Homecoming

*38*

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Miracles and Mariners


Brian

We finally get away from the diner and get out to the house just as Stephane's fucking Porsche is pulling up.

I introduce him to Justin and to Gus, and we go in.

I'm a little shocked by how weird the place feels now that it's empty; which is fucking ridiculous. I mean, I knew the old fossil had packed all his shit and either shipped it, or had it taken to an auction house. So of course it's fucking empty, but …

It's still kind of unsettling. I move so I'm a little closer to Justin. If I'm feeling a little spooked, he's probably feeling worse.

Anyway, Stephane has already been all over the plans I emailed to him and he's confident that we can create an opening between the kitchen and the front room on that side of the house. He advises us to leave a little of the upper and side walls – like an extended arch - but says that the wall isn't a load-bearing one and in any case the whole structure has been reinforced with steel girders so opening it up isn't going to cause any structural problems.

He also says that – for the right fucking price, of course - he can find a paint crew and electricians to come in today and tomorrow and do whatever painting and rewiring we want done. Dan had the whole place re-wired just a couple of years ago, so it's all up to code, but we need extra power points in some rooms and a change to the lighting in what used to be the dining room, and is now going to be our fucking media or entertainment room or whatever; the place where we can relax and watch a fucking movie if we feel like it.

Justin and I have discussed all this and he's drawn up a plan of what colors he wants where and where he wants the new power points to go, so we don't have to waste time on that shit.

Justin insists that, as well as the media room and our bedrooms, we get the other front room painted now. The one he wants me to use for my office. I don't really need a fucking office, but I guess it will give me a bolt hole when domesticity gets too fucking much for me.

The resident artiste insists that because of the way the light comes through those green glass bricks the main color in this front part of the ground floor just has to be green. I guess he should fucking know. Color's his thing, after all.

For the study, I wanted to keep it just monochrome – there's no green glass affecting the light in there, but he wants one wall to be a deep kind of mossy green. He says it will help concentration and will go well with the kind of sleek furniture I like. I bow to his judgment.

Anyway the important thing is that thanks to Stephane's contacts we can get all of the painting and shit done by tomorrow night. So we can pretty much move in on Sunday.

Halle-fucking-lujah.

It's going to cost a shitload – getting tradesmen to work long hours and on the weekend is expensive, but who gives a fuck about that?

We leave Stephane to work up a quote for the major renovation work – although it's pretty much a done fucking deal anyway – and get out of there.

We have to get to Gus' fucking school and play nice with the Principal, and then head over to Marty's place.

Justin's going to have a shit-fit when he finds out who will be helping us get the place furnished in two days.

 

*****
 

Justin

I'm so excited, and so is Gus.

The architect Brian has arranged to meet us ("Stephane" which I thought was really pretentious until he started talking and I realized he's French – or French Canadian - with the greatest accent) is going to make up a quote for us, but really, we all know that he's going to be doing the work. He's just about as excited about it as I am. Seems like this house is almost kind of famous – at least among people who've actually been here - because of Billy's window. I guess we're lucky it hasn't been listed or something so we can still do what we want to it.

Anyway, Stephane and I stood out in the back room under the windows and talked about them for a few minutes before Brian got totally antsy so we had to get back to concentrating on the huge amount of work that needs to be done.

Brian and I talked the other night about what we wanted done, and I drew up kind of a layout of how I thought things should work – where the power points have to go and stuff - that the control freak of the family actually seemed happy with; so it's easy to explain to Stephane exactly what we want.

We talked about colors too.

Dan and Billy had kept all the downstairs walls just kind of off white; which Brian would probably like, but I think is kind of boring. But when I started to think about it I realized that the light seeping into the front part of house through all those green glass bricks means that you have to be really careful what colors you use, because they're going to be changed by that greeny tinge –reds would probably go brown, that kind of thing. But I figured if we went with the green thing it would be good for the living areas anyway – brightish greens for the kitchen, and even to some extent the dining room because they're energizing, soft calm greens for the TV room; and I picked a lovely dark smoky green for a feature wall in Brian's office. That shade will be calming as well, and should help concentration. Besides it will really show off his chrome desk and stuff.

Upstairs – well, Gus's room will start off being a kind of muted buttercup yellow. It's a good color for a child; but I want to paint a mural or something for him, so we'll keep the color to half-strength. And I thought maybe bright blue curtains and duvet; and a softer shade of blue for the sheets, so they'll be kind of calming as well.

The real shock was our room. I was sure that Brian would want it to be all monochrome like the loft, but when we were going through the color charts, he found this deep burgundy color that he really liked, so the end wall, the one opposite the clear glass wall, is going to be that color. Everything else will probably be neutrals, but when we get some time I'll look for some cushions or something – bright blue, maybe, or even silver, just to give some accents. It will be great, because when you look through our glass wall out to the stained glass window, we'll kind of have some of those colors coming right into our room. The deep glowing burgundy of the wall will kind of balance the deep colors of the window and then the highlights will pick up some of the lighter colors as well. It will almost make our room like an extension of the window.

