered her private powder room for my usage,” Sarah regally explained.  “She is a dear, dear child.  I was just taking advantage of her kind offer when I noticed that she and her adorable friend,” Sarah paused for effect as she smiled at Susanna, “were napping.”

“Napping?” both Justin and Susanna asked at once.

“Yes, I believe a bottle of wine may have been involved,” Sarah delicately went on.

“I’m going to ground her for life!” Justin burst out.  He and Susanna turned and began to wind their way through the tables to their ultimate goal of the conjoined cottages.  Fortunately for Brian, their journey was hampered by numerous family and guests.

Brian was just about to follow when Sarah stopped him.  “Brian dear, don’t be too hard on Briana, she is becoming a young lady.  And young ladies sometimes go awry.  But she is a good girl so keep that in mind,” Sarah stated wisely.

Brian took the lady’s hand in his then brought it to his lips; his eyes flirted shamelessly.

“Oh my,” Sarah exclaimed as she sat at the nearest table and poured herself some ice cold lemonade.

 

*****

 

“Justin, wait,” Brian called out.  With his soccer skills, Brian successfully maneuvered around each obstacle to catch up with his fuming spouse and friend.  “Let me deal with this,” Brian offered.

“Why?”

“Justin, you remember fourteen.  You’re so close to being considered an adult when you don’t have to ask for permission anymore,” said Brian.

“That’s not…” Susanna was about to interject about responsibilities.

“I know that but the girls don’t.  They see or hear their friends talking about drinking, or smoking, or getting high, or…”

“We get the picture,” Justin said with worry.  He did remember fourteen.  He also remembered what happened to Brian when he was fourteen.  Justin also remembered seventeen when he was old enough in the eyes of the law to eventually become Brian’s stalker, the one that never went away.

“So what do you suggest?” Justin asked as the wind got knocked out of his sails.

“Let them sleep it off.  When they wake up they’ll either be nauseous, hung over, or very hungry.  At the very least, they’ll be embarrassed.  Waking them up now won’t do any good.  They won’t be in the right frame of mind to have a decent conversation.  I’ll go in and check on them and when they’re ready, we’ll talk.”

Justin and Susanna were appeased, for now.  Susanna smiled at Brian.  She was still very worried but didn’t express her doubts in Brian.  Justin leaned in for a quick kiss before they both went back into the fray.

“Justin, I know Brian is a very good father but are you sure about this?” Susanna had to ask.

“If there’s one thing I’m sure about, it's Brian’s ability to handle a teenager.  Especially a teenage Taylor.  It’ll be fine and he knows when to call for reinforcements.  And then I’ll ground her for life!”

 

*****

 

Ben had ushered Armand down the path to the Thinking Rock after their encounter with Michael.  Silence had followed them, even after they were settled on the new bench that had been placed in the shadow of a large tree.  The two men sat there not really knowing what to say to each other.

They looked at the sky, at the stream, at the trees; everywhere but at each other.

Finally Armand couldn't stand it any longer.  "Ben," he said gently, "do you want me to go?"

"Go?"

"Yes, leave here and go back to Paris.  I can be gone quickly, if that is what you wish."

"That's not what I wish."

"Then, you must talk to me.  Tell me what is going on and what you are feeling."

Ben shook his head.  "I don't know what I'm feeling," he muttered.

"Yes you do.  Just tell me.  It is important."

"I was shocked to see Michael here."

"He is your lover."

Ben shook his head.  "He's my ... husband."

"This I did not know."

"I'm sorry, Armand.  I should have told you right off, but Michael and I have been having problems.  We've more or less been apart for months."

"More or less?"

"Mostly more.  We've hardly seen each other.  I went to Paris to get away from our problems.  That's why I didn't bring up the situation when we met.  I didn't want to talk about it.  I didn't know what to say."

"I see."

"Do you?  I like you a lot, Armand.  I enjoy our time together.  I haven't enjoyed my time with Michael in ages.  All we do is fight."

"But your reaction back there ... and his, tells me that your relationship is not over."

Ben looked sheepish.  "Not yet anyway," Ben admitted.

"Then I should be leaving."  Armand stood up.

Ben did the same.  "Your leaving isn't going to solve anything, and it will ruin this holiday for both of us."

"Are you sure?" Armand asked. 

"I want you to stay."

"Then I shall."

 

*****

 

Michael sat on the back deck of his log cabin.  His head felt like it was spinning ... or was full of cotton woolly stuff.  It refused to focus, to give him answers, to let him deal with what had happened.

He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.  This was a technique Hunter had taught him.  It was supposed to calm him down and help him deal with anything that was troubling him.  It didn't seem to be working very well though.

He took about ten more deep breaths and then decided to let it all go.  And surprisingly that seemed to work.  His mind cleared enough for him to think back on what had happened when the front door of the log cabin had opened, and he had seen Ben with that ... that ... man!

What the hell did Ben think he was doing?  How could he bring some strange man to his ... their home?  And a Frenchman to boot!  This must have been what Ben was doing when he stayed in Paris so long.  Michael shook his head.  He would never have believed that Ben could be unfaithful to him.  Even though Michael had suspected that might be happening, he had never really believed it.

Michael realized that he had come to the lane to mend some fences and try to get his life back to normal.  All that he had accomplished was to make his mother mad at him, to make Ben feel uncomfortable and to see his world disintegrate in front of his eyes.

He thought back to seeing Ben and that man coming into his home.  His heart had leaped to his throat and then it had pounded so hard he thought it might force itself out of his chest.

Ben had made some perfunctory introduction.  What was the name he used ... Armand.  Yeah, Armand.  Ben said he had met him in Paris and they had become friends.  Friends!  Yeah, right.  Likely story.  But why would Ben lie?  It wasn't like he and Ben had been close over the last months.  Ben could have easily called "Armand" his lover, his boyfriend, his god-knows-what.

Maybe they were just friends, but that didn't seem too likely to Michael.  Ha hated to think of Ben being with someone else.  He still believed that they belonged together - Michael and Ben forever.  That had been his hope when he came to the lane.  He thought maybe he and Ben could talk and start to make things better between them.  And instead Ben had brought that man to their cabin.

Michael leaned his head back against the chaise he was sitting on.  He tried to keep the tears behind his eyelids which he closed tightly, but he could feel them start to trail down his face.

"Fuck!" he muttered.

He stood up and wiped at his eyes.  He wasn't going to wallow.  He wasn't wanted or needed here.  He'd go back to Pittsburgh.  He could wallow just as well there, and he wouldn't have to deal with anyone bothering him.  He wouldn't have to look at his mother's accusing eyes.  Or Ben and his fancy man.  Or Brian and his attitude.  Or any of them looking at him with blame or worse yet ... pity.

Michael entered the cabin about to go upstairs to pack up, when he heard a tapping on his front door.  He was tempted to ignore it and just keep going upstairs.

The knock came louder.  He decided he might as well answer the door and tell whoever it was to fuck off.  Slamming the door in someone's face might make him feel better.

Michael yanked the door open ready to shout his expletive at whoever he saw standing there.  As he opened his mouth to speak, he felt himself pulled into a tight and overwhelming hug.  Arms crushed him against the ample bosom.

"Ma," he gasped, "can't breathe."

Debbie reluctantly loosened her grip on her son, but she didn't let him go.  "Better?" she asked.

"Better, but it would be great if you released me altogether."

"I can't," Debbie said in a whisper.

"Yes, you can."

"No, not until you forgive me."

"Forgive you?"

"That's what I said."

"But..."

"Do you forgive me?" she asked again tightening her grip some more.

"Okay, okay, I forgive you," Michael gasped.  "Now let me go."

"See, that wasn't so hard," Debbie said with a smile as she finally released her son.

"Jesus, Ma," Michael said, "I think you cracked my ribs."

"I did no such thing.  I just needed to get your attention."

"Well, you got it.  What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"We tried that already, and it didn't go so good," Michael said with a grimace.

"I'm admitting that a lot of what happened was my fault," Debbie said contritely.

"A lot?"

"Well, most."

"Most?"

"Okay, okay, all."

Michael smiled.  He was through trying to be stern.  "It wasn't all your fault," he admitted.

"I really do want to talk," Debbie repeated, "and this time I promise to listen and keep my big mouth shut."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Debbie opened her mouth to contradict her son, but then she thought better of it.  She made the motion of locking her lips and throwing away the key.

Michael raised an eyebrow.  "Can I really believe that?"

Debbie nodded.

"Okay, come in and have a seat," Michael said leading her into the living room.  Michael sat in a chair and Debbie sat on the couch.  "So what do you want to talk about?"

Debbie raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Right," Michael said.  "I'm supposed to talk."

Debbie nodded and smiled encouragingly.

Michael drew in a steadying breath before speaking.  "I came out here to try to set some things straight."

Debbie smiled slightly and nodded again.

