CHAPTER 15: RETROSPECTIVE CLARITY Part 2

MICHAEL:

I can’t believe that I’m back here again. I know Pittsburgh is supposed to be my home, but like Brian, I’m just ready to get the fuck out of here. Some time ago, I realized that my problem wasn’t in moving to a new city; it was moving there without Brian. David was okay, but being without the man who I want to spend my future with was unbearable. Me being with Ben was different, because unlike David who was completely healthy, Ben has an expiration date. True, people with the virus are living longer now, but the fact still remains that there is something inside of him that can take him out at any moment. So to my mind, not wanting to wait until Ben dies is actually the humane thing to do. By moving Brian and I out of here, both Ben and that rat-bastard Boy Wonder, can actually find lives of their own. But before I can get Brian to see the wisdom and compassion in my plan, I have to get him to forgive me.

The headgames over the years weren’t exactly my idea, although I reaped the benefits of them often enough. They were hers. I’ll never figure out just how their love-hate relationship works. True, Claire was a mean, spiteful, and honestly, lazy little shit, but she was just as smart as Brian. In fact, she taught me all the tricks to get Brian to do my homework, including the veiled threats that would make him comply in order to avoid Jack’s fists. But most of all, she’s taught me how to capitalize on everything I know about Brian without meaning to. After all, I’ve been buying her silence for some sixteen years now,. Yes, I used some of Brian’s money to do it, but it still came from my hand, so it counts. Between Claire, and Lindsay’s advice and examples, I’ve been able to get Brian and myself a nice house in California, and set up a healthy nest egg where coupled with the sale of the store and all the items in it, I should be able to support Brian and me for the rest of our lives without a problem.

Of course, there will be some ground rules, like no fucking tricking! I’m so tired of having to get rid of everyone after he’s fucked them, or telling the ones who think they actually have a chance with Brian that they don’t. The only one that it didn’t work on was that hard-headed, snot-nosed, seventeen year old. I’m still pissed at Ethan for doing whatever he did to fuck up, although knowing Justin, he was just looking for a reason to get back into Brian’s bed. I mean, Brian is the best… well, so I’ve heard, but that’s beside the point. I plan on finding out for myself soon enough. I can’t help but think back to that episode in the comic shop some months ago. I know now that I shouldn’t have stopped him; that I should have taken what I could of him and let the chips fall where they may. It’s my one regret, since he was primed and ready for me to take us to the next level. It’s time we do that.

I get to the loft, intent on interrupting whatever Boy Wonder is doing to Brian. He’s had enough time to blow him during the time I’ve been away. It’s my turn now. I want to surprise Brian with my return so he doesn’t have a chance to escape the tongue lashing I want to give him before he kisses me and we make up as we always do. So, taking out my key, I place it into the lock… and nothing happens. All I can think is Who the hell fucked up now that has caused the lock to be changed?! I huff as now I have to ring the buzzer for the Super.

“Yeah?”

“A simple hello would have done nicely, but anyway, can you let me into the building?” I answer.

“Unless you live here, or know someone in the building who actually answers their buzzer, then no I can’t. New boss’ rules.”

What the fuck is going on? I turn on the charm… well as much as I am able to anyway. I’m tired and it’s been a long night since I took the red eye to get here by this morning. “Can you open the door, please? I’m here to visit my best friend, Brian Kinney, and I’m just coming in from the airport.”

“Ah, I thought I recognized the voice,” he says, with a hint of sarcasm that I just don’t have time or patience to address right now. But I will as soon as I get Brian to lodge a formal complaint against the asshole. “Again, Mr. Novotny, there is to be no admittance without a tenant's express approval.”

“Well all of that can be solved if you would call him and tell him I’m down here.”

“Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s against the new policy.”

“Well let me speak to your boss then. I’m sure he will be a lot more reasonable than you.”

“I doubt she would. You see, she doesn’t like you. In fact, I think if she had her choice between allowing roaches to inhabit her building, and allowing you in for any length of time, I’m almost sure she would happily usher in the critters. At least, they would be far more manageable and polite than you are.”

