Friends and Family 6

Chapter 6

  The insanity at home had finally settled to its usual level of controlled chaos. Mike had spent two days following Tilden around, crouched at his feet like a puppy just removed from the litter. Mike had seemed OK with it, even happy with the new status quo. He’d been languid across Tilden’s lap, basking in the petting. Sheldon shook himself at the visual of Mike kneeling his head on Tilden’s lap and Tilden fingering his boy’s hair. To each his own. Milton had been clear this strange behavior had been at Mike’s request, and when Milton had caught Sheldon staring, he’d had the nerve to ask Sheldon if he wanted to try it. Sheldon shuddered at the thought and nearly bumped the newspaper out of the hand of the severe looking businessman sitting next to him.

“Sorry,” Sheldon muttered, pretending to turn back to his pocket video game. Milton had made some noise about confiscating the game this morning when Sheldon had been driving Joel crazy, but Sheldon knew that Milton didn’t want to inflict a bored Sheldon on the commuting public. Not that Sheldon was bored this morning; he had a lot to think about. They’d put Joel on the earlier train to Indiana; now that sounded boring. The kid had described his home town as a gas station, a stoplight, a grain elevator, and kilometers of corn fields in all directions. Joel had seemed happy enough to go. He still flinched every time a top walked in the room. To be honest, he flinched when anyone walked in a room.. Maybe it was growing up with all those empty cornfields. Joel hadn’t talked much; Milton had managed to get two or three syllables strung together by talking about grain futures and crop rotation, and the kid’s face had lit up when Milton had given Joel back his final exam in history. He was cute when he wasn’t fading into the woodwork, and he’d been adorable this morning on the train platform when they’d given him the Christmas gifts from all the guys. Mace and Trent had baked him a farmer Bob gingerbread man with piped blue overalls, baseball cap, and an ear of corn in the chubby gingerbread hand. Sheldon, along with Mike and Luke, gave Joel a Banner College sweatshirt, and Milton and Tilden gave him a card. Sheldon wasn’t privy to what was in the card, but Milton had casually called it an insurance policy. Milton had arranged for Joel to move into a suite with a couple rough and tough hockey players whom Sheldon gathered were a couple. Sheldon suspected the card promised a free berth if the new housing arrangement didn’t work out, and Sheldon wouldn’t mind. The kid was no trouble, practically invisible except at meal times. After opening the card, Joel had smiled shyly at Milton, who’d given the kid a brisk squeeze on the shoulder and a warm smile in return. That was the most Sheldon had seen Milton touch Joel. Both Milton and Tilden had been scrupulously professional with the kid.

Sheldon watched the cars zipping by on the road beside the train. According to the garbled announcement, they were pulling into the halfway point station. From here the train would get crowded. Sheldon pulled his briefcase onto his knees, prepared to stand if he needed to give up his seat. Fortunately he was able to keep his seat as the train swayed out of the station. It was still the regular commuters; the holiday traffic wouldn’t be bad until next week when everyone would decide they needed a shopping trip to the heart of Boston. A blond guy, maybe a few years older than Luke but with the same soft curls, folded his paper into an impossibly small square. The guy was too young to be wed to archaic technology. Sheldon couldn’t imagine Luke folding a paper into a fussy little square. He couldn’t imagine Luke with a financial paper of any sort, especially now that the holidays had started.

Tilden and his two boys had left for Florida yesterday. They were the unwilling contestants in the network’s scavenger hunt. Sheldon had tried to dig up Tilden’s fellow contestant and the goals for the event, but they were being kept hidden from him. His immediate boss had laughed, shaken his head, and wagged his finger at Sheldon. “You’re a devil, but your friends are already wildly popular. They don’t need any help from you.”

Sheldon had laughed also, but he wished he could have found out. He’d watched all the outtakes from the show, and he knew that several of the brats and tops would threaten Tilden’s legendary equanimity. Tilden had managed them during the outing in Vermont, but his boys had never been under the authority of another top. Sheldon had seen enough of the preparations to know that there were plans to separate Tilden from his brats. Maybe they’d send them off with Brad. He’d seemed like an OK guy, a little shellshocked but OK. Mike would walk all over Brad, but besides the strange kneeling thing, Mike could be self sufficient, and Luke would tag along with his fellow brat’s fool plans. 

They were going to visit with Milton’s granddad for a couple days before they returned to West Banner. Milton’s granddad would keep everyone on the straight and narrow. At least they were lucky he’d retired to the beach instead of still having all those cows. Sheldon had always thought cows were pretty, spotted creatures grazing in green fields until he’d spent the summer in Vermont. Cows were filthy, horrid creatures that delighted in hitting people with their shit filled tails, and Milton’s granddad was a cranky old man who delighted in making brats shovel shit. He’d keep Tilden’s boys in line. Sheldon grinned to himself. Actually that wasn’t quite a fair representation of Milton’s granddad. He was tougher on his own grandson, and it hadn’t been all work. They’d  fished in the small pond and traipsed all over the hillside with binoculars and a bird book. Sheldon had heard that Florida had great birding.

The train rumbled to a stop at the final station, and Sheldon joined the crowds surging for the platform and the transfer to the local routes. As always the trains were jammed. Sheldon stood trapped between a soggy topcoat and a pair of spiked high heels. He pushed out at his stop and started a long day at work. This time of year, more time was spent clustered around the coffee pot discussing holiday plans than actual work, but he still had to show up and make nice to the boss.

“Mr. Zath, there’s a young gentleman downstairs, who claims he’s your brother. He’s adamant about seeing you.” The security guard sounded harassed on the phone. 

Sheldon had three brothers, two a few years older than he and a far younger brother, the accident of the family. Sheldon couldn’t imagine either Ryan or Brandon showing up at his place of work unannounced or driving the security guard to such desperation that his voice sounded frantic on the phone. It had to be Blade: irresistibly cute with freckles and carrot colored hair, mercurial, and both a chick and trouble magnet. Blade was in his first year of college down in Georgia, and they hadn’t talked since this summer. Maybe he wanted to crash for a few days before returning to their parents. Blade had a love-hate relationship with Mom and Dad. They spoiled the only child left in the house or at least Sheldon thought they did, but Blade and Dad also engaged in ear splitting shouting matches over Blade’s more wild side.

