Brian couldn’t believe he was being hauled into the police station. Well, not hauled actually, but no one had yet said why one of Pittsburgh’s finest was waiting for him when he got home. He definitely had other plans as his mind wandered to the hot guy he had picked up at Woody’s. He raised the elevator gate as an officer approached him. “Brian Kinney?”

Now here he was in a small interrogation room, hearing for the first time that his nephew had accused him of molesting him. Brian was, at first, uncomprehending, then quickly became furious at the accusation. Luckily, it was just John’s word against his at that time and they let him go.

While he was waiting for Michael to pick him up, a voice called out his name. “Kinney!”

“What? Didn’t you ask me enough questions during the grilling?”

“Cut it out, Brian. For your information, this is no laughing matter. You can be in a lot of trouble.” Carl Horvath held the folder with Brian’s paperwork in it. He was very interested in some of the information it contained. He decided not to get into all of that right now. Brian had other, more pressing matters to handle.

Brian stared at the detective. “Look, Carl. I know how much trouble I can be in. That little brat of my sister’s is a liar and I intend to prove it. He’s just trying to get back at me because I caught him going through my wallet. He stole my leather bracelet.” Brian stopped talking as he looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Before he could say anything else, Michael arrived.

“Brian, what’s going on? Why are you here in the police station?” He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, noticing how tired he looked. “Carl, what’s going on here?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of Brian.

Brian answered before Horvath could. “My nephew, you know, the one you gave all those comic books to?” Michael nodded. “Well, it seems he told my sister who told the cops, that I molested his sorry ass.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know it and you know it, Mikey.”

“Carl, how could you believe such a thing?”

“Michael, an accusation was made. We have to look into it. That reminds me, I’m going to have to talk to Debbie in the morning. Don’t say anything to her, or anyone else about this. Do you hear me?”

Michael nodded then turned to his friend. “Come on, Brian. Let’s go.”

Horvath gave Brian another word of warning. “Brian, Go home. Get some rest. Don’t take matters into your own hands, okay?”

Brian stared at him, wondering about the softening attitude. “I won’t promise anything. This is my life that’s being ruined.”

“Listen, for your own good. Don’t do anything rash.”

Brian dropped Mikey off at his apartment and drove on alone. He promised Michael and Carl that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt his case, but he had to confront his nephew. Instead of heading to the loft, he drove to another house several miles away. Slamming the car door shut, he all but ran up the steps. His first inclination was to bang as loudly on the door as he possibly could, but at the last minute opted to ring the buzzer. Claire opened the door and quickly tried to slam it shut when she saw who was there. Brian pushed the door open and stormed in, demanding to see John and yelling at his sister. It was then that he saw Joanie in the parlor. His mother, the person who was supposed to love him so matter what. Yeah, right.

“You have nerve showing your face here,” his mother said, the hate evident in her voice.

“You believe him? How could you think I’d do that. No don’t answer, I know. I’m an abomination and I’m going to burn in hell. Right, Mother?”

Joanie stared at him with steely eyes. “I think you’d better leave now before I call the cops.”

Brian pulled away from the stare. He had seen it so many times before, even from his childhood, and it sent chills through his body. Not that he’d let her see it, of course. “Well, fuck you, Mother. I don’t need you. I don’t anyone.” He turned his back on the older woman and glared at his sister as he headed for the front door.

“I don’t need anyone,” he murmured to himself as he headed back to the ‘vette. He allowed himself to believe that as he drove to the loft.

“I don’t need anyone,” his mind kept repeating as if it had to convince himself of the fact.

Once back in the loft, he didn’t even bother undressing. He threw himself onto the bed, fully clothed and stared up at the ceiling, one arm thrown over his head and the other resting on his abdomen. Visions of blond hair and blue eyes swam before him. “I don’t need anyone.”

He closed his eyes tightly and covered them with his arm, trying to get rid of his memory of Justin. It was hopeless. He knew Justin could somehow make it all better for him. But Justin wasn’t here anymore. He tried not to think of his childhood, but they were all mixed up in his mind. Memories of Jack towering over him, voice loud. The big hands as they roughly pulled him from where he was sitting. Big hands that left red marks on his arms, legs, stomach, and back. Rarely his face, that might have caused too many questions that needed answering. No, Jack knew to leave the face alone.

And the words that cut through him. “You should never have been born. You should be the one dying. You’re no son of mine.” Words that hurt until he learned not to hear them.

He fell into a fitful sleep, where fists kept clenching and unclenching as unwanted dreams invaded the night.

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1982

Brian was huddled in his room, leaning into the corner by his desk, knees to chest and his head resting on his young, knobby knees. He tried putting his arms around his folded legs, but the pain in his left shoulder hurt too bad. Jack knew not to mess with his right hand or arm. That would bring too many questions from school when Brian couldn’t hold a pencil. Tears streamed down his face, but he never made a sound. He knew that if he did, his father would smack him around some more for “being such a sissy”. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this round of pain. Probably nothing, really, other than to just BE. That must be it, because he was only ten and how bad can a ten-year-old mess up? A baseball accidently hitting the side of the brick house, TV too loud, getting an A- on the math test instead of an A+? And sometimes that’s all it took.

When the tears finally stopped, he got up from the bed and pulled his history book from his backpack. He started reading chapter seven, although he knew the material and would ace the test the next morning. He ignored the growling sounds from his tummy. He missed supper, again and would have to wait til breakfast to eat anything.

With nothing better to do than sleep, Brian undressed and crawled under the blanket and rested his head on the pillow. He had a hard time getting comfortable due to the pain in his shoulder. So what else was new? He was almost asleep when he heard the bedroom door opening.

“Brian? Are you awake?”

It was Claire. Brian let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and quietly answered, “Yes.” He started to sit up, but the sharp pain stopped his movement. “Ahh,” he said, his breath catching.

Before Claire turned on the light, she put a folded towel at the base of the closed door so no light would spill through to the hallway. “Here,” she said, holding out her hand.

Brian took the apple and 2 cookies from her. “Thanks, Claire. I was kinda hungry.” He smiled shyly at his sister. Claire then put her hand in the pocket of her robe and pulled out two Tylenol and a bottle of orange juice.

“Sorry, but it’s all I could get.” Brian nodded and swallowed the pills with some juice before he started on the apple. “I better get back. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Claire was almost to the door before Brian spoke again. “Why does he hate me so much?”

