hardbacks, and paperbacks of every installment and goodies related to the books. There were
bookmarks and mugs and even tote bags on a chair in the corner. "Jesus," he chuckled, sliding his
fingers over the spines of the books. "He's worse than Dad."
Michael put his duffel bag on the floor and fought the temptation. He wanted to find out what
had happened to Richard more than anything, but he didn't want to get caught. Better to wait and
ask someone if he could read them while he was in the house.
He walked over to the desk, and his chuckle turned into a laugh when he spied the screensaver on
the computer. The R.B. Lewis logo he'd seen on every book the author had ever written was slowly
swirling around on the screen.
"And here Mom thought Dad was R.B.'s oldest groupie."
Michael knew there was a chance he might be wrong about his grandfather, but he refused to
think about it.
"I gotta make sure I have Dad take a look at this." He grabbed a book from the desk. "Maybe we
can take a picture of it. Dad can show it to R.B. next time they have dinner together." Michael
opened the book and looked through it. "Oh, Dad…" He read the title of the book and laughed.
"You're gonna be so jealous. Someone's got an advanced copy of the new book before you!"
He placed the book next to a huge stack of papers, a notebook, and a journal. He looked around
the office again, trying to find the best spot to display what he'd brought with him. He'd just decided
the Tony Award would look best on the desk when it hit him.
A dead person wouldn't have a computer with his favorite author's name as a screensaver, right? He wouldn't receive advanced copies of books that readers didn't have any details about either. And
that title he'd just read? Never heard it mentioned before. Not once. His father would have said
something. Michael hadn't been able to see much of the author since he went away to Worthington
School, but his dad always kept him in the loop of whatever R.B. was up to next on his writing
material.
Michael set the Oscars next to the Tony and went around the desk.
A crazy idea had formed on his head, and he needed to either confirm it or discard it right away.
He moved the journal and notebook to the side. If he found at least one piece of
correspondence he'd be able to… His hand slowed down, and finally froze on top of the new book;
the name of the author jumping at him.
R.B. Lewis… R.B… Lewis… R… Lewis… B…
"No…" he whispered. "It can't be…" He traced the name with his index finger then squeezed his
eyes shut for a few seconds before looking at the name again. He couldn't focus on it. The tears
wouldn't let him. "It can't be…"
"Welcome home, Michael."
The deep, shaky voice that reached him from the door was one he knew. He first remembered
hearing it when he was four years old, but he knew from talking to his dad that he had been a baby
the first time he met its owner. And that voice might not have been a regular in his life, but it had
most definitely been a constant.
He knew it from dinner at his house with his parents, from going to the movies, from trips to
Disneyland, and even museums. It'd been present at a few of his birthday parties. It had given him
advice and wished him the best of luck when he was sent to Worthington. He'd heard it on the
phone congratulating him for his performance in
Café Au Lait
and asking for a copy of the DVD if
the school made on. It belonged to a man who, for years, Michael had thought of as the coolest surrogate grandpa a
guy could've had.
He didn't remember moving, but he'd never forget the bear hug he received from arms that were
still firm and strong, even though they belonged to a sixty-eight year old man. The tears didn't let
him see his face, but he didn't need to right now. He already knew what the man looked like, so he
buried his face on his grandpa's neck instead and wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders.
He felt so solid. Michael knew he was in good health… that with luck he'd have his grandpa for
many years to come.
"It's you…" Michael managed to say. "You've been there all along..."
"Oh, Michael," Grandpa sobbed, hugging him tighter. "Michael…"
"I brought your journals and your awards," he whispered. "She didn't have a right to keep them."
"Thank you for that…"
"You should've told us!" Michael blurted, feeling equally elated and disappointed. "Why didn't
you tell us?"
Grandpa caressed Michael's blond hair and kissed him repeatedly on the cheek. They both broke
down and cried like babies. "You should've told us," he repeated.
"I wanted to. I swear I did." Grandpa pulled back, but only a little, because Michael wouldn't let
go of him.
Michael blinked a few times, trying to focus on the older man's face. His grandpa wiped out his
tears and kissed his forehead. Michael broke down all over again.
"I didn't think it was right to tarnish you and your father's image of Mary Elizabeth," Grandpa
explained. "I had you and your father in my life. And even Susan, who happens to be a wonderful
lady, so I told myself that I could wait to tell you."
"That's what he says," a teasing voice said from the office door. "But I know better. The moment you started looking like Richard is also the moment he started hoping Mary Elizabeth would grow a
conscience and admit to what she'd done. And I've got to tell you, he's been on pins and needles
since he found out you're playing his character in
Café Au Lait
. We knew the time had come."
Michael's head snapped to look at the newcomer, and his day all of a sudden got a hundred times
better.
"Oh my God!"
Only one thing could've made him let go of his grandpa right now, and it was staring at him from
the door.
His hair wasn't midnight black anymore. It was now mostly gray, but the eyes were the same.
He'd recognized those twinkling, soulful eyes anywhere from description alone.
"
Oh my God.
"
Michael ran to Manny, sobbing and laughing at the same time, and hugged the man as tightly as
he had hugged Grandpa Richard; with the same joy and love. "Oh, Manny," Michael said when he
could find his voice. "I'm so damn happy to see you here!"