Michael waited for some smart remark about being straight, but nothing came.  "My life has kind of fallen apart lately.  I ... I'm really lonely.  I seem to have alienated just about everybody."

Debbie looked sympathetic to the best of her ability.

"I started going to the Jason Kemp Center to talk to Hunter and volunteer a little bit."

Debbie smiled her approval.

"Hunter has really helped me face some facts.  I ... started to realize that I was pretty demanding in what I expected from other people, but I didn't expect to do the same for them.  This cabin became the prime example.  I expected Ben to leave here when it was the place he needed to be to write his book.  I wanted him in Pittsburgh with me, but I never really considered what he needed.  I blamed him for not doing what I wanted."

Debbie nodded in agreement.

Michael frowned.  "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Debbie considered for a moment and then she said, "You are doing just fine without any input from me."

"Glad you think so," Michael replied with a small smile.  "I want to show people that I can think of them first.  I wanted you to know that I shouldn't be so hard on Peter.  I'm going to try to handle that better."

"That would be appreciated."

Michael hesitated for a minute.  "Where did you learn to do that nodding and smiling stuff?"

Debbie chuckled.  "The inimitable Brian Kinney."

"Really?  I haven't seen Brian do that before."

"Me either, but he used it on me after I left here.  That's why I'm back."

"I'll have to try that," Michael said.  "It seems to work."

"Yeah it does.  But ... what are you going to do about Ben?" Debbie felt compelled to ask.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Michael said sadly.  "You don't know what happened after you left here."

"No I don't. So tell me."

Michael proceeded to describe the scene with Ben and the Frenchman.  He tried consciously not to be too judgmental and he encouraged his mother to stay out of it.  He had visions of Debbie confronting Ben and Armand and ripping both their balls off.  Michael now understood that Ben would make his own decisions.  It wasn't up to Michael to decide for him.

 

As the discussion continued, Debbie realized this was the first time she and her son had really talked honestly in a very, very long time.

Fireworks

Chapter 4

 

Brian gently tapped on Bree’s door.  He wasn’t expecting a reply but came armed with hundreds of excuses of why he was there.  Not hearing anything from within her room, Brian tried the door knob.  “At least it’s not locked,” he mumbled to himself as he turned the knob then quietly slipped into the room.  Brian smiled as he spied the girls sleeping soundly on the bed.  Someone was snoring; he suspected it was Bree.  She sounded like Justin with a really bad head cold.  He casually noted the differences between the girls.  Bree, very fair, blond, and petite while Ashley was darker and appeared to be growing into her gangly legs.  Brian never met Susanna’s ex but he surmised that he must be tall.  Susanna was a bit shorter than Justin.  No matter, the girls had been best friends from almost the moment they met.

As Brian looked around the room, nothing appeared out of place, if you ignored the nearly empty wine bottle on the dresser and the lemonade.  He assumed the wine, not the best vintage, was not to the girls’ liking, hence the need to mix it with lemonade.  He shuddered at the thought, “Have I taught you nothing?”  Brian laughed to himself.  He truly was a snob.  Brian settled himself in the rocking chair in the corner of the room to wait until the girls woke up.  He didn’t have long to wait.

The girls groaned as they woke, the results of their experimentation becoming evident.  Ashley held her head in her hands as Bree dashed off to the bathroom.  Brian waited a few minutes until he heard the toilet flush before he ventured forth.

“Hey, Squirt,” Brian softly called out as he rapped on the bathroom door.  He entered when he heard a mumbled replied.  Brian was greeted with the sight of his beautiful daughter hugging the porcelain goddess and moaning pitifully.  He snorted as he smirked. 

“This looks familiar,” he announced.  Brian dampened a cloth and handed it to Bree. 

“Wipe your face, you’ll feel better.”  He dampened a second cloth, found a couple of aspirin to take to Ashley.  After making sure the young lady was all right, Brian returned to Bree. 

“Are you ready to face the music?”

“Yes, Dada,” Bree mumbled.  Brian extended his hand which Bree took, and they went back into her room.  She settled on the bed next to her friend.

“Well, ladies, aside from the effects you’re now suffering,  due to your close encounter with the vine, don’t be surprised if you receive additional punishments from your father and your mother,” Brian stated with poignant pauses when he mentioned parents.  The girls looked suitably subdued. 

“And what the hell gave you the idea to mix wine with lemonade?”  Brian realized that it was a stupid question but it was the first thing that popped into his head.  Brian pulled over the vanity stool to sit in front of the girls.   Not realizing the question was rhetorical, Ashley slowly raised her hand.

“The chair recognizes Ms. Ashley,” Brian quipped.

“The wine didn’t taste so good; we thought the lemonade would help,” Ashley murmured.  Bree and Brian stared at Ashley.

“The next time you two decide to take up mixology, come to me first.  And promise me that this won’t happen again until you’re legal or…”  Brian qualified his statement at the girls’ huff of indignation.  “Or, when you see me enjoying a nice glass of wine, you may ask for a sip.  I’ll decide if you deserve it.”  Brian glared at Bree; she knew her Dada was serious.

“As for you, Ms. Ashley, I leave you to your mother.”

“Dada, are you angry with me?” Bree asked meekly.

“That’s a difficult question to answer.  I think I’m more disappointed than angry.  But I remember what it was like to be your age.  And I remember getting into trouble for my behavior.  I had no one to ask.  You have parents you can ask.”

“Ask what, Mr. Brian?”

“Ask for a taste of beer or wine or ask what’s it’s like to do drugs or smoke.  And while I’m at it, ask about sex.  The point is, before you decide to experiment on your own with chemicals or anything else, ask us first.”

“But that might make my mommy angry,” Ashley ventured.

“And this didn’t?” Brian asked as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand toward the wine.  “Your mom couldn’t find you.  It frightened her.  Same with your daddy, Bree.  You disappeared, one minute you were visiting with friends and family, the next your parents couldn’t find you.  They were both scared.  You’re lucky Sarah saw you first and warned me.  I convinced your mother and Justin to let me talk to you.”  Brian let that sink in a bit.

“A word of advice - grovel.  Admit you were wrong, apologize for scaring the shit out of them then promise that the next time you’re curious about something you don’t think we’d approve of, you'll ask us.”

“But, Dada, how will we know when you won’t approve of something?”  Bree’s violet blue eyes were open wide.

Brian stood, squatted in front if his daughter then pecked a kiss onto her nose.  “If you have to hide to do it then you’ll know.”  Brian stood up straight and gently poked Ashley’s cute nose with his index finger.  He returned the stool to its rightful place then turned to leave. 

“I suggest you clean up this room, clean up yourselves then come out to talk to your parents,” Brian said with a warning smile.  “I’ll tell Justin and Susanna that you’ll meet them at the bench by the stream.”

“The bench?” Bree asked.

“You’ll see it when you get there,” Brian said as he opened the door to leave.  He stepped out into the hall then backed up.  Grabbing the wine bottle, Brian left the room.

The girls watched Brian leave then did as they were told.

 

*****

 

Sam roared up to the gate that stood between him, Lindsay, and from what he was told, a hell of a lot of friends and family of one Brian Kinney.  As he idled his motorcycle, Sam debated using the temporary code given to him by Lindsay.  She had originally offered to drive him to the lane but the thought of a serious car ride with Charles turned his stomach.  Sam declined the offer but tentatively accepted the invitation to the lane.  His motorcycle rumbled beneath him as he punched in the code, waited for the heavy gate to open then slowly rumbled his way in.

“Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Sam murmured to himself as he slowly passed Emmett’s cottage.  The artist in him was dying to sketch what he saw.  “I don’t do landscapes,” Sam grumbled as he drove up to the thatched cottage.  He pulled over, turned off the engine and removed his helmet.

“Where the fuck am I?” he asked himself.  The clover lawn surrounding the thatched cottage was in full bloom as were the flowers closer to the cottage itself.   The simplicity yet complexity of the structure nearly overwhelmed Sam.  “Is this what inspires Justin Taylor?”

Before seeking out Lindsay, Sam couldn’t resist walking the lane.  He began with Emmett’s cottage with its quaint white picket fence.  It was just as endearing as the thatched cottage with unique features that drew him in.  Sam circled back toward the greenhouse, almost missing the hidden driveway that led to the log cabin.

“Oh, they didn’t, did they?” Sam said as he spied the massive structure.  The cabin seemed out of place yet against the trees and surrounding shrubs, the cabin fit.

Sam crossed the lane, heading toward the greenhouse bypassing the B&B and the thatched cottage.  He knew of the greenhouse’s existence because of Justin’s nudes; many of which used the greenhouse plants and flowers as a backdrop.

“Hello, anyone home,” Sam called out as he entered the stone façade that led into the glass sanctuary.  Not expecting an answer, Sam jumped when he received a reply.

“Only us chickens!” 