“Hey! That’s… you know what! Let me have the name of your boss. I want to file a complaint right now!” I yell. I can’t believe how rude some people with a little power are.

“Sure. Her name is Jennifer Taylor. Would you like to write that down or perhaps I can direct you to the nearest precinct, since technically you are trespassing. If Mr. Kinney were even remotely inclined to grant you entrance, she would still have veto power. It goes the same way for all tenants and has been added as a clause to their new leases. Since it was a welcome change and voted on unanimously by the tenant’s association, you really have no legal recourse, Mr. Novotny. I suggest you leave now. You don’t have to go home, but you do have to get the hell out of here! Good day to you!” The super disconnects the intercom. I try again and again, but he refuses to pick up.

“I’m so fucking fucked off!” I scream to no one in particular, even though people are looking at me as if I’ve grown another head.

I don’t even give a fuck anymore, and I really can’t believe Jennifer had the nerve to ban me! But maybe Ma can get in there where I no longer can. I probably should see her anyway though since she and I have things to discuss. Like the fact that I need the money to pay Lance back for getting me back to Pittsburgh. Sure I have the money in my account, but that’s earmarked for Brian and I to start our new life; I won’t touch it unless it’s absolutely necessary.

In fact, I should tell her I need a little bit more, since apparently I also have to pay Mel the five hundred back for fixing Brian’s car, although I really don’t see why since he’s sold it anyway. But I’m between a rock and a hard place there because she’s an attorney who can take me to small claims court where I’d end up having to pay the money back regardless. The last thing I need is a judge questioning why I didn’t pay it back when I had the money. There’s no telling what else will come out if they investigate. So I’ll ask Ma.

By virtue of her womb, she owes it to me to take care of me, and it includes getting Mel off my back.

I leave the loft, looking longingly at the entrance that just opened. But I still can’t go in there. The fucking Super is standing there watching me as if to make sure I’m leaving. I beat a hasty retreat when he picks up his cell phone, presumably to call the cops on me. It’s clear that no one would come to my rescue, especially in lieu of what Hunter might have told them.

I really need to find out what they know, so maybe I’ll head to the apartment first. Better to find out what that little shit told Ma before I outright lie to her to get what I want. Claire told me that when lying and scheming, it’s better to stick to the truth as much as possible. I’ve become an expert at it where Ma is concerned. I only tell her what I want her to know, then let her draw her own conclusions.

She’s really good for that, and it’s worked like a charm so far. I wait until I’m around the corner to hail a cab, laughing to myself and wondering how long that stupid super is going to be out there waiting for me to come back. Well let him do that, I have other fish to fry right now. And that begins with a skinny, nondescript hustler with a big fucking mouth. It’s time Ben makes a choice.

It’s either Hunter or me! If I were him, I would bet on the sure thing, which is me… Well that’s at least true until I can finally get Brian. I spend the rest of the time in the cab daydreaming about my impending victory over Boy Wonder, and finally having the man of my dreams.   

CYNTHIA:

Watching Brian and Justin move around today is hilarious. I don’t know what’s been happening between them for the last week, although I have my suspicions. I have noticed that with the amount of hours we’ve been working, trying to get Kinnetik up and running at full speed, neither have had the time, energy, or inclination to go out partying. I suppose that’s a good thing since each of them seem to be even more driven and focused than I’ve ever seen them. But there is also something different about them that I can’t quite put my finger on.

I remember the day after Brian met Justin. At the oddest times, I would catch him smiling to himself. Sure, he fucked the client, which always made him relax and laugh afterwards, but this was different. I asked him what had happened the night before, and he told me that Gus was born. Which at the time, I supposed would have put him over the moon.

However, that wasn’t it either. He had a look of wonder in his eyes- of infatuation- so prevalent that it was often remarked on in whispers during the day. He didn’t yell even once! It was only after the call from Michael that things took a turn. The next day, he was even worse than the mean and surly perfectionist he always was.