Claire wished she had an answer for her brother. She really didn’t understand, either. At ten, Brian was a beautiful child, hinting at the man he would become. He was the brain, not her. He was the budding soccer player and could play football if he wanted to. She was the plain one, struggling through school, unable to do the simplest dance steps. No, she didn’t know. To her, he was the normal bratty brother whom she didn’t even want around her or her girlfriends. Until Jack ...did what Jack did. She wasn’t sure if it was relief that it was Brian who got the back of his hand or the guilt that she felt that made her risk cookies and juice for her brother.

She just shook her head apologetically and shrugged. Brian turned off the light as his sister removed the towel from the base of the door and quietly left. Brian sat in the dark eating one of the cookies, dropping crumbs onto the bed.

“You have a fine, healthy son, Mr. Kinney,” the doctor told Jack that afternoon. He was allowed to view his son through the glass around the nursery. He showed no emotion as he watched the baby crying in his bassinet. “Great,” thought Jack. “A squalling baby to keep me up all night.”  He left the hospital and headed home, picking up a bottle of whiskey at the liquor store.

Jack sat on the sofa, a worn piece of paper in one hand and the bottle of cheap whiskey in the other. He never believed Joanie’s story of when she became pregnant. It was too easy. He knew she had someone on the side, hell, so did he, but he couldn’t believe she let herself get knocked up. He let on that he believed this bastard was his, but he knew, deep down he knew, and would never let his wife or her son live it down. Never. She was just a little too anxious the night he got back from Scranton. She never initiated sex, even after he was gone a month. It just wasn’t her. He thought that maybe she’d changed, but a month later, when she told him she was going to have another baby, he knew. He told her to get an abortion, but she refused. Because of the church. It was always the church. Well, let the church raise him because Jack Kinney sure wasn’t.

He looked at the paper in his hand again. ‘Carl’, in his wife’s handwriting, and a phone number. He didn’t tell Joanie that he found the paper. Of course, then he would have to admit he was actually looking for it, or something like it, since it was hidden in the pocket of an old coat in the back of the closet. He called the number and wasn’t particularly surprised when a man’s voice answered. Jack didn’t say anything but listened as the voice on the other end said hello several times then hung up. Laughter spilled from the drunken mouth. Not happy laughter, but cynical, hateful laughter. Sometimes going through your wife’s things when she’s not around can be very informative.

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Justin was trying his best to keep a smile on his face as Debbie proudly showed him the ‘treasures’ she was giving him. He didn’t want to tell her the apartment was too small for ceramic cats. One live cat was plenty. Vic sure didn’t seem too sad to be getting rid of it. When the doorbell rang, Vic went to answer it. Carl stepped into the living room. Debbie’s face lit up when she saw the detective.

“Hey, Sweet Meat,” Debbie said, with a bright smile on her face. Vic and Justin looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “What brings you here this time of day?”

“I have some bad news about one of your lost boys.”

“Who?” Debbie asks, the concern evident in her voice. She loved all of her boys and hated to see any of them in trouble.

“Kinney.”

“Brian’s in trouble?” Justin couldn’t keep the fear out of the question.

“It seems,” Carl said, “That his nephew has accused him of molesting him.”

“That’s bullshit. Brian is a lot of things, but a child molester isn’t one of them. I’ve known him for half his life.” Debbie was angry and not afraid to show it.

Justin knew it was a lie. “Brian would never do anything like that.”

“I just wanted you to know. He was questioned last night but was released. Right now it’s just his nephew’s word against his, but, like I told Michael, we have to investigate these charges, no matter how absurd they may seem.”

Late that afternoon Justin and Debbie met Carl outside of Claire’s house.  Justin had explained to Carl over the phone about finding John at the arcade and seeing Brian’s cowry shell bracelet on his wrist. Carl wanted to talk to the boy again. Claire opened the door and was surprised to see the trio on her porch. She invited them in, hoping the detective had some news about her brother. She had no idea why Mrs. Novotny was there, though. She knew how much Brian liked her ever since he palled up with her whiney little son, Michael. What made Brian pick Michael as a friend, she never figured out. At least it got him out of the house a lot of the time. When he was home, there were always fights with their father. Why Brian antagonized him all the time, she had no clue, but at least Jack never bothered her. He was too busy being hateful to his only son.

As Carl walked into the house, he looked around to assess the living conditions of the young boy. The house was neat and clean, but that didn’t always mean a whole lot. His eyes rested on a photo in a silver frame on a side table. It was Joan, older and harder than he remembered, but Joan just the same. His years as a police officer taught him not to react one way or the other to surprises and he was glad he had learned well.

“John’s not here. He hasn’t come home from practice yet. What did you want to see me about? Is Brian in jail, yet? He had the nerve to come here last night. Said some awful things to me and my mother.”

“Claire,” Justin said, “I saw John at the arcade a couple of hours ago. He has Brian’s bracelet. The one he said John stole. I saw it myself.”

“You’re Brian’s “friend”, aren’t you?” She almost spat out the words. “Mother told me you were just a kid. I thought she was exaggerating, but you are just a kid. I guess my brother likes them young.”

“Just one minute,” Deb said, shaking a red painted finger in the younger woman’s face. “I’ve know Brian since he was fourteen. I love him like a son and he would never do anything to hurt John or any child.

Claire was about to say something when they heard the back door open and close, then the refrigerator. Seconds later John walked calmly into the living room, drinking a soda. “Mom,” he said, surprised at seeing her standing there looking very angry. That’s when he saw the detective, the woman from the diner and his uncle’s friend who saw him at the arcade. He knew he was busted, but steeled himself not to give it away. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“John,” Claire said angrily to her son. “Where’s that bracelet you had on this morning?”

“I lost it at school.”

“You had it this afternoon at the arcade. I saw it.”

“Let me have it, Son,” Carl said, as he held out his hand.

Claire was now believing the worst, that her son did make up the accusation about Brian. And she had believed him. “Give it to him, John!” When John hesitated, she repeated her order. John slowly dug the shell bracelet from his pocket and handed it to the detective.

“I didn’t steal it. I bought it from that store in the mall across from the pet shop,” he tried to explain, knowing it was useless.

Justin pointed to the shells. “Brian got it in Mexico. His initials are on one of the shells.” Carl looked then nodded his head.

“John, did your uncle do to you what you said?”

The boy didn’t answer but stared defiantly at the detective. “He’s just a fag. He deserved it.”

