Chapter 23 - Totally Periolic.

“Blah, Sonny boy! Blah, blah, blah, Daddy . . .”

Kevan smiled up at The Daddy when the big person thing came into the pretty brown and green room. The smile seemed to make The Daddy happy since he smiled back and made even more happy-sounding mouth sounds. Kevan really enjoyed listening to the mouth sounds. Not only did he just love to hear the deep, soothing tone of The Daddy’s voice, but he was also getting rather good at distinguishing some of the different noises that The Daddy made. There were a lot of mouth sounds that The Daddy said over and over. The Daddy talked a lot about The Papa. He also said the mouth sound ‘Kevan’ a lot of the time. Of course he also just babbled a lot, making silly noises that were too fast to catch, but overall Kevan thought he was starting to figure out some of the repetitive noises.

There was one mouth sound that he heard this morning again and again . . . ‘Sonny boy’. The ‘Sonny boy’ sound was always said with a smile and a happy tone. When The Daddy would move away from Kevan’s crib or the place he laid when his wet diapers were being changed, The Daddy would often say that particular sound over and over. ‘Sonny Boy’. It was a nice mouth sound.

Kevan was busy thinking all about mouth sounds this morning. But, when he heard The Daddy saying that ‘Sonny boy’ sound again, he turned to look over at The Daddy, who was getting another new clean cloth thing out of the big wooden box thing that stood against the far wall. When The Daddy saw Kevan looking at him, he said the ‘Sonny boy’ yet again.

And then something inside Kevan’s baby brain just sort of clicked!

HE WAS ‘SONNY BOY’!

Just like The Daddy was ‘Daddy’ and The Papa was ‘Papa’, the mouth sound ‘Sonny boy’ was him! Wow! What an amazing discovery. He was Kevan AND Sonny boy! Well, what do you know?

The Daddy said ‘Sonny Boy’ again and Kevan looked up at the beautiful smiling happy face. He burbled back at The Daddy to let the nice-smelling one know that he got it finally. He was ‘Sonny boy’ for The Daddy.

Ahhhhh! That was a lot of work for a just-barely-five-month-old baby. Kevan was pretty much done for the day, he figured. Good thing all he had to do now was enjoy his breakfast, smile and then, in a few minutes, go back to sleep. It wasn’t easy being a baby, you know.

"I need a plan, Daph!" Justin blurted out the second Daphne opened the door to her dorm room.

"Okay. We can do that. We're excellent at plans. The sneakier the better!" Daphne replied as Justin bustled past her into the room and deposited Kevan's baby carrier on the countertop by the window - the only relatively clear space in the small, crowded and disorganized room. “What are we planning? A hostile takeover of a large multi-national corporation? The downfall of a corrupt South American dictatorship? A major diamond heist right under the noses of the FBI? What?”

Daphne plunked herself down on one of the room’s two daybeds and shoved off a towering stack of books so that Justin could join her. The dispirited youth quickly joined his friend, leaving the baby snoozing in a puddle of sunshine. As soon as they were both comfortable, Daphne pulled a ratty-looking old crocheted afghan over both their laps and settled back ready to listen.

“I'm afraid that what I’ve got in mind is going to be much, much, much more difficult than any of those things, Daph,” Justin insisted with an absolutely serious demeanor. “What we need to do is de-stress Brian Kinney. Without him knowing we’re doing it, of course.”

“Oh. Is that all? No problem. How about we just lock him in the basement for two weeks and only let him out for bathroom and sex breaks. He’ll be as mellow as a well fed pussycat in no time,” Daphne giggled at the image of a ‘Sex Slave Brian’ that she’d conjured up in her imagination.

“I’m serious about this, Daph,” Justin interrupted her fantasy and dragged her attention back to the immediate discussion.

For the next fifteen minutes, Justin explained everything that he'd been sensing from his partner in the past month or so and included a detailed description of the screaming match in Brian's office the week before.

“We sort of worked it out afterwards, but not really,” Justin continued, getting to the core of his worries. “I mean, Brian hasn't yelled at me or Kevan since, but he also hasn't been himself. It's like he's been avoiding us - staying later and later at work and barely talking at all when he does come home. Brian's building up to a Grade A freak out - I can feel it - and if that happens I'm scared that it'll be all over. I know him and most of the time I know how he’s gonna react before he does himself. Right now he's avoiding the problem but the stress is still building up inside. He's due to explode any day now. When it happens he'll be just like a wounded animal. First he'll go into hiding and lash out at anyone who even tries to get close enough to help him. Then he’ll feel guilty for having lashed out at the people he cares about and convince himself that he doesn't deserve their love so that he feels justified in pushing everyone away. Me and Kevan included. I can't let that happen.”

