Authors Note: When I discovered, by a sheer fluke, that Venice, Los Angeles, was founded by non-other than Abbot Kinney, I just could not resist using this location for Justin’s home in L.A.! HOME RUN Chapter 8 Justin: ~~~~~ Back home in Venice, Justin could not get Brian out of his head after learning the news about Mel and Lindz and discovering that Brian had returned to Pittsburgh and his preoccupation had not gone unnoticed by Tim. “Where the fuck has your head been lately?” he kept asking him. And then one morning before work, “What happened when you went home? You met someone didn’t you? Did you fuck him?” Tim had yelled over the breakfast table. “For Chrissakes, Tim. I did not meet anybody, Okay? But if I did, it’s none of your goddamn business who I go with and who I fuck. It’s not like we’re married or anything!” and Tim had picked up his jacket and slammed the door on his way out. Tim was becoming too possessive. Since returning from Pittsburgh, it seemed Justin couldn’t even speak to another guy without being given the third degree. It had got to the stage where Justin preferred to stay at work, rather than go home. When they did connect, the sex was still great; he had to admit that. Tim certainly knew the right buttons to push, but more often, Justin was left with a feeling of dissatisfaction, his mind elsewhere during their lovemaking and he wasn’t sure how long he could continue being with him. But he had to admit; he’d not been particularly easy to live with these passed weeks. He often didn’t hear what Tim was saying, forcing him to repeat himself and when asked what they were going to do when they did have time to spend together, he would just shrug, saying “whatever you want”, without any real conviction. He had genuinely been upset at the news of Mel and Lindsay’s deaths. They had been good friends when he’d needed them and his heart went to out to Gus, losing both his Moms. Then there was Brian. He knew how close he and Lindsay had been. She would often get through to him when no one else could. And would usually come to his defence when others were criticising him, preferring to see a side of him that was hardly ever obvious. A caring, loving side, he managed to keep well hidden most of the time. And Justin couldn’t deny his own feelings reawakened and wondered how differently things might have turned out if only he’d stood his ground, refusing to allow Brian to disown his emotions: allowing Brian to discover the feelings he refused to acknowledge, even though Justin was convinced of their existence. Justin decided he couldn’t just let this go without making some sort of contact. He didn’t think that trying to telephone Brian was a good idea so instead, decided to write to him. ~ O ~ Brian, I guess this must come as a bit of a shock, out of the blue after so long, but I only just found out about Lindsay and Melanie and wanted you to know how sorry I was to hear the news. Lindz and Mel were good to me at a time when I needed friends and I shall treasure those memories always. My heart goes out to you and Gus, but I know that the two of you, together, will get through this. Despite yourself, I always knew how much you loved your son and I know you’ll be a good Father. Gus is lucky to have you. Take good care of yourselves. Justin ~ O ~ He mailed the letter the following day. Brian: ~~~~~ Brian nailed the Benson account, sorted out some queries with Cynthia and was feeling pretty pleased with himself when he got back from New York; a feeling he’d not experienced for a little while. He’d been out of the loop too long; had been happy to let other people step up and take over some of the more demanding roles, leaving him with most of the day-to-day running of his business. Dropping into the Pittsburgh office for a few hours before he had to be home in time for Gus, he picked up his messages on the way to his office. “Morning Sarah”. “Morning Brian. Here are your messages. Did you have a good trip? “Thank you. Yep, Benson’s are ours, so I think there might even be a little bonus for everybody come Christmas”. “Well, that’s good news. Oh, by the way, you had a visitor while you were in New York”. “Mmm, who was it?” “Sorry, he didn’t leave his name, but I got the impression that he was pretty disappointed you weren’t here.” Brian stopped reading through the pieces of paper he’d been handed and looked at the receptionist. “What did he look like?” “Well … he was … I’d say, late 20’s, blond, kind of cute,” she said, smiling. “Well, that narrows the field”. “Sorry, Brian”. “No worries. I guess he’ll come back if he wanted to see me that much” and he climbed the stairs to his office. ‘Late 20’s, blond and cute. No, it can’t be. Justin’s still in Europe with Ethan, isn’t he? Besides, it’s been too many years. He probably doesn’t even think about me anymore, if he ever did’. But Brian couldn’t get the thought of his mystery caller out of his mind. At the end of the week, Brian picked up Gus from school and headed to the market. They were pretty much out of everything and need to restock. A familiar face was sorting through the fruit, looking for the freshest specimens. “Hi Uncle Emmett”. “Well, hello Gus, Brian”. “Hello, Emmett. Another party this weekend?” asked Brian, pointing to the shopping cart already heavily laden with goods. “40thwedding anniversary. God, can you imagine that? Being with the same person for 40 years?” “No, I guess not”, replied Brian. “Dad, can I have some candy please”. “Okay”. “Thanks Dad. “Just a couple mind,” called Brian after him, and Gus shot off, heading for the candy section. “You’ll never guess who I ran into”, said Emmett, coyly, turning over the pineapples to find the best ones. “Who?” asked Brian. “Justin. I ended up catering his sister’s wedding and he flew in from L.A. for it”. “L.A.?” asked Brian. “I thought he and …… he was living in Europe, Paris”. “No, he’s been back ages. Didn’t you know? He and Ethan broke up and Justin moved to California. He was really sorry to hear about Mel and Lindz. He had been hoping to stick around for a few days but he had to get back: Something to do with work”. And he picked up the six best pineapples and put them in the cart. “Well, these will have to do. Best get on, you know what it’s like” and he smiled and said goodbye. Walking away he wondered to himself why it was always him that seemed to pass on news of