I later found out that because of the phone call from Michael, warning him against remaining involved with a specific young man, Brian followed the selfish edicts of his best friend and once again denied his own happiness. A week later, though, I found out just who Justin Taylor was. I was especially surprised when Brian told me that no matter what he was doing with the exception of being trapped in a meeting, Justin was to be automatically put through; a privilege that neither Michael nor Lindsay ever had, even though they wished they did. It’s the precise moment that I knew Justin was special. And although Brian and Justin had their issues in the beginning, it was also noted that he smiled and laughed a lot more, even if the asshole persona was still front and center.

I think what struck me the most about their dynamic was the fact that just hearing Justin’s voice made Brian think before he lashed out. It was vastly different from how the phone calls with Michael, Lindsay, and Debbie would go. Usually Brian would end the call even more frustrated than when he accepted the call in the first place. So much so that on several occasions I’ve thought of threatening Brian with quitting unless he stopped the repetitive harassment of the both of us. I never did it, but still.

It had gotten to the point where I dreaded doing the job I was paid to do as Brian’s assistant since it also required me to answer the damn phones. However with Justin’s calls, it was different; almost like he had the uncanny ability to know the exact moment when Brian was ready to explode. So the bottom line is that Justin is good for Brian, and vice versa. He keeps Brian young at heart, but it’s also more than that. I’ve known Brian for more than ten years, and it’s more like he’s been given a chance at a do-over.

He’s been given a chance to learn from the mistakes he’s made; to, at last, celebrate all of his accomplishments… to have something that is solely for him.

So I’ll do whatever I have to do to help them preserve what they have found with each other. Yes, they’ve both made their share of mistakes, and had their share of traumas because of them. But at the end of the day, whether certain idiots liked it or not, they made them together. And now that they have finally made things right between them, I know they are playing for keeps. I also know that it can’t hurt to have a little back-up in the form of a little 5’2 package with many years of axes to grind.

I’ve been storing up my arsenal of grievances against all of them for such a time as this… the time when Brian would finally wake up from his guilt-induced coma. In fact, I’ve already started. “Um, Brian, I need to tell you something. First off, I’m not apologizing or asking for your forgiveness…”

“What would you need to be forgiven for?” Brian shrugs at me. “Besides, you and I have never required that from each other.”

“Yes, that’s true, but this time you might feel that I’ve overstepped. In fact, all of you might feel that way.”

“Well?”

“Okay, so here’s the thing. I know a certain lady who asked me the name of someone we all know…”

“Cyn, you’re rambling.”

“I’m well aware of that, thanks!” I say as I take a calming breath. It’s one thing to help Brian without his knowledge, but it’s another thing entirely for him to know what you’re up to while planning the demise of one of the people he considers family. Well here it goes… “I was at a function the other night, and saw my old classmate Amanda. She was there checking after her wayward husband and his latest floozy. She finally decided to file for divorce from the scruffy bastard, which if you ask me, it’s been a long time coming since it really shouldn’t have happened in the first place. But you know how it is when you’re young, dumb and full of cum…”

Brian burst out laughing, along with Justin and Ted, who I hadn’t realized re-entered the loft. “Where the hell do you get these sayings, Cyn?”

“You’d be surprised. But anyway, she asked me if I knew the heifer clinging onto her husband like a second skin until they left the building. So I gave her the name of Lindsay Anne Peterson.”

“You did what?”

“I told her who she was, and no I don’t regret it, especially since it yielded the desired results.”

“What do you mean?” Justin asks me.

“I mean that even as we speak, there is no place for Lindsay to run or hide now that she’s been found out. So Bitchy Brenda the Bad Witch of Homo Oz will undoubtedly be very busy slipping and sliding, and peeping and hiding away from the press. And best of all, her parents are on an extended tour of Europe so she can’t stay there, or use their clout to save her.”

All three men are looking at me as if I have just grown another set of tits. I don’t exactly know if I should find it hilarious or insulting at this point. As they continue to stare, the door to the loft opens and in runs Melanie and another gentleman that I don’t know. The fact that they are laughing and talking as if they are old friends tells me a lot. But it’s the fact that Ted actually looks frozen that tells me even more.