Sam looked down the main aisle where he saw two men standing by what appeared to be a waterfall. 

“Incredible,” Sam mumbled.  “Brian?” Sam called out as he squinted to get a better look.  His senses were overloaded with the sounds of the water flowing over the stone wall and by the fragrance of the flowers.

“Nope, just a reasonable facsimile,” Gus quipped.  Ray laughed at his partner’s antics.  “And you’re Sam Auerbach,” Gus stated as he met Sam halfway with his hand extended.

“You weren’t kidding,” Sam said when he got a good look at the younger version of Brian.  They had almost met in Paris, but Sam had been preoccupied with getting Lindsay's attention rather than meeting the younger Kinney.

“Word of warning,” Ray began.  “There are two more versions of Brian on the lane but one has very distinctive red hair.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Sam acknowledged.

“I’m Ray and the Brian clone is Gus,” said Ray as they all shook hands.

“Gus Kinney?” Sam asked.

“You know me,” Gus asked with a slight edge to his voice.

“I know of you, from your mother, but that’s not it.  I know your work.  The fractal exhibit; it's still showing in several galleries along with the paintings.  It’s brilliant and you were just a kid when you created it,” Sam spoke with awe.

“Um, thank you,” Gus expressed as his cheeks pinked.  “I had a lot of fun working with Justin on that project.”

“Do you collaborate often with Taylor?”

“To a certain degree,” Gus said.

“He’s being modest.  Much of the Paris exhibit was Gus’ idea,” Ray boasted.

“You mean splitting up the pieces and showing them in the smaller galleries; genius,” Sam gushed.

“It really was a team effort,” Gus added.

“I’m sure it was,” Sam agreed, not pushing.  He scanned the greenhouse then focused his attention toward the waterfall.  “That is a waterfall, right?”

“Yes, it is,” Gus said proudly, relieved to have the attention removed from himself.  “My Uncle John built it along with the greenhouse.  My father and Justin went to Hawaii several years ago.  They were inspired by a museum there and by the local flora.  My dad wanted a greenhouse.”

“He sure as hell got one,” Sam stated the obvious.  “No wonder Taylor is so prolific.  He has an unending source of inspiration.”

“You sound jealous,” Gus observed.

“Maybe I am.  I like large.  Taylor’s style varies but his focus to detail is unwavering.  His current miniatures are breathtaking.  Yeah, maybe I am a little jealous,” Sam admitted.

“Show me around?” Sam asked after a while.  The boys agreed and gave Sam the guided tour of the greenhouse and of the other homes that made up the Edna’s Treasures Lane.

“Just up that way is the latest cottage.  It sits in the meadow and it's eco-friendly,” Gus began to explain until a large dog bounded up to them.

“Holy shit!  Is that a wolf?” Sam shouted as the large dog looked over Sam with curiosity.  They were soon joined by two more dogs.  “Why do I feel like I’m suddenly in a Disney movie?”

“Don’t worry, Little Beau is a big mush,” Gus indicated the largest of the three wolf dogs.

“Little Beau?” Sam squeaked.  “And Beau senior?”

“Beau,” Gus called out.  Lucie and Little Beau made way for the leader of their small pack.  Beau might be slightly smaller than Beau junior but he was no less regal or powerful.  The older dog presented himself front and center.  “Beau, this is Sam.  He’s a good guy.”

Sam stood his ground under the close scrutiny from the dark grey dog.  Beau finally gave his bark of approval as Sam passed Beau’s test.  Lucie and Little Beau agreed with Beau’s appraisal then the three trotted off as they continued their rounds.

“What the hell just happened?” Sam asked when he was finally able to breathe.

“It means you’ve passed inspection,” Gus said with a smirk as he patted the older man on the back. 

Ray chuckled as he saw the relief on Sam’s face.  “I think you’re ready for a beer,” said Ray. 

Sam agreed as the boys led Sam toward the gardens of the conjoined cottages and to Lindsay.

“Word of warning,” Gus said with a serious tone.  Sam was all ears.  “My mom and Charles are not that serious; neither one of them are prepared to give up their home continent.  You, on the other hand, live here.  Hurt my mom and you’ll have more than the dogs to contend with.  Got it?”  Gus’s glare was worthy of the originator.

“Got it,” Sam declared as he held one hand up and the other over his heart.

“Just as long as we understand each other,” Gus added as he continued to lead Sam to where Lindsay was sitting.

“There is much understanding,” Sam swore.

“Sam!” Lindsay called out with a smile when she saw the beleaguered artist.

“Sam,” Charles and Melanie repeated with sneers as they both spied the rogue artist.  Charles and Melanie glared at each other.

“Be nice, you two,” Lindsay quietly admonished before she warmly greeted Sam with a hug and a kiss.

“I can be nice,” Charles and Mel grumbled simultaneously.  Lindsay rolled her eyes as she then focused her attentions on Sam.

 

*****

 

"How are you feeling?" Bree asked Ashley as they washed their faces with cool water and brushed their teeth.  They had finished cleaning up Bree's room.

"Sick ... and scared," Ashley whispered.

"Me too."

"My mom is going to be so mad and disgusted with me," Ashley said as tears started to roll down her face.

"My dad too," Bree agreed as she pulled Ashley into a hug and held her as she cried.  Bree felt a few tears escape her eyes too.

Ashley finally pulled herself away and wiped at her eyes.  She grabbed a tissue from the bathroom counter and blew her nose.  Bree did the same.

"We better wash our faces again," Bree said and the girls did just that.

"Now what?" Ashley asked as they finished drying their faces.

"I guess we have to go to the stream and face the music."

"I don't want to," Ashley moaned.

"Me either, but we have to."

"Couldn't we just run away?"

"Sure, let's do that," Bree replied sarcastically.  "And how far do you think we would get out here?  We're kind of in the middle of nowhere."

"I know.  I'm sorry, but I'm in so much trouble," Ashley said softly.  "Mommy's going to kill me."

"Your mother would never kill you, Ash," Bree reassured her.  "But I bet we'll be grounded until we're fifty."

"That would be worse."

"Everything's going to be worse," Bree said, "but we might as well go face them."

"If we have to," Ashley gave in.

Bree took her friend's hand and they made their way out of the cottage.  They crossed the backyard and headed past the Wendy house toward the stream.  They were both surprised that no one stopped them or questioned them.  Bree looked back over her shoulder.  She wondered how much the people at the party knew about what they had done.

"Are you sure we can't run away?" Ashley asked as they walked along the path.

"I'm sure," Bree said steeling herself for what she knew was coming.

They were almost to the clearing.  Both girls could feel their heart rates accelerating.  Bree squeezed Ashley's hand. 

Ashley looked at Bree, her brow wrinkled in distress.  "I think I'm going to faint," Ashley whispered.

"You'll be fine.  Stay strong."

Ashley looked like she was ready to throw up, but she trudged forward with her friend.  They entered the clearing and saw their parents sitting on the bench that had been placed there. 

"They're waiting for us," Ashley whispered.

"You knew they would be," Bree responded.

"Yeah, but I hoped they might have changed their minds or got sidetracked or gone to North Carolina."

"North Carolina!"

"Well, somewhere else."

"No such luck."

"Here goes," Ashley said as they approached their parents.  Ashley's stomach was doing somersaults and Bree's wasn't far behind.

Susanna got up and hugged her daughter hard.  "You had me so worried when I couldn't find you."

"I'm sorry, Mommy.  I never meant to worry you."

"And you," Justin said hugging his daughter as well.  "I can't believe what has happened."

"I'm sorry too, Daddy."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, sweetheart," Justin replied letting go of his daughter. 

He and Susanna sat down on the bench with the girls standing in front of them.  A heavy silence hung over them all, with the parents studying their naughty children.  Bree and Ashley waited nervously.  They studied the ground at their feet.  Neither dared to speak until their fate had been decided.

"What do you think we should do with these two who should have known better?  What they did was totally wrong," Justin said to Susanna.

"I have some ideas about what to do with them, but whatever it is we need to make an example of them so this never happens again."

"Daddy..." Bree began.

Justin raised his hand and Bree held her tongue.  She waited.  Justin whispered in Susanna's ear and she nodded in agreement.

"We think a punishment is necessary for what you have done," she said very seriously.  "Alcohol of any kind can be a dangerous thing if you don't know what you're doing.  You should not have tried it on your own.  You're both lucky that all you got as a result was a sick feeling and a headache.  There is something called alcohol poisoning.  Drinking a whole bottle of wine at your age could have led to that."

"But, we didn't drink it all," Bree tried to defend herself.

"That's not the point," Justin said harshly, "and Susanna wasn't finished."

"Sorry," Bree said.

"We hope you understand the seriousness of what you've done," Susanna continued.  "This is not something that can be forgiven easily."

"We're really sorry," Bree said.  Ashley bobbed her head in agreement but didn't say anything.