“Shame on you,” Debbie said, glaring at the child. John ran out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. “And shame on you.” Those words were directed at Claire.

After Carl told Claire he wanted to see her and John at the police station first thing in the morning, the three of them left. Just before Justin got into Debbie’s car, Carl handed him the bracelet. “Would you like to give this back to K...Brian?

Justin smiled. “Yeah. Thanks.” He took the bracelet and held it tight in his hand. As he got into the car, he saw Debbie give Carl a hug and kiss and just shook his head. Actually, he was glad Debbie was so happy, but images of them “doing it” sent chills up his spine. He fingered the hard shells and soft leather in his hand and thought, instead, of Brian and how much he missed him.

Justin could tell how angry Debbie was when she got into the car and nothing he said was going to make a bit of difference. Debbie was very protective of all her boys. She would stand by you and defend you to the death. What Brian’s so-called “real” family had done to him was inexcusable in her eyes. Family are supposed be a gift, not something to throw away. Well, Brian was part of her family and she would never throw him away.

“Deb, would you drop me off at the loft? I want to give this back to Brian and let him know what happened.”

“Sure, Sunshine. I can come up with you, you know. Or wait out front for you.”

“I can take the bus back to Ethan’s apartment. You don’t have to wait for me. Go on home. I’m sure Vic is anxious to hear what happened.”

“You’re right about that. Okay.” She leaned over and gave Justin a kiss on his cheek, leaving the expected lipstick imprint. She rubbed it with her thumb to erase the evidence.

“Thanks for coming with me. I know you want to see Brian right now, but I want to do this by myself.”

“Sure, baby, no problem. I’m just glad John finally told the truth.” She watched as Justin got out and waited until he had keyed in the door code and disappeared inside the brick building. As she watched, she knew that Justin still cared for Brian. She would even bet that he had never stopped loving him. And Brian, she had figured out long ago loved Justin. She had just wished he was able to accept that love. To realize he was worthy of it. She knew they belonged together and hoped with all her heart that they would finally know it too.

As he walked up the familiar stairs, he was surprised at all the memories that came flooding back. He thought about the very first time he climbed these steps, following the tall, gorgeous brunet to the fourth floor. He didn’t even know his name yet. Brian never offered it and he was too nervous to think about asking. He shook his head at the fact that it had been almost three years since that first time. Three years full of memories. Some bad, like the time he and Daphne found him and the zucchini man naked on the sofa. But most were good. Very good, in fact.

He stood outside the heavy metal door, suddenly thinking that he should have called before coming over. There was no telling what was going on in the loft. He raised a hand and knocked on the heavy door. A few seconds later, the door slid back and Brian was standing there in front of him. He was dressed in a white wife-beater and worn jeans. Definitely one of Justin’s favorite looks.

“Hey,” Brian said when he saw who was there. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he pulled the bracelet from his pocket. “I just wanted to return this. Your nephew admitted he was lying. Carl knows. They’re going to drop the charges against you. Claire and John have to go down to the police station to see Carl in the morning.”

“Thanks.” A short silence befell the two men before Brian spoke again. “And what did you have to do with this?” Brian nodded toward the leather and shell bracelet held in Justin’s hand.

Justin shrugged. Brian reached for the bracelet. “Here, let me,” He took Brian’s arm and tied the leather band around his wrist. He was so intent on his actions that he didn’t see the way Brian was looking at him. If he had, he would have seen the longing in Brian’s eyes. As Justin finished, Brian’s face became impassive again and he slowly let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “There,” Justin said when he was done.

Brian looked down at his wrist. “Thanks.” Justin nodded. “Would you like to come in? I was just going to order some Chinese. Or do you have to get back home to the boyfriend?”

“No. He’s at the studio, practicing for the Heifetz competition.” He saw Brian’s smirk, letting him know he didn’t really care what the fiddler was up to. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you here.” He walked into the loft without turning to see if Justin was following him. He went into the kitchen to get them each a beer. Justin stood at in the entry by the kitchen, almost expecting Brian to pour a bottle of Evian over his head. “Shut the door.”.

Justin did as he was told. Unlike the first time, now he did it without any hesitation. Brian handed him a beer, walked over to the sofa and sat down on one end, his beautiful bare feet resting on the cushion. Justin sat at the other end facing Brian, knees bent, careful not to let their feet touch. Neither spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

After several chugs of beer, Justin looked at Brian and smiled.

“What?” Brian asked. How he missed that smile.

“Does this seem a little strange to you? Us sitting here like this?

“No, Sunshine. It’s where you belong. Where you’ve belonged all along.”

Justin wasn’t sure what to make of Brian’s words. “Brian,” he started, but wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. God, how he missed being here with Brian. All the quiet times they spent in the loft together after the bashing, when just being together was enough. Before the rules and the baths and...Ethan.

Brian moved to the edge of the sofa by Justin’s legs. They stared at each other for a minute, searching for the right words or right actions. Justin knew he had to make the first move. He reached up and caressed Brian’s face with his hand. Brian turned and kissed the open palm. “Justin,” he whispered, eyes closed, inhaling the Justin scent he had been missing for so long. He felt Justin move then pull his hand away. Brian kept his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see if Justin was leaving. Maybe he overstepped the bounds, maybe he read Justin wrong. He then felt soft lips on his, a tender kiss. A kiss he remembered from so long ago. He knew it was okay to open his eyes. Justin was still there. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

Justin nodded, taking hold of Brian’s hand. “I’m surer of this than of anything else in my life right now.” Brian stood, still holding Justin’s hand and led him into the bedroom. The tender kisses became more urgent as shirts and pants were shed. Justin quickly toed off his shoes and socks and fell on the bed with his lover. Yes, Brian was his only lover. The others, including Ethan, were nothing compared to this, to being held and kissed by Brian Kinney.

Brian stared into blue eyes. Justin never flinched, holding Brian’s stare. “Justin,” Brian moaned and leaned down to kiss soft lips. Slow, tender kisses soon became urgent as tongues mingled among the hot breath. When it became necessary to breathe, they parted. Brian savored the taste he’d missed for so long. Tongue, teeth, and lips left wet trails down Justin’s pale body til Brian’s mouth found what it craved. He held the base of Justin’s cock with one hand as he did wondrous things with his tongue. The swirling and licking was making Justin moan and cry out. His voice came in short gasps. Brian knew Justin wasn’t going to last much longer and he wanted to be inside him when he came. He reached for the lube and a condom and placed himself between Justin’s legs. Justin raised his legs over Brian’s shoulders and lifted his hips. Brian finished placing lube on his own hard cock and reached to prepare Justin’s hole.