“Hey, Cyn. Guys, I’d like to introduce you all to an old friend of mine and Ted’s. This is Dale Wexler, who we went to school with a million years ago. Imagine my surprise when I found him wandering around downstairs.”

Justin crosses the room over to him with his hand extended. I always get a kick out of his WASPy manners when I know the real Justin underneath all the good manners. It’s not that he’s a phony, but that he’s completely honest in his actions and reactions to situations. He can be just as impulsive as Brian, but with a cold, calculating glint in his eyes that people rarely ever see. For all his innocent looks, that look of razor-sharp intelligence, a sense of self, and the ability to see the core person underneath is something people miss. He’d lost that for a while after the bashing, but now that it’s returned, it’s back in full force. It’s hard to resist watching him in action.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says smoothly.

“Finally?” Dale asks.

“Yes. I heard about you long before now, only in a very different capacity. I was babysitting the night you appeared at Babylon some years ago. I would have loved to see you in action,” Justin answers with a million dollar smile in place.

“Down boy,” Brian laughs. “No flirting, Sunshine. Save all of that for me.”

“Oh don’t worry, Brian. It is.” Justin waggles his eyebrows, even while engaging in a silent conversation with the man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Brian blush before, but it’s on full display right now. Yes, there is definitely something that has changed between them… and it’s good!

Dale laughs. “Brian, you sure have your hands full with this one. Don’t change a thing.” He shakes hands with Justin first, and then Brian, before reaching out for Ted, who he kisses firmly on the mouth. “How are you, my little fish?”

Ted leans into him, wrapping his arms tightly around him in an embrace. Usually Ted is conservative, and standoffish. At least, he has always been anytime I’ve seen him prior to his absence. But seeing him with Dale is very eye-opening to the Ted Schmidt that he’s apparently always kept so carefully hidden.

“I’m well, Master. But for the sake of everyone here, why don’t we do away with the formalities… for now? I would hate to shock them.” Ted laughs.

“Very well, Ted. But seriously, how are you?” He looks at Ted closely, taking in his appearance, and the clarity within his eyes. “No more, right?”

“More like never again. I promise.”

“Good. You deserve the best, Ted, and it all starts with you. Remember that, okay?”

“I will, and thanks Dale… for everything.”

None of us are sure what everything entails, but apparently Dale knows. He reaches out to hug him again. “We’ll always be friends, Ted. Next time, if there is one, come to me. Now let’s get to the reason I am here, shall we?”

“Before we get to that, does anyone want coffee?” Justin asks, already moving towards the kitchen area. “I have a feeling we’re going to need the fortification.”

After we all assent, and Justin has finished, we settle into the sitting area we have dubbed as our conference room. I can’t wait for the office to be finished. This has worked well so far, but I know Brian. He hates clutter, and since we began working on Kinnetik, word has somehow miraculously gotten around to some of our former clients and they have been calling. The meeting with Remson is scheduled for tomorrow at Vanguard, and Melanie is still putting the screws to Vance. With any luck, the office can be finished by the beginning of next week. It’s already a given that we’re going to need the space, and the extra hands.

Dale begins. “So, Ted called me this morning about the situation with you, Brian, and Justin. I’m glad Mel is here because perhaps she can answer some questions for me from a legal point of view. It seems that Debbie’s mortgage has been being paid, along with the mortgage on two other houses. One is in Palm Springs, California, while the two are right here in Pittsburgh. Does the name Claire Kinney mean anything to any of you?”

“She’s my sister, who I can’t stand. Trust me when I say the feeling is entirely mutual. But what has she got to do with all of this?” Brian asks.

“The house she lives in is in Debbie’s name.”

“How is that possible? As I understand it, the mortgage was transferred into her name some years ago right before her husband abandoned her and the devil’s spawn she calls her sons. I’ve been giving her money to pay it… or at least I was until I lost my job at Vanguard.”

“That’s the thing, Brian. You haven’t been.” Dale hands out some packets he’d taken out of his briefcase. “As you can see, I was also able to make copies of the cancelled checks and have listed them in date order for your convenience. The first packet is for the house that Debbie owns and lives in on Sycamore Lane. The second packet is for the property in her name in Palm Springs, but the third…”

“1875 Cherry Street is Claire’s address. That son of a bitch has been paying your sister’s mortgage, Brian,” Justin says, darkly. “What the hell does she have over him to make him do that?”