"I'm sure you are, but mostly because you got caught," Justin said.

The girls stared at the ground not knowing what to say, especially since Justin was right.

"We think," Susanna said turning to Justin who nodded in agreement.  "We think you two should decide your punishment.  What you choose as punishment will tell us how seriously you take your actions.  Is that understood?"

Both girls nodded.

"Do you want to discuss this between the two of you?" Justin asked.  Both nodded again.  "Go over to the big rock.  You have five minutes," Justin stated looking at his watch.

The girls walked over to the big rock and climbed up.

"What should we tell them?" Ashley asked.

"We could ground ourselves for a week," Bree suggested.

"That doesn't sound very serious."

"Two weeks?"

Ashley shook her head.  "I think we should give up soccer camp this summer."

"No," Bree responded.  "I can't do that.  I'm supposed to be an apprentice with the main coach."

"But it would show we are serious," Ashley reminded her.

"Let's think of something else."

The girls went over a whole lot of possibilities, but had trouble deciding.  Some things seemed too easy and others too hard.  They knew they had to offer some hard punishments.

"One more minute," Justin called.

"So what do you think?" Bree asked. 

"Let's use them all," Ashley said.

"All?" Bree replied.  "I don't want to do all that we discussed."

"Neither do I, but then they'll know we're serious," Ashley reminded her.

"Okay," Bree said uncertainly.

"You tell them," Ashley stated.  "You're better at that kind of thing."

Bree sighed heavily as they got down off the rock.  This was going to be an awful summer.  They walked over to the bench.

"Have you made a decision?" Justin asked looking very stern.  The girls nodded.  "Then tell us what your punishment will be, and it better be good."

Bree took a deep breath and looked at Ashley.  Ashley nodded and Bree began, "We think we should not go to soccer camp."

"Really?" Justin asked in surprise.  "Is that all?"

"No," Bree said reluctantly.  "We should be grounded for a month, and we should clean our homes completely twice this summer and be responsible for clearing the dishes after every meal and doing the laundry all summer."  Bree had said all that with one breath.  She now drew in a long breath.

"That's quite a list," Justin said.  "I have a problem with you missing soccer camp.  Bree, you have some obligations at the camp.  You shouldn't shirk them."

"No, Daddy."

"We've already paid for both of you to go to soccer camp, so you should go.  Right, Susanna?"

"I agree."

"The rest of the things you listed, we'll have you do," Justin stated.  "Is that fair?"

Both girls nodded.

"Then run along back to the party, and no more liquor."

"No, Daddy."

"No, Mommy."

The girls left.

"Well that was interesting," Justin said.

"Yeah, I would have been happy with the grounding for a month," Susanna chuckled.

"Me too, but a little manual labor never hurt anyone."

"That's for sure," Susanna agreed as they both chuckled.

 

*****

 

The girls walked along the path back to the conjoined cottages.

Bree's mind was going ninety miles an hour.  "I think we gave them too much," she said.

"I'm just happy it's over ... and we still get to go to soccer camp."

"Yeah, that's something."

"Why are you sounding so down?" Ashley asked.

"We gave ourselves a shitload of work for the summer," Bree stated with a scowl.

"You shouldn't use that language."

"My Dada uses it all the time."

"We're in enough trouble as it is," Ashley reminded her.

"Yeah, but I think we got taken."

"No!  How?"

"We could have gotten away with a lot less," Bree informed her.

"I don't think so," Ashley said.

"You're so naive."

"Am not," Ashley retorted.  "But I'm never drinking again."

"Me either ... until I'm of age, or there's a good reason to do it."

"A good reason?  How can there be a good reason?"

"I don't know, but I'm leaving my options open."

 

Bree walked ahead at a brusque pace.  After Ashley got over her shock, she ran after her seemingly unrepentant friend.

Fireworks

Chapter 5

 

Brian sat comfortably in his garden, basking in the warmth of the day, surrounded by good friends and family.  Even though his lane appeared to be currently inhabited by thousands of people, Brian found himself with little to do.  John and his crew had the B&B grills going non-stop while Gus and Ray took over grills in the garden of the conjoined cottages.  Emmett and minions kept refreshments flowing while the women in Brian’s life, took pride in making sure there were sides and other good things to nibble on throughout the day.  The sitting arrangements started from the garden, extending under the greenhouse arbor path, toward the back to the greenhouse, ending at the B&B.  John’s men had strategically placed two benches under the arbor which provided additional shade for anyone requiring a brief respite from the sun.

All Brian had to do was to sit back, enjoy himself, and prevent the occasional “fire”.

“Hey, Bri,” Michael called out as he approached Brian’s table.

“Hey, Mikey, need a cold one?” Brian asked as he waved his beer.

“Nah, I’m good,” Michael replied as he sat, waving his own cold brew.

“You speak to your mother?”

“Yeah, I did,” Michael said.

“Really?”  Brian wasn’t sure if it was a productive conversation or just a continuation of their previous shouting match.

“Really.  It was…nice.”

“That’s good, Mikey, I’m happy for you,” Brian sincerely stated.

“Yeah, me too.”

The old friends sat under an umbrella, breathing fresh air, catching snippets of casual conversation, laughter, and the sight of their vast family.

“Life is good, Mikey,” Brian threw out.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed with a contented smile.  His life wasn’t perfect, he still had a lot to learn,  but he hadn’t felt this good in years.  Michael missed Ben but he realized that he had to fix himself before he could try to fix his marriage.  And Michael was determined to fix it no matter what the outcome.  He and Ben were always good friends as well as lovers.  Michael planned on working hard to repair the damage he had caused.  But for now, he was happy just sitting with his best and long-time friend, one Brian Kinney.

“Yeah,” Michael repeated.

They sat together in the garden in companionable silence enjoying the afternoon.

 

*****

 

“Magnifique!” Armand exclaimed as did many of the French contingent of Kinnetik as Molly played tour guide.  She led them around the lane explaining the thought behind each home ending with the grand finale at the greenhouse.  Everyone was bowled over by the waterfall and koi pond.

“Brian created this?” Armand asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Molly explained.  “Brian had a vision and John brought it to life,” Molly said as she showed the group Brian’s original sketch and John’s transformation into proper architectural plans.  John had preserved the drawings in a specially sealed framed to keep the moisture out.  It hung proudly on the wall in the antechamber of the greenhouse.

“Incroyable,” someone murmured.  Molly smiled brightly.

“Why?” Molly heard someone ask.  She turned to face Gui.

“Why what?”

“Why create something so elaborate?  Is it to show off his wealth?” Gui said with a sneer.  Molly was about to rip Gui a new one when another voice answered.

“Love,” Justin stated with emphasis.

“What?” Gui replied with a start.  He was shocked to see Justin standing there, inches away from him.

Justin had come into the greenhouse seeking a few moments of calm.  The greenhouse was always a peaceful refuge on the lane.  It brought pleasure to the lane residents especially to Brian and Bree.

“Love,” Justin repeated.  “Brian’s love of our daughter, his love of nature, and his love of gardening with our daughter.”  As Justin was explaining the inspiration for their greenhouse, he could hear Molly translating in the background.

The group continued to follow Justin around the greenhouse, stopping with him as Justin examined each flower and plant.

“What do you see when you look at the flower?” Armand asked with almost an inner knowledge of what inspires an artist. 

Justin gave him a serene smile.  “I’m not sure how to explain it.  Sometimes it’s very simple; I like what I see and my hand wants to draw.  Sometimes I’m inspired to create something large and unusual.  That usually gets me in trouble,” Justin said with a laugh.  He then went on to describe what happened when he created his metal sculptures or the henge as Brian called it.

“It took weeks before my eyebrow grew back.  Brian wasn’t too happy with me.”  Justin giggled.

“Bree’s rose?” Armand asked as they walked passed a large ornate flower pot that contained the rose bush dedicated to Bree.

“Bree loves the color pink.  Brian found this variety of rose and decided to grow it.  He dedicated it to our daughter,” Justin said with a smile and a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Justin quietly stood in front of Bree’s rose for a few moments.  The small plant that Brian had purchased years ago had flourished under his care.  Justin shook his head; their daughter was growing up.

“Please excuse me,” Justin said finally breaking from his reverie.  “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time on the lane,” said Justin before leaving the greenhouse and heading back to his guests.

 

*****

 

The Sarah Kingsley sat under one of the big trees in the backyard of the conjoined cottages.  She took a sip of her lemonade then gently fanned herself with a Chinese fan made of fragrant sandalwood.  Her husband had brought it to her after one of his trips to the Orient.  The intricately carved fan was one of her favorite possessions.

"Are you okay, mother?" Sharon asked.  "You're not getting overheated, are you?"

"I'm fine, dear, although it is a warm day."

"Yes, and that's not the only heat someone is feeling," Sharon stated nodding towards the Wendy house.