He was surprised when Justin grabbed his hand. “Take it easy,” he said. “It’s been a while.” Brian looked at him for a second and understood what Justin was saying. He hadn’t bottomed for the fiddler. Brian was still the only one he had. He nodded and smiled at the revelation and placed his hard cock at the entrance. One push and the velvety head penetrated the opening. He stopped, letting Justin get used to the size. “More, please. More now,” Justin said as he moved closer to Brian, forcing the large cock further into his ass. They fell into a familiar rhythm. When Brian knew Justin was close, he wrapped his hand around Justin’s cock and duplicated the rhythm with his hand. It didn’t take long for them both to come. Brian collapsed onto his arms to keep from hurting Justin. Their lips met in a gentle kiss. When Brian pulled back, Justin was smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile too. The smiles turned into soft laughter. Justin was home where he belonged.

Afterward, Brian and Justin laid on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. Brian held Justin tightly to his body, afraid he would fade away if he was let loose. Justin was happy with his head on Brian’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It had been too long for both of them and they needed the close contact. As Justin drifted off to sleep, violin music played in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut to block it out. How, he wondered, was he going to tell Ethan. He liked Ethan, but he never loved him, not like this, not ever. The sad thing was, he was sure Ethan knew. There was always a desperation when they were together - like Ethan was trying too hard to be what he knew Justin wanted. But he also knew he would never succeed. The steady beating of Brian’s heart soon lulled Justin to sleep.

Brian let his fingers play softly through the blond hair. He was trying to grasp everything that happened to him in the past few days. But most of all, what Justin’s being here meant. Would he stay this time or was this just a one-time thing. He closed his eyes and shook his head. No, it couldn’t have been. There was too much love in the blue eyes that stared up at him. No, this was real. He was sure of it. He felt Justin’s breathing slow and his muscles relax. This is how it should have been these past months. “I love you, Justin,” Brian said softly, once he was sure Justin was asleep... Maybe soon he would be able to say those words to Justin’s face. He would do it right this time, he promised himself, because this is what he wanted all along.

Brian fell asleep with his arms around Justin. No matter how much they moved around in the dark, they always managed to find their way back to each other.

Across town, Carl Horvath had just gotten home from work. His pistol was in the locked box in the hall closet. His badge and watch sat on his dresser in the bedroom. His gray suit was in a bag, ready for the cleaners. He went about his routine just like any other day. But this wasn’t any other day. No indeed, it wasn’t. On this day he found out he had a son. Well, he probably had a son. He sat down on his brown leather couch. An open can of cold Old Pitt beer had been placed carefully on a coaster on the coffee table. Next to it was an unopened box that had been hidden for 30 years. At first, he would take it out every day or so and look at the objects, longing for what had been. Then maybe once a month, then a few times a year if he happened to come across it putting clothes away. Memories die whether you wanted them to or not. Whether you ever thought they would or not.

When he married, the box moved from the dresser drawer to the back of the closet, finally forgotten for many years. This was the first time it had been removed in, what, 25 years? Probably. But the events of the last two days brought all the memories back.

Carl sat on the edge of the sofa, arms resting on his knees, hands folded. He reached for the beer can and lifted it to his mouth. Sweat from the outside of the can dripped unnoticed onto the table.

“This is ridiculous,” he said out loud, although no one else was there. “I’m not some lovesick schoolboy.”

He let out a big sigh and quickly removed the lid before he lost his nerve. Actually, there wasn’t much in the box. Two ticket stubs, a matchbook, a few snapshots, just little stuff with big memories. The last thing he took out was a scarf she wore the last day they were together. She forgot it when she went home that afternoon. He always thought she left it on purpose. Maybe she did. He remembered how beautiful she was with the filmy blue material around her neck. He put all the objects back into the box and replaced the lid.

What do I do now, he thought. Joan Kinney had left him, without an explanation, in late September. Brian Kinney was born less than seven months later. Joan’s husband had been gone for almost six weeks during the time she got pregnant. Brian Kinney had to be his son. If at that moment someone asked him how he felt, he wouldn’t be able to tell them. He felt everything and nothing at the same time.

What would he say to Joan if he saw her now? Not if, but when he saw her, because he knew he had to. She was the only one who knew the whole truth. From what little he had been able to pick up about Brian’s childhood, he wasn’t sure he’d like the Joan she had become. And Debbie. Jesus, what, and how, would he tell her? And Brian. He couldn’t imagine what this would do to him. He sat back and closed his eyes. His life had just gotten very complicated and several other lives were about to experience the same thing. He was suddenly scared. Would all this change the way Debbie felt about him? He couldn’t begin to think how Joan would react. If she had just been truthful with him. Who knows? And Brian. On the outside, acting so strong. Many of the barriers he had formed as a child still solidly in place. But he knew there was another person there. One not so strong and sure of the world he lived in. In many ways, still, a child wanting to be held and loved the way every child deserved. The way his child would have been if things had been different.

Debbie’s face lit up when she saw who was coming into the diner. “Hey, Sweetie,” she squealed from behind the counter. Several customers looked up from their food then went right back to eating when they saw the detective. Carl had finally gotten to where he was comfortable in the Liberty Diner. He even nodded to a couple of the regulars he knew by sight. He took a seat at the counter and Deb brought him a cup of coffee. “What’s wrong, Honey? You look worried. Is it something to do with Brian?”

“Sort of, but not about his nephew. Claire and John are coming in at 9:30. All of that should be cleared up then.”

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there?”

Carl nodded. “I can’t talk about it now.” Before Debbie could comment, Carl added, “It’s not anything bad. Just something I found out and have to verify. You’re off at four today, right?”

“You better believe it, Honey.”

“I’ll pick you up and we can talk. Sound okay to you?” When she nodded, Carl took a sip of the hot coffee and looked at his watch. “I need to go.” He leaned over the counter and kissed Debbie on the mouth as the bell over the door rang again.

“I told you I hear bells when you kiss me,” Debbie mused.

“Me, too,” laughed Carl, for the first time in several days.

When Carl got back to the station, he told the Desk Sargent to let him know as soon as Claire and her son arrived, but that he was not to be disturbed before that. He went into his office and shut the door, a clear indication to all that he wanted to be left alone except for matters of the utmost urgency. Brian’s file was on his desk where he had left it the day before. He opened it and started reading the information again. There was nothing new. He knew there wouldn’t be. Finally, he just sat staring at the papers and let his mind wander.