Daphne, who'd listened sympathetically to her best friend’s description of the situation, surprised Justin by breaking out into a huge smile at this point. “This is PERFECT!” the girl announced, adding a gleeful clap to punctuate her assertion.

“Gee, Daph. Couldn't you at least pretend to feel bad for me?” Justin groused, looking even more dejected in comparison with the giggling girl next to him.

“Sorry, Jus! I didn't mean that your predicament with Brian was perfect, just that I already know the perfect solution. See, just this morning my friend Kat was complaining about how her low-life, knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing, loser of a boyfriend broke up with her less than a week before Valentine's Day. AAAAANNNNDDD, she'd already sprung for this big, romantic weekend trip to Stowe, Vermont, for the two of them. Which, I'm pretty sure, means that she'd be happy to sell you and Brian her weekend! You can probably talk Kat into a pretty sweet deal even - I'm sure she’d be happy to take anything you offered rather than think she'd wasted all that money for nothing. And it means you can take Brian away for the weekend, give him some intensive Justin loving and de-stress him before he explodes. I'll even babysit Kevan while you're gone since this year I'm protesting Valentine's Day and the unfair way it inflicts psychological trauma on single people - like me. So, see? It's perfect!”

“Sounds like a great plan, Daph, except for one thing . . . Brian will never agree to go. I mean, really? A romantic weekend away would be a tough enough sell all by itself, but over Valentine's Day? He’ll never go for it. Fuck! That in and of itself would probably push him completely over the edge - there's NOTHING that screams domestication more than going away to some romantic ski lodge for V-Day.”

“Shit, Justin! Have I taught you nothing over the years?” Daphne stood up as if to lecture her longtime co-conspirator. “It's a good thing you came to me. You're going to have to be a LOT sneakier than that if you want this to work, Jus. You don't TELL him about the weekend. You don't even ask him to go. You don't want to even give him the option to say ‘No’.” Daphne started pacing back and forth in the small area of floor space available in the dorm room. “Now, this is what you're going to do. First, you call Cynthia . . .”

“Cynthia, why is my calendar blocked out for the whole day on Friday and Saturday morning?” Brian asked, interrupting his assistant who was on the telephone when Brian came up to her desk.

“Please hold,” Cynthia intoned professionally to the caller before pressing the ‘hold’ button and turning her attention to her boss. “You’ve been asking me to set aside some time for you to brainstorm for potential cold call clients, Brian. This is the first large block of time I could find on your schedule, and you don’t have anything important pending for any current clients, so I just booked you out for the whole day. I figured that if you don’t need all the time for your brainstorming, there’s always plenty of paperwork and other administrative stuff I can give you to occupy your time.”

“Oh. Good thinking, Cynthia,” Brian replied, seemingly satisfied with the answer he was given.

“That’s why you pay me the big bucks, boss,” Cynthia smiled at Brian’s retreating back, waiting until the executive was all the way in his office with the door closed before she went back to her telephone call. “Okay, Justin. He’s gone again. Now, you should be all set. I’ve cleared his highness’ calendar for all day Friday so you guys can head out for your weekend getaway on Thursday evening. So far he doesn’t suspect a thing.”

“Thanks, Cyn. You’re the best,” Justin’s voice sounded relieved even through the small speaker on the telephone headset Cynthia was wearing.

“No. YOU’RE the best, Justin. If this works and you can get Brian to relax a bit then I’ll owe you big time. If you hadn’t proposed this little vacation, I was going to insist he take one myself. He’s been a bear to work with the past few weeks. You’re more than welcome to him,” Cynthia insisted. “Just, please, bring him back in a better mood so I don’t have to kill him.”

“I’ll do my best, Cyn. Thanks again,” Justin said before hanging up to continue with his plans.