“Can you send him up?” Sheldon said into the phone.

“I’d prefer you’d come get him. He’s slightly agitated.” The security guarded sounded like he was trying to pick neutral language.

“I’ll be right down.” Sheldon grabbed his coat and his wallet. If his brother was in rare form, he might need to get him out of the building before they got thrown out. After last year’s debacle when a group of college students had staged a protest in the newsroom for twenty-four hours, security was on the muscle.

Blade was arguing with security when Sheldon exited the elevator, leaning over the desk and waving his driver’s license at the guard. “I’m Sheldon’s brother. Can’t you read, or do only the illiterate apply for this job?”

“Blade,” Sheldon called, striding into the hallway. He tried to put the sound of authority in his voice. It wasn’t a role he played often, but he’d been on the receiving end of it enough times that he could fake it for a few short sentences. “I’m here. Let’s go get some coffee and talk. Sheldon grabbed his brother by the elbow and steered him toward the door, giving the guard and apologetic smile. He’d have to try to remember to bring the man some of Mace’s Christmas cookies tomorrow.

“Come on, man. You didn’t have to drag me out of there like a misbehaving toddler.” Blade wrenched his arm out of Sheldon’s grasp. 

“That’s the way you were acting. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Sheldon.” Blade flung his arms around Sheldon’s neck. “I’m in so much trouble.”

“Whoa! Let’s try not to look like we’re making out on a public street.” Sheldon gave his brother a quick hug and tried to unwind the arms entwined around him. His hand brushed against Blade’s cheek, and he felt the wet tears. “It can’t be all that bad. You didn’t rob a bank or assassinate your congressman?”

“It’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t implying it was.” Sheldon draped his arm around his brother’s shoulder and steered him towards the coffee shop across the street. “I’ve done the failing out of school routine --spectacularly, in fact. Dad will shout, and Mom will wring her hands, but as far as college disasters go, I’ve already broken them in.” Sheldon gave his brother a wry grin.

“It’s worse than that. I got a girl pregnant,” Blade blurted out as if it were easier to get it out quickly, like pulling tape off the skin.

“You could’ve at least let me sit down before telling me you’re going to be a father at eighteen,” Sheldon tried to joke as he wrapped his head around the image of Blade bouncing a baby on his knee. He tightened his grip on his brother and pulled him across the road in a near run. Did his brother want a child? His voice hadn’t sounded celebratory. Why in the fuck hadn’t he used a condom? It wasn’t like they were hard to come by on a college campus.

Blade tried to slow their momentum as Sheldon pulled the door open to the coffee shop. “She’s in here.”

“Good. You’re going to go sit with her and make nice while I get a cup of coffee and try to recover from the fact you just told me my baby brother’s going to be a daddy. Have you eaten?” Sheldon asked, softening his voice at the sight of fresh tears filling his brother’s eyes.

“No.”

“I’ll get something for you and the girl. What’s her name?”

“Mary, Mary Sheffield. She’s from Texas.”

“Oh, this gets better by the minute.” Sheldon couldn’t keep himself from rolling his eyes. He hoped her parents were secret progressives, trying to rehabilitate the wayward nation, not some crazed Bible thumpers. He probably couldn’t get that lucky. “Go sit down.” Sheldon watched his brother wind past several empty tables to a far corner where a dark haired girl sat half hidden behind a book. She hardly looked up when Blade sat down, and he slumped in his chair, ignoring her. They look cozy, Sheldon thought. This should be fun.

Sheldon made his way to the counter and ordered the strongest expresso he could for himself —he was going to need some fortification—and a pot of herbal tea and two tired looking turkey sandwiches for Blade and Mary. They probably hated tea, but Sheldon thought he’d heard that pregnant women weren’t supposed to drink caffeine.

“Here you go,” Sheldon said, setting the tray on the small table. “I’m Sheldon, Blade’s older brother.

“Hello,” Mary said, darting a glance at Sheldon before dropping her eyes back to her book.

“Blade, could you get me a chair, or am I supposed to stand the whole time?”

Blade flushed, the curse of red hair, and scrambled to his feet. “Sorry”

“I’ll take yours.” Sheldon sat down and gave Mary his most friendly grin. The coffee shop wasn’t full but many of the tables were missing chairs as three or four people crowded around a table meant for two. Blade had to snake his way to the other side of the room to secure a chair. “Hey, you don’t have to look at me like I’m going to bite you. I leave that to my husband.” Sheldon doubted his brother had fully informed Mary of Sheldon’s lifestyle, but there was no use hiding it. Their household was crazy enough without the preconceived nonsense that was stuffed down children’s throats in Texas. 

“You’re gay?” she said softly, clutching her book tighter.

“I should hope so since my partner’s the same sex. My brother says you’re pregnant. Do your parents know?”

She dropped her eyes to the table and hunched her shoulders. One hand went up and started twirling her long black hair between her fingers. “I told them two days ago. They disowned me.” Her voice was flat as if all the emotion had already been wrung out of her.

“You want to keep the baby?” It was only half a question. She’d already faced the wrath of her parents. If she’d planned to abort, why even tell her parents?

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, and she seemed primed to fight.

“Does Blade support this decision?”

“He said it was my decision. He understands.”

At least he understands something, Sheldon thought. He’d been mighty clueless about the making of babies. Did he still think they came by stork?

Blade came back with a chair, dropped down into it, picked up a sandwich, and started stuffing it into his face.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t remember.”

“When you found out she was pregnant?”

“I think so.” Blade took another big bite of the sandwich.

“When did you find out?”

“Monday.”

It was now Thursday. If they’d come by train, they’d left Wednesday night. Mary must have told her parents Monday.

“I suspected it earlier,” Mary said, picking at the crusts of her bread. “I missed my period, and I’m usually like clockwork. When I started vomiting in the morning, I went to the doctor.”

“We only did it once,” Blade muttered and picked up the decorative pickle from the side of the plate.

“It only takes once,” Sheldon said dryly, but refrained from giving his brother a safe sex lecture. The damage was already done.

“I don’t think I even like girls.  At least not the way I like guys.”

