Sons (8 page)

“We’re here, sir.”

Guthrie’s words roused Michael’s wandering mind back to the present as the sleek limo inched into the underground garage of the home he and Jan had shared for the past twelve years.

“At Last!” Michael said as he stepped out of the car.

“I’ll fetch your bags up for you, sir. I know you’re tired.”

“Thank you, Guthrie. Yes, I am tired.”

Michael smiled at the chauffer, pulled his black cashmere overcoat over his shoulders, and headed for the elevator that would carry him to the penthouse loft. Turning to the older man, Michael said, “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. Happy New Year, Guthrie.”

“Thank you, sir, Happy New Year to you too.”

Eight

“
Mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix.
”
My heart opens to your voice.
Delilah’s love song to Samson flooded Michael’s head as the elevator carried him up to Jan. Michael never mentioned how his heart turned the first time he heard Jan’s voice all those years ago. That meeting, in Michael’s tiny Chinatown import shop, had catapulted him from financial disaster to a mover and shaker in the Asia-Pacific economy. Jan changed his life in ways portrayed only in movies, and here he stood, respected, wealthy in his own right, and in love. Life was good.

The elevator car came to a gentle stop. Michael placed his hand on a pale blue screen and waited a moment. A series of palm print recognition circuits did whatever palm print recognition circuits do, and a green light flashed. Michael always marveled at the gizmos Jan added to their home. The polished steel doors slid open revealing a gold-tiled foyer, which in turn led into the sparsely furnished living room with its acre of pale oak flooring and wrap-around windows overlooking the wide Delaware River and the New Jersey shore beyond.

Amal stood ready to take Michael’s coat as he entered.

“Welcome home, sir.”

“Thank you, Amal, it is good to be home at last. Where is Jan?”

“My master is upstairs in the guest bedroom. There has been a problem tonight.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?”

“I am not sure I should say. I cannot explain it.”

“Well, I better go up, then.”

“Please, sir, forgive me. My master said he should not be disturbed,” Amal ended in a whisper. “I am sorry.”

Michael didn’t like the sound of any of this, but for Jan to ask for privacy meant something important was going on.

Tucking Jan’s gift under his arm, Michael said, “Amal, I am going to get a shower and change. If you see Jan before I return, please tell him where I am.”

“Of course, sir,” Amal replied. He offered a slight bow, thankful he had apparently handled the situation well.

Michael tiptoed up the wide steps, each plank notched into a single oak beam that wound up to the third floor. He listened briefly for any sound coming from the end of the hall. Hearing none, he returned to the second level and crossed the wide hallway into the master bedroom suite that he and Jan shared. A few minutes later, he was enveloped in steam and scented soap from India.

Nine

J
AN
was headed to the master bedroom when he caught up with Amal.

“Amal, would you please get some pajamas and a robe for Colin? He’s a little scared now, so please don’t approach him. I’m afraid he thinks he’s going to be raped.”

Amal’s eyes grew large. “Effendi, why would he think that?”

Jan shrugged. “His mother and grandparents worked to turn him against me. It will take time, but I believe he’ll come around.”

Amal drew a deep breath of regret for his master but kept his opinion on homosexual behavior to himself.

“Effendi, Mr. Lin has arrived.”

“Michael’s home already! Where is he?”

“He is in the bath, washing the fatigue of travel from his body.”

Jan quickly turned toward the bedroom and then stopped.

“Amal, please bring something up for us to eat, and also something for Colin. A hamburger and french fries for him. He’s probably not ready for anything exotic just yet.”

“I shall feed the young master first, and then I will bring something for you, if that is agreeable.”

“Sounds like a plan. Umm, Amal, please don’t hurry with our food,” Jan said with a grin.

That settled, Jan entered the sprawling bedroom and went straight into the steam-clouded bath where Michael hummed a Chinese love song.

Jan poked his smiling face around the glass partition and asked innocently, “Want some company?”

“Jan!” Michael exclaimed as he pulled his lover into the shower.

“Hey! At least let me get undressed!” Jan protested.

“I think I can help you with that. Let me see, where should I begin?” Michael teased.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll forget why I came in here!”

Michael kissed Jan’s idle threat away as he stripped the sodden clothes off him.

Jan handed Michael the scented soap and said, “Here, rub my back, will you?”

Weeks of denied pleasure cried out for that most ingrained of male traits, instant gratification. No love ballet this time. Tonight was given over to raw need.

At last, the hot water faded to cool, then to cold. Michael stood and pulled Jan to his feet, leading him to the bed. The corner fireplace warmed them as they lay clean, naked, insatiate, each needing more than nature reasonably could provide.

Michael rolled onto his stomach and nuzzled Jan’s ear. “Sweetie, Amal said there was a problem tonight. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Michael’s question yanked Jan back from his blissful dream state.

“Can we talk about it later?”