Brian groaned as he rolled over and slapped at the alarm in order to stop the incessant *beep, beep, beep, beep* noise. Once the clamour was cancelled, he settled back into his pillows while he mentally reviewed this Thursday’s agenda. He already knew the day was going to be a bitch - he had three important meetings and, as of nine pm the night before, the boards for the first one hadn’t even been finished. On top of that, he had a conference call with Miss Scarlet at ten to discuss finding him a new agent/publicist to take over the piles of crap that GQ was still getting from his fans and folks wanting interviews.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Justin had informed him that he HAD to be home by six tonight - giving some flimsy excuse that they were supposed to have dinner with Mother Taylor. If Brian didn’t show up, his blond had promised to wait until he was asleep and then castrate him with a pair of rusty garden shears. Brian didn’t really think Justin was serious, of course, but he wasn’t exactly willing to push him and see for sure either. They hadn’t been communicating real well lately but he could tell that Justin was pretty much at the end of his rope and not happy with Brian’s standoffish behavior. Brian figured that going to dinner with Mother Taylor was probably going to be a lot less painful than the ‘Talk’ he’d be subjected to if he tried to back out.

The blond in question was still firmly entrenched in dreamland with his head hidden under a pillow so that no alarm would bother him. Brian smiled at the familiar sight. For all his usual enthusiasm and energy, Justin was NOT a morning person. Brian leaned over and left a kiss on an exposed shoulder - the only part of his bedmate that wasn’t covered - before grudgingly rolling away and getting out of bed.

After taking care of business in the bathroom, Brian pulled on a pair of sweatpants and then shuffled across the hall into the nursery. Kevan was already awake but seemed content. Or at least he’d been too busy chewing on Uglyworm’s tail to start crying. The adoring smile that Brian received as he leaned over the railing of the crib to pick up his son was heartwarming. Brian was constantly amazed by the fact that this little ray of mini-sunshine was always so thrilled to see him. That kind of unconditional love was something that Brian found hard to understand no matter how much he craved it.

“Morning, Sonny boy!” Brian whispered as he lifted the baby out of the crib and laid him down on top of the changing table. “How’s Daddy’s big boy, huh? Oh, you’re stinky already this morning, I see. Wonderful. You couldn’t have saved that for after I left for work, Sonny boy? Your Papa’s going to get jealous if he finds out you’re giving me all the fun daddy jobs, you know.” Brian kept up a running commentary as he efficiently changed the diaper, cleaned everything up and put a clean onesie on the baby. “Now, let’s go get the paper so Daddy has something to read while Sonny boy has his breakfast. Doesn’t that sound like a fun idea? Of course it does!”

Brian hoisted Kevan onto his hip and the two of them headed down the hall towards the front door to start on what had become their morning routine. After turning off the alarm, Brian opened the door and then quickly sprinted down the front walk barefooted to retrieve the morning paper from where it was waiting in it’s box by the front gate. A few tiny snowflakes were fluttering down from the sky and Brian briefly regretted the fact that he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt or shoes before coming outside this morning, but since he was already halfway to the newspaper box he just decided to move faster so he could get himself and Kevan back inside and warmed up sooner.

At the end of the walk Brian discovered, to the detriment of his cold feet, that there was something blocking the gate. It seemed a medium-sized parcel wrapped in craft paper had been placed just inside the gate. He hadn’t noticed it at first because it was partially obscured by a small drift of snow. He quickly bent down and picked it up, dusting the snow off the top in the process. He was trying to juggle the box while not dropping his son, and at the same time reaching into the newspaper delivery box, when he noticed that the parcel didn’t have any postage or a return address.

“Damn it! That little fucker. I told him to quit sending us this shit!” Brian fumed, assuming that this was just another of the packages his fanboy stalker kept sending. Brian dropped the parcel and just before it hit the ground he kicked it with his foot so that the entire bundle flew off, eventually landing several meters away in the middle of the snow-covered street. “I told you we would just toss anything else you sent, you loser!” Brian yelled to the street at large as the package landed with a thud and a faint sound of breaking glass. “Stop sending us crap we don’t want and leave us the fuck alone!”

With that pronouncement, Brian grabbed his paper, made sure he had a good hold on Kevan and then sprinted back inside.

When Justin finally crawled out of bed about fifteen minutes later, he found his partner seated peacefully on the couch in the Greatroom with Kevan propped up on pillows under Brian’s right arm. The baby was happily nursing away while his Daddy calmly read the paper which was neatly folded up in Brian’s left hand. It was a lovely and very domestic scene which just screamed contentment. If only Brian could see himself like this. If only he’d acknowledge that THIS was what made him happiest and that there was no reason to keep fighting the one thing that made him feel so good.

“Good morning boys,” Justin greeted them with a grin as he passed by, ruffling Kevan’s hair and leaving a kiss on Brian’s cheek at the same time.