such monumental importance. Brian was rooted to the spot and didn’t even hear Gus speak to him when he returned with his candy bars. Justin was back in the country and no longer with Ethan. Maybe he had been his mystery visitor after all. It was a few weeks later that the letter arrived. It was addressed to him at the house. He’d picked it up with the rest of the mail on his way in from the office and dumped it on the kitchen table and then forgot all about it as he saw to dinner. Brian had at last managed to find some help that Gus liked. Mrs. Doherty now came in every weekday and cleaned and did the laundry. She also prepared the evening meal and would put it in the oven on timer so that it would finish as Brian came in from work. On the days he couldn’t be in on time, she’d care for Gus until he returned or Gus would occasionally go Debbie’s and Brian would pick him up on his way home. They’d started to see a little more of Debbie just lately. Brian had begun to feel guilty about not letting Gus spend so much time with some of his old friends. After all, Debbie was practically his Grandmother, all the time he’d spent at the Novotny’s as a kid, and she’d offered Brian a safe haven when things had got too bad at home. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe the grief was easing a little. Before, he found it hard to mix with the old gang. There were too many reminders of the old days; time spent in the company of Lindz and Mel. And Justin. He checked the oven. The casserole was just about ready and he sat down to look at the mail as Gus came in. “Hi Dad. Guess what?” said his son, excitedly. “Hi Sonny-Boy. What’s up?” “I got picked for the school soccer team again today. We’ve got a game on Saturday. You will come, won’t you?” “Dad?” “Mmm. Sorry Gus, that’s great news. Sure I’ll be there,” but Brian was really concentrating on the letter he was holding. It had a California postmark and it was in a familiar hand. He put it down and went through the rest of the mail; a couple of bills and statements, but mostly advertising circulars. Most of the mail got trashed. The rest Brian took upstairs to the smallest bedroom, which he’d made into an office. The letter would have to wait until Gus had gone to bed. Brian couldn’t think about it right now. Brian was grateful for Gus’ chatter throughout the meal; talking about school and he was obviously very proud at having been picked for the school soccer team. It meant he didn’t have to join in the conversation other than to nod or smile in the right places. His mind was elsewhere. Gus did his homework and watched a little TV. Approaching bedtime, he’d cleaned up and was now heading for his room, where he was allowed to read for a short while before settling down to sleep. “Night Dad”. “Night Sonny-boy. Lights out in 15 minutes.” “Okay, Dad.” And now Brian decided he couldn’t put off reading the letter any longer. He sat down at the desk in little office, turned on the lamp and picked up the envelope. Part of him wanted to read it and the other part didn’t want to risk opening up old wounds. Seeing Justin walk out of Babylon with Ethan on the night of the Rage party had hurt him more than he would ever admit to anyone. But he hadn’t been able to give Justin what he wanted, at least not back then. He turned the envelope over and opened it with the paperknife. There was a single sheet inside. If he read the letter once, he read it a dozen times. He well remembered how Lindz and Mel had opened up their house, this very house, to Justin when he, Brian, had rejected him. Brian thought back to that time, 10 years ago, when he’d first met him; a scared, cute kid on his first excursion onto Liberty Avenue, the same night that Gus was born. He’d picked him up expecting him to be like any other trick. But this was a one-night stand that wouldn’t go away. Justin kept coming back, seeing through all the bullshit; the façade that Brian chose to wear to keep hurt at bay. He’d crept under the wire and had worn down his defences. But years of abuse by his Father had left Brian emotionally crippled. Being made to feel worthless as a child, Brian had always had this nagging feeling that he was unworthy of being loved and, therefore, unable to love in return. Justin had proved him wrong and though he would never admit it, it scared him. But the constant fear of rejection meant that Brian kept him at arm’s length. If he never let him in, he wouldn’t have to let him go. But when it happened: when Ethan came along and was able to give Justin everything that Brian couldn’t; the romantic trysts, picnics, sentimental gestures and the words that he’d been so longing to hear: despite everything he told himself, the pain of watching him go was almost unbearable. And now, reading his letter, he could almost hear him say the words, and the sadness in Brian’s heart for a love he’d thrown away made him realise just exactly how much he’d lost. For what did he have now? He had a prospering business, which he hoped would give him the security he never had as a child, growing up in an abusive household, where money normally went on booze and bowling. A business that had taken up each moment of every day to get off the ground, leaving little or no time for any kind of relationship: fleeting or otherwise. He had a son he was only now getting to know. He’d relinquished his parental rights and had become a spectator in his son’s life. Partly to encourage Lindsay and Melanie to solve their differences and re-affirm their love for one another, but also because he feared he may have inherited some of Jack’s traits and he didn’t want to foul-up like his own Father had done. But whereas Jack often told his young son that he should never have been born, and that he’d actually wanted him aborted, Brian loved his son and though he had declined to take more of an active interest in his upbringing, he’d always been there with the practical help, never denying Lindsay the funds necessary to bring up his child. But what of his own needs? He could hardly believe it. He couldn’t actually remember when he last got laid. Release more often being found under the hot water in the shower or in bed: alone. Where had the Stud of Liberty Avenue disappeared to? He’d gained a son, but in many ways, he was now more alone and, more significantly, more lonely than he had ever been before. To be continued.