by CJ Bishop
“Uncle Clint!” Jules twisted and practically leapt from Angelo’s arms and into Clint’s. The cowboy caught him and smiled. “Can Tae spend the night here? Please?” He cupped Clint’s face and kissed his mouth. “Please? Please!”
“Does he want to?” Clint looked doubtfully amused.
Jules scrambled from his arms to the floor and skated over to Tae. The pup immediately went after his slippers again, nearly tripping him as he tackled one of the Scooby heads. “Cowboy!” Jules squealed and pulled against the puppy’s grip. His slipper came off and the pup ran away with it, scampering out of the kitchen triumphantly. “Cowboy! That’s my slipper!”
“Not anymore,” Clint smirked.
Tae stared at the cowboy, transfixed by the transformation from deadly gangster to a little boy’s “uncle”.
Forgetting the slipper, Jules turned to Tae and hopped next to him. “You want to stay, don’t you?”
Tae smiled shyly. “Uh, sure…I mean, if it’s okay with…” he glanced at the men.
“Yay!” Jules hollered before anyone replied. It was obvious who ran this household, Tae thought, amused.
“Of course, it’s all right,” Adrian assured him.
Clint approached Tae. “I’ll come back tomorrow, take you out to meet Axel.”
“Me, too! I wanna go!” Jules clutched the cowboy’s jeans, bouncing excitedly. “And Cowboy! And Callum!”
Angelo chuckled. “Who would’ve thought the cowboy would become a kid magnet?”
Jules giggled and hugged Clint’s leg as if he were stuck to him, conjuring a round of laughter from the others.
The Egyptian appeared in the doorway and watched in silence. Jules spotted him and detached from Clint, scooting across the tiled floor. The man’s expressionless face suddenly cracked with a small smile, his eyes lighting up, as he scooped the boy into his arms. Jules hugged his neck and kissed his face. “Can Tae meet Kane and Zoe and Donald and John, too?”
“We live right next door,” Cochise said. “What do you think?”
“Yes!” He squeezed the man’s cheeks and kissed him again. “Oh! And Stella, too!”
“Stella?” Tae frowned.
“His little kitty,” Jules grinned. “She’s so cute!”
“An ornery,” the Egyptian muttered.
Jules giggled again. “She kicks Cowboy and Jonah’s butts.”
“She does,” Clint admitted. “Those pups don’t stand a chance. Put a girl in the midst of a bunch of boys and she’ll take right over.”
“Tell me about it,” Cochise grumbled. “Zoe and Stella run the house.”
Angelo laughed. “I think God made girls naturally dominant because he knew us boys—gay or straight—would need lots of supervision.”
“Who needs supervision?” Anthony entered and paused next to Angelo.
“Boys,” Angelo smiled.
“Well, yeah, of course,” Anthony chuckled. “That’s a given.” He looked at Jules, practically bouncing in Cochise’s arms. “Speaking of supervision, young man, why aren’t you in bed?”
“Because the cowboy hasn’t taken me home yet,” Cochise mumbled. The other men stared at him a moment then burst into laughter, which instantly infected Jules.
“I was talking to Jules,” Anthony clarified.
Cochise shrugged, a faint smile forming.
“I thought the bath was supposed to relax you so you would go to sleep,” Anthony told Jules.
“Can me and Tae and Callum sleep in the living room and watch TV?”
Adrian looked at the two men he lived with. “What do you think?”
“Please.” Jules leaned over and hugged Anthony’s neck, kissing cheek.
The man groaned. “You manipulate us with those kisses, don’t you? Sneaky little brat.”
Tae smiled as the others laughed and nodded, his heart warming as he began to understand for the first time in his life how it felt to be part of a real family.
EPILOGUE
“My Beloved, My Friend”
______________________________________________
“His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, this is my friend.” – Song of Solomon 5:16
My Beloved, My Friend,
Not a minute goes by that I don’t think about you, about all we’ve shared…and all we’ve missed out on this last decade. I miss you tonight, especially, when I am reminded of the events that took you away from me—away from mija. She thinks of you fondly and misses her papá. She has started asking questions about your death. She was told by another that you didn’t die in an accident, but that another man took your life from you. We agreed that she not know the truth, but I fear the truth will make itself known.
She asked me about…us. The one who told her about your death, also told her that we were “more” than friends. I gave her no details, but simply told her that you and I were very good friends and that was all she needed to know. She didn’t ask for more, but I wonder how long it will be before my words begin to create more question within her. I am not ashamed. We did nothing wrong. But I don’t know if she’s ready—or if she will ever be ready—for that part of “us”. Would mijo understand? He loved his mamá. It hurts my heart if he were to think that I hadn’t loved her as much. I did. Just as you loved your angel with all your heart. But our hearts continued to beat…when theirs stopped. We didn’t cease needing love in our lives. I believe in my heart that our angels understood, and approved.
I miss you, my love. I wonder if this storm will pass one day…or if we will be lost at sea forever.
I long for clear skies and sunshine again.
I long for you. My heart is lonely…my arms empty. No one can fill them, but you.
Te amo, my love.
Your Beloved, Your Friend…
“My beloved spoke, and said unto me, Rise up, my love and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.” – Song of Solomon 2: 10,11
Lorenzo closed the journal and caressed his palm over the smooth leather, delicately etched around the borders; a gift from his beloved. He gazed into the fire, tears in his eyes, a quiet ache in his heart…and held onto his faith that someday the dark clouds would pass and the light of love would once again shine in their lives.