You liked them well enough until you found out about the baby thing, Sheldon thought but didn’t say. Great. This wasn’t going to be some pretty fairy tale ending where they went off and made a nice snug house and watched beautiful sunsets while sharing the dirty dishes. Watching their body language, Sheldon wondered if the two even liked each other. Neither one of them had looked at one another, and they most definitely hadn’t touched each other.

“Why are you here?” Sheldon asked, taking another swallow of coffee.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Blade ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s OK. Have you told Mom and Dad?”

Blade gave Sheldon a look that clearly said, are you crazy?

“Do you want me to?” Sheldon offered.

“Um—I thought Milton could. He’s always so calm.”

Sheldon smiled and winked at Mary. “Blade here has seen my partner extricate me out of trouble.”

“Well, he’s good at it.”

“There’s a price to pay for his calm,” Sheldon said with a wry grin. “Make sure you’re willing to pay it.”

“You mean he’s going to take me outside and yell at me or something?”

“He’s not much of a shouter. It’s the ‘or something’ you’ll have to worry about, and this is big. You have responsibilities here, and he will insist that you live up to them.”

“I know,” Blade said, looking at Mary with either a trace of tenderness or sympathy. “I screwed up her life also.”

“Yeah, it took you to make a baby. I don’t think it was the miracle of a virgin birth.”

“It wasn’t.” Blade blushed.

Mary had sat quietly through the conversation, playing with her food. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. She blinked hard, fighting tears.

Sheldon reached across the table and clasped her hand in his. “It will be all right. My husband’s good at crisis. He’ll figure something out.”

She gave Sheldon a weak smile. Her eyes shiny with tears. She was probably appealing in a shy, withdrawing virgin kind of way, if you liked girls, with her black hair, fair skin and blue eyes. She had a pretty face, now blotched from earlier bouts of crying  and darkened with worry and lack of sleep. How had she ended up in bed with Blade? From the little Sheldon knew of his baby brother’s life, he’d never lacked for girlfriends or boyfriends, and Sheldon suspected he was vastly more worldly and confident than Mary. Milton would make Blade spill his guts, at least if past history was any guide. Milton had never saved Sheldon’s bacon without ferreting out every gruesome detail and then blazing a burning trail across his ass. 

“We can catch the next train home if we hurry. I’ll call Milton and have him pick us up at the station.” Sheldon looked over at Mary; she’d paled even further and had turned away from Sheldon and was staring at the wall. “I’m not leaving you here. You’re coming with me until we can sort this out.”

“I can’t,” Mary protested. “I can’t invade your family.” Her voice quavered.

“You are family now,” Sheldon said. “Milton has strong feeling about family, and he’d be appalled if I left you here—a foreign national abandoned in Boston. And hey, the house is full of gay guys. You couldn’t find a safer refuge.”

Mary continued to shake her head and with trembling fingers shoved her book in her backpack. “I can’t impose.”

“You don’t have a better option, do you?” Sheldon smiled at her. Two twitchy Zaths—no wonder she wanted to flee. “It won’t be bad. Milton, Mace, and Trent are calm, unlike Blade and me, and we have plenty of room. You’ll never notice we’re there.”

Mary looked skeptical, but she stood up and followed them back across the street to the television station. Sheldon parked them in the lobby with strict orders to wait while he went upstairs for his satchel. He took the stairs two at a time, dialing his cell phone as he climbed.

“Milton, it’s me, Sheldon. Can you pick me up early?”

“Yes, is something wrong?”

Why did he have to have a nose like a bloodhound? He didn’t want to lie; Sheldon knew that would end badly. “Can I tell you when I get there? It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You haven’t been sent home early?”

“Why do you think I’m always in trouble?”

“Experience, my boy.”

“Really, it’s not me this time,” Sheldon said, trying to sound outraged. “Please just meet us, and I’ll let them explain.”

“Us?” Sheldon knew that Milton’s eyebrows must be rising into his hairline.

“Blade and his ex-girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend. This is sounding worse by the minute. I’ll meet you.” Milton’s voice changed to a parody of an overworked, long suffering top.

Sheldon smiled. “Thanks. We’ll catch the express. We should be home in fifty minutes.”

“I can’t wait, darling.” Milton laughed and hung up.

As promised, Milton stood on the platform and waved to Sheldon as they stepped off the train.  “I’m here. This must be the surprise, he said looking at Mary. Hi, Blade, and who is your friend? I’m Milton Brown, Blade’s brother-in-law.”

“This is Mary Sheffield,” Blade mumbled, tongue tied in front of Milton.

Milton smiled that soft, warm smile that always melted Sheldon. It was the smile that meant he was going to be especially kind. He stooped down and kissed Blade’s forehead and Mary’s check before swinging both their backpacks over his shoulder. “Do you have any other luggage?”

“No,” Sheldon answered for them. “It was a spontaneous trip.”

“I see.” 

Blade looked back at Sheldon, uncertainty on his face.

“I told you his help would require full disclosure,” Sheldon whispered.

Much to Sheldon’s relief, Milton didn’t ask any questions until he had them safely tucked around the kitchen table with cups of tea. Even with Tilden gone for the next week, someone had kept water in the samovar, Trent or Mace no doubt. 

“Blade,” Milton said when no one began offering information. “I think you need to tell me why you showed up in Boston unannounced. Not that we aren’t happy to have you.”

Blade’s eyes darted between Milton and Sheldon, but it was Mary who finally answered. “He came for me. I’m pregnant. He said you could help. I don’t know why he thought you could help. No one can help.” Mary broke down into sobs, hiding her face in her hands.  

Blade sat frozen at the table. It was Milton who reached across the table and placed his large hand on Mary’s half buried head, not saying anything, just waiting. It seemed like eternities, but it was only a few minutes before Mary looked up, her eyes still streaming and her face now red from both the tears and embarrassment.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall and to the right,” Milton said, standing and giving her a hand up. “I’ve seen plenty of tears. There’s no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. I think everyone who lives here has sat at this very table with tears running down their face. Take your time.” Milton turned her shoulders so she was facing toward the bathroom. He waited until he heard the bathroom door shut before dropping back into his chair and turning his dark eyes to Blade who was doing his best to hide behind his teacup. “Blade, why are you here? What do you want from us?”

Blade looked over at Sheldon, a pleading look on his face. He never been trapped in Milton’s stare before, and now he looked close to panic. “Her parents are upset,” Sheldon said, filling the empty space. “She’s from Texas.”

