Taking In Strays (25 page)

“It is possible to stay open and make a profit,” Donny replied. “Getting people down here will only be possible if we advertise, hold events, and give them an experience worth traveling for.”

Anna studied him and then she observed, “You are the last person I would expect to find in a dusty book store, trying to help an old man.”

“Never judge a book by its cover?” Donny joked.

The umbrella swatted him with a painful sting on the arm. Anna tilted her chin up and managed to look down her nose at him as she cocked the umbrella back over her shoulder to block the sun. “You deserved that, sir. Please have Burton call as soon as possible.”

Donny rubbed at his arm and couldn’t stop a smile. “I will.”

She nodded and then swept down the sidewalk towards her shop, people moving aside to giver her wide dress room to pass.

Chapter Eleven

“You’re the son of the new Governor, aren’t you?” a man asked as if sharing a secret. “Donny Kirkpatrick?”

Donny was manning a table full of books that held a raffle box prominently. Streamers, fluttering in a breeze, declared a free book prize to the winner. The shop was behind him, cleaned and redesigned so that the office was now gone and a small coffee bar had been installed. It was drawing in chilled patrons who could smell coffee and Burton’s pastries from the sidewalk. Inside the shop, people were sitting at café tables and wandering the aisles. A fair number were waiting in line to purchase books, coffee, and pastries. A poster in the book store window advertised a book reading, by a local author, later that day. It also advertised a poetry day the following week, in an attempt to bring back potential customers.

The street itself had been decorated, everything bright and colorful, including the shop owners and the people filling the sidewalks to look at their outdoor displays. Samples from the nearby café’s had been the draw to get people there, but the fair like atmosphere and the unique merchandise was enticing them stay.

“I’m Donny Kirkpatrick,” Donny admitted. He saw the man’s press badge. “Are you going to write a story that will embarrass my father?”

The man looked surprised. “No, nothing like that. I had no idea that you were here. Your whereabouts has been a complete mystery for months.”

Donny frowned, “Didn’t you buy the story that I was living in South America?”

“I didn’t hear that one. Is that where you were?” the man asked in confusion.

“No,” Donny replied, shortly. “I’ve been here, working.”

The man seemed to come to a sudden conclusion, “Are you the one that’s been revitalizing the shops on this street? It makes sense, now. This place was slipping down the hole and the city was talking about imminent domain to take down the old buildings and put in some new projects. That’s why I came, to do a story about this street’s turn around. It’s going to be a much bigger story if I can write that the Governor’s missing son has popped up to head the entire project.”

Donny almost told him to go to hell and that he wasn’t the Governor’s son any longer. It wasn’t to protect his father’s new position, though, but to keep himself out of the news. As far as he was concerned, the old Donny Kirkpatrick was gone and not lamented. He didn’t want to be the front and center star of the news any longer. That wasn’t the kind of success that he measured himself by. Donny’s success had been the cleanup and financial comeback of that community. Working long hours, helping each store owner to renovate and clean, and planning events, had been like experiencing a catharsis of spirit. 

“I think Caesar talked me into buying two scooters,” Peter joked as he moved behind the table with two lemonade drinks in his hands.

Another success was smiling down at Donny with bright blue eyes. Their dating had been slow and difficult, each of them overcoming doubts about their own self worth. Dan had accepted the inevitable and then had dived in whole heartedly to help them both when emotions and differences had driven them apart. He had even convinced Donny to take part in therapy sessions. Surprisingly, they had helped.

They had been talking about taking the next step, moving in together and finally allowing sexual intimacy to happen. Peter had been more than willing to make love to him, but Donny had been the one to hold back until their relationship had been formed on solid ground. He’d had enough quick, meaningless fucks to last him a lifetime. He wanted to make love to Peter, knowing that he was definitely the man that he wanted for the rest of his life.

Peter was also someone Donny wanted kept out of the news. Experience had taught him how the press could take something beautiful and make it ugly to sell papers. He tried to get Peter out of harm’s way by ordering briskly, “Get me some more books from the shop? I’m running low and I want a good display on the table.”