It was 1970. Carl still remembered how hot that August was. He was a young police officer, fresh from his tour in Nam as an MP. One afternoon he clocked a Chevy Nova doing 55 in a 45 zone and pulled the car over. To his surprise, the driver was a young, good-looking, in an elegant sort of way, woman in her 20's. She wore a light blue sun dress and he could see her long bare legs when he looked into the car. He still gave her the ticket she deserved, but with apologies. Several days later he saw her in a coffee shop and started talking to her. Two weeks later she spent the first of many afternoons in his apartment. He was so different from the bully that she married, or rather, had to marry, that for a few hours a week she could forget what her real life was like.

She told him about her marriage and her young daughter. At first, Carl felt uncomfortable because she was married, but he knew he could easily fall in love with her if he let himself. He lived for the few hours with his Joanie. Then one day, it all fell apart for reasons he never knew until a few days ago.

“Carl, please. I have to go.” Joan said as she buttoned her blouse, ignoring the persistent pleading from her lover. When he realized she was actually leaving for good, he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him.

“Joanie, Honey. Why? Everything’s perfect. I love you. Why now?”

Joan closed her eyes and leaned her head against the strong chest, her hand absentmindedly combing through the rough curly hair on the chest next to her face.

“I think Jack knows or maybe he’s just suspicious. I want to stay with you, you know that, but I can’t. I have a husband and daughter to think about.” She hoped she sounded sincere. He would never know the real reason she was leaving. This was her secret. Forever. The visit to the doctor the day before confirmed her suspicions. She was pregnant, and Carl was the father. Of that she was sure. Jack had been out of town for over a month, working on a special project in Scranton when she got pregnant.

Joan grabbed her handbag and car keys and left the small apartment without looking back. Carl watched as she drove off, taillights disappearing across the parking lot and onto the busy street.  He sighed and headed to the shower, but stopped when he saw the blue scarf on the dresser. She was beautiful with that scarf around her long neck. He picked it up and let the silky material fall through his fingers as he caught the scent of Tabu. He remembered thinking how old fashioned that particular fragrance was, and how fitting for Joan. Finally, he stuffed the scarf in the bottom drawer. Stepping into the shower, he welcomed the isolation the little shower stall afforded him with nothing but the sound of the water to invade his thoughts. He just stood there, letting the hot water pour over his body. When he finished dressing, he sat on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on. He ended up staring at a picture on the wall for several minutes, without actually registering the scene. What had happened so suddenly to make Joan leave, he wondered. They were happy together. He had even asked her to leave Jack Kinney. He could make a good life for her and her little daughter. He didn’t know why she stayed with someone like Kinney, to begin with. Once dressed, he undid the lock box in his closet, took out his service revolver and placed it in the holster on his utility belt and left for work. He prayed it was a busy night. He needed to forget.

Forgetting was hard for him. He called her a couple of times, but she just repeated the words from that last night. “I have to stay with my husband. Divorce is against everything I believe. Please, leave it at that, Carl.” So, as much as he hated to, he left it at that.

But life had a funny way of not leaving things be. He saw Joan’s picture in the paper with other members of the church guild when they raised money for a young mother who was critically injured in a car accident. A seventeen-year-old Brian Kinney posed for the camera when he made the All-State soccer team in his senior year. The name in the headline accompanying the story caught his attention. As he read, he found what he was looking for. “The son of Jack and Joan Kinney...”. He stumbled onto Jack’s obituary by accident when a folded newspaper was left in the coffee room. He thought about calling Joan after he read it but figured there was no use. Too many years had passed by then.

A not so gentle knock on the office door brought Carl out of his thoughts. He stood as an officer showed Brian’s sister and her son into the small room. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he started asking questions. An hour later, Claire and her son were gone and the complaint had been withdrawn.

“Now what?” he asked himself. His mind worked out the possibilities. He could call Joan and...what? Accuse her of keeping her son from him all these years? Finally get the explanation he was denied all those years ago?

He had to talk to Brian and tell him the complaint had been formally dropped. “Brian.” Any other time, it would have been “Kinney”. Not Brian. Don’t get personally involved. But he was personally involved. He reached for the phone and dialed the number in the folder.

Brian was busily cleaning out a dresser drawer for some of Justin’s clothes when the phone rang. “Kinney,” he said, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he moved some more clothes around.

“It’s Carl. Can I see you this evening? Sometime around six?”

“Yeah, six is fine. Did something happen with my nephew? You’re not going to arrest me, are you? Justin told me that the DA was going to drop the case.”

“No arrest. Justin told you correctly. I’ll explain when I see you.”

Brian hung up as Justin and Michael came through the loft door carrying boxes and bags containing the rest of Justin’s clothes and other belongings.

“Who was that on the phone?” Justin asked.

“My six o’clock,” Brian said without thinking. When he saw the hurt look on Justin’s face, he quickly added that Carl was coming over at six to talk to him. He didn’t think he’d ever want to see that look again and made a conscious decision to watch what he said. He took the box from Justin and handed it to Michael who had already put his bags in the bedroom. He drew Justin into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against the blond hair. Brian knew it was okay when Justin put his arms around Brian’s slim waist and gave him a squeeze.

Michael took the box into the bedroom and dropped it on the floor next to the other stuff. He looked around at the changes Brian was making and thought about what it meant. He smiled, shaking his head at the thought of Brian Kinney, in love with a teenager. He thought he would still be upset, but he wasn’t. He knew how much Brian hurt when Justin left with Ethan. He sat with Brian in the hallway of the hospital the night of the prom. No matter how much he denied it, Brian loved Justin and was better off for it.  Deciding he had given the couple enough time to set things straight, he walked down the steps to the living room.

“I don’t know about you two, but I want a beer,” he said pointedly as he walked past his best friend. Brian gave Justin a quick kiss and they both joined Michael in the kitchen. Nothing else needed to be said.

Sipping her third glass of wine for the afternoon, Joan made no effort to get up when the phone rang. She was in no mood for tele-marketers or family, so she let the answering machine pick it up. A strange yet familiar voice came through the speaker. A voice she had longed to hear so many times in the past thirty years and at the same time, hoped she’s never hear again.

“Joan? This is Carl...Horvath. I need to talk to you as soon as possible.  It’s about... your son.”