“Ah, I see,” Milton said. “I take it they were hostile to the idea that their eighteen-year-old daughter is unmarried and pregnant. Imagine that.”

Blade propped his elbows on the table and stared into the tea cup. “She wants the baby. I don’t know what to do. Her parents were vile.”

“Do you still have a relationship with her?” Milton asked.

“I can’t marry her. Our relationship wasn’t like that.”

“You can’t marry someone you don’t love,” Milton said gently, “but you are the father of her child. You have responsibilities.”

Blade ran his fingers through his already messy hair. “I know. I’m not ready for this.” Blade swallowed hard, fighting tears. “I wanted kids someday, just not now.”

“You came to us. I will not let you escape your responsibility.” Milton kept his eyes fixed on Blade. “You’ve both picked a hard way to enter adulthood. We’ll help, and I’m sure your parents will help. Have you told them?”

Blade shook his head.

“As soon as we finish talking, I want you to call your parents. It’s not a death sentence,” Milton added when Blade looked like he’d just been ordered to perform the impossible. 

“Can’t Sheldon do it?” Blade stumbled over the words.

“Did you offer to do it?” Milton asked his partner.

“Yes.”

“He needs to grow up,” Milton said. “You can call them but make sure you put him on the line. He’s the one who’s going to be a father. Blade, did you finish the semester at school?”

“Sort of.” Blade flushed.

“I want a list of your classes and your professors’ names. I’ll see if I can salvage your semester. What about Mary?”

“I think she was doing well until exams.”

“Did she take them?”

“I don’t think all of them. What does it matter? Her parents were paying for her education, and they threw her out.”

“There are other options,” Milton said with his usual firmness. “With her permission, I’ll take a crack at her parents. They may be in a more reasonable frame of mind now that a few days have passed.”

Mary came back into the kitchen. She’d washed her face and brushed her hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Being upset is more than understandable,” Milton said, reaching for the pot of tea. “I understand your parents are not supportive of your new situation.”

She nodded, brushing fresh tears from her eyes.

“I’d like permission to talk to them. Can I have their number?”

“It won’t do any good.” Mary’s voice sounded defeated, but she did scribble their number on a scrap of paper. “They’re very old-fashioned.”

“So am I.” Milton said. “I’m an old-fashioned man and because of that I take care of family. I won’t put either of you out on the street.”

“But—I’m not family,” Mary protested.

“You are now.”

“How can I be?” Her voice rose. “We’re not getting married. We already decided it wasn’t right for us.”

“I never thought you were. I’ve only know you a few minutes, but there doesn’t seem to be any love lost between the two of you. However, I have been told that opposites attract.”

Mary’s cheeks colored, and Blade turned a flaming red. “I didn’t just bed her and run out the door like most college guys.”

“That’s exactly what you were going to do if this little accident hadn’t taken place. How long did it take her to get you to own up to your half of the equation?”

“Fuck you!” Blade bolted from the chair. “Why did I ever think it was a good idea to come here? I’m sure I’ll get plenty of lectures from my parents.”

“Sit down,” Milton said in the same quiet tone he’d used all through the conversation. “If you run out of here, you’re not half the man I thought you were.”

Blade kicked the chair back out and flopped down. “OK, I’m here. Beat me up about it. I know I deserve it.”

“I’m not going to rub either of your noses in it. I’m sure at the time you both felt justified in initiating intimate relations. I care about today and the future. Have I interpreted the situation correctly in that you are no longer attracted to each other?”

Blade nodded. He’d gone from hostile to slumped in defeat. 

Milton turned to look at Mary. “What about you?”

“He cared enough to bring me here.” Her voice was high and small, childlike. 

“I couldn’t just leave you there, not after what your parents said,” Blade said to the table.  “I didn’t know what else to do. Milton fixes things.”

“Is that why you’re here? You want me to fix it.”

Blade ran his thumb along the table, wiping a minute speck of spilled tea. “I’ve seen you with Sheldon. I think I’m a lot like my brother.”

“Maybe,” Milton said after a moment. 

Sheldon watched his partner. Why did he seem hesitant? It was obvious that Blade was looking for Milton to take charge. The kid had practically begged for it. 

“I’m sure you two are exhausted. Sheldon, will you show them upstairs. Put your brother in the sitting room and Mary in the guest room.”

****

Milton watched their guests climb the stairs. Blade was right; he was like Sheldon, but Milton wasn’t his partner. How much could he do? Did the kid understand what he was asking? Did Blade understand his own temperament and his own needs and desires enough to even consider it? Sheldon was a sexual submissive. He might shy away from embracing that name, and he might hide it behind outrageous bratting, but he understood the essence of the arrangement. Blade wanted rescue, but even as he might claim he was similar to Sheldon, he had no understanding of the price of such a relationship. 

Milton walked into Tilden’s office. Tilden wouldn’t mind, and it would give Sheldon and Blade some privacy. The desk was covered in stacks of Russian exams. The grades were due Friday, and Milton knew that Tilden had stayed up well into the small hours to finish the grading before he left. Milton’s eyes swept over the pile. From the stacks, it was clear that he’d divided the papers by class and by success. Several first year papers were marked across the top with requests to talk with the instructor. Knowing Tilden, he’d try to give them another chance. He was always offering one more chance.

Milton ran his hand down his chin, feeling his beard rub against his palm. As Sheldon would say, Blade had fucked up— a pregnant girl with whom he most definitely wasn’t in love. At least he’d done the right thing and not abandoned her like so many young men. Milton unfolded the piece of paper where she’d written her parents’ number. She’d said her mother didn’t work; hopefully she’d be home alone and more sympathetic to her daughter’s plight than the father. Sheldon and Blade would talk to their parents; they were generous and would probably take the girl in. But their dad wasn’t healthy— two heart surgeries in the last year —and how comfortable would Mary be, living with a boy she didn’t love? What a mess.

Milton punched the numbers into the phone and listened to the hollow ring. “Hello,” a faint voice said.

“Mrs. Sheffield?”

“Yes. May I help you? If you’re soliciting for charity, you need to call my husband at work. I can give you the number.”

“No, ma’am, that won’t be necessary.” Milton tried to keep his voice soothing. She had sounded on the verge of hanging up. “You haven’t met me. I’m Milton Brown, a history professor. I’m calling about your daughter.”