"There's no other place I could ever be." Manny sniffled. "We belong together, your grandpa and
I, and we're damn happy that you found your way to us." He hugged Michael with one arm and used
the other to pull his partner against them.
It was the best group hug in the history of group hugs.
Michael savored it for all of one minute before he started with the questions.
"You gotta tell me what happened after you disappeared. How did you two get back together? I
thought you didn't want to see Grandpa again," he told Manny, and then turned to look at Grandpa.
"I need answers."
"And you'll get them," Grandpa said, steering him toward the door. "But first let me catch my
breath, okay?" Michael ignored the request. "Those are your journals I saw on the bookcase, right?"
"Yes, they are."
"Can I read them? I promise to skip the naughty parts."
Grandpa and Manny laughed.
"Sure," Grandpa agreed. "I don't have a problem with that."
"Did you plan it?" Michael continued to ask. "Was that the reason why you wanted a divorce,
Grandpa? Did you plan to disappear together?"
"I didn't plan a thing. I would've never left your father, and Manny would've never run away with
me," Grandpa Richard said with a chuckle. "He hated me."
"But you're here together," Michael pointed out. "He couldn't have hated you that much!"
"Let's just say I loved him more than I hated him," Manny conceded.
"And yet he played hard to get," Grandpa scoffed, rolling his eyes in the cutest way. "For three
years, he told me I couldn't have him. How cruel was that?"
"Oh, stop complaining." Manny lead them upstairs into what looked like a family room. "I have
made it up to you, haven't I?"
"You most certainly have," Grandpa agreed, leaning in to share a quick kiss with his partner.
Michael's heart melted all over the marble floor. He studied the room in an attempt to give the
couple some privacy, but completely forgot about it when he spotted the picture frames.
There were several. Of Grandpa Richard and Manny, of them with another guy and a huge blue
marlin, of people Michael assumed were family members on both their parts, of Michael and his
parents... and of his dad on his high school graduation gown.
He reached for a picture of himself with his dad and grandpa. It had been taken during a trip to
Disneyland when he was ten. Michael remembered his dad wasn't crazy about going, but Richard, or
R.B., which was what they'd called him, insisted they went. It was a perfect day.
"God…" Michael whispered, sitting on one of the couches. "I can't even imagine what Dad's
reaction is going to be when he finds out."
"I want to be the one to tell him, Michael," Grandpa said, sitting next to him. "Please don't
mention anything before they get here tomorrow."
"I promise I won't." He placed the framed picture on the coffee table and let out a long sigh.
"For a price, of course," he added with a huge grin. "Did Benjamin help you when Grandma threw
you out?" He looked at Manny. "Did you come to the island to see Grandpa?"
"My my… Not only does he look like you, but he
is
just like you." Manny laughed and walked to
the door. "I'm going to get some refreshments for us."
"Thank you, love."
Michael's eyes got all misty again. He just couldn't handle the cuteness overload between those
two.
"Look," Grandpa said, covering Michael's hands with his own. "I know you have many questions,
and I'm more than willing to answer them, but we have time for that. Can't we just enjoy the
moment for now?"
"Sure," Michael agreed, but deep down he knew he'd go read his grandpa's journals as soon as he
could. "Can I stay with you for a while?" he asked. "I have a few weeks before I gotta leave for
college, and it'd be awesome if I could… you know… be with you?"
"You don't even have to ask," Grandpa said with a smile. "You're welcome to visit whenever you
feel like it, and stay for as long as you want. Same goes for your friend Charlie. Your father's told me
you boys are inseparable."
For now
.
In a few more weeks he and Charlie would go their separate ways, as they were both attending college in different states. They'd talked about it and promised to always stay in touch, but Michael
feared time and distance would get in the way. There was a chance he'd lose his best friend.
Michael gulped.
"Thank you, Grandpa," he said, forcing a smile. He hugged the man again, because he needed the
comfort, and because he could. The transition from calling him R.B. to calling him Grandpa and
treating him as such had been amazingly easy, and he was happy for that.
"I want to take you to the patio and introduce you to the rest of the family. They've been waiting
to meet you. Not too patiently, I might add."
"I'd like that very much. Aunt Helen, I gotta say, is awesome," Michael looked into his grandpa's
blue eyes, so similar to his own and his dad's. R.B. had always worn glasses, which was probably the
reason he hadn't noticed before. "I'm glad she was supportive of you."
"I am too. My parents… let's just say they weren't as accepting as Helen was when I told them
Manny and I were a couple." He looked sad for a moment, but soon enough shook himself out of
his memories and smiled. "Anyway, that's neither here nor there. This weekend we celebrate."
"Aunt Helen mentioned there's an anniversary," Michael said. "Are you having a party?"
"Why, yes. Of course there's going to be a party."
Michael giggled when Grandpa swatted his arm. It was the gayest gesture he'd made so far, and it
just tickled him to no end.
"What are you celebrating?"
"Forty years of blissful coupledom, my sweets. That's not to be taken lightly."
"
Your
anniversary?"
"Indeed, and soon you'll get the details of our relationship, but right now I just want to enjoy your presence and get ready for my son's arrival. I've been waiting for this moment forever."
Chapter Twelve
The family was huge. Loud and happy, and Michael loved them all instantly.
They'd talked to him like they did every other member of the family. He was teased and ragged
on, and embarrassed the same as the other teenagers in the family did. He was included in every