Peter seemed to sense Donny’s tension as he handed him his drink. When he noticed the reporter, with his press ID badge attached to his coat lapel, it was clear that he understood the situation. “How’s everything?” Peter asked the reporter, his friendly tone belied by his hard, assessing blue eyes. He put an arm protectively around Donny’s shoulders despite a slight struggle by Donny to avoid just that. Peter wasn’t going to hide their relationship.

The reporter wasn’t intimidated. He looked excitedly from Peter to Donny. “So, it’s true? The Governor’s son
is
gay?”

Donny frowned and Peter looked unpleasant.

“Who are you?” Peter asked icily.

“Frank Muldone,” the man introduced himself, “I’m a reporter for the Herald Star. I’m here to give your revitalized community some free publicity.”

Donny demanded, “What else have you heard about me?”

The reporter fiddled with a camera, checking the settings, as he replied, “You’ve been out of the news loop, then? Your father’s opponent ran ads claiming that you were caught prostituting yourself and trying to solicit someone who was male and underage. He had to shut up when he couldn’t come up with any police report or eye witness willing to stand in front of a camera.”

“What did my father say about the accusation?” Donny wondered, feeling his gut clench. He was certain that his father had probably publically disowned him and disavowed any knowledge of his whereabouts.

“I said, ‘
My son is gay, and he’s a credit to any father. He wouldn’t do the things that he’s accused of.’”

Donny’s father was standing behind the reporter. The man spun, as flustered and shocked as Donny and Peter. “Sir! Governor Kirkpatrick!”

Donny’s father smiled at the man and made a broad motion at the small community. “My son worked a miracle. He deserves an award. This should be a model for other communities that face the same problems. We shouldn’t abandon them, or plow them under more government buildings. We should nurture them with renovation funds and save them. If you’ll wait by my limo down the street, I’ll allow a private interview with photos.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” the reporter replied as if he had been handed a brass ring.

“Burton,” Donny’s father said to the familiar young guard at his elbow. “Why don’t you follow? Police Officer Parker can take care of me, I’m certain?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter replied, still in confused shock.

Burton looked skeptical but followed his orders.

“Photo op, Dad?” Donny asked sourly.

“Of course,” his father replied, as he dropped his pleasant act along with his smile. “Revitalized neighborhoods are always good press.”

“But gay sons aren’t, or so you told me,” Donny shot back. “Was that some sort of damage control, just now?”

“My press secretary informed me that I was wrong about how having a gay son would affect my election chances,” his father replied. “Being gay, is
in
it would seem.” He made quotes in the air for emphasis.

“So everything you just said was bullshit?” Donny wondered angrily.

His father was too schooled about public displays to lose his temper. He said, in a low voice, “I was rash… about many things. When you refused any of my offers and left me, I regretted some of the things that I said to you.”

“Only
some
of them?”

The man looked uncomfortable. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that I can change how I feel over night. You are my son; my only child. I wish that you weren’t gay. I’ve found that I can’t cut you off completely, though. I…”

“You love your son?” Peter tried to interject helpfully.

The Governor glared at him, cleared his throat, and said, instead, “If you can overlook my words that night when you
came out
to me, then perhaps you will want to return home?”

“
Home
now
being the Governor’s mansion, of course?” Donny wondered.

“Yes,” his dad replied. “I’ll reinstate your accounts. You’ll have to remain discreet, of course, and not advertise your affairs, but I’m certain, in exchange, I can put you in charge of a few lucrative renewal projects.”

“Donny,” Peter said, taking hold of Donny’s arm and facing him excitedly. “This is your chance to make up with your father. Please, take it.”

“What about you?” Donny asked.

“What about him?” Donny’s father replied with a snort. “As long as he passes a background check, there’s nothing wrong with keeping him as your friend.”

“Peter is the man I’m going to be with for the rest of my life. I love him.”

“Not in the mansion,” his father replied in hardly veiled disgust. “I’m sure we can set up an apartment for him, elsewhere.”