She almost dropped the glass. So the Detective Horvath Claire had told her about was Carl. She wondered how long it would take him to put all the facts together. Not long, it seemed. She knew she would have to talk to him eventually, then he would know for sure. And once Carl knew, that Novotny woman would know. Then everyone, including Brian. Then what? She upended the glass and drank the rest of the wine in two swallows. So much for secrets. They never stayed that way forever.

Carl left his office at three-thirty to be at the diner by four. He hadn’t heard back from Joan and he figured he wouldn’t. He would have to go to her. But first, he wanted to talk to Debbie. A minor accident held up traffic so that he was fifteen minutes late pulling up to the diner. Deb was standing outside waiting. As soon as the sedan pulled up, she opened the passenger door and got in. “You’re late.”

“There was an accident,” he said, the tiredness evident in his voice.

“Honey, are you okay? What happened? Was the car damaged?”

He held up his hand to halt her string of questions. “Not me. I’m fine. Traffic was just backed up. That’s all.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Can we go to your place? I just want someplace quiet to talk.”

“Sure. Vic is with Emmett planning some big party.” Debbie wasn’t sure what was going on with Carl, but she had a feeling being alone with her wasn’t about a little afternoon delight.

Debbie made a pot of coffee while Carl watched from one of the kitchen chairs. Coffee done and poured, Debbie sat at the table, too. For once she kept quiet until Carl was ready to talk.

“Deb. When I first met Brian and found out his last name was Kinney...I knew a Kinney a long time ago.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Joan Kinney, Brian’s mother. I gave her a speeding ticket once.”

“It’s a wonder you didn’t have to give her a ticket for DUI,” Debbie said with more than a little contempt in her voice. She looked at Carl and asked, “How long ago was this ticket?”

“1970. Late summer.”

“And you remembered her from that long ago? That must have been some speeding ticket.”

Trying to stall with the rest of the story, Carl, picked up his cup and took a drink of the hot liquid. “You make good coffee, Hon. That stuff at the station is...”

“Carl! Quit stalling and tell me what’s going on.”

“Joan and I, we...saw each other for several months after that. I don’t have any excuse. I knew she was married and had a child. One day she just left. I never saw her again.”

Debbie sat back in her chair, trying to process the information she was hearing. So Carl and Joan had a little thing thirty-some years ago. Why all the... “Shit,” she thought to herself.

“You think Brian is...?”

Carl nodded. “Not think he is, Hon. He is... my son.”

“How can you be so sure? I mean Jack was there. She and Jack surely were...”

Shaking his head, he answered, “He was in Scranton for six solid weeks. Brian is my son. I didn’t think about it until he was arrested. His birth date was on the report.”

“What does Joan have to say?”

“I haven’t talked to her yet. I called her earlier but only got the answering machine. Before I see her, tell me about her. And Brian’s childhood.”

“I can give you my opinion, from what I saw and heard. Carl, Jack was a mean bastard. Drunk a lot of the time and ever meaner when he was. Brian...Brian took most of the punishment. I didn’t know him until he was fourteen, but you knew that already. He’d come over here, bleeding and bruised several times a month. I’m sure that was only the worst of it. There was a lot we didn’t see.”

Carl hated what he was hearing. If he had known about the child, maybe things would have been different. “And Joan. Why didn’t she stop it?”

“Joan’s life was the church, at least when I knew her. She pretended everything was okay, that she deserved what happened to her. She let Jack rule the house with an iron hand. Almost as if it was payback for something she did, some indiscretion she had to atone for. And it was, wasn’t it. You. She had to atone for what you and she had done. Her drinking got worse, too.”

“She didn’t protect her children?” That didn’t sound like the Joanie he knew. She was very protective of Claire when she was a child.

“God knows, Claire has a lot of emotional scars, but as far as I know, she was never physically harmed. Just being in that family is enough to scar anyone. Now that I know about...all this, maybe Joan felt she deserved to be punished. And her son? He had nothing to do with this.

“Battered wife syndrome,” Carl mumbled. “Brian. Now I think I understand about him. His attitude. Always having to be in control.”

Debbie smiled. “Oh, Baby, you don’t know the half of it. What are you going to do? Tell him?”

“I’m not sure. Would it change things? He’d probably hate me for not trying to rescue him. For leaving him there, in harm’s way.”

Giving Carl’s hand a squeeze, Debbie offered, “Honey, he’s a wonderful man.  Granted there are a few, quite a few, flaws, but none of them are bad. They’re just armor against getting hurt. Before Justin left, I think he’d been working on that armor and had a good chunk of the real Brian Kinney exposed. Brian’s learning. It just takes time. Maybe you can help, too.” No one spoke as they sat there holding hands for several minutes.

“Um, I need to go.” He stood and Debbie put her arms around him. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Hey, we all have pasts.”

They kissed at the door and Debbie watched Carl get into his car and drive off. “I’ll be damned,” she said softly. “Brian is Carl’s son. I’ll be damned.”

Carl drove away, thankful for Debbie’s understanding nature. He wasn’t sure what to expect from her, but it turned out okay. He didn’t like what he heard about Brian’s childhood, though. He still didn’t understand why she had kept his son a secret, no matter what Deb had said.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


The buzzer sounded and Brian got up from the computer to answer it. He buzzed the detective in and slid the heavy steel door open a few feet. Justin, who had been sitting on the sofa sketching, stood up.

“Do you want me to leave or go into the bedroom?”

“No. I have no secrets from you. You live here now.” Justin smiled at the words and the sentiment. He had just reached up for a kiss when a discrete cough was heard. They broke apart and Brian greeted his guest, shutting the door at the same time.

Carl sat in a chair and watched as the boys sat together on the white sofa. They looked very comfortable together without even trying. Deb was right about Justin being good for Brian.

“What happened with my sister and her spawn?”

“I talked to them for about an hour this morning. John told me what happened. It was just like you said. The DA was called in, and no charges are going to be filed and the report expunged. You should have no more problems from it.”

“Well, I’m glad the truth came out.”

“Thanks to Justin.”

Brian looked at his lover and took his hand. “Yeah. I figured he had a hand in this somewhere, “ and smiled. He received a red-faced, sunshine smile in return. “Is that all, Carl?”

“Yes,” Carl said as he stood to leave. At the door, he hesitated. “Brian, son, I’m glad it all turned out for the best. This wasn’t something that would look very good on your record.” Brian was surprised when the detective put a friendly hand on his shoulder and gave a squeeze.