The doors and the skirting boards things these old houses have are natural wood – a beautiful dark wood glowing with just a hint of red. It would almost be criminal to paint them, so despite Brian's moaning about it a little we're leaving those as they are. We can always have them done later if he really hates it. Fortunately, there's no carpet in the place, just these beautiful old polished boards, so we don't have to go through stripping out dusty old carpet and then trying to get the boards polished and all that stuff.

Anyway, Stephane has taken notes from the color charts I gave him, and he's going to organize some painters to come in today. He says they can do the prep and one coat today, then a second coat tomorrow and it will be dry by Sunday morning.

So now I guess we just have to find a bed for us, and for Gus and a couple of other things and we can move in. We can get all the rest of the stuff later, after the renovations to the kitchen and new dining room have been done. We'll be living on takeout till that's finished, and probably with some dust and paint fumes as well, but at least we'll be in the house, and we'll have Gus with us … and it will be totally not like anything I ever dreamed of doing with Brian, so fuck knows how we're going to make it work. But we'll find a way; we have to, for Gus's sake.

But first we have to get Gus formally enrolled at his school, and make sure that they know who his legal guardians are and that no one else should be picking him up, or even trying to contact him. And that we need to know if anyone tries.

 

*****
 

Brian

We manage to get through the meeting with Gus' Principal without me wanting to puke or throw her through the window, so I guess it wasn't too fucking bad.

While Gus was taken off to meet his new teacher and see his classroom, we went though at least the basics of our fucked up situation with Ms. Principal and she hardly blinked. Guess these days custody wars are pretty much the norm; and with the number of hetero-wannabe gay "couples" around, she's probably dealt with a few lavender colored ones as well. She certainly didn't seem fucking fazed by any of it. She asked for copies of the court rulings so they could put them on file in case Lindsay (or even worse the fucking she wolf) turns up and tries to bullshit her way into seeing Gus. Ms Herschell had warned me that the school was likely to ask for them, so Justin printed them off this morning and we had them ready.

That seemed to win us Brownie points for a start.

We sign all the forms and shit and agree that we'll try to make time to do some parent-involvement stuff – fuck knows how, but I guess I can always send Theodore. And of course we can hand over the check for the fees and for all the little extras that the fees don't cover; so she's got all the money upfront right away. That makes her happy as well.

Then she focuses on Justin and it turns out she's an art fan and had actually seen Justin's stuff at the show at the Bloom Gallery, and read the Art Forum article so she was all over him about what he was doing next and all that shit. He didn't mention New York, but he did tell her about the Warhol thing and she said she'll look forward to it. Yada yada.

We hear Gus's voice as he's coming back down the corridor telling his teacher about how he has a Daddy and a Dus and that he lives with them now and he sounds so fucking happy about it that …

Fuck!

I get de-railed from any pointless introspective bullshit, wondering about how the fuck I've managed to get to this point where I'm sitting here with my partner playing nice with a primary school principal while waiting for my son, by the sound of my partner's voice.

"Brian and I need to be sure that Gus won't face any … difficulties … because of his parents' sexual orientation."

Trust Sunshine to lay it on the line with no bullshit.

To her credit Ms Principal doesn't bat an eyelash. In fact, she sits up in her chair and for one scary moment she actually reminds me of my dragon of a lawyer.

"We have very strict policies about bullying of any kind, Mr. Taylor," she says firmly. "We expect all our students to exhibit respect and tolerance towards each other. And we expect the same of their parents. When you and Mr. Kinney have a chance to read the material I've given you, you'll see that our board of governors has laid down stringent guidelines about what is considered unacceptable behavior, and that any breach of these – by students or parents – could result in the child in question being suspended or even expelled.

"We had a situation just last year with a young Muslim girl. One of the children had a parent who lost someone on 9/11, and who seemed to want to take out their grief and anger on every available target. They took to harassing the child and her mother at the school gates, telling her that she wasn't welcome at this school with "decent folk". We made it quite clear that not only was their behavior not acceptable, neither was their attitude, and that since their children couldn't help but be affected by that attitude, we believed they'd be happier finding a different school.

"Believe me when I tell you most sincerely that I would have no hesitation at all in taking the same stance with anyone who causes any difficulties at all for young Gus over his parents' sexuality."

And fuck me if I don't believe her.

 

*****
 

Justin

I think Brian might actually have liked Gus' school principal. He didn't make one single snarky comment; not even when she was assuring us of how strong their stance is against bullying. Of course, I know that just saying all the right words doesn't mean that the school will actually go out of its way to protect Gus from any bullshit about his parents, but she seemed sincere, so we'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway, that's done now so after lunch we can get on to the furniture place Brian has … honestly can you believe it? … made an appointment with.