“Oh fuck!” Melanie exclaims.

“What? What is it?”

“Your nephew, John, Brian. I heard Lindsay and Michael talking about him at the house one day, not long before you were falsely accused of molesting him. It was back when we were still considering having another child. Anyway, Michael mentioned that you were babysitting John for Claire and had brought him into the comic shop.”

“Yeah, I did. But what’s this got to do…”

“Let me finish, Brian. Michael asked me if there was a legal way to turn the tables on someone who was blackmailing someone else. I told him he would have to have proof of the blackmail before filing a police report for the person to be taken in and questioned. He said that it had been going on for almost a decade. When I asked him what it was about, he evaded the truth as usual. So, since Michael has been paying her mortgage, all of the money you have been giving her could be seen as gifts. You could sue for the money back, but you won’t win there. In Michael’s case however…”

Dale smiled. “If you will all turn to page five of the packet, you’ll see how you can recoup the money while naming her as an accomplice. Thanks to Ted, I have included copies of your transaction history in terms of the amounts you have given to Michael Novotny. On the checks he’s written to Claire, in the memo section it specifically says ‘mortgage’. Then on page six are the checks Brian has written to Claire. Tell me what you see in the ‘memo’ section.”

“Mortgage,” Justin gasps.

“Exactly. But upon further digging, it turns out that Claire has two very bad habits that she has kept rather well-hidden. Well three, if you include blackmail into the mix. She’s a sex addict, and a high-stakes gambler who is currently on a losing streak a city-block wide, and has been for past several years. I talked to a PI friend of mine, and he uncovered that her habits are the reason that Townsend left her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to convince the judge that their sons should live with him, which is part of the reason he stopped paying child support. Although he’s still keeping up their insurance and sends them care packages several times per month. He simply refuses to allow any of the money he makes to enter her hand. She lost her job two years ago and has been pissing away the money you give her since Michael has not only been using your money to pay her mortgage, but also the utilities and other necessary bills to keep Child Services from her door. When was the first time Michael borrowed money from you with the promise of paying it back, Brian?”

“Since we were almost seventeen years old. I was working at a mechanic shop back then as the assistant to the owner. Plus I was working on getting a scholarship to college, so I wasn’t really paying much attention to him. He kept badgering me for a loan for some bullshit or another. At the time, I lent him the money just to shut him up so that I could get back to designing my future.”

“She must have started back then,” Mel whispered. When Brian asks her to say it again, she did. “Hear me out, Brian. When Michael was asking those questions, he mentioned that he was in debt to her. He said that he was doing something at the time that would ruin his friendship with you, even though it wasn’t illegal.”

“Brian…” Justin closes his eyes and when he opens them, all I see is anger. “Your car, and the money, and the…”

“Broken ribs, I know,” Brian whispers.

“What?” I ask because I am genuinely confused about what those things have to do with this situation.

“Michael must have told my father about the job, and the car my boss loaned me to use while I was working for him; the money I hid in my room so that if my scholarship plans fell through, I would still at least be able to go to college part-time. The only people who knew about it were Vic, and later Debbie. My only guess is that Michael overheard and told my father, which in turn Claire overheard and began to threaten Michael. It’s the only scenario that makes sense.”

“What happened?” Mel asks. I can tell he dreads giving the answer, but in order to put all these pieces together, we all need full disclosure.