“Thanks,” Brian said, confused at the change in Carl’s attitude towards him since this whole thing started. Sure, they’d been friendly in an “acquaintance” sort of way. He was part of Debbie’s life so Brian was sure to have to see him every once in a while. But this was just too weird. “Carl, is there something else wrong with this? You know, Claire or John? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“No. Legally, it’s all been settled. You don’t have anything to worry about there. I have to go.”

Brian watched as the elevator started its descent before he closed the door.

“Brian, what’s wrong?” Justin said, as he put his arms around Brian’s waist and pulled him close. “It’s all over with.” Hoping to lighten the mood, he added, “Now, where were we when we were interrupted?” Brian put his arms around Justin and kissed him. “Mmmm, yeah. That’s where.”

They walked to the bedroom, losing clothes as they went. As they reached the bed, Justin’s mouth on his skin wiped out any thoughts but the sensations going through his body right then.

Everything else could wait til tomorrow.

Justin was working the early shift at the diner the next morning, so Brian decided to go with him and eat breakfast. When they arrived, Emmett and Michael were already there. Brian slipped into the booth next to Michael and greeted both men.

Justin put on his apron, washed his hands and grabbed a pot of freshly brewed coffee and carried it over to the table. He poured Brian a cup then topped off the other 2 cups. He was just about to get their breakfast orders when he heard his name called out.

“Hey, Justin, let me have some of that,” a dark haired man a couple of booths down called out.

“Be right there, Al,” Justin said, shrugging. “I’ll be right back. Gotta keep the customers happy. Besides, he’s a good tipper.”

Brian watched as Justin poured the coffee, a smile on his face the whole time. He thought to himself that the smile alone was worth a ten dollar tip, even if it was for a cup of coffee.

When Michael and Emmett were done eating, they left, agreeing to meet Brian and Justin at Woody’s that evening. Debbie had arrived by then and when the other men left, she sat in the booth across from Brian.

“Hey, Hon. How ya doin’?”

“Fine,” he said, cautious of the tone of her voice. He had only heard it one or two times before and it usually meant something had happened. “Deb? What’s going on?”

“What do you mean,” she said, the pitch of her voice going up.

“Deb, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Sweetie. Just wanted to know how you were doing after all that stuff with your nephew. You know.”

“It’s over, Mom. Surely your boyfriend told you already. He came by and told me everything last night.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah. Deb, what is going on?”

“Nothing. Uhh, gotta go. Looks like Justin needs help.”

“Justin’s fine.” He looked at Deb and knew that was all he would get. “Fine, go back to work. Just remember, I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”

Justin came over to the table as Brian stood to leave. “What was that all about, Brian? She sure looked flustered.”

“I have no idea. You can never tell with straight women.” Justin laughed, his face lit up with his infamous smile. Brian couldn’t resist the invitation. He bent down and kissed Justin hard on the lips in front of everyone in the diner. There were a few catcalls and whistles when they were done. Debbie stood behind the counter, one hand over her mouth and the other on her chest. When did this happen, she wondered but decided she didn’t really care. Brian and Sunshine had found their way back to each other.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Carl tried calling Joan from his home one more time and again got her answering machine. He realized that the best thing to do was to just go to her house and make her talk to him whether she wanted to or not. It was still fairly early, so he hoped that she wouldn’t have started drinking already. As he opened the door, he stopped, then went back to the bedroom and picked up the box from the dresser. It was time to close this chapter.

He rang the bell and waited several minutes before Joan opened the door. “Hello, Carl. I figured you’d be here eventually. Come on in.”

Carl was surprised at the woman who stood before him. Gone was the long chestnut colored hair and sparkling eyes, the vivaciousness he saw emerging from the quiet woman to whom he gave the speeding ticket. The woman here with him was hard and sharp and sad. Maybe bitter is a better word.

“Joan.” That’s all he could say at the moment.

“Not what you expected, is it? Things change, Carl. Not always for the better. Sit down. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”

“No, I just had breakfast.” He sat on the immaculately cared for sofa and looked around at the room. Spotless and cold, was his impression.

“Well, go ahead and ask.”

“Do I have to ask?” He watched this stranger before him, tight-lipped, daring him to ask the question. He sighed. “Brian is my son, isn’t he?”

She nodded slightly.

“Why?” She just stared at him. Carl stood and paced the room. “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I would send you away? Did you think I would reject my own child?”

“It had nothing to do with you!”

“Nothing to do with me? He’s my son. All those years and I never knew. All those years as a child with Jack Kinney hurting him. And you never protected him. You let him be hurt. I can’t believe you’re the same woman I loved all those years ago.”

“That’s right. All those years ago. I did what I had to. I made Jack believe Brian was his.”

“Do you really think he didn’t know?” Carl sat back down on the sofa, his energy gone.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Don’t you think you’re the one that should do that?”

“I can’t. But he should know his real father.”

“I feel sorry for you Joan.” He got up. “Here,” he said, as he tossed the box toward her and left the house.

He drove off, not sure where he was heading, but ended up at the Liberty Diner. “Jesus,” he thought. “Who knew I would be spending so much time on Liberty Avenue?”

As soon as he walked into the diner, Debbie knew something was wrong. He headed for a booth, instead of sitting at the counter like he usually did. Deb delivered a hamburger to one of the customers, then went to sit with Carl.

“I saw Joan this morning.” He shook his head. “She isn’t the woman I knew. She actually told me that the fact that she was pregnant with my child when she left had nothing to do with me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“She indicated that if I wanted to tell Brian, I could. I can’t do it alone, though. What if he tells me to go to hell? What if he wants no part of me? He may not believe that I never knew about him and think that I just didn’t care. I know I can’t be a father to him at this point, but I’d at least like to be a friend and not known just as your boyfriend. You know?”

Deb nodded. “Want me to go with you? I get off in an hour if you want to go this afternoon.”

“Is it the right thing to do?”

“Who knows? He should be told by you, or Joan, not someone else, though.”

“No wonder I love you. I’ll wait until your shift is over. Maybe I should call him, make sure he’s at home.”

A little over an hour later, Carl and Debbie were seated in the loft.

“Okay. Debbie, what’s going on? You two eloping and want my help? What?”

“Honey,” Debbie started. “Brian. We just found out something about you that may be difficult for you to hear.”

“About me? What is it?” Debbie and Carl looked at each other. “Come on, what?”