“Like a paid whore?” Donny retorted.

“Donny?” Peter begged, “Give your father a chance. He’s trying.”

“Is he?” Donny faced Peter squarely. “After everything we’ve worked for, knowing that we’re about to take the final step, you want me to put you in an apartment and visit when my father thinks it’s all right with his supporters?”

“Donny,” his father growled, “I think I’ve offered enough. You have to meet me halfway.”

“No, I don’t, not about something this important.” Donny slipped an arm around Peter’s waist and faced his father. “This is my home, now. I don’t need your money or your position. I don’t want to cut ties between us, but you’re making that happen, not me. I’m your son. I’m gay. I have a man who I intend to spend my life with. Accept all of that or…” Donny swallowed hard, “You can go back to the Governor’s mansion and forget about me.”

“Donny, please!” Peter begged. “Rethink this.”

“Remember what Dan says?” Donny reminded him. “You like to project. My father isn’t yours. Letting him have his way won’t give us a perfect father/son relationship. We never really had it to begin with.”

“I’m going,” his father threatened. He looked around at the brightly decorated community. “What do you see in this bizarre collection of stores and apartments? How can this muscled-bound person, and living in a walk up in a broken down store, mean anything to you compared to what I can offer?”

“I used to think just like you,” Donny retorted. “It took getting tossed out on my ass to find out how wrong I was about what I really want in my life.”

“Last chance,” his father warned.

“Don’t say that,” Peter begged. “This isn’t a good place to talk. Both of you need more privacy and more time.”

They both looked at Peter and then at each other. After a long moment, Donny’s father sighed and shook his head. “Maybe you’re right. There’s no reason to rush things. I’ll have that reporter believing that I personally sent you down here to turn this community around. That will bring his focus back to me and clean up your image, somewhat.”

“You’re going to take credit?” Donny started to explode and then throttled back on that when Peter squeezed his arm. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and then said, “All right, take credit, as long as we get good press and it brings people down here to shop.”

His father looked disgusted. “Being that selfless will get you nothing, son.”

“Oh, I’ll get something,” Donny replied, “Something you can’t understand.” He frowned and asked, “How did you know I was here?”

“I’ve had you followed by detectives since you left our home the first time.”

“You mean when you threw me out?” Donny asked sourly and then, in disturbed amazement, “The entire time?”

“I am your father,” the man pointed out.

“Can you drop the surveillance, now?” Donny demanded hotly.

“I suppose I can save the taxpayers the money, since your
lover
is a police officer.” 

“We’ll call and set up a time to meet, later,” Peter interjected nervously, feeling an argument about to erupt.

“Meaning you as well?” Donny’s father sniffed and shook his head without waiting for confirmation. As he walked away, he muttered, “I suppose that I will be forced to get used to that as well, if I want a son.”

“Bastard!” Donny snarled under his breath.

“He’s challenging,” Peter agreed, “but he wants to have you back. You can’t toss that aside when there’s a chance he might learn to accept you.”

Donny pulled Peter in tight. “Accept
us
,’ he emphasized and then with conviction, “It’s time we made
us
official, don’t you think? There’s no reason to wait any longer.”

Peter was still troubled. “If this is about making your father angry…”

“It’s not,” Donny assured him. “You’ve been waiting all of this time for me to get my act together. I think I finally have, Peter. If you want to move forward, I’m ready.”

“I’d like that,” Peter breathed with deep emotion.

“About time,” the elder Burton grumbled as he put more books down on the table. “Could you two wait until after the festival, though? I think it might shock the customers.”

Donny blushed and then glared at the old man. “Where were you? You missed Governor Kirkpatrick.”

“I didn’t miss anyone. I hid,” Burton retorted. “I wouldn’t want him to black ball me from the book selling industry.”

“Over my dead body,” Donny swore and even Burton was taken aback by his vehemence.

“Son,” Burton began, but Donny cut him off.

“I owe you a lot. You took care of me. Now I’m going to take care of you.”