“Mary, is she all right?”

Milton was torn between sympathy and anger. Mrs. Sheffield sounded frightened. Milton imagined her gripping the phone with white knuckles. “Physically she’s fine, but I understand she spoke with you on Monday.”

“She spoke with her father.”

“He was upset,” Milton said, keeping his voice gentle. From the hesitancy in Mrs Sheffield’s speech, Milton expected the husband and father was a tyrant, wielding a paternalistic power over the women in his household like a cudgel.

“We don’t approve of pre-marital sex,” she said primly.

So you throw your child and grandchild out like yesterday’s trash, Milton thought but didn’t say. Instead he cleared his throat and continued diplomatically, “Mary is very frightened. I know it’s upsetting to find out your daughter is pregnant, especially to a man whom she has no desire to marry, but she is still your daughter, and she is carrying your grandchild.” Milton took a deep breath. “She still loves you and wants to be a part of your family.” Milton heard a choked sound, a stifled sob.

“She can’t have a child out of wedlock.”

“She’s going to.”

“Then she’s not our daughter.”

“Is that your decision or your husband’s?” 

“It’s our decision. Have a good day.”

“Please, don’t hang up. I’m sorry. I’m concerned about your daughter I think you can understand that. I can hear the concern in your voice. You still love her.”

“I will always love her,” she said in a faint voice. “I’m sorry I failed her. May God forgive us all.”

“Please, let me give you a phone number where you can reach her. Do you have a pen?” The line was silent. “Mrs. Sheffield, do you have a pen?”

“Yes.”

“Please write this number down.” Milton recited the phone number of the house and his office.

“That’s not a Georgia number. Who are you?”

“No, it’s Massachusetts. I’m a relative of the baby’s father. Mary can stay with us for as long as she needs to. We take care of our family, and she is family now.”

Mrs. Sheffield must have heard the slight rebuke that Milton couldn’t hide in his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s different down here. Please take care of my daughter. Tell her I love her.”

“I will, but please call her. She needs you. She needs to hear from her mother that she is still loved.” 

Milton heard a quiet sob and a whispered, “I can’t,” before he heard the click of the phone. He gripped the receiver hard before setting it gently back in the cradle. He wanted to kick the wall or toss the phone to the floor to vent his roiling emotions. A family torn apart because they couldn’t see beyond a narrow moral code. At least Mary was young, not like her mother, shrouded in fear and deference to wrongheaded authority. He’d cope. They would all cope. His grandfather had raised him alone when men didn’t raise children; they’d make a home for Mary and her child. Blade had come to them. Milton could do this.

Milton picked up the phone again, counted silently to one hundred, and dialed information for the college number in Georgia. This was something he could fix. With the right amount of sweet talking, he could probably save the kids’ semester. It was a small thing, but at least he could make that right. It ended up being a frustrating thing also. He was tossed through a series of voice mails and automated options where none were the correct choice until finally a real person picked up the line in a voice dripping of honey sweet peaches of Georgia. After an agonizing conversation, where Milton’s New England vowels turned sharper, he finally was connected to an assistant dean.

“This is Dean Parker. How may I help you?” The voice was cool and distracted.

“Dean Parker, this is Professor Milton Brown of Banner College. I’m calling about my brother-in-law and a friend.”

“Milton, Milton Brown. Tall with a beard and glasses?”

“Yes,” Milton said cautiously. Parker was a common last name.

“So you’re still at Banner, and I bet still as tough as ever.”

Milton made a noncommittal noise.

“You don’t remember me. This is Bill Parker.” There was a pause. “You teach a lot of students.” There was a second pause, and it sounded like Bill was catching his breath. “You made a big difference in my life.” 

“Bill Parker —my first year out of grad school. You couldn’t string three sentences together without a writing misadventure.”

“That’s me. I never found a punctuation mark that I liked.”

“No one ever made you.” Milton smiled into the phone. He remembered Bill. The kid had been bright, scary bright, but lazy. He’d been a history major, a junior when Milton came to Banner. The first paper in the seminar course had been an eye opening experience for both of them. Bill’s paper had looked like ideas that might be jotted down on a cocktail napkin, not presented to a professor as finished work. Milton, with all the enthusiasm of a wet behind the ears teacher, had made it his personal mission to teach the kid to write. Bill had the bad luck to be assigned Milton as his advisor, and unlike most advisors, who merely signed off on the paperwork for graduation, Milton actually met with his advisees at least four times a year. He still did. The poor freshmen who were randomly assigned to him came into his office pale and terrified.

“You changed that.” Bill laughed. “I spent two years having nightmares about you, looking over my shoulder at every turn, but honestly thank you. I tried several times to write a letter to you thanking you for changing my life but it never made it beyond my desk. And I know the road to hell is paved with good intentions. You don’t have to say it.”

Milton chuckled. “So, you must have done well for yourself. A dean already.”

“Assistant only and I think they were desperate. As assistant dean, I’m low man on the totem pole, that’s why I’m still here with break starting and answering phone calls from a very persistent man, as my secretary put it.”

“I’m sorry if I scared her. It’s been a rough day.”

“So, how can I help you?”

“I’m calling about Blade Zath and Mary Sheffield.”

“Red haired bundle of energy. He’s in my freshman composition class. You said he was your brother-in-law?” Milton could hear the incredulity in Bill’s voice.

“Yes, he’s my husband’s brother. Opposites attract. I take it you have first hand experience with young Mr. Zath.”

“He’s hard to forget. I’m afraid he’s in serious academic trouble.”

“Is it salvageable, and what about the girl?”

“Are you going to make him do the work?”

“I’ll try.”

“Then I’ll give him an incomplete. You have until January to get all his stuff turned in and in better shape than ragged notes on a cocktail napkin. That’s what you used to call my papers in your more charitable moments.”

“What about the rest of his classes?”

“I’ll see what I can do, but that is up to the individual professor. Officially I can’t tell you anything about Mary, but in my class she was a good student until she inexplicably failed to show up for the final exam. I take it there’s a reason behind that.”

“Yes, she’s pregnant, and Blade is the father.” Milton heard the sharp intake of breath.