“Brian, I knew your mother many years ago. We, I gave her a speeding ticket...”

“No shit.”

“Brian, we became friends.”

Brian wasn’t sure where this was going. “What do you mean, friends?” When neither one answered right away, he added, “You had an affair with Joanie? While she was married to Jack?”

“Yes.”

“And why are telling me this now? What does it have to do with me? Good for her if she got a little on the side.”

“Stop it, Brian,” Deb admonished.

Brian stood and walked around to the back of the sofa. “What, Debbie? Carl had an affair with Joanie now he’s your boyfriend. So what. I’m sure he’s, hell, both of you, have been with other people.”

“Your mother and I were together late summer and early fall of 1970. You do the math.”

“Math?” Recognition dawned and he turned his back to Deb and Carl. “And I was born in April of 1971. But, and as much as I hate to think about it, Joanie and dear old Jack were married and I assume sleeping together.”

“Jack was in Scranton for six weeks.”

“So what you’re saying is, that Jack’s not my father. You are?”

“Brian, believe me, I didn’t even know she was going to have a baby. She just left and never gave me a reason except that she thought Jack was getting suspicious and she couldn’t leave him. I called her several times, she told me to leave her alone, that she couldn’t see me anymore. I left her alone.”

“And me. You left me to be raised in that house. Get out, both of you.”

“Brian.” Carl started walking toward Brian.

“No Carl. Let’s go. Leave him alone for a while.” Deb was already opening the loft door. Carl looked one last time at his “son”, then he and Debbie left.

Back in the car, Debbie tried to comfort Carl. “Sweetie, he just needs some time to think everything through. This is a big thing for anyone to handle. And Brian, well, as much as he pretends to be this big uncaring person, he’s not really. He just keeps everything inside. He’ll come around. It’ll just take awhile. You’ll see.”

Justin got home late and the loft was dark. He figured Brian had gone out with the guys and decided to change and grab something to eat before he started his homework. As he entered the bedroom he could tell someone was in the bed. “Brian?”

“Who did you expect?”

“Why are you in bed at eight-thirty? Are you sick?” He sat on the side of the bed and felt Brian’s forehead. “No fever.”

“I’m not sick. Lay down with me.”Brian turned onto his back and Justin, having removed his shoes by the sofa, as usual, climbed onto the bed next to him.

Justin knew Brian would talk when he was ready, so he waited. Finally, Brian started talking, almost in whispers and Justin had to listen closely to hear all that he said. The story was almost surreal, finding out the man whom you thought was your father wasn’t. Those things only happened on soap operas and bad romance novels.

“I think I need to pay my dear old mother a visit.” Brian rolled to his side and gathered Justin into his arms, holding him tight.

“Do you want me to go with you to see your mother?”

“No. I need to do it alone. Besides, you have school.” Several minutes passed, with the two men holding each other. “Justin? You’re real, aren’t you?” Justin’s answer was a tender kiss. He didn’t see Brian’s smile but heard his words. “I love you.”

As Carl had done the day before, Brian knocked on Joanie’s door. He didn’t feel comfortable walking in, even though he grew up here. It wasn’t home to him. Not like Debbie’s house was.

“I suppose Carl talked to you. What do you want from me?”

“An explanation.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations. It was my life and I did what I had to. I did the only thing I could.

“And you let Jack beat me for no reason, knowing he wasn’t my father. Did Carl know about me?”

“No! I never told him. Do you know what would have happened if anyone found out about me and...him?”

“All you ever thought about was yourself. How it would look for you, not Jack, not Claire and not me. It was only you. As much as I hated Jack, I feel sorry for him. But you know something? He knew. I didn’t understand it at the time, but he knew. He knew I wasn’t his son. How many times did he tell me I was no son of his? I thought it was because he thought I was a sissy. “Sissy Boy”, he called me. But it wasn’t. The truth is I wasn’t a Kinney.” Brian grabbed the door handle and flung the door open. “Goodbye, Mother. Hope you can live with yourself for the rest of your life.”

“Brian, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to leave your house, Mother and I’m going to live my life the best way I know how. That includes being with my male lover, by the way. You met him. Young, blond, great ass.”

A half hour later, Brian was sitting at the counter in the diner, being served his usual turkey on whole wheat, no mayo, and a glass of water with lemon. “Thanks, Deb.” She smiled, told him no problem, and went about her business. She kept her eye on him as she served her customers, knowing he came here for more than a turkey sandwich. He picked at the sandwich and sipped the water. A half hour later, most of the sandwich still sat uneaten on the plate and the ice in the water was mostly melted.

“Not very hungry, I see. How ‘bout a lemon bar?” Deb said as she started to gather up his dishes.

“Deb, can we talk for a few minutes?”

“Sure, Honey,” she said to Brian, then to no one in particular, she shouted, “Taking five,” and led him into the very small employee lounge.

“Deb, I’m sorry about last night, the way I told you and Carl to leave.”

Debbie smiled and cupped his cheek. “I understand.”

“Does Carl?”

“Yes, I think he does. Look, he doesn’t want to be a father to you. He’s not going to tell you when to be home and who to see. That’s past. He just wants to be friends. That’s all. You don’t even have to tell anyone else. My lips are sealed for as long as you want. He just wants you to know he’s there for you if you want.”

“I won’t have to change my name, will I? New business cards will cost a fortune.”

“No, smart-ass.”

“You like him a lot, don’t you, Deb?”

“Yeah, I do. A whole lot.”

The next thing Debbie knew, Brian had his arms around her in a big hug. “I love you, Mom,” he said softly. Debbie knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears, so she didn’t even try.

“Get out of here. Go on. I have to powder my nose before I go back out there.”

“Sure. Wouldn’t want to scare the paying customers,” he said then kissed her cheek.

“Asshole,” Debbie said as she swatted his arm. Once the door was closed, she said, “I love you, too, Kiddo.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


Carl was sitting in his office going over some paperwork when the phone rang. As he reached for it, he looked up at the large window in his office. He stood when he saw Brian watching him.

“Horvath,” he said sharply, picking up the receiver and listening for a second, then, “I’ll have to call you back. Something important just came up here.” He put the receiver down and looked at Brian again. Neither one made a move for several moments. Brian watched him, taking in the look on the other man’s face, then smiled, nodded slightly and gave a casual salute to the detective, turned and walked away in his best Kinney fashion.

Carl just stood there, his own smile firmly in place. Maybe it was going to be alright after all.