Sarah turned toward the Wendy house and saw the glum faces of the two girls sitting on the porch.  "I think that building is more a doghouse than a Wendy house at the moment."

"They do look pretty sad."

"I feel badly for them," Sarah said with a little cluck.  "Briana's a lovely young lady, but I guess every child has to test the limits of how far they can go as they grow up."

"That's very philosophical of you, mother.  I thought you would take a harder stance about the alcohol issue."

"Hmph," Sarah said, "I was young once.  I can understand what the girls did, and why they did it.  It's all part of growing up."

"So you don't think they should have been punished, which I assume they have."  Sharon found her mother's comments about this incident very unlike her usual position on following rules of propriety.

"Knowing Brian and Justin, and looking at those faces on the girls, I'm sure they have been punished.  Children have hard lessons to learn in life.  Quite frankly, I'm surprised that their parents didn't make more of a public issue about them drinking that bottle of wine."

"Whatever their punishment is to be, it has made them pretty forlorn.  I think it must be harsh enough without the whole world knowing about it," Sharon stated.

"I can see them keeping it in the family.  Undoubtedly dear Brian and Justin did not want to spoil the party for the rest of their guests."

"Very considerate of them," Sharon agreed.

"Not everyone is so considerate of others," Sarah observed.

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you felt the ripples of antagonism amongst some of the guests?"

"Like who?" Sharon asked with a frown.

"Really dear, you should pay more attention."  Sarah fanned herself harder as Sharon sighed, knowing the conversation was over.  She looked around at the guests wondering what she had missed.

 

*****

 

"Hey, what's up with you two?" Patrick asked as he approached the Wendy house.

"Nuffin," Bree replied with a scowl.

"Sure doesn't look like nuffin."

Bree scowled harder.  Patrick frowned, knowing something was going on.

"Ashley, what happened?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Bree's mad at me.  She doesn't want to talk and neither do I."

"Are you mad at Ashley?"  Bree nodded.  "Why?"  There was no answer.  "Come on, Bree, you know you can talk to me.  I'm going to find out eventually anyway."  Patrick waited.

"Then you can just wait until that happens," Bree said in her most snarky voice.

"But I'm here with you now, and I want to help."

"Nobody can help," Bree groused.

"How do you know?  Just tell me."

"You tell him," Bree ordered Ashley.

"I'm not saying anything," Ashley retorted.

"Oh, fu....dge!" Bree said.  "Okay, so we drank a bottle of wine and fell asleep and Dada found us and we're being punished.  Are you happy now?"

"Not in the least," Patrick said shaking his head.  "What were you thinking?"

"See, there you go," Bree accused.  "I knew you'd lecture us or tell us how stupid we were.  We already know that, so go away!"

"Not going anywhere," Patrick stated.  He sat down beside the girls on the porch of the Wendy house.

"Leave me alone," Bree ordered.

Patrick shook his head.  "So what's your punishment?" he asked cheerfully.  It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"It's all my fault," Ashley said mournfully.  "I was too chicken and too stupid."  She wiped at her eyes to get rid of the tears that kept escaping.

"It's not all your fault," Bree replied.  "I agreed to it too."  She put her arm around Ashley's shoulders and the two girls hugged.  The silence was broken.

"I'm sorry, Bree," Ashley said, now crying outright.

"I'm sorry too," Bree said as she struggled not to cry.  "I got us into this in the first place."

"We both decided to do it," Ashley stated.  "I'm so sorry."

"I wish we hadn't done it.  We were dumb."

The two girls clung to each other letting the emotions take over.

"Okay, enough," Patrick interrupted them.  "Let's put an end to this pity party."

"Shut up!" both girls said simultaneously.

"Hey, I'm here to help," Patrick protested.

"Yeah, we heard that before.  Fat lot of help you are," Bree declared finally releasing Ashley from their hug.  Both girls wiped at their faces.

"I could help if you'd let me," Patrick said.

Bree drew in a long breath as she wiped away the last of her tears.  "There's nothing you can do."

"What punishment did you get?"

"Daddy and Ashley's mom were real crafty," Bree said.

"Crafty?"

"They made us come up with our own punishment."

Patrick chuckled.  "One of those."

"What do you mean?" Ashley asked.

"My dads pulled that on me a couple of times."

"They did?"

"Yep, and I see why you think they were crafty?"

"What did you do when they made you tell them your punishment?" Bree asked.

"I gave myself more than they ever would have thought of," Patrick admitted.

"Same here," both girls said.

"You did something wrong?" Ashley asked.  She always thought of Patrick as perfect.

"Every now and then," Patrick laughed.  "So, you guys punished yourselves too much?"

"Yeah," Bree said.  "I think we could have got away with a lot less."

"What is the punishment?" Patrick asked.

"We said we shouldn't be allowed to go to soccer camp," Ashley volunteered.

"But it's already paid for, and you're an assistant, Bree," Patrick said looking horrified that the girls would offer to forego camp.

"That's what Daddy said.  So, we're still going to camp"

"That's good," Patrick said.

"The actual punishment is worse," Bree declared.  "We are grounded for a month, and we have to clean our homes completely twice this summer and we're responsible for clearing the dishes after every meal and doing the laundry all summer."

"That doesn't sound so bad,"

"Hmmpf," Bree responded.  "Not so bad?  I think it's awful."

"Look," Patrick said trying to show them the up side of their punishment.  "We clear the dishes after most meals anyway, don't we?"  Bree nodded and so did Ashley.  "We do laundry occasionally."  The girls nodded again.  "So you just have to do it on a regular basis for a while."

"I guess so," Bree said.

"I'll help you clean, Bree, and we could go to Ashley's and help her clean when we get done here."

"You'd come to my place and help me?" Ashley asked in astonishment.

"Sure," Patrick replied.  "I can't do anything about you being grounded, but it could have been worse." 

"Yeah, I thought we might be grounded for life," Ashley said.

Patrick chuckled.  "That might have been a bit extreme."

"Yeah," both girls said.  Ashley beamed at Patrick for his offer.  Bree even smiled a little bit.

"See, it's not so bad.  You'll get through this," Patrick advised them.

"I guess so," Bree agreed.  She did feel a little better.

 

*****

 

Riley walked across the backyard of the conjoined cottages.  He carried a bottle of beer and a glass of lemonade.  He arrived at two chairs under one of the big trees.  He handed the lemonade to his friend and partner, Danny.  He sat down in the empty chair.

"Are you sure you don't want a beer or some wine?" he asked as he took a sip of his own beer.

"This fucking arthritis," Danny griped.  "The medication helps some, but liquor of any kind doesn't mix well with it."

"Sorry you're not feeling too great today."

"I feel like this most days, but let's not talk about that," Danny said.

Riley nodded.  "Have you seen Debbie?" he asked.  Danny shook his head.  "Michael?"  Another shake of the head.  "JR?" 

"I said hi to her when she and Jacqueline first arrived.  She said she would see me later, but so far, no sign of her."

"She'll pop by at some point," Riley assured him.

"You know," Danny said looking towards the heavens, "getting old is the shits."

"It ain't for sissies," Riley agreed.

"Been a sissy all my life," Danny chuckled.

Riley laughed out loud.  "There's the Danny I know and love."

"Still?" 

"Always."

The two men looked at each other and smiled.  Each sipped his drink.

After a minute or two Riley said, "I'm going to talk to Bree.  Something's going on, and she doesn't look too happy."

"What can you do about it?" Danny asked.

"I don't know, but I feel like I should try."  Riley handed Danny his beer.  "Guard that for me until I come back."

"You got it, as long as you do come back."

"Of course I will," Riley said giving his partner a kiss on the cheek.

Riley walked over to the Wendy house.  The two girls were still sitting on the porch.  Riley had seen Patrick leave a few minutes ago.  The girls didn't look quite as forlorn as they had before Patrick had talked to them, but they certainly weren't little rays of sunshine.

"Afternoon, ladies," Riley said, making a little bow.

"Hi, Mr. Riley," Bree said looking up at him.

Ashley managed a barely audible, "Hi."

"You two look like the world is crumbling around you.  This is supposed to be a party," Riley advised.

"Don't feel much like a party," Bree said.

"Me either," Ashley agreed.

"I think music always makes everything better," Riley said.  "How be we go play a little piano, Bree?"

"I don't feel much like playing, Mr. Riley," Bree stated with a sigh.

"If I'm feeling down, I often don't want to play, but..."  He paused for effect.  "When I do play, I always feel better."

"I don't know," Bree said shaking her head.

"Come on.  Give it a try."  Riley held out his hand for Bree to take it.  Reluctantly she did, and Riley pulled her to her feet.  "You too," Riley said to Ashley offering her a hand to get up.

The two girls trudged along behind Riley as they make their way into the cottage.

"What do you want to play?" Riley asked.

"I don't really want to play anything," Bree said sulkily.