“Oh, I see. We have an automatic provision for pregnancy and illness. She should be able to get an extension across the board. You do realize she’s from Texas?” Bill said after a short hesitation.

“Yes, I just had a lovely chat with her mother.”

“It went well then, did it? That level of sarcasm never boded well with you.”

“Her family threw her out. I spoke to her mother. I suspect she’s terrified of her husband.”

“What about young Mr. Zath’s parents?”

“Sheldon, my husband—I don’t think you’ve ever met him—and Blade are talking to them now. I don’t think they’ll do anything regrettable, but their father has some serious health issues.”

“Ah, you’re the family elder. I dread when my day comes. My children are still the angelic preschool age.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts. I don’t have children, and here I am trying to sort this out.”

“I think you were always good at sorting things out. You certainly did for me. Scared the life out of me half the time. I always imagined you with vats of boiling oil in the basement.”

Milton laughed. “Nothing so elaborate, even though it would be tempting at times.”

“Tempting’s not the word for it.” The laugh was tinged with a trace of exasperation. “I wish I had that ability to lift my eyebrows and make the temperature in the classroom drop ten degrees. I thought college students were supposed to be motivated.”

“Hey, you can’t be doing all that badly. You’re already a dean. It’s just some of the younger ones need reminding at times.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping my problems in your lap. I’m the young breath of fresh air who is supposed to be revitalizing our freshman year. I’ll see what I can do for you. It may take a day or two as many people have already left for the holidays.”

“Thanks, and come up sometime for alumni weekend. I like to gaze at my successes. It makes my failures easier to take.”

It sounded like Bill was smiling. “I’ll do that sometime. I’ll bring Janet and the kids. She’d like you.”

“I’ll look forward to it. Have a good holiday and thanks again.” Milton hung up the phone, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his back. This was the easy part. A new life would soon be on the planet with two children for parents. Was it fair to describe Mary and Blade as children? They weren’t—numerically at least—much younger than Tilden’s two partners. Tilden’s boys were young, but not children. Both Luke and Mike had been kicked in the teeth a few times by life, especially Mike. Maybe that was the difference, and of course they had Tilden. A top, or as some might derisively say, a substitute father figure. Tilden could raise a child. Hell, Milton himself had been raised by his grandfather in a world far less accepting of nontraditional relationships.

Milton picked up the phone and punched in a number from memory. “Doug, is my grandfather there?”

“He just fell asleep. He fell again yesterday morning. I’m worried about him.”

Milton heard the catch in Doug’s voice. Uncle Doug had always seemed so strong and independent to Milton as a boy. He could stack hay all day and then find time to take Milton fishing and tell him wild tales of the time before he’d settled on the small Vermont farm. Grandfather had frowned at these tales, but hadn’t stopped them. He said it indulged Milton’s fantasies and created wanderlust. Milton hadn’t known what wanderlust meant at the time, but now he realized that his grandfather had known even when he was a small boy reading about Egyptian pharaohs and safaris in Africa that Milton wasn’t going to stay on the farm in Vermont, and he’d let him go, selling the farm to a disgruntled stock broker exiting the rat race. 

It was only when Milton was much older, after living with Gordon, that he’d realized the depth of the relationship between Uncle Doug and Grandfather. The small nod before Uncle Doug would get up from the table, the questioning looks he shot at Milton’s grandfather before he’d leave for town on an errand. The very subtle yes I have your permission. A permission that had certainly extended to the tales that had drawn Milton inexorably away from the family tradition. Doug didn’t want to do the world alone, not that he couldn’t, but he wouldn’t. Grandfather had already asked Milton to take Doug into his household if the time came, and Milton had agreed while at the same time dismissing it as the excess planning of a top. Grandfather was healthy.

“What about Suzy? Is she still coming in to help?”

“He let her go two weeks ago. She wasn’t working out.”

“What was wrong this time? Did she wear the wrong brand of shoes?”

“Milton.” Doug’s voice sounded scandalized.

“You never tell him when I’m being disrespectful. I’m sure you won’t start now.” Milton smiled in spite of his frustration. This was the fifth person who his grandfather had let go in two months. He was too independent by half.

“I know help for two cranky old men doesn’t grow on trees, but it’s hard...”

“I know,” Milton said softly. “He was always so strong, and now his body’s failing. I called to lean on him. Sorry, I should have known better.”

“What’s the matter? You used to always confide in Uncle Doug.”

Milton ran his hand down his face, stroking his dark colored beard that was now speckled with stray gray hairs. “This is not like the time I broke the light.” Why did talking to his parents always make him feel about ten again? 

“I wouldn’t think so. You’re not a kid anymore. Come on. You can confide in Uncle Doug.”

“I wish it was that easy.” Milton chuckled. “Do you remember Blade?”

“Sheldon’s little brother. His first name is something crazy like Meriwether or something.”

“Yes, he was named after Meriwether Lewis.”

“Is he off to college this year? You’ve handled college problems.”

“No, well, he is failing, but I know how to fix that. It’s...it’s he’s going to be a father.”

“How old is he? Seventeen or eighteen?” 

“Eighteen, and the girl is no older.”

“And how did you get selected for your child rearing expertise? I would have thought they would have gone to the girl’s mother.”

“The girl’s family lives in Texas.” Milton knew he didn’t have to say any more. Perhaps unfairly Texas had become shorthand for everything intolerant.

“And you want advice on child rearing? How did you get picked for this lucky job?”

“I’m not sure.” Milton rubbed his beard. Sheldon was the next closest in age to Blade, and with their father ill maybe he’d seemed like the logical choice. Blade’s older sister was married with a passel of children. Wouldn’t that have been the more logical choice? “Blade’s much younger than his siblings. He must be closest to Sheldon.”

“Are you sure he didn’t show up because you’re a top? I’d find out before he does anything more outrageous.”

“I don’t think he knows about it,” Milton lied to himself. The Zath family knew something; Sheldon made sure of that with his lunatic behavior at family occasions that had necessitated his partner forcibly escorting him from the dining room more than once. 

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Uncle Doug chuckled. “Remember I know Sheldon, and he puts everything out there. He’s a different generation than I am. Hang on a second. Your grandfather is awake.”

Milton could hear a murmured conversation in the background. Doug had placed his hand over the phone but he could still catch the occasional “Andy, you need to rest” and “please.” 