“I arrived home one night to find Jack sitting in the dark, waiting for me. Joan and Claire were somewhere else- probably church, knowing my mother as I do. Jack started yelling at me about my pansy, fancy plans to be better than him. He ordered me to quit my job, and told me not to bother looking for the money I’d stashed away. It was already spent for my room and board, which meant it was used to restock his beer and mother’s scotch collection. He and I had a fight… well really, he punched me and kicked me repeatedly in the ribs, determined that I would have to sit out for the rest of the season. Somehow, he found out that the game where a recruiter for Carnegie Mellon’s soccer team was coming to see me the next day, and it would make or break my dreams of a scholarship. He said that if I had time to work then I had time to work with him at the steel mills, since that was the only thing I should aspire to. It was his legacy, after all, and no son of his would embarrass him by becoming better than what was expected. Other men’s sons had carried on their legacy, so why should I think I was better than they all were? After he left me on the living room floor bleeding, I escaped to Deb’s house. Only Vic and Michael were there. Vic is the one who took me to the hospital while Michael tagged along. I didn’t register it then, but now I know what the secret smiles and daydreaming was about. Whenever he was spoken to, or asked a question, it had to be repeated several times before an answer would be given.”

“How is that any different than normal?” Justin says, sardonically.

“I would imagine that it would have been because Michael is usually hyper-focused where Brian is concerned,” Ted says as Melanie and I nod. “I don’t know how many times I’ve heard him say that anything to do with Brian is his business.”

“Ah, yes. It’s usually followed by he’s my best friend! How could I miss that?” Justin rolls his eyes. “So now the question remains, when do we confront him? And Debbie? She’s soooo not going to remain blameless in all of this!”

“The meeting to Remson is tomorrow, so I say let’s wait until we have that account in the bag. Also, if we get the account, we can put a rush on having the offices finished sooner, including Mel’s. I wouldn’t want you guys to have to do it here,” I tell them. “Besides, Michael isn’t allowed in the building, and once your mother gets wind of all this new information, I’m pretty sure Debbie is next on her banned list.”

“My mother?”

“Oh yes. Did Mel and I forget to mention that she owns the building as of last week?”

“You knew?” Justin asks Brian, as the latter snickers.

“No. I’m just learning this as are you, Sunshine. But I mean, are we really surprised at this point? You had to have received your penchant for subterfuge from somewhere, and I’m sure your sperm donor wasn’t it. But your mother has that same look of innocence about her where no one would ever suspect a bitchy bone in her body. It makes sense that she would do all she can to protect you.”

“Us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, Brian. Us. My mother may have had her issues with you in the past but you’ve proven yourself in more ways than one. She wouldn’t, at this juncture, protect me while forgetting about you. It’s just not her way.”

“So we wait for all of the other information to come in as well,” Mel interjects. “The files should be ready by then to confront Michael and Deb with all of their perfidy. I also think we may have to include Lindsay in this.”

“Why?” Brian asks.

“Because this has her hand all over it. Not from the beginning, but in very specific parts, like owning a property across the country. The thing I can’t figure out is why she would even suggest that to Michael unless…”

“An absentee parent, who happens to live out of state, would be more apt to give more in child support?” Ted asks.

“Which would make sense if Gus was born at the time Deb had Michael buy the house,” I say.

“It’s all in the planning, Cyn,” Justin tells me. “WASPs are born organizers, even if some of us rarely do it. Lindsay would have been planning Gus’ birth from the time she slept with Brian, only it didn’t work out the way she might have hoped.”

“You think she was planning to get accidentally pregnant the night of Midsummer Madness?” Brian asks.

“Indeed, I do. What better way to have you fulfill your husbandly duties when she knew that marrying her would be out of the question for you, regardless of her upbringing? I hate to say this, but the fact that she’s been living as a lesbian for the past ten plus years is purely incidental. She still got what she wanted, which was your child, Brian. Having Melanie was just the added bonus.” Justin sits back, looking smug. And I have to admit that it’s with good reason that he does. Oh how I wish they had met Justin YEARS ago! He could have saved them all so much heartache by seeing Lindsay’s deception straight away.

“So Saturday?” Brian asks.

“Definitely!” Mel concurs. “Saturday is ‘splatterday’!”

If I was Michael, Lindsay, and Deb, I would be looking for a place to run and hide right now. But then again, roaches scatter when the light is shone on them. I find myself humming the chorus to ‘Nowhere to Run” by Martha and the Vandellas, which was a favorite of my mother’s whenever I was in trouble as a kid. Saturday really can’t come soon enough for me.