“Sure… anything you say,” Michael agreed uneasily. Then Michael remembered the Tang Horse he had brought Jan. “Oh! I have something for you,” he said, smiling.

Reaching across Jan’s chest, Michael grabbed the silk-clad box from the nightstand and handed it to him.

“You know I love presents!” Jan said, opening the box.

The gleaming ceramic of the majestic horse momentarily robbed his breath.

“Oh, Michael, it’s magnificent! It must have cost the earth!”

“You are worth the earth.”

“Come here, you!” Jan said, pulling Michael onto his chest.

After a long kiss, Michael sighed and said, “Jan, you do realize that someday there will come a time when we will no longer have the strength for this.”

“Pessimist!” Jan said. 

S
OME
time before dawn, the storm passed, dragging away its heavy clouds and leaving only stray snowflakes to bounce on the wind. The sun, a ragged ball, eased over the horizon, tinting the bedroom a blood red. The fire Amal laid the night before was a smoldering memory, yet Jan and Michael’s lovemaking remained fresh, alive. Jan pressed his lips onto Michael’s chest. “Ready to go again?” he whispered.

Michael's eyes fluttered and then opened. Amal’s warning that there was trouble brewing tore at his mind. He pushed Jan back with a soft hand. “You are avoiding telling me what has happened. I love you, and I love making love with you, but do not use it as an excuse. You will have to tell me sometime.”

The two lay quietly, looking through the big glass window. Together they watched the sun rip the sky with sharp streaks of fire as if it were angry at the night for taking too long to leave.

“Do you have business today?” Jan said.

“Jan! It is New Year’s Day!”

“Okay, okay. Umm, we have a situation, maybe even a problem.”

Michael propped himself up on one elbow and looked cautiously into Jan’s gray eyes. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what was coming. He always feared one day Jan would come to harm because of Mundus and its projects, projects that could turn deadly if plans, even though laid through careful thought, went awry in execution, but no. To his surprise, the problem had nothing to do with Mundus. He remained silent as Jan recounted Elaine’s visit, ending with Colin and their shaky exchange the previous evening. Jan’s earlier playful mood changed to one of dead seriousness. Michael realized that, literally overnight, the life they had together was forever altered.

Michael took Jan’s hand and drew it onto his breast.

“Well, we certainly have a situation, there is no getting around it, but a problem? No, I do not see a problem. He is your son; therefore, it follows that he will be my son too.”

“But I haven’t had a family since I was a boy. I never learned how to do this!”

“Jan, there is an old Chinese proverb that says, ‘Handle a family as you would cook a fish, very gently.’”

Relieved, Jan burst into tears.

“My God, what a man you are!”

He snuggled against Michael’s smooth skin, murmuring, “I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Shush! Do not tempt the gods!”

“Michael, you’re Catholic. What’s all this talk of gods?”

“Yes, I am Catholic, but I believe in hedging my bets. Where is the boy now?”

Before Jan could answer, there was a knock at the door. Michael slipped from the warm bed and escaped into the bathroom.

“Just a minute,” said Jan, as he tugged on a pair of pajama bottoms.

Safely covered, he opened the door. Amal had placed a breakfast tray of fresh figs, Turkish coffee, and yogurt on a table near the door.

“You can come out now. Amal left breakfast for us.”

Michael returned to the bedroom rubbing his hands together.

“Food! I’m starved!”

Lifting the silver dome off the tray, Michael’s face collapsed in genuine disappointment.

“What’s wrong?” Jan asked.

“Is it too much to ask for a couple of glazed donuts, just once in a while? You know I love Amal like a brother, but I want donuts!”

“All right! Don’t get your shorts in a knot. I’ll go down and get your donuts.”

“We have donuts?”

“
Yeess
! We have donuts. I know you like them, so I got a couple at Zina’s Bakery before the storm hit.”

“Why didn’t Amal bring them up?”

“He hid them. He says they’re bad for you. They are, you know.”

“All right, all right! I will eat the figs.”

Michael bit into the green fruit, made a sour face, and said, “Where did Amal hide the donuts?”

Ten

A
MAL
tapped on the bedroom door before he entered, carrying a breakfast tray of cold cereal, milk, and juice.

Colin, drowsy from a fitful sleep, tried to ignore the intrusion and snuggled deeper under the warm duvet. Sharp sunlight cut across Colin’s face as Amal pulled the curtains away from the windows.

“Hey! What’s the idea? Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here?” complained the sleepy teen.

“It is already nine o’clock. The house has been awake for two hours. Time to get up.”

Colin slid farther down in the bed, a scowl masking his true reason for not wanting to leave the bed.

I can’t let this guy see me with a hard-on! This place is full of homos. I don’t care what Dad says about Abdul a Bull-Bull here. Dad? Why did I think that? What am I supposed to call him? I wonder if I can find somebody to get me out of this place.

“Well, I’m not ready!” was his sullen reply.