"So, something sad, then?" Riley said with a chuckle.  Bree just stared at him.  Ashley sat down on the couch near them.  Riley began to play Clair de Lune by Debussey.  The girls listened as Riley played.

When he finished that piece, Bree said, "That was beautiful, Mr. Riley.  You haven't taught me that one yet."

"No time like the present," Riley said before playing it again.

Bree had a great ear for music.  She began to move her fingers over top of the keys following the pattern of Riley's fingers.

"Want to try the first part?" Riley asked her.

"Sure," Bree said positioning herself and her fingers as Riley stood up and let her take control.

Bree played the first few bars and then was lost.

"That was very pretty," Ashley said. 

"That's as much as I remembered," Bree said.

"That was excellent without having the sheet music.  I'll have to get that for you."

"I'd like that," Bree said with a little amile.  Music did make you feel better.

They then played Eine kleine Nachtmusik, their tried and true favorite.  Riley got Bree to play a piece all by herself, and then Riley played Roll Out the Barrel, a happy song for the two girls.

"Feel better?" Riley asked when he was done.

"Yeah," both girls agreed.

"The world is a better place with music."

 

Both girls nodded in agreement.

Fireworks

Chapter 6

 

Ben slightly jumped when Michael walked into the cabin.  Ben didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable in the place he called home for many months while he wrote and tried to get his life in order.  Ben wasn’t very satisfied with all the twists and turns his life had currently taken.  And if he was truly honest with himself, the feelings he was beginning to develop for Armand were downright scaring him.  But he had to eventually confront Michael and there was no time like the present.

“Michael, how are you?”  Ben was trying to be casual but failing miserably.

Michael thought carefully before answering.  “I’m good.  Things are finally coming together,” he said with a small smile.

“Are you planning to stay here tonight?” Ben cautiously asked.  “At the cabin, I mean.”

“No,” Michael said as he shook his head.  “I just came by for my clothes and things.  I don’t think I’ll be back for a while.  I kinda feel bad for making John build it,” Michael said softly as he took a good look around.

“And you wouldn’t mind if I stayed here for the summer?”

“Someone should enjoy it.  I think you should ask Hunter and Nick to stay for a while.  Maybe JR and Jacqueline; there’s plenty of room,” Michael calmly suggested.  He was so calm and so reasonable that Ben was beginning to wonder who this pod person really was.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.  I have the store and the online store to keep me busy.  JR certainly could use a break.  I don’t think she and Jacqueline have ever taken a real vacation.  I gave her a lot to worry about lately.  She deserves the break.”

“Wow, uh, I mean, that’s a great idea.  I’ll ask the girls now, if that's all right with you,” Ben said in awe.

“Sure.  I won’t be long, I don’t have much to pack up.”

“Take your time.  It’ll probably take me hours to find the girls in this mob, the guys too,” Ben said with a smile.

“You look well,” Michael couldn’t help observe.

“So do you.  You look like you’ve found peace.”

“I think I have.  I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“Please don’t apologize.  I probably owe you the apology.  I’ve always prided myself on being honest.  I was feeling miserable and instead of owning up to it, I ignored it.  It was easier to blame you and others.  I should have been honest with you, and myself, a long time ago.”

“I never gave you a chance.  It was easier to blame your book, or Ma, or Brian or our friends for taking sides.  And when you all tried to help, instead of accepting it, I lied until it all blew up in my face.”

“There’s blame enough to go around,” said Ben.

“Agreed,” Michael concurred with a maturity Ben had never seen before or maybe never noticed.

The lack of conversation was beginning to feel awkward so Ben headed for the door.  “I better find JR and Hunter before it gets dark.”

“Good idea.  Maybe you should suggest street lamps to Brian and Justin,” Michael said with a laugh that made Ben smile.   

“Michael, about Armand, nothing physical happened,” Ben assured Michael.

“I’m not accusing you of anything.  He’s very good looking.”  Ben nodded.  “And he’s into art?”

“His brother owns the main gallery in Paris that’s hosting Justin’s work,” Ben explained.  “Armand occasionally helps out.”

“I imagine you both have a lot to talk about,” Michael conceded. 

Ben shrugged his shoulders as he gave a little nod.  “I’m not planning on having sex with him.”

“Nobody plans on having sex,” Michael said then took it back.  “Unless you’re Brian Kinney.”  He and Ben laughed.

“I’m serious, Michael.  We made vows…”

“Yeah, we did, in another country and never here when we could have!  Maybe that was a sign or something,” Michael said then stopped himself before saying something stupid.  “What I’m trying to say without fucking it up is that shit happens.  I’m still learning how to be an adult, I have to fix me before I can try to fix anything else.  I’m not expecting you to wait.”

“I…I’m not sure what to say.  Just know that I’ll always care about you.  We’ve shared so much history that I’m not willing to give up.  But…”

Michael raised his hand to stop Ben from finishing his sentence.  “You’re not sure if you’re still in love with me.  I’ve given you plenty of reason not to be.  Just know that I’ll always care about you too.  You deserve to be happy.”

“We both do, Michael.” 

With that, Ben left the cabin.

Michael stood in the living room for a few minutes.  He took a shuddering breath.  He was confused, feeling sad but also feeling a sense of pride.  Sad because he felt he was losing the man that was his husband, but proud of their conversation.  A few more deep breaths then Michael found the strength to pack up his belongings.  Before saying goodbye to the cabin and the lane Michael had one more task to perform.

 

*****

 

Brian was walking toward the cabin when he noticed his brother also heading in that direction.

“Were you summoned?” John asked Brian.

“Yeah, you too?” Brian asked. 

John nodded.  “I wonder what’s going on,” he asked as they spied JR, Hunter, Debbie, and Carl heading toward them.

“I guess we’ll find out soon,” Brian assumed.

“What’s going on?” Debbie asked Brian with an accusatory tone.  “What have you done?”  Debbie narrowed her eyes at Brian.

“Beats the shit out of me.  I just got a text asking me to come to the cabin,” Brian explained.

“So did I,” JR said as she took her phone out of her pocket and waved it around.

“Me too,” Hunter confirmed.

“We did too,” added Carl.  “It was probably the fastest way of getting us all together,” he logically said.

“Remind me to never invite half of Pennsylvania to the lane ever again,” Brian grumbled.

“Let’s not keep the man waiting,” John stated as he led the way to the front door of the log cabin.  “Michael?” John called out as he knocked then opened the door.

“In here,” Michael replied from the kitchen.  “There’s not much in the refrigerator but there’s water,” he offered.  When no one took him up on his offer of refreshments, Michael led them to the living room to be comfortable.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Debbie asked with concern.

“I’m fine, Ma.”

“Really?  You don’t look fine to me,” Debbie said, about to begin one of her diatribes.

“Let’s give Michael a chance to explain,” Carl interjected before Debbie could take a breath. Michael gave Carl a grateful smile.

“I just wanted to let you all know that I love you and I wanted to thank you for putting up with me…”

“Oh, Sweetheart…”

“Deb,” Carl warned as he put his arm around his spouse.  Debbie was working her way up to crying and wailing.

“You all tried to help and I fought you but I know that you never stopped loving me.  I just wanted you to know that I understand now what you were trying to do and I’m sorry for being an asshole.” 

The room exploded with everyone speaking at once.

Before Michael could go on to explain, one more person came through the door.

“Uncle Michael?” Bree’s voice called out.  Brian’s face darkened but John placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Give him a chance.”

“In here, Briana,” Michael replied. 

Bree quickly looked around, taking a deep breath as she entered the living room.

“Hi, Uncle Michael,” Bree said with a sunny smile.

“Hi.  I’m glad you could make it.  I have something to say to all of you but especially to you, Bree,” Michael began to explain.

John felt Brian’s shoulder tense under his hand; John gave Brian a little squeeze.

Michael stood to greet Bree as she came closer.  He knelt in front the petite young lady.  “Thank you, Miss Briana, for finding a way through all the walls I built around me,” Michael said as he gave Bree a crushing hug.  “I think you saved me.”

“I love you, Uncle Michael,” Bree said in all sincerity.

“I love you too,” Michael murmured into the baby fine strawberry blond hair.  After a few moments, Michael stood and gently handed Bree over to her father.  Bree sat on Brian’s lap and gave his neck a reassuring hug as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Ben and I had a good talk a little while ago.  I’m driving back to the city soon.  I told Ben he should stay on the lane for the summer, and Hunter, I hope you and Nick can find some time to stay here too.  You too JR.  I hope you and Jacqueline will take a break and stay here.  This cabin was built for all of us and I’d like to see it used.

“John, I’m sorry I put you through building hell when I insisted on a log cabin.  I hope you know how much I really love this place and I plan to come back.”

John nodded.

“Oh my poor baby,” Debbie blurted out with tears.  “What’s going to happen to you?”