Brian smiled at the passing blond. Unfortunately, as his eyes followed Justin’s disappearing ass into the kitchen, he also caught a glimpse of the clock and noted the time. “Shit! I’m going to be late,” Brian swore, his loud words startling Kevan as well as Justin. “Sorry, Sonny boy, but it looks like breakfast is over. Daddy has to head off to work and be brilliant again.” Brian rose to his feet, scooping Kevan up in the process, and trotted off to the kitchen in pursuit of his relief. “Tag, you’re it!” Brian teased as he handed off the baby to Justin and immediately jogged off down the hall to finish getting ready.

When Brian pulled out of the driveway twenty minutes later on his way to the office, he made sure to drive over the dented parcel that was still lying in the middle of the street in front of the house. He didn’t pay any attention to the car parked off to the side as he drove by. Which was probably a good thing, because he also didn’t see the furious look the man sitting in the car shot his way as the parcel was flattened by the Audi’s tires.

As Brian was getting off the elevator Cynthia came sprinting down the hall towards him with a mug of coffee in hand. Brian hadn’t taken more than two steps into the reception area before his assistant was pulling off his overcoat, handing him the mug of coffee and taking away his briefcase. She was also talking at him so rapidly that he only caught about every third word.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down there, Speedy Gonzales,” Brian ordered. “All I got out of that was that Marty wants to see me in his office. That’s hardly the kind of momentous announcement that would have you acting like the Energizer Bunny on steroids. I talk to my boss in his office every day. So, what’s going on?”

“He wants to see you right away,” Cynthia insisted, reaching up to smooth Brian’s hair.

“What’s the rush?” Brian let her turn him around so he was facing the hall where Marty’s office resided.

“He’s been on the phone all morning with his attorney,” Cynthia chattered as she dogged his footsteps down the hall. “It can only mean one thing.”

“He’s divorcing his fourth wife?” Brian joked, buttoning up his suit jacket as he paced after Cynthia.

“He’s finally making you partner!” Cynthia asserted as they rounded the corner and threaded their way through the desks of various administrative staff.

“Oh . . . Well, then, what are YOU so excited about?” Brian asked, trying but losing the battle to squelch the grin that had broken out on his face.

“I’m happy for you,” Cynthia replied, but then relented when she spied Brian’s disbelieving expression. “And the Partner’s Assistant gets to be a raving bitch to everybody . . .”

“Aha! That makes much more sense,” Brian confirmed, stepping up to the door of Marty’s office and hesitating just for a moment.

Cynthia knocked on the doorframe for Brian and, when there was a faint response, opened up the door. “Get in there . . . And good luck, Partner!”

“Brian! Come in. Come in!” Marty Ryder announced as soon as Brian walked into the large and elegantly appointed office. “Have a seat.” Marty directed, gesturing Brian towards the vacant chair in front of the big glass desk. Brian noted that the other chair was already occupied by a short-statured man with a closely-shaved head who was looking Brian over with greedy little black eyes. “Brian, this is Gardner Vance.”

“Mr. Vance,” Brian politely offered his hand to the seated man and then turned his attention back to Marty Ryder. “You wanted to see me?” Brian sat, leaning forward expectantly with his elbows on his knees as he waited to hear the good news.

“I did indeed. There’s big changes coming, Brian,” Marty declared with a smile directed at the still silent man sitting in the second guest chair. “I wanted you to be the first to hear . . . I’ve sold the agency to Gardner.” Brian slouched against the chair back and blinked at this wholly unexpected announcement. “Yep. Gardner here has been on my tail for over a year now and he finally made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. *Hahaha* Yeah. Now I can finally buy that place down in Bermuda, retire and play golf till I drop!”

Brian shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Congratulations, Marty,” Brian responded, standing up and looking down accusingly at the two men, both of whom were clearly pleased with themselves. “So . . . what about me, huh?” The smile on Marty’s face faded in an instant. Brian shook his head, “You made me a promise, Marty. You’ve been dangling a partnership over my head for more than a year now, saying that all I had to do was get THIS client or THAT renewal. And now, after I handed you a record breaking profit year, you sell out before making me partner . . . So now what?” Brian looked from Ryder over to his new boss.

“Ryder tells me you’re the best Account Exec he’s got,” Gardner Vance finally spoke up, his smooth British accent not masking the hint of hostility underlying his tone.

“He’s right. I am,’ Brian confirmed. “I brought in over a third of the accounts on this agency’s books all by myself. Including our biggest client to date - Armani.”

“Which is why I plan on firing everyone else,” Vance stated baldly.

“Oh, good. I’ve always hated those long lines at the water cooler,” Brian tried to make light of this news, sitting back down again so that he could look Vance straight in the eye.