For once we don't go to the diner, we get something to eat in a nice little place on 5th Avenue. I'm wondering how Gus is going to hold up … I know what Brian's like when he's shopping … when my cell rings. It's Dan. He's on the ship; it sails tonight at 6. He just wants to say goodbye and to ask me to pass on his thanks to Brian for all his help with getting everything organized. I take the phone outside so I can fill him in on everything that's been happening. Well, not everything. But I do tell him that there's been dramas with the munchers and that Gus will be staying with us for a while, so we're going to be moving into the house right away.

He seems really pleased to hear that.

I was going to tell him about the work we're having done, but then I think that maybe that will upset him. So I just say that we're having Gus's room painted.

He gives a funny little huff, almost like Brian when he's kind of onto me … hearing the things I'm not saying. And then he says, "Well, you'll be wanting to make some changes, of course. If you're thinking of having any major renovations done, remember that I left all the plans and technical specs for the house with the other papers."

He hesitates a moment and then goes on, "Justin, I truly want you and Brian to feel at home in your new house. I have been ready to let it go and move on for a long time now."

His voice sounds a little husky for a moment, and I have to strain to hear the next bit. "I have just been waiting for you to come and claim it."

But then it gets stronger and he says, "It's important now that you do claim it; that you make it your own."

I realize then that telling him about the changes won't upset him, it will kind of reassure him. So I say, "Well, we are looking at doing a few things. We thought we'd open out the front room from the kitchen – make that into a combined kitchen and dining area. And we're putting a door through from the little bedroom at the front into the bathroom for Gus."

There's a kind of whispery sound that I recognize as his laugh and he says, "Billy was always on at me to have the kitchen opened up. He hated having to disappear across the hall when we were having a dinner party; said he felt like he was missing half the fun. But when we did the major work on the house he was still thinking of using that front room as a work room, and later we just never seemed to get around to it."

I can exactly imagine the little smile and the soft, remembering look on his face when he goes on, "He would be delighted to know it's finally going to happen."

We talk a little bit more, and then he says that he has to go.

I thank him for calling and promise that I will call him as soon as we've moved in, and that I'll email him some photos of all the rooms as we paint and renovate them.

I feel kind of sad when I hit 'end call'. But really happy too. I'm so glad that he called. I'd kind of thought that once he left that we'd never hear from him again and it's really great to know that he's still kind of around. I feel like even though we hardly got to spend any time with him, he's still somehow become part of our family.

 

*****
 

Brian

He's almost bouncing when he comes back into the restaurant.

"That was Dan," he says. "He just wanted to say goodbye and to than …"

"Yeah, yeah," I say. Fuck the whole 'thanks' thing. I didn't do anything except pass on a couple of instructions. Ted and the dragon PA from Hell that they found from somewhere to take on the apparently terrifying task of answering my phone and organizing a few fucking meetings did the rest. I admit that I pay her salary, but I'd be paying that anyway, she might as well fucking earn it.

He inhales the rest of his lunch and then we head out to meet up with Marty. He's got an "office" just off Liberty Avenue. It's more like some set director's idea of a French queen's boudoir, all spindly gilt tables and ormolu clocks, with a totally incongruous projection system set up that's connected to his laptop.

It's so god-damned fucking kitsch it makes my teeth ache.

But I've used Marty a few times when we've needed to create 'rooms' or looks for shoots and he's a fucking genius at understanding what you want and knowing just where to get it. Like everything else, his services come at a price, but if he can cut through the bullshit of spending weeks looking for the key items of furniture we need to make the place at least livable, it will be worth every pink cent we're pouring into his pocket.

I might think he's a complete twat when it comes to all the other bullshit he spouts, but when it comes to sourcing furniture and furnishings he fucking knows his shit, so who cares?

I see my own little twat giving him some really funny looks when we sit down and then all of a sudden the penny doesn't so much drop as goes hurtling over the cliff.

"You're Mysterious Marilyn!" he squawks – swear to God, fucking squawks - sounds like one of those fake duck calls hunters use.

Marty smirks and fucking preens a little.

"Well, yes, sugar, sometimes I am. But right now I'm the one who's going to find just what you need to help you get settled into this fabulous new house of yours."

He flips open a laptop and projects some of the photos of the house that we took the other day up onto the wall.

Then he starts bringing up other images – beds first. See what I mean? The man understands priorities.

"Now, I thought you'd probably like something very sleek, very stream-lined for the master bedroom. What do you think of these?"

 

*****
 

Justin

I can't believe that Brian is using Mysterious Marilyn as his whatever the fuck furniture consultant.

But he, she, whatever, definitely seems to know what he's doing. He seems to understand exactly what Brian would like, but at the same time he manages to find stuff that appeals to me as well.