“Ma, nothing’s going to happen to me.  I’m just going back to Pittsburgh and going back to work on Monday like I always do.”

“But you can stay with us tonight,” Debbie whined. 

Michael shook his head.  “No, it’s better this way.”

“What about Ben?” Carl asked.

“Ben knows how I feel.”

“And how do you feel?” John asked.

“I’ll always love Ben but it’s time for me to learn how to love myself again.”

“Oh, Daddy,” JR cried out as she practically threw herself into her father’s arms.

“It’s okay, Honeybun.  I haven’t felt this good in months.  And I meant what I said, I want you and Jacqueline to spend some time here.”

“We will, Daddy, I promise.”

“Hunter,” Michael reached out to his son.  “Thank you for helping me to find some purpose in my life.  And I promise to keep volunteering at the Center.”

“I know you will,” Hunter confirmed.  “And Nick and I plan to spend several weeks here this summer, I promise.” 

Michael smiled at Hunter and gave Bree a wink.  “I don’t want to keep you from the party and I have a little more packing to do.  I’ll see you two back in the Pitts,” Michael said. 

Feeling dismissed, the family started to leave one by one but not before giving Michael a hug and kiss.  Of course, Debbie cried and made Michael promise to call often and to eat well.  Michael promised as his eyes pleaded with Carl to come and take his mother before she crushed the living daylights out of him.

“Come on, Debbie, I think we have more hungry mouths to feed,” Carl told his wife.

“Okay, but you promise to take care of yourself,” Debbie said before she was ushered through the door.

“I promise!” Michael called out.

John shook Michael’s hand as he followed JR, Hunter and Bree out the door.

“Brian?”

“Yeah, Mikey.”

“Will you make sure Ben’s okay while he’s on the lane?”

“He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.  We’ll make sure he eats more than tofu burgers and bean sprouts,” Brian said with disgust making Michael laugh.  “There’s my Mikey,” Brian said as he wrapped his arm around Michael’s neck.  “It felt like we were having a wake.”

“And now?”

“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do, Mikey.  You’ll be all right.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Brian leaned down to give his old friend a chaste kiss before he left.  “I love you, Mikey.  Always have and always will.”

“I love you too, Brian,” Michael said before Brian closed the door.

Michael gathered up his stuff then took one last look around.  By the time he started up his car Michael realized it was starting to get dark.  It was time to go home.

 

*****

 

“You okay, little brother?” John asked Brian.

“Yeah, it’s all good.  Why’d you ask?”

“Just checking.”  All of a sudden Brian smirked.  “What’s with the face?”

“I just realized another Taylor busted down a few walls,” Brian said with a touch of pride.

“Yeah, but this time the walls belonged to a Novotny not a Kinney,” John observed.  “No matter, another Taylor tradition in the making.”

“Speaking about traditions. Is it almost time for the main event?”

“Soon, little brother, very soon,” John assured Brian as the brothers walked back into the fray.

 

*****

 

"Uncle Ben," Bree called as she saw her hunky uncle walk into the backyard of the conjoined cottages.

"Hi, Bree," Ben said as he continued to survey the throngs of people  moving and talking and laughing around the yard.

Bree was sitting on the swing in the big tree.  Ashley had joined her mother and was probably discussing her punishment and why she had drunk wine in the first place.  Bree felt out of place in the big group.  Her recent actions had made her feel like a bit of an outcast.  At least it had been nice to find out how much her Uncle Michael appreciated what she had done for him.

"Are you looking for someone?" Bree asked Ben.

"Yes, Armand, but I don't see him anywhere.  Have you seen him?"

Bree shook her head.  "You could talk to me while you wait for him," Bree suggested.  "Everybody comes through here eventually."

Ben chuckled.  "Yeah, you're probably right."  Ben walked closer to the swing.  "Want a push?" he asked indicating the swing.

"No thanks.  I don't feel like flying today."

"Is something wrong?"

Bree nodded.  "I got into trouble."

"Trouble!  Not our princess," Ben scoffed.

Bree nodded her head to show that she meant what she had said.  "Ashley and I drank some wine and got sick.  My daddies were really mad."

Ben's eyes had got quite big.  Everyone thought of Bree as just about perfect.  This didn't sound like the girl they all knew.  "Why?" was all he said.

"Why were they mad?"

"No, why did you start drinking?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time.  It was kind of exciting," Bree admitted.

"Forbidden fruit," Ben said.  "Things that are forbidden are often very enticing," he explained.

"Yeah, I guess they are."

"Oh, there's Armand," Ben said as he saw the Frenchman come around the corner of the cottages with John.

"Is he forbidden fruit?" Bree asked.

"What?" Ben asked feeling his face redden.  "Why did you ask such a thing?"

"Because you've been spending a lot of time with Mr. Armand.  Uncle Michael's going back to Pittsburgh.  Did you know that?"

"Yes, I knew."

"Okay then," Bree said enigmatically.

Ben frowned and stared at the precocious young lady on the swing.  "I should go," Ben said.

"Sure," Bree replied as Ben headed across the lawn towards Armand.  Bree wondered if Uncle Ben and Armand were going to get together permanently.  She hoped that didn't happen. She wished that her Uncle Ben and Uncle Michael might be able to get back together, but it wasn't looking good. 

Bree gave a push with her feet and started to rise into the air.  The wind she created felt cool on her face.  Maybe that would help her forget what a bad day she was having.

 

*****

 

John had taken Armand across the yard to Gui who sat by himself under the edge of a tree.  Gui did not look happy and had not looked happy since he arrived with Ted and Allen.  John was hoping a fellow Frenchman might cheer him up a little.

"Gui," John said, "this is Armand.  I don't believe you two have met."

"Armand?" Gui asked perking up a bit at the French name.  "Francais?" he asked.

"Oui, Paris, et toi?" Armand asked.

"Paris aussi."

As the two men started talking about Paris in French, John took his leave quietly.  He needed to get the fireworks extravaganza underway.

"Armand?" Ben said as he approached.

"Ah, there you are," Armand responded.  "John took me along the lane and told me some interesting details about all the buildings.  Fascinating!  Oh, and this is a fellow Parisien, Gui."

"Gui and I have met," Ben said.  "He's been living in the same building I stayed in while I was teaching."

"Oh, I didn't know," Armand said.

"No reason you should," Ben replied.  "Armand, could I talk to you for a minute ... in private?"

"But of course," Armand said standing and heading towards the greenhouse with Ben.

Gui watched them walk away.  "Merde," he muttered to himself.  The most interesting person he had met all day had just been snatched from him.  He wondered what the hell he was doing in this place with these people.  There were nothing but bad memories here of people who had betrayed him or bested him.  He should never have come.  But he was unable to escape until Ted was ready to leave.  Gui leaned back in his chair.  Maybe if he just closed his eyes they would all disappear.  It was worth a try.  He shut his eyes ... tight.

 

*****

 

Debbie walked across the lawn and sat down in the empty chair next to Danny.  "How the hell are ya?" she demanded.

"Still here," was Danny's terse reply.

"Where's Riley?"

"Off talking to people."

"Shouldn't he be here with you?" Debbie asked.

"We're not joined at the hip.  He's spent enough time coddling me today."

"Coddling?"

"Yeah, my fucking arthritis is flaring up.  I'm not good company, so please feel free to leave."

"Sorry about the arthritis.  I understand.  I get these twinges every once in a while," Debbie said sympathetically.

"What I'm experiencing is way beyond twinges," Danny corrected her.

"That's too bad," Debbie commiserated.

Danny shook his head.  Debbie never could take a hint.  He wished she would just go away.  "Was there something you wanted to say to me?" he finally asked.

"I thought you should know that our son is finally growing up."

"Growing up?  Hmpff!  Took him long enough.  How do you know that's happening?"

"Just trust me, he is," Debbie stated.

"Where is he anyway?  I wanted to speak to him."

"He's on his way back to Pittsburgh by this time."

"He left?"

"Yeah, he's dealing with some stuff."

"Could you be any vaguer?" Danny asked sarcastically.

"Could you be any ruder?"  Debbie gave him the evil eye.

"No, I don't think I can," Danny retorted.

Debbie glared at him for a moment before getting up and leaving the anti-social man.

 

"Shit," Danny muttered.  He hadn't meant to be so rude, but he simply couldn't muster the strength to play nice.

Fireworks

Chapter 7 - Epilogue

Epilogue

It was dark when Michael approached Pittsburgh and although he was a little sad that he left all his friends and family on the lane, Michael was experiencing a sense of peace.  A peace that he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

“Maybe I’m finally on the right track,” Michael said to himself as he got closer to the city limits.  “I’m also hungry.”  He realized that it was several hours since his last burger.  Michael had left the lane before the next massive round of grilled delights was served.  What Michael needed to do was some grocery shopping but his stomach had other plans.  The flashing neon lights of the Liberty Diner called to Michael and his stomach.