“He also tells me that you are arrogant, willful and insubordinate,” Vance went on while Ryder tried to look busy shuffling through the papers on his desk.

“I’ll try my best to live up to my reputation,” Brian said with a humorless smirk and a dirty look shot in Marty’s direction.

“In addition,” Vance went on as if Brian hadn’t spoken, “I hear that your celebrity status and . . . shall we say, your ‘personal situation’ . . . have disrupted work here on more than one occasion,” Vance accused, piercing Brian with a steely and equally humorless glare. “Frankly, Mr. Kinney, I don’t give a fuck if you’re the latest, greatest discovery of medical science, or if you’re the proud papa of a hundred adorable miracle babies. And I really don’t want to know how many screaming fans are dying to see your naked ass in a magazine. I don’t need a pretty face who can model the latest fashions or somebody who can’t leave his personal life at home. What I need is an Ad Exec - plain and simple - and all I care about is whether or not you can bring in clients and create ads that will keep them here. So, the way I see it, you have one week to convince me there’s a good reason why I shouldn’t fire you too . . .”

Justin was in the process of loading the suitcases he’d packed for the weekend into the back of the Jeep when he was surprised by Brian driving up in the Audi. He turned around with a guilty look on his face, preparing himself to ‘surprise’ Brian with the news of their snowy getaway . . . and hoping that his partner wasn’t going to throw the expected tizzy fit about the whole thing.

“Brian! Wow, you’re home early. I didn’t expect you until at least six,” Justin started off, faltering a bit because he really hadn’t been planning on Brian getting home for at least three more hours and hadn’t yet had time to rehearse what he was going to say.

“What the fuck is this?” Brian asked as soon as he walked around the back end of the Audi and saw what Justin was doing. “Did I miss a memo or something? Are you moving out?”

“Of course not!” Justin replied with a little forced laugh as he tried to think of the best way to broach the subject of their surprise trip.

“Okay . . . Then, am I moving out?” was Brian’s next question when he noticed that one of the bags waiting in the back of the Jeep was his favorite Louis Vuitton Weekender.  

“No. Nobody’s moving out. We’re just going away for the weekend,” Justin bit the bullet and decided to just launch into the full explanation without trying to hide anything. “You see, Daphne’s friend, Kat, broke up with her boyfriend and she’d already paid for this great weekend in Stowe, so she agreed to let me buy it off her for, like, half what she paid. I figured we could use a weekend to ourselves, you know. Just you and me and no crying infant or pesky friends or work or anything. So, I cleared it with Cynthia and you’ve got nothing on your calendar tomorrow, and Daphne is babysitting for the weekend, which means we’re free until Sunday night . . .” Justin knew he was blathering but thought that maybe he’d stun Brian into submission with a deluge of irrelevancies and hopefully, before the big stud knew what hit him, they’d be on the road and halfway to Vermont.

“Yeah, well, think again Marco Polo,” Brian grabbed his bag out of the car before Justin could stop him. “The farthest we’ll be travelling this weekend is to the glorious suburbs of Pittsburgh proper where we’re expected for dinner at the fucking Country Club tonight at seven with Mr. & Mrs. PittSteel.”

“But, Brian, I’ve already got everything arranged and paid for the hotel and . . .”

“And nothing, Sunshine. We’ve got dinner plans that I don’t dare back out of,” Brian turned and walked away without further explanation.

“But, I already cleared your calendar with Cynthia. She said you didn’t have anything planned until Monday,” Justin insisted as he trotted after Brian’s retreating form.

“Apparently, nobody informed my new boss, Gardner Vance, of that fact,” Brian retorted. “Because Vance is under the impression that I’ll be a good little toady who will lick his boots and kiss his ass and not cause any trouble while he graciously gives me a whole fucking week to prove to him that I shouldn’t be fired. So, I get to spend my evening kissing up to some breeder couple and you and Kevan get the pleasure of joining me in this fun-filled evening. And we all better do our best to make them happy so they sign the contract. Then I can present Vance with the biggest fucking client he’s ever seen and I can keep my job so that we can continue to live in the outrageously expensive manner to which we’ve all become accustomed.”

The door to the house slammed shut behind Brian at this point, leaving Justin alone and defeated. He slumped down, perched on the rear bumper of the Jeep. Justin wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or cry or hit something. All he knew was that the last thing Brian needed was more stress. But, from the sound of things, that was precisely what was in store for the foreseeable future.