Like with the bed. He starts bringing up these images, and at first I think he's just going for the same kind of look that Brian had at the loft – really simple platform beds. But these are a little different. They all seem to have … I don't know … more personality, or at least more warmth, than the loft furniture. I have to admit that I like them too.

We start looking at individual pieces in more detail and amazingly, we hit jackpot after just a couple of shots. The bed itself is really simple, but it has a nice padded leather head piece and side tables in a dark reddish wood that's really like the doors and stuff in the house. Marty takes some notes, and refers to some other file and then says, "Yes, I know where I can find that in stock, and, for a fee of course, they should be able to deliver and install the bed on Sunday. I'll confirm that with them before you leave. Of course, it's one item of furniture that you will probably want to try out first, but the wholesalers I use have a storefront just on the northside. It'll only take you a few minutes to get there once we're done here."

And so it goes on.

In not much over an hour, he's found, and arranged to get delivered, the furniture for our room, and for Gus's room; two small sofas and a wet bar and mini fridge for the entertainment room; and an amazing pair of recliners with a matching sofa for the main room; plus a pair of end tables to go out there.

We'll need to get more stuff eventually; something to house the entertainment unit for a start - although we'll probably have that custom made. And we'll be putting in some kick-ass speakers and stuff. But we can use what we've got for now and this afternoon's effort means we'll have everything we need to be comfortable when we move in on Sunday.

He even shows us some beautiful bedding that will be perfect for our room. It's just like I pictured it – dark sheets and duvet with pillows and cushions in shades that are lighter, but incredibly vivid – just like Billy's window. And a blue set for Gus's room. It's almost like Marty or Marilyn or whatever knew exactly what I'd been thinking.

Even as that thought crosses my mind I happen to look up and he's giving me a funny knowing little smile.

It's kind of weird and a bit creepy.

But who gives a fuck?

Brian's happy with the look of the bedding and since they're top of the range kazillion thread count Egyptian cotton, his label queen requirements are satisfied so he tells Marty to order them as well and now we're out of here and off to try out what will hopefully be our new bed.

I can't believe it. I thought we'd be here all afternoon and still arguing about stuff by breakfast tomorrow.

Maybe Mysterious Marilyn really is some kind of psychic miracle worker.

 

*****
 

Brian

We try out the bed – which seems comfortable and more importantly seems like it's strong enough to hold up under the considerable demands we will be placing upon it. (I'm already picturing little Sunshine spread out on those dark sheets – all golden-pale and glowing.) Then we test Gus's bed which is also okay, and which he seems to love. But it's all taken a while and by the time we finish Sonnyboy is getting fairly cranky.

I know how he fucking feels.

But I also know that if he has a nap now, we'll have trouble getting him to sleep tonight.

So instead, I take out my cell and make a call, confirming the tentative arrangements I'd made for this afternoon.

Justin looks at me like I've lost my mind when I pull up outside this fucking boating supply place. But then he gets it and the full wattage Sunshine smile breaks out. We go in and get kitted out with the best fucking safety vests they've got and I make arrangements for one of the guys to meet us back at the house.

He's going to come out with us in the boat and give me some instructions on the basics. He's also recommended that both Justin and I do some fucking basic boating certificate. Technically, we probably don't have to, I think the motor's just under the horsepower that would make it a legal requirement. If it were just me I'd shrug off all that shit. But it's not. I have Gus to think about – and Sunshine too. I'm not going to lose either of them to some dumb fucking boating accident that happens because I had my head too far up my fucking ass to learn the basics about how to keep them safe on the water. But the certificate can wait. For now, we've got someone who does know what they're doing taking us for our first spin in our boat.

Of course we have to fucking stop on the way to the house to stock up on food in case the little twat and his apprentice starve in the hour or so that we'll be on the river.

But once we maneuver through the house, dodging the fucking army of highly paid worker ants that are swarming all over the damned place, and then dodge the other army working on the fence at the bottom of the garden and finally get down to the water, both my sonnyboys are almost giddy with excitement.

I have to become the heavy father with Gus to get him to take me seriously when I tell him he has to sit still and quiet in the boat or we will come right back to shore. But he gets it; and he behaves. Justin sits next to him with one arm wrapped round him tightly and Gus sits there with one hand on the edge of the boat and the other on Justin's knee and while I get my lesson in steering and controlling the boat I can see them both just alight with joy. They're sitting towards the prow of the boat, and the wind is catching their hair a little and both their faces are absorbed and glowing and it's like they're fucking flying.

If I live to a fucking hundred and eighty (God forbid, unless they find a way to keep me looking hot and something better than fucking Viagra to make sure I can still get it up) I will never forget this moment.

And it makes me want to scream 'fuck you' to all the fuckers who think I'm a dead loss as a human being.

Because I gave my sonnyboys this.

I did.
 

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