“Hi Jake!” Michael called out to the lone waiter.  It was a slow night, most of the regulars were celebrating the fourth in their own backyards or down by the pier waiting for the fireworks display to begin over the Allegheny River.  So Jake and the cook were holding down the fort.

“What’ll you have, Michael?”

“What’s the special tonight?”

“We’ve got the red, white, and blue, pink plate special,” Jake crowed.

“Which is…?”

“Roast beef, extra rare, with good old fashioned mashed potatoes and for dessert, blueberry pie!” Jake exclaimed with pride.  Michael laughed but the special sounded good to his stomach.  “The special it is.”

“You want a Pepsi with that?”

“Sure,” Michael confirmed as they heard the first few “booms” and loud “pops” signaling that the fireworks had begun.

 

*****   

 

“Isn’t it about time, big bro?” Brian asked John as he grabbed John’s wrist to verify the time.

“Time for what, little bro?”

“Uh, you know, boom,” Brian said as he made an exploding gesture with hands.

“Not sure to what you’re referring,” John teased.  Brian glared, big time.  John laughed.  “Easy there, bro, just yanking your chain and yes, it’s just about time.  However, I’ve consulted with the Great Mother and we’ve decided to do things a little differently this year.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”  Brian had a little explosion of his own in response to John’s cryptic announcement.

“Brian, we had a nasty winter and a very wet spring but it’s been hot and dry since June.  It would be irresponsible of us, not to mention dangerous, to explode fireworks over the meadow and trees.  Just one spark…”

“I get it,” Brian interrupted John then heavily sighed.  “She was looking forward to it,” Brian added softly. 

John smiled.  Brian’s heart held a deep love that only a few were privy to.  “Don’t worry.  Your son, the computer geek, and I have worked out something that I think will fulfill your promise to that sweet young woman,” John assured Brian as he wrapped his arm around Brian’s shoulders and gave a little squeeze.

“Come on, I’ll show you a little of what the guys have whipped up.  We’ll be needing your organizational skills to get everyone assembled correctly.  Okay?” John asked.

“Okay,” Brian conceded as they headed toward the sun porch.

 

*****

 

“Jake, I got to hand it you, tonight’s special was great!” Michael said as he punctuated his statement with a belch.  “Excuse me.”

“Music to my ears,” Jake said with a laugh.  “Your sandwiches are ready when you are.”

“Thanks,” Michael said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and took out his wallet.  Michael had ordered a few sandwiches to tide him over until he had time to shop.  Michael paid his bill and left a nice tip.

“Night, guys.”  Michael waved as he left the diner, sack of sandwiches in hand then headed for his car.  A noise in the alley by the side of the diner startled him.

“Who’s there?” Michael called out, trying to sound menacing.  The sound of cans and other garbage clanging made Michael jump.  “You better come out or I’ll call the cops!”

“No, please wait,” a small voice replied.  Just then the sky turned all sorts of colors as rockets exploded over the river.

“What?  I can’t hear you.  Come on out here,” Michael demanded.

“I’m sorry,” the voice replied.  Michael thought he heard crying as a young boy, skinny, dirty, barely in his teens came out from the shadows.

“What are you doing in the alley?”

“I was looking for…”

“You were looking for something to eat,” Michael said gently.  The boy nodded and the tears flowed in earnest.  “Are you hurt?”  The boy shook his head.  “Tired and hungry?”  The boy nodded.  “What’s your name?”

“James.”

“I’m Michael.”  Michael handed James the bag of sandwiches.  “Go ahead, take it.”  James slowly reached out his hand then snatched the bag out of Michael’s. 

“James, have you heard of the Hunter-man?” Michael asked while James nodded as he carefully opened the bag.  “It’s okay.  I just bought them,” Michael said as he pointed to the diner.  “Why don’t you eat one now while we walk over to where Hunter hangs out when he’s in the Pitts.” 

“You know the Hunter-man,” James asked with awe.  He unwrapped one sandwich then took a big bite.

“I know him very well.  He’s a great guy and his place is open to any kid who needs somewhere safe to sleep, a meal and a hot shower.  May I take you there?” Michael carefully asked.

James looked at Michael with suspicious eyes.  “How do I know you’re not taking me to someplace bad or gonna try to hurt me?”

“I won’t come any closer than I am now.”  James was standing just out of reach.  “I’ll lead you to Hunter’s place.  I happen to know there’s a nice lady there tonight.  Her name is Karen.  Hunter’s out of town for a few days but he should be back soon.”

“You really know the Hunter-man?”  James slowly followed Michael toward the alley where the drop in center was located.

“Yes I do and as soon as we get inside and I know you’re safe, I’ll show you a picture of Hunter when he was just a little older than you.”

“Really?”

“Really.  Don’t worry, we’re close.  I promise, no one will make you do anything you don’t want to do.  And if you want to leave in the morning, no one will stop you.  But if you want to stay and get help to figure out your next move, Hunter and Karen will help you all the way.”

“Are there really nice people in there?” James asked as he looked at the door to the center.  He was frightened, very tired and didn’t know who to trust.

“Yes, they are very nice in there.  That’s what the center is all about.  I promise, no one will judge you or hurt you.  And you never know, you just might make a friend or two,” Michael said as he opened the door to lead James to a better life.

 

*****

 

“Listen up, people,” Brian shouted, standing on top of a picnic table.  “John informs me that we risk the wrath of Smokey the Bear if we set off fireworks during this dry spell.  So for those of you who’d like to keep your bears happy,” Brian drawled, “let’s indulge my brother.”  The crowd laughed as Brian exchanged places with John.

“What’s going on,” Justin asked Brian as he sidled up close.

“Not a fucking clue, Sunshine,” Brian said as he gave Justin a sweet peck to his temple. 

“As Brian has so eloquently put it, it’s really too dry for a conventional fireworks show,” John began to explain.

“Since when does this family do anything conventional?” Debbie called out then cackled at her own cleverness.

“Never!” several members of their unconventional family shouted out.  The family applauded.

“You’re right, Deb,” John agreed.  “So with a little help from our friends and family, may I direct your attention toward the meadow.”

All eyes turned toward the direction of the meadow.  Unbeknownst to the family a very large screen was set up along with state of the art sound equipment.  With the touch of Gus’ nimble fingers on his tablet, the first explosion of sight, sound, and color was triggered.

 

*****

 

It was about two in the morning when the last of the guests left the lane.  The hefty wrought iron gate which helped to conceal their lane from the outside world, swung closed for the last time.  The lane inhabitants, family and special guests were all tucked up in their rooms throughout the lane.  Brian took one last look around his garden while enjoying his final beer of the night.

“Hey,” Justin quietly called out from the sun porch door.  “Have you taken over Beau’s job?”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked with a smirk.

“You look like you’re on patrol.”

“Maybe I am.  We’ve had a million people on the lane today, you never know if there’s a straggler or two hidden in the bushes.”  Brian peeked under an azalea bush for effect making Justin giggle.

“Come here, Sunshine,” Brian murmured as the lovers met just outside the door.  Brian gently placed two fingers under Justin’s chin to raise his face.  Loving hazel eyes met shining blue.

“I love you, Brian.”

“Love you, Sunshine.”

They kissed then went to bed.

 

*****

 

“Aaa-mazing,” Brian softly murmured when he was able to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” Justin whispered, wearing a smug smile.

“You’ve still got it.”

“We’ve still got it,” Justin corrected as his hand searched and found Brian’s.

“Do you think everyone had a good time today?” Brian asked.

“I know they did,” Justin confirmed.

“You don’t think Candy was disappointed.”

 Justin climbed on top of Brian, resting his chin on Brian’s chest.  “Brian, she was overjoyed.  She just didn’t want to gush all over you.”  Brian made a face.  “Idiot,” Justin teased then kissed his suddenly vulnerable spouse.

“Before she and Richie went to Emmett’s, Candy told me that over the years she’s forgotten the sound of her mother’s voice.  And that watching the fireworks, all the colors, and the loud noise, helps her to remember the good times she had with her mom,” Justin gently explained.

Brian nodded.  The pain of losing old Joanie hadn’t completely healed although it was so much better.

“She loved them, Bri, and I love you so much, you big Smoosh.”

“Capital S?”

“Capital S.”

The lovers kissed and held each other tight; round two was about to begin.

“Bri, do you think Michael will be okay?” 

Brian looked down his nose at Justin.  “You want to talk about Mikey now?”  They were indulging in playful frottage prior to the main event.

“Not really but being this close to you just made me think…he’s alone.  And Ben’s…”

“With his French fry houseguest,” Brian snorted.

There was a moment of silent contemplation before furiously making love then coming together in an explosive frenzy.

 “I’m yours forever,” Justin declared when he was able, collapsing in Brian’s arms.

“Faithfully,” vowed Brian as he held on.

 

-tbc-