“Milton, what’s up with you? I understand something about Sheldon’s brother and a pregnant girl.” His grandfather’s voice was still strong, but Milton could hear the slight quaver and the raspy sound of his breathing.

Milton summarized Blade and Mary’s visit. 

“Blade’s not in love with this girl, I take it?”

“No, and I don’t think we’re the best environment to raise a child.”

“Are you afraid?” Milton’s grandfather asked sharply.

“Yes,” Milton said after a moment. “I don’t know anything about child rearing. I don’t think Mary is comfortable in a house full of guys, and she hasn’t met Tilden and company yet.”

“I think Doug and I did fine with you. I wasn’t a success with your father, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You were wonderful parents. I don’t think many adults can look back at their childhood and say their parents understood who they were.  Thank you.”

“You were always a good boy, and we’re proud of you. We’ll be here to help you as long as we can.”

“You need to take care of yourself,” Milton said, deciding to press his advantage. “Uncle Doug said you fired the help again.”

“I hate people hovering over me. I’m not helpless. She was incompetent.”

Milton rolled his eyes. His grandfather had probably terrorized the girl into a state of catatonia. “I find it hard to imagine they were all as poor at their job as you describe them.”

His grandfather spluttered into the phone. 

“I know it’s hard.” Milton softened his voice. “I’m a dominant; I understand. You’re seeing that control slip away, but you’d never tolerate it if Doug chased everybody away.”

“When did you get so smart?” Milton’s grandfather was trying to sound cheerful, but Milton could hear the fatigue and tiredness in his voice. He sounded old, the eight-seven he truly was.

“You taught me.” Milton fingered the phone cord. Was the idea crazy? What about sending Mary down to live with them? Grandfather could oversee the new child—feel useful, and Mary could provide the care taking that both Doug and Grandfather needed. “Grandfather,” Milton said hesitantly, “I need somewhere for Mary to live. She’s not going to want to stay here, especially if Blade stays. I need your help, and she could drive you to the doctors and that kind of thing.”

“Don’t remind me of doctors, money grubbers poking and prodding, not like Dr. Gardner.”

“His medical care hadn’t advanced since the Civil War,” Milton said exasperated. “Please, I think it would be a good solution.”

“You always were a devious top. Don’t you start with me. She has nowhere else to go?”

“Nowhere.”

“We do have an extra bedroom.”

“She would be very grateful.”

“What plane should I expect her on?”

“Grandfather,” Milton spluttered.

“I know how you operate, and time’s a wasting. Doug’s good with the computer thing. You can email him with the details, and we’ll pick her up or have Tilden get her. He called yesterday when he arrived in Orlando. The TV program is keeping him busy, but he’s going to try to make it out for dinner and stay a few days after it’s over. I could hear his boys in the background; they sounded like they were having a good time if you can judge by the noise.” Milton’s grandfather chuckled softly.

“Grandfather,” Milton said, trying to sound as if the idea was scandalous.

“Don’t you grandfather me, young man. I was head of the Green Mountain Boys. I know what the younger generation does in a hotel room.”

“All right. I need to check on my young man and his brother.”

“I expect you to take care of his brother. That’s why he ran to you. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Milton coiled the phone cord around his finger. 

“He ran to you for one reason. He needs you to do it, and your husband needs you to do it.”

That was the rub. Milton had topped before in non relationships, helping someone through a rough spot, but this was his lover’s brother. It didn’t feel right. Maybe he was contaminated by the ancient cultural laws of his society, but at least to him it stank of incest. “I’ll take care of him.” It was an ambiguous answer, but it seemed to satisfy his grandfather, and they hung up the phone after exchanging the requisite good-byes. 

Sheldon and Blade were upstairs on the sofa. A football game was on TV, but neither man was watching it. Blade was hunched forward, studying the floorboards, and from the dampness of his face had been crying. Sheldon was rubbing his back, but when he saw Milton he stood and burrowed under his top’s arm.

Milton looped his arm around his boy’s neck and automatically bent to kiss his hair. “Did everything go OK with your parents?”

“As well as can be expected. They’re traditionalists at heart. They didn’t disown Blade or anything, and they’ll be thrilled with the baby when it finally comes.”

Milton nodded. It was the best they could hope for. The Zath parents were genuine, honest, and hard working, but Milton would never describe them as radical or free thinking. Sheldon’s father had married his high school sweetheart and never left the small town where he’d grown up. He belonged to the same clubs as his father before him and even dined at the same restaurants. Fortunately for Sheldon, he had three older siblings that had continued the family tradition, and he’d been allowed to be the black sheep with a minimum of fuss. They’d come to Sheldon and Milton’s wedding and after some early misgivings, they’d accepted Milton, even embraced him. Milton didn’t think either parent fully understood the dynamics of Milton’s relationship with their son, but seemed glad their son had found a partner who was a calming influence and, as Sheldon’s mother had put it one memorable Christmas dinner, “kept the wicked sprites safely locked away with only a rare escape.”

“What about Mary’s parents? Blade’s eyes flicked to Milton and then back to the television.

“Turn the TV off. I don’t want to talk over the next great football announcer, whoever that may be.”

Blade reached for the remote, and Sheldon stood up to leave. “You might as well stay,” Milton said. “It will save Blade or I having to tell you later.” Sheldon gave Milton a look he couldn’t quite read and sank back down on the sofa. “I spoke to Mary’s mother, but I believe it’s Mary’s role to reveal the contents of that conversation to you if she so desires.”

“I take it there will be no quick trips to Texas,” Sheldon said. “Good, I’d hate to have to buy a Stetson for a shotgun wedding.”

“Sheldon, behave.”

“Fine, but stop looking like the grim reaper.”

Milton ignored the comment and turned his attention to Blade. “I spoke to an assistant dean at your college. It seems you have been neglecting your studies for a significant period of time. The dean will try to arrange incompletes with the work to be finished during winter break for a passing grade. I will help you arrange a study schedule and either tutor you or find someone with expertise in the subject area if needed.”

Blade nodded, but Sheldon squirmed on the sofa and mouthed something incomprehensible at Milton.

“Have I forgotten something?” Milton said with a raised eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you explain the consequences?”

Blade looked at his brother, confused, and Milton thought furiously on how to defuse the question with a minimum of damage or shocking revelations. “I’m sure Blade will have no trouble with the work once he has some help with organization and now that he’s away from the distractions of his home campus. I need to talk to Mary.”  

Milton thought he heard a faint “fuck” under Sheldon’s breath, but he chose to ignore it. Blade had to be aware of the general tone of Milton’s relationship with Sheldon. Milton was sure the young man didn’t eschew television, and it didn’t take a trained psychologists to read the signals given off by Luke and Mike in the several episodes of Meet Your Mate that had aired, along with his own partner’s dropped comments. By some miracle or more likely Sheldon sweet talking a film editor, Milton and Sheldon had not appeared together on the program; the only scene with Milton was in the classroom, and he’d done nothing overtly toppish. This was Sheldon’s brother. It was different, plus he was going to be a father. This wasn’t the same as getting a speeding ticket or failing his classes. 

Mary was on the guest bed, curled tightly around herself. She had a book in her hand, but Milton didn’t think she’d been reading. Her eyes looked wet and swollen. “May I come in?” he said from the doorway.

She nodded but kept her eyes on her book.

“I spoke to your mother.” She looked up, a trace of hopefulness in her eyes. “I know she loves you very much, but she lives in a very different world. She asked me to tell you that she loves you.”

“I can’t go home?”

“Not right now.” Milton put his arm around her shoulders as she broke down into choked sobs. “We are not the family you lost, but you are not alone. You are part of our family now.” Milton continued to hold Mary until she wiped her eyes and pulled away, embarrassed.

“Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Do you have anywhere else to go?”

She shook her head. “I can’t impose on you. It wouldn’t be right.”

“There are a lot of things not right with this world.” Parents who kicked children out because of an adherence to an outdated moral code was high on Milton’s list of not right  with the world. “Staying with family is always right, and you are family now.”

“I’m not family. Blade and I aren’t together any more, and it’s not like you’re Blade’s father anyway.”

“He’s my brother-in-law. I think my concept of family is more generous than yours. Blade’s the father of your child, no matter his current relationship with you. You are family.”

“I have no money. I can’t be a burden. I won’t let you pay for school.” She stared at him, challenge in her eyes.

“You do have some fire.” Milton smiled. “Good. You weren’t going to last long with what I’m going to propose if you didn’t have fire.” Milton waited for the sharp glance she threw at him to change to shy embarrassment before he continued. “I was raised by my grandfather and his lover. They are older now, and living alone is becoming a burden. They need someone younger in the house who can run a few errands, be there if they fall, maybe do some light cooking and cleaning, but my grandfather is stubborn, more stubborn than I am if you can believe that.” Milton smiled again. He had captured her interest. “I don’t know if you know anything about the kind of relationship I have with Sheldon, but my grandfather is like me. He’s a dominant. We’re pathologically programmed to resist care from other people. It won’t be an easy job. He’s already fired all their previous helpers, five in all. Do you think you’re up to the challenge?”

Mary studied Milton’s face but didn’t say anything.

“You’re too polite to ask if I’m creating a make-work job, so you can feel useful, am I right?”

She nodded and gave Milton a shy smile before ducking her head and letting her hair block her face.

“My grandfather needs help; he’d never tolerate someone if this was a pretend job. They raised me, and I think I turned out all right. He’ll like you, and most importantly he’ll think of this arrangement as helping you out. I can be sneaky when I need to be.” Milton grinned. Sheldon would be better at relaxing Mary. He was good at these little intervals of humor. “Oh, I forgot to mention he lives on the Gold Coast of Florida. I hope you like the ocean.”

“He really needs a companion?”

“Yes, he’s eighty-seven and Doug’s seventy-eight. All things considered they are both still remarkably healthy, but Grandfather has been falling, and Doug has several minor health problems, including vision issues which make driving at night dangerous. They’re both good men, and I think you’ll like them. Are you willing to give it a try?”

“I think so, but I’m pregnant. How much help can I be?”

“You’re pregnant, not an invalid.”

“But what about after the baby?”

“Grandfather and Doug are good at that. I know you grew up in a culture where men don’t participate in child rearing except as the disciplinarian and breadwinner, but it’s different here. Are you going to be OK with the fact they’re gay? I know it’s not accepted where you come from.”

Even through the curtain of dark hair, Milton saw her blush. “I’m not a bigot; that’s why I wanted to come to school here. My father wasn’t happy.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that you were, but it’s a big change to accept differences in the abstract versus living amongst us. They won’t hide who they are.”

“I wouldn’t expect them to,” She said, her voice sharpening. 

“Very well. Thank you.”

“I think I should be thanking you. You didn’t need to do any of this.”

“Don’t start to cry again. You’re stretching my experience trying to comfort a woman.” Milton laughed softly and rubbed his hand up and down her back. “You’re thin. Haven’t you been eating?”

“I didn’t much like the food at school.”

“Trent cooks here. Let him know what you like. Ah, you haven’t met Trent yet. He lives on the third floor with his partner Mace. He cooks for all of us because Tilden tends to set the kitchen on fire. You don’t need to worry about Tilden. He’s away with his two partners. I know it’s a madhouse here. It’s OK to looked shocked and feel outnumbered. You’ll like Trent and Mace. They’re practically normal compared to the rest of us.” Milton stood to stop his babbling and automatically smoothed the wrinkles out of his pants. “I think I’ve given you enough to think about, but when you’re ready come and find me, and we’ll discuss the more practical aspects like continuing your schooling and dealing with work permits and visas. Take your time. I know this is all overwhelming.”

Milton slipped from the room and sagged against the corridor wall. This might work out better than he hoped. Mary would charm his grandfather, and he and Doug were experienced parents. He still had Sheldon and Blade to deal with. At least they seemed to be getting along, but if Sheldon was cooking up something to try to get Milton to top Blade, Milton expected that he would wish the two brothers weren’t on speaking terms. Two warring boys was a simple problem; topping his partner’s brother was not. He’d have to explain it. Surely Sheldon would understand after Milton explained it, and if Milton couldn’t make it clear, Joshua or Gordon could. Sheldon usually listened to them. This would work, Milton told himself. He squared his shoulders and tightened his jaw. He could make it work; his partner would listen to